#and he was zipped up tight the whole night

[statementlou]

AHHH I just realized this is the only shot we've seen of the jacket open and while I can't tell for certain as far as I'm concerned my theory that he was wearing some kind of super warm long sleeve under there is #confirmed

[sweetnothingtm]

inspired by this video ♡

thinking about biker!simon who meets you one night when your car breaks down on the side of the highway, and you can’t manage to get a tow truck out so late at night - so of course he offers you a ride.

he’d pull up beside you and immediately notice the way you’re pouting and huffing in frustration, whining over the phone about how you’re all alone in the middle of nowhere - and how you can’t afford to call a cab, so surely a gentleman should help a poor girl out. and then simon is sitting on his bike with his arms lazily crossed in front of him leaned forward, killing the engine as he asked you what was wrong.

biker!simon would slip off his gloves and lean over the hood of your car as you meekly explained how you really should have changed your oil sooner - and that you really hate to be such a bother, but could you get a ride home?

he’d tell you that a pretty little thing like you shouldn’t even have to worry about something like this, that he could take you home and make sure you’re all safe and sound - and you think maybe he’s hitting on you, but you’re so shy and maybe he’s just being courteous. strangers normally offer to teach you how to change your oil and that next time they’ll make sure to bring an extra helmet - right?

biker!simon would pat the seat behind him and mumble something along the lines of how he usually rides fast, so you’ll have to hold on tight. biker!simon would offer you his jacket and zip it up for you, practically groaning at the way you bite your lip and avoid his gaze - but that damn helmet is so daunting, and how are you supposed to focus when he smells like pine and tobacco?

you would anxiously say that you’ve never ridden a motorcycle before, how it’s just too intimidating - plus you’ve never met anyone who owned a bike. biker!simon would be smirking under his helmet and humming in satisfaction when your arms tighten around his waist as he weaves between lanes.

biker!simon would hold your thigh the entire ride home - and is it just you or is he gently squeezing your leg while talking about how you’re being such a good girl and that for your first time riding, you’re doing so well?

and when he drops you off at home, biker!simon has his hand rubbing up and down your thigh as his bike idles in your parking lot. he would talk about how he’s so glad to have helped out, and how he’d love to pay for the tow truck - it’s the least he can do when you’ve been such a princess.

even though you insist that it’s just too much, and how you really shouldn’t be accepting such gifts from strangers - he’s done more than enough, and is there anything you can do to make it up to him? but then biker!simon is dismissing your concerns with the wave of a hand, telling you that he’s more than happy to help a doll like you.

biker!simon says something about how you don’t need to be strangers, that you’re just such a sweetheart, and how he’d love to take you out sometime soon. you’d smile sweetly to him and feign consideration for his offer - despite the fact you’ve already made up your mind when you were trying to memorize his tattoos and the way that he’d glance over his shoulder to check on you throughout the drive.

he’d help you off his bike and walk you to your apartment because he wouldn’t want you to get into any more trouble tonight, right? when you shamelessly type your number into his phone, biker!simon is pulling off his helmet to reveal a balaclava that hides nearly everything except two dark eyes and the cocky smirk plastered across his lips. and you’re mesmerized by the way he lowers his voice and leans down to speak to you, one hand gripping his helmet as the other sits on your lower back the whole walk to your apartment.

the next day he’s leaning against his bike outside your building, a cigarette dangling between his fingers as you shyly rock on your feet and stutter over a thousand thank-you’s - and he’s so focused on the way you rub your thighs together and bite your lip that he almost misses when you say that you really can’t thank him enough for everything, and that you really do plan to make it up to him.

[bi-writes]

anatomy of us (3) | alpha!ghost x f!omega!reader

type: limited series, part 3 (9.8k), AO3 in an attempt to tame an unruly alpha, you are given. he did not come with warning labels. but neither did you.

series cw: reader described as plus-sized/curvier, alpha/beta/omega dynamics + universe, dark!simon, mature language and content, suggestive language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence (this part contains graphic depictions of gore + murder + minor character death), military criticism, protective!simon, dubcon (but reader does consent), possessiveness, dom/sub dynamics, size kink, praise kink, unprotected piv, cumplay, oral (fem!receiving) 18+

PART 1 ⏤ PART 2

The mirror betrays you. There’s someone staring back, but it isn’t you. You don’t recognize her. Whoever is there, she’s a traitor. A liar. She stole what used to be your body, and now you can only stare back as she lifts her hands to your face and touches your skin.

It’s warm. Your cheeks are warm to the touch, skin bouncy and firm. When you pull on the apples of your cheeks, they bounce right back, elastic almost. You’re glowing, too. Your skin has never looked so soft, so smooth.

Something’s different.

You bring your hands up and cup your own breasts. When you squeeze, you shudder, realizing how sensitive you are. They ache a little, feel heavier than normal. Your bra feels a little tight, too. Your hands drop and grip the sink firm, and you swallow hard before turning to face the door.

Your body is telling you something. It’s trying to talk to you. It’s natural, you know it is, and it is inevitable, and you shouldn’t hate your omega for it because she can’t help it, but you do. It’s what’s happening to you because you’re off your meds. Your hormones are firing like they never have before, and the voice in your head is starting to talk to you in a way that sounds way too appealing. She’s starting to sound right. You like the way she’s talking to you, especially after…

You haven’t spoken to him yet. You haven’t talked about it. It’s only been a few days, but you don’t think you can sleep next to him for one more night and pretend like you don’t know what it’s like for him to be dick-deep inside of you and satiating the shrill insanity that lives under your skin.

So big. So capable. Isn’t he so strong? I bet he tastes good. Let’s find out.

You open the bathroom door slowly. Simon is sitting there on the bed, phone in his hand. He’s typing, eyes narrowed in thought, and you make the door creak so he knows you’ve come out.

“Everythin’ olright in there?” Simon asks. He doesn’t look up from his phone. You decide to be mean, because you can be. You want to be.

Fuck off, you tell her, try to. All she wants to do is get Simon on his back on that bed.

Can we just suck his dick already? It’s right there.

“What do you care?” You mumble. You go to the closet to pick out something to wear. It’s a Sunday, which means there won’t be much to do today besides relax and eat. Johnny invited you to Mass, which you promptly declined, and you didn’t much feel like spending time with Captain Price or finding out which beta would be underneath Gaz tonight (more than one, would be your guess, but it could’ve been another alpha, too, he doesn’t seem to care as long as he can devour something whole).

You don’t turn around to see Simon’s reaction. Maybe he doesn’t react at all. You grab a pair of jeans and drop your sleep shorts. Ever since Simon had taken you on a roof, you decided it was no use trying to change in the bathroom anymore–he’d seen everything, anyways. You step into the jeans and pull them up, jumping a little to get them over your hips, and just as you’re about to adjust the waist, you feel him come up behind you.

Simon grips both sides of your jeans and hikes them up around your middle. You suck in a breath as he slides his hands around, zipping them up, deft fingers finding the button and fastening them. You huff as he keeps walking, forcing your front flat against the closet doors until he can press his chest up against you from behind.

Remember how good he felt? Let’s do it again. Take them off.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hiss. Your omega purrs. She softens your insides. You grip the closet, irritated, but you can’t help the way you bend at the hip and push back into him. He snarls as he puts his hands on your hips, holding you there. You can feel her, pushing against you. It’s getting harder every day to shove her backwards–there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to.

Is that part me? Or are we drifting together?

“Wot does it look like?” Simon murmurs. “I smell you.”

Yes, yes, yes, let him. Take it off. Take them off. Let him have it.

“What did I say before?” You let your arms fall, and you smack his hands off of you. You turn around to glare up at him, grinding your teeth. “Boundaries, Simon. You need to ask for permission.”

“I don’t have to do anythin’,” Simon bites back. “I said some things before, too, didn’t I? Y’r mine.”

Oh, that’s how he wants it to be. You can see it in his eyes, the way his alpha is feeding him lies. Feeding into his ego. He’s got tendrils that are choking him from the inside-out, trying to tell him to be the bigger species, the more dominant figure. Your omega wants to let him, but that isn’t you. Fuck submission–it’s just not your style. You’re a taker, not a giver, and your omega will need to learn that the hard way.

You lean up on your toes, pressing your forehead to his. You meet his alpha in the middle, not backing down. You can be nasty, too. You can be dangerous. You might not have his build nor his strength, but omegas have teeth, and they are sharp.

“Then you better sleep with one fucking eye open, Simon. Cause I’ll kill you if you put your hands on me without asking.”

You make sure you hit him on your way around him. You open the drawers of the dresser angrily, ripping a shirt out. You slip your pajama shirt off, tossing it onto the floor, and you fit your bra straps over your shoulder before turning around. Simon is still staring like a dog–eyes watery and intense, staring right at your tits, and you grab a pillow off the bed and throw it at him.

“Oh my god!” You cry, and he sucks on his teeth under the mask.

“Mmm…” He puts a hand over his chest, rubbing there. If he didn’t have it on, you have a feeling he’d a smug grin on his stupid face. “My mate is fuckin’ naked, wot you want me to do, look away?”

“Yes, exactly, you pig,” you mumble, clasping your bra and fixing it to cover yourself before slipping your t-shirt on. You frown as you pick up a clip to tie up your hair. “And we’re not mates.”

“Tha’ right?”

“That’s right,” you say curtly. You turn to give him a hard stare as you slip your boots on. “As far as anyone else can tell, I’m not claimed.” You run a few fingers over your scent gland. Soft. Unmarked. Pulsing.

It’s like you’re taunting him. He snarls a little at that, something low and territorial under the mask.

“Tha’ wot you want? Me to claim you?”

“No,” you stand on your toes, faces barely touching. The air in the room is humid and thick, curling, competing scents making you a little dizzy. “I want you to drop dead.”

It’s half of a lie. It would be funny, you think, to see Simon eat a bullet or catch on fire and perish in a frenzy of equal pain and misery, but you know Kate would just do it all over again to you. There are no shortage of alphas at her disposal. With a swipe of her signature, she can have you moved halfway across the world again, and you’d like to not end up on the CIA’s bad side because you keep spending all their money on flights and bribes to get you some kind of mate that will tolerate an indifferent omega such as yourself.

An unruly one. A terrible one. A decisive one.

You don’t really want Simon dead. Better the beast you know than the one you don’t, and from the time you’ve spent with Simon, he is all bark, no bite.

For now.

Meals are always awkward. You feel like all you and Simon do is snap at each other lately. Call each other names. Spit nasty insults. Maybe it isn’t fair to be angry with Simon; you have a feeling he didn’t have much of a choice, same as you, but it doesn’t matter, because nothing really changes in his life the way it changes in yours.

Simon isn’t the one that loses himself. Simon isn’t the one that has to wear a brand on himself, a permanent reminder of his submission. Simon isn’t the one that has to succumb to things he can’t control about himself–the heats that last for days, the ones that will burn you from the inside out until it gets that nasty fill that your omega was born for.

Ruts just aren’t the same, you don’t believe it. They can swallow them down. Save them for later. It isn’t a comfortable thing to do, but if an alpha is missing their omega, they can satiate themselves with a lazy hand or a soft mouth until they get what they’re searching for.

Omegas aren’t offered the same luxury. If you don’t get what your omega feeds off of, she might kill you–and you don’t need to be reminded that you and your omega aren’t exactly on great terms.

The boys are quiet at breakfast. John has secluded himself in his office for the day, but Simon’s sergeants are pretty quiet for how much they usually babble. They are, however, shoving their faces in with food in a matter that makes you scowl.

They’re dogs, really. Johnny looks positively famished. He’s got his cheeks pillowed with eggs and toast, and you look away from Gaz as he tips his head back to wash down a mouthful of ham with coffee.

You jump when you feel a fist hit the table. It rattles the trays, and Johnny’s orange juice splatters a little outside of the cup. Simon is back from the kitchen, sliding your own tray in front of you. Your mouth waters a little at the smell of the freshly baked croissant and moka pot of coffee that waits for you, and the sergeants grumble a little as they look up at their lieutenant.

“Would you both fuckin’ eat with y’r fuckin’ mouths closed?” Simon snaps. “Bloody rats eat more proper than you lot.”

“What’s the matter, LT?” Johnny gulps down his food, wiping his mouth with a wet thumb. He smiles at you with teeth, and you pick up your fork to busy yourself. You can see feel his crazy eyes on you, trained on your face. He licks over his teeth as he does. “Want us to be proper gentlemen around yer bonnie girl?” He wiggles his tongue at you. “What’s proper about knotting a pretty little omega like tha’, aye? Can smell ‘er from ‘ere…Smell like taffy.”

Simon takes a seat on the bench next to Johnny. You stare wide-eyed as Simon cocks his head to the side. Your eyes water a little as you see Simon slide a big hand up Johnny’s neck. He leans into it, clearly comfortable (you’re going to try and forget this observation), but his face contorts from contentment to sheer pain as Simon wraps his gloved fingers into the curls of his mohawk and pulls. Johnny’s neck snaps back at a hard angle, making him hiss and kick his legs out. They bang against the table, shaking it, and Gaz looks down at his plate as Simon tugs Johnny close to him.

“You listen ‘ere, Sergeant. I’ll say this once, and I won’t repeat it,” Simon growls. “If I hear you say one more word about my mate’s cunt, I’ll rip your throat out with my own teeth. Don’t care ‘ow many times you’ve covered me or saved my arse on the field. My rank is her rank, so from now on, I want you to drop y’r eyes when she looks at you, and I want you to say, yes, ma’am, and nothin’ else, you ‘ear that?” Johnny grits his teeth as Simon shakes his head violently, holding him firm. “And if I hear about it when I’m not around, I’ll let her cut y’r dick off, yeah? Or maybe I’ll let her shoot you in the head again. And trust me, mate, she won’t miss–”

“Simon,” you interrupt gently. Simon’s face turns, and you meet his eyes. You shake your head a little. “It’s…it’s okay. Johnny’s just a huge flirt, and it came out wrong. Didn’t it, Johnny?”

Simon closes his fist, letting out a sharp breath. His eyes are a little darker than you’re used to. You’re not sure he’ll listen to you, but when you see his fingers start to loosen, you relax a little. You don’t understand why he’s defending you, anyways, but maybe Simon has some twisted moral code when it comes to insulting his mate.

That only he gets to, and no one else.

“Yeah–” Johnny spits, and when Simon lets him go roughly, Johnny just laughs a little. His cheeks are rosy, and he tries to shake it off, but you can tell by the way he averts his eyes and the smell that wafts from him–Johnny is terrified of his lieutenant.

Simon stands, making the table rattle again. Johnny’s cup spills over the edge, and your cutlery falls to the floor as he makes his way out of the mess hall, throwing the doors open and letting them slam shut behind him. You scoff, rolling your eyes, and you swipe Gaz’s fork from his tray before continuing to eat.

“What the fuck is his problem?” You stab your sausage with the fork, cutting it angrily, and Johnny clears his throat. His rubs the back of his neck, rolling it out carefully.

“Yer serious?” Johnny scoffs. “Fuckin’ big man is in love with ye.”

Not me. He’s in love with…her.

“He’s just mad because he thinks he’s the only one entitled to say anything derogatory to me,” you explain. “He’s such an asshole, I swear. So are you, Johnny, by the way–I’m not gonna wet your dick for you, go flirt with someone else.”

Gaz snorts, shaking his head, and you pour him a little more coffee from the pot Simon left for you and some for yourself.

“Kind of sweet, innit?” Gaz murmurs. “He cares about you, you know.”

“Yeah?” You raise a brow. “Has a real funny way of showing it. You don’t see him when we’re alone. He’s mean. I don’t know what goes on in your heads, but your kind jump to conclusions. And you assume. And you’re too aggressive.”

“Well, what did you expect?” Gaz asks. He turns to look at you, shrugging. “That’s how we’re made.”

“I try everyday to be anything but how I’m made,” you say lowly.

It’s a lousy excuse, especially for an operative like him. Kyle and Johnny are no strangers to aversion or high-stakes. There is combat, and then there is what this team does. You’ve peeked at the papers on Simon’s desk. You’ve read the files you have no clearance to read. For the air-headedness that Simon radiates, he’s excellent at writing post-op reports, with fine detail. He doesn’t miss anything. This team isn’t something like SWAT–they don’t carry big guns for show and break down suburban houses. They hit foreign targets without a trace and eliminate threats before they blink. They are in and out of a building in thirty minutes, and they leave no man behind and no target alive. Each of them are experts in their own subject, and even with Johnny’s big, disgusting mouth, you cannot deny what makes him special.

He could make an explosive out of regular kitchen supplies; maybe even out of the toiletries you keep in a go-bag. His affection for chemistry is as equal to that of a good, protein-rich meal. Kyle is no different–you’ve seen him just for fun program an auto-correct feature into John’s laptop that replaced every word that he typed that started with a vowel to shitfucker. You saw him do it remotely. Over Bluetooth. With a Blackberry.

These aren’t just operators. These aren’t just idiot, self-engorged, misogynistic and animalistic men that panted and waited for orders like lovesick puppies, they are much too intelligent and way too self-aware. You won’t take that’s how we’re made as an excuse–it’s beneath them, if you’re being honest, and it’s infuriating. They aren’t a normal pack, and they never will be, and so you need them to stop using stereotypical excuses as reason for them being just like the rest.

It is conscious. It’s disgusting. It’s exactly as you thought it would be.

“Well maybe if ye tried that less, tried just being what ye are…things would be easier for ye,” Johnny mutters, picking up his overturned cup and sighing sharply through his nose. You drop your fork and lean forward on your elbows.

Oh, alright. If Johnny wants to play rank, then you can play rank.

“You know, you both have a lot of nerve,” you say lowly. “I would start being very fucking nice to me from now on. Simon and I may not get along, and maybe we never will. But he sure as shit won’t stand aside if tuck my tail between my legs and blame one of you for something you didn’t do.”

“Thought you said he hated you?” Gaz mocks. “Thought you said he was mean?”

You stand up and shove your tray towards them, starting to walk. You lean over to murmur in Gaz’s ear.

“He is,” you threaten. “But he’s still an alpha, my alpha, and pussy talks, Gaz. You’d know. You’ve been drooling for it since I sat down. I can smell you, too.”

You pat Gaz’s cheek a bit too roughly, and he snarls a little. You smile to yourself as you make your way out, and down the hall, you see a familiar shadow disappear around the corner into the darkness. You cross your arms over your chest, sighing, and then you start towards it.

When you round the corner, he’s standing right there. Leaned against the wall, big arms crossed over his chest. His face twitches under the mask. You move to stand in front of him so you can get his eyes.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t want to babysit me, you can’t seem to leave me alone.”

“I have others to answer to if something happens to you.”

“Don’t act like you care what other people think. Especially your superiors.” You roll your eyes. You don’t have much more time to talk to him. Or berate him, you were still deciding. A shadow comes up next to you, and when you turn, Captain Price is staring at you both, nodding his head behind him.

“I need to have a word. With both of you.”

You give Simon a look, but he doesn’t give one back. He merely slips a hand down your back and puts you in front of him, ushering you to walk. You’ve never been reprimanded by a superior, not because of a mission or anything of stake, so you can’t help the feeling that overcomes you–something of failure.

Had you done something wrong? Surely you had.

John’s office is bigger than Simon’s, but just as messy. Messier. There’s a pretty beta secretary out in front of it, and she smiles at you and waves. She’s too cute–too sweet. She probably puts sugar in John’s tea to make him smile or draws little smiley faces on messages from missed calls. You pity her and wish you were her all the same. When she notices your solemn face, she shrinks and dips her head, picking up her pen and continuing to fill out some forms.

John waits for both you and Simon to sit before shutting his office door behind him. He sucks on his teeth before tossing his hat onto his desk, nodding towards the two creaky seats in front of him.

“Sit.”

“Rather stand,” Simon counters, but one hard look from his captain, and Simon is begrudgingly taking a seat. The metal creaks under his weight, and you take a seat next to him. John sits on his desk in front of you both, and he looks at Simon before ending on you.

The scents in the air are driving you insane. You take a breath to try and keep your eyes from watering, but it’s difficult.

“You know, Kit, our team isn’t known for…following the rules,” John begins. “But I was assured that…if anything went wrong, that my lieutenant here would be responsible. He vouched for you.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You prepare yourself for the beratement. You sit up a little straighter, squaring your shoulders. The neutral expression your face falls into seems to irk your captain. He scrunches his nose a bit, smoothing a palm over the papers in front of him. He’s trying to establish his air of dominance, but it’s increasingly easy to stare him back down when your alpha sits right beside you.

There’s comfort in his presence, and your omega feeds on it.

“I saw you shoot. Got a good eye for those kinds of things, I’ll admit,” John nods. “And you did well in training. Followed Simon. His orders. Saw you clearin’ rooms like you’ve been on this team for years.” He grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Blue, but empty. “He was right. Fast learner. You know your place.” You narrow your eyes at that, and he hums. “But it doesn’t change what this is. What you are.”

You’re surprised at the way your omega curls in your gut. Angry. There’s an alpha insulting you, but this one isn’t yours. She warms your hands, and you dig your nails into your chair to keep her calm. She wants to bite, and she’s confident with Simon at her side.

“An asset?” You try talking instead.

“A liability.” John leans forward. “You put my men in danger. Going into heat like that.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. It’s alienation. You are an outsider. Not part of his pack. John draws a circle around himself, and you are not included in it, and the sentiment leaks into his words like a flood, and it hits you through the chest. Your lip trembles just slightly, but you swallow down the rejection, keeping it close. Your omega whimpers–an alpha, though it is not your own, is isolating you, and it hurts her.

“She didn’t–” Simon is interrupted by John’s laughter.

“You were off comms for 15 minutes and 37 seconds, an amount of time that during an op is fucking critical and could’ve blown the entire operation!” John snaps. “I told you to be fucking careful, I told you both to take precautions, and you failed me. I can understand you–” He points at you, and omega lingers unsaid, “but you, Simon? You–”

“It wasn’t his fault, it was mine,” you interrupt. “I should’ve known.”

“He’s your alpha, it’s his fuckin’ job,” John clarifies. “But Simon has more than one job, and on that day, it was keeping the target in his sight and waiting for my fuckin’ say.”

“Don’t reprimand him for making the call,” you tell him. “I’m the one who misread what I was feeling. I’m the one who distracted him from what he was doing. I’m the one who was projecting so badly, he had to help. It’s me. I screwed up. I’m just as much of your team as they are, so hold me accountable, not Simon.”

“You are not on my team, you are my problem.”

She wails. She grips your heart in both hands and hangs on, crying, wailing, begging you to say something to make him approve of you. She so desperately wants to be included in Simon’s pack, and it aches inside to be pushed away. You dig your nails in further, and you don’t realize how much your scent is flaring. Simon gets one whiff of it and snarls. His hands close into fists.

You goin’ to let tha’ wanker talk to your mate tha’ way? You goin’ to let another alpha walk all over her? He’s challenging you, tha’s wot this is, innit?

“Choose y’r next words wisely, Captain.” Simon finally speaks, and his tone rattles you. His voice dips low, and you can hear his alpha soaking into his words, and the bitterness in the air has to be him deciding whether or not today would be a good day to stand up to his captain.

“Tha’ right, Simon?” John murmurs. “Is that an order?”

Simon stands. Immediately, the humidity in the room expands, and you nearly choke from the sting of their scents in the air. Simon is much larger than John. He’s so much bigger, so much wider. You stand, too, and when Simon feels your hand along his bicep, his shoulders loosen just an inch.

Your omega may beg for approval and inclusion, but even she stands down when you remind her of the importance of pack bonds. You are not mated, and Simon has his own to keep, so you must appease. It hurts to do it, but you know you will thank yourself later.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” you say softly. “I-It won’t happen again. I swear��I promise.” Your eyes water, and you try to hold in the cough you’re holding. “First time…and the last time.”

Simon’s task force is a unique group. Four alphas–a lot of ego and fighting dominance in one bunch. It’s normally not done. They like to have a nice mix of betas and alphas to keep groups balanced, but Kate needed an exceptional group, so she built one. Four alphas in one pack is not common, but it works–and she has the stats to prove it.

You wonder if she knew what would happen when she threw you into the mix. How each of them might react when an omega tried to slip in between them. If Kyle would try to sink his teeth in. If Johnny would pass out from panting so fucking hard. If John would let his resolve slip for just long enough to blur the lines between a commanding officer and his subordinate.

Maybe Simon reacted just as she expected. That he would see what was meant just for him and pull her apart so he could slip under her ribs and stay right there. You have not been claimed, and yet–it is truth. They know it, Simon knows it, you know it, and so does your omega.

Simon paces in his room. A slow pace, but paces, and you observe him from your place on the bed as he breathes deeply. His alpha is leaking through the cracks, and you can smell his anger. It fumes, makes your nose curl. It’s a bitter scent. Your omega purrs in your chest–she wants to soothe him.

We will do no such thing. Shut the fuck up.

“You need to let me handle things when we get cornered like tha’.”

“I’m a big girl, Simon,” you say softly. “And it was my mistake.”

“It doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” Simon explains. “I’m your alpha.”

“I don’t care,” you shake your head. “You don’t speak for me.”

“No, I speak for us both,” Simon points a finger at you, coming closer. “For you and for me, and you need to understand tha’.”

You glare up at him. In all the time you’ve spent with him, he’s still letting his alpha bleed when he’s angry. You need to understand nothing–Simon needs to learn. He needs to learn that the omega they write about in textbooks isn’t reality. You fight your omega tooth and nail for control, and you are still on top for now. Simon needs to learn this. He needs to learn that you are not easily influenced by command. You may smell like an omega. You may keen like an omega.

But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I submit like an omega.

“Fuck you.”

Don’t talk like that…you know you want to.

“Ya already ‘ave, kitty,” Simon spits. “Would you like to go again?”

“I know this is hard for you to get through your thick head,” you whisper. “But just because I fucked you doesn’t mean anything. What happened between us was clinical. Your dick is medicine, and there was nothing I could do, and that is where this ends. You can tell yourself over and over again that you are my mate…that you’re my hero, that you saved me, but maybe next time, I’ll just let my omega kill me. The thought of you inside of me ever again makes me physically fucking sick.”

You’re a bad liar.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say lowly. He leans closer, until his face is nearly against yours. “You’re a pathetic, insecure, waste of space. I will never be your mate, and I pity every omega that might come after me, that has the unfortunate mistake of thinking you could claim them with any sense at all. You use and you abuse, and you have your head so far up your ass, I don’t think you know what’s real and what isn’t.”

Simon stares. You stare back. Your chest heaves, and so does his, and you keep your eyes on each other as you stare back and forth. His eyes are so dark. Beautiful, but so dark, it’s difficult to tell what he’s thinking. It’s not long that you notice his lashes fade to blonde at the end of them. His skin, where it bleeds from the eye-black he wears to the pale color of his face, has freckles scattered around the eyes. You can see the raised, white line of a scar that is just peeking from under the mask.

Isn’t he so pretty?

“On your knees,” Simon murmurs.

It’s whiplash. One moment, your entire body is buzzing. Angry, fiery–you can feel it shaking you. You hate him with ever fiber, want to smack the smug look you know he wears under that mask. You hate the power that he has over you and how much he relishes in it. The next moment, in a few slow words, it vanishes.

Like it was never even there at all.

“Excuse me?” You breathe.

“On your knees. Lose the pants. ‘n y’r knickers.”

“What makes you–”

“Won’t ask again.”

We need this. We need this. We need this.

It’s just that easy. For all the resolve that it feels like you have, maybe you really have none. You blink, but then he hears the sound of you toeing off your boots. They hit the floor, and then your cargos are falling on top of them, and then you’re turning over, sliding along the warm sheets of his bed until you’re lying on your tummy, ass up, and you’re closing your eyes as his gloved hands push your panties down your thighs until they’re around your knees.

You don’t really know who’s doing it. You’re afraid to think about it too hard, because you know that it just might be you.

He eats nasty. All tongue. He spreads your ass with big palms, and you gurgle when he kisses your folds with tongue. Your brain starts to fog, and you relax easily. He kisses soft and slow, but wet. You fist the blankets, pushing back, and he slides a thumb down to smooth over your puffy clit very gently. He hisses when he sees your hole flex in response, a drop of slick falling onto his palm.

“Kitty, why didn’t ya just say so?” Simon asks, stupid and fascinated by you. “Why didn’t you just say you wanted y’r pretty pussy kissed, hmm?”

“Because I hate you–” You whine, and Simon slips his tongue inside of you. You babble, your mouth dropping open, and he hums as he gets a taste of you before pulling back, smacking his lips. The taste of you spreads across his tongue, and his alpha howls. He’s never spoken to him this way, not really. The only time his alpha has ever really come to the forefront like this was the times he thought he was close to death; but Simon’s never been this close to life, either.

“I know,” he coos. “I know ya do. But this isn’t personal, is it?” He uses his thumbs to open you up, growling when he sees your hole pucker a little. A dribble of slick falls, and he catches it with his tongue, swallowing it down. “How’d ya put it, luv? ‘s medicine?”

“Your dick is medicine.”

“My mouth, too, I reckon.”

“Shut the fuck up, and eat me, baby,” you whimper, and he opens his mouth wide and licks with a thick tongue. He presses his mouth to your cunt and eats, bobbing his head as he alternates between slobbering licks and eager sucking. His tongue slides between your folds occasionally before slipping into you, and you curl your toes every time he brushes against your clit. His thumb will sometimes circle it, or his tongue will suck softly, but he never stays there too long. Simon likes to tease. He likes to make you a little desperate, likes to get you soft and drippy and dizzy, and then he gives in a little. He gives you two fingers, gloved still, and you push back against his face with gentle grinds as he fucks you softly with his hand. It’s agony and relief all at once.

“Like tha’?” He asks. He sounds amused. You hope his hard cock gets pinched by his zipper.

“Mmm–” You try. You arch your back, getting up onto your elbows, and Simon uses his free hand to give one side of your ass a nice smack, jiggling it gently before kissing where he hit. You giggle at that, soft and airy.

“Answer me, omega.”

“Fucking love it,” you gasp. “Big fingers–”

Simon laughs at that. You can smell his ego, but you don’t have it in you to say something smart. It’s true. Even with his hand, he fucks good, hitting deep. His mouth did wonders, and you’re dripping along his hand. His glove is soaked, and his forearm is wet, and when you glance down at the sheets, they are damp and dark with the mess you made. Simon doesn’t seem to mind. He leans in to eat more, pulling his fingers out so he can use his mouth again, tongue deep as he sucks and hinges that big jaw to get a mouthful of you and groan. You taste good–nice and sweet, thick juices wetting his chin, and he squeezes your ass in appreciation when you throw it back and smother him. He likes this. Likes the lack of air, the wet pussy, the soft whines. He’s content here, and he doesn’t seem like he wants to move anytime soon, and he doesn’t complain. He just opens his mouth and swirls and tongue and fuck–your clit is in his mouth, and you’re crying.

It’s too kind. An alpha kneeling for their mate. Taking pleasure in their pleasure. It’s not unheard of, but it’s…unorthodox. It confuses you. Your omega cries with happiness, but she’s confused, too. She doesn’t expect pleasure just for pleasure–but she wants it, she wants more of it, she’s digging her nails into your skin to try and get you to convince Simon to give you more, more, more.

“Give it to me,” Simon murmurs. “‘s olright. Give it to me.”

“Simon–”

“Mhm,” he nods, cocking his head and taking your clit into his mouth again. “Give it ‘ere.”

Your orgasm hits hard, but it’s nice and slow. Your thighs shake, but Simon sinks into you, breathing out through his nose as he delicately laps at your clit. He doesn’t stop, swallowing as you come into his mouth, keeping the pace to make sure your orgasm fizzles just as good as it hit you.

You sink to your tummy when he pulls away. Your knees give out, and he slips your panties completely off, and you flop onto the dry side of the bed. You start to cry. Not tears of relief, but tears of pain. Of what is inevitable. Of the hard truth that you loathe more than anything.

Simon can never force you. You will always want him, you think. There will always be something in the back of your mind that aches for him, and you try and you try and you try to fight it off, but you want him so viscerally, it cuts you deep where you’ll never notice it.

“Say wotever you want about me,” Simon mutters. “Tell yourself wotever you want that helps you sleep at night, hate me oll you want. But I take care of wot’s mine.” He strokes your hair out of your eyes, leaning down, and you cry harder. You clutch a pillow, hug it tight, and your eyes flutter open as you look at him. His mask is still hiked up just under his nose, and you can see half his face. Scars that cut across him like paintbrush strokes, adding texture and depth where there shouldn’t be.

“You have no idea what it’s like,” you whisper. “You have no idea what it’s like for every single part of yourself to betray what you want. You don’t get it. Y-You don’t understand, you never will. You will always have the upper hand, and y-you will never know what it’s like to not have a choice.”

Simon continues to brush through your hair with his fingers. Soothing you gently, coaxing you into a headspace that feels like white noise. You whine, and Simon comes closer. He presses his mouth to your forehead, soft, gentle, his scent close enough that your beating heart slows down considerably just in response.

“No, I won’t,” Simon agrees. “But that’s what you are. You’re an omega.”

He says it like it’s so simple. Like it explains everything in the entire world. Being an omega is the simplest answer he could ever give, and it explains every variable, every nuance, every quirk that makes you you. It explains every time you sink to your knees for him. It explains how easily you let him fuck you on a rooftop in a foreign country. It explains how even though you hate him with every fiber of your being, there is somehow no one else you want standing over you now.

“I’m still me.”

“No,” Simon shakes his head. “You cannot change wot you are. You’re fighting her, and you will lose.”

You wonder, for just a second, if Simon is speaking from experience. Have there been times when his alpha takes over? Does it take control? Are there times when he looks in the mirror, too, and doesn’t know who is staring back?

“I hate her, too,” you spit. “I hate her, and I hate you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his terrible face. The first one you’ve ever seen. You hate the urge you have to lean forward and kiss it.

“She is you.”

“Then I hate me. I hate myself.”

Simon changes the sheets silently. He picks you up and moves you when he has to–two big, burly arms picking you up like you’re a feather. You cling to his neck, studying him, and you find yourself not being able to look away. He’s so capable. He’s so independent. He’s so reactive to your needs, it infuriates you, how could one man be so in tune with you, more than yourself?

He drapes all new blankets over you. He turns out most of the lights, except for the low glow of the yellow lamp on his desk. He tucks you in, making sure you’re warm, and then he bends down to say something to you, in your ear.

“Dunno wot you think,” he tells you, “but there will be no omega after you.” His voice drops low, and when you close your eyes, you hear his alpha. Threatening, affirmative, exact. “You are mine. I’ll not ‘ave another. The sooner you accept tha’, the easier things’ll be for you.”

Mine, mine, mine–

“Eat a dick.”

Mine, mine, mine–

“Much prefer y’r cunt, kitty.”

Simon’s protection is instinctual. It’s not really a choice, it’s subconscious. He watches you braid your hair in your room, observes as you tuck it behind your ears and tie it off your face. He hovers as you gear up. Watches you buckle your belt, strap your tact vest, adjust your helmet. He comes over after you’ve laced your boots, tugging on your vest to make sure it’s secure and fastening your helmet for you. You let him as you clip your watch on, closing your eyes as he smooths a thumb across your cheek and turns you towards the door.

It’s a long flight. You fall asleep, your face smushed against his arm, and when you wake up, Simon is still sitting there, hands on his knees, staring straight ahead. John smokes, Gaz has a folded up little book in his hand with what seems like sudoku pages, and Johnny is twirling what looks like a fidget spinner in one hand. You blink awake, but it’s dark out, pitch-black.

That’s the job. Dark, where you can use night as cover. Stealth. You and Simon have been tasked with clearing out one building on your own. Several stories, possible targets inside, presumed armed and dangerous. You were given the clear to eliminate any threats on sight–the op is capture or kill, and John made that very clear in a small room that reeked of his authority.

The bird drops you a few kilometers from where your target building lies. You flip the night-vision down, flicking it on, and you stick to Simon like glue as you follow him silently through empty streets. You’re somewhere in Eastern Europe, somewhere cold and unfeeling and just on the border of Russia. You aren’t privy to any more details; all you know is that your mission is to be Simon’s cover, and you have the face of your target memorized and burned into the back of your eyes.

You spot your target building at the end of the block. The streetlight flickers, and it looks like a low-income apartment building. It’s very small, dilapidated, with a peeling entrance door that has the window broken, hastily patched up with duct tape. It’s no trouble for Simon to stick the scope of his rifle through the duct table and shred the remaining glass to pieces, putting his hand through the window and unlocking the door easily.

The first few floors are clear. Simon always enters a room first, with you in quick succession. You are silent, touch and go, soft taps on shoulders that the both of you can read immediately. You’re in tune with him. When he steps left, so do you. When he turns, you cover, when he sweeps up, you sweep down. It’s a dance, a very well coordinated one, and it lets Simon breathe easier when he realizes how well you’ve adapted to each other over a short period of time.

Just a few weeks, and you are two sides of each other.

Simon swallows down the prideful purr in his chest. Now isn’t the time to get distracted.

When you make your way to the top floor, just below the roof, your chest starts to feel warm. You pause at the top of the stairs as Simon keeps his rifle trained at the first door in front of him. You swallow hard, widening your stance to keep yourself upright. You shake your head, trying to toss the jitters off of you. Your throat hurts as the saliva goes down.

Simon clears the room with you shuffling close behind. You blink rapidly when you see two of Simon, and he whips around suddenly. You can see him through your night vision stiffening in front of you. Shoulders tensing, fingers gripping his rifle tighter. You pause as he comes close to you, and your eyes water when he lifts one hand from his gun to cup your face gently.

You know what he’s asking. You nod shakily, and he taps his wrist with two fingers.

Give me two minutes, is what he’s saying to you.

You don’t get two minutes.

The door behind you slams open. Two men breach inside, and they come at you with a force too strong, and you go flying towards the far wall. Your back hits it hard, and you collapse onto the ground. Your whole body aches, and you know there will an array of nasty bruises under the skin. Your helmet took the brunt of the hit, but you still feel dizzy as it falls off your head, clattering to the ground. You cough, scrambling for your rifle that is a few feet away from you now, and Simon drops one of them with a few easy bullets, but the second man uses his dead companion as cover, throwing the body at Simon until he can lunge at him.

Simon swipes the blade out of his boot and goes for his weak spots. He manages to get him under the arm, across his thigh, but Simon is wearing a lot of gear, and with the weight of a dead alpha getting tossed at him again, he gets moved backwards enough to lose his footing, and then it happens.

The man’s gun fires, and it goes straight for Simon’s head. A flash of light that seals some sick sort of fate that you know can’t be yours. It’s not you that screams in response.

It is your omega.

You launch yourself at him. In your daze, your omega finds clarity, and she seizes her moment. You slip the blade out of its place in your thigh holster, and you toss a nearby chair at him to incapacitate his gun. It gets trapped underneath it, enough time for you to jump and land on him from behind.

He’s an alpha. Physically, you should be no match for him given your size differences, but something else is taking over. Your nails don’t just grab, they pierce his skin. Digging it, shredding flesh, and you bring your blade down over and over again against his chest. He screams in pain, trying to wriggle you off. You lock your ankles around his middle, keeping your hand coming, tearing with your nails and slicing with your knife, but he manages to get an arm underneath you and throw you off.

You hit the ground again roughly, but it doesn’t stop your omega. She gets right back up, but he tackles you. He uses his weight to pin you down, and the knife rings as it slides across the room, but your omega doesn’t let it stop her. He got too close, and she will make sure he regrets it.

He went for your mate, and she cannot have that. She won’t survive without him. Unclaimed, but she doesn’t care–Simon is hers, and she won’t let him go without something all-encompassing and violent. He’ll have to pry Simon out of her dead hands. You feel like you’re watching from the sidelines. You’re not yourself. It’s the first time that you don’t really care.

You scream, leaning up, and he doesn’t get a moment to think before you sink your teeth into the plush of his scent gland and rip it clean out.

Fuck. There’s blood gushing everywhere, spurting from where you’ve severed the gland. The gland is precious, anatomically–it provides most of the oxygen to the brain, and it’s what seals the bond. While it can’t be marked the same way an omega’s can, an alpha can’t survive without it. You’re finding out just how precious it is as you watch an alpha cough and sputter once he realizes what’s happening to him.

He crawls off of you, trying to use his hand to put pressure to his neck, but it’s no use. He leans against the wall and chokes, blood filling his mouth, and you spit out the flesh from between your teeth as you watch him gurgle and kick his feet out. He reaches out for you, pleading in his eyes, but you feel no mercy. There’s tears coming down his face now, and you watch with a scowl as the blood spills between his fingers instead of bringing his brain precious life.

Good fucking riddance.

You turn over once you’re satisfied he won’t get up. You see Simon still sprawled on his back behind you, and you scramble to get to him. You grab his helmet and throw it off, and you start to cry, feeling around and realizing there’s something sticky oozing and pooling onto your fingers. You can’t see very well in the dark, but you put pressure anyways, unsure of what you’re dealing with. Your heartbeat is loud, and it echoes in your ears.

“No–No!” You gasp. You grab Simon’s radio, hands shaking as you press down onto the button.

“Bravo-6, d-do you c-copy?” You cry. “Bravo-6, answer–please–”

“Kit?” John’s voice comes out surprised, low. “What happened?”

“Si–Ghost–” You sob, “W-We need a medevac! Medevac–top floor–”

Your hands continue to shake as you reach for the bottom of his mask and rip it off. It’s the first time you’ve seen him without the mask, but you need to know. You need to know.

His face–it is a little ugly. The eye-black is smeared across his freckles, bleeding across his face from the sweat. He has scars everywhere; they criss-cross along his cheek, cut his lips, but you ignore that as you lean down and put your ear to his mouth.

His breaths come shallow and slow.

You cry with relief, feeling around with your fingers. When all you feel is blood, you pick up his helmet and cry harder when you notice the side of the helmet has been grazed, and the bullet casing lies near his head.

He had missed.

He missed.

You cup his face, tapping his cheeks gently, trying to wake him up.

“Simon?” You whisper, sniffling. “Simon, wake up. Please wake up. Please–”

You can’t carry him. Even if you tried to get your omega to help you, you aren’t physically strong enough to pick him up and carry him out. He’s too big and too heavy, and you wouldn’t be useful anyways; you’d be without cover trying to haul his ass to a bird that’s just too far away.

“Simon–”

He coughs. You gasp, wrapping an arm under him and trying to sit him up. He’s so much heavier with all of his gear on, but you do it anyways, lifting him up and laying his head in your lap. You lean down, pressing your forehead to his, and you cup the back of his neck.

“I thought he killed you–” You sob. Simon hums, his eyes opening and closing, and you smooth a few fingers down his cheek, relieved to hear him breathe. In and out, in and out, low and slow as he blinks away the spots in his vision.

Your eyes meet. It’s not a look you were expecting. You expected him to be angry, but he’s not. He’s looking at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. You must look a sight, you think. There must be blood on your face, staining your teeth, but all of your senses are dulled as you try and read him.

Your hands shake as you brush a bit of dust off his face. Your fingers are trembling, but it’s grounding to touch him and see him blink those dark eyes up at you. God, he’s not ugly, no, he’s gorgeous. He’s so beautiful. He’ll never be prettier than the way he is now. Raw and vulnerable–Simon is most himself here, you think, stuck in the in-between of an operation. This is where he must feel everything the most. You open your mouth to say something else, to ask him if he’s okay, but then his face scrunches when he finally realizes where you are.

“On the door,” Simon mutters. “Get y’r gun on the fuckin’ door.”

“Simon–”

“Now!”

You scramble to reach for the handgun in your thigh holster, turning to get up on your knees and cover the door. You will your hands to stop shaking, gripping the handle of the gun tight to keep them steady. You can hear Simon getting himself together behind you. Shuffling onto his feet, picking up his rifle and his helmet. When you look over your shoulder for just a second, you notice his mask is back on.

“Bravo-7 to Bravo-6, east building clear,” Simon rasps. He shoves his way past you, rattling you a little, and you stare at his back, defeated, as he clears the rest of the floor before making his way up the last flight of stairs. You hear your captain responding on comms, but you’re not paying enough attention. Simon slams the roof door shut once its behind you, and you wipe your eyes as Simon gets situated for overwatch as you cover the door.

“Simon, are you–”

“I don’t want to hear another word outta you unless we got contact on this fuckin’ roof,” Simon interrupts.

“I saved your ass!” You cry. “I did that! He would’ve killed you, you fucking asshole, so for once in your life, can you just look at me and say a fucking thank you?!”

Maybe Simon’s right. If you fight your omega, maybe you will lose. She might just kill you. You know she can. You’ve seen it happen before. Omegas that didn’t listen, losing themselves to the insanity of their inner struggle. It’s a violent end. It’s like they electrocute from the inside-out. Their minds betray them, and they let it take over, and with no alpha to soothe them, they’re just gone. If they drift too far, you can’t get yourself back.

Use me. I know what to do. I can get him back.

You do the only other thing you can try; you let your omega do the talking. The sweet, syrupy voice. The soft lilt. The edge that glides, doesn’t cut, the one that will hit his ear just right and hopefully get his alpha tick-tick-ticking inside of his head. The one that didn’t work on Kate–but Kate was not your mate. Kate never responded to you at all, not the way Simon does, and Kate has never tasted your cunt. Her alpha doesn’t know what she’s missing.

I can do it. Let me in.

“Please, Simon,” you beg. You see his fingers twitch as he adjusts the scope on his rifle. They falter, adjusting it just a few degrees too far. Simon doesn’t make mistakes, but then again he’s never had his omega purring in his ear like that. “Please.”

You make your way to him, curling a hand around his bicep. You tug him closer, trying to get him to look at you. He resists, but it’s a pathetic kind of resistance. The kind that you can overpower with just another firm tug. You can sense it, his hesitance, and your omega giggles in your head.

I have him. I can do it. Don’t worry.

“John was right,” Simon breathes. “You’re a problem. A liability.”

A liability because he doesn’t belong to anyone but you, maybe. He’s John’s liability. Not yours. Simon may be a part of their pack, but they should’ve picked up a fucking book when they knew you were coming. Submissiveness might be an inherent “trait” of your kind, but you realize now that is just a lie that alphas tell omegas to keep them quiet.

To keep them soft. To keep them begging. It’s probably something that your kind have learned over time, so distinct that you inherit it from someone that came before you, but you’re convinced that this kind of obedience and docility can be unlearned. It can be used.

If an omega cries, it would be stupid for an alpha to ignore it. It’s in their DNA–with just a soft whine, you can make Simon drop that rifle and bend you over any surface. They say it is for your sake. They say it is because omegas must be serviced or else they will succumb to themselves, but that isn’t what this is, and that’s not why omegas aren’t allowed in the field.

They’re not allowed because you can make Simon defy orders; because John can tell Simon something, and you can tell him something else, and you’re almost certain you know which way Simon will lean.

“Please just look at me, Simon,” you whisper. “Please.”

You cradle his face when he finally does. Your palms touch his wet mask, likely soaked with his own blood. You stand on your toes and draw his face closer to yours.

Fuck them for making you feel small. Fuck them for making you feel less than. Fuck anyone that ever made you feel like you were anything but in control, including her. If she just explained what she could do, this could’ve been a lot easier. If she just told you what she was capable of, you could’ve worked together. You could’ve given her what she wanted, and she could’ve given you what you wanted, and it could’ve been so much simpler.

“Gonna get me fuckin’ killed,” Simon growls. You start to cry again. Not because what he’s saying hurts you, but because he’s still bleeding, and all you can see when you close your eyes is that gun firing right at his head.

This is your ticket. This is your way out. Fuck Kate for making you believe that all you were meant for was being in his bed. You’re so close–aren’t you? You didn’t realize how close you were, but now you do, and you know exactly what to do.

You’re going to make them very, very sorry. You’re going to make them regret ever letting you inside. Your divisive, spitfire nature was not your line of defense. It was the indication of the future you always dreamed of, the future that is one bite-mark away from being tangible. You can taste it, like you taste what Simon wants in the air.

I can do it. I can help you. Let me in.

There was never a reason to be afraid. If anything, they should’ve been afraid of you.

You kiss him. It’s not a proper kiss, because his face is still covered, but you kiss Simon anyways. His cheeks warm, and his lips part, and you kiss him softly over and over as you take his face into your hands. When his arm slides around your waist, your omega is comfortable letting your knees buckle.

She knows already that Simon will catch you.

NEXT

[letthewordsoverflow]

So I saw Anora two days ago and can't get this epilogue out of my head so just imagine this, directly following the end of the movie....

So Igor holds Anora in the car until she stops crying

then finally she gets up and then gets out of the car with a flippant joke about him zipping his dick back in "pervert"

then she takes a few steps back towards the house and then turns back and goes "well? Are you coming?"

So he goes from scrambling to zip up his pants to scrambling out of the car and following her inside

and then they go into the living room and her sister is there w her boyfriend sitting on the couch and shes just like "hey there's some lasagna in the kitchen"

so he follows anora into the kitchen (he'd follow her anywhere) and they get lasagna and they go to join her sister and her bf in the living room to watch the movie and they're cuddled on one side of the 3 seater and anora sits against the other arms so there's space in between but it'd be tight so he sits in the arm chair next to the couch

and they eat their food and are watching and he's super aware of her but definitely NOT looking at her (okay but only from the corner of his eye and she DEFINITELY cannot tell)

at some point she lets out a frustrated sigh and stands up and comes to sit in his lap and cuddles into him

eventually she falls asleep there, with her head curled under his chin, and she stays like that for a long time

he considers asking her sister for a throw blanket but then they get up and go into one of the two bedrooms down the hall

He waits a while longer, just holding her. Shes safe. And she's in his arms.

If you had asked him what he expected from being 30 three days ago, it definitely would not be this. But this, this is so much better.

He stands up and takes her to her room and sets her down in her bed and he moves her hair out of her face and just gazes at her for a second

He moves to leave but she groggily reaches out her arm and says "stay"

so he kicks off his shoes, climbs into bed, and just holds her while they sleep.

and she actually sleeps through the night instead of getting up to work (at some point he woke up to piss and he gently pushed her to ask and she was not pleased about the disruption because she "needs some fuckin rest after the last 48hours")

they wake up the next day at like noon (early for her, late for him)

So they wake up and just look at each other for a moment and then he asks "may I kiss you?" And she says "but I have morning breath" and he says "may I kiss you?" And she says "you have morning breath" and he says "may I kiss you?" And she nods, not breaking eye contact but clearly a little bashful at the vulnerability

and theyre kissing and then they're making out and at some point he pulls away and moves to just hold her and shes like "do you...not want to?"

And he goes "I want to, we just don't have to. I'm happy like this." and he cuddles her closer

and she smiles to herself and hides he face into his chest for a moment

but then she moves to straddle him and goes "what if I want to?" And he goes "whatever you want" in the tone that says 'you can have whatever you want and we never have to do anything you don't want' and seeing the sentiment echoed in his eyes has her kissing him with all she's worth (which a lot in his estimation)

and then theyre getting all hot and heavy and she takes off his shirt and moves to take off his pants

when she realizes he's still wearing his jeans so of course she gives him shit for that (but he wasn't going to climb into her bed in his underwear without her go ahead so he just takes her teasing)

and they laugh together as they keep making out and shedding clothes and then she moves to touch him (like she did in the car, but this time it was about him)

He stops her and he asks if he can do something

and she says sure

so he flips them so she's on her back (she knew he was strong, he threw her around a whole bunch not two days ago, but it was different to have him move her like that....it did it for her honestly)

he moves to go eat her out and she starts to stammer that he doesn't need to do that and he says "what if I want to"

like she said before

and then he goes at it for a nice long time

And he makes her cum

like HARD

and so shes like "I finished," meaning to say 'okay cool now im taken care of so over to fucking so you can get off' (that's just how sex works, right) and hes like "who said i am?"

And then keeps at it, making her orgasm a few more times before he even lets her touch his dick

(she can't even recall the last time a guy she was with got her off)

so she's like on cloud nine when she's finally like "stop stop"

he pulls back IMMEDIATELY and asks if she's okay and if he did something wrong

she says no, she's just over sensitive and then next time she cums she would really like if he was inside her

so then he smiles and moves up her body, kissing her along the way, to get into position

and he kisses her (she loves the taste of herself on him) and then asks if she has a condom

she says she does "but....also....we don't need to use one of you don't want to"

hes very confused

so she gets nervous and starts to ramble about how she always ALWAYS uses protection w clients and she gets tested all the time and knows shes clean (to which he says "me too") and she has an iud but its also totally cool if he wants one because she has been w a lot of partners (bc she assumes he doesn't bc of a judgement for her profession)

meanwhile hes just confused bc it didnt even ocurr to him she may want that

so he asks what she wants and she says no condom (which is kinda the biggest display of trust and intimacy she has bc she is METICULOUS about protection) (even w Ivan who, she was seeing exclusively for what is a long time in her book, she always made him use a condom)

so then they have sex

and he hits a smooth slow wave of a rhythm that really works for her

and he uses one hand to support himself over her and his other to rub her clit

and he just keeps looking at her

and the eye contact and the intimacy are too much and she cums

She cums a lot

and only then does he finally start to lose his rhythm until he's moaning into her neck as he cums

And then he rolls off her and she must be the sappiest bitch in Brooklyn because she misses having him inside her

And then he is just lying next to her breathing heavily for a moment before he quickly gets up and puts on his pants and walks out

and she feels like she must have whiplash bc they were just so intimate (more intimate than she's been with a guy in.... god she doesn't want to think of how long it's been like this)

and he's just gone

like every other guy

maybe this was all just a good fuck to him

Maybe he saw the opportunity to fuck the sex worker, knew it'd be a good time, and now he was done

she's working herself up, even though a whispering voice in the back of her mind kept saying he couldn't have gone far without shoes....or a shirt....or his phone and car keya....

by the time he comes back and shes convinced herself that he was using her and she shouldn't have let him in or trusted him or slept in his arms all night

So she starts to yell at him, which she certainly has a talent for

At first he's confused but he slowly approaches her and sits on the edge of the bed

and he looks down at his hand and then at her, asking for permission

and only then she realizes he came back with a glass of water and a warm damp towel - to clean her up, she realizes as he gently and methodically starts to clean her thighs

she sips at the cool water he handed her as she watches him slowly tend to her

then he sets the towel and glass down (after taking a sip himself... somehow his swallow was a turn on? What is happening to her?)

and he takes is jeans back off and climbs back into the bed and pulls the covers up over them and pulls her to his chest until they both fall back to asleep.

Later he drives her to work at the strip club, kisses her goodbye, and says he'll pick her up later.

As he watches her walk into HQ he can't help but think how much his grandmother is going to love her.

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Fic — 3/3

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

wc: 3k | rating: T | cw: head trauma, brain injury talk | a special thank you to @dame-zoom-a-lot for betaing! <3

The days following Steve’s Houdini act are fuckin’ tense, to say the least.

Eddie had messed up. Royally.

He could’ve sworn that when Steve took off, he’d ducked into the Recovery Center, y’know, the place he was supposed to go! If Eddie had known Steve took a detour and missed the building entirely, Eddie would’ve ran a lot fucking faster than he had. Especially after…

Well, no point in shying away from it anymore; after Steve confessed his love for him.

And how did Eddie return the favor? By being a total bone head and losing Steve for the entire goddamn day! Not to mention a good chunk of the night. Jesus… It’s no wonder Robin’s still sore.

Now, in Eddie’s flimsy defense, Steve had thrown him for one hell of a loop. One that Eddie was still seeing double from. He’s still having trouble wrapping his head around what he’d heard; Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington, King of Hawkins High, being into Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson, the drug-dealing ne’er do well hailing from the Forest Hills trailer park. Forgive him for finding the threads a little difficult to tie together! He’s not exactly Steve’s usual fare.

But it had happened.

Things have fundamentally, metaphysically, allegorically and subatomically shifted between the two of them—there’s no getting away from that, no matter how long they try and dance around this.

Steve said he loved Eddie. Love.

That isn’t something you just move on from. At least, it isn’t something Eddie can move on from. Especially when he didn’t even get to say his piece!

The trouble is that Robin’s in all-out guard dog mode with Steve, keeping Eddie at arm's length even after a whole goddamn week goes by. Sure, she’d accepted his apology (albeit begrudgingly), but she isn’t exactly keen on letting Steve out of the house without her by his side—much less with Eddie. It would be kind of heartwarming if it weren’t so goddamn annoying.

Steve isn’t some damsel locked away in a tower, and Eddie wasn’t some knight in shining armor, planning to scale the side of a stone tower to avoid the sleeping, fire-breathing dragon…

But as Eddie stares up at the fire escape attached to the side of Steve and Robin’s brick apartment building… he'd be lying if he said he didn’t sort of feel a little shiny.

Part of Eddie can’t believe it’s really come to this, but… he just can’t stand the idea of wasting another goddamn night tossing and turning, going over and over Steve’s words in his mind. Thinking about the way Steve’s hand felt in his, the way his eyes went all soft when he told Eddie he—he loved him…

Jesus H. Christ, this is way beyond his skill set—he’s way out of fucking league here, but there’s nothing for it. Eddie needs to settle this, once and for all.

So, he takes his bandana from the back pocket of his jeans and presses the flat of it to his forehead while his hands make a tight knot in the back. He zips his leather jacket as high as it’ll go and gives his hands a shake to try and get the jitters out.

It’s not exactly a helmet and plates of armor, but it’ll have to do. Eddie takes a breath, steels himself, then climbs on top of a precariously stacked pile of milk crates that he’d crafted and leaps for the steel ladder. As soon as his feet leave the plastic tower, it collapses under him, clattering to the ground. Eddie knows he shouldn’t look back, but he sneaks a peak over his shoulder and… yep. He really shouldn’t’ve looked. He’s not that high up, but it’s enough that if he falls, he’d be feeling it tomorrow. Might even bust an ankle if he landed wrong.

He turns back to the task at hand; getting to Steve.

There’s a terrifying moment where he’s not sure if he can pull himself up, but somehow, he finds the strength to do just that. If only Coach D’Amour could see him now!

He grunts as he pulls himself up onto the platform, belly getting scratched against the grates as he goes. Eddie scrambles to get his legs underneath himself. Then, he stands, dusts himself off and takes the win, graceless as it was.

The fire escape is rickety and fucking loud as he takes the steps two at a time. It’s cold enough that even the quickest touch of the steel railings drains all the heat out of his fingers, so he just keeps them balled up, swinging at his sides. The wind is especially chilly up here too, something he hadn’t noticed on the ground, but now that he’s up a couple of floors there wasn’t anything for the wind to buff off except the side of the building and, well, Eddie.

By the time he reaches the third floor, his nose is running and no doubt red and irritated looking, and he’s woefully out of breath.

Kind of a pathetic knight, he thinks as he sniffs back the worst of it, wipes the underside of his nose on the sleeve of his jacket to get rid of what’s left.

The light in Steve’s room is on, reaching out to him through the lines of Steve’s shut blinds.

His hand is raised, wind-chapped knuckles knocking against the glass of his window before he can plan out what he’s going to say. He just wants to see Steve. Get eyes on him again. Work this out.

It’s a painful few seconds before Eddie can see movement from inside the window. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently waits for Steve to let him in. His breath fogs the window.

Then finally. Finally! The blinds are pulled up. He smiles and—

Oh Christ on a cross. That’s not Steve.

Eddie’s stomach damn near falls out of his ass as the woman on the other side of the glass screams, as shrill and high as if she were next to him.

And of course she’s in a fucking towel.

Eddie slaps one hand across his eyes and the other up in surrender, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Shit, Jesus, I—I’m not a pervert, I swear!”

Debatable, his brain supplies, entirely unhelpful in an emergency situation. But hey, what’s new?

“I was looking for my friend, not—Please stop screaming!” He screams.

“Eddie?” A familiar voice calls from below.

The hand on Eddie’s eyes lift and looks down through the metal grates under his boots. “Steve!”

Steve’s hanging half out his window, peering up at him with a bewildered expression on his face. “What’re you doing?”

Eddie holds his arms out like it should be obvious. “Seeing you!” He snaps.

Eddie’s attention is briefly yanked back to the scandalized looking woman in the window in front of him. “I’m—yeah, I’m gonna—” He backs away, and swings around the escape before thundering down the stairs, shouting another apology up in his shameful retreat.

Steve backs up in order to let Eddie in. He climbs in as gracelessly as ever, all knees and elbows, stiff from the cold. He slides the window shut behind him once he’s in, dropping the blinds for good measure.

He wonders if Hopper is getting a call about a long-haired, wild-eyed, deranged looking peeping Tom at this very moment.

“Smooth.” Steve says from behind him, an edge of playfulness.

When Eddie turns and finally gets a good look at Steve, who looks especially comfortable in his flannel sleep pants and worn sweater, hands on hips. “I was looking for you.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Steve snorts softly, “third floor, remember?”

“I counted! Ground floor, first floor, second floor, third floor.” Eddie says, using his hand to indicate his pattern of thought, moving it up a tick with each floor.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. And even though Eddie knows Steve’s laughing at him, he can’t help that warm feeling that pours through him, filling him up. All his cracks and edges, sealed up with Steve’s effortless being.

“No.” Steve raises his own hand, mirroring Eddie’s. He begins notching as he explains, “ground floor, second floor, third floor. The ground is the first floor, dude.”

Eddie frowns. “What? Since when?”

Steve levels Eddie with a flat look. “Since like, the civil war, dude.”

Huh. Eddie frowns. Mulling over the new bit of information. That would’ve been nice to know.

“Why were you even doing out there in the first place? We have things called front doors. And, y’know, phones.” Steve crosses his arms across his chest, losing a bit of steam as the words left him. Like he’s realized exactly what Eddie being here, in his rooms, meant.

“I had to see you.” Eddie says, like it’s not the most obvious thing in the world, “Face to face, just me and you.”

“Can’t we just—I don’t know, pretend all of… that never happened? Hell, it might drop out of my head one of these days anyway. Lots of shit does.” Steve’s says, sounding so fucking defeated that it sends a sharp pain through Eddie’s chest.

“Hey,” Eddie makes a face, gets in Steve’s space, “don’t be a jerk to yourself.”

He ducks his head in an attempt to meet Steve’s downturned gaze, which he reluctantly returns. He’s got these big, warm eyes, the color of dark honey—the kind that are hard to look away from, so Eddie rarely does. He’a got a staring problem, he knows, but… damn. Can you really blame a guy?

A nerve in Steve’s jaw jumps when he clenches his teeth together, and salt pools begin forming along the rim of those familiar eyes. When he speaks, it’s stiff. Barely above a whisper. “I’m embarrassed, alright?”

“You don’t gotta be embarrassed, man.” Without thought, Eddie’s hands go to Steve’s arms, fingers hovering around his elbows. Eddie tilts his head again to try and keep eye contact again but Steve seems determined to avoid it.

“Easy for you to say.” Steve huffs, and sits down on the edge of his bed, slipping out of Eddie’s hold, arms still crossed over his chest. “You didn’t totally humiliate yourself in front of your—friend.”

The word, one in which Eddie holds in a most sacred of views, sounds distinctly hollow when Steve says it.

“Steve, listen to me, just for a sec, alright?” Eddie gets down to the floor, one knee buried in the carpet while the others bent out in front of him. “This is my fault.” He confesses, voice full of remorse.

Finally, Steve looks at him. His brows twitch together as he makes a face. “Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true! I—I didn’t mean to, but I’m not exactly big on the whole impulse control thing, as you know, and, thinking back on things I probably… I probably let a few things slip.” Eddie explains, his rings clinking together lightly as he gestures with his hands.

Steve, however, doesn’t look any less confused. He blinks. “What?”

Eddie lets his head fall forward in a moment of defeat as he attempts to gather up his fleeting thoughts. It’s like chasing wet, feral cats up there!

Still, he picks himself back up. For Steve.

“What I’m trying to say is…” Eddie puts his hands on Steve’s knees. Feels the warmth under the soft, worn flannel. The hard muscle. Alive, whole. He tightens his grip. “Steve, I’ve been crazy about you since the first time I ever saw you. Don’t roll your eyes—I’m serious! You sat in front of me in math one year and you forgot your pencil. We were having a test that day, and you asked me if you could borrow one of mine, so I let you have the one I was using. You chewed up the end of it, squashed the eraser to all hell, but then when you gave it back to me, you smiled, thanked me and said, ‘I owe you one.’ It—okay, yeah, so it sounds, like, really small, and probably pretty pathetic, but… I was totally starstruck, man.”

At some point in his little spiel, Steve had uncrossed his arms. So Eddie takes the opportunity to clumsily take Steve’s hands, his insides feeling like a kicked hornets nest. Buzzing. He swallows. “I still am.”

Steve keeps his mouth shut, but there’s a knot in him that’s loosening, Eddie can tell. He’s just gotta keep tugging. He squeezes Steve’s fingers.

“The feeling was cranked up a few hundred clicks because of all the, y’know, near death experiences we went through together. But you get it now, right? You get how this is all my fault?”

“Eddie, you don’t have to—” Steve starts, hands stiffening in Eddie’s hold. Slipping away. But Eddie holds firm, decides to just fucking say it. If Steve could, Eddie could too.

“I’m in love with you too.” He blurts out, and now that he’s said it out loud, it’s like there’s a dam that gets busted inside of him; he can’t stop the rush of words that follows the confession. “That’s what you were seeing. That’s what you were noticing. I thought I was being slick, just keeping it friendly or whatever. Flirting, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d ever actually reciprocate. Because, honestly man, I’m not really used to people taking me all that seriously. ‘Zany, pot-head Eddie, can’t trust anything that comes out of his crooked mouth!’”

Eddie shakes his head, scoffing at his own blind spots, “But… you saw right through that shit—right through me. You didn’t make it up in your head, Steve—you felt it. You were right.”

Steve’s got a funny look on his face, but he nods. A lock of hair falls over his forehead, but he doesn’t remove his hands from Eddie’s to fix it. “You love me?”

That’s like asking if the sun would rise tomorrow morning. Of course. Of course.

Eddie pulls one of Steve’s hands and flattens it onto his chest, over the leather.

“Every time my heart beats, it's your name it calls out, man.” Eddie says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he sees the red creep up on the apples of Steve’s cheeks. “D’you feel it?”

Steve gives a breathless chuckle, hesitating for a split second before he nods, playing along.

Electricity hums under Eddie’s skin, the resulting static snaps in the air around them. Eddie presses Steve’s hand against the wall of his chest a little harder, so that he can feel the pounding a bit better. Then Eddie whispers in time with the rhythm of his lovesick heart, giving it a voice, “Ste-vie, Ste-vie, Ste-vie…”

He keeps chanting until Steve’s grinning, eyes glued to their joined hands. It’s a fleeting thing, though. Eddie watches as that hard-won smile drops and a pinched look takes its place. “Even now? Eddie, I’m not—I don’t think I’m the same person I was before.”

“Are you kidding me? Especially now. In sickness and in health, right?” Somewhere in his brain an alarm sounds, but he doesn’t pause long enough to acknowledge exactly why, lest he lose momentum, “look, Steve, even if you are a little different from the guy you were in high school, you’re still you.”

A beat passes. “What if I never get better?”

“Steve, you will, the doctors said—”

“But what if I don’t? Jesus, Eddie, what if I get worse?” Steve’s voice had gone progressively more hushed as he spoke, as if he were so afraid of its possibility that even voicing it felt risky. Made it real, even in that small way. It’s something Steve’s thought about, Eddie realizes. Agonized over, even.

“Then I’m the lucky son of a bitch that gets to take care of you.” Eddie says, sure as shit. Truthfully, he can’t think of anything else he’d rather do, even if Steve hadn’t done a completely insane thing like falling in love with Eddie. His love isn’t conditional. “S’long as you’ll let me.” He tacks on.

It’s like a wall crumbling. Brick by brick, Eddie watches Steve’s resolve collapse. The rim of his eyes shine with unshed tears, his brow relaxes and his chin twitches. “You sure you want that?”

He scoffs, eyes wide. “It’s all I want.” He answers, quickly. A reflex. Who wouldn’t want to be with Steve Harrington? Eddie thought he was lucky just to be in the same fucking orbit as the guy, but now…

Now, as he watches a smile slowly spreads across Steve’s face—fucking Adonis incarnate—it feels like he won the goddamn lottery.

“Okay.” Steve utters, so softly that for a second Eddie thinks he’d imagined it.

“Okay?” Eddie asks, trying his damndest to keep from imploding. He’s fucking vibrating in his skin.

Instead of answering Eddie, Steve decides to clarify himself by leaning forward and pressing his mouth against Eddie’s.

Fireworks go off inside of Eddie, every inch of him. All lit up. Feels like he’s shining just as good as any knight.

One of Steve’s hands snake their way behind Eddie’s neck, pulling him closer, while the other remains held over Eddie’s jackrabbiting heart. Their lips part, and their kiss deepens. Eddie tries to keep up.

They eventually end up on Steve’s narrow twin bed laying side by side, legs entangled, kissing until their mouths go dry. Eddie swipes a calloused thumb over Steve’s cheek, savoring the feeling of the barely there stubble, the heat from the blush that never seems to subside.

They don’t speak for the rest of the night. Not even a ‘goodnight’ after Steve crawls over Eddie to flick off his bedside lamp, tugging the comforter up around their shoulders as he settles back into the safe harbor of Eddie’s arms. They don’t need words. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight, all they need to do is to rest.

Whatever comes after, they’ll deal with it together.

—

Tag List: (if you’d like to be added to a permanent tag list for all my Steddie fics, please comment/message me! ◡̈ thank you for reading, everyone!)

@stervrucht @taylortheyellowlobster @eyehartart @jinojiboundagain @sleepy-steve @lexgilga @morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife @questionablequeeries @lil-gremlin-things @ellietheasexylibrarian @ajeff855 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @thedragonsaunt @hello-sweetheart @stalactitekilla @archermightbegay @horror-music @breealtair @stevesharingtons @duraffinity @novacorpsrecruit @lawrencebshoggoth @tinyplanet95 @bookworm0690 @shoujo-wizard @weepsluv111 @justalittledrainbamage

[dreamingkitsunewrites]

Overtime Stamina

(Husband!NANAMI x fem!reader)

SUMMARY: it's one of those nights... When your sweet, loving husband comes home to you, his favourite stress-reliever,from a very long and stressful day at work...

WARNINGS: SMUT⚠️ (MDNI) (p in v sex, unprotected, overstimulation, mentions of praise kink and hair pulling)

A/N: I'm finally back! Been writing this all week, along with the Halloween- themed series I'm working on 😏. Anyways... hopefully you'll like this one, comments and opinions are always appreciated! Thanks to anyone who will read it!

My 🔥 JJK MATERIALIST 🔥 HERE

TAGLIST: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @lordbelkamort @viviennevianna

“Already home, darling?” 

You were standing by the kitchen sink preparing dinner, trying your best to keep your mind occupied until his overtime shift was finally over. You heard the front door creaking open and slam shut closely after. Nanami Kento, your beloved husband, was finally home after a long, stressful day at work. 

No answer. You wiped your wet hands on the kitchen cloth and made your way to the hallway, checking for him. 

But you couldn't even pass the kitchen doorstep that you bumped into your husband’s muscular figure towering over you: his strong hands instantly gripped your waist tightly to pull you flush against him, while his lips smashed onto yours for a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue began to dominantly explore your mouth, unusually rough and demanding, making your teeth almost clash against each other’s.

 “Wow…Welcome home,Ken!” You panted jokingly through the kiss, trying to catch your breath. Nanami didn't even care to answer: his lips just trailed down the curve of your neck and you felt his warm, ragged breath against your skin, hoovering and teasing your pulsepoint.  His suit jacket layed scattered on the hallway ground, an unusual behaviour for your neat and tidy husband. A doubt flashed into your mind: “Long day at the office uh?” you smiled softly at him, wrapping your hands around his toned back.

 No answer. Again. Oh fuck…

You looked up to him with an innocent, questioning look, just to find his golden tired pupils  eyeing you down from above with an unreadable, complex expression adding a dark layer to his usually loving expression. The lingering doubt had just turned into a certainty…

Click.

His veiny hands reached his belt, undoing it effortlessly. In moments like this he didn't even look anything near your sweet, caring husband… in nights like the one you were probably about to embark for, when he headed back home particularly stressed and angry from overtime, he looked more like an enraged beast… and your body typically ended up being the only stress-reliever who could help him calm his racing mind. You soon understood you were in for one of those,very long nights. A thrill crossed your spine at the mere thought. You swallowed, caressing his cheek and feigning obliviousness “Hey Ken…talk to me…H-How was your day?”

“Idiots…” he murmured against the exposed skin of your neckline  “I spent the whole day surrounded by a bunch of nagging and annoying idiots, while my beautiful wife was waiting f’me” he hissed in a low, husky tone.

Zip. Before even realising it, you were bent over the armrest of the expensive black leather couch you both had accurately chosen for your living room, cool air suddenly hitting your exposed buttocks as Kento pulled your lovely, floral skirt up to your waist, drawing your panties aside.

“Couldn't wait to be home, darling… today has been a nightmare, those shitty people always manage to get on my nerves… and that damn overtime…fuck” he complained, while his rough hands travelled up and down your ass and tighs possessively, squeezing the soft flesh “Thank gods I have you… couldn't stop thinking about your tight little hole wrapped around me all day long” he whispered against your heated core, causing you to shiver under his touch. His fingers parted your folds, and a groan escaped his lips at the sight of your glistening wet entrance. 

“So tight it's marvelous…this small hole always makes me forget about everything bad”. He smacks a kiss on your clit, before pulling away for a tiny second to enjoy the view. You let out a strangled moan as you feel him sinking all of his long, girth shaft deep into your poor cunt without warning, burying himself ball-deep inside of you. You suddenly felt filled to the hilt, his tip up to your cervix, with a mix of pain and pleasure “Mh.. damn…so warm and tight…feels like home” an animalistic, throaty groan  escape his lips,as he senses your helpless whimpers. He leans down to your ear, his hands gently caressing your back “I know darling, it's a lot to take… but I need it so badly…I need you to take every inch of me, like a good girl, to let me fuck your tight hole senless tonight…Will you do that for me, my love?” His words fueled your moans and you bury your face in the expensive decor pillow. You were more than willing to give your husband whatever he needed, even if that meant you wouldn't be able to walk for the soreness the next day, as it usually happened…in that last moment of lucidity, you took a mental note to remember where you put painkillers last time, just in case… 

His sudden movement snapped you out of your reverie: your hands instinctively held onto the rough fabric under you for dear life, to avoid being pushed forward to the other corner of the couch under the force of his first, powerful thrust. He soon started moving,setting a merciless, hammering peace. Nanami’s minds was lost in the feeling of the moment he longed for all day, his hard dick finally able to sneak into the warmth of your gummy walls’embtace: he tilted his head back in bliss and his thumbs sank into the small ripples on your lower back, his favourite habit when he fucked you doggy style to keep your waist firmly in place, supporting himself as he pounded into you. He always reduced you in a moaning mess when he fucks you from behind: Your walls started to clench around him relentlessly, as you felt the familiar knot already forming in your stomach.

 His usual low and sensual groans were replaced by animalistic grunts and the tale of his torturing day without you: “Work is shit…ngh, fuck…sitting for hour at a goddman desk suroounded by shallow people…damn, honey you’re milking my cock soo good...Phil, that dickhead, ruined our meeting today…the boss had to say the same things over and…fuckyesjustlikethat, over and…ngh, it lasted more than an hour…oh, my cock was already so hard for you..Having you like this was all I needed” Nanami leaned down on you once again and placed a kiss on your spine, the softwess of it contrasting with the ruthlessness of his pace. That night he surprised you with the display of his unusual talkative side right in the middle of sex. He groaned loudly while he kept on complaining about his day at the office, finally answering the long-forgotten question you asked him as he entered the door: “and the customers…damn a bunch of people wasting their time and money over investments they don't even understand…ngh…hafta explain…oh fuck…the same old shit a hundred fucmking times…oh yeah baby, take it just like that…tell me how much you want it” you let out a desperate gasp as he adjusted his angle, finding and hitting- or better- bruising your g-spot over and over again with his thick,swollen tip. Your walls fluttered around him, your helpless muffled cries fueling adrenaline straight to the core of his ego, boosting his stamina.

“S’too much, Kentoooo” you stammered in a ridiculously pitched voice, as his thrusts became  faster and erratic. One of his large hands reached for your clit, now aching for attention, and started drawing small circles in synch with his thrusts, making your eyes roll in pleasure as he sent you over the edge with a loud moan.

“I know, sweetheart…I know…just a little more, a little longer…let go for me…I'm almost there,too…do it…mhm… for me…  my pretty wife taking me..nghg so well is the best reward after a day like this” he shushed you, a wicked smirk appeared his face, as he knew too well ge just told a white lie to you: he was far from satisfied with your encounter, he didn't plan to slow down anytime soon, not before he fucked you dumb to the point you forgot your own name…  

You came down from your first -of a long series-  high of the night, but his rhythm didn't slow down, instead, he kept on smashing his waist into your sensitive cunt, supporting your trembling legs, now feeling like jelly under his touch. 

You let out a surprised moan and turned your face to him with a pathetic, questioning look. In response, he resumed expressing his doleances through gritted teeth, the wet, slippery, filthy sound of your bodies collapsing together filling your living room… he named people, contracts, companies…but simply you weren’t listening anymore: the strength of your first orgasm left your brain hazed and your pussy -oh so sensitive … yet, he didn't seem like having any mercy for your poor body …you could feel he wasn't even nearly close to cumming, his thrusts still powerful and controlled. In the end, physical endurance has always been one of your husband’s strongest points… you knew too well he could go on like that for hours, stretching your poor little hole on and on for different rounds, in every angle and position.

Ironically, at a certain point Kento asked for your opinion on a matter you couldn't even understand in between crazily pleasurable thrusts “... Dumb mistake of him, isn't it, honey? Everybody knows the interest rate is destined to rise, nowadays” 

Your eyes fluttered open in shock: Was he really expecting you to answer?… how could he think you would have been able to form coherent phrases with his fat, dripping cock pistoning in and out your sensitive,abused cunt? Overstimulation was hitting so hard to have you tripping over your words,preventing your dumb-fucked brain from even understanding the meaning of a word he spoke. “T-t-the rate is…ahhh, Kentooo…High… oh-oh…”  You came again, harder this time,your inner walls massaging his dick perfectly. He cherished making a mess out of his usually neat and composed wife: a copious mix of your juices and his precum pouring out of your stretched hole and staining the refined leather under your butt… the sight of  saliva drooling out your parted lips and your watery eyes as he grabbed your hair,pulling them towards him to tilt your head backwards, meeting his proud gaze…

”that’s my beautiful wife, you look so beautiful when I fuck you like this,honey” he would have bought a hundred new expensive sofas in that moment, he would have spent all of his money on those, just to see you bent on your tiptoes, weak legs trembling for him while he fucked up your brain every night…

You felt your third orgasm shaking your whole body, a tingly feeling growing stronger and stronger inside your gut until you felt like exploding. You had to gather all of your stray lucidity to ask in between ragged breaths, in a shaking, pleading tone “Kento, honey, are you close now?”

He growled raspily in response: “Yes baby…  so close now…mngh… you’re milking me so well…about to take every drop of me “ he caressed your reddened cheeks, smirking at the sight of his big five-fingered imprint on the delicate skin.

 You were about to sigh in relief, you couldn't take his loving anymore…but your eyes fluttered open as he continued in his usual deep, soothing voice: “ …oh don't worry,my love…You know Imma give you some time to rest after…ohhh fuck yes, Just like that…want my pretty wife to get ready for second round…fuck…I’m so damn close….yes…oh…you feel like heaven…YESSS” with a final throaty grunt he finally released his thick loads of cum deep down your pussy…but his hunger for you wasn't fulfilled yet: you could feel his cock already hardening against your used-up, restless walls… in that moment you knew you wouldn't have been able to even get out of bed tomorrow…oh but it was worth every second of it!;)

Thank you if you've come this far!🙏🏼

[quackstr]

late night hours

summary: boss!walter takes you in his office

tags: porn what plot, workplace sex, riding, blowjob/oral sex (m receiving), female reader, use of “slut”

word count: 2.2k

inspiration: rework of a fic of reader x karl mayer, which was inspired by his relationshop with bree.

it all started with a little of wine in his dimly lit office.

just hours later, you ended up laid on top his desk, your legs spread with him between. there was no time for careful undressing, the detective was simply too impatient for that: there were more buttons ripped apart and zips undone with teeth than clothes being handled appropriately and slowly.

and when he FINALLY pulls that tight little dress off of you, he relishes in the sight of your matching black lingerie, which tells one simple truth: you'd been planning this way before you even walked in.

walter was the type to be absolutely clueless to the effect he had on the ladies: what with his tall, muscular frame that had him towering over anyone. so perfect, yet so humble. which somehow made it worse…

you let him whisper sweet nothings with that deep, smooth voice as he sucks at your exposed neck before pushing him down to his chair with your stiletto. walter gives a low whistle as your heel slowly traces his chest, downwards towards his crotch. the shoe playfully rubs and teases him, repeating this taunting motion until walter is groaning.

"fuck-- baby- you're killing me over here--" he moans out, a smirk growing across his lips.

"am i?" you tease.

once you were satisfied with his begs, you jump off the desk and immediately fall to your knees. walter watches excitedly as you take your place between his thighs, removing his sweater and tossing it to the floor like every article of clothing before it.

you unfasten his belt, making sure to keep eye contact the whole time. eventually, after releasing himself from the prison of his pants, walter blows a deep sigh of relief.

you undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and leave soft, sloppy kisses down his chest, producing a trail of red lipstick stamps.

then, you lick at his muscular abdomen and lower your point of worship at a leisurely pace, until you reach his cock, aching and throbbing as if it were about to jump out of his boxers at any moment. drooling, you mouth at it through the fabric, walter’s low growls filling the air.

it is a pathetic, yet hauntingly beautiful sight: your panting around the imprint of his dick and sniffing at his intoxicating scent.

"oh, baby, you're drooling everywhere." he teased.

you scowl at him.

biting down on his boxers, you gradually manage to pull it down with just your teeth - walter watches with a smug look on his face, sinking back into his seat.

a groan spills from his lips as you pull down his boxers, unleashing his dick… all 7 inches..

you gulp - his cock is monstrous in length and girth.

veins trace the length and it seems to throb with your teasing touches, begging for more. as if your body moved by itself, his tip slips between your lips.

it feels hot. warmth fills your mouth as his dick sinks down your throat.

"good girl." a low grumble leaves his lips.

his words tremble as his cock disappears between your lips, and for the 3 inches which still evade your lips by the time you start to gag, you wrap your hand around and began to massage.

his girth is so impressive so even your hand struggles to handle him. for the length lodged inside your mouth, you give a gentle sunction.

"do you know how sexy you look with my cock down your throat?"

his hand moves to the back of your head, giving light guidance to your movement. the room fills with your lewd sucking noises. walter’s hand urges you to take more and more.

you allow him to push you down until your lips reach the base. mere seconds pass before you begin to struggle and gag uncontrollably, and a few more seconds pass before walter releases the back of your head.

"look at you, taking me so well--" he chuckles at your panting.

you take a second to catch your breath before you return to working. you can hear him suck in air sharply as you envelope one of his balls. walter groans as he leans back further in his chair.

"if i'd known what a good little cocksucker you were, I would've had you down here ages ago." he laughs.

"shut up." you spit out between gentle sucks, glaring at him as you stroke the length of his cock.

"love it when you talk back." walter says, holding up your hair into a ponytail as you return to sucking his length. he was a secret control freak, and as much as he loved watching you take the lead, he thought you had been doing that for long enough now.

just as he gently pushed down on your head, walter slowly lifts his leg and gently presses his heel into the flesh of your ass, driving you closer to him and goading more of his cock deeper inside your throat.

tears welling in the corners of your eyes, you continue to take as much of walter as he needed. you study his reactions, taking note of what he likes. quite funnily, walter’s eyes always seem to roll back into his head whenever you tease the slit of his tip; equally, you could never swirl your tongue around his dick without hearing a series of praises and grunts.

"fuck, baby, i'm so close---!" he groans out.

with those words, you quicken your pace, your head bobbing up and down with an impressive velocity. his hips begin to roll uncontrollably, shoving more of himself in you. your tongue presses against the underside of his cock, twisting and working with great drive.

walter drinks up the delicious sight, only made hotter by your submission to his hand. if only he could have you here, underneath his desk and working at his cock, during the day.

walter grunts loudly again and you feel his cock twitch violently inside your mouth.

"yea- here it comes, baby." you stifle your gag reflex and sheathe the entirety of his dick down your throat, choking as your feel the warm release pour down your throat.

for a few moments too long, walter holds your head down, rutting into you and releasing the final pieces of himself deep inside.

your head shoots up, having swallowed all his cum, albeit not without any struggle. still, walter continues to pump at his cock and hold your head at the crown of his cock. pushing your tongue out and awaiting the last of his load, the final ropes of cum spurt out.

however, you severely underestimate the power at which his cum shoots out, because whilst some of his load lands on your tongue as planned, it shoots across your whole face, including your lips, nose and eyelids.

with his index and middle fingers, walter wiped his semen off your face, scooping up the entirety and holding it to your lips.

"suck it."

your lips part to his demand and swallow his fingers. he urges his thick fingers inside until the knuckles were at your lips. walter presses his fingers onto your tongue, forcing his flavours around the inside of your mouth. your eyes showed hunger and he was feeding you.

walter taps his thigh, and you straddle his lap, his fingers still entrapped by your lips. then, incredibly slowly, he releases his fingers with a POP.

he draws you in for a kiss, a deep and passionate kiss. walter tastes himself on your tongue, and he loves how fucking filthy it is. your roll your hips into his dick, already growing hard again, and your ass is met by a firm smack on your ass and a loud yelp falling from your lips.

walter’s fingers tease at your pussy through the fabric whilst he laughes at your soft moans and whimpers. unable to support yourself, your arms wrap around his neck, with your head falling into his neck and inhaling his aftershave.

"you're soaked for me, baby," he teases as he continues to play with you like a toy. "been deprived of a good time for a while, haven't you?"

his hand slips inside your panties and presses himself between your lips. you hover over the man's cock, somehow already fully erect again, as you rock your hips into his fingers.

your moans are really loud. fortunately for the two of you, everyone else had already gone home: the two of you could be as noisy as you wanted, which walter almost definitely plans for you to. he mercilessly plays with your pussy, stunned at how your body reacts so beautifully to his touch.

you are too overcome with rapture to notice a strong arm wrap around and undo your bra in one swift movement. he grabs your tit, squeezing it tight.

in the same breath, you slip out of your panties, your entrance pressing against his aching cock. walter hugs you close, squeezing you against his well-built hairy chest. as he leans over to grab a condom, walter accidentally causes you to grind against his cock - the two of you moan out in unison.

walter rolls the condom on and feeds a generous glob of spit to his cock, rubbing it around. you place your hands on his shoulder before you lower yourself, allowing his dick to sink up slowly into your pussy.

whimpers escape your mouth. walter was just so fucking big.

"good girl--" he sigs, his nostrils flaring. "you're taking my cock so well."

you exhale in pleasure as you began to take in more and more of him. struggling to take in his beastly size, you hug him tight, though it results in his face buried in your tits. walter laps up a nipple and gives gentle suctions to your breast.

eventually, walter bottoms out with a deep groan erupting from his lips. his dick seems to press against your deepest insides. the two of you simply keep still for a few seconds, though it feels more like minutes. then, you begin to move again.

at first, it is slow and sensual, with the two of you falling into a passionate kiss, which seems to last forever and taste like paradise. his lips are soft yet hungry. his tongue is rough yet loving. his hands are gentle yet greedy. hips roll against eachother and you allow yours to rock deliciously into his body.

still with slow movements, walter grabs your hips and start to fuck upwards into your pussy. you match his pace and meet his tender thrusts. however, the absolute avarice in his eyes tells you that this gentleness and patience won’t last for too long.

and almost as if you had jinxed it, walter’s expression transitions to a smirk. the second warning is his tightening grasp on your hips, before his pace quickens suddenly.

as his rhythm evolves from leisurely to merciless, your moans fill the room, "oh- my- god-!"

"fuck- baby, you're fucking squeezing me." he almost reprimands, though the smile on his face suggests only bliss.

a harsh slap meets your ass.

fucking up into you at an ungodly speed, walter hugs you close by the hips. with no other choice, you collapse onto him, clutching him by his black curls.

“some good dick can turn any good girl into a naughty girl.” he teases.

“ngh-“ you’re too crazed to make any intelligible response. and walter smiles with self-satisfaction from watching you break yourself on his cock.

you pant out with each deep thrust.

“yes- yes- yes-“

suddenly, he slows and lets you go, leaning back into a relaxed position. a firm smack to your ass prompts you into moving again.

with your hands places on his chest for support, you throw your ass onto his dick. not quite meeting walter’s speed nor his ruthlessness, but it’s close.

walter leans back on his arms behind his head, amused from watching your feeble attempts to take his cock.

you regain your composure as your swirl your hips faster and ground into walter more and more. even for just a split second, you see his smug disguise slip, revealing an expression of pure lust.

you throw your head back as you feel your climax approach.

"what a good fucking slut." walter praises as his hands return to your ass and hips.

"yes-! yes--!" you exclaim through an exceptionally deep thrust. “hnghh!!"

his rhythm returns to his previous velocity - except that it is way sloppier.

"say it." walter says between grunts. "say that- you're just a dirty- little- slut— for me to fuck."

"i'm just dirty little slut!" you reply.

another smack.

"a dirty little slut for who?" walter chuckles darkly.

"just for you to fuck and nothing else!”

"good girl." he whispers as he holds you close.

he’s close too, you feel it. his noises are louder. his thrusts are reckless and his speed is slowing. and when you push down hard on his cock, walter just has to still.

"i'm close." he mutters weakly.

"already?"

fucker. you KNEW what you had done to him. your work to tease his cock so expertly was to be at blame.

“walter—“

“come for me.”

his sloppy thrusts grow faster as the two of you cry out in desperation and hunger. you embrace each other tightly as you finally let go of yourselves

the pleasure overwhelms you as you succumb to your orgasm. you slump over walter, who, too, chases his own high, eventually riding it out by swirling your hips around his cock, almost as if to tease out the last of his seed.

although breathless, your lips meet for a tired, messy kiss. walter’s tongue delves into your mouth and presses against your own as if it’s the last droplet of water in a desert.

[sun-kissy]

HELLO SAN i loved meant to be in fact i created this acc just to read ur stuff so can we please please have poly wolfstar headcanons with lots of fluff 🥰🥰🥰🥰

i love you ♡ and yes of course you can! also i got so carried away, this was very self-indulgent and fun to write <3

headcanons of poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

tw: tooth-rotting fluff, one mention of sex but if you blink it's gone

personalised nicknames! all of you have different terms of endearment for each other so you don’t get mixed up (remus calls you dove/sweetheart, and sirius calls you love/pretty girl <3)

sirius is always in the middle when the three of you are walking together, holding both yours and remus’ hands

sirius loves laying his head in your lap, letting you comb your fingers through his hair and make small braids in it

he goes crazy when you braid flowers into his hair, peppering kisses all over your face and relishing in the victory of you blushing

he bombards yours and remus’ faces with kisses all the time anyway, he doesn’t need an excuse for it

whenever there’s parties, sirius does both of your makeup for you. you can’t stop giggling as he does your eyeliner, he’ll tsk irritatedly and kiss you to shut you up. and remus keeps grumbling about how tedious the process is but sirius will tell him how pretty he looks and he’ll immediately zip his mouth

sirius loves to be pampered, especially after quidditch matches. he’ll lay on the bed while you rub curling cream into his hair and remus massages between his shoulder blades. the moans that escape his mouth from remus’ massaging are borderline sinful, and he claims that he would “trade sex for this any day”

speaking of quidditch matches. when gryffindor wins, everyone’s crowding around sirius and congratulating him, but he doesn’t care. he runs straight up to the stands and into yours’ and remus’ arms

both you and sirius lean against remus when cuddling, who has long arms to wrap around your waists, the tall wanker

remus chides the both of you for not doing assignments (he still does it for you anyway, pretending to hate doing it. but he loves how grateful you both are after he does)

he is a stupid stupid flirt who bends down to look into yours and sirius’ eyes when he talks to you. it makes your heart beat like crazy

sirius and you are always stealing remus’ grandpa sweaters because they’re just so comfy. he’d be like “where’s my-“ and then he’d see one of you wearing it and roll his eyes affectionately

remus is all for pressing kisses into yours and sirius’ hair 

and you like to give them each a kiss on their nose, which makes remus turn red and sirius gush over how freaking adorable you are

after full moons, you clean remus up and press gentle kisses to his scars while sirius kisses his tears away. it’s a painful yet heavenly experience, it hurts and it heals

when you have period cramps, sirius massages your stomach and presses kisses to your hairline, while remus makes you hot chocolate and envelopes you in his warmth

sirius cries all day when he gets a letter from home. and the two of you are right by him the whole time, squeezing his hands, whispering reassurances into his ear,  and wrapping him up in blankets and warm hugs

remus reads to the two of you every night till you fall asleep, hands interlaced and legs entangled. he’ll smile and press a kiss to each of your foreheads before falling asleep himself

cuddles every morning, smothering one other in tight hugs and kisses filled with bad breath and love. it’s especially nice when it rains; it storms outside, but you’re all cosy in your safe haven

you’re in their dorm room so much it might as well be yours. and it’s always lively with music from sirius’ record player

the three of you hold hands and jam out to the music, all awkward movements and tripping up, but it’s so much fun

all of you go for picnics together, or just sit under a tree near the black lake. remus will read his book, you’ll lay in his lap and make flower crowns, and sirius rests his head on your stomach while he paints his nails. remus will occasionally bend down to press a kiss to sirius’ knuckles or between your eyebrows

hugs hugs hugs so many group hugs and being squeezed until you feel all the sadness seep out, and you wish you could stay there forever with sirius’ arms holding you close and remus’ chin on the top of your head. it feels like home

[aclowntiny]

Things Stray Kids Do That Make Your Heart Flutter

My true Stray Kids debut! Been wanting to do this for a while 😁

Bang Chan

♡ Walks with an arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer if anything or anybody passes by you

♡ Texts you to make sure you arrive and get home safe every night you go out late

♡ Lets you know he’s proud to he yours, whether it’s with the notes he leaves around for you to find or with his words as he holds you tight

♡ Holds onto the ends of your sleeves for you when you put on your jacket so they don't roll up uncomfortably

♡ Smiles into almost every kiss you share

Lee Know

♡ Takes your coat off slowly and purposefully, eyes never leaving yours

♡ Smirks whenever his arms begin winding around you

♡ Pulls you deeper into kisses with a gentle tug to your bottom lip

♡ Reminds you just how oh so irresistible you are, whether it’s when he caves to your request or as his tongue is swiping to your lips

♡ Presses kisses to the backs of your hands

Changbin

♡ Shamelessly checks you out, then blushes and waves at you when you catch him

♡ Tells you with a proud smirk that he’s bored, let’s kiss

♡ Nips lightly at your earlobes to see how you react

♡ His hands fall onto you whenever he bursts out laughing, as if to draw you into the mirth

♡ Cups your cheeks and tells you sweet nothings in a cutesy voice before pulling your lips into his

Hyunjin

♡ Has a whole page in his sketchbook dedicated to you and adds to it sometimes when he can’t help but capture your beauty

♡ Makes eye contact across the room as he’s running a hand through his hair

♡ Absentmindedly traces patterns on your back as you sit together

♡ Squeezes your hand when your fingers interlace

♡ Tells you he could get lost staring at the stars in your eyes

Han

♡ Puts his guitar pick in his mouth, eyebrows raising in surprise at your gaze upon him

♡ Plays with the rings you wear when you’re holding hands

♡ Nuzzles into your neck when you pull him close

♡ Calls you every variation of gorgeous he can think of, often as a whisper between repeated kisses

♡ Remembers all your favorite things so he can surprise you by pulling them out when you least expect it

Felix

♡ Tugs your hand into his lap like it’s his precious treasure

♡ Surprises you with a batch of brownies he tells you he made just for you

♡ You tell him you like his necklace and as soon as the words are leaving your lips he’s unclasping it, asking if you'd like to try it on

♡ Zips you into his coat to keep you warm, giggling as you walk in unison

♡ Covers your cheeks with kisses before moving down to your lips

Seungmin

♡ Playfully cups your cheeks

♡ Pulls blankets up tightly around your shoulders when you lay down

♡ Reminds you when you’re stressed out that you can tell him anything you know, he wants to be your safe place

♡ Slides a teasing hand up the back of your shirt whenever he’s been out in the cold, chuckling at your reaction

♡ Fixes your hair for you whenever he can, running a hand gently through the strands of it to move it back into place

I.N

♡ Tells you every single time he sees you that you look so pretty

♡ The biggest smile spreads across his face and his arms open wide whenever he sees you unexpectedly

♡ Comes up with creative excuses to get you to wear his clothes, ranging from the temperature to seeing how that color would look on you

♡ Pecks your lips a few times for good measure before leaning into a more passionate kiss

♡ Holds both of your hands in his, gently running his thumbs over the backs of them as he looks at you

[trustmypoison]

Ah! Love

Yoon Jeonghan isn't told 'no' often - or ever, really. So, when his friends set him up to get turned down, his ego is shattered. But his friends didn't realize they just introduced him to his new partner in crime.

Pairing: Jeonghan x female reader Genres: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fake dating, college au, idiots to lovers

Word count: 50k

TW/CW: MDNI! Contains smut with no protection mentioned (be safe please!!), under-aged drinking, alcoholism, implications of abuse and neglect (but no specific descriptions), food, mental health struggles.

A/N: The way these characters are written in no way indicates reality as this is entirely a work of fiction. This whole thing was just one big coping mechanism for recent events... please enjoy!!!

Recommended playlist: Ah! Love by Seventeen; Can't Get You by Jaehyun; Bonnie & Clyde by Yuqi

(pssst... this has a little one shot called I saw this and thought of you.)

Act One

It’s nearly 1am when Y/N parks her car. She should have been home a while ago, but thanks to someone calling in, she was asked to work a few extra hours today. Not like it was hard, but there’s only so much to do at the reference desk at the campus library on a Friday night. The semester hasn’t even started yet, but the stupid university policy said that the library had to be staffed 24/7 except for holidays.

She was just thankful that one of her coworkers had the good sense to hide a phone charger in the bottom of a desk drawer. It had come in handy tonight when she’d finished her book. The university library had a less than impressive fiction collection to pick from. 

But now, Y/N was irritated again because her designated parking spot at her apartment complex was taken. In fact, every single spot was taken. Someone must have been hosting a party to celebrate before the start of the semester. This complex was mostly occupied by students, but damn, didn’t they know how to read signs, such as RESERVED? So she was parked on the street half a block away.

Y/N yanked the key out of the ignition and had her hand on the door handle when a loud laugh made her jump back. A group of guys were walking down the sidewalk towards her and they’d clearly been drinking. Not interested in facing them (whether out of self-preservation or to spare them her mood), she sat back in her seat, biting her nail and waiting patiently (read: Not Patiently At All). They seemed to be taking their sweet time. As they walk under street lights, she thinks she might recognize one or two of them from campus over the years, but that doesn’t mean much. The university has a huge student body.

One of them stops, a muffled, “Hold on,” coming through the car window. He steps towards the front passenger side of her car. His hands go to his pants. He’s - 

He’s peeing on her car. 

Her jaw drops. A car passes by and in the headlights she can see who it is. She unfortunately knows him - or knows of him, anyway. It’s Yoon Jeonghan. 

Her jaw is now tight, gritting teeth together painfully. Before she can think, her hand is on the center of the steering wheel, pressing sharply. The horn blasts for a split second and the only thing that makes this situation any better is the panic that flashes across his face. He jumps back, zipping himself up, waving and shouting a quick “Sorry!” Then he’s off, practically sprinting. His friends follow, but between the drinks and the laughter, they’re sluggish.

Y/N waits until they’re around the corner before she gets out of her car.

The next morning, Y/N finds Vernon at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal. He doesn’t look up from the game on his phone when she walks in and goes straight for the coffee. “Didn’t hear you come in last night.”

Y/N grunted as she slid into a seat across from him. He pushed her a bowl and spoon, along with a box of sugary cereal. “Yeah, I didn’t get back until 1. Had to park on the street.” Vernon hums, but she’s not sure he’s really listening or cares. “By the way, do you know if the complex has a water hose or something near the parking lot?”

Now he’s listening, though he still doesn’t look up. His eyebrows are scrunched. “Water hose? I don’t know. Why? Why not go through a car wash? There’s one around the corner.”

“I don’t need a whole car wash for my piece of shit car. Just enough to wash the urine off of my tire.”

Vernon bites back a laugh. “Someone pissed on your car?” He’s obviously amused. 

“Yoon Jeonghan did.”

Now his laughter resembles the squeak of a windshield wiper. This was nothing new - Vernon finding Y/N’s bad luck hilarious. Normally, she’d let it go because he had a laugh that made her laugh. She did not find it funny right now. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mumbled, stuffing some cereal in her mouth to bite back any further comments.

Vernon wiped his eyes. “How do you even know it was him?”

“Because I was in the car when it happened.” Another bite of cereal for Y/N and another wheeze from Vernon. For the rest of the morning, Vernon would glance at her before falling into another fit of laughter. Y/N opted to escape by going back to bed. 

Jeonghan joins his friends in the student union at lunch on Monday. Classes started this morning but he’s not stressing it so far. After all, he’s only had one class and it’s already 1pm. Tomorrow might be another story based on his class schedule, but he’ll worry about that… tomorrow.

Across from him, Mingyu is talking about the girl he hooked up with on Friday night. Jeonghan’s not really listening because he’s too busy scarfing down his third slice of pizza. 

Seungcheol tells the story of his hookup on Saturday night. It becomes a competition between Seungcheol and Mingyu and they keep glancing at Jeonghan as he stuffs his face with more pizza, challenging him to jump in. He usually would, but he’s not terribly interested today.

Besides, they all know he didn’t go home after the party on Friday. He walked with them back to campus and ended up in the dorm room of one of the many girls he kept in rotation. All it took was one text and five minutes later she was signing him in at the front desk of her dorm as a guest. He signed himself out at the front desk afterwards because it was clear she wasn’t up to moving anytime soon. Between that and how satisfied she looked, he was pretty happy with the night as he walked back home. He doesn’t feel the need to brag anymore. His reputation precedes him. 

When it becomes apparent that Jeonghan isn’t taking the bait, they turn on Joshua. “How’s your girlfriend?” The word ‘girlfriend’ comes out as more of a sneer when Mingyu says it. Out of the whole group, Joshua seems to be the only one that believes in the concept, or at least puts it to any genuine practice.

Joshua met her while shadowing at the hospital a few years ago when he was still trying to pick a major. His crush was massive and they all teased him relentlessly about it. But after seeing how lovesick their friend was, they actually encouraged him to ask her out. They knew Joshua wasn’t a huge fan of anything casual. He’d rarely hooked up before meeting his current girlfriend anyway. Jeonghan is happy for him, he really is, but he’s still very perplexed at the dopey smile that overtakes his friend’s face at the mere mention of her. 

“She’s good. We volunteered at the animal shelter on Saturday and then went out to dinner.” He says this with such an innocent grin that some scoff or roll their eyes. Jeonghan just smiles and shakes his head. They should know by now that Joshua is just that kind of person. Even if he wasn’t, all this girl would have to do is ask because he’s totally wrapped around her finger. Again, very perplexing. Jeonghan couldn’t imagine what that was like.

Jihoon is not one of those people that scoffs at Joshua though. He shakes his head disappointedly at the others and then looks at Joshua directly. “They’re just jealous. They wouldn’t know how to even get into a relationship, much less hold one down as long as you have.”

Joshua seems totally unfazed with his stupid smile, but Seungcheol barks out a laugh. “It can’t be that hard. Mingyu and I both have had long-term things.” He pointedly ignores Jihoon's correction - a not-so-subtle mumble of ‘situationship’ disguised under a cough. Dating was a very loose term for them, never that serious and really just for a predictable amount of sex in the end. When they got their fill, it was over at the snap of a finger. “Besides, it’s Jeonghan that couldn’t do it at all.”

Jeonghan chuckles, “What makes you think that?”

The silence is deafening for only a moment before his friends start giggling. Mingyu bangs his fist on the table. Seungcheol is shaking his head in disbelief. Jihoon is sliding down in his chair and covering his face. Even Joshua is smiling like he’s trying to contain a laugh. 

Which is not a good time for Chan, the poor unsuspecting freshman that they’ve taken under their wing, to slide into a seat at the table. He looks like he’s afraid to ask. When he makes eye contact with Jeonghan, he’s really afraid to ask. 

Jeonghan scoffs. “I don’t know what’s so funny. I could date anytime I want. I just don’t want to,” he yells near the end to be heard over his friends.

Seungcheol’s still shaking his head, but this time it has a purpose. “No, I’m sorry, man. I haven’t seen you so much as go on a single date since high school. Everybody knows your pattern. You sweet talk some poor girl at a party to get her home and then as soon as it’s over, you say ‘This was nice, but I’m not interested in anything more’.” 

The words sting because it’s accurate, right down to the phrasing Jeonghan usually uses. Seungcheol must have heard some of these awkward morning-after conversations before at their apartment. Jeonghan is used to Seungcheol cheering him on in his pursuits. It felt like a skill then, one that he was very good at. A little locker room talk is normal, right? It’s another thing entirely for his best friend of nearly 15 years to turn it all around and say he can’t do the opposite. That his skills are a hindrance to it. That he’s just not capable of it.

Joshua must have sensed his friend’s discomfort because he tries to smooth it over. “Han, all he’s trying to say is that you’ve never even expressed interest in pursuing someone seriously and you shoot down anyone that approaches you for more than sex. When you do want to date, there might be a bit of a learning curve. That’s all.”

Jeonghan doesn’t know how to respond because he’s totally floored by the whole situation. Since when did not wanting anything serious become a problem? Jeonghan likes having fun. He likes having something new often. When did they stop understanding that?

The minutes tick by slowly, especially when his friends are still talking about it long after Chan has finished his lunch. They’ve emptied their trays and left the student union and they’re still talking about it. They’re half-way across campus and they’re still talking about it. Details about how shameless he’s been, how brutal he’s been about his rejections, how he’s won so many bets and completed so many dares over the last few years. His record is starting to sound like a bad thing when they were high-fiving him about it a week ago.

Mingyu turns around, walking backwards so he can face Jeonghan with a taunting smile. “I can’t believe you think you can do it.”

“I can,” Jeonghan says, now completely bitter because it doesn’t come off as confidently as he would have liked. It’s not like him to accept that he can’t do something. He likes pushing limits. He likes to toe the line. Mingyu’s face right now makes him want to jump clean across the line just to prove him wrong. The words spill out. “I can prove it.” 

This gets all of his friends attention. Seungcheol’s smirk is so fucking irritating when he says, “And how are you going to do that?” 

Jeonghan’s jaw clenches. He’s burned a lot of bridges as he’s formed this reputation. There are a lot of women that hate him - have yelled at him, slapped him, bad mouthed him, or just plain sobbed in front of him. Besides the last one, that was usually pretty amusing. There are also a lot of men that hate him too, likely because he’s ghosted their friend or sister. That’s a little less amusing when he has to dodge a fight. He’s not a coward when it comes to a fight, but he feels like there’s nothing to defend because he’s done nothing wrong. He’s never promised anyone a date and it’s not his fault when someone assumes that he will. But now he’s very determined to prove that he can do anything he wants with anyone at anytime because they’ll happily let him. That includes dating. “Pick anyone. I’ll make it happen.”

His friends raise their eyebrows as they look at him. They’ve now stopped in the quad and stepped off the path into the grass. Jeonghan grows impatient with their stares. He waves his hand around the quad. “Pick.” 

Mingyu and Seungcheol are the only ones that start looking around with any sort of seriousness. They must find something that makes them happy because they look at each other and smirk. When they turn to Jeonghan, their expressions make his stomach turn, but he’s determined not to show it. 

Mingyu points across the quad to a figure. Their target is a girl he’s seen in some of his English classes before but her name escapes him. All he knows is that she’s is a major bookworm, usually having stacks of books on her desk that aren’t even for a class. The only reason he’s noticed it is because he’s heard others laugh and whisper about it - which he found ironic because they were all English majors. You shouldn't pick that major if you hate to read. A errant frisbee flies within five feet of her and she doesn’t flinch. He’s never talked to her. 

“Let’s start by getting her to agree to go out with you first.” Mingyu’s clearly enjoying this and Jeonghan’s fists clench in his pockets to resist hitting him. 

“And what do I get out of this?” It won’t be a girlfriend, at least not in anyway that matters. He does want something besides his pride back though.

“$100 if you can get her to agree to go on a date with you. Another $100 if you can get her to agree to be your girlfriend. Another $100 if you can make that last three months.” Seungcheol states the terms, looking rather smug about it. He expects Jeonghan to back down. The whole concept of dating is absolutely not his style and $300 doesn’t seem worth the trouble. Seungcheol’s probably giving a lowball offer on purpose. But Jeonghan is desperate to retain some pride and composure. 

Jeonghan’s feet are moving before he even realizes it. He slaps Seungcheol on the shoulder for good measure as he passes. 

Y/N is quite literally a page away from finishing her chapter when a shadow casts over her. She glances up and suppresses a groan. “Can I sit here?” She slides over to the edge of the bench and tries to refocus on her book and remain unaffected. However, her mind has alarm bells are going off.

Why the fuck is Yoon Jeonghan sitting next to her?

She prayed he didn’t recognize her from Friday night. She did not want to have that conversation - or any really - with him. But she could not think of a single other reason why he would be here right now. 

“You look familiar. Have we had classes together before?” 

She glances up, if only for a brief moment to make her answer convincing. “Maybe.” She knows she’s had classes with him. He doesn’t need the ego boost by knowing she’s paid any attention to him though. He gets enough of that from everyone else.

He sticks out his hand. “I’m Jeonghan. I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself in any of those classes before.”

Y/N stares for a second, internally cursing the manners that are ingrained in her. She’s going to have to shake his hand, if only to remain polite for now. She mutters her name, reaching out to his hand. His hand dwarves hers, long fingers wrapping around her hand, but his touch is soft and warm. It surprises her only momentarily before she’s remembering all the reasons why she wants to avoid him. She’s relieved to have her book clutched in both hands again to ground her. She will not be falling for his charms today, or ever.

“I’ll get straight to the point, since I interrupted you. Would you like to go on a date with me?” He says gently, but there’s the usual amount of arrogance in his expression. Like he knows what she’s going to say. Y/N bets he usually gets the answer he wants. Y/N presses her lips together, feeling uncomfortable for so many reasons.

“Oh. That’s nice of you, but no thank you.”

Jeonghan blinks a few times, then his eyebrows furrow. “Uh. What?”

Y/N closes her book and stares at him. Why now? They’ve shared classes for three years now. Their schedules have aligned an irritating number of times and he’s never so much as glanced her way. Not that she would have ever fallen for this, even as a naive freshman three years ago. “I said, no thank you. I’m not interested.”

“Not interested?” He says this slowly, like the words don't make sense to him. Maybe they don’t. Word on campus is that he doesn’t hear them often. Or perhaps ever from the expression on his face. But there’s a first for everything, right? This must be one for him. “Can I ask why?”

There’s a loud cackle across the quad and it gets both of their attentions. It’s the guys that were with Jeonghan on Friday night. They seem to be enjoying whatever show Jeonghan is putting on for them. 

Ah, okay. That tracks. Y/N scoffs, standing to put her book in her bag. “Do I need a reason? Besides, I’m sure there are many others that will fall for the dare or bet that they’ve put you up to.”

Jeonghan kind of looks like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing a few times. He’s glancing fast between her and his friends. “What? That’s not…” 

“Sure seems that way,” she cuts off, trying to keep her voice even, but it’s challenging. “And you’d have to make me a pretty damn good offer to agree. You should tell them to be more subtle if you really want to use this tactic on some poor unsuspecting victim.” Y/N isn’t sure why she isn’t walking away right now.

Jeonghan is standing now, but he looks totally out of his element, none of his normal confidence and arrogance present. It actually makes her want to smirk, but even she feels a little bad about how loudly his friends are laughing across the quad. Second-hand embarrassment is a very real thing and she was starting to experience it. “Have I done something to you?” It sounds a little defensive.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him. “It says something if you have to ask that, Jeonghan. But no, you have not. I’m really just not interested. I have to get to class. Have a good day.”

She passes by the group of guys and doesn’t make eye contact. Kim Mingyu is there and this really does seem just like the kind of thing he’d be involved in. She almost feels sorry for Jeonghan again, but then she remembers the arrogant smirk he usually wears and the way he was confused by the word ‘no’. Almost sorry, but not quite. He could stand to be taken down a peg every now and then and Y/N was happy to be the one to do it today.

Jeonghan didn’t wait around to find out just how funny his friends found whatever the fuck just happened. Getting turned down was something he wasn’t used to and his friends’ laughter across the quad just rubbed salt in the wound. He’d also pointedly ignored the group chat for the rest of the day. Even Joshua was being iced out. When Joshua sent Jeonghan a message apologizing outside of the group chat, Jeonghan just gave it a thumbs up and nothing else. 

However, by the afternoon he realized he needed to save some face. Y/N may have said no, but many others would say yes. And despite his shock, he had heard what she said back in the quad. His friends would be a detriment to whatever plan he tried because they couldn’t hide their amusement. He sent a single text when he got home and a girl arrived at the apartment he and Seungcheol shared a little after 8pm. When he let her in, he passed by all of his friends in the living room, drinking beer and playing video games. Perfect. Uninvolved in the plan, but present for the show.

He’d picked this girl because she’s loud in bed and seemingly not embarrassed about it. After sex though, he realized that she’s just loud all the time. He decides he can’t ask her to go on a date, much less hang out with her for three months as her boyfriend. He wasn’t sure what she was talking about as he pulled on some clothes, but he interrupted her to tell her he had an 8am class the next day and he’d see her out. She took the hint and began getting dressed. There was no 8am, but he wanted whatever this was to end promptly. He also wouldn’t be reaching out to her again.

He was still icing his friends out but Jeonghan was satisfied with the expressions on their faces as he went back to his room after seeing the chatterbox out. They could make comments about his dating habits, or lack thereof, but they couldn’t say he didn’t know what he was doing in every other way. They’d had to listen to the evidence of it. 

That eased his mind until the next day. At lunch, they made it clear they hadn’t forgotten about his rejection the day before. He was thankful that all except for Joshua had a class soon after so his suffering wasn’t prolonged like yesterday. As soon as the others were far enough away, Joshua frowned at Jeonghan. “I’m sorry. I told them to let it go, but you know how they are.”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Jeonghan mumbled, unable to meet his friend’s eyes. He stuffed his hands in his pockets uncomfortably as they start walking. 

“For what it's worth, they set you up anyway.” 

Now, that got Jeonghan’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“She’s friends with Mingyu’s roommate, Wonwoo. They knew she’d shut you down.” 

Oh. Now it was making sense. He remembers how smug Seungcheol and Mingyu had looked when they’d spotted Y/N. Jeonghan had met Wonwoo many times over the years. Mingyu and Wonwoo shared a lot of classes and seemed to get along as roommates, but Wonwoo was never very interested in joining them when they went out. They’d stopped extending the invitation after a while. Mingyu said his roommate would rather be home reading or playing video games anyway.

“Are they close? Y/N and Wonwoo?” Jeonghan wasn’t totally sure why he was asking. Maybe he wanted to know who she would say yes to, if not him. He’d like to think he checks a lot of boxes for women, but… she must be a unique case. Maybe if he knew who she would date, it would make him feel better. 

“Seem to be. Mingyu said they’ve known each other for a long time, since they were little I think. Y/N’s apartment is apparently where Wonwoo goes when Mingyu brings guests over.” Guests, meaning girls - Joshua was just too polite to say it. Jeonghan had a similar system with Seungcheol when he wasn’t trying to prove a point. Basic roommate etiquette and all that.

“Don’t sweat it too much, okay? It’s a single rejection. I don’t condone the bets or dares, you know that, but I know I can’t stop you guys there. There are plenty of other girls on campus if you’re really serious about this. Just be careful.” With that, Joshua turned towards his class and walked away. Jeonghan was almost late because of how distracted he was. 

He had to let go of this if only for his sanity. Joshua was right - it was a single rejection. The only one in his entire high school and college careers. It was a blip on the radar. A small infraction on an otherwise perfect record. It wasn’t like he’d have to see her anyway. He’d only had a few classes with her and even if he did have to see her he’d just avoid her until he wasn’t feeling so wounded by the whole thing. No big deal. He can breathe easier with that realization. 

Whatever high Jeonghan had been riding since Tuesday comes crashing down at approximately 4:30pm on Thursday afternoon. He was almost late to his Tales of Villainy literature class. Though he was on a pre-law track, he was technically an English major and had to fulfill a certain number of literature credit hours to graduate in the spring. Of all the options offered this semester, this one seemed like the most tolerable. 

Oh, right. Except that the first person he lays eyes on when he walks into the classroom is none other than Y/N. And the only seat left open is the one directly behind her. He bites back a curse and almost leaves. He’s considering just dropping the class and figuring it out later, but the instructor is already looking at him from the podium, waiting to start. Jeonghan silently sits down in the seat behind her. He knows he can’t drop because he’s on a tight schedule to graduate. If Y/N noticed him, she doesn’t show it. 

He does his best to focus on what the instructor is saying. What tests and essays there will be. What works they’ll be reading and when. What kind of participation he wants to see in class. Jeonghan prays that all of this is in the syllabus he blankly glances at occasionally because he’s taking very little of it in right now. 

The truth is he feels like a fucking teenager, because he can’t stop glancing at the girl in front of him. He’s noticing things that he’d normally not notice or give much thought to when it comes to girls. Usually, he’s looking at their bodies and how much skin he can see, or how they’re looking at him. Specific features have never mattered much or held his attention because it all feels the same in the end.

So it’s totally unfair that he’s transfixed by her. The way her hair falls in her face when she leans down to write something with a stupid purple glitter pen. Or the doodling she’s doing in the margins, which mostly consists of a bunch of little suns and moons. Or the smell of her perfume which is some kind of blend of lavender and vanilla. He’s not even admiring her body as much as he normally would, but that’s really nice too. He noticed that earlier in the week when he’d approached her.

He wants her in a way that he hasn’t wanted anyone before but his ego is still in recovery and he can’t risk asking her again. Why wasn’t she into him? Was he losing his touch? It occurs to him that maybe he’s bordering on obsession like this only because she turned him down. Because she seems unattainable. That’s something he’s never really experienced before, but Jeonghan’s been known to like a challenge. It feels kind of like a fatal flaw right now.

He has to get here earlier next week to secure a seat away from her, not only to save his grade but to save his sanity and ego. Fuck the rule that you sit in the seat you picked on the first day for the entire semester. He’d fight someone for it to avoid this kind of spiral weekly. He needed to put a lot of distance between Y/N and himself ASAP.

After three agonizing hours, when the instructor lets them go, Jeonghan is the first one out of his seat, not even bothering to stop to stuff the syllabus that’s wrinkled in his grasp into his backpack.  

He thinks about bailing on his plans with his friends to call someone over because he needs some sort of validation right now that he hasn’t lost his touch, but thinks better of it. He’s afraid his friends will see right though the facade. They don’t need to know his ego his hurt this badly that he’s driven to hook up with so many people in a week to get over one rejection. 

He’d get his validation tomorrow night. Maybe more than once with the way his system was on overdrive. At least then he wouldn’t have to seek it out. They’d come to him.

Y/N thinks that if she has to hear this song again she’s going to scream. She’s in her ensuite bathroom with the door closed and she can hear CL’s Hello Bitches start for the 23rd time. Yes, she’s been counting. She loves CL, but this is becoming excessive. 

She can also hear who is in tune and who is most certainly not. She’s just about to get her eyeliner right this time when there’s a screech in the other room. Not the type of sound you expect to hear when you know there are six grown men in there. 

Swinging the door open, she’s met with the sight of Seungkwan pinning Junhui down by his neck. Soonyoung is scolding them (which is ironic because he’s usually at the center of these things) but the other three are totally unfazed. Vernon and Minghao are scrolling on their phones and Wonwoo looks like he’s napping (or trying to anyway). “Guys, are there any other songs on this ‘playlist’ of yours?” 

Seungkwan pulls away from Junhui, whose glad for the opportunity to escape. Seungkwan turns his wrath to Y/N. “What do you have against this one?”

“It’s one song, Kwan. It shouldn’t count as a playlist,” Y/N deadpanned.

Seungkwan glares. “Yeah, well, your eyeliner sucks.” 

“Thanks to Junhui’s screeching,” Y/N sasses, while Junhui scoffs, putting a hand to his chest in offense. They all ignore him and his dramatics. 

Minghao’s off the bed in moments though, taking the eyeliner pen from Y/N and pushing her back into the bathroom. “Let me fix it so we can leave. I can’t stand them or this song anymore and I need a drink.” Minghao’s subsequent glare silences the laugh that’s bubbling up Y/N’s throat. Like the artist he is, Minghao’s efficient with lots of mediums, including eyeliner apparently, and they’re dragging her out of the apartment in less than five minutes. 

This is not their normal Friday night. They usually end up at one of the restaurants down the street until it closes and then they move to Vernon and Y/N’s apartment to crash. Sometimes there’s alcohol, but there’s always more food (despite having their fill at the restaurant), and almost always some form of games. 

So it was to everyone’s surprise when Wonwoo announced that his roommate, Mingyu, had insisted they come to a party tonight. Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and Junhui were in immediately. The rest took some convincing and Wonwoo was certainly not going to do it. He left that to his friends that couldn’t wait to get drunk on someone else’s alcohol. 

The walk was short and the house was already packed when they arrived. They squeezed through the crowd to the kitchen to get drinks and then went their separate ways. It was likely that they’d all end up back at her apartment anyway, so Y/N wasn’t worried. She runs into Minseo in the kitchen and strikes up a conversation. They were roommates in the dorms until Y/N moved into her own apartment with Vernon and Minseo moved into the sorority house. They were unlikely friends back then and even remained friendly when they ran into each other on campus now. 

Minseo was talking about being a big for her sorority this year, something she’d been looking forward to. However, Minseo was cut off by an “Oh shit!” Something splashed onto Y/N’s shoes. She hadn’t looked down but Minseo had. Y/N did not like how her former roommate’s face was twisted in disgust right now. Y/N glanced down.

Yep, that’s puke. 

“I am so sorry!” Y/N was convinced that any and all gods hated her, because she recognized that voice. She looked up to find Yoon Jeonghan in front of her with wide, panicked eyes. He was clutching another guy by his sides, seemingly holding him up. “He’s a freshman, he doesn’t know how to handle his alcohol quite yet.” 

“It’s fine,” Y/N forced out, trying not to look down at her converse again. She’d most certainly gag if she did.

The freshman wavered on his feet but this time he made it to the trash can behind Minseo. Jeonghan was no longer clutching the freshman, but now ringing his hands, so uncharacteristic from his usually overwhelming confidence. “Let me wash your shoes for you. My friend lives here, he won’t mind.” 

“No, no. That’s not necessary.” With a grimace, Y/N dropped her drink into the trash can when the freshman came up for air. She tried not to look at Jeonghan and instead looked at Minseo. “I’m going to head home.” 

“At least let me walk you home. It’s late,” Jeonghan cut in, face pinched with anxiety. 

Y/N waved her hand as she stepped back. “No, that’s not necessary either. It’s not far.” The freshman had his head in the trashcan again. “I think he needs you more right now, anyway.”

She didn’t wait for an answer and quickly exited the house. As she walked, she pulled out her phone and sent a message to the group chat that she was leaving. They all had her location so they’d know when she made it home if they were worried.

The August air was stagnant and humid, making the smell on her shoes so much worse. She grimaced again. This was why she didn’t go to these types of things. Minseo and a few of the guys regularly tried to get her out of the house, but this was just not her vibe. Tonight was just more evidence of that. She had terrible luck with these things.

A rhythmic sound was getting louder behind her. For a moment, she prayed that Yoon Jeonghan hadn’t followed her to walk her home like he’d been insisting. She was beyond relieved when she heard a more welcomed voice. “Hey, what happened?” Wonwoo asked as he slowed next to her. He must have caught a whiff of what had happened because he did a quick scan of her before landing on her shoes and muttering, “Ew. Dude, that’s gross.”

“I know,” she scoffed. “Go back to the party. Mingyu wanted you there.” 

Wonwoo began walking with her, ignoring her command. He shrugged, “I showed up and spoke to him. That’s more than he usually gets. What happened to you though? You didn’t answer.”

“Some freshman that couldn’t handle his alcohol apparently. That’s the shortest visit we’ve ever made to a party and that’s saying something.” Wonwoo laughed at Y/N’s words and thankfully it diffused some of her tension. 

“Yeah, a whopping twenty minutes.” 

Wonwoo was the brave one when it came time to deal with Y/N’s shoes upon arriving to the apartment. She slid them off along with her socks at the door and Wonwoo carefully picked them up by the least gross parts. Never mind that he sprinted for the washing machine with a scream. He said it was so he wouldn’t breath in and smell it. Y/N thought that was pretty valid.

When the others arrived at the apartment a few hours later, they found Y/N and Wonwoo on opposite sides of the couch, one reading and one playing video games. They joined in seamlessly, grabbing snacks from the kitchen to sober up. She appreciated that they didn’t ask why she left early. The last thing she wanted to talk about was anything in reference to Yoon Jeonghan. 

It’s been nearly a week and Jeonghan is still not talking to Chan. He pretends like he doesn’t hear him when he talks. He’s getting really good at it. 

At first it confused Chan, particularly when there was no one else in the room with them in Jihoon’s trashed kitchen on Saturday morning. It goes on so long that a hung over Chan starts to wonder if he’s invisible. Can that happen? He’s never drank this much before. He’s starting to worry about weird genetic mutations or that maybe he’s a ghost now. However, Seungcheol greets him when he enters the kitchen. So that settles it. Not invisible. Jeonghan’s just mad.

It takes the entirety of Saturday and Sunday, and the first half of Monday before Joshua finally steps in to counsel them and try to solve the issue at hand. All of them have a soft spot for Chan and don’t like seeing him so dejected. It turns out Chan remembers very little of the party so he doesn’t even know what to apologize for, though he keeps offering blanket apologies. So, Jeonghan tells the story in excruciating detail. Mingyu is downright elated by it. Seungcheol and Jihoon try to bite back their laughs and turn away. Chan is completely mortified and says he’s swearing off drinking for good. Joshua can’t fix this, he’s decided, but he feels a lot of sympathy for Chan. After all, they were all once freshman and did some stupid things. So he tries to fix it anyway.  

He fails. 

Then food magically starts appearing in front of Jeonghan randomly. First it’s a burger and fries that Chan treats him to on Monday night when they all go out. Then it’s coffee and a muffin on Tuesday morning. When they go out for beers on Wednesday, Chan buys everything Jeonghan drinks, but Chan doesn’t partake even though this college bar is known to overlook a little underaged drinking now and then. Thursday, Jeonghan finally puts a stop to it because Chan must be spending a small fortune for a college student on this apology. He accepts the coffee Chan hands him and says, “Okay, enough.”

Chan’s eyes are hopeful and Jeonghan hates how much he loves the kid. He really does seem to feel bad. “I’m forgiven?”

Jeonghan nods. “Yes. Please pace yourself next time though.” 

“Of course,” Chan nods eagerly. “I do not want to feel like that again. Have you talked to her since?”

The question catches Jeonghan off guard. He’s relieved it’s just him and Chan today. He really wants his friends to forget about her entirely because every time she comes up it’s kind of like they’re twisting the knife. “Uh, no. I’m trying not to see or talk to her, which might become a bit of a challenge at 4:30 today. I have a class with her.”

“Oh,” Chan deflates. “Maybe I should apologize? I know you said you did, but… maybe it wasn’t well-received.”

“Yeah, because she had puke on her shoes,” Jeonghan half scoffs, half laughs.

“Sure…” Chan looks like he wants to say something more and Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “That has something to do with it, I’m sure… But… Okay, I’m not telling you this to bother you about it. I know you’d wish we’d drop it. But the others are really enjoying how much she seems to not like you. Something about karma.” Chan gives a shrug because he isn’t sure what else to do. 

“Karma about what?” Jeonghan bit, anger rising. If feels like all of this has been so far out of his control that it’s not fair. What has he done to deserve this?

Chan wouldn’t make eye contact with Jeonghan. “You know I’m new, so I don’t know specifics. But something about how you deserve to be shut down every now and then. That your body count borders on too much.”

Jeonghan can’t help but scoff. “Literally all of them except for Joshua have a high body count. They’re not totally innocent either. Besides, the whole concept of body count is stupid.”

“Yeah, it’s been pointed out,” Chan said cryptically. “Anyway, I’ll apologize if you think it will help. Just let me know.”

Jeonghan debates on whether to stick to his plan of avoidance throughout the rest of the day. When he arrives to his lit class, he makes the impulsive decision to sit behind Y/N again. He cares more than he’d like to admit that she seems to hate him. It’s one thing if he deserves it - if he’s done something to her, then he thinks he could accept this and move on like he has many times with many other girls. But he hasn’t really done anything to her besides ask her out and it’s starting to eat him alive, especially when he thinks about how she said no before she realized he’d been dared to do it. And the party on Friday was just a comedy of errors. Maybe there was a little irony in the fact that, out of all the people at that party, it was her shoes that Chan threw up on. 

She’s reading when he slides into the seat behind her. When she’s finished a chapter, he taps her on the shoulder. She closes the book around her fingers, turning in her seat. Her expression, like it was in their last two interactions, doesn't give much away except that she’d already like the conversation to be over already. It pains Jeonghan to see because it’s not the reception that he usually gets.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry about Friday.”

Y/N blinks. He hates how big and pretty her eyes are, even when she’s definitely not happy to see him. “You said that already. I told you it’s fine.” Her voice is totally flat and he really wishes he could read her mind. Maybe then he could find a way to fix this. They don’t have to be friends by any means, but something other than her total disinterest would be nice. 

“I know, I just -“ He doesn’t know where to go with this. He swallows roughly. He’s expecting her to turn away, but she doesn’t, placing the book in her lap now. There’s something patient in her expression that confuses him, but he’ll take advantage of it. “It’s occurred to me that I haven’t left the best impression, not just once, but twice now.”

She laughs, but there’s something humorless about it and it makes his lips turn down a little more. “More than twice, but I’d have to agree with that.”

He’s not sure what he’s done before this semester, doesn’t remember a single interaction with her before all this. “I’d like us to forget it if we can. Start over, if you will.” He’s not sure why he’s saying this or why it’s so important to him. He’s never cared much about his interactions with women outside of before, during, and after sex. It’s clear that none of that is going to happen here.

She seems to be thinking and it feels like she can see right through him. He squirms in his seat, not used to feeling so exposed. Usually, he’s the one reading people, not the other way around. And he can’t read her - not when he asked her out, not at the party, and not now. Finally, she smiles but there’s kind of an evil look in her eyes. “I’ll think about it. I’m still mad that you pissed on my car.” 

Jeonghan’s jaw drops, breath catching in his throat, but he can’t get a word in because the instructor has swept into the room and Y/N is already turning around in her seat. He drops his head in his hands and suppresses a groan. This class is the longest three hours of his life. 

It’s nearly dark when class ends. Jeonghan stuffs his things in his bag quickly, but his movements are hurried and messy and Y/N is already walking out of the classroom. He calls her name as he exits the building. He kind of expects her to ignore him, but she stops, halfway turning to glance at him. She kind of looks smug and he doesn’t know how to take it. He halts next to her. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea it was your car.” 

Y/N looks away and starts walking again and Jeonghan is trailing behind her now. “Do you have a habit of doing that when you go out drinking?” 

The question is conversational, casual even. Jeonghan feels awkward and kind of wishes she’d just yell at him. “Uh, no. It’s not a habit of mine.” He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or not when she looks mildly amused.

“You seem nervous.” Another casual statement.

Jeonghan stuffs his hands in the pocket of his jeans and he watches in real-time as she clocks the defensive pose. Yeah, she’s definitely amused. He’s noticed she’s incredibly perceptive. He feels like an open book to her. “I’m not used to making this much of a fool out of myself. I’m usually much smoother than this.” He admits it because she probably knows it already anyway. 

“Oh, I know. Your reputation is well-known around here. Quite the heartbreaker.” She says it so evenly that it somehow hurts worse than the anger that he gets from other women. It’s like it’s a fact. Jeonghan guesses it is and it makes him deflate. 

“Is… that why you said no?” The question leaves a very bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he fucking cares. It’s just one girl, why is she worming her way into his brain like this, making him feel so insecure?

There’s curiosity in her eyes when she glances up at him. “Perhaps. It didn’t help that you’d obviously been put up to it.”

Jeonghan huffs. “Yeah, that probably looked bad, didn’t it?” He’d been so stressed about getting his lick back lately that he’d kind of forgotten how fast she’d put all the puzzle pieces together. 

“Oh, yeah,” she laughed, but this time it wasn’t so humorless. He’s so surprised that she’s not mad because she has every right to be. He doesn’t know what to say. “This is my stop,” she said, pointing to the library behind her. “Look, I don’t know what all that was about, and I don’t really want to know. But consider that maybe your friends are just dicks if they’re putting you up to something like that. Even you might deserve better friends, Yoon Jeonghan.” 

She wishes him goodnight with a wave and his frown is so deep that even Seungcheol notices when he arrives home. Jeonghan brushes it off, almost feeling bad when Seungcheol presses again later that night, asking if everything is okay. Jeonghan remembers what Joshua and Chan said about the whole thing being a set up and how much they were enjoying it. Hell, it had even occurred to him that her presence at the party was a set up too, now that he knew Mingyu’s roommate was one of her friends. It would be so easy to invite Wonwoo and tell him to bring his friends as a courtesy.

No, he wouldn’t be talking to any of them about Y/N anytime soon. The sooner they all forget about this whole thing, the better.

The weeks start to fly by as the semester gets underway officially. Jeonghan is taking more than a full load of classes because he plans to do an internship next semester that will take up most of his time. This is something that he begrudgingly planned for last semester, but is really thankful for now. There’s a predictable pattern to his life. Class, homework, hang out with friends, go to parties on Friday and Saturday night and maybe take someone home. He’s not even doing that last part as often as he once did. He keeps thinking about his friends’ words at the beginning of the semester and when he does hook up with someone he’s left feeling less than satisfied. He's never realized how empty the whole thing is, but now that he does he can’t unsee it.

The only other deviation from this plan is the occasional conversation with Y/N in their shared lit class. 

No, he hasn’t moved seats. No, he doesn’t plan to anytime soon. No, he doesn’t want to talk about it. 

That’s what he tells Joshua after his friend spots Jeonghan and Y/N leaving their class together. They've taken to idly chatting as he walks with her to the library on his way to his own destination. He’s thankful it was Joshua that saw it and that his friend was willing to let it go. Joshua also must have kept it to himself because none of his other friends said anything. They’d seemingly forgotten about Y/N. 

Which was perfect because he doesn’t want to talk about how many times he’s been embarrassing himself in front of her. 

In September, his printer crapped out and the ancient professor that he was writing a paper for insisted on paper copies, even though the school offered a perfectly good online submission option. So Jeonghan found himself at the library late on Thursday night. Yes, he knew Y/N was working because he’d walked her there earlier that night. No, he didn’t want to talk about it. He especially didn’t want to talk about how he broke the printer and had to approach Y/N to admit it. If he hadn’t have needed that paper printed for first thing in the morning, he would have ran for it and come back another time. Y/N assured him that this particular printer was always on the fritz and offered to print it for him at the reference desk, but there was something sly in her expression when she handed him a stack of warm papers neatly stapled together. It’s like she knew he was taking a hit to his pride by having to ask her of all people, despite the positive interactions that they had sometimes. 

In mid-October, he found out she actually lived in the same apartment building as him. He found that out because he had been dared to wear his halloween costume (Spiderman to be exact) to check the mail. No good reason, just because. He usually had no shame, so what’s the worst that could happen? He found out the worst is seeing Y/N coming down the hallway. He ducked into the elevator as soon as it opened and repeatedly pressed the Close Door button, hoping to avoid the whole thing. However, Y/N not only saw him, but how aggressively he was pressing the button as she slid into the elevator. He realized he wasn’t wearing his mask and she was biting back a smirk. “Don’t…” he muttered, his eyes closed tight. She stayed silent throughout the whole interaction, letting him retain what little pride he had left. He’s not even sure why he’s so embarrassed because he’s done way more ridiculous things in far more public settings just for a laugh. Jeonghan returned to his apartment with none of his usual bravado when he completed a dare. 

In early November, Jeonghan decided he wanted to make ramen at 3am. Writing a paper had worked up an appetite. He’d made ramen a thousand times in his college career. What he hadn’t done before is set off the fire alarm in the apartment complex. As he stood in the parking lot watching the fire department sweep the building, he heard Y/N grumbling to her roommate how annoying this was because she had an 8am class. If he’d had his keys, he would have gone to hide in his car. Or maybe leave. 

Yeah, maybe just leave. Seungcheol could handle the rent, right?

And then there were the times that Y/N of all people had caught him in compromising positions with girls. The first was when an acquaintance of Seungcheol’s that lives in the same building hosted a party. He’s making out with a girl in the hallway. He’s not sure why he didn’t just take her up to his own apartment down the hall, but the thought hadn’t occur to him immediately. He’d just pushed her out of the apartment and against the wall in the hallway and she let him. He’s almost got his hand under this girl’s shirt when he hears something alarmingly similar to Y/N’s voice from the other end of the hallway. It snaps him out of whatever lust-filled haze he was in and she and her friends pass by them in the hallway. He knows she’s seen him and what he was doing - the eye roll gives it away. The girl asks him to take her somewhere more private and he does, but he’s a little distracted for the rest of the night. 

The second time is at the library of all places. He’s been paired with a girl from one of his classes to work on an assignment and they’ve agreed to work in the library. He’d normally suggest working somewhere more private, but he’s not terribly attracted to his project partner. She’s fine, he’s just not that interested. However, the project is painfully dull and when she suggests that they sneak off for a few minutes he agrees automatically. He lets her suck him off in one of the dark corners of the stacks. Despite not being very attracted to her, she’s decent and he enjoys it enough to come. He also doesn’t mind the thrill of a little exhibitionism from time to time. His blood runs cold when they’re walking back to their table and Y/N is in the next aisle over, reshelving some books off a rolling cart. He has no idea how much she’s seen or heard. She doesn’t look at him, but she’s shaking her head. He decides he can’t stick around and makes an excuse that he’s forgotten something and he needs to leave. 

The most recent run-in is at another party, this time at a sorority house. He’s snuck off to the bathroom with one of the sorority girls and he’s got her sitting on the sink. Her hand is in his pants and his fingers are in her panties buried deep inside her when there’s a knock on the door and it opens. None other than Y/N is standing there. He pulls away from the girl quickly, but the girl’s hand is still very much in his pants and he knows Y/N has seen all of it anyway. He starts to apologize so they can let her have the bathroom, but Y/N is already waving him off with another eye roll and closing the door behind her. He makes an excuse to the girl and doesn’t end up taking anyone home that night.

And after all that, luck was especially not on his side when their lit instructor announced that they’d be pairing up with someone for their final presentation. This was both a blessing and a curse. Someone to share the responsibility for the bulk of your grade, but also… someone to let you down on the bulk of your grade. Jeonghan also couldn’t decide if it was a blessing and a curse that the instructor paired him up with Y/N. She didn’t object and he’s too mortified by 90% of the interactions he's ever had with her, so he kept his mouth shut and accepted her invitation to meet, pick a book, and lay out a plan. She was a good student so he could at least bank on a good grade. He’d have to get a grip if he was going to survive this project though.

Yet another thing that he did not want to talk about with his friends. 

It’s Wednesday afternoon in early November when Jeonghan slides into the seat across from Y/N. They’ve agreed to meet in a coffee shop just off campus. When Y/N recommended it, Jeonghan simply shrugged and asked for the time.

“Sorry, I got caught up after class. You haven’t been waiting long, have you?” Jeonghan asked. His face was pinched with the usual concern - usual only because she kept seeing it when he looked at her over the course of this semester. It was very different from the arrogant grin he usually wore, and somewhere deep down (deep, deep, deep down), she was wondering if she’d been too harsh on him or misjudged him. He seemed to wear a mask sometimes and she could see right through it because she liked to wear one too. 

Either that, or he was the greatest actor in the world. Maybe this new face of concern was a facade to get her to let her guard down so he could still win whatever bet his friends had issued. But it didn’t seem like it. He hadn’t broached any topic that indicated he had an ulterior motive since the first day of class. Anyway, even if it was all an act, she kind of liked watching him squirm. 

“Not long. What do you want to drink? I’ll go get it,” Y/N said, prepared to stand up. 

Jeonghan immediately objected. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it in a minute.”

“No, really,” Y/N chuckled. “I know the barista. Just tell me what you want.”

He reluctantly gave his order and she smiled as she left the table, satisfied that he’d folded so quickly. 

Minghao was standing behind the register with an eyebrow raised when she approached the counter. He leaned over the register to whisper to her. “Yoon Jeonghan? What’s that about?” 

“We’re paired for a project. Can I add another drink to my tab?” Y/N gave her sweetest smile. Minghao’s lips pursed like he was unimpressed, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“Your tab is becoming alarmingly long, you know that right? The boss doesn’t even want us to offer tabs to friends.” Nevertheless, he took the drink order and began making it. While he was at it, they were discussing plans for the upcoming weekend. Junhui was performing in a play on Saturday and all of his friends had agreed to show up in support - not that he could keep them away. They hadn’t seen much of Junhui in the past few weeks as he’d been rehearsing nonstop, but everyone was really proud of him. They were planning to cheer and clap so loudly it embarrassed him, give him flowers, and treat him to dinner and drinks afterwards. 

When Y/N put the drink in front of Jeonghan, he looked like he was ready to go with his laptop and a printout of the approved books for the project. She was pleasantly surprised by this since he never seemed to take classes too seriously. Sometimes he didn’t even bother to get out a pen or paper or even open his laptop to take notes. She just hoped he’d open the damn book that they picked out because she had never seen him read a single page with her own eyes.

Still, she was pleasantly surprised again at how involved he was with their selection process. They agreed on The Monk, mostly because they both liked the challenge. Not many people were picking something from the 1700s if they could help it and their selection would show some initiative to their instructor. He’d even agreed to a reading schedule and regular meetings. She tried to remind herself that every time she got caught up in how cute he was when he focused, or how intently he seemed to be listening, that this was the man that pissed on her car in the beginning of the semester. And asked her out on a bet or dare. And whose friend puked on her shoes. And… you get the idea.

Somehow she didn’t feel all that angry about a lot of it anymore. Weird.

That’s why when he began chatting idly about other things outside of the project, she didn’t shut him down. She told him about her plans for Junhui’s play this weekend and he told her he’d been applying to internships for next semester without much luck. She surprised herself by volunteering to review his applications and resume. He looked really cute when he was surprised by the offer and she bit her tongue to keep from further trapping herself. Being friendly with Yoon Jeonghan was something she was still conflicted about.

“Can I ask you something?” Jeonghan asked hesitantly when conversation lapsed. Y/N shrugged. “You said you know the barista?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, his name is Minghao. We’ve been friends since freshman year.”

Jeonghan hummed and something smug filled his expression. “Mhm. So how long have you liked him then?”

Y/N choked on air. “What? What are you talking about?”

Jeonghan laughed, shaking his head. “I saw you bat your pretty eyes and smile for a free drink - thank you by the way. That’s so unlike you. I mean, all I get are blank stares most of the time and I’d like to think I’m quite charming.” 

“It’s not like that,” Y/N insists, but it was weak at best. Her face feels hot.

“There’s nothing wrong if it is like that,” Jeonghan assured. It appeared to be genuine, encouraging even. 

“It’s…” Y/N trailed off, avoiding eye contact as she tried to find the words. Whatever explanation she was trying to conjure up fizzled out when the door to the cafe opened. “Oh god.” She dropped her head into her hands. 

Jeonghan swung to look in the same direction. “Whose that?” He glanced back at her. He’d always thought he might enjoy seeing Y/N in a way that wasn’t so composed after all the times he’d made a fool of himself in front of her. And he did enjoy teasing her about her little crush on the barista. He’d never thought he’d see her blush and it was pretty cute. However, this was different because she looked down right mortified. Not cute. He’s feeling protective all of the sudden for no good reason. “Uh, he’s walking over.” He watches the mask snap back into place so fast that he gets whiplash. She had just looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole, but now her face is totally impassive. 

“Y/N!” The guy is now standing in front of their table, a bright smile on his face. 

The smile Y/N returns is friendly enough but it doesn’t meet her eyes. “Seokmin, how are you? I’m surprised to see you here.” Jeonghan thinks that she really meant something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you doing here’ instead. Seokmin clearly did not know that.

“Oh, you know I couldn’t miss Junhui’s first leading role. I had some time off and decided to come and visit.” Seokmin is still smiling brightly and Jeonghan knows now that he’s not a fan. He’s seen Y/N looked totally unimpressed, primarily at Jeonghan, but this is different. There’s a flash of anxiety on her face that unsettles him. This guy’s done something wrong and he hopes she’ll stick up for herself. He wants a front row seat to it and he doesn’t even know what Seokmin’s done.

Y/N’s smile is tight. “That’s great. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled you made the trip.”

Maybe Seokmin is finally picking up on the tension because the thousand-watt smile dims a bit. She hadn’t said she was happy to see him, just that Junhui would be. Seokmin turns to Jeonghan, sticking out his hand. “Lee Seokmin.”

Jeonghan turns on the charm, giving his best smile and gripping Seokmin’s hand tight as they shake. “Yoon Jeonghan.” He isn’t sure what Seokmin is thinking when he glances back and forth between Y/N and Jeonghan, but Jeonghan kind of hopes that in some twisted way he thinks they’re together. He’s trying to put out the vibes of a possessive boyfriend, mostly so Seokmin will stop looking at Y/N because it’s clearly making her uncomfortable. She’s shrunk in her seat and crossed her arms, making herself look small.

Seokmin’s about to say something when Minghao comes out of the back and yells his name. Seokmin’s easily distracted and as soon as he’s away from the table, it takes half a second of eye contact before Jeonghan and Y/N are packing up their stuff, making a show of looking at the time and saying they’re late for something.

Once they’re out of the coffee shop and around the corner, Jeonghan pulls her to a halt by the elbow because she’s practically sprinting. “What exactly was that about?” 

He doesn’t ask if she’s okay because her distress is crystal clear. Now that she’s out of the cafe, she looks like she might cry. “It’s kind of a long story.” There’s a choked quality to her voice that tugs at his heart strings. He can’t explain that. He’s seen plenty of women cry, usually because of him, and it’s never really bothered him before. 

“I have time,” Jeonghan shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but he’s floored that she’s not shutting him down and walking away right now. Y/N’s mouth opens and closes a few times before she finally pouts. He doesn’t even think she’s aware she’s doing it but he still suppresses the urge to squish her face because of how cute she looks. He doesn’t think that she’d like for anyone to do that, much less him. “How about this? It’s nearly dinner time. Let’s go get something besides coffee and you can tell me about it.” She looks hesitant, probably remembering the first day of classes, so he tacks on, “No ulterior motives, I promise. You just look like you need to talk to someone about it. I’ll even pay.”

He lets her order her chicken tenders, fries, and milkshake before he starts asking questions, mostly because he’s surprised she’s still sitting across from him and the promise of food on the way might make her stay. The whole walk to the diner near their apartment complex, he had half expected for her to make a run for it. 

“I’m not sure where to start.” There’s a helpless tone to how she admits this and Jeonghan hates it. She’s usually so sure of herself and he already hates Lee Seokmin for the effect he seems to have on her.

“Let’s start with Seokmin.” The waitress delivers their milkshakes and Jeonghan patiently waits while Y/N jabs the straw into her cup and starts twisting and crumbling the straw wrapper. 

“We dated. For a long time actually, since high school. We even picked this school so we could go together because it had both of the programs we were interested in. He’s a theatre major, you know? Well, was. Was a theatre major. Last year, out of the blue he announced that he’d landed a role and he’d be moving right away for it. I hadn’t even known he was auditioning for anything that wasn’t local. He broke up with me because he thought he wouldn’t have time for me and left three days later. Back at the cafe is the first time I’ve seen or spoken to him since.”

Y/N looks so dejected as she grabs Jeonghan’s straw wrapper because hers is totally mangled now. He kind of wishes he’d hit Lee Seokmin rather than shake his hand. “How long were you together?”

“6 years, almost 7.” The pout is back and Jeonghan’s beginning to heat with anger. What a waste that time was for her.

“I’m… sorry. That’s so shitty. I can’t imagine it.”

“Kind of hoped he wouldn’t come back. That maybe he’d be so successful abroad that he’d never need to. Is that wrong of me?” 

Jeonghan scoffed. “Wrong of you to wish him success even though he broke your heart to achieve it? Maybe. Something isn’t right about that.” He’s aware immediately of how hypocritical what he just said is. Earlier this semester he asked her out on a bet, fully intending to date her for three months and then dump her to cash in on the $300 he was promised. He squashed the thought because now wasn’t the time. He needs to get that pout off her lips right now. He kind of hates that the only way he can think of to do it is to bring up Minghao. She was so much lighter when she ordered Jeonghan’s drink from him. “How does Minghao fit into all this?”

The pout lifts a bit. “Minghao was one of the first friends I made in my freshman year here. I took an art class for one of my general education requirements and he was in it. I’m not an artist. But he was kind about it even though he’s a much better artist than me and even helped me fix a lot of my work so I could pass. Last year, when Seokmin left, Minghao was still kind, even though Seokmin was his friend too. He didn’t look at me with pity like a lot of the others did.” Abruptly, she throws down the second mangled straw wrapper, crossing her arms across her chest. “That probably sounds stupid, doesn't it?”

“No!” Y/N’s eyes flare at Jeonghan’s rather passionate answer and Jeonghan tries to backpedal. “I mean… I know I don’t set a great example when it comes to this stuff. God only knows my friends won’t let me live it down. But I can sympathize. You put your heart and soul into someone for nearly 7 years and then he up and leaves at the first sign of a greater opportunity without so much as asking what you want? That would hurt anyone. It’s also totally reasonable to have a soft spot for someone that helped you when you needed it after all that.”

He’s avoided looking at her during his whole speech, but when he does he knows what he’s looking at because he’s already seen it a couple times tonight. She’s biting her lip and her eyes look unusually wet. He’s about to apologize when she says, “You surprise me, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“I do?” Jeonghan asked, confused.

Whatever emotion she was showing clears and she nods firmly. “Yes. Every time I think I have you figured out, it seems I’m wrong. You’re pretty thoughtful when you want to be.”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s not like this with most people, not by a long shot. The waitress brings their food and he’s thankful for the distraction. He’s nearly done with his burger when Y/N speaks again.

“What were they going to pay you if I said yes?” 

Jeonghan is sure he knows exactly what she’s talking about but he prays he’s misunderstanding. He tries to play dumb. “Huh?”

“You said your friends never let you live down your reputation. I saw them that day that you asked me out. What was the prize if I said yes?” 

He stalls out of for a long moment and Y/N waits patiently. “You won’t be mad?” 

“No. It was obvious there was an ulterior motive the moment you approached me. We’ve had classes together for years and you never even glanced at me.” 

He thinks that wasn’t totally true but he doesn't correct her because he doesn’t think it would change anything. She appears to be honest about not being mad so he clears his throat. “One of my friends, Joshua, is in a relationship and very happy. I don’t know how it ended up here, but they all agreed I was basically incapable of dating like that, or at all really. They wouldn’t let it go and it bothered me. I felt like I had something to prove to them.” 

“How much?” This time she was pressing. His throat burned because it occurred to him why Joshua didn’t condone the betting and dares in the first place. Telling her she was worth $300 and some bragging rights to him made him feel ashamed now, especially with how she’d just opened up to him. But he answered her anyway. To her credit, she barely blinks. “And you picked me?”

“They did.” Jeonghan feels like he’s swallowing acid. He wonders if she thinks he finds her unattractive or that he never would have picked her if it had been up to him. That bothers him for reasons unknown.

“So they set you up then.” Jeonghan must have looked surprised because Y/N continues. “Mingyu knows I don’t like his habits. It runs Wonwoo out of his apartment constantly and hurts a lot of feelings. Because of your reputation, and your association with Mingyu, they had to know what I would say.”

Jeonghan’s positively dejected now. He slumps in his seat, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I guess so.” He looks out of the window to avoid her eyes because she’s doing that thing again where she looks right through him and he feels too raw now.

“It really does bother you, doesn't it? You don’t think you could do it if it was with the right person?”

“Maybe not,” Jeonghan mumbles bitterly. “I haven’t even gone a date since I was a sophomore in high school and my fucking mom drove me to it.” His laugh is so hollow as he wipes his hands down his face in frustration. He doesn’t know why he’s admitting this. He expects to see pity in her face but her expression is not completely impassive or unkind. “Sounds kind of pathetic, really, especially admitting it to someone like you, whose been in a very long relationship. I know how to hook up but I know next to nothing about dating.”

He can’t look at her and he kind of expects her to leave. Kind of wishes she would so he could go crawl in a hole in peace. “Jeonghan.” He looks up reluctantly and is terribly confused when she’s smirking and her eyes look a little chaotic. “Ask me again.”

Jeonghan’s brain shuts off like someone’s pulled the power cord to it. All thoughts flicker out. “What?” It comes out more like a hiss. 

But she’s still blinking her pretty eyes at him and now she’s nodding encouragingly. “We can prove them wrong, easy. Ask me again.”

He shakes his head, hoping it’ll help him make sense of this. “You want to help me win a bet by pretending to date me.” 

She shrugs. “Sure. I have a little experience, so I can help make it convincing.” 

He knows she’s trying to make a joke about Seokmin, but he feels like he might pass out. “Why would you do that? What do you get out of it? And what about Minghao? Seokmin? What about my horrible reputation?”

“I care very little about your reputation actually,” she says firmly. “We’d have to establish some ground rules anyway if you want some image rehabilitation out of this. Seokmin is a non-issue because I don’t want anything to do with him anymore, and I’m positive that things with Minghao won’t be going anywhere. Besides, I kind of hate Mingyu. I’d like to make him eat his words.”

After a beat, Jeonghan barks a short laugh in disbelief. “You’re insane.” It’s not an insult because he’s beginning to smile. 

Y/N sticks her hand out to him across the table, a satisfied smirk across her face. He likes the mischief in her eyes. It’s actually a huge turn on. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Now he’s wearing a huge grin. His hand encapsulates hers and they shake. “I’m Jeonghan. Nice to meet you. Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Act Two 

Jeonghan was in charge of the first step of this plan. He needed to tell his friends that he had a date. He kind of wanted to straight up brag about it. Yes, they’d teased him mercilessly about Y/N’s initial rejection, but look who finally came around. He knows the bragging would be effective. It would make every competitive bone in Seungcheol and Mingyu’s body ache. He can imagine that they’d all try to start dating too just to prove a point. They can’t be shown up by Jeonghan. 

But Jeonghan is surprised when Y/N pitches another idea and it’s absolutely devious. She suggests being so casual that it makes them feel guilty. Now, he hadn’t expected her to have such a manipulative streak, and he’s still more confused at this vendetta she seems to have against his friends, Mingyu in particular. But the more he thinks about it, the more satisfying he thinks her recommendation will be. He’s also incredibly turned on by the way she’s willing to play these mind games. She’s undoubtedly the best person to pull this stunt with.

After their shared night class on Thursday, Jeonghan slid into the booth at the bar. He runs a little late on purpose. He’s not sure if Chan remembers, but he’s already let it slip that he has a class with Y/N on Thursdays. It would be nice if he remembers that after Jeonghan’s announcement and puts two and two together, but it’s not necessary for the successor this step.

His friends were a few drinks deep already and discussing some baseball game that was on TV when he arrives. Jeonghan has a couple beers himself before the right opportunity finally presented itself. “You guys going to the Kappa party tomorrow night?” 

The others agree to Seungcheol’s question automatically. Jeonghan glances at his roommate casually before looking back at the TV. He casually sips his beer. “I’ll pass.”

“What?! You never miss it. What’s better than a Kappa party?” Seungcheol laughs like Jeonghan is totally unserious. 

Casual. No big deal, just like Y/N recommended. “I have a date. Maybe next time.”

Jeonghan’s words are intentionally flat and he enjoys the silence in the booth, knowing it’s the calm before the storm. You can hear a pin drop in their little corner booth, which is crazy because it’s Thirsty Thursday in a campus bar. 

“I’m sorry? Can you say that again?” Jihoon speaks, confusion obvious. 

Jeonghan finally meets his friends eyes. He suppresses the satisfaction at their shock, pulling his best Y/N impression to keep his face blank. “I have a date.”

“With who?!” Mingyu cries.

“When did this happen? I didn’t even know you were interested in anyone.” Seungcheol looked seriously offended.

Jeonghan and Y/N had agreed that this would be the best part. It would look like not even she was impervious to his charms, he’d just needed some extra time for her to warm up to him. He glanced back at the TV again. “Y/N. I asked her out earlier this week.” 

Man, were they right. A glass clattered to the table. A gasp. Finally, a loud, “How in the fuck,” from Mingyu. 

“Y/N, the girl that brutally shot you down earlier this semester? Wonwoo’s friend?” Seungcheol clarified. 

Jeonghan did everything to keep his face passive and relaxed. Like he was long over it. “Brutal is a strong word. She was actually pretty polite about it.” That part was true. She’d said ‘no thank you’ when she could have said ‘no way in hell’.

“Then how did we get here? Did you bribe her or something?” Mingyu accused. “That would definitely go against the bet.”

Ah, another thing they had anticipated. After some discussion, they both agreed Jeonghan wouldn’t need to bring up the bet. His friends would do it for him in one way or another. After even more consideration, they’d also agreed that the bet didn’t matter. Jeonghan didn’t want the money, primarily because it would involve Y/N and he’d come to respect her too much over the semester. Even if he did take it, Y/N refused to accept any of it for her role. Plus, Jeonghan rejecting the bet would send a clear message.

“We have a class together and we got to know each other some. And no, I didn’t bribe her. I don’t give a fuck about the bet,” Jeonghan says evenly. 

Across from him in the booth, Mingyu and Seungcheol look at each other before frowning. They hadn’t expected this and Jeonghan had been banking on that. It felt so satisfying and he already couldn’t wait to tell Y/N how well this was going. 

Jihoon claps him on the shoulder. “That’s nice, man. I hope it goes well. You’ll have to tell us about it later.” He seems to mean it too.

Chan looks relieved. “So I don’t need to apologize for puking on her shoes?” 

Jeonghan barks a laugh. He loves this kid. “No, her shoes cleaned up okay.”

Joshua is grinning. “I knew it’d work out. What are you doing for your date?” 

Jeonghan isn’t sure how to take that first part but he doesn’t have much time to think about it because Joshua, Jihoon, and Chan are peppering him with questions. He feels stupidly happy when he answers them, losing the cool, unaffected exterior that he had before. They’ve never been so encouraging. Seungcheol and Mingyu are the ones that are usually cheering him on. But this is different isn’t it? His two friends across from him stay quiet for the rest of the night. It seems like they don’t know what to say. 

His two friends are so quiet that it isn’t until Jeonghan is getting ready for his ‘date’ on Friday that one of them approaches him. He’s brushing his teeth when Seungcheol leans against the doorframe of his bathroom. “So, you’re really doing this, huh?” 

Jeonghan likes to think he’s getting good at being casual about this topic because it’s all most of his friends have talked about since he made the announcement last night. He spits in the sink, focusing on running his toothbrush under the water. “Seems that way, yeah.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a while and Jeonghan wonders if he might drop it. He’s not so lucky. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His roommate sounds hurt.

“I did. Last night.” Jeonghan tries to keep the chill out of his voice when he answers it because he’s remembering how satisfied Seungcheol looked back in August across the quad. 

“I mean - we’re friends, right? We have been for years. We live together for fuck’s sake. I didn’t even know you had a class with her, much less that you’d been talking to her or really liked her.”

He can tell Seungcheol is getting frustrated and Jeonghan is losing his patience for it. Seungcheol should feel bad and Jeonghan wants to make sure he does. “I didn’t know you’d want to know, especially if I wasn’t getting turned down.”

It has the affect that he’s hoping for. Seungcheol reels back a bit. “It’s not like that and you know it. Of course I’d be happy for you if you really liked someone. You just… haven’t.”

“I do now.” Jeonghan is even surprised by how fast the words come out. “Want to make fun of me the way you guys do with Joshua now? It seems you and Mingyu will have something to say either way.”

It’s like he’s watching in real time as Seungcheol realizes he might have been a dick. But this has just started. He and Y/N have a three month agreement once it’s reasonable to announce that they’re official and Jeonghan plans to make the most of it while Y/N is on board. Seungcheol is just the start.

“You know we don’t mean it. It’s not that serious,” Seungcheol might even be pleading now but Jeonghan feels his anger boiling over as he pushes past Seungcheol to get back to his bedroom.

“Have you asked Joshua if he thinks it’s not serious? You ever wonder why he doesn’t bring his girlfriend around when she goes to the same fucking school?” Jeonghan bites, opening his closet, yanking out clothes that he’d already planned to wear. His movements are jerky as he dresses. 

“He always says she’s busy.” It sounds like Seungcheol is trying to convince himself of it. That really has been Joshua’s excuse, but Jeonghan remembers how Joshua avoided talking about her for so long, afraid of how everyone would react. They’ve only met her a handful of times in three years. He half considers taking a page out of Joshua’s book when it comes to Y/N, but it would defeat the purpose of their plan. This needs to be rubbed in their faces. Not tonight, but soon. 

“I gotta go, I’ll see you later,” Jeonghan shoves his keys, wallet, and phone in his pockets and walks past Seungcheol, ignoring the ‘seriously, man’ that’s mumbled.

Y/N can tell Jeonghan is in a mood when they meet in the lobby of their apartment complex. She lets him have his moment as they get into his car and drive to the river front. He seems to relax some when they park and she asks what kind of street food he’s thinking of getting. It’s chilly but they find a bench on the river’s edge to eat their food. “So how’d your announcement go?” 

“Good, I guess,” Jeonghan grunts. 

“Be more convincing,” Y/N insists lightly. He gives her a look out of the corner of his eyes before he scoffs. But she’s relieved when he does lighten up a bit. 

“It was good until I was talking to Seungcheol earlier. He was offended that I never mentioned it.” One thing that keeps surprising Y/N is how open Jeonghan is about his thoughts and feelings. She doesn’t want to discourage it. She knows what it’s like to feel like you can’t go to your friends with this sort of stuff.

Y/N hums. “Seems about right. How’d that go?”

“Bad. We don’t fight often - I mean only a handful of times over nearly 15 years. He didn’t like that I was right though. He didn’t want to know about it if he couldn’t give me a hard time about it.”

“I’m proud of you.” Jeonghan’s head snaps to look at her as she continues. “You should absolutely tell him he’s being a dick. Mingyu next, please. Imagine how satisfying that will be.” After a beat, she adopts a thoughtful expression. “Maybe we need to take a more subtle route to avoid fighting with them, though. I’m not out to ruin friendships here. I just want to deliver some karma and a little guilt-tripping.”

“How’s this going to work anyway? Jeonghan asks. He's already said he doesn’t want to make assumptions about what she’s comfortable with in this little scheme of theirs and that her approval on the process is important to him. 

She hears him chuckle when she pulls out a notebook and a pen from her bag. “You’re not going to make me sign a contract, are you?” He teases.

She gives him a side eye, but she can’t help but smile. She flips to a certain page. “No, Yoon Jeonghan. How much time are you spending on Wattpad?”

“Just enough,” he jokes. She rolls her eyes.

The plan is pretty simple. 

Phase One - Casually Dating. This is critical, she says, because it lays the groundwork for the rest of the plan. It has to be convincing that it’s going well and they like spending time with each other. She insists that this act doesn’t just extend to his friends or even her friends, though they’re important factors. It extends to all of campus. His absence at parties will be noticed. His prolonged attention on a single person will be noticed. It will make an impact. He needs to jumpstart some image rehabilitation if this will work. People need to be second guessing what they think they know about him.

Phase Two - Officially Dating. Once they both feel that others are sufficiently convinced that something serious could really be going on between them, they hard launch. This includes things like being seen together on campus, posting each other on social media, and attending parties together. She says that this is the natural rhythm of this type of thing and he nods in agreement. Despite the fact that he’s not put any of those things to practice, she knows he’s smart and has seen it all before. When Y/N mentions a little PDA, Jeonghan frowns like he hadn’t considered that it would be necessary. He asks what she has in mind, but Y/N shrugs and says they’ll revisit it if phase one is successful. She’s still debating on what will work in regards to the topic of PDA, given what he’s used tonight other than girls. 

Phase Three - sometime after the three month mark, they quietly break up. Quietly because Jeonghan can’t be the bad guy here if this is going to really benefit him in the long run. Jeonghan says that this part sounds deceptively simple and even asks if there’s more. There’s not so he shrugs. Another thing they’ll revisit if the first two phases are successful.

She really only has one rule. He has to stop all non-platonic interactions with other women until this is over. Even if he’s discreet, people will still talk and it will ruin the new image that they’re trying to create. Jeonghan agrees to this with surprising ease, and Y/N’s shock must show. She was expecting for him to ask to bend this rule on an occasion or two because it’s been implied she won’t be putting out. She has an idea of the frequency of his hook ups because she’s seen and heard things and three months is a long time for someone with his habits. He simply says, “Just trust me. I promise not to make you look bad.” He even pinky promises on it.

When they’ve agreed on the general details, Jeonghan takes the pen and signs the bottom of her notes with a smile. “There, it’s official now.”

She scoffs, snapping the notebook shut around his hand and taking her pen back. Both items go back into her bag. She’s smiling too though. “Come on. I want hot chocolate.”

“Are you paying?” He chides, standing to walk with her. 

“No. You just signed your life away. You didn’t even read the contract.” She jokes and he laughs. He pays anyway without complaint.

Y/N had spent so much time worrying about Jeonghan’s side of this little deal that it didn’t occur to her until she was out with her friends in celebration of Junhui’s excellent performance earlier that night. They both had a part to play in this and she feels kind of silly that she had forgotten that this would impact her too. 

Seokmin had joined them for dinner and Y/N wore her best poker face. He’d been friends with everyone before he left too. She didn’t want to cause anymore of a rift than their breakup had. She also knew many of the guys still kept in contact with Seokmin even if she didn’t and had missed him. Vernon kept her glass full of alcohol. It’s one of the rare times that he wasn’t giving her a hard time about her misfortune (which this entire night certainly classifies as). She thinks he probably just doesn’t want to see her cry tonight. Vernon is totally lost with that sort of thing.

The alcohol wasn’t numbing much though. Everyone else seems to be having a good time and she was beginning to feel left out. In particular, Soonyoung was having a lot of fun downing drinks. His voice was loud and it looked like their waiter might cut him off at any moment. Drunkenly, Soonyoung turns to Seokmin. “Seokmin, Minnie couldn’t come with you? When will we meet her?”

Y/N didn’t miss the looks from the rest of the table because there was nothing subtle about it. Some flashed with concern towards Y/N. Some looked like warnings at Soonyoung, who was oblivious. Seokmin hesitated, eyes flitting to Y/N across the table. “No, she had some things to do. She says she’d like to come next time.”

She felt like she’d been struck by lightning. Minnie. His costar. Maybe his new girlfriend too from the sounds of it. It seemed like all of her friends knew as well and they’d kept it from her. Soonyoung cried out, leaning down to hold is leg. Someone must have landed a kick under the table. Minghao smoothly changed the subject. 

After that, Vernon is very diligent about keeping her glass full. The world moved around her but she stayed quiet. How dare he? How dare he dump her and move on just like that? They’d not even been broken up for a year. How was it so simple for him when her eyes burned at the fact that he was even at the same table? Did nearly 7 years mean nothing? 

Maybe it didn’t. Maybe her friends knew that, which is why they’d kept this a secret. They knew she hadn’t been able to move on so easily. Between the anger and the alcohol she felt like she was on fire. 

Vernon elbows her. She’s missed an entire conversation. “Seokmin is here until Friday. Want to join us for dinner and drinks on Thursday night?” Junhui’s not oblivious, but he’s sure acting like it with the question. Or maybe it’s out of politeness, not wanting her to feel excluded. Either way, her fists clench in her lap because there’s no way to spin this into something positive. 

Out of nowhere, Y/N remembers Jeonghan asking her what she gets out of their scheme. She’d insisted making his friends eat their words was enough. But maybe she could benefit from it more than she thought. 

She remembers when she and Jeonghan planned his announcement to his friends. Be casual, no big deal. She gives her most convincing apologetic smile. “Sorry, I won’t be able to make it. I have a date.” She doesn’t look at Seokmin because his reaction matters very little to her. It’s with great satisfaction that she watches her friends stumble as she changes the subject. 

Y/N hadn’t really thought about the impact her announcement would have because it was so spur of the moment, unlike how Jeonghan’s was meticulously planned. But she was learning what that impact was. Her friends were tiptoeing around her, around the topic. It seemed like no one was brave enough to say anything yet. That is, until they sent Minghao. 

As was her usual routine, Y/N often studies at the coffee shop during Minghao’s shift. It’s three in the afternoon now, which means it’s dead. The morning rush is long over and the night class rush (if you could even call it that) won’t start for another hour or so. Minghao slides into the chair across from her and Y/N glances up to give him a small smile. He doesn’t return it. He looks a bit nervous, which is very unlike him. 

“What?” Y/N asks, though she thinks she knows where this is going. It’s been days since the conversation during dinner. It’s clear one or all of them can’t take the mystery anymore. 

Minghao looks like he’s steeling himself. Finally he says, “So, a date, huh?” She shrugs. “When did that happen?”

“I’ve actually already been on one, on Friday. We’re going out again.” 

She watches Minghao’s eyes flare in surprise. “Oh? So it went well then?” He seems neutral about the news.

“Yeah, it was good.” The answer was genuine. If you’d told her earlier in the semester that she’d enjoy Yoon Jeonghan’s company, she wouldn’t have believed it. Despite the fact that it could barely be called a date, what with the scheming and all, she did have a good time. 

“Do I know him?” 

Y/N shrugs again. “I suppose. It’s Yoon Jeonghan.” 

A flash of concern crosses Minghao’s face. “Yoon Jeonghan. Are we thinking of the same one?” When Y/N just raises an eyebrow because there’s only one Yoon Jeonghan around here, he tacks on, “The one that was here with you last week?” 

“Yes.” 

Minghao face palms. “Oh, honey. Why would you do that?” 

He sounds so exasperated and scolding that it pisses her off right away. “Do what? Go out with someone whose interested in me?”

Minghao’s stammering now. He didn’t expect her to fight back. She’s been the quiet one of the group from day one, letting the rest of her friends run the show. With Seokmin, she’d always been so agreeable, even to a fault. And when Seokmin had left, she took all of her friends’ advice without argument, trusting that she would feel better if she did. She’d always assumed they were looking out for her, but she was thinking she’d misinterpreted some of their intentions now. 

“I don’t mean it like that, Y/N. I just mean… we all know how hard Seokmin leaving was on you. There’s no need to rush moving on. Least of all with someone like Yoon Jeonghan.”

She doesn’t like how he says Jeonghan’s name like he’s the devil incarnate but she can’t deal with that right now. “No need to rush moving on like Seokmin did? Tell me, how quickly did he start dating someone else after he ended a years-long relationship?” She snaps and Minghao doesn’t have an answer. “Every single one of you knew and you didn’t tell me. You let me sit across from him at dinner and find out the hard way.”

“We were trying to protect you from it. You’d been doing so much better. We didn’t want to ruin the progress,” Minghao says weakly. 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about the progress being ruined. I’m very over Seokmin, but I’m deeply offended that you guys kept this from me. It did absolutely no good to protect me from it right up until he was right in front of me for the first time in a year.”

Minghao opens his mouth to say something but a customer comes in. He has no choice but get up and make their order. Y/N packs up her things and leaves while he’s busy because she’s not interested in continuing this conversation. 

Thursday night after class, Y/N finds herself across from Jeonghan in what he’s dubbed their regular booth at the diner. It’s the same one they sat at when they initially hatched this whole plan initially. When she’d texted him earlier in the week asking for a ‘date’ on Thursday, she was relieved when he immediately agreed. This ‘date’ has a dual purpose. They needed to meet anyway for their project and they also needed to discuss the next steps in their scheme. Her conversation with Minghao had sparked something in her. 

They get the boring stuff out of the way first - combining their notes for what they’ve read so far, discussing themes and motifs, and choices in characterization, plus where they think the ending will go. Not only has he actually done the reading they agreed on, but he’s far more intelligent than he lets on and Y/N finds the conversation just as stimulating as the scheming. 

Speaking of, when their plates are empty, laptops are closed, and Y/N’s notebook and pen come out, Jeonghan smiles. She’s taken more notes. However, she doesn’t tell him how it’s going to be right away. “How do you want to proceed?”

The question stumps him and Y/N smiles when his face falls into confusion. “Didn’t you come up with a plan already?”

“A loose one. There’s a lot of flexibility because this needs to come naturally to both of us if it’s going to be convincing. The question now is, when can we move on to phase two?”

Jeonghan’s thinking, and it probably mirrors a lot of her own thoughts. Since their agreement, Jeonghan had made a point to meet her regularly on campus - meeting her for coffee or lunch, walking her to class, even carrying her bag once or twice. It had gotten looks, which was the entire goal. 

She also knew that her friends had seen some of this too. She wasn’t sure if Minghao had told them who she was seeing, or if they’d seen it for themselves, but it was clear that they knew now. She smiled and confirmed their assumptions when asked, but they were careful not to voice their opinions. They seemed to sense that they were in trouble. 

What she didn’t know was how things were going with his friends. She knew they’d also seen Jeonghan and Y/N together on campus, and knew that a lot of those times he’d been bailing on them to see her. “Are things convincing to your friends so far?”

Jeonghan nodded slowly. “I think so. It’s helping that I’ve turned down parties. Jihoon called me a changed man the other day.” There’s a lightness about him when he says this. Like it’s the biggest compliment anyone could give him. 

“Do you miss it? The partying, I mean?” Not that she told him, but some of his bad habits were the biggest risk to their whole plot. She’s relieved when he shrugs. 

“Not really. Might be nice from time to time but it was kind of always a means to an end.” 

He doesn’t have to spell it out for her. He won’t go to parties if he’s not taking someone home. He looks a little embarrassed about this admission after he says it but she appreciates his honesty. 

“That brings me to my next question, actually.” Jeonghan looks nervous but nods for her to continue. “Maybe we should attend one together.”

He’s frowning now. “You don’t like parties.”

“I don’t like getting puked on.” She’s teasing, but he must know that because he rolls his eyes. “What I’m getting at is, a total 180 of your habits could be suspicious. Plus it’s a good opportunity to be seen together. We show up, have a few drinks, chat, look cute together, and then we leave if you want.”

“Define ‘look cute together’.” He looks genuinely confused.

“Which brings me to my next point. How are you with PDA?” She watched Jeonghan’s eyebrows raise and then he busies himself looking elsewhere. 

“I usually do enough to get someone to go upstairs or go home with me.” 

She nods, closing her eyes with a tinge of exasperation. “That’s not the kind of PDA I’m talking about.” 

“Oh.”

She flips the notebook to a fresh page, tapping the pen a few times. “I mean, innocent touches. Things that will make it apparent that we’re together but doesn’t necessarily mean you’re taking me straight to bed when we leave. Though I guess people thinking that wouldn’t hurt much, especially later on.”

Across the table, Jeonghan tries to think of literally anything else but the implication of her words. He’d made a concerted effort not to think about her that way this whole time, not just in this scheme but throughout the whole semester. He would not be able to get through this if he was thinking about her in his bed. He’d surely fuck it up if sex became involved. She seems oblivious to his struggles. He clears his throat. “I don’t know. What would you normally do?”

Y/N is surprised and her poker face slips a bit. He couldn’t be that inexperienced to all of this, could he? He’s starting to fidget, a nervous tick that he has. Maybe she’s wrong. There’s more of a learning curve than she thought. 

“Hand holding. Little touches, like if we’re standing next to each other you put your hand on my back or waist. Or if we’re sitting next to each other you put your hand on my thigh. Kissing probably wouldn’t be a bad touch either, to whatever extent you’re comfortable with it. The critical part is that we need to look interested in one another and no one else over a significant period of time.”

She’s writing notes as she says this, so she misses how Jeonghan’s eyes are glazing over. He knows couples touch and kiss, he’s not an idiot. And he’s definitely not inexperienced with the mechanics of it all. But he feels like he’s 14 again at the concept. He hasn’t said anything yet and she interrupts his panic. “Are you okay with that? Would you add anything? Are there things you don’t want to do?”

“Uh, no, I’m good. But, you’re sure you’re okay with all that?” 

He’s getting her signature blinks. “Jeonghan, I wouldn’t mention it if I wasn’t okay with it. Besides, there’s no script to this part. Just do what feels natural.” He’s doesn’t know how to respond and it makes her frown. She puts the pen down and sighs. “Maybe we go a different route with this. It doesn’t have to be public. Maybe you don’t want to be seen with me.”

Jeonghan’s eyes go wide, hands planting on the table. “Whoa, where did that come from? What makes you say that?”

Y/N chews on her lip. She’s usually a straight shooter, but she hesitates to admit this because of how insecure she might sound. However, this won’t work if they’re keeping secrets. “I don’t quite fit the type of girl you go after. You looked uncomfortable at the idea of being near me or touching me. It’s fine if you don’t find me attractive. I’m really not offended, I promise, but if that’s the case for you, then maybe we scrap this whole plan or find someone else to help you with it.”

“You think I don’t find you attractive?” Jeonghan is deadpanned now because he can’t imagine pulling this off with anyone else. Y/N shrugs, feeling exposed now that she’s said all of that. Jeonghan gives a stiff shake of his head. “You’re insane.” He’s said this before but this time it’s not a compliment. “I’m only going to say this once. You’re incredibly hot and pretty and cute, and just about any other kind adjective out there. You’re not the issue here. In fact, I’m already getting questions about how I got you to so much as look at me.”

“That’s because I’m kind of a bitch.” Y/N means it as a joke but Jeonghan certainly isn’t taking it that way. He looks more serious than she’s ever seen him. 

“No, you’re not,” he says firmly, leaving no room for debate. “You have boundaries and you know what you want. That’s something about you that I can’t get enough of.”

Things move in slow motion for her as Jeonghan reaches across the table to grab her notebook and pen. He scribbles out the question mark she’d put next to Kissing and then signs his name at the bottom. “I’ll pick you up at 9 on Saturday night. There’s a Phi and Zeta party.” He flags down the waitress for an order of fries. It’s clear that this is final. 

Minseo busts into Y/N’s room at approximately noon on Saturday, two coffees in hand. Y/N is relieved to see her, though she almost didn’t call her. But Minseo had picked up on the second ring and it took very little explaining before Y/N could hear her former roommate scrambling around her room, promising to be there ASAP. 

Y/N wasn’t good with girls. Not good at having conversations with them, not good at maintaining friendships with them. She had very little in common with someone like Minseo, who had done dance and cheer for most of her life, was popular in the sorority circles, and whose favorite color was hot pink. Instead, Y/N had been on the soccer field skinning up her knees or the volleyball court diving for the ball, and when she wasn’t doing one of those, she dressed like a complete tomboy - no skirts or dresses in sight if she could help it. And don’t get her started on the fact that all of her friends had always been boys. Other girls, even her own teammates, had criticized her over the years, saying that she must think she’s better than other girls. They interpreted her reservation (which was rooted in anxiety about fitting in) as her being stuck up. She wasn’t. She didn’t feel that way at all. She wished she could fit in with them desperately but didn’t know how.

Minseo was one of the few girls she’d ever met that didn’t complain about the skateboard being left in the walkway of their dorm, or that Y/N’s closet primarily consisted of denim and black, or that she sometimes wore a bit too much dark eye makeup when she was in the mood. She didn’t even blink at the number of guy friends that were in and out of their shared dorm the entire time they lived together and never even suggested that something else was going on. In return for that acceptance, Y/N had tutored Minseo for many classes to remain eligible for the sorority of her choice and supported Minseo’s 2am baking habit. She had even helped Minseo style dozens of outfits for her many sorority events, back when she was still trying to find her footing within the organization. It was Y/N that needed the fashion help this time. 

“I need you to start from the beginning.” Minseo was practically vibrating as she plopped on her stomach onto the bed, feet kicked into the air with her head propped in her hands. She’s grinning. 

“I have a date.” 

“So you said. With Yoon Jeonghan.” Minseo’s smirk is huge. She’s not surprised that Minseo’s heard it. The whispers have been following her everywhere lately. 

“It’s fake.” The whisper is out before Y/N can stop it. 

Minseo’s jaw drops. “What?!” The screech must have disturbed Vernon’s beauty sleep because he bangs on their joining wall. Minseo and Y/N yell ‘sorry’ in unison, an old habit from their dorm days. 

“Oh my god, Y/N. Start from the beginning. Now,” Minseo hisses.

Y/N does. She’s desperate to tell someone everything, to get it off her chest and feel better. She tells her about turning Jeonghan down in August, the bet, the class they shared and how they kept running into each other, Seokmin, Minghao - everything. It feels good to share the pain of it all. It also feels good to have someone to panic with her. Minseo is screaming into the pillow by the end of it and Vernon’s banging on the wall again. 

“Well, so what now? Fake date Yoon Jeonghan?” Minseo must recognize that this is Top Secret because she’s adopted a whisper too. 

Y/N gives a deceptively casual shrug. “Yeah, that’s the deal. Are you going to help me or not?”

“Hell yeah, but girl, this is so messy of you. Are you sure you’re good?” Minseo looks mildly concerned. 

“I’ll be better if you can help me figure out what to wear, and how to do my hair and make up. I’m trying to make a point here.”

“Clarify the points for me.” Minseo is gentle with the request, but it’s clear she’s not moving from the bed until she has an answer. 

“That I can move on from Seokmin. That I already have, actually. And that Jeonghan’s not quite what his reputation leads people to believe.” 

“You’re sure about that last one? That the bet’s not back on? That he’s not going to continue to sleep around?” Another gentle but serious question. Minseo knows his friends so she knows how Jeonghan is by default. 

Y/N bites her lip. “I think so. Even if the bet’s still on, none of it’s real. And he’s agreed not to sleep around. If he does, this whole thing backfires on him anyway.”

This seems to satisfy Minseo, because she’s suddenly lunging towards the closet. Clothes begin flying out onto the floor behind her. She’s digging to the back of the closet. Y/N expected that but dreads it nonetheless.  A few options are laying out on the bed in moments, things that are a little more revealing or tighter (or both) than she’d usually wear. She’s not sure why she even has some of them because they still have the price tags on them. 

It’s a little unclear what Minseo’s process is, but she’s meticulous about examining an outfit, scanning Y/N, looking back at the outfit, repeat. Finally, Minseo shoves one to her and points to the bathroom in a silent command. Minseo frowns when Y/N comes out and silently hands her another outfit. “What? Is this one bad?” Y/N asks, looking down self-consciously. 

“No babe, you look hot, but you also look terribly uncomfortable. That’s not going to convince anyone.”

It takes a while before Minseo is satisfied with the full look, but at a little before 9pm, Y/N is glad she trusted the process. Minseo ended up scrapping all of the things she initially pulled out with the excuse that they weren’t edgy enough. Y/N fans her face to dry wet eyes and not smudge her makeup when she looks in the full length mirror. Minseo didn’t try to stuff her into a short party dress; she’d let her keep her personal style and comfort, but it’s enhanced her feature in a way that she didn’t know was possible. She owed her former roommate big for this because it makes her feel a little more confident about this whole thing. Like she’s not just playing dress up as Jeonghan’s soon-to-be girlfriend.

The apartment door opens and Y/N knows it’s time. Time for what, she’s not sure, but it feels a little like facing the music. She finds Jeonghan and Vernon at the door. She’s unsure if they’ve ever actually met, but they apparently have now. Both look surprised when they see her, or rather what she’s wearing, but while Jeonghan smiles, Vernon frowns. She hasn’t made this kind of effort to dress up for a guy… ever, really. Not even for Seokmin. 

Y/N tries to convince herself it’s not really for Jeonghan per say, but she does like how he looks at her. It seems innocent and there’s a quiet admiration to it. 

“Ready?” She asked Jeonghan. He holds the door open for her as they leave, while Vernon’s still standing in the entry way awkwardly waving. 

“You look nice,” Jeonghan says when they enter the elevator. 

“Thanks, so do you.” It’s not a lie. He’s usually wearing baggy clothes like sweat pants, hoodies, and oversized shirts. Now it’s jeans, a white T-shirt, and a leather jacket. Within the confines of the elevator, she can smell his cologne. Something woodsy with a hint of citrus. The scent is kind of consuming and she’s eager to get out of the elevator and clear her head. 

Conversation comes easy on their walk across campus. It usually comes easy with them anymore. It’s when they approach the frat house that Y/N begins to hesitate. Jeonghan’s perceptive, leaning close. There’s a crowd of people in the front lawn and he probably doesn’t want to be heard. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We can just walk back home now, or go somewhere else and hang out. Me not showing up at all also makes a point.” 

“That defeats the purpose. Besides, wasn’t I the one convincing you of this the other day?” 

“You were,” Jeonghan nodded. “But you’re allowed to back out at any time. You’re getting very, very little out this.”

“That’s not totally true,” Y/N mumbled. As soon as the words were out, she hoped he hadn’t heard her but he must have. 

“Your mysterious vendetta against Mingyu isn’t worth being uncomfortable here. We can always set up something else less crowded,” Jeonghan insisted. 

“No, I mean…” she stalls. A crowd of drunken frat guys get too close to them on the sidewalk as they rough house. Jeonghan’s hand flies to her waist pulling her away. He doesn’t take his hand back, like maybe he’s trying to comfort her. Or maybe he’s just putting on a show. He’s standing close and she imagines how intimate it must look because she knows how intimate it feels. Whatever it is, it’s disarming because it seems so natural. “Seokmin’s moved on. All my friends knew and didn’t tell me.” 

Jeonghan’s fingers tighten around the curve of her waist ever so slightly and his touch is warm through her jacket. “So… you want to prove you can move on too.” 

It warms her that he gets it just like that, no further explanation needed. “Does that make me a bad person?” Y/N asks, looking around the front lawn next to her. 

“Does it make me a bad person that I want to prove to my friends that I can date by fake dating you?” 

“No,” Y/N’s fly up to Jeonghan’s and he’s looking intently, a hint of amusement. “Your friends are being dicks. They should be more supportive of you and what you want.”

“And your friends should be honest with you about some asshole that up and left you after 7 years. Fuck, they shouldn’t even be friends with him anymore, Y/N. I don’t have to know the details to know he was in the wrong here.” His hand slides around to her back as he steps forward a bit, impassioned. She can feel his warmth against her side now. 

She’d never had anyone so… viciously supportive of her. Not even Wonwoo, arguably her ride or die for as long as she could remember, had said a bad word about Seokmin around her. Not even when she wouldn’t eat or sleep, and cried often. She’d asked over and over what she’d done wrong and none of her friends ever had an answer for her. Now that she thought about it, they also never told her she wasn’t in the wrong at all. Jeonghan’s validation, particularly the intensity of it, is touching. 

Confidence in their plan renewed, she was reaching around to grab his hand off of her back, lacing their fingers together. “Let’s go.” 

Jeonghan didn’t have to be told twice. 

Jeonghan had only told his friends he’d show up tonight, but not that he’d be bringing anyone. The omission was only because he wanted to give Y/N room to back out, and if she had backed out he already planned to back out too. In a way, he kind of liked the idea of keeping a little mystery. But Y/N is right when she says they still need to show off a little bit.

He feels their stares, amongst many others, as he leads Y/N by the hand to the kitchen. It occurs to them that he and Y/N didn’t really have a game plan for this. They’re totally winging it and he’s trying to think fast. 

They both get drinks and wordlessly reconnect their hands together to fight through the crowd. He finds his friends by the pool table, Mingyu and Seungcheol with cues in their hands. They aren’t playing though. They’re staring. Joshua is the first to greet them, but he hardly seems concerned with Jeonghan. He seems so enthusiastic that Y/N is here that it’s a little overwhelming. He immediately introduces himself to Y/N and then introduces the other four one by one. 

“Nice to meet you, but what’s the catch?” Jihoon asks. Though he means it in jest, Jeonghan’s fingers still tense around Y/N’s. He’s afraid he might lose his cool but she squeezes his hand back. 

“No catch,” Y/N answers coolly. “Why would there be?”

Jeonghan suddenly remembers who he’s working with. She’s smiling, but he sees the gleam of mischief in her eyes that he’s becoming familiar with. She’s excited to face off with them. Jeonghan now realizes that she’s going to make them say it. She’s going to make them fess up to what they really think about him and about him dating her. She’s also going to make them regret it. He feels a little giddy at the thought. His hand relaxes in hers and he gives his friends a cool smile now.

“It’s just, Jeonghan doesn’t date. This is weird for all of us,” Seungcheol says with a slight smirk, kind of like he’s expecting to scare her off easily. It’s irritating, but Seungcheol doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. 

She looks up at Jeonghan with an amused expression. “Is this weird for you?” 

Automatically, Jeonghan is shaking his head, a genuine smile on his face. It really isn’t weird, which is the great irony of it all. “Of course not.”

Y/N’s expression is light but there’s a challenge in her eyes when she levels with Seungcheol and shrugs. “You’ll get over it.” Seungcheol’s eyes widen and the smirk drops a bit. Jeonghan can see he didn’t expect her to be so casual and indifferent to his prodding. 

Mingyu laughs but there’s something kind of malicious about it. Jeonghan wonders what’s happened to cause such tension between Y/N and Mingyu because he feels Y/N’s fingers twitch at the sound.  He kind of wonders what she would do if both her hands weren’t full. “Y/N, honey, you know how this goes. We’re just trying to save you from the inevitable. Get out while you can.” 

“Yeah, I do know how these things go with you, Mingyu. I make it a point to not take your advice because of it,” Y/N says evenly, relaxed even.  

Mingyu’s lips purse and he backs down just like that. Jeonghan’s never seen Mingyu cower like this and makes a mental note to ask what kind of dirt she has on Mingyu that makes him finally shut up. It’s Jihoon that breaks whatever tension has been building. He looks at Jeonghan with a grin. “Oh, I like her. We’re keeping her so don’t fuck this up.”

The night goes on and Jeonghan enjoys it more than any party he’s ever been to. It’s something to do with Y/N, no doubt. He liked how Joshua and Jihoon had claimed her as part of the group immediately. He liked how she hugged a drunk Chan and patted his cheek kindly when he almost cried while apologizing for puking on her shoes all those months ago. He also really liked watching her absolutely demolish both Seungcheol and Mingyu at pool. As she sunk the last ball to win against Mingyu, Seungcheol looked at him with crazed eyes. “Where the fuck did you find her?” 

“You guys found her. Remember?” Jeonghan said with a laugh. He enjoyed the sobering affect his words had on Seungcheol. That’s right. He’s not going to let him forget how all this started. This is when Jeonghan realizes he hasn’t been plotting this entire night. He’d expected that the PDA and introductions would need to be meticulously planned, but it all happens with such ease that it surprises him. Joshua had handled the introductions for him and it seemed so natural to put a hand on her back or waist or hold her hand when they stood next to each other. He finds he kind of likes it. 

Jeonghan can tell that Y/N has had enough social interaction a little after midnight and begins to pull her by the hand towards the door. He’s surprised when Seungcheol invites her to hang out with them the next day. On Sundays, they often go to the sports complex and find something to do. He’s even more surprised when she says yes. 

Very few words are necessary on the way home. They both know this has been a huge success. Enough that she lets him throw his jacket around her and take a picture of her, which is uploaded to Instagram right away. Hard launch complete. Phase two begins now. 

It was clear on Sunday morning that her friends are staging an intervention. 

Y/N is already dressed to go to the sports complex later and comes out on the hunt for some breakfast. She finds her living room full and six pairs of eyes on her. Wonwoo is the one to pat the seat next to him and ask that she sit down. He starts gently. “We saw the post. It’s blowing up on instagram. Is there something you’d like to tell us?” 

She loves Wonwoo, and all of them really, but there’s an expectant look in their eyes that makes her seethe. Like they think they deserve answers. “Does it matter?”

“Matters?! Yes it - of course it matters, Y/N. You’ve been dating and you didn’t even tell us,” Wonwoo cries, calm facade gone. 

“This is what this intervention is about? That I’m dating and didn’t announce it immediately?” She can’t help but deadpan in total disbelief.

“Yes! Y/N, it’s so unlike you to not tell us what’s going on with you,” Soonyoung answers, frowning. 

“Have we done something?” Junhui asks. 

“Have you done something? Is that a serious question?” Minghao puts his face in his hands because he must know where this is going. He’s already been ripped apart for this once back at the coffee shop. The others are genuinely nodding though. Minghao must not have said much about their conversation because it would have served as a warning. Y/N laughs bitterly, running a hand down her face in exasperation. “I’d like to know where you all find the audacity to ask me that like you haven’t been hiding things from me for who knows how long.” 

Besides Minghao, they look surprised, like they’d already forgotten the big reveal at dinner the other night. “Y/N, I promise we didn’t tell you only because we didn’t want it to be a setback,” Seungkwan tried to reason. 

“And you didn’t think it would be a setback when I found out while he’s sitting across from me at dinner, which I didn’t even want to be at by the way? I sucked it up and went for Junhui because it was his night. Did you think that felt great to find out that not only did Seokmin toss out nearly 7 years together because he has bigger and better things to do, but one of those bigger and better things included moving on in what? A matter of months? Was it even that long? Did you think it felt great to know that everyone else knew before me?” Now Y/N is out of her seat, refusing to be placated by Wonwoo whose trying to pull her back down. “You guys are supposed to be my friends. Seokmin and I intentionally didn’t make you guys pick between us but it seems like you did anyway. And now you all are upset that I’m moving on? It’s okay for Seokmin to be happy after he tossed me out like trash and I can’t go on a fucking date a year later and be happy about it?”

“And you think Yoon Jeonghan will make you happy?” Vernon ask pointedly. 

“Yes! I wouldn’t be dating him I didn’t think so!” Tears of frustration are pricking at her eyes now. She doesn’t like how they’re talking about Jeonghan, regardless of whether any of it is real or not, and she doesn’t like that her happiness is so conditional to them. 

“Y/N, honey… he’s just such a far cry from Seokmin in literally every way,” Wonwoo tried to reason. She knows what he means. Seokmin is sunshine personified, a hero, known to be one of the kindest people you’d meet, and Jeonghan’s the evil villain in this story to them. But Jeonghan hasn’t destroyed her. He seems to be going out his way to make sure he doesn’t with their little plan. No amount of loyalty and kept Seokmin from doing that though. 

“It’s almost as if that’s the entire fucking point. You guys watched Seokmin rip my heart out after so long together and you still seem to think he’s the good guy here. Seokmin’s not the guy you think he is, but neither is Jeonghan. This intervention is over. Fuck you guys.”

She doesn’t know who knocks on her bedroom door every now and then but she doesn’t respond. When it’s time to leave for the sports complex, she walks past the living room quickly, ignoring their calls. She stuffs her feet in her tennis shoes and she’s out the door. 

Jeonghan meets her in the lobby. She’s sure he can tell something’s wrong immediately, but he doesn’t ask right away. He tells her that Mingyu and Seungcheol are already at the gym but they’re in no hurry so they can take their time walking.

It’s when she continually silences calls and ignores texts before finally shutting off her phone entirely that Jeonghan has to ask. “Is everything okay?”

“My friends staged an intervention this morning. I’m still pissed.”

“Intervention? I’m gonna need you to elaborate.” So she does, because she doesn’t see a point in keeping it secret from him. He should know about it before he comes around her friends, if they’re still even considered that. It’s strange how she finds some comfort in hooking onto his arm that’s stuffed in his coat pocket and even stranger how he doesn’t seem to react. This was the man that didn’t know what innocent touch really was until a week ago, but it feels so natural. Just like last night at the party.

When she’s done explaining, he looks conflicted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this would cause such a rift for you and your friends.” 

“The rift was already there when they started keeping secrets from me. They just made it worse by expecting honesty when they weren’t giving it back in return.” She tightens her hand around his arm, leaning into him a bit. He must think she’s cold because he loosely throws the arm over her shoulder and pulls her into his side. It’s the closest they’ve been at this point but it’s not uncomfortable at all. Y/N even thinks it’s kind of nice. 

“You’re right, but… it doesn’t help that I’m me. If it were anyone else they might not have reacted that way.” He sounds a little dejected and when she looks up he’s even pouting a bit. She resists the urge to squish his face.

“You know I don’t give a shit about that, right? I know what I agreed to. Besides, you’ve been good to me in ways that others haven’t. If they understood that, they’d back off.” It takes a while but he finally looks down and meets her eyes. 

“It’s just what you deserve. You deserve more than a fake boyfriend really, but I’ll have to do for now.” He looks sheepish but full on laughs when Y/N elbows him in the ribs. 

“Hey! Stop being gross! It’s too cold for this shit!” Jeonghan and Y/N spot Mingyu in front of the sports complex with Seungcheol. It’s Mingyu who yelled, but Seungcheol is laughing. 

It turns out that Mingyu and Seungcheol only brought Y/N to challenge her. It seems they took their losses in pool very hard and needed redemption. First, it was basketball, then it was soccer, then it was volleyball. With Jeonghan’s help, Y/N demolished Mingyu and Seungcheol in each one. The moment they give up is when Jeonghan sets the volleyball to her and she spikes it down their throats.  

“How the fuck did you even jump like that? You’re like half my size!” Mingyu whines, throwing himself on the ground. Seungcheol’s on his knees, head in his hands. They’re still bitter about their losses when they end up at a sushi restaurant that Y/N picked. Oh right, they were competing for who’d pay for dinner and drinks the whole time, because Jeonghan’s friends truly believed their first loss was a total fluke. Mingyu and Seungcheol hand over their cards with a grumble when the bill comes but Y/N is satisfied because not only did she eat whatever she wanted on their tab but it seems like she’s winning them over. Jeonghan’s assured her that the competition is a good sign and whatever snide comments they make now are playful in nature. They even ask when they can hang out with her again. 

It’s been hours since she left, so she’s surprised to find all of her friends still in her living room when she gets home. They look positively panicked. “Y/N, we’re glad you’re okay, we kept trying to call you and we couldn’t check your location.” Soonyoung is hugging her tightly but she’s still pissed. She peels away from him and begins to put away her shoes. 

“Yeah, I turned my phone off.”

“Y/N, we’d like to say some things, if you’d let us,” Vernon started. 

All of them did look exceptionally guilty, but they’d still have to work for it. She crossed her arms but refused to sit down. “Go on.” All of them looked at Wonwoo like they’d rehearsed this. They probably did, now that she thinks about it. Fights like this don’t happen often in this group.

“We’re sorry. We were trying to spare you the hurt but I guess that was unavoidable,” Wonwoo said. “We should have just told you so maybe you had time to process it before you had to see him again. We’re also sorry that we made you feel like we picked Seokmin over you. I promise it’s not like that. We’re all still conflicted about how things went with you two. We do want you to be happy, but we want you to be careful. Yoon Jeonghan is just… not our first choice. But if it’s yours, we’ll support it.”

“Then who is? Whose your first choice?” None of them answer and some of them won’t even make eye contact. Y/N scoffs. “Still keeping secrets, I see.”

“It doesn’t matter who our first choice is. All that matters is that you’re happy. If that’s with Jeonghan, then we’ll support it and we’d love to officially meet him,” Minghao said. He looks stressed. He’s looked stressed since the day at the cafe. He relaxes a bit when Y/N agrees to arrange something. They all do. 

Jeonghan readily agrees to abandon any Friday night plans that he might have had (which was nothing because he hadn’t been committing to anything or anyone besides Y/N and their plotting lately) in exchange for game night with Y/N and her friends. However, he agrees on Monday and immediately begins to panic. He’s aware that her friends aren’t his biggest fans. He even understands it. This is different than proving to his friends, who usually seem to like him, that he can hold down a relationship. This is simply proving to her friends he’s not a totally bad guy. He’ll even settle for being an okay guy. Breaking his image is critical with them if this will work. He and Y/N both know how it would look for her friends to not be supportive. It would negate a lot of their efforts. 

He and Y/N spend a lot of time talking about how this might go on Thursday night after their class. This time, they go to get fast food in Jeonghan’s car because it’s getting too cold to walk. The radio plays lowly while they both sit sideways in their seats for what feels like hours. He kind of feels like he’s getting a pep talk to meet her parents in a way. They ultimately decide that he’ll need to show some humility and play up his sweet nature. Jeonghan laughed when she recommended that, but she reminds him that he wasn’t very cocky the other night when she met his friends. They decide to play the PDA by ear, but that it will look better if he sticks around for a while that night and doesn’t try to sneak off with or without her. They’re still suspicious of his intentions and they need to be convinced that this is all innocent right now. 

On Friday, he shows up early to help Y/N cook dinner. She doesn’t ask him to, he just does, pushing past her when she opens her apartment door and picking up a knife to start chopping things that are laid out on the counter. She doesn’t ask but he’s sure she already knows this is just to work off some nervous energy. 

When her friends start to show up, he learns a few things fast. Soonyoung does not know how to handle his alcohol and swings wildly between imitating a tiger and crying. There’s very little reaction to this so it must be normal. Seungkwan is the biggest gossip he’s ever met and seems to know everyone’s business, even some of his. That’s a little intimidating, but it seems to work in his favor that he’s embarrassed by it.Vernon is very critical of Jeonghan’s movie choices and has some strong opinions on the Star Wars series. Jeonghan has to talk movie theories to get into his good graces. Wonwoo is a huge nerd (this doesn’t surprise Jeonghan, but Wonwoo’s much more shameless about it here). He brags at his rank in some first-person shooter game that Jeonghan’s never really played. Junhui tells really bad, cringe worthy jokes and Jeonghan thinks he might be his favorite here because it breaks a lot of the tension in the air. And Minghao is totally in love with Y/N. 

The way he looks at her says it all. Everybody seems to know, except for maybe Y/N. It’s especially obvious with how he avoids all contact with Jeonghan if he can help it, despite him being the one to ask for introductions in the first place according to Y/N. It occurs to him that she could get something else out of this deal if Minghao manned up and confessed after their ‘break up’. The idea leaves a bitter taste in his mouth for reasons unknown and he tries to be subtle about downing his drink to wash it out. Picturing them together is something he can’t spend a lot of time on and he kind of hopes he never has to see it if and when it happens.

Someone pulls out UNO and apparently they totally ignore the rule disallowing stacking of drawing cards. It’s even crossed out in the little paper manual from the box in pink glittery ink. Jeonghan doesn’t have to wonder who did that. The game is vicious and by the end of it Soonyoung isn’t the only one tearing up with so many cards that they can’t even hold them all in their hands. Jeonghan wins by sheer luck. He would usually cheat excessively at games like this but he swears he didn’t when he’s accused. Some of them don’t seem to believe him.

To put a stop to the heated threats and crying, Wonwoo moves everyone into the living room for some video games. This has the opposite effect and Jeonghan watches as Seungkwan nearly breaks the controller when he loses. Jeonghan becomes a little distracted when Y/N leans into him more to dodge Vernon’s arms flying in rage when he also loses. Without thinking, Jeonghan’s arm comes around her waist and he’s pulling her into his side. She folds instantly, laying her head onto his chest. His heart races and he’s sure she can hear it. 

At some point, they switch to Just Dance and Y/N has swung her legs over his lap. He mindlessly plays with her hands in her lap. He doesn’t know what this looks like to her friends but he finds he doesn’t care all that much. This isn’t about putting on a show because it feels nice and she’s warm and smells good. His heart races more when she twists the rings on his finger. He’s so comfortable with this and he realizes so fucked because this isn’t really requiring much acting anymore and he can’t imagine doing this with anyone else in a matter of three months. 

The following weeks become predictable in some ways. Jeonghan and Y/N spend every spare moment together. Jeonghan’s friends regularly crash these moments, especially Seungcheol and Mingyu who have become particularly fond of Y/N. There are also the occasional interruptions from Y/N’s friends, though they’re still pretty guarded. They’re at least making an effort to be friendly when they see Jeonghan and extend invitations to him when he’s around. 

Their friend groups had even started to mingle some. It was approaching the end of the semester and Soonyoung and Chan were planning a Christmas party before everyone went home for the holidays. Jeonghan was surprised that all of his friends agreed despite the fact that it wouldn’t be the rager that they’re used to. 

Since the game night at Y/N’s apartment, she and Jeonghan have also taken to an open door policy at each others apartments. They don’t need invitations, though it’s nice. They just show up when they’re bored - if they weren’t already together, that is. They aren’t even trying to act cute together, as Y/N put it, anymore. They just enjoy each other’s company and often times innocent touches come naturally. 

He especially likes holding her hand as they walk or cuddling with her on the couch. His friends tease him about it, saying he should let Y/N breathe a little, but he notices she’s just as guilty of initiating physical contact. She likes to hold his arm and huddle into his warmth when they walk around campus in the snow and plays with his hair when he lays on her with his face in her neck or on her chest. He soaks up all of it because it’s so unlike what he’s experienced before. It’s innocent and warm and floods his entire body with something totally unique that he can’t identify. 

But he still wants her badly in other ways and doesn’t want to talk about how it keeps him up at night when his thoughts turn into something not so innocent. He feels guilty about how fast it makes him come sometimes as he touches himself. He’s sure she doesn’t mean any of her touches like that so his 3am habits will remain a dirty little secret. 

What’s totally unpredictable is the attention that both of them started getting. Many guys on campus now approach Y/N to hit on her. One straight up told her, “If Yoon Jeonghan can get with you, then anyone can.” He, along with any others, got ripped apart. Jeonghan didn’t even find out about these conversations from her and certainly didn’t witness them. She was starting to get a reputation of her own and Jeonghan grinned when he overheard one guy tell another not to mess with her and that she and Jeonghan must be kind of serious. 

Jeonghan was also getting attention, maybe even more than when he was single. Some women even approached him when Y/N was with him, like him holding her hand or carrying her bag didn’t matter to them. His shiny new reputation as adoring boyfriend was apparently very likable, even to women that had said they outright hated him before. In another life he might have lived for this kind of adoration, but it got old very fast. By now, he had perfected the friendly yet firm response of, “No thank you, I’m not interested,” and if Y/N was with him he happily introduced her with special emphasis on the word ‘girlfriend’. If they continued to push, he’d become pretty mean. He wasn’t interested in hearing anyone bad mouth Y/N, and he also wasn’t interested in making her look bad by letting it slide. 

The day after finals are done, Y/N is making lists in her little notebook about desserts she plans to make for the holiday party. Joshua has joined them because he can bake and Jeonghan should not. Instead, Jeonghan is seeing what ugly Christmas sweaters he can find online that will get here fast. 

Joshua and Y/N finalize a recipe and ingredient list they’ve been working on and take a break. “When are you going home for the holidays, Y/N?” Joshua asks. Jeonghan frowns. He’s been so busy with the end of the semester and interviewing for his internship that he’d forgotten to ask what her plans were. He feels like a bad boyfriend. Or a bad fake one anyway. At the very least, a bad friend, which he considers them to be by now. 

“Oh, I’m staying here,” Y/N answers. 

Joshua glances at Jeonghan. “Oh. Is your family in town then?”

Jeonghan’s been around Y/N enough to start seeing through the mask she usually wears. There’s some tension in her mouth, the only tell at the moment. “No, they’ll be abroad for the holidays. They usually are.” 

This is news to Jeonghan. He’s abandoned his phone entirely now. Over the past month or so that they’d been ‘dating’, she’d never mentioned her family and he’s never witnessed a phone call or text between them. He just assumed they weren’t close. He hadn’t realized they were so distant that they didn’t even see each other for the holidays at all. 

Joshua’s asking a lot of questions now with a lot of concern. Where are they going? Didn’t you want to go with them? Do you see them often? The subsequent answers were: France, no, and no. Joshua looks devastated. “So you’ll be here by yourself the whole time?” 

Y/N shrugs. “Sometimes, I go with Wonwoo, but his family is going on a cruise this year. His parents are getting their vows renewed and it’s going to be more like a family reunion. So, yeah, I guess I’ll be here.” 

The thought of her alone on Christmas morning made Jeonghan’s chest hurt. There was no way he could stay in his parents’ home and enjoy anything knowing that. “You should come with me.”

Y/N looked surprised, but Joshua looked straight up stunned. Jeonghan knew he would get grilled about this later, but it wasn’t important right now. What was important was getting Y/N to agree. “Hannie,” Y/N started. Jeonghan’s heart fluttered. It was a relatively new nickname and he wasn’t over it yet. He’d been used to her calling him his full name to give him a hard time (which he’d come to like too). “Are you sure? We’ve not been dating long and it wouldn’t give your family a lot of heads up.”

“I’m sure.” And he is. His parents don’t need a lot of heads up because they already know about her. His sister had promptly ratted him out after seeing his Instagram post many weeks ago. He’d take whatever embarrassment his family threw at him in her presence if it meant she wasn’t alone here the whole time. “I’m leaving the day after the party.” 

Jeonghan thinks she’s going to say no. She’s chewing on her lip now, looking right through him to make sure he’s serious. He’s long stopped being nervous when she does this whole ‘staring right into your soul’ thing. He enjoys it now, being seen by someone like this, because she’s never once made him feel bad about what she sees. Finally, she nods. “Okay. Let me know what time to be ready.”

The moment she excuses herself to go to the bathroom, Joshua’s all over him. “Han, are you serious? Taking a girl home to meet your parents?” Joshua looks ecstatic at the idea. 

Jeonghan smiles. “Yeah, of course.”

“Of course? I think I might cry.” And he really does look like he might. “I’m just really happy for you. You two fit together so well.” 

“Yeah, we do,” Jeonghan mumbles. Y/N comes back in the room, ready to go with the next recipe, none the wiser. Jeonghan blindly scrolls through ugly Christmas sweaters without really seeing them because he’s too busy thinking that maybe they only fit together so well because that’s the whole point of their little scheme. Lately, there are times that he entirely forgets about the scheme, which would end in a matter of months. His eyes start to burn at the thought.

A couple days later, Jeonghan finds himself seated next to Y/N at the table in her apartment. It looks like Christmas threw up in here, what with the aggressive amount of colored lights and garland everywhere, the Mariah Carey song that Seungkwan is belting it out to on karaoke (which he’s not actually that bad at), and the ridiculously ugly sweaters everyone is wearing. Mingyu and Y/N are talking sports and Jeonghan isn’t keeping track of the conversation, though he’s staring at Y/N as she talks. She’s got glittery eyeliner on and it’s distracting. Seungkwan laughed at her as soon as he’d seen it, calling it gaudy, but Jeonghan defended her, saying it was cute and festive. He’d defend her glitter habit any day because it was very her and made him smile. It didn’t hurt that she smiled at him when he defended her either. That alone would have been worth it even if he hated it. 

The apartment door swung open and Y/N jumped out of the chair mid-sentence. “You made it!” She’s hugging Minseo and they’re laughing at their outfit choices. It’s nice to see because there aren’t many women that react warmly to Y/N like this. Minseo waves at Jeonghan and then she spots Mingyu. Her smile drops, turning to a sneer. 

“Mingyu.”

Mingyu looks uncomfortable. “Minseo?”

But Minseo’s already off, insisting to go next on karaoke. When Y/N sits back down, Mingyu leans across the table and hisses in barely contained rage, “You like to see me suffer, don’t you?”

Y/N’s grin is smug. “Yes, I do.”

Mingyu’s muttering about another drink as he gets up from the table. Jeonghan’s watched this whole thing with wide eyes. He leans in close to Y/N. “What the hell was that about?”

“It’s my mysterious vendetta against Mingyu. I’ll tell you later.” Jeonghan was so hooked that he was about to insist that she tell him now, but Joshua’s rounded the table to stand behind them. Across from them stands Joshua’s girlfriend, Jieun, grinning with a camera in her hand. Joshua’s started to bring her around more now that Jeonghan and Y/N are together. Something about not being the only targets now. 

It takes entirely too long to figure out why Joshua and Jieun look so sneaky. Jeonghan and Y/N spot the mistletoe at the same time, dangling from Joshua’s fingers above them. Jeonghan’s flooded with panic. As much affection as they show now, kissing had not been on the table yet and Jeonghan was beginning to think it never would be. That maybe they’d just pretend that that part of that relationship was so private that no one would ever see it, so they would never have to think about it. Y/N reaches out to grip the collar of his sweater and yank him forward. 

Just like spotting the mistletoe, it takes entirely too long to realize that he’s now kissing Y/N. A few clicks and flashes of the camera go off before he really reacts, but when he does, he’s holding her head in place. It’s gentle and there are some aww’s, but mostly gagging. It makes Y/N giggle against his lips and he can’t help but giggle too. 

He asks Jieun to send him all the photos she took. 

“What do you mean, you and Minseo pulled a ‘John Tucker Must Die’ on Mingyu?” Jeonghan asks. Last he remembered watching that movie, he’d never seen anything like that happen to Mingyu. He would have certainly remembered it, if only for how much he enjoyed it.

They’d barely pulled onto the highway when Jeonghan started hounding Y/N about her interaction with Mingyu the night before. 

“Well, we didn’t pull a ‘John Tucker Must Die’, but let’s say we were inspired by it. And others helped,” Y/N said casually, sipping her coffee. Jeonghan thinks she looks cozy in the passenger seat, shoes kicked off and feet pulled up into the seat. One of the jackets from his back seat are over her lap as a blanket. He likes the look of it and doesn’t mind driving her around. 

“So this isn’t your first scheme, huh? No wonder you’re so good at it,” Jeonghan teased and it earns him a light slap on the arm. 

She’s laughing anyway. “Contrary to what you might be thinking, I don’t do this type of thing often. Mingyu happened to deserve it.”

Jeonghan believed that. “Tell me what happened,” he insisted. 

Long story short, Mingyu and Minseo dated while she and Y/N were roommates. This is a total surprise to Jeonghan because the way Y/N describes it is that Mingyu was head over heels, to the point that Y/N spent very little time in her room that semester. Her exact words are things like ‘sickening’, and ‘obsessive’, and ‘love-bombing’. Jeonghan couldn’t recall ever seeing his friend like that, or even hearing of a girlfriend so serious. It had apparently worked for Minseo for a while - that is, until she came across him cheating on more than one occasion.

After the first time, Minseo had come back to the dorm in tears. Y/N encouraged her to break up with him right away. He showed up the next day with flowers ‘just because’, and Minseo was weak back then.

The second time, Minseo was mad. The next day, he showed up with some luxury jewelry saying it reminded him of her. She couldn’t stay mad. 

The third time, it was Y/N that came across it. She’d been dragged to a party by Minseo and found him in the bathroom with someone that was definitely not Minseo. Mingyu panicked because he hadn’t known Minseo or anyone close to her was going to be there and as far as he knew this was the first time he’d been caught. He begged Y/N not to say anything. Y/N agreed, but the next day she slid a large whiteboard she’d stolen from a study room downstairs into their dorm room and demanded Minseo seek revenge. 

They started a private Facebook group simply called “Kim Mingyu Must Die.” It turns out that Minseo was far from his first victim. The way Y/N puts it, it practically became a full-time job for a few weeks simply managing the volume of traffic that was coming through. Screenshots, phone call recordings, even some videos of him partaking in some unflattering locker room talk. The kicker was the growing list of embarrassing sexual escapades. Mingyu was not nearly as smooth as he portrayed himself to be. 

Minseo broke up with him by inviting him to the Facebook group.

Jeonghan had to pull over because he was crying from laughing so hard. “Show me right now! No, invite me!” He was positively gleeful the rest of the drive. 

When he parked the car on the street outside of his parents’ house, he noticed that Y/N didn’t move to get out of the car right away. “You good?” 

“It might be a little late to ask this, but are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Jeonghan asked, but he thinks he already knows the answer. At least part of it. This is temporary. The initial plan wasn’t to lie to their families - or his family that is. He wasn’t sure if her family even knew about him and hasn’t brought it up because it seems like a sore subject.

“Have you ever brought a girl home?” Y/N asked, but she’s not looking at him, examining the cheesy Christmas decor that his mom insists on putting up. 

Jeonghan has to laugh because the situation they’re in should make it obvious. “No.”

“What have you told them about me? I assume I’m not a total surprise… right?” She looks at him with wide eyes. 

Just like that it’s his turn to look away because he definitely can’t look at her when he answers. “I told them we met in class. That you were pretty, and funny, and took absolutely no shit.” Jeonghan picks at some fuzz on his sweats to keep avoiding her eyes. “I wasn’t sure how much you wanted me to say. But they’re looking forward to meeting you.”

She reaches out and captures his hand and he grips back reflexively, looking up at her. She’s not shy about physical touch with him, never really has been since all of this started, but it almost makes him feel giddy every time she initiates the contact. “You’re okay with me being here?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t have invited you otherwise.” His answer is automatic and honest. “Are you though? I can take you home. We haven't gone in yet.” He means it. He’d start driving again and tell them he’s running behind and Y/N couldn’t make it. Or maybe even bail entirely just to stay with her back at her apartment. There were a couple hours on the road to think of a decent excuse.

Her grip gets tighter on his hand and she looks back at the house. He patiently waits for her. “I’m not used to what you might consider a normal family dynamic. I’m going to be awkward. Really awkward, probably.”

“We’ll make it work. I’m just glad you’re here and not alone at home the whole break.” 

She looks like she’s steeling herself. “Will you hold my hand?” 

Jeonghan’s heart could explode. “You know I will. As soon as I can put the suitcases down.”

He keeps his promise. As soon as the suitcases are placed in the entry way, Jeonghan is helping her with her coat and shoes. There’s a yell from the kitchen. “Is that my son?!”

“Yep!” He yells back, before turning to Y/N and offering his hand. 

His parents are warm. It’s the best way to describe it. When Y/N spots them, they’re in the kitchen cooking dinner together. Both are wearing cheesy Christmas aprons and their smiles are huge when they spot Jeonghan. He has to drop Y/N’s hand to hug both of them and it kind of looks like they’re squeezing the life out of him. But as soon as he’s got some space between him and his parents, his hand is on Y/N’s back. It’s grounding to her if only for a moment. 

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” he says simply. To her surprise, she’s pulled into a hug by both of his parents. At the same time. She tries to be polite but she’s totally overwhelmed by it. Jeonghan waves them off, “Okay, okay, don’t scare her off, please.”

As soon as they back off, she’s close to Jeonghan again and she hopes it doesn’t seem rude. She cares about what they think and she can’t pinpoint why in the moment. Jeonghan’s hand falls to her back like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She doesn’t know what to do with herself but his mom leaves very little time to stress. 

“Y/N, how’s your baking?” Y/N says ‘okay’ and Jeonghan says ‘amazing’. His mom smiles again, handing her a whisk. “Great, you get to help me make dessert.”

Hours later, after dinner, Jeonghan says they’re going to turn in for bed early. He makes the usual excuses like traveling, but really he can see that Y/N is still totally overwhelmed and needs the opportunity to regroup. Upstairs, he points her to the bathroom across the hall for a shower and he takes the chance to tidy up his room. Since he’s been with her, he’s made an effort of trying to keep his space clean in case she comes over. Last time he was home to visit he wasn’t with her yet, so it’s not in the greatest condition. 

While putting fresh sheets on the bed, he tries not to think about how they’ve agreed to share his room for the duration of their trip. His sister’s coming in tomorrow so her old room is not an option beyond tonight. Y/N insisted he not sleep on the couch, and Jeonghan let it be known that her sleeping on the couch was never even an option. 

This is a boundary that they haven’t crossed yet. They might spend just about every waking moment with each other, but there had been no sleepovers yet. He trusts that she’d tell him if she didn’t like the sleeping arrangements or if she has any ground rules for the next week or so. She’s not usually shy to tell him what she’s thinking. But this is most certainly a test of his restraint and he doesn’t want to mess everything up.

When she comes in, he doesn’t look at her right away, too busy shaking a pillow into a pillow case. “Feel better?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” she says, but the crack in her voice makes his head snap up. Her eyes look puffy and red and he can only assume she’d cried some while in the bathroom. Some guilt is settling in. Maybe he hadn’t realized just how overwhelmed she was. He wonders what her life was like before, as a child, as a teenager, if a few hours of basic kindness and warmth from his parents has her like this. 

He throws the pillow down and opens his arms. She walks right into them, wrapping her arms around his waist. He finds himself practically folding himself around her, bending some to put his head next to hers instead of on top. He can smell her shampoo and his hands rub her back without much thought. His T-shirt is starting to get wet and he’s pretty sure it’s not just because of her freshly washed hair. 

Jeonghan waits for Y/N to pull away first and when she does, he’s ushering her under the covers. Whatever stress he had about this moment is null and void now because it’s a no brainer to slide into the sheets next to her and pull her to him. Without much of a fight, she puts her head on his chest again, one arm wrapped around him. He mindlessly alternates between patting her wet hair and rubbing her back, his other hand holding hers where it sits on his chest. He’d like to never leave this spot because it means a lot to him that she’s willing to be like this with him. 

“Want to talk about it?” He whispers after a long time. Or maybe it’s only been a few minutes. Time is moving differently right now. There’s a sniffle below him and his lips press to the top of her head before he even realizes it. 

“I’m sorry. They’re nice. I’m not used to that.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jeonghan insists. “I’m sorry it’s not what you’re used to, but it can be here.” 

He’s not sure why he said it. As soon as he does, he realizes he must have forgotten again that this is temporary. In just over a month, he can’t keep that promise. It should have been obvious from the start to Jeonghan, but this ‘break up’ was going to feel like a real one. When that happens, he won’t be bringing her back here to see his family, though he’d like to. He won’t be spending every waking moment with her then because all of it will hurt too much. It already does in a way with the anticipation of the ending creeping up on them. 

He feels tears pricking his eyes and there’s something jagged about his breathing. It’s like she has a sixth sense about why because she squeezes his hand. “We’re making a mess of this, huh?”

It sounds like maybe he’s not the only one who keeps forgetting, but he’s afraid to ask. He laughs and it’s a bit watery. “Yeah, you could say that.” 

Y/N is twisting now, nearly laying on top of him. His body heats and hardens immediately at the feeling but his emotions are starting to become all over the place and it distracts him. She props her head on her hands as they lay flat on his chest, looking up at him. There’s something irresistible about how he’s pushing her hair back and holding her face while the other hand grazes the skin of her back when her shirt creeps up. It’s entirely too intimate to be fake anymore and he can see she knows it too. This moment isn’t to prove anything anymore. Neither of them will say it outright. 

He’s always admired her for how she can compose herself, but he likes that she doesn’t bother often at this point with him. She looks and sounds vulnerable when she whispers, “How do you want to proceed?”

He understands. This has gotten too intense, too serious. She’s giving him an opportunity to back out right now, three month agreement be damned. They can go home and say it just didn’t work out and it’s too bad. Maybe they can even stay friends because they stopped digging this hole they’re in and start climbing out together. 

Jeonghan takes a deep breath and his throat burns. “Let’s call it off after New Years.” 

Her smile is a little shaky. “Ok. Two weeks. Let’s make the most of it.”

He smashes his lips onto hers and she responds immediately, her hand flying up to tangle in his hair. He really did plan to make the most of what little time he had left. They could start climbing out of this hole in two weeks, but not now. He wanted to, no, had to keep digging while he still could before this was all over because he would need the good memories later.

Y/N begins soaking up the warmth that is the Yoon family the next day, knowing she might not see them anytime soon after all this, or ever maybe. She soaks up the maternal energy Jeonghan’s mom constantly feeds her by baking, decorating, and wrapping presents. They gossip over wine and trash TV, and Jeonghan’s sister joins them when she’s home and not visiting friends while she’s in town. His sister is hilarious and Y/N immediately enjoys watching how she pokes fun at Jeonghan when they bicker, which is every single moment they’re in a room together. Y/N is an only child so the dynamic is new to her, but between the shouting matches and headlocks they appear to love each other. Then she spends time playing games and having snowball fights with Mr. Yoon, who’s a bigger kid than either of his actual kids. He likes to laugh and his horrible dad jokes have her in stitches. 

Then there’s Jeonghan. When she said they should make the most of the rest of their holiday, she hadn’t expect that it meant he’d be glued to her the whole time. There were not many moments that he wasn’t touching Y/N in some way, not that she would ever complain. 

And it didn’t stop when they crawled into bed each night. It might start innocently at first, but the moment either one of them leaned in to give a kiss, it became heated quickly and one was on top of the other. She was soaking that up too. The feeling of sitting on his lap with his hands up the back of her shirt, grazing and gripping her back as he kissed her made shivers run through her. Or feeling him laying on top of her between her parted legs while his tongue dipped into her mouth lit a fire she hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

If she was being honest, it had never felt like this with anyone before, period. Not that she had experienced something like this with anyone else besides Seokmin, but it had never been like this with him either. No clothes had even come off yet between she and Jeonghan and it was one of the best experiences of her life. Far better than thinking about him in the middle of the night while she touched herself back home. 

She wasn’t proud to admit it, but there were times that she grew a little self-conscious of her inexperience compared to his significant amount of experience. She wanted to measure up to what he’d had before. However, most of that worry washed away with how he reacted to her touch. She’d run her hands into his hair and he’d sigh. She’d bite his lip or neck and he’d gasp. She’d run a hand up the back of his shirt when he was laying on top of her and leave scratch marks and he’d groan into her mouth. It was intoxicating to get those little reactions and know that he was as turned on as she was. Even if he didn’t give her those little sounds, she could feel how hard he was when he pressed against her. 

And he made sure to find what she liked too and keep doing it over and over. His hand in her hair was her favorite, but the runner ups were things like his hands running up her thighs to her ass when she was in his lap, or his mouth and teeth on her neck. Not that she hated anything he did. It all felt like heaven. 

They’d come very close to taking things too far many times. When they were at that tipping point, Jeonghan would be the one to pull back and lighten his touches, a clear signal that it was time for a breather. Despite how hard he was against her, he had stopped every time this happened. His restraint surprised her given what she’d heard about him and even seen herself. He’d never seemed to hesitate to sleep with someone. She was forced to consider that maybe he just didn’t want to have sex with her and it stung a little. But maybe that was a good thing in the end because, even though they’d agreed to call things off when they got back, the way they enjoyed this made things messier. 

But if he ever did offer more, she was going to take it. He might have had restraint but she didn’t think she would. 

It’s Christmas Day and the festivities were long over. Y/N’s had a somewhat emotional day because she’d expected to sit on the couch and watch the Yoon family open their gifts. The good vibes and hot chocolate would have been more than enough for her, but then they started handing her presents. She’d checked the tags with watery eyes and, sure enough, they were for her. Jeonghan’s hand had stayed on her back as he watched her open the presents as a silent show of support. They weren’t overly personal or expensive gifts. Books, a sweater, a set of glittery pens. It was enough to know that Jeonghan had given them a few pointers though. 

Now it’s the middle of the night and no longer Christmas Day even, and Jeonghan’s got his front pressed tightly against her back. She can feel his soft breaths in her hair. “Hannie?” He hums sleepily. “Is it weird that I got you a gift?” 

She hears his breath catch and then he tightens his arm around her. “No, I got you one too. Wasn’t sure when to give it to you though. If you even wanted it. Does it still classify as a Christmas gift now?” 

He’s giggling and it makes her giggle too. “If it’s in Christmas wrapping paper, then yes.” Y/N rotates a bit to see him, though he’s so buried in her hair she’s not seeing much. “Do you want yours?” 

One eye peels open and then he’s grinning. “Okay.” Y/N is up in a flash digging into the bottom of her suitcase. She and Jeonghan sit on the bed facing each other and Jeonghan has very little hesitation about opening the gift when she hands it to him. When he peels the lid off the box and lifts the tissue paper, he stops. She’s afraid maybe she’s made a mistake, especially when he sniffles a bit. He admires the simple frame holding a familiar picture. It’s one of the many that Jieun took of them at the party a week ago. It’s the moment where they’re giggling after their first kiss. 

“How did you do this? We left the day after this was taken.” Jeonghan gets lost in the photo. 

“Jieun sent me the pictures. I got this one printed and bought a frame when your mom and I went out the other day for more baking stuff.” 

She’s getting nervous, but then he laughs, wiping his eyes. “So sneaky. Do you want yours?”

“Okay,” Y/N answers softly. She doesn’t know what to expect and she’s really nervous now. She’s not used to gifts, usually refuses them because she feels so awkward accepting them. Jeonghan opens the drawer of his bedside table and pulls out a small box. He carefully places it in front of her. 

“I’m sorry if it’s weird, but it made me think of you.” She wants to say there’s probably nothing he could do that she’d find weird. Instead, she picks up the gift and gently unwraps it. She lifts the lid up and something shiny catches her eye. It’s a silver ring with suns and moons on it. When she takes it out of its cushion, the outside layer of the ring spins. She can feel Jeonghan’s eyes on her but she doesn’t know how to react so she keeps examining the ring. 

“It’s - uh, it spins because you like to play with my rings like that. And the suns and moons reminded me of how you doodle them on your notes all the time.”

She still can’t look at him, but she mumbles, “You surprise me, Yoon Jeonghan.” She slides it onto a finger and it fits. She’s not sure how he got the right size. 

“Is that a good thing right now?” He jokes, but there’s a tinge of anxiety in his tone that gives him away. 

Y/N swipes all of the boxes and wrapping paper out of her way and lunges for him, crawling into his lap. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her in even closer. She’s hiding in his neck when she mumbles, “Yes, it’s my favorite thing.”

Jeonghan and Y/N drive back the day after Christmas. Jeonghan tries to keep a positive attitude, but he dreads going back because it reminds him that the clock is ticking. He thinks Y/N might be feeling the same way, though she’s wearing a mask again. At least it’s a happy one and not her usual poker face. He grips her thigh the whole way home like its an anchor and hers sits on top. 

It feels bittersweet to arrive back to his empty apartment. Seungcheol won’t be back for another few days. This is the longest he’s been away from Y/N in weeks, but they both agreed they need to do some laundry and catch up on some things. Jeonghan thinks this is only a taste of the distance they’re about to have because he doesn’t know how to broach the topic of being friends after all this. 

But he’s glad they’re on the same page later that night because just as he’s about to slip on shoes to go to her apartment, she knocks on his door. She says it’s because Vernon’s away still and she didn’t want to be home alone, but they both know it’s because they don’t know how to sleep apart now after just a week of it. He pulls her into his bed and when he can’t breathe from kissing her anymore, he falls asleep with his face in her neck. 

The next night, it’s Jeonghan who knocks on her door and she opens it like she’s been waiting for him. He’s laying with his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as she threads her fingers through his hair. He so close to sleep but her hand stays busy in his hair and it seems like she’s not as sleepy at all with the pace she’s keeping. So he asks what she’s thinking about. 

After a long beat, Y/N finally asks, “would you ever have sex with me? If I asked?” 

He lifts his head up, nearly hovering over her now. He knows his look is intense, but he can’t help it. “I’d give you anything you want. All you have to do is ask.” He means it. He waits and watches her while his fingers twitch against her stomach. He’d been so careful to pull away every time it seemed like that was where things were headed because the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel pressured or complicate this whole thing further. But he’d fold the moment she asked. He knows it and he’s okay with it. Wants it even. 

Y/N’s hand laces through the hair at the nape of his neck and she’s scanning his face carefully. “I want you.” 

He lets her pull him down and her kiss is soft. He feels her hand shake on the back of his neck. He’s hovering over her completely now, arms braced around her head. When they run out of breath, he runs his lips down her jaw and onto her neck. “Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.” Something like a sigh and whine escapes her lips. He’s not doing it to be cruel or tease her. He really just wants to do everything to please her as long as she’ll let him. He places a few pecks up under her ear and then sucks at the spot and she gasps. “Come on, baby. Tell me.”

“Clothes off, now.” He sits back on his knees and follows her command immediately because her voice right now is one of the sexiest things he’s ever heard and it makes him throb. He peels off his shirt and sweats and he’s about to ask for permission to undress Y/N but she’s already tossing off her hoodie and yanking her sleep shorts down her legs. His brain is trying to catch up with the fact that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath the hoodie, but Y/N is impatient and pulls him back down to her by the shoulder. A groan bubbles up from his chest into his throat. 

He wants his hands everywhere all at once. Her skin is warm and feels so soft under his touch, and he loves the sigh that she lets out as his hand come up her stomach to her chest. She’s so fucking responsive and he’s never wanted anyone more in his life. When she flat out moans as he pinches one of her nipples lightly, he has to pull back just to look at her. He wants to keep working her up like this, but he’s also working himself up at an alarmingly rapid rate. 

He cups her breast to squeeze and kisses her again, before barely pulling back to whisper against her lips. “What now?” He’s switching hands to give attention to her other breast and she arches into him. “Where do you want me?”

“Lower, please,” she says and he thinks he could come totally untouched. The need in her voice worms its way into his brain and he kind of hopes he never forgets it.

“You don’t have to say ‘please’ with me, Y/N. At least not right now.” Because he’s decided that if she ever lets him do this again he’ll make her beg until she cries. But not now. She can have whatever she wants. 

His hand skates down her stomach to the top of her panties, a cute pair that has polar bears skiing on them. He smiles against her cheek because he loves it. Loves that she doesn’t have to even try to be the hottest woman he’s ever seen, even without all the lace. Loves that she’s so lost in his touch that she doesn’t show a hint of embarrassment about it. His fingertip finds the band of her panties and runs underneath the edge and he loves how she shudders. He pulls his finger out and runs his hand down to totally cup her over the material now and her eyebrows are pinched. He rubs softly, feeling a wet patch forming under his fingertips. He pulls the panties to the side and gives a soft, experimental stroke to her lips, dipping between. 

It makes whatever control he thought he had snap. Now he was moaning with her because she was soaked. “Fuck, baby. Did I do this for you?” 

She nods, hand now gripping his bicep like an anchor. “You always have,” Y/N sighs.

Jeonghan feels like a man possessed now. His fingers dip into her wetness before they land on her clit and he starts circling slowly. “Did you touch yourself like this thinking about me? Did you make yourself come?” She doesn’t answer because she’s gasping and her nails are digging into his arm. “Answer, baby.”

“Yes. Many times,” Y/N grits out. 

Jeonghan’s pulling back, hands leaving her as he leans back on his knees. “Show me.” His tone is demanding and her eyes snap open. He’s never seen her look so surprised and maybe that makes sense because he just told her he’d do anything for her. After this, though. He needs this. “Show me how you touch yourself, how you make yourself come. I want to see it.” 

Y/N feels like she’s on fire. “But I want you to touch me.” She whines but it doesn’t seem to matter because something has shifted in Jeonghan’s eyes. A hardness that she’s never seen before. 

His hands reach down to grab her knees, lightly pushing them apart. “And I want to see you come before I touch you. Then I’ll make you come as many times in as many ways as you can take, I promise.” His intensity numbs her mind and she wonders how much she can take from him if he’s like this. His promise replays in her head and she’s fucking aching for something, anything. 

So she slips her panties down her legs and tosses them somewhere, she doesn’t care, and spreads her legs wide. One of her hands finds one of her breasts, rolling her nipple, and the other slides down between her legs. She would usually do this with her eyes closed, but she can’t because the way Jeonghan’s eyes are tracking her movements makes her drip. 

She slides two fingers inside of herself right away and sighs at the feeling, but she feels herself flutter around her own fingers at the way Jeonghan’s breath hitches. He’s watching closely, eyes glazing over, lips parted a bit. Her fingers pump in and out at a slow pace and Jeonghan’s hand grips her knee. Now both of her hands are between her legs, one rubbing her clit and the other pumping three fingers in and out. Her high is approaching fast. Jeonghan’s now centered himself between her legs, both hands on her inner thighs, spreading her as wide as she can go, nearly beyond her flexibility. Her orgasm slams into her, her eyes snapping shut, but Jeonghan’s still watching because he’s holding her legs open when they try to close reflexively. 

Y/N sags back into the bed feeling boneless. When she opens her eyes, Jeonghan sounds a little out of breath. She sees his cock twitching in his boxers. The hand that was just inside her comes up in a ‘come here’ motion and he obeys immediately. “Open.” His eyes flare in shock. “Open so you can taste me.” His pupils are totally blown out, but his jaw drops, tongue sticking out. Three of her fingers dip into his mouth and he moans around them. 

After only a few licks, he’s gripping her wrist and pushing it back onto the bed over her head. His other hand lightly closes around her throat and she feels in her eyes roll back and jaw drop at the touch. His tongue is in her mouth and she can taste herself. Then he’s moving fast, his tongue dragging down her neck, her chest, to her center. “Oh, baby. I hope you can handle it because I want to see that over and over again.” 

Y/N wants it even if she can’t handle it. The moment he’s laid between her legs, hands on the inside of her thighs again, she’s gripping his hair and pulling him forward. He’s groaning when his mouth first touches her cunt. He doesn’t hesitate now, doesn't wait for her to tell him what she wants anymore. His tongue laps across the entirety of her pussy, getting a good taste of her before he starts an unforgiving routine. His tongue dips into her over and over and just when she’s close his lips move to close around her clit until she’s close again. Then repeat. She must be gripping and pulling his hair painfully now to keep him where she wants him to no avail, but it just makes him moan into her cunt louder.

Tears are filling her eyes at how overwhelmingly good everything feels and now she’s babbling, gripping the sheets. “Please, Hannie. Your fingers. Want to cum.” Two of his fingers slide in immediately and they feel so much better than her own, stretching wider and reaching that place that’s always just out of reach for her. He finds it quickly, rubbing circles into it. His lips close around her clit again, tongue dancing across it, and tears are streaming down her face now. She’s not sure she’s breathing. 

Her vision goes white and she has no idea what she sounds like. He holds her legs open, letting her ride it out. When some sense comes back to her, she mumbles, “Holy fuck, how did you do that?”

Jeonghan’s giggling against her thigh and she snaps up, propping herself up on her forearms to look down at him. This can’t be the man that just made her see god with his tongue. She smirks and he notices the shift immediately, raising an eyebrow in question. “Your turn, now.”

His mouth pops open. “What - no, baby, you don’t have to do that.”

“You said I could have anything I want, right?” He nods quickly. “Then I want your cock in my mouth.” 

Y/N watches with glee as his eyes roll back in his head. “Baby, you can’t say things like that!”

“Why not? You don’t like it? I thought you wanted me to tell you what I want and you’d give it to me.” She knows she’s playing with fire because he could have her coming again in moments if he wanted to, but she likes how fast he folds. He’s flopping next to her on the bed and pulling her into a heated kiss in moments. 

“Yeah, of course I like it. I like anything you say,” he mumbles against her lips and doesn’t stop her when her hand slides from his chest all the way down. He gasps into her mouth the moment her hand makes contact, rubbing his cock through his boxers and then giving a soft squeeze. His eyes are shut tight. His hand snaps out to grip her wrist, but he doesn’t make her stop her motions. “Baby, I’m not gonna last long if you do this. I’ve already been close so many times tonight.”

Y/N ignores the warning. If she can come more than once, so can he. She continues rubbing him, pressing light kisses to his lips and cheek while he looks a little lost. “Tell me something, since you already know my secret. Have you ever touched yourself thinking of me?” 

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes still shut tight. 

Y/N hums next to his ear now. “Tell me what you were thinking about. What made you come?” His hips jerk up to meet her motion and she grins. “Come on, baby. Tell me what you want.”

The grip on her wrist tightens and then suddenly he’s gripping her throat again as he laughs deep in his chest. “You evil woman, using my own words against me.” His lips land harshly on hers but he has to pull away to moan when she adds significant pressure to his cock. 

Her fingers dip into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down enough to reveal his cock. She becomes wetter by the second as she takes him into her hands. He’s falling into her neck now, broken moans with every stroke of her hand. The fingers of her other hand thread back into his hair again like it’s her favorite thing to do, but this time she tugs hard. His cock twitches in her hands. “Tell me what you think about when you touch yourself and I’ll let you come.”

Jeonghan sighs and Y/N thinks she’ll never get enough of watching his eyes roll back like this. “I think about you on your knees with my cock down your throat. You crying on my cock as I ruin you. You creaming all over me.” She strokes him faster, expecting that to be it, but it’s not. He’s getting worked up and words are spilling out fast. “You moaning my name. Crying my name.” 

Y/N can’t help it. She’s already pulling away from him and kneeling between his legs. He whines at the loss but she shushes him. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?” The words have an immediate effect, his face falling into an expression she’s never seen on him before. Something like awe maybe. He nods hesitantly. “Good. Then let me taste you, too.” She’s leaning down to hold his cock again. As soon as her head is in reach, his hands are combing through her hair and she’s unsure if it’s to hold her hair back and be helpful or keep her there. Maybe both. 

She gives him a few strokes and he looks like he’s not breathing as he watches. Pride floods through her when her mouth finally wraps around his tip and he throws his head back. He’s not the only one that can tease. She alternates between sucking lightly, then deeply, licking and then pulling her mouth away all together. The way he grips her hair when she slides her mouth all the way down to the base feels so nice that she moans around him. And the way he makes this little disappointed noise when she pulls away completely is so cute that she keeps doing it. 

He’s becoming desperate, hands starting to push her down farther and hold her in place, hips thrusting up to be deeper. There’s a constant stream of curses and moans and praises falling from his lips and it seems like he doesn’t want to look away but sometimes he can’t help it. Her tongue runs against his tip as she strokes him fast with her hand and now he’s begging. “Baby, please. Y/N, I want to come. Please let me come.” 

Y/N comes up for air to say, “Go ahead, Hannie.” It only takes a few more pumps of her hand and a couple kitten licks of his tip before he’s shoving her down by the back of the head. He groans as he comes, body shaking a bit from the intensity. 

She releases him when his hand on the back of her head relaxes. His hands blindly reach for her to drag her up his body. His hand his firm on her chin and between the bliss on his face there’s an edge of that hardness she saw when he demanded she touch herself earlier. “Did you swallow it?” The question makes the corners of her lips turn up and she shakes her head. “Let me see.” Her mouth pops open, tongue out carefully. Then she closes her mouth and swallows, opening her mouth wide again to show him. He doesn’t look long before he moans, pulling her by the chin into a kiss. His hands are gentle now, pulling her onto his lap to straddle him. 

“Holy shit, where have you been all my life?” He’s laughing against her lips. 

Y/N’s giggling too, “Like you haven’t had any of that before.” She doesn’t mean it as an insult and he knows it. She just never expected to be able to surprise him in bed like this.

His hand is combing through her hair, holding her against his lips. The low laugh he lets out is secretive almost. “Y/N, it’s never been like that. I think I saw the light for a second.”

Y/N slaps his chest with a laugh now. “You’re so dramatic!”

“No, really. If we go any farther, I might lose it. You’re going to ruin everyone else for me more than you already have.”

“Do you want that? For me to ruin other people for you?” Y/N is careful to ask the question lightly, but she can see that he understands. Moving on after this will be harder if everything gets compared to what they’ve already done and what they might do next. She knows that’s how it will be for her. 

His hands are so soft against her waist as they rub up and down and the way he’s looking at her makes her want to cry. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” She asks. 

Jeonghan is sitting up now to be face to face with her. “Cry. I don’t like it, not like this.” He places a soft kiss on her lips. “And yes. You’ve already ruined everyone for me in so many other ways anyway. I’ll take whatever you give me.” 

Her hand grazes his cheek and his eyes flutter closed. “Why don’t you ruin everyone for me too? Make me remember it.”

Jeonghan is looking at her like he can see right through her. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. You don’t know how much I want this.” His voice his so raw that her heart is cracking a little. This is the closest they’ve come to speaking openly about the unspoken feelings and desires they might have gained for each other. He’s called this whole thing off but the way he’s looking at her right now is at such odds with that decision. 

“I can assure you I want it as much as you do, if not more,” Y/N promises. His grip on her waist is tight now, blunt nails digging into her skin. She leans in close, lips hovering over his. “Please.”

Jeonghan responds to her immediately because the desperation in her tone matches how he feels exactly. His hand goes back to her throat and he pushes her by it, rolling her onto her back and shoving off his boxers with the other hand. Her legs fly around his waist as he gets on top of her and she holds onto his shoulders as he grips his cock to run it along her folds. He wants to wait, to slow down, to make it all last longer, but he’s on autopilot now, totally driven by how much he wants her. No, it’s really closer to a need now. He can’t imagine she wants this more like she said, though. It’s impossible.

His tip slides in and then he’s kissing her deeply, holding both of her hands above her head, threading their fingers together. He slowly pushes in and they give matching broken moans at the sensation. Her lips stop moving against his once he’s fully seated inside, then her head tilts back. He’s kissing her neck, nipping at it and leaving marks, letting her adjust. 

“Okay?” Jeonghan asks, coming back up to her lips. The kisses are so soft compared to what they were moments ago and he can feel Y/N melting. He’s so proud that he can have that kind of effect on her. That she places any kind of trust like this in him. 

“Yes. Please move.” 

He starts slow, an experimental drag almost completely out. Y/N starts to whimper in complaint but it turns into a cry as he slams back into her. He see stars at the way she’s squeezing around him, the warmth and wetness consuming him. He sets a fast pace. When he lets go of her hands, hers plant on his shoulders and his are everywhere. Her hair, her throat, her chest, and finally the back of her thighs as he pushes them up against her chest. The angle is maddening to him and her eyes are watering again when he looks down at her face. “Hannie, more.” 

“Tell me who makes you feel like this, baby.” There’s something so possessive about the demand and she must like it because a moan rips from her throat and she clenches on him. She’s getting close to the edge again and he can’t wait to get her there over and over. 

“You, Hannie.” He grips her hair, tugging her to meet his eyes. 

“Whose cunt is this? Who going to make you come like this?” They’re selfish questions but he needs to know. Needs to know that she’ll remember this and compare it to every other interaction she ever has. He knows he will for the rest of his life because he’ll never find anything like this again, in or out of the bedroom. Jealousy flows through him thinking about someone else in his position. He has to make her remember it. 

Her eyes are rolling back and he lands a soft slap on her cheek to get her to look at him again. She moans at the touch and he feels like he could come already. “Hannie.” Everything she says comes out as a moan or cry now. Tears are streaming down her face and he presses a sweet kiss to the cheek he’d just slapped, totally at odds with everything else he’s doing to her body right now.

“Already crying on my cock like a good girl. Now you just have to come all over it. Do it, baby.” His hand finds her clit, rubbing quickly. 

He thinks she stops breathing as she comes. Jeonghan’s praising her in her ear because he can see the intensity of it all, can feel it, and for the thousandth time tonight he can’t believe he’s being allowed to make her feel like this. He slows down his movements now, kissing her cheek and mumbling, “Good girl.” His hand sweeping up and down her body seems to make her relax so he keeps doing it. He presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Want more?” Y/N nods numbly. “Words, baby. I need you to tell me it’s okay or if you want to stop.” 

Tears are pouring out of her eyes again and she’s begging for real now. “More, please.”

Another sweet kiss to her lips. “Baby, I told you you don’t have to beg. Just tell me what you want and it’s yours.” 

“Don’t care what it is, just keep going.” 

Jeonghan moves fast, pulling out of her and getting to his knees. Before she can complain, he’s roughly flipping her over onto her hands and knees. His hand gently pushes her head down onto the mattress and she moans as he grips a handful of the fat of her ass. He lands a sharp spank and before she can even cry out, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock into her folds again. He slides in easily, groaning again. “Fuck, you feel like heaven.” He sits deep in her like this and the way she’s arching makes him think she likes this position, which is good because he has no idea how many times he’s imagined this exact sight. His imagination pales in comparison to reality. His hand slides from her ass to the middle of her back. The touch is soft and then suddenly it’s not. He yanks on the ends of her hair and pulls out of her, slamming back in. The cry she lets out echoes in the room.

His pace is brutal now and his hands are everywhere. At one point he even pulls her arms behind her back and holds them there while he gropes her breast. She comes for a fourth time like this, harder than before, and he thinks she must be made for him. He meant it - it’s never been like this. Nothing even comes close. Their bodies are becoming slick with sweat and he can see her arousal dripping down her inner thigh when he leans back. 

“I’m close, baby. Will you come with me? Please?” Jeonghan chokes out. He reaches down to her clit, rubbing fast, because he’s dangerously close to bursting. 

“Jeonghan!” She looks like she’s panicking at the intensity of it all and when she finally tips over the edge, she sobs. He fucks her through it, but the way she’s clenching on him and the sight of her tears has him tipping over the edge too. She lets out another sob as he fills her up, coming deep inside.

Her breathing is jagged and he recognizes the signs. She’s drifted pretty far, totally overwhelmed, totally unaware now. Jeonghan places his hands under her hips to help lower them to the bed, sliding out of her. He’s laying next to her, stroking her face, hair, and back soothingly when she really comes back to any sort of awareness. 

She looks as dazed as he feels. Sluggishly, she slides into his arms. They lay there for a long time just breathing. He knows she’s crying, can feel it drip on his neck where her face is buried. He doesn’t say anything because by now he is too, so he pulls the covers over them. They’ll deal with it tomorrow. 

Over the next four days, Y/N and Jeonghan don’t leave each other's side for more than a few minutes at a time. Their friends all trickle back in but Jeonghan and Y/N are too busy trying to crawl into each other’s skin. What little they have to be around others, Jeonghan is pressed up against Y/N’s back or Y/N is in his lap. Their friends make jokes about turning down the PDA a notch. They don’t listen for now because they’ll have to eventually anyway. 

Speaking of PDA, simple touches escalate quickly now. Jeonghan’s hand lands on her thigh and she’s pulling him into the bedroom. Y/N’s fingers run through his hair and he’s folding into her, pushing her back onto the couch. They’ve christened nearly every room of their apartments in a matter of days and they’ve most certainly been caught a few times. Jeonghan doesn’t feel embarrassed, has never felt embarrassed about that sort of thing outside of the times that Y/N was the one to catch him with someone else before all this, but it’s surprised him over and over that Y/N seems to give even less of a shit. When her hand lands on his crotch at the dinner table surrounded by some of their friends, that becomes apparent. 

It’s New Years now and Y/N jokingly calls it their last hurrah. He laughs but he’s feeling so fucking raw about it and he’s sure she can hear it too. She doesn’t stop him when he pushes her into a corner at the party they’ve agreed to attend and smashes his lips onto hers. They’re already kissing when the ball drops and the crowd cheers. She drags him out by the hand not long after and as soon as they close the door to his apartment she’s on her knees, taking his cock into her mouth. He pays her back tenfold, first with his fingers, then his mouth, then his cock. It’s overwhelming how insatiable both of them seem to be and they don’t sleep that night. 

It’s never been like this with anyone, he’s never needed anyone the way he needs her. And it’s not just about the sex. He wants to glue himself to her so that he never has to be away from her. Somewhere between Christmas and now, he’s come to terms with the fact that he loves her - that he’s in love with her. There’s no other explanation for this suffocating feeling. He thinks he has been for a long time now and it’s crushing him, making his chest ache.

There are tears in both their eyes the next day as Y/N pulls out her little notebook and glitter pen. They’re in their booth for what might be the last time together. Jeonghan knows he can’t sit here again without her. They don’t even order anything besides a plate of fries because neither of them are very hungry. Her eyes level with his across the booth and though her eyes are so watery they're threatening to spill over, she gives him a smile. “How would you like to proceed?”

Act Three

Initially, Y/N pitches making it look like she’s the bad guy. She even has some ideas jotted down of how to do that. Jeonghan thinks she’s overly concerned about maintaining his new image now and refuses to let her take the fall for any of it. Refuses to even hear her ideas. He takes the notebook from her and rips that page out, crumbling it in a ball and dropping it on the table. He pointedly ignores her frown and makes another suggestion.

So, just like they started this mess, they decided to do it casually. Wait for the right opportunity to bring it up. Jeonghan hasn’t seen her in a few days now and he’s feeling a weird mixture of agony and relief about it. Distance is probably good if he’s ever going to get over this, but he’s having to stay busy to ignore the itch to find her wherever she is right now. If he’s still for too long, it might consume him. Y/N’s absence is the exact opening he’s looking for, though he doesn’t want to talk about her. He feels sick. He has for days - since he came home from the diner on New Year’s Day to be exact. 

He and his friends are drinking at home tonight. The snow is coming down fast and none of them wanted to go far, so they pick up a couple cases of beer at the convenience store around the corner and pile up in his and Seungcheol’s living room. “Haven’t seen Y/N in a few days, what’s she up to?” 

Jeonghan shrugs at Jihoon’s question. “Not sure.” He swallows hard around the sip of beer. 

“Not sure? I thought you guys were attached at the hip,” Mingyu laughs but it’s not unkind. His teasing has lost its mean edge when it comes to Y/N because, like his other friends, Mingyu is totally soft for her. Jeonghan feels like he’s swallowing battery acid when he drains his drink, reaching for another one with a shrug. 

“We broke up, so I’m not sure what she’s up to.” He tries to say it casually, but it doesn’t really come out right. It’s so fucking hard to remain casual about this, so he focuses on anything else but his friends who have gone silent. 

“Broke up? Hannie, what happened? It seemed like things were going so well.” Joshua sounds as shattered as Jeonghan feels. Jeonghan can’t look at him because he’s just called him a nickname that Y/N uses, or used he guesses, so he keeps picking at the label on his bottle. 

“It wasn’t going to work out.” 

“What did you do?” Seungcheol’s voice is hard. 

Jeonghan expects to be asked this, expects that it will look like his fuck up despite their best efforts to rehabilitate his image. Y/N and Jeonghan had talked about that too. They’d had to discuss it weeks ago because there were whispers around campus that it would only be a matter of time before Jeonghan slipped up and they were trying to get ahead of the assumptions.

He levels with Seungcheol who looks very angry. Flatly simply because he doesn’t have the energy, Jeonghan answers, “Nothing. Like I said, it wasn’t going to work out. It was mutual.” At least that last part was true. 

“Hyung…” Chan starts. “I’m sorry. You seemed really into her.” He kind of looks like he’s just been told his parents are divorcing and he has to choose who to live with now, so Jeonghan looks away. 

“Yeah, it’s too bad,” Jeonghan mumbles, downing half of his drink in one go. He’s filled with so much bitterness about the whole thing, but right now specifically about how they all seem so devastated by the ending to something that they were convinced could never happen. “Guess you guys were right, I don’t have it in me.” His eyes are burning so he closes them. 

“Han,” Mingyu lets out in a blend of exasperation and admonishment. “We weren’t right. We were very wrong about it, about you. And we’re genuinely sorry it didn’t work out. We like her and we like you two together.”

“Are you sure it can’t be fixed? Maybe you guys should give it a few days and then talk,” Joshua says hopefully. 

For a brief moment, Jeonghan imagines what that might look like. What would he say? How would Y/N react? They’re thinking it’ll be an “I love you, take me back” kind of conversation, but it would really be a “please take me back, for real this time” kind of conversation. 

He remembers her sliding the notebook across the table to him with the pen sitting on top. There wasn’t much on the page because there just wasn’t much to this phase, but she’d jokingly drawn a signature line on the bottom of the page. He had taken her notebook and signed everything they’d drafted this whole time just to make her laugh but the action had a sort of finality to it that was sobering. They’d both proved their points, so the job was done. So he’d signed it too while neither of them so much as cracked a smile.

But now he really did feel like he’d signed his life away like she’d joked all those months ago. “I don’t think so, Shua.” Jeonghan recognizes that he’s completely bummed out his friends and he could really use some space now that this wound has been ripped open again. He drains the last of his drink and excuses himself. 

Every semester starts a new routine and Y/N’s holding onto the predictability like a buoy in the middle of the ocean. She’d spent so much time with Jeonghan near the end of last semester that now it feels weird to never see him. They don’t have any classes together because he’s only taking a couple and doing an internship off campus. And anyway, it becomes apparent that he’s avoiding her the same way she’s avoiding him. She’s not even sure which one of them started it first. Things were left so raw even though they agreed on all of it. 

It burned her badly when she told her friends that she and Jeonghan had broken up. She'd had to bring it up randomly because they hadn’t asked. After a few cursory questions about why and what he’d done, she didn’t miss how their shoulders relaxed. They looked relieved by the news and it hurt so badly that she started distancing herself from them. She’s the first one to volunteer for an extra shift at the library and when one isn’t available she pretends she’s drowning in homework although her classes are the easiest she’s ever taken. She doesn’t have breakfast with Vernon anymore, claiming she’s always late or not hungry, and locks her bedroom door when she knows Wonwoo might be crashing with them for the night because it’s a childhood habit of his to hog her blankets and she can’t be around him right now. She doesn’t go to the cafe that Minghao works at anymore. When she can’t avoid them and Soonyoung and Junhui tell her jokes or Seungkwan wants to serenade her with a new playlist, she smiles but doesn’t really know how to laugh with them anymore.

The loneliness was becoming crippling but she couldn’t bring herself to spend time with them when she was doubting that they meant it when they said they wanted her to be happy back in November. Fake or not, she’d been happy in Jeonghan’s company and they were thrilled to be rid of him.

The person who refused to let her be lonely surprised her though. Seungcheol had shown up at her door the day before classes started and all but demanded her schedule. He walked with her to and from campus most days and invited her to lunch with his friends, who were still surprisingly warm to her. She recognized he was worried and was trying to fill a void, but he never mentioned Jeonghan. His actions made it clear. They’d began to call her a friend so that’s what she was. The break up didn’t change that. Although on paper it felt like history was repeating itself like it had happened with Y/N and Seokmin, this felt so different and sometimes it made her want to cry. They didn’t look at her with pity like her friends did a year and a half ago. Her friends hadn’t even asked if she was okay beyond that one conversation about the break up, but Seungcheol had been careful to check in without naming Jeonghan specifically. He made sure she ate and asked her how she slept. He kept her from overworking when he could.

So she and Seungcheol had settled into a routine on most Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. They’d usually come back to the apartment and hang out for a while, and maybe even eat dinner together. She’d even convince him to crack open a textbook or work on a paper sometimes. On this particular day, they’re freezing as they walk into his apartment after trudging through the snow. Even though Jeonghan lives here, she almost never sees him. Seungcheol seems to be strategic about his timing and goes out of his way to make sure they don’t run into each other.

Seungcheol starts some ramen and he’s telling her how he found out that Joshua is ring shopping now. “That’s so cute!” Y/N means it. Joshua and Jieun were sweet together and very obviously in love. She thinks they’ll make it. 

Y/N interrupts to ask if he wants hot chocolate. When he says ‘sure’, she jumps up to start it. “Do you think he’ll propose soon?” She’s asking as she reaches into the cabinet on her tiptoes, fingers hooking around the handle of the mug and sliding it off the shelf. 

“Who’s proposing?” 

Y/N lets out a yelp as the mug slips from her hand, crashing to the floor, broken pieces of ceramic hitting the tile at her feet. Her breath catches and Jeonghan is on her in seconds. She hadn’t even heard him come in - probably would be exiting quickly if she did - but he’s gripping her elbow to pull her back from the mess. “Are you okay?” 

She can’t breathe now and her eyes are filling with tears, panic flooding her veins. “I’m sorry, it slipped.”

“Baby, I don’t care about the mug.” The pet name seems to come out of his mouth so easily and it only heightens her panic. She tries to put her hands over her face, but Jeonghan intercepts them. “Are you hurt?” He’s examining her hands, palms first, then flipping them over to look at the backs. His fingers are soft and warm as they graze the ring he got her for Christmas and she’s full on crying now. She’s vaguely aware that he’s glancing to check her feet too, but she’s wearing socks and slippers. “Baby, talk to me,” he presses gently.

“I’m fine. I’m not hurt. I’m sorry I broke the mug. I’ll replace it.” The words bubble up fast and she feels like she could sob. Her hands start to shake in his. 

Jeonghan pulls her into him. The scent of him makes her body sag and her tears soak into his dress shirt. She’d forgotten he’d have to dress up for his internship at the law office. She tries to pull back because she doesn’t want to ruin his shirt, but he’s mumbling into her hair. “I told you, I don’t give a fuck about the mug, baby. It’s okay, I’m not mad.” 

Things are suddenly too much and when Y/N pushes him at arms length, he lets go. “I’ll clean it up.” Y/N is moving toward the cabinet holding the broom and dustpan, because she really needs something to do and really needs some distance between them to regain some composure. 

“I got it,” Seungcheol says. She’d honestly forgotten he was there for a moment and she feels kind of ashamed that he’s had to see all of that. “Go take a breather.” 

In Seungcheol’s bathroom, she cries hard, feeling exposed like a live wire. Y/N is nervous to go back out there, but Seungcheol doesn’t mention it as he slides her a bowl of ramen and a mug of hot chocolate and pointedly picks a new topic. Jeonghan is nowhere to be found. 

It’s Valentine’s Day. Seungcheol knows today might be hard for two of his friends. Y/N has plans with Minseo and he’s relieved to hear it. She sounded excited about a girls night. Jeonghan is a different story. Seungcheol’s been tiptoeing around Jeonghan’s moods since the beginning of the year. They all have, really. Jeonghan doesn’t show up for much anymore, and when he does it’s kind of like the lights are off and no one’s home. 

That’s why he’s surprised when Jeonghan agrees to go to the singles mixer that Phi and Zeta are hosting. They almost didn’t ask him, because they didn’t want it to seem like they were rushing him to move on. It’s the first instance that Jeonghan has expressed an interest in going out since his breakup. Not a single hook up in sight, though Seungcheol is wondering if tonight might change that and he feels conflicted about it, thinking about how it might get back to Y/N. To make up for the lack of hook ups lately, there’s been more than enough drinking. Seungcheol’s been known to party hard often, but he can recognize when someone’s at a cliffs’ edge where it’s not longer for fun and has become self-medicating. He watches his roommate come home with alcohol every other day and drink until it’s time to go to bed. 

Jeonghan agreeing to attend the party should have been the first red flag. Seungcheol is talking to a girl when he spots Jeonghan throwing back shots. He keeps pulling away from the girl whose trying to be on his arm and whisper to him between each one. He finally pushes her at arms length at one point and Seungcheol doesn’t know what he says but it must have gotten the point across because she moves on to someone else.

Then Seungcheol spots him doing a keg stand. Most people are cheering, but Seungcheol makes eye contact with Jihoon across the room and they know something’s up. Well, something’s been up, but it’s getting worse it seems. It’s when he sees Jeonghan trip over his own feet and giggle as he rolls into the floor that Seungcheol’s had enough. He apologizes to the girl he’s been talking to and has already promised to take home, excusing himself. Mingyu’s not very happy to be pulled away from the girl he’s making out with in the kitchen, but even he recognizes a spiral when he sees one.

Chan and Mingyu have Jeonghan by each arm to hold him up as he sways. Seungcheol tries to unlock the door to their apartment quickly, and soon Jeonghan drops to the couch unceremoniously in a fit of giggles. The four of them stand around for a moment, silently looking between each other before it’s decided that there needs to be some sort of check-in. Too bad Joshua’s not here to partake because he’s out with Jieun tonight.

“Doing okay there? Tough night?” Jihoon starts, trying to keep things light. 

It doesn’t appear to be tough because Jeonghan is still giggling to himself. “Yeah, Valentine’s Day sucks,” he slurs. “Being in love sucks. I don’t know how Shua does it.”

It’s really not a surprise to anyone that Jeonghan feels this way. They could all see it plain as day when they were together and you don’t mourn a relationship the way he has been if you don’t feel that way. “Why don’t you try to fix things, Han?” Seungcheol suggests. “I really think she misses you too.”

Jeonghan pinches his eyebrows. “No, that defeats the whole purpose of our plan.”

“Plan?” Chan asks.

“It was all fake. We just wanted to prove a point.” Jeonghan’s frowning now, the only indication that he’s not asleep. 

Mingyu stammers. “Fake? How - Jeonghan, why would you do that? Why would she ever agree to that?”

His eyes fly open as his head snaps up and though he’s looking a little like a bobble head, he looks defensive. “It was her idea!” He flops back down. “You guys thought I couldn’t be serious about someone and she wanted to prove that she was over Lee Seokmin.” He fakes a gag at the name ‘Lee Seokmin’. “Besides, she’ll probably start dating Minghao any day now.” Suddenly he’s looking really pale. Jihoon shoves a trash can under Jeonghan’s face just in time. 

Mingyu and Jihoon force Jeonghan to rinse his mouth out and drink some water when he’s done throwing up and help him into bed. Chan offers to take out the trash and clean up after Jeonghan. Seungcheol’s stuck in the same spot, hands on his hips. Guilt is clawing at him and he decides he can’t watch this situation spiral anymore. 

Seungcheol is kind of surprised when all of Y/N’s friends agree to meet. They pull together multiple tables in the diner so they can all sit together. It’s convenient in a way that Y/N is working tonight and that Jeonghan went straight to bed with a bottle of alcohol. Most of Y/N’s friends are not being cold, but Seungcheol and his friends agree they haven’t seen much of any of them lately despite how well they all got along before the semester started. This whole break up as driven a wedge between the two groups again and it’s like they don’t know each other all over again.

Plates are mostly empty when Wonwoo finally asks Seungcheol, “So, not to be rude, but why did you want to meet? You said it was about Y/N.” 

Seungcheol glances at his three friends that were with him last night. He feels bad because he hasn’t had the opportunity to fill Joshua in on all this. But it needs to be said anyway. “Jeonghan and Y/N were not really dating.”

The confusion is obvious across everyone’s face. Soonyoung is the first one to finally say something but it comes out in a laugh of disbelief. “What?! You can’t be serious about that.”

“I’m very serious. Jeonghan spilled the beans last night while he was drunk.” Seungcheol confirmed and he was thankful when Mingyu, Jihoon, and Chan nodded along. He needed witnesses because he realizes how crazy all of this might sound. 

“Why on earth would they do something like that?” Seungkwan sounds angry.

Well, Seungcheol’s familiar with that emotion so he matches it. “It sounds like we all drove them to it.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Wonwoo snaps. 

Seungcheol and Mingyu glance at each other and Mingyu shakes his head. He knows Mingyu must be feeling pretty ashamed at how he’s instigated this whole thing because Seungcheol’s feeling it too. Seungcheol bites back his pride and answers. “We’re assuming that it started when we made the bet that he couldn’t date anyone.” 

“You guys made a fucking bet about her?” Minghao is raging and it gets the attention of the waitresses behind the counter and they share a look of anxiety. Seungcheol needed to take control of this fast before they get kicked out. He doesn’t think they’ll agree to meet again if this conversation ends now. 

“And I regret it immensely. We all do because we love Y/N now that we know her,” he snaps. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter because the bet never went anywhere. She turned him down immediately. And then out of nowhere they were dating months later and Jeonghan said he had no interest in reviving the bet.” Seungcheol huffs, crossing his arms and falling back in his seat. “Last night, he said it was to prove that he could do it and that it was even her idea.”

“Why in the world would she come up with something like that? What would she stand to gain from this?” Junhui scoffs like he doesn’t believe it. 

“It was something to do with Lee Seokmin, apparently. Whoever that is,” Jihoon shrugs. It’s like a switch flipped. Some of Y/N’s friends sigh, some hide their heads in their hands, some close their eyes. It’s clear that name means something to them. 

“Who’s Lee Seokmin?” Chan asks firmly.

They silently seem to nominate Wonwoo to answer and he huffs, yanking off his glasses to rub his eyes.  “He and Y/N got together freshman year of high school. They were cute together. He seemed to have a good effect on her, brought her out of her shell some. And then last year, he abruptly announces he’s landed a role abroad and he’d be moving in a matter of days. He dumped her just like that. Nearly seven years down the drain.” 

“Tell the whole truth,” Minghao’s all but demands and after a long moment, Wonwoo continues though he looks like he doesn’t want to. 

“We kept in touch with him so we knew he was dating one of his costars in a matter of weeks. But -“ Wonwoo’s planting his hands on the table in front of him, leaning forward. “You guys don’t understand. Y/N was totally blindsided by the break up. We all were, really. The last thing we wanted to do was make it worse… so we didn’t tell her he was already dating someone else. That came back to bite us in the ass when he visited in November and she found out anyway. And then she’s suddenly dating Yoon Jeonghan.” 

Seungcheol bites his tongue at how Wonwoo says his roommate’s name like a curse, but Mingyu doesn’t. “So what? You can stay friends with someone like him but heaven forbid Y/N spends any time with someone else.” 

“Yoon Jeonghan is so different from Seokmin,” Wonwoo scoffs and everyone recognizes it for the insult that it is. 

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” It’s the first time Joshua’s spoken this entire time. He’s usually soft about disagreements, usually playing the role of peace keeper and referee. His expression is anything but kind now and so is his voice. “You guys stayed friends with someone that dumped your other friend after years and you think Jeonghan’s the problem here?”

“Yeah, and how’s he holding up? How many people has he slept with since this supposed ‘break up’?” Seungkwan sneers. 

“None.” The answer is firm and loud from everyone in support of Jeonghan, because it’s clear the table is very divided when it comes to him. Seungcheol is livid now because he knows Jeonghan’s not a bad guy and never has been despite his old habits. He’s beginning to understand why Jeonghan felt the need to rehabilitate his image in such an extreme way.

“He’s turned away every single person that’s approached him, sometimes pretty brutally. Last night was the first time he’s gone out all semester and he got absolutely trashed, which he was already doing at home on the regular anyway. He’s suffering. And you know what? So is Y/N. You think I don’t notice how she is around you guys now? She avoids you guys like the plague. Tell me, how much did you celebrate when she told you about the break up? Which, by the way, you thought was real until about five minutes ago. Did you celebrate in front of her or did you at least wait until she left the room?”

Seungcheol’s met with silence and he knows he’s right. 

Mingyu scoffs. “Man, at least I don’t like to see my friends in pain.” 

It’s clear Team Jeonghan has won but Seungcheol doesn’t feel very vindicated by that. He’s about to get up and leave because this isn’t going anywhere. Even has his hands braced on the table to stand when Minghao speaks up. “How do we fix it?”

This gives Seungcheol pause. He remembers Jeonghan mentioning him, that he might date Y/N any day now. But Minghao looks very serious. 

“Why would you do that?” Seungcheol asks. “I hear you might be into her.”

Minghao doesn’t look too put out by the implication and he doesn’t deny it either. “I want to fix it because I want her to be happy. Fake or not, that’s what they were. Now how do we help them make it genuine?”

“Are you suggesting that we scheme just like they did?” Jihoon asks, eyebrow raised. 

“I’m not sure we can compete with their level of scheming. I mean, I don’t know at what point things stopped being completely fake but they were incredibly convincing from the very beginning,” Vernon sighed. Seungcheol almost felt bad for him because, just like him, this was going on with his roommate right under his nose. 

There’s a long beat of silence and then Mingyu sucks in a breath. “I think I know who could help, but it might take some convincing.”

Minseo is not happy. Not by a long shot. She tried to ignore her phone when DO NOT ANSWER tried calling her not once but six times. Plus multiple texts. Her finger is hovering over the block button when her phone rings again. 

She gives him 30 seconds to explain why he was contacting her, but he only needs 5. “We need your help with Y/N and Jeonghan.”

The mention of her former roommate is the only reason she pushes past Mingyu when he opens Jihoon’s front door. “Explain,” she demands, arms crossed. Mingyu has backed down from Minseo’s anger every time they have to interact since they broke up, running away with his tail between his legs, but instead today he hands her an iced coffee, maintaining an even expression. It even looks like the right coffee order. 

“Thank you for coming. We’re all in here.” She refuses to be softened by him and refuses to acknowledge the coffee. Instead, she followed him into the living room. She didn’t expect for the room to be so full. It seemed all of Y/N and Jeonghan’s friends were on the same team today. She’s afraid she knows where this is going. 

Mingyu leads her to an arm chair so she places her coffee on the floor and sits, crossing her legs and arms expectantly. “Explain,” she demanded again. 

Mingyu bites his lip. “Jeonghan and Y/N weren’t really dating. It was fake the whole time.”

Minseo’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I knew that.”

There are cries of outrage and shock around the room and Minseo rolls her eyes hard. If they’d all been better friends, they would have known too. Or it might have never even happened in the first place. Mingyu shakes his head at her. “What do you mean you knew? You’ve talked to Y/N recently about it?”

“You’re not in a position to make demands, Kim Mingyu. I’m here only because it involves Y/N,” she bites. “But if you must know, yes, I’ve spoken to her recently about it because I’ve known since the beginning.”

“Didn’t you try to talk her out of it or something?” Wonwoo cried, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“I asked some pointed questions about the motivations behind it, but I think they actually had some good reasons. You guys have kind of been assholes.” She looks around the room and then rolls her eyes again. “Oh, don’t look ashamed now. I’m not sure I even want to help you guys with whatever you’re thinking.”

“But someone needs to do something. We know Jeonghan’s miserable and I think Y/N might be too, right?” Seungcheol pleaded. 

Minseo presses her lips together. She wasn’t about to rat out Y/N but she’d been incredibly emotional in the days after the ‘break up’, even more so than the real break up with Seokmin. There were quite a few times this semester that she’d just show up at the sorority house because she had no one else to talk to about it or she needed somewhere private to cry. “You could say that,” she answers shortly. “But what are you going to do about it? They’re really good at avoiding each other from what I hear.”

“That’s why I called you. I know Y/N was the mastermind behind the Facebook group a couple years ago, but you’ve gotten a peek into her mind. Help us plan something to get them back together, for real this time.”

Minseo stares at Mingyu, totally perplexed. She can’t believe he’s bringing up the Facebook group that publicly embarrassed him amongst so many women on campus - and she doesn’t miss how confused the rest of the room looks at the mention of it. She also can’t believe he’s so invested in someone else’s dating life to the point of reaching out to her when it appeared he’d written off dating entirely after they broke up. Finally, she scoffs in exasperation. “Yeah, she was the mastermind, so I can’t hold a candle to her. You should have seen the other things she came up with. What you got was tame. And even if we try to pull something on her, she’s way too smart to fall for it. They both are. Their deal seemed pretty final from what I can tell, so maybe we shouldn’t meddle.”

“It shouldn’t be final if Jeonghan’s in love with her. We should try something,” Jihoon insisted. 

Minseo blinks. “He said that? He’s in love with her?” A few people nod, most of Jeonghan’s friends to be exact. Minseo’s purses her lips. “Find me a whiteboard. A big one.”

Thirty minutes later, Seungcheol and Mingyu are placing what she requested in front of her. It looks suspiciously like the ones the university supplies in study rooms in the dorms. Minseo bites back a laugh. Y/N got one of these off the wall, into the elevator, and into their dorm room single handedly a couple years ago without getting caught and both boys look a little out of breath now bringing it in from the car together. It speaks to the determination Y/N had to help Minseo get revenge back then.

Mingyu lets a handful of dry erase markers roll into Minseo’s hand and steps back. They’re watching her with baited breath and she can’t believe they’re so invested and that she’s agreed to help. With a resigned sigh, she uncaps a pink marker, sitting cross legged in front of the board. “We should start with status updates. How they’re feeling, what they’re doing, what their schedules look like.”

To their credit, everyone is fully committed, giving updates to their friends’ current situations. Minseo doesn’t miss that Seungcheol knows way more about Y/N’s side of the board than her own friends do. It’s a glaring sign of the neglect that they need to come face to face with. This is about getting Jeonghan and Y/N back together, yes, but there are some friendships to repair too. 

Then Minseo asks for ideas. Vernon scratches the back of his neck as he offers, “Couldn’t we just lock them in a room together until they work it out?”

Minseo snorts. “Vernon, are you reading fan fiction?” None the less, she writes down ‘forced proximity’. Ideas begin to flow and Minseo believes none of them are all that great, but they’re really trying here. They offer things like setting them up on a blind date, saying one is in trouble to get the other to find them, and waiting for one of them to get sick so the other can take care of them. There are a lot of things on the board but Minseo thinks they’ll both be suspicious of every single one. 

Chan groans, head in his hands. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but what about fake dating? It worked on us, didn’t it?”

Minseo thinks it’s an absurd idea. “Just how would we go about that? They wrote the whole book on this thing. Literally. I’ve seen their notes.” 

“I mean… Jeonghan’s not going on a date. He flat out refuses to do anything with anyone. But would Y/N? If the right person asks? Maybe it would prompt Jeonghan to do something.” Chan shrugs. 

After a beat of silence everyone turns to Minghao. His eyes flare. “No. Absolutely not. I’d do a lot of things for Y/N but I’m not interested in being a pawn in all of this. It’s cruel of you to even suggest it. Plus, she’s not interested and she never has been.”

“That’s not totally true, but I understand. This is already too messy,” Minseo agrees, turning back to the whiteboard. She ignores the questions that come from multiple people and claps her hands loudly. “No! No more hurt feelings here! We’re trying to fix things!”

Begrudgingly, the only thing they can totally agree on is forced proximity of some kind. Jeonghan and Y/N were inseparable before and if they have to be around each other some of that might naturally come back. Seungcheol doesn’t elaborate but he believes it’ll work because he's seen them interact since the break up. They scrap the other ideas and decide to pray for a miracle. 

They had all underestimated the lengths that both Y/N and Jeonghan would go to to avoid each other. It’s been a month and not a single thing has worked so far. The first attempts are simple. Jeonghan’s friends know his schedule and Y/N’s friends know hers now, and they try to make them mesh often. The two groups run into each other at the student union or on the way to class and stop to chat or plan to meet for dinner and drinks, but both subjects of their plot drift to the back of the group, make excuses that they’re late to something, or simply can’t make it. This happens no less than five times and the team regroups to try a different strategy. 

The second one is pretty ambitious and takes some coordination and a little white lying. Joshua convinces Jeonghan to go on a triple date with him and Jieun. He says one of the guys had to drop out last minute and they don’t want Jieun’s friend to be left out. There’s absolutely no pressure to date -  just an opportunity to get out, chat a bit, and get some fresh air, food, and drinks. What Jeonghan didn’t know was that the second couple was Mingyu and Minseo, who only agreed to be seen together because they needed to rope Y/N in as well. Minseo had said she was considering taking Mingyu back and she wanted Y/N there as a voice of reason. Yes, Y/N would be that friend who would have been dateless if Jeonghan didn’t go. 

They all regret this strategy and think it was a terrible idea because it’s so painful to watch how Y/N and Jeonghan both avoid each others’ looks and drink too much. They have to cut dinner short to take both of them home to sleep it off. They make the decision that they can’t use forced proximity if alcohol is involved.

The third and fourth attempts present themselves back to back and it’s sheer luck. First, Jeonghan comes down with a cold. It knocks him on his ass for days and Seungcheol remembers that this idea was on the board at one point. He lets Y/N know that Jeonghan is really sick but Seungcheol has to go to class and can’t stay with him. He asks if she can drop in and check on him. She looks conflicted but hesitantly agrees. When Seungcheol comes home, Jeonghan’s trudging through the kitchen and Y/N is nowhere to be found. “Did you make soup?” Jeonghan asks as he looks into the pot on the stove top. It’s still warm.

Seungcheol tries not to look smug. “No, must have been Y/N. I asked her to stop by since I’d be gone for a while. Didn’t you see her?”

Jeonghan looks crestfallen. “No… she must have come by when I was asleep.” Despite saying he hadn’t had an appetite in days, Jeonghan has three servings of soup in one sitting and there’s something warm and relaxed about his expression when he’s done.

As luck would have it, the next week Y/N comes down with food poisoning. Vernon comes back from class and realizes Y/N had never left for her own classes because she’s too busy with her head over the toilet. Wonwoo says Mingyu is suffering from it as well since they ordered the same thing the night before. 

Knowing that Jeonghan is home, Vernon makes the same excuse that Seungcheol did. He has to go, but could Jeonghan check on her while he’s gone? Jeonghan hesitantly agrees. When Vernon comes back, he finds Jeonghan sitting on Y/N’s bathroom floor with her head in his lap. She seems to be asleep while he strokes her hair. He’s got his eyes closed too, head leaned back against the wall when Vernon knocks. 

Vernon asks if he needs anything, and even offers to help get her back to bed in case he’s itching to escape. Minseo had insisted that straight up trapping them was the absolute last resort. Jeonghan declines and says he’ll take care of it. Vernon doesn’t put his headphones in when he goes to bed, hoping to catch when Jeonghan leaves, but he falls asleep before that happens. 

It’s late when Jeonghan leads Y/N out of the bathroom with a hand on her back to steady her. He hasn’t said much to her since he came in a while ago. Just an ‘I got it’ when her hair keeps falling in her face as she vomits or a simple ‘here’ when he hands her a cup of water to rinse her mouth out at the sink. But she’d been sick more than once and the cycle repeated. The same holding back of her hair, the same gentle rubbing of her back, the same cup of water. When there couldn’t be anything left to make her sick, he sat in the floor beside her and pulled her to lay down. She’s not sure how long she slept but that’s where she woke up, his fingers combing through her sweaty hair. She’s so tired that she can’t even cry at the feeling or be embarrassed.

Jeonghan helped her into bed and Y/N tried to grab his hand when he turned away. “Are you leaving?” Her voice sounds terrible for so many reasons that she doesn’t want to think about much. Tonight is the closest he’s been since she dropped that mug in January. 

She’s so surprised when his lips turn up at the corners. “I’m just turning off the light.” She lets him go, and as promised, he comes back. Instead of laying down, he sits up against the headboard. His arm comes around her shoulders and she falls into him, head landing low on his chest. She’s afraid to talk because she doesn’t want to run him off. His hand rubs her arm up and down soothingly.

“Do you feel better?” He asks after a long time. He sounds sleepy. She thinks about Christmas break at his parents’ house when she hears it.

“Some. Thanks for coming to help me.” 

He hums and it vibrates under her ear. “I’ll always come help you.” 

“Really?” Y/N’s voice cracks weakly. She hopes he thinks it’s because she’s been sick, but he squeezes her arm like he knows it’s not that.

“Yeah. I meant it when I said I’d give you whatever you want.” 

This conversation is starting to feel like ripping open an old wound but she clings to him anyway. “Did you think I’d want space?”

“Don’t you?” He’s so soft when he says it. 

“No,” she answers quickly, then she hesitates. “Do you?” 

There are so many beats of silence that she loses count and then he mumbles, “No.” He lays his head on top of hers. 

“Maybe we’re not so good at scheming,” Y/N laughs, but it feels and sounds hollow.

A laugh rumbles in his chest under her ear but it actually sounds genuine, like he thinks of it fondly. “What are you talking about? Your plan was great.”

“I don’t know. Phase three was pretty weak.” 

He hums. “How so?” He pats her hair soothingly.

“I guess we never talked about what comes… after everything. We just stopped talking, stopped seeing each other entirely.” One hand is still on her head and his other hand finds her ring, spinning it as she talks. It spins and spins and spins and she thinks he might not have anything to say. So she tacks on, “If that’s what you want, I understand. I just… wish we’d talked about it first.”

More spinning. So much spinning that she’s becoming dizzy watching it. She almost misses it when he mumbles, “It’s not what I want. I thought it’s what you wanted.” 

“No, it’s not. I missed you.” It feels good to admit it. Jeonghan’s still spinning her ring, so she keeps talking. “We spent so much time together and then nothing. It’s been hard for me, Hannie.”

Both arms wrap around her now. “I missed you too. I haven’t been myself lately.”

Eventually, Y/N whispers, “How would you like to proceed?” She feels him smile into her hair. 

“Let’s start over.” It’s not a question and Y/N is elated. She sits up. He’s still smiling as he sticks out his hand. It makes her smile too at the familiarity of it all. They’ve done this before and they can do it again. She places her hand in his and shakes. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. Would you like to be friends?”

“I’m Jeonghan, your new best friend. Nice to meet you.”

The Y/N + Jeonghan group chat gets a text from Vernon first thing the next morning. ‘It worked!!! He’s still here!!! They’re eating breakfast together!!!!!’

Though very few recipients are together that early in the morning, there’s a lot of celebration. Soonyoung even gets the evil eye from his instructor because he received the text in class and let out a gasp. 

A minute later, Vernon sent a follow up text. “False alarm? They say they aren’t back together???”

Vernon doesn’t have a good explanation for their questions because he’s just as confused. They look just like they did late last semester, sitting at the table next to each other, talking, smiling. There are even small signs of affection. But when Vernon ‘jokingly’ asks if they’re finally rekindling their relationship, they both say no.

The following month is confusing. They’re just like they were before, but maybe even worse. They spend every waking moment together outside of class, Y/N’s work, and Jeonghan’s internship. They sleep over at each other’s apartments every night and are often found cuddling together. They start going to parties together again, but often sneak off for what they call a ‘little adventure’ and no one really knows what that means. They post each other on their social medias constantly. 

The first time around there was something almost shy about how they were around each other. Now, that was not the case. They acted like they wanted to crawl into each others’ skin most of the time. There was the usual stuff like hand holding in a crowd, or Jeonghan’s hand landing on Y/N's back or waist. Or when they sat next to each other on the couch or while they were out to eat, Jeonghan’s arm quickly came around her shoulders and sometimes Y/N’s hand landed on his thigh. 

Then there was what Minseo had identified as cuteness aggression. One time, Seungcheol witnessed Y/N showing up at their apartment in a very oversized hoodie, sweater paws and all. Jeonghan had cooed at her, squishing her cheeks and calling her ‘so fucking cute’. Another time, Jeonghan showed up at Y/N’s apartment with a new hair cut and Vernon witnessed Y/N squeal and grab his face while screaming about how good it looked. On both of these occasions, the person receiving the aggression would scoff and push the aggressor away with a blush. The aggressor would say, “You love me.” The person receiving the aggression would roll their eyes and say, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Then there were the looks. Distinctive from the looks of adoration that they’d give each other when the other wasn’t looking (which still happened all the time), these were dubbed the ‘mind reading’ looks. This usually resulted in pranks or cheating at whatever game they were playing with the group, but one particular time, Wonwoo was a victim of it. Like everyone in the Y/N + Jeonghan group chat, Wonwoo wanted answers. At dinner, he watches Jeonghan and Y/N pick things off each others’ plates and it makes him lose it. “Are you guys seriously not dating?”

Y/N and Jeonghan give identical looks, eyebrows raised in amusement, when someone asks them this. “No, why do you ask?” Y/N asks evenly. 

“You guys are grosser now than when you were fake dating. And I caught you guys having sex back then, so that’s saying something.”

A hush falls over the table because they’d all agreed to not let Y/N and Jeonghan know that their secret was out. However, it doesn’t seem to matter because Y/N and Jeonghan share one of those ‘mind reading’ looks for exactly one second before they turn back to Wonwoo and gaslight the shit out of him. Jeonghan just smiles and says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wonwoo. That would be crazy of us to do.”

And then there were the comments that gave the group whiplash. One day at dinner, Jeonghan is texting his family when he scoffs and turns to Y/N. “I think my mom likes you more than me.” 

Or when they were getting ready to go to a party and Vernon overhears Y/N getting ready in her room while Jeonghan hangs out. That’s not unusual, right down to changing in front of each other. Y/N laughs about a bad hair day and says she’s going to look like a hot mess tonight. Jeonghan laughs and says, “No, you’re just hot.”

The shamelessness of it all has the group in front of the whiteboard at Jihoon’s house multiple times throughout the month but they don't know what to do. Y/N and Jeonghan seemed so happy, maybe even happier than when they were ‘dating’. They batted around theories. Maybe it was because their friendship was genuine while their dating wasn’t. Maybe it was because they were just better off as friends. Or maybe they were actually dating for real and hiding it. 

That last theory has them desperately planning one final attempt because they want nothing more than to celebrate their friends being together and the idea of them hiding it now causes hysteria. They all schedule a last minute spring break trip to the beach and Y/N and Jeonghan easily agree. They even make the drive together and Seungkwan and Chan are forced to sit in the back while Y/N gets passenger princess and aux cord privileges. When they all arrive at the beach house and decide sleeping arrangements, Mingyu asks Y/N and Jeonghan if they’re okay with sharing a room. No one is surprised when they just shrug because they’ve slept in the same bed every night for over a month now. 

Throughout the trip, the group attempts to set up increasingly obvious romantic scenarios. They leave without waking them up in the morning, everyone tiptoeing out of the beach house so they can have a quiet morning to themselves. They basically sprint back from the pier or the restaurant down the block so that Y/N and Jeonghan have space as they walk slowly. When they grill out on the back deck at night, they intentionally play a slow song or two and are elated when Jeonghan pulls Y/N into a slow dance as they giggle. On their last night, they watch them sit on the beach together with Y/N leaning on Jeonghan’s shoulder as they watch the fireworks. 

In the car on the way back, Seungkwan asks if they’re finally getting back together and they say no. They seem to mean it, so the group decides that maybe its time to let this go. 

The Y/N + Jeonghan group chat has been silent for days since spring break when Joshua and Jeonghan hang out after class one day. Y/N is working which is probably the only reason Jeonghan agreed to meet. Joshua watches his friend closely. He does seem happy - the happiest Joshua thinks he’s ever seen him, really. Joshua doesn’t want to ruin the mood, but he really has to know because it’s beginning to drive him crazy. 

“Han, can I ask you something?” Joshua asks and Jeonghan hums. “Are you and Y/N really okay? As friends, I mean?”

“Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?” Jeonghan asks, but he seems kind of disinterested in the conversation, glancing between Joshua and his phone. Joshua’s sure he’s texting Y/N, because he always is when they’re apart. 

Joshua frowns, hesitating. “I mean, you said you were in love with her back in February. I just wondered if that’s still the case.”

Jeonghan looks up at Joshua for real this time, eyebrow raised. “When did I say that?”

“Valentine’s Day, apparently. I wasn’t there, but you had some things to say while you were drunk.”

Sliding his phone onto the table, Jeonghan slumps in his seat, arms crossed. He seems lost in thought. “Is that how you guys knew about the fake dating too?” Joshua nods in confirmation and Jeonghan hums, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. “Sounds like you guys might have been doing your own plotting. Don’t think I forgot about the triple date.”

Joshua chortles. “Yeah, we thought you two might figure that out. Look, I’m asking because if you’re happy with where things are at then we’ll back off. We’ve all instigated so much of this mess. We were just trying to fix it.”

Jeonghan’s still looking at the ceiling and he doesn’t answer for a long time, so long that Joshua wonders if he even heard him or if he’ll even answer. Finally, he sighs like he’s resigned himself to something. He sits up and looks Joshua in the eyes. “Of course, I’m still in love with her. More than I was before, even. And I’ll give her whatever she wants, but I think that’s just friends at this point.”

Joshua frowns. “Have you asked her what she wants? Maybe you’re misreading things.” Joshua’s certain he’s misreading things, actually. 

“I don’t know that I need to,” Jeonghan shrugs. “She’s the one that came up with this whole plan. I guess she could have just dated me if she wanted to do that for real. I would have said yes because I was already into her.”

Joshua gives an exasperated sigh, and Jeonghan just stares. “Can I be honest?” He doesn’t really wait for an answer. “We all think it was real. It might have started as fake and a lot of things were probably coordinated in the very beginning, but it seemed far too natural at some point. I mean, you guys looked so in love it was sickening, and that’s me saying that. You might be calling yourselves friends now like nothing happened but you still look at each other that way. Really, you’re even more shameless now as ‘friends’ than you were when you were ‘dating’.” 

Joshua puts his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes. He’d wanted to say all of this for so long that it feels like he’s bursting at the seams now. “I can’t watch you fall apart again the way you were earlier this year. You wouldn’t eat. You drank every night to go to sleep. You wouldn’t go out, wouldn’t talk. When we did see you it was like you weren’t really there.”

“That won’t happen again, especially if we just stay friends,” Jeonghan insisted. He’s apologized to his friends a few times about how he’d behaved in the first couple months of the year and for causing them to worry.

Joshua couldn’t help but scoff. “And what happens when she moves on and starts dating someone else? Can you stand watching that? Can you stand the idea of being at her wedding in five or ten years as a guest? Jeonghan, I want to believe you’d be okay, but I’m not so sure.”

“So what do I do then?” Jeonghan shakes his head helplessly and Joshua hates to see it. Like his fate is already sealed.

“It depends. What do you want? What would make you happy?” Joshua hesitates, but feels he has no choice but to add on, “Would you move on, too?”

Jeonghan closes his eyes. It takes him a long time to answer but finally he shakes his head. “She makes me happy and I can’t imagine moving on. I just don’t know how to get out of the friend zone that I’ve put myself in, even though it’s far better than nothing. Remember, I’m bad at dating. She was the one that was good at dating and I’m just good at being in love with her. And no, I don’t know if I’ll ever fully recover from this enough to move on.”

“No, you looked like an expert in dating. Still do actually,” Joshua laughed. “It’s the asking out that might need some work. Let us help you,” Joshua was practically begging. 

Jeonghan grimaced. “No offense, but you guys aren’t great at plotting. Everything you’ve done is pretty transparent. Besides, who’s ‘us’?” 

Joshua just grinned. “Are you free tonight?” 

When Jeonghan walks into Jihoon’s living room later that night, he didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t this. Everyone except for Y/N is here and they look very surprised to see him. He doesn’t respond to the questions because he’s too busy reading the whiteboard behind Minseo. He wants to laugh because some of the things that are written down are ridiculous, but he’s actually kind of touched and wonders how long they’ve been doing this. Despite the fact that their efforts were incredibly transparent, they’ve clearly been putting in a lot of work. 

“Scratch everything, I have a new plan,” Joshua announces. 

“And… that involves Jeonghan being here? No offense,” Junhui adds. 

Joshua gives a bit of an uncharacteristically evil laugh. “Yes.” He goes to the whiteboard, taking the eraser from Minseo. He gets rid of everything on the board and then writes ‘Hannie confesses to Y/N’ at the top. Jeonghan groans and almost turns to leave. 

“Joshua, when you said you’d help me, I didn’t think this was what you meant,” Jeonghan gestures to the crowded room. 

“Just trust the process! We’re going to make this work.” Joshua sounds so sure. Jeonghan frowns, looking around the room. They all look hopeful, honestly. Even Y/N’s friends that didn’t really like him. Seungkwan and Soonyoung separate to make room for him on the couch. 

He thinks of what things are like with Y/N now, and even what they were like when it was fake. It makes his chest ache. Because Joshua was right earlier. Not all of it was fake, certainly not near the end. And he’s being driven by the same emotions now as friends. He wonders if it ever really was fake for him. Maybe he could have just asked her out at the diner that night instead of hatching their plan. Maybe she would have just said yes back then. 

He swallows hard. His pride is what got him into this mess, but now he’d have to put it aside if any of these people could help him. He walked to the couch and took a seat. 

It turns out that all of their friends are hopeless romantics. Jeonghan watches as they practically fight over the markers to write their ideas, and those that won’t fight over the markers just start yelling out ideas so someone else can write it down. It’s totally overwhelming the amount of choices he’s being given and Minseo frowns at him when he stares at the board blankly. “Jeonghan, you can’t overthink this. It has to feel natural, so some of this might not work for you and that’s okay,” Minseo says, trying to ease his tension. 

Instead, he laughs. Laughs because Y/N had told him over and over again in the beginning that it had to be natural. Laughs at the absurdity of all of their ideas and how he’d actually do any of it if he thought it would work. 

Then comes the crisis intervention because they must think he’s losing it. Someone takes a picture of the board and then Minseo erases it so they can organize it better. They’re so meticulous about all of this that Jeonghan is kind of perplexed by how none of their other plans worked if this kind of energy went into it. They organize the chaotic list into date ideas, affection, romantic gestures, gifts, and domestic activities. They even argue about what something should be categorized as. For instance, Jihoon thinks flowers are gifts and Junhui thinks it’s just a romantic gesture and doesn’t really count as a gift. 

Then they start asking him what he thinks. His mind is shockingly empty. He kind of expects them to laugh at him when he admits he doesn’t know, particularly Seungcheol and Mingyu who would have enjoyed this type of thing so much before, but instead they frown and start suggesting things even though they’re already on the board and he’s already read it. Buy her flowers. Take her on a date. Buy her a gift (this restarts Jihoon and Junhui’s argument all over again). Write her a love note. Vernon says he should just kiss her and get this over with. Jeonghan shakes his head, though he’s definitely thought about it already, far before he walked into Jihoon’s house tonight.

Ultimately, they give him the list and tell him to do what feels right. They also say that they’ll assist in anyway they can. They add him to a group chat so he can update them and he can’t help but scoff at the name of the group chat when he sees it. 

His mind is racing when he, Seungcheol, and Vernon meet Y/N at the entrance to their apartment complex. She’s just gotten home from work and she smiles, asking how their night was. Jeonghan blindly follows her into her apartment and into her room. He blindly changes clothes, which he’s started keeping here, and gets into bed with her. He barely even glances at her as she changes too, getting ready for bed.

“Something on your mind?” Y/N asks from her pillow. 

Jeonghan does what he calls his best ‘old Y/N’ impression and hopes it’s convincing. “No, I’m good. Just tired I guess.”

“What did you guys get into tonight? Anything fun?” Y/N’s voice is light, but he can tell she wants to prod.

“Just hung out at Jihoon’s, nothing crazy.” What a lie. It left a gross taste in his mouth because not once had he ever lied to her like that, but he wasn’t ready to admit how he’d spent his night. Maybe if all of this worked out, they could laugh about it one day.

Y/N hums, stares through him for a moment, and then finally smiles as she closes her eyes. “Fine, keep your secrets for now.” Jeonghan scoffs, pulling her into him. 

“Nothing bad, I promise.” He’s not really sure if that’s the whole truth either, but he kisses the top of her head anyway. She falls asleep long before him and he sees the whiteboard filled with rainbow hand writing every time he tries to close his eyes. 

Jeonghan is starting to feel the pressure. It’s been nearly a month since that night at Jihoon’s with the whiteboard and graduation is approaching in a matter of two weeks. For some reason, he’d set this as a soft deadline for this little plan to be completed, whether or not it worked in his favor. He’d crossed off a lot of things from the listtheir friends had put together, and even some of his own when the opportunities had presented themselves, with little results.

One Saturday, they both were itching to get out of the house. Y/N had suggested they go to the park and get some sun. Jeonghan had offered to pack up some food for a picnic while they were there. While Y/N showered and got ready, Jeonghan asked the group chat if picnics were considered romantic. The overwhelming reaction was yes, accompanied by hearts and exclamation points, and even a voice message from Soonyoung of him screaming (or maybe sobbing, but Jeonghan couldn’t be sure). So Jeonghan took great care with what he put together while he gave himself a little pep talk. Most of it went out of the window when Y/N came into the kitchen in a sun dress, turning around to ask if he could help her zip it up. His heart pounded as he did it and he was thankful that she was too busy eyeing the food to notice whatever expression he was wearing. The day was nice, but he was a nervous wreck the whole time. She looked too pretty as she laid down in the grass and he felt like a teenager. It wasn’t the right time. 

On Wednesday night, they planned to have a movie night at his apartment. She was wearing his hoodie as she curled up on the couch next to him. He didn’t think much about it when he pulled her feet into his lap and started rubbing them. She sighed and sagged into the couch like she could fall asleep. Seungcheol came in and spotted them, and the excited look on his face told him that Jeonghan might be doing something right, even if he hadn’t realized it.  Before he could work up the courage to say anything, she was already asleep. 

On Friday night, Jeonghan’s new lego set comes in and he can’t wait to put it together. He’d already told Y/N how excited he was for it to arrive, but he was even more excited when she showed up at his apartment that night with things to make dinner, saying that they could put it together afterwards. He was so distracted that she had to guide him through a lot of the instructions. 

On Saturday, they’re at a book store because Y/N is itching to pick up a few new things. He patiently follows her around the store, letting her add books to the growing stack in his arms. While in line to check out, they look at the knick knacks near the register. He hears Y/N giggle and she points to a set of matching bracelets, one with a sun and one with a moon on it. “Wouldn’t that be cheesy?” She says, but her eyes are gleaming with something really special that makes Jeonghan’s heart skip a beat. 

“Yeah, about as cheesy as your ring,” Jeonghan chuckles. She looks at it for a moment too long and he finds himself saying, “Get them. I’ll wear the sun one.”

She gives him a playful look. “What if I wanted the sun?” 

“Then you get the sun. Go on,” he insists, nodding his head at them. She picks up the bracelets, not needing anymore convincing. At the register, the employee comments on how cute they are together. Jeonghan beams when Y/N doesn’t correct her. 

The following Wednesday, Jeonghan is at his internship at the law office. It’s pretty mindless stuff, shuffling papers around and taking a few phone calls here and there, so he spends a lot of his time texting Y/N throughout the day. He’s surprised when she tells him she won’t be going to class. It’s unlike her and he’s immediately a little concerned. Finally, she admits that she’s not feeling good because she’s on her period. He almost texts the group chat to ask for advice, but at the last minute he changes his mind and texts his sister. 

So on the way home, he calls her and asks if she needs anything. After some prodding, she hesitantly asks for tampons. He immediately recognizes this as the Most Boyfriend Task he’s ever been given and promptly asks her to send him what she needs. When he shows up with tampons in addition to some flowers and a slice of cake from the bakery, she cries. This night turns into the Most Boyfriend kind of night as he makes her dinner, throws a load of laundry in that she meant to do earlier, and cuddles her on the couch with a heating pad. 

When she’s just about asleep, he hears her say, “thanks for taking care of me.”

It’s a no brainer to say, “you don’t have to thank me. It’s what you deserve.”

She snuggles deeper into his chest. “You’d make a great boyfriend, Yoon Jeonghan.”

He finds himself laughing. “That’s all thanks to you. You’re a great teacher.” 

She giggles in his chest sleepily. “I don’t remember this lesson. You came by this naturally it seems.” He’s relieved that they can make references to how all this started without any awkwardness. 

He feels like this might be the right time, but it takes too long to give himself a little pep talk. When he calls her name out, she doesn’t respond, clearly asleep. He sighs, kissing her head. 

Then suddenly it’s dead week, and then it’s finals week, and everyone is so stressed by the end of the semester that now is certainly not a good time. He’s not stressed about that. He’s stressed about the whiteboard in front of him. Jihoon was kind of confused when he showed up unannounced but let him in anyway. He can feel Jihoon’s eyes on him as he stares at the board. 

“No luck yet, I take it?” He asks gently and it makes Jeonghan want to put his head in his hands. 

“No, it’s never felt like the right time.” 

Jihoon is quiet for a long time, looking at the board with him. So many things are crossed off. “Maybe there isn’t a such thing as a right time? Maybe you just need to say it.”

Jeonghan chuckles, but there’s a tinge of darkness to it. “What? Just say ‘I love you, Y/N. I’d like to date for real this time’?” He frowns when Jihoon shrugs. 

“It’s a good ideas as any. You’ve been dropping hints for a while now. Maybe hints won’t work.”

“How would I even do that? What setting could possibly be fitting for something like that?” Jeonghan sighs in exasperation. There had been so many seemingly romantic opportunities and nothing had felt right. 

Eventually, Jihoon hummed. “How do you and Y/N feel about heights?” 

Jeonghan’s snapped to Jihoon. “What?”

“I have an idea, but you’ll have to trust me.” 

Jeonghan was feeling pretty desperate so what did he have to lose. 

Finals week is over and graduation was on Saturday. It felt like a whirlwind for Y/N to finally have a degree in hand, one that her parents had never been convinced she could get on her own without their support. If she’d listened to them four years ago, she would be abroad at some prestigious university that her parents had donated heavily to change her acceptance status for. She would be preparing for med school, or law school, or something equally prestigious to fit the family dynamic. Something that her father can brag about in between business meetings or her mother can rub in other rich ladies’ faces about while getting drinks at the country club. She’d kind of expected that her parents might show up for graduation. As a sort of olive branch, she’d sent them an invitation for it. But they hadn’t shown up and that was just as well. Being disinherited and disowned was okay too. 

Instead, she’d been staring at her stupid English degree that she paid for by herself in the apartment that she’d paid rent for without access to the trust fund that had her name on it but had never had access to. And this apartment would remain hers for a while longer because she’d already applied and been accepted to the grad program of her choice at this very university and she and Vernon were renewing their lease. 

Things are good. Better than they’d ever been, really. 

She’s still looking at her degree when there’s a knock on her open bedroom door. Lee Seokmin is standing there. He’d come in for the graduation, but Y/N kind of expected not to see him again before he left. He looks a little nervous, but he comes to stand next to her and look down at her degree too. 

After a long moment, he finally speaks. “I’m proud of you, you know?” Y/N stares up at him while he admires the diploma. It’s the first thing he’s said directly to her since that day in the cafe with Jeonghan last November. “I remember how nervous you were when we started here. Worried about money. Worried about classes. Burning yourself at both ends to make it work. I worried about you a lot back then. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to see all of it work out until now.”

“Are you?” Y/N hopes the question doesn’t sound unkind, but she’s confused. She remembers how he was when he broke up with her. It was awkward, but in a way it was also unapologetic. That’s what had hurt the most about it. Nothing she had said back then seemed to change his mind. 

“I deserve that,” Seokmin chuckles, looking a little embarrassed as he rubs the back of his neck. “But yes. I am sorry - for a lot of things really, more than just that.”

“Do you regret it?” She means the break up, but she doesn’t specify in case there’s something else. This is a wound that’s barely closed. She doesn’t want him back, wouldn’t even entertain the idea if he asked, but this conversation has been put off for long enough and it’s time for some healing while he’s brave enough to approach her. 

Seokmin still won’t look at her. “Yes and no. No, because I really needed to take that role. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. But yes in just about every other way.”

“What about Minnie?” Her question is still not unkind, just curious. 

Seokmin laughs, finally looking at her. “It didn’t work out, which is total karma for how I left things with you.”

Y/N frowns. Despite being upset at how he’d moved on so fast, she’d never wished him any ill will. She couldn’t after all the times he’d had her back over the years. “I’m sorry, Seokmin. That sucks.”

He shrugs with a relaxed smile. “It’s okay. It’s kind of awkward to work with her now, but that’s temporary.” He chuckles again, looking around her room now. “You know, when she found out I was coming to visit, she accused me of wanting to get back together with you.”

This gave Y/N pause. This was a part of the conversation she’d kind of hoped to avoid. “And… is that why you stopped by?”

“No,” Seokmin shakes his head. “I lost my one chance. I’ve just been too big of a coward to give you a real apology, which you deserve, so here it goes.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I threw our whole relationship out like that. I regretted it as soon as I was on the plane. I’m sorry I started dating just like that. And I’m sorry that little secret made it seem like our friends were picking sides.” She must have looked surprised because he smiles at her shyly. “I’ve been caught up on some things. Fake dating, huh?”

Y/N scoffs, but it’s not entirely humorless. “You guys are such gossips.”

“Yeah, we are,” Seokmin laughed and she’d kind of missed how joyful he was. He’d always been such a mood maker. Then his expression turns serious. “Can I ask how things are going there? With Jeonghan, I mean. You guys seem close.”

Y/N isn't sure how to answer. She plops down on the edge of her bed. “That’s a good question.”

“I’m a good listener. Maybe I can help.” That much is true. Seokmin has always been a great person to unload your worries on. It’s one of the things that made her let her guard down all those years ago, even though everything else in her life was bad at that time. When she doesn’t kick him out immediately, he rolls out her desk chair and sits to face her. 

Y/N spins her ring, staring down at it when the sunlight catches it. “I love him. I’ve been in love with him for a long time, I think. It’s never been like this with anyone, but we’ve made such a mess of things. But now things are good. He’s the best friend I could ever ask for. I don’t want to run him off.”

Seokmin shakes his head, chuckling. “I don’t think it’s possible to run him off. Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“I don’t think he’d be open to it. I mean, this is the man that agreed to fake date me after he lost a bet. He’s opened up so much since then, I don’t want him to slam the door in my face if I ask for something too serious.”

“Y/N, can I be honest?” Y/N looks up at him and he’s so serious. “I’ve been hearing about you guys all semester. How love sick you were and how gross you guys are now despite not being together. And I saw what they meant yesterday at the graduation and dinner after. You guys look like you’re dating already. I mean the way he looks at you is like you hung the stars. And I know that look well because I used to wear it all the time.” 

Y/N spins her ring some more, looking at him blankly. “So what do I do? You know I’m so bad at letting people in like that. I mean, it took years for me to say ‘I love you’ back when we were together. And I’m just supposed to say it out of the blue now?”

“But you’ve already let him in, more than you ever let me in from what I hear.” There’s no bitterness in Seokmin’s words. “He matches your intellect, he makes you laugh, and he gets you in ways that I only wished I could. I’m kind of surprised to say it but Yoon Jeonghan is kind of the perfect match for you.”

“Yeah, it does feel that way,” Y/N mumbled. 

Seokmin pats her knee a couple times and it’s entirely friendly and comforting. “Stop overthinking it. All you have to do is ask him and he’d say yes.”

“How do you know that?” Y/N’s mind is flashing to all of the times that Jeonghan said he’d give her whatever she wanted. It had never occurred to her that he really meant anything literally. 

Now Seokmin is full on laughing. “Because everyone does. There’s a whole whiteboard about it apparently. Seriously, stop overthinking it. You’ll be happier for it. Trust me, I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.” He gets up and leaves, but Y/N is frozen in place. 

Jeonghan wanders into Y/N’s bathroom midday to find her doing her makeup. She smiles at him as he sits on the closed toilet seat to keep her company. He thinks she looks really pretty in a little white sundress and her hair is already lightly curled. She doesn’t dress up like this much, particularly without all the grunge or black, and he wonders why she’s putting so much effort in for the fair tonight. He doesn’t ask because he doesn’t want to make it sound like he doesn’t like it or make her feel self-conscious about it. He loves anything she does. 

Instead, he watches her put mascara on with comically wide eyes and smiles. “You look pretty.”

She flashes him a smile that could stop his heart and then goes back to the mascara. “Thanks. You look nice too.” He doesn’t believe it because he’s just picked some jeans and a t-shirt, but he thanks her anyway. She’s unusually quiet, and it occurs to him how funny it is that he finds it odd. Last semester he was sometimes surprised if she even so much as looked at him, but now he’s come to expect her usual chatter. 

“Doing okay?” He wonders what it could be about. She’d had a stressful last two weeks cranking out final assignments and stressing about the grade she’d get. Jeonghan had talked her off the ledge multiple times because she nearly had a 4.0 and was already accepted into her grad program anyway. She could relax because she was already set up for success.

He also hadn’t missed the way she looked around the crowd outside of the stadium where the graduation was held yesterday. He didn’t have to ask who she was looking for because all of their friends were already there. He’d seen that she’d sent her parents an invitation, but they’d never graced her with their presence, or even responded to her message. 

Jeonghan thinks his family may have made up for it. Despite the news of their ‘break up’ after New Years, they’d greeted her warmly and even brought her flowers. Jeonghan wasn’t sure how they’d known she wouldn’t be receiving any from her own parents, but he didn’t ask. Maybe things were more transparent back around Christmas break than he’d thought. It had made her happy anyway.

Y/N sighs. “Yeah, it’s just the first time I feel like I could relax in a while.”

“Yeah, I was beginning to worry about you,” Jeonghan teased though it was entirely true. He didn’t like to see her stressed and had mindlessly picked up things like cooking, cleaning, and laundry in the midst of her panic. Since he couldn’t talk her into taking a break, he picked up other things she was neglecting and worrying about catching up on later.

“Thanks for picking up my slack again. Boyfriend material yet again. No! Husband material even,” she teases as she puts on blush now. He thinks maybe he sees a tinge of pink right before the brush actually touches her cheek, but he can’t be sure. 

But it doesn’t matter because he’s trying to remember how to breathe. Her boyfriend material comments have become frequent, but the word ‘husband’ absolutely floors him. The old Jeonghan would be running the other way now thinking he’d be a bachelor forever, but he finds a little thrill in the idea of the title. 

Or a big thrill, if he’s being honest. But only if she’s the one saying it and it has ‘my’ in front of it. 

He fiddles with his rings to distract himself. “Just doing what you deserve. I don’t mind taking care of those things if it makes things easier for you. Besides, we can relax tonight. We’ll get some food, play some games, ride some rides.”

“You don’t want to ride any rides, Hannie,” Y/N teases. 

It’s true, it’s not his favorite thing. But he remembers how her eyes lit up when Jihoon had mentioned the fair. The look was so childlike and pure that, once again, Jeonghan would do whatever she asked if she kept looking like that. Even if it made him nauseous. 

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll go with you anyway.” 

The blush is a little brighter all of the sudden, but she shakes her head. He thinks she’s trying to look busy because her make up seems done. “If you puke on my shoes, I’ll be mad, Yoon Jeonghan.”

He barks a laugh, standing up to place a hand on her back and push her out of the bathroom. “That’s Chan’s job but I’ll let him know.” 

Jeonghan is shockingly relaxed considering where he thinks this night will end up. He and Y/N are the last of their friends to show up and the group has been impatiently waiting by the entrance to go in. Once inside, they go straight to the most aggressive rides because Mingyu insists that they front load all of these before they eat. Jeonghan suffers through all of the spinning and jostling and flipping, complaining that there’s no way all of these are up to code. But every time Y/N laughs at him and drags him by the hand to the next one. 

Finally, back on the ground, Y/N and Jeonghan share a funnel cake. When she brushes powdered sugar off his cheek, he can practically feel the heart eyes he’s wearing. She doesn’t say anything about it. 

Then, they play some of the games offered at the stands around the fair. Jeonghan is pleasantly surprised when he actually wins at ring toss and let’s Y/N pick what she wants. She picks a small plushie, a glittery pink unicorn, and Jeonghan just laughs as his chest warms. 

It’s dark now and he keeps looking at her as they stand in line for the Ferris wheel. The bright, flashing lights from all the rides around them lights up her face every now and then and he thinks this whole idea is so fucking cheesy. But oddly it feels right this time. 

As he helps Y/N slide into the seat of the carriage, Jeonghan spots Jihoon whispering to the fair employee that’s running the ride. Jihoon puts something in his hand and when he turns he gives Jeonghan a not-so-subtle thumbs up. So that’s what Jihoon meant when he said he’d take care of it. He’s buying him time. 

The ride spins slowly and the view is nice, but he’s distracted. He’s rehearsed what he wants to say over and over again with Jihoon an embarrassing amount of times but his tongue feels thick now. But he doesn’t know how much time he actually has up here, so he sucks in a breath and puts his hand on her thigh to get her attention. 

Her head snaps to his and after a split second her hand lands on top of his. Her eyes are concerned. “Feel okay?”

Another deep breath, like he’s jumping off a cliff. “I love you.” The words roll off easier than he expected and he watches her eyes flare in surprise, mouth popping open a bit. He needs to talk fast now. “I have for a while now I think. I needed to say something because it was going to eat me alive.” She’s still quiet and she’s looking right through him. For the first time, she looks really surprised at what she sees. Jeonghan flips his hand from her thigh and she lets him thread their fingers together. “I don’t know how you feel about that, but I need you to know I’m okay with whatever you decide. Even if it’s just friends. Even if it’s less than that.”

She’s silent. It hangs heavy for so long that he starts to spin her ring. He thinks she’s trying to think a way to let him down gently. That she’s planning to leap out of the carriage as soon as it stops near the ground. That everyone that’s helped him at that damned whiteboard has misled him or had it all wrong. 

Jeonghan thinks of all the opportunities she’d given him to back out of their little scheme. He thinks the words are fitting. So he smiles nervously. “So how would you like to proceed?”

Her eyes are watering as she pulls her hand away. This is it, he assumes. 

But just when he is preparing to be crushed, her hands come around his face and she’s leaning in. The kiss is soft and he doesn’t know how to react. Didn’t expect this. Slowly, his hand comes around her waist and the other holds the side of her head. 

When she pulls away to look at him she laughs. “Yoon Jeonghan, did you think I wouldn’t return your feelings?” 

“Yes, I’m sure of it. That’s not the case?” Jeonghan feels like he could pass out because no matter what kind of pep talk he or anyone else gave him, this is not how he expected this to be going. 

She laughs again. “No, it’s not the case at all. I love you too. Very in love with you in fact.”

Jeonghan feels his jaw drop a bit. “Since when?”

“I was sure of it by Christmas. You?” She asks, her hand sliding down to his chest. He’s sure she can feel his heart pound. 

Jeonghan laughs. “Same. We’re idiots, huh?”

“Yeah, you could say that. I told you phase three was weak, but I’m wondering if the whole thing was weak now.”

Their friends are cheering when their carriage stops at the ground and they’re still kissing. Y/N looks shocked at the excitement. “Have I missed something?” She asks after they’re both out of the carriage with feet on the ground again. 

“Maybe a little,” Jeonghan teases. 

Epilogue 

Y/N peers through the sheer white veil, a bouquet clutched tightly in her hands. She frowns. 

It’s because Jeonghan is laughing at her. “This feels like deja vu a little bit, Y/N.” 

“Why are you picking on me on today of all days?” Y/N whines, hand falling to her sides, petals falling to the floor as the bouquet hits her thigh. “You know it’s been a stressful day. Stressful week, even!”

Jeonghan’s laughing again as he steps closer. His hands lift the veil and he places a soft kiss on her lips. No one’s looking at them this time around. “I know, I’m sorry. There are just some good memories like this. I saw her put the veil on you after you caught the bouquet.” 

“I told her I was already married. I shouldn’t be the one with any of this,” Y/N grumbled, gesturing to the bouquet and veil. 

“You’re the maid of honor, you have to do whatever she says,” Jeonghan reminds her, putting a hand around her waist to pull her close. “How are your feet? And your back?” 

“Not great. I’m ready to crash,” Y/N slumps against him, trying not to get make up on his dress shirt. He’s lost the suit jacket hours ago and his tie is loosened. The whole look makes Y/N salivate a little. Instead she says, “I want some champagne.” 

“I know, baby,” he soothes, patting the top of her head. The DJ comes to the mic before he can say anything else. 

“It’s time for the bride and groom to cut the cake! Please gather around.”

Y/N and Jeonghan turn, mostly with Jeonghan’s help, to find the happy couple standing behind a tiered cake decorated with white and pink frosting. Minseo would not consider any other color schemes. It had to match the bridesmaids dresses after all. 

Y/N watches Minseo look up at her new husband, a finger wagging at him as she scolds him. He smiles good-naturedly, nodding along with her. She’s surely warning him to not shove cake in her face. Y/N doesn’t think Mingyu will. He’s too soft for Minseo.

“Weird, isn’t it?” She finds herself mumbling into Jeonghan’s ear

He giggles in her ear. “You could say that, yeah. Didn’t think I’d be at Kim Mingyu’s wedding anytime soon. Or at all if I’m honest.” They don’t say anything else as they watch the newlyweds cut the cake and share a bite, clapping loudly. Minseo looks pleased that she doesn’t have cake all over her face.

As soon as the crowd begins to disperse, Jeonghan is leading her to a seat and she drops into it, kicking off her heels under the table. “Better?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, hands coming to her shoulders to rub gently. 

“Yeah. What would I do without you?” Y/N giggles. 

“Hey, that’s my line!” Jeonghan teases. 

Seungcheol approaches them with a wide grin and a plate in each hand. He hands one to Jeonghan and slides one to Y/N. She immediately notices that there are two slices and she looks up at him questioningly. Seungcheol laughs. “I know the rule by now. One for you, one for the baby.” He walks away without another word.

Jeonghan is chuckling as he sits down next to Y/N. “That is your rule now. Has been for a while now.”

Y/N places one hand on her stomach and picks up the fork with the other. “This baby is a parasite,” she jokes. Jeonghan knows it’s meant in jest so he just shakes his head. 

“I know. I feed your cravings daily, remember? That baby has some strange tastes already.” He lets her finish her cake and when she sits back in her seat, his hand lands on top of hers on her stomach, feeling her matching wedding ring underneath his fingers. “You know, Minseo will forgive you if you’re done for the night. The other bridesmaids aren’t six months pregnant and can handle it just fine.”

Y/N pouts, glancing over to the head table where Minseo and Mingyu are whispering between kisses. She looks back at her husband. “Maybe we can just sit here for a while?”

Jeonghan leans over to kiss her lips and it feels and tastes sweet. “Whatever you want, baby.”

[mx-pastelwriting]

Dark Eyes

Carlisle Cullen x GN! Reader

Summary: Coming home from a trip to your dark eyed lover.

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, Carlisle hungry, Black (Hungry) eyes, Worry, Talk of starvation, Light Angst

The warm afternoon blew through the open windows of the car as you drove through the familiar woods, turning as the roads came into view of your windowed home.

Feeling refreshed at the sight, you pull into the driveway slowly. Stepping out of the car, you see Carlisle standing on the stone path. Quickly, you grab your things from the back before walking up and wrapping your arms around him.

Doing the same, though his being tighter, rocking you in his arms giving a kiss to the side of your head. "I missed you," he whispered, remembering how hard it was for him. Being his mate, you didn't feel the effects as much as he did as a human, breaking away from his chest while still in his arms as you looked up at him.

Gazing into the black eyes of your lover, frowning at the unfamiliar sight, makes him take notice. "My absences stresses you that much," you say before he has an excuse for not needing to worry; he had nothing to say, only letting you look at him in his starved state. As you looked over him, the afternoon sun made his skin glow, making you miss his amber eyes, how they contrasted with his blond hair, which brought warmth to you.

"I’ll go out after you get settled," he says softly, taking your bag from your hand. No matter how graceful he was in the moment, he was avoiding your worry. Walking into your home, follow him up the stairs to your bedroom, watching as he sets your bag down on your shared bed before working on putting things away.

"You don't have to do that," you say behind him, but he persists, stopping his hand with a simple touch. Looking at you with a smile as soft as ever, though his eyes told a different story, how they looked with erraticity, the feeling of fault crept in you of how he suffered from you only simply leaving for a few nights.

"Don't look at me with those eyes; go hunt; I'll be here." You reassure him, seeing as his stone-like body relaxes, he nods with a tight smile. Disappearing before your eyes, you take his spot, unloading what was left from his stressed unpacking of your bag. You zip up your bag then throwing it to the floor, watching as nightfall came shortly after with the hope he would stay out there, gaining his strength back as he would need it for tonight.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

[justwinginglife]

The Waiting Game

The line between friends and lovers is dangerously thin and Soshiro Hoshina likes to fucking cartwheel down that tightrope like it's his personal plaything.

Any stranger walking by could see he was clearly checking you out, but if asked, he'd simply shrug and say something about how it was his duty as your friend to make sure your fly was zipped or your socks were matching. He never thought to make himself less obvious as he took in the sight of your shirt that dangled just a little too low or your pants that hugged your curves just a little too tight. He didn't have to. If you claimed to notice his wandering gaze, you'd be setting yourself up for a witty rebuttal. He might say, "Oh, look who's paying so much attention to me, if I didn't know better, I'd say you liked me," or even, "Don't go telling me you didn't wear those clothes on purpose, we both know the truth." He had all sorts of banter at the ready, quips locked and loaded. He wanted to corner you, to checkmate you, to coax a confession from your supple lips. Of course he loved you. But it was much more fun to make you admit you loved him too.

And you did. You wore that shirt on purpose, you wore those pants on purpose. You bent over in those pants on purpose. But two could play at this game, and you were awfully good at chess.

If he was a tightrope walker, you were a sword swallower. You could take anything he'd throw at you, gulp it down, lick your lips, and have room for seconds. Maybe throw in a burp for good measure.

So the circus act continued, both of you juggling offense and defense, both of you thinking yourself the lion tamer. It was anyone's guess at this point, who would cave in first.

You pictured the two of you on your deathbeds, your hands wrinkled with age, still trying to wring a confession from each other's throats. It was honestly a terrifying notion, thinking that eighty years from now, your feelings might accompany you to the grave, unvoiced, unreciprocated. But it hadn't been eighty years yet, it had only been one, and your pride was still in prime condition, even despite Soshiro's attempts to wear it down.

When he bragged to you about his hot date, eager for your reaction, you simply pointed him to your favorite flower shop and told him what to buy her. When he ended up not going through with it because some mysterious illness overtook him, an illness that only lasted the length of what would have been the date, you simply smirked and remarked on how convenient it was that his condition was so particular. He had shrugged, saying, "Maybe I was allergic to her, who knows?" You had laughed and he had smiled. Then you both went about your usual day, stealing time from each other whenever you could, sneaking glances, subtly inching closer, the distance both an inch and a galaxy apart.

The gap only widened when Captain Ashiro relayed to the Third Division news of the Winter Ball. It was like prom for soldiers, and when you heard the announcement, you felt like you were right back in high school- everything infamously familiar, right down to the nerves that threatened to swallow you whole.

You could always pull the, "You're single, I'm single, let's go as friends," card. But you weren't sure that either of you would be content with that resolution. Neither one of you wanted to resign yourselves to a night of awkwardly sitting at a side table, using small talk to fill the simmering silence, as you watched other couples slow dance their way into oblivion.

But unfortunately for the both of you, rather than declare a draw, your little game with each other continued, even as the event drew nearer. You'd ask him who he was going with, feigning nonchalance, and he'd dodge the question, feigning ignorance.

At some point, you bought yourself a dress, though you had no idea why. There was only a week to go, and still, no one had asked you for the pleasure of your company on that night, not even him. You weren't sure you should even go. But still, you let your hopes drape from a hanger in your closet, in case maybe he decided to overturn the chessboard, throw the match, ask you out.

Narumi beat him to the punch.

When you asked him why he was asking you so late in the game, he merely shrugged, saying he hadn't realized the ball was happening in the first place, but now he knew and he wanted you.

Soshiro had caught wind of it.

He ignored you until an hour before the dance.

He knew you liked to hide on the roof when you got nervous, and as he climbed the stairs to the top, he begged you to be there. He hoped you were having second thoughts about going with Narumi. He hoped you were pacing in your dress, waiting for him to whisk you away, because he was ready to whisk you away. He had dragged his feet through this whole fucking charade, and now he suddenly found his own pace too exceedingly, disgustingly slow for his liking.

When he got to the roof, all that awaited him was a cold breeze and the night sky. He collapsed on the floor, leaning back to take in all the stars. He didn't care anymore if he got his suit dirty, he only wore it for you anyway. His finger traced patterns of constellations as the white of his breath stained the air. He wished on every single star that he could see you tonight, all dressed up and gorgeous. He didn't have to see you to know you looked stunning. But he had planned to go home after he finished this sulking session. He didn't want to see how happy you looked with Narumi. Of all the people, why did it have to be him? The idea of you with anyone else but him made him ache, but the idea of you with Narumi made him want to tie a noose around his neck.

Another half hour of brooding later, he decided he needed to go home. That, or freeze to death, which would serve him right. But he turned towards the door and suddenly, there you were, his light in the dark, his warmth in the cold. And you were dazzling. He knew you would be. You always were, no matter what you were wearing.

"Y-you're here."

You nodded. "I'm here. And you're here. Why are you here?"

He pulled his jacket tighter around him. "This is your spot."

You raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is. Were you looking for me?" You tried to keep the hopefulness out of your voice, but it seeped into the frosty air all the same.

He fidgeted with his cufflinks, nodding slowly.

You began walking over to him, and he knew you were going to sit down so he quickly took his jacket off for you to sit on. He didn't want to ruin your dress.

You shook your head at him. "You look freezing, put your jacket back on. How long have you been out here anyway?" You threw his jacket back around his shoulders, plopping down next to him, unbothered by your dress.

He blushed and looked away. "That's not important."

The silence resumed.

"It's your favorite color." You blurted out suddenly, desperate to fill the air with something, with anything.

He immediately knew you meant your dress. He had noticed. "It's nice."

You coughed.

He chuckled. "Alright, it's more than nice. You look breathtaking. Seriously, I'm having trouble breathing with you so close to me." He teased as he nudged you with his shoulder, trying to make light of the awkward situation.

"You don't look so bad yourself. Even for someone who's half frozen to death. So why were you looking for me?"

He bit his lip. "Had a, uh, question... for you."

You settled your head on his shoulder and you felt him tense up. "And what's this question of yours that's so important you almost gave yourself frostbite?"

"Will you.... will you go to the dance with me?" He held his breath as the words left his mouth.

You laughed. "Little late, don't you think? We're about a half hour away from it."

He groaned. "I know, I know. But don't go with Narumi. Please don't. He wouldn't know romance if it shit in his lap. He doesn't know how to treat a woman."

You smirked. "And you do?"

He looked at you properly for the first time that night, his gaze locked on yours with a sudden sense of determination. "Yes, I do. If that woman is you. I know everything about you. I have to. Knowing you is the second greatest pleasure of my life."

"And..." The words caught in your throat, "And what's the first?"

"Loving you."

Your heart soared in your chest. "I love you too."

"So will you be my date to the dance? And the rest of my life?"

You kissed him in response.

Suddenly the cold faded from your bodies, the frigid air rescinding itself from your lungs, as your warmth intermingled in a display of passion.

"So, what should I call this, checkmate?" You teased him as you pulled away from his lips, leaving him wanting more.

He rolled his eyes but nothing could make him less smitten than he was right now. "I call this me throwing the match."

"Well, better late than never, baby."

You kissed him again.

And then the both of you danced the rest of the night into oblivion together.

[leviathanleva]

Daisy

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader [DARK FIC]

Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

........................

[5.3k words]

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 5 "The Coat"

“Get away. Get away! Get away!”

As if the radroach could fucking understand you…

You were perched up several feet above the floor, clinging to a boarded-up window so desperately the old wood was about ready to give under your nails.

After roughly two weeks of sleeping on the ground with your overstuffed backpack as a pillow or curling up uncomfortably in the back seat of a rusted dingy car while the ghoul slept in the front, you’d found shelter. An abandoned, crumbling building that used to be a school if you had to judge by what was left of the paint on the walls, the toppled-over and ransacked lockers, and the sloppy drawings. It was perfect for a night of rest; you’d stumbled upon a mostly empty classroom on the second floor in a good enough condition to make camp. You’d even managed to find a stained old mattress stuffed under a desk while scavenging.

Unfortunately, your exploration had caused enough disturbance and soon you learned that the place wasn’t abandoned, it was infested.

The ghoul had reacted as soon as he’d heard the scuttling of the roaches, flinging both you and the mattress inside the room before slamming the door shut before an orchestral of shots ensued. You would have cried in both love and appreciation if one of the damn things hadn’t crawled out from a crack in the ceiling, now you were just crying.

A nasty shiver wracks you to the core when the oversized bug stops vigorously bumping against the corner of the room and dashes towards you. The skin on your knuckles is scraped off as you rip your hand out of the tight crevice between the boards. Your fingers are soaked, wreaking of lavender as you spray another good chunk of your perfume bottle at the roach before it gets any closer.

It hisses and makes a sharp turn, away from the floral scent and back to trying to climb up the wall. Now you were both suffering, you because this was the only bottle of perfume you’d packed, and the radroach because it was choking on it.

Vile little thing…

You shriek when it skitters over to your backpack, lured in by the tasty goods inside, tapping on it with twitchy antennae. The rations, water, everything you owned were in there and your stomach twists with anxiety as your pulse skyrockets. The fact that the roach was trying to discern if it was worth ripping apart the zipper or not made the whole situation even worse.

It was big, ugly and maybe had an ounce of intelligence. Great…

Spurred on by hopelessness, you contemplate just chugging the perfume bottle at it to deter it.

“Get the frick away from there you nasty – ” with arm bent back and ready to fire you screech one last time because maybe it’ll listen this time.

“– The hell you screechin’ like a banshee for?!”

The gunshots cease shortly before your savior-to-be barges in, practically kicking the door open. When searching eyes find you hanging off the boards nailed to the window his scolding expression shifts, eyebrows knit together and his head tilts to the side. The intense lavender smell clashes into him and he waves a hand over his face with a throaty cough.

“What in God’s – ”

“ – Kill it. Kill it. Kill it! Please!” you stammer on, about ready to crawl up the ceiling if it gets any closer again.

At the sound of the door opening, the roach stops vigorously munching on the strap of your backpack and lifts its antennae high. It zips towards the exit, all scuttling legs and fluttering wings, and dodges the ghoul’s heel when he tries to stomp it dead. He aims the pistol as it dashes down the corridor, the barrel still heavy with smoke, then with a dissatisfied flick of his tongue decides otherwise.

Not worth it.

Then his attention is back to you and he rests his hands on his hips, rancorous that a radroach had managed to teach you how to climb while he’d failed.

“Get the fuck down.” he grumbles and stuffs his weapon back in its holster before shutting the door. The adrenaline subsides and you see his feet dragging as he approaches the laid-out mattress. It’s barely noticeable but after spending a decent amount of time constantly in his presence you’ve learned to distinguish the little changes in the way he carries himself.

He kicks the mattress to the wall and plops down with a gruff moan, leaning back and letting the tension sag off his shoulders.

You manage to pry yourself off the window, gently lowering yourself until your feet reach the floor. Wobbly legs guide you to the ruffled-up backpack for a quick inspection; one of the straps is nearly chewed off, hanging onto a few sturdy threads. You pinch the ruined fabric between your fingers, folding it from side to side with a concerned frown.

There was no way to fix this, not without a sewing kit, and despite practically stuffing the entirety of the vault inside the spacious bag, that was one of the few things you’d not thought of bringing along. There was a chance of finding something of the sort once you reached Tillburry, but for now, you’d have to carry it on one shoulder and pray that the one good strap wouldn’t snap under the weight.

“Mind tellin’ me why this place suddenly smells like a brothel?”

You turn to look back at the ghoul’s disgruntled face as he fishes his canteen out of his bandolier. The black expression already has him bracing for the utter bullshit about to spill from your mouth.

“Well,…the bug came out of nowhere and – ” your eyes roll to the side as you try to string together an explanation that didn’t sound bogus. “ – And you were busy with the rest and I didn’t know what to do.” you’re facing away as you struggle to drag the backpack to the mattress, then let out a small, strangled grunt. You sit on the edge, gracing him with enough room to sprawl out if he wants to. The zipper is forced open before your good hand sinks inside, rummaging for a box of band-aids you knew you’d have a reason to bring along. “And I couldn’t just run out cuz the door was closed…So I sprayed it. With perfume.”

You steal a glimpse of him over your shoulder, bottom lip sucked in between your teeth.

The bastard fucking cackles.

“Jesus Christ, woman…” he wipes a few stray droplets from his chin and you wish he’d do the same with that toothy smirk.

“Quick thinking?” you’re defensive and it makes him crack up even more. You scowl and avert your attention back to your provisions, peeking inside the pack with one eye squinted shut. “I had to do something.”

“That’s the best you came up with?”

The teasing makes your throat clench, but you keep your glare pointed down and away from him. He had the right to say whatever he wanted, he’d kept you relatively safe during your journey even if he made sure to be a prominent pain in the ass while doing so. You were a well-mannered lady, stuck to your moral code, and behaved in the polite way you had been taught. But sometimes the ghoul came dangerously close to having you cuss him out.

“Well, I don’t have a weapon, do I?” you snip and once your fingers finally brush against the familiar band-aid box, you clutch it with frustrated strength and pull it out. “I’m not exactly able to defend myself.”

The wasteland might have started getting on your nerves a little, either that or your friendly neighborhood bounty hunter was rubbing off on you. It was most likely a combination of the two. The lack of proper sleep, limited water, the constant blazing sun, you should have brought a hat, the fact that everything and everyone was suddenly out to have your head on a pike, plus his inability to offer a single sentence that didn’t contain at least one demeaning remark in it. Your patience was being tested, you were cranky, but you’d persevere, you were determined to do so.

“Ain’t gonna happen, Darlin’.” he shuts down your vague proposition, his tone dropping a few octaves as he rests his head against the wall. He lets one of his legs relax flat against the softness of the mattress, the canteen being tapped against his other, into the side of his bent knee and in a lazy fashion, an old habit. “Would sooner give my pistol to the radroach.”

“How nice.” you give him a sleazy smile before letting out your pent-up irritation on the squished box in your hand, ripping off the lid and tossing it away.

Your tantrum has him suppressing more than a few nasty statements. He grits his teeth, swirling his tongue around the sip of water locked in his mouth, a niche way of keeping his lips sealed long enough for his dissatisfaction with your passive-aggression. He swallows before smacking his lips once and swishing around the canteen to check how much more he has left, then finally speaks.

“Lose the attitude.” the typical rasp in his voice is smoothed out after he’s finally wet his gullet. He spares you a lingering glance without the usual dominating intensity present – a good way to ask you to quit it because it’s been a rough day, he’s tired and just wants to brood before shut-eye. “Ain’t gonna get you far.”

You comply with a nasal huff and scoot back against the wall before bringing your knees to your chest with a handful of band-aids tucked between your fingers. Your bleeding hand shakes a tad too much and you lay it over one of your knees to keep it steady. The dying sun rays seep past the boarded-up windows and bounce off your torn-up skin, the thin sheet of blood sparkles and it would have been disturbingly pretty if it didn’t sting like a bitch. You pinch the band-aid wrapper between your teeth and tear it open before covering up your first bruised knuckle.

Sometimes you wondered what was going on in that boiled egg head of his. On some nights he was willing to hold a conversation or re-tell a story from his younger days of surviving in the wasteland and they were gruesome but interesting. Then there were late evenings such as this one, where he’d just sit in silence, eyes distant and recalling scenarios that tugged at the corners of his lips when he thought you weren’t looking. You tried not to engage him when he was entranced, instead just scarfing down a granola bar or a few deviled eggs before curling up and forcing your eyes shut. You hoped he’d tell you one day, maybe when he trusted you enough to open up to deeper topics.

Still…

Talkative or not, he was pleasant company, even though he’d tied you to a tree once because he’d mistaken you trying to hide to relieve yourself as an attempt at running away and cheating him out of his caps.

Your lips purse at the memory.

That particular night had been a rather bumpy ride.

Once your scrapes are thoroughly covered you flex your hand, temporarily satisfied with your handiwork. The ghoul takes off his gloves and secures a beaten-up can of peaches from his bandolier, the distinct number of your vault plastered on the front. He hooks a finger around the clasp and pops it open, then his mouth pinches in a snarl. He pulls his thumb away, a shallow gash painted across and hastily filling with scarlet red.

“Shit.”

It was probably your constant presence over the past weeks and your welcoming and quiet nature synergizing with his spiteful and venomous one, but he didn’t spot you leaning closer until your fingers were wrapping your last band-aid over his cut. Your thumbs rub over his, making sure the thing sticks well.

It’s a stab to the heart because he’s aware there is no underlying intent behind your gentle display, it’s who you are – stupid and soft and too much for the world.

“Stupid t’ waste your last one considering is gonna heal in a few.” he means at as a scold, another lesson he never knew he’d need to teach, but it comes out too hushed, his words are faltering. His jaw locks and his lungs give out when you smile so tenderly and sometimes…

…Sometimes he lies to himself that you’ve only ever smiled like that for him.

After that, he sinks into an ocean of hatred, he gives you a cold shoulder, spits venom, and pushes you back at an arm’s length. Because what was a man to do when he kept beating down a stray dog and it kept nuzzling its snout in his palm? You were supposed to break a week ago, hell, even two weeks ago, start a fit and give him enough reason to leave you behind. The only thing he got was a grumpy hiss every so often when you were beyond sleep-deprived and missing a good cup of coffee.

“It’s okay.” you nod in reassurance and settle back. The sweet scent of his dinner softens the stench of lavender and it reminds you that you’ve been starving since early afternoon. “I have enough gauze to last me a while.” you dig through your provisions before scoring a package of saltines.

You don’t ask him if he wants any because he gives you a lecture every time about rationing your food. Instead, you take three intact crackers and dip them in his can. He stops digging his fingers through the mushy peaches and gives you a look, then speaks.

“Already said I’d take ya t’ Tillburry, Sweetheart.” his actions defy his condescension; he gathers a good amount of syrup on one cracker and presses it into his tongue, making sure not a drop is wasted. “Can stop tryin’a butter me up.”

“Hm?” you blink at him, then rush to fetch out a bottle of water when the crumbs tickle your throat. “I’m not, Mister…” you respond after washing down the tasteless saltines and gasping for air. “We’re a unit now, right? And you do most of the work…so it’s only fair.” it’s sincere and he might not see your face fully as you wipe your mouth and then keep it covered as you speak while chewing, but he’s learned enough to know that if you were hiding something you’d rather keep your tongue tied over lying.

Your reasoning sinks into him like the fangs of a deathclaw and he’s a little annoyed because he’s supposed to be the one telling you that:

“You need more food than me.”

Indeed, he does, but he’s a stingy man who’d rather starve a little and keep moving over stopping somewhere and restocking. He’d barely even taken any food from your vault, most of the tato sack was stuffed with Pip-boys and stimpaks intended for selling, along with a few spring water bottles.

The ghoul reaches over, plucking the larger half of your crackers and you have no plan of complaining, staying true to your word. But then he wiggles the lid completely off the can and sets it between you two and you’re suddenly so overwhelmed, but make no noise, afraid that whatever had possessed him would startle and leave. You scoot a bit closer and are the first to initiate your shared meal, dragging a syrup-dosed slice of peach and cupping a hand under your coated saltine to keep from making a mess of the mattress.

He waits until you’re done, avoiding your skin like the plague, but you only see it as a gentlemanly gesture, blind to the hidden war he’s forced to wage every time you come in contact.

The wasteland is merciless both day and night, the fluctuation of temperature’s had you feeling unwell rather often – going to sleep shivering and then waking up drenched in sweat. The sun had been slow in hiding behind the desolate horizon, but once it had and everything was dim, you noticed it.

There’s a nip in the air, it makes your fingers falter around your treat and the syrup pours down your chin before you’re able to properly stuff it in your mouth. You make a squeamish sound and brace to catch the sticky drops threatening to stain your dress, hunching forward to at least have them fall on the floorboards if you miss.

He clicks his tongue and wipes the back of his palm under your chin, gathering up the viscous sweetness.

“Sloppy girl.” he rumbles, self-taught to be unaffected by the cheery thumbs-up you give him because your mouth is too full for a proper thanks. Then he’s stuck as his first instinct is to lick the syrup off, he muses, and his tongue retreats from pressing against the back of his teeth; he wipes it in his coat instead.

The food might have not been enough to sate you, but a shared meal filled the heart more than the stomach, and you were satisfied with just a light snack spread between you both. The wrapper is crinkled up, but instead of throwing it to the side, you decide to keep it and stuff it in your backpack – a warm memory to keep you going when harder times come.

As you dust off the crumbs from your chest and lap he picks up the can and slurps out the remaining contents at the bottom. He milds out the sugar numbing his tongue with the last two sips of his canteen then lets his head roll to the side, whiskey-colored eyes trained on your sprawled-out legs.

“Y’know this gonna rip in another week or so.” he’s tugging at the stretchy fabric of your tights.

“Mm, probably.” you agree with lips curling back into your mouth, then your brows rise as you consider the unavoidable possibility. “But I’ll just fit in better with the folk here, right? So it’s not all bad. Plus, this won’t be my outfit forever.”

“Always the Positive Patty.” he scoffs with a twisted grin and takes off his hat, leaving it on top of his bandolier.

“Someone has to be.” you’re biting back a cheeky smile as you pull out a thin, creamy yellow blazer from the bottom of your pack and fling it over your shoulders. “You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, Mister…No offense.”

“ ‘M too old t’ wag my tail anymore, Sweetheart.”

The temperature drop adds a tremble to your voice, the knitted top isn’t enough to fend off the nip at your skin, and regarding the fact that it’s still not pitch black outside, you’re starting to anticipate how much colder it will get. There’s no way for the ghoul to light a fire indoors either, there’s no ventilation for the smoke. Plus, despite the room stinking like lavender, there’s no telling how many radroaches you’ll be welcoming by tempting them with a constant light source. You’ll have to make do with what you’ve got.

“How old?” you cheep while untying your boots, then slide them off with a relieved breath.

Regarding all the difficulties and dangers of the wasteland, walking was your biggest enemy. Your boots were comfortable enough to prevent a majority of blisters, but you still suffered from a few. Your feet were pulsing from overexertion and some nights the discomfort was so intense that you had to knead it out of them. 

You stretch your toes with a groan and roll your ankles, earning a few satisfying pops.

“Old.” he answers and you have a feeling that’s all he’s willing to give away.

Your shoulders ache as you flex them, skin raw and red beneath the blazer from the coarse straps of your backpack digging into them daily. You’re sore all over and it’s disheartening sometimes because you often compare your struggles to the ghoul who is unphased by everything. Then you’re reminded you’re still new to this and adjusting and he’s a strict teacher who would have no problem berating you if you weren’t living up to his standards. You’re not doing all that bad, you think, keeping things on a positive note because he sure as hell wouldn’t.

You’re about to reach forward and give your poor feet the love they deserve, but freeze for a moment and then turn to the side and stuff your good hand in the pocket of your pack.

“Now where did I put this thing…”

The sun wasn’t just cruel, it was dehydrating, and you were taught to drink water only when on the brink of passing out. You could manage that, but your lips took the most noticeable damage and you wound up having to coat them with Vaseline to prevent them from cracking.

“Ah, there it is!” you pop the cap off and dab a finger inside before lathering your lips and rubbing them together to spread out the greasy substance evenly.

The ghoul rests beside you, eyes sown shut and head dipped low, already succumbing to exhaustion.

You’re a perceptive little thing and sometimes you like to stick your nose where you shouldn’t so when you take him in while silently smacking your glossy mouth you notice that he is in a worse condition than yours. Thoughtless actions are a part of human nature and it’s been a while since you grew accustomed to the lack of personal space since starting your journey with him. You didn’t consider the potential consequences when you tilted closer to him with a Vaseline-covered forefinger extended, determined to give his chapped mouth a hint of relief.

But he’s also a perceptive man and he too acts on instinct.

A startled cry escapes you when you’re flattened on your back, pinned beneath him, and with a knife to your throat.

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” he hisses and it’s dangerously prickly.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.” you squeal and crane your neck to the side to ease the press of the blade. “I just thought your lips were chapped and – ” your eyes crack open to find him puffing ragged breaths only an inch or two from you, your arms are squished between your bodies. He catches your wrist when it bends closer to his snarling maw. “ – It’s just Vaseline. For skin conditions. It’ll help. Promise.”

“D’ I fuckin’ loo – ” he tenses when your finger dashes over the ridges of his mouth.

His entire body goes rigid as the wet sensation is registered in his brain and so does your audacity. The fact that you were this brave has him boiling. Who the fuck did you think you were?

There’s unease coiling in your belly as he stares down at you but doesn’t grasp that you’re there. You can almost see the cogs in his head turning and you make a vain attempt at escaping from his hold before he snaps back to reality.

You might have overstepped a tiny bit. Should have complied when he was about to shut down your act of care instead of forcing it on him before he could even finish speaking. Sometimes you forget the power imbalance because it’s not coded in your system that anyone would be unnecessarily violent with a woman. He’s proven you wrong plenty and it still fails to click and you can’t commit it to memory.

He presses his weight on your perked-up knees, uncaring how your feet dig into his stomach, practically forcing you to fold in half. His teeth grit so hard they threaten to crack.

When the veins on his forehead bulge, you know you’re in for a rough time.

“You fucking little – ”

He manhandles you on your stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs, and wrestles your hands behind your back.

“Ow, ow, ow. Ow!” you whine under him, wincing when he grips your wrists in place and the weight from your upper body disappears. Then you’re painfully aware of how cold it had become and a chill runs up your spine. You hear the ruffling of leather, then feel the coarse rope graze your sensitive skin. “Wait! No, no, no, no – ” you thrash between his solid thighs and he shifts his position to lock your wiggling legs between his knees. You try to look back but only manage to make yourself choke when your Adam’s apple bops against the mattress. “I just wanted to – ”

“ – Been too good t’ you.” he barks down your protests and once the rope is secured around your hands, he pulls hard enough to make you cry out. “Forgot ya place, Missy?” his tone was biting and you let loose a pleading mewl, but his gestures didn’t soften one bit. He turns you on your side, glaring daggers down at you. “Lemme remind you.” he leans so close you can feel his breath on your ear, hot and cold. “I ain’t your fuckin’ friend. I ain’t your fuckin’ daddy and I ain’t your Prince Charmin’.”

You’re curling in on yourself as he stuffs animosity down your throat. The scarce moonlight makes him look like a fiend. You hide beneath the collar of your blazer, shielding yourself from his scalding eyes and it brings some comfort to your battered mood.

Your doing…your mistake.

Jesus, you’d tipped him over real bad this time.

Over freaking Vaseline of all things…

You’d seen him like this before. It was his go-to façade when dealing with hostiles of any kind, it was him stepping back into the shoes of a merciless, vile creature devoid of humanity. You’d seen it plenty but never targeted at you.

And it was fucking terrifying.

“Only reason you’re alive is cuz you owe me caps.” he shoves you into the wall and your knees collide into it with a deaf thump. “Now keep ya mouth shut n’ go the fuck to sleep.”

Your bottom lip quivers as the dull pain in your knees spreads. Your feet ache, your wrists pulse and your shoulder screams from having to endure your whole weight. You swallow a mixture of ropy saliva and salty tears and breathe extra carefully just so you don’t let him hear you sniffling.

“Had enough o’ you.” he lumbers down next to you, back to back but no contact, and you’re just left shaken up and with a wide-eyed expression.

Once the air settles the chill of the night creeps up your legs, seeping through your tights and licking at your skin until you shudder.

You couldn’t blame his brutish punishment or his harrowing words even if they carved wretchedness into your heart. He’d given you the truth, no sugarcoating, straight and simple. Your safe transportation was business; you weren’t out on a magical adventure. He wasn’t even being cruel, he was being honest and pointedly agitated because you were getting too comfortable. You were the one trying to dazzle him with your charades and big dreams of making it into the wasteland like some fucked-up alternative to Hollywood.  

He mumbles something pissy when you shiver for the second time, readjusts, and curls an arm under his head.

The deal was to get you to Tillburry and leave you there for a few weeks, let you adjust and gather up the caps you owe, then come back to collect his pay. You were wrong to think of him as a friend, he’d discarded the title each time you had flung it at him. But it was confusing when his actions refuted his tongue.

“Quit it.” the ghoul warns when you fail to suppress another shiver so prominent it makes your teeth chatter.

“Sorry, Mister.” you manage to say, forehead pressing against the cool wall as you try to steady your breathing and fight off the incessant jitters. “Is just cold…”

He was gentle when he’d eased the stimpak into your calf to save your infected ankle. He used you to lure out hostiles, but he always stuffed you in the safest corner he could find when you were settling down to sleep. He always rolled his eyes when your feet gave out in the middle of the road, but never left you behind. And sure, he was a ghoul, his regeneration and dulled pain receptors were commendable, but he still took bullets for you. You couldn’t be convinced that it was just his job because you didn’t want to be. You wanted him to care.

When another shiver takes hold of you he sighs. You feel the mattress dip next to your legs followed by the rustling of heavy fabric. Another apology is ready to shoot past your frowning lips, a thread of pleads to not kick you out of the room and into the roach-infested corridor on standby. Anticipation has your toes curling and your heart hammers because he’s doing something behind you and you can’t turn around to see. You almost want to cry because you can’t even let the man rest without being a menace.

He’d given you beyond what you deserved, but you were greedy and still coveted for more.

“Gonna be the death o’ me…”

You twitch when you’re abruptly shrouded in unfamiliar heat, a tattered blanket draped over you, covering your curled-up form completely; his coat. A shattered hum is all you can spare.

The faint scent of detergent still lingers, but there’s also something else, a musk, a rich odor that you can’t compare to anything you’ve smelt before. The smell of him. It clings to your skin like a needy lover, merges with yours and marks you up as part of his turf.

He settles back down without another word, away from you, of course.

You inhale deep and slow, let the aroma overwhelm your senses, and shut your eyes at the buzz it causes in your stomach. Your wrists tug at the restraints with the need to pull the coat tighter around you, then you’re reminded you’re tied up, but you can’t be bothered to care anymore.

Hot then cold, sweet then sour. He never sticks to one, always bounces between the two and it’s peevishly perplexing, but it makes his tenderness so much more addicting after a rough tussle.

When you’re drunk and sated, you emerge from the warm darkness, enough for your lips to feel the cold again instead of ghosting against the leathery fabric. Glazed over, heavy-lidded eyes, blown-out pupils directed at the wall, but all your consciousness comes up with is him.

“Don’t want you to be cold, Mister.”

You tuck your feet under the warmth and the blood returns to your numb toes. Your stomach bursts with an alien flutter that punches through you until it reaches your thrumming heart and nurtures a sparkling new emotion.

“Go t’ sleep, Sweet pea.”

Coherence has been slain by a vague opponent, leaving you bare to the current pumping through your veins. Self-indulgent and needy, your knees are used as leverage, sunken into the wall and pushing you away until you find solace in the curve of his spine. The heat emitting from him is even greater than that of his coat and it dusts a hue on your cheeks, slightly darker than your natural tone. The chill stings against your heated flesh.

Your eyelids fall and your nose burrowed back into the comfort of your blanket as you suffocate on his scent once again. It cradles you gently, until your head is spinning and you feel like body and soul are nearly split apart. You’re levitating, floating in a pitch-black sea that’s guiding you into the embrace of slumber.

A steady breath comes from him, he doesn’t move nor protest.

He’s a kind man. He indulges you, lets you wander through a foggy forest because soon you’ll be separated and he won’t have to deal with you anymore. That’s all you need from him and you’re so grateful.

It’s not him murdering threats that has kept you alive thus far, it’s just him being present. Because you’re not just alive, you’re living for the first time and he was there from the beginning.

“G’night, Mister.”

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

<<< Chapter 4

Chapter 6 >>>

🌼 Daisy Masterlist 🌼

Masterlist

Tag list: @bountydroid @windierhades @ultimatereality @gruffle1 @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @ one-of-thewalkingdead @robin-the-enby @savanahc @whatthefuckkrichard @rockst4rkitty @lisnamavka @lomlbillieeilish

[igotanidea]

We'll make it: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI!

So, she got accepted to that one Univerity faculty she wanted to attend since being a teen.

It was a dream come true, except for one tiny detail.

She was leaving.

For 3 years.

A thousand miles away from her boyfiend Jason.

And he never explicitly said it, but his eyes, his face, his entire posture that shifted from relaxed in her presence to terrified at the thought of loosing her, were speaking volumes.

And no matter how much she tried to assure him the two of them will survive it, regardless of the strength she put on for both of their sakes - nothing could ease his worries.

How would he survive without her by his side?

Who would he come back to after patrol to hold and love and snuggle with?

Whose laugh and tears and words and touch and humor and moodiness would fill his days?

But he knew he had to let her go.

It was her dream after all, and who he was to ever stop her from fullfilling it...

Nothing.

Just an outcast, outlaw, vigilante casted away and abandoned even by his own family.

He never deserved her in the first place and it was time to deal with it.

She were too good for him.

But that was never what she thought.

So the last night before the departure, when she was finishing packing her bags and he was keeping his distance, leaning on the doorframe trying to act casual and happy for her?

She couldn't stand it.

She hated the fact that he seemed to just ... give up. Let go of the fight. Surrender.

Red Hood would never surrender.

And Y/N Y/L/N wouldn't either.

"So, are you excited for tomorrow?" he asked with a fake smile

"I'm actually feeling a lot of things at the same time" she sighed heavily zipping her suitcase.

"I think it's pretty normal." Jason shrugged taking a step forward putting her luggage up to make it ready for the morning and that little, somewhat helpful after all, gesture made her mad.

Mad like he has never seen her before.

"What is wrong with you?!" she yelled but all she got in response was a surprised, indifferent look on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"what do I--?" she stuttered, her eyes widening in shock. Was he for real? He didn'd care at all? "WHAT DO I MEAN?!!"

"Stop yelling princess, you're acting crazy."

"CRAZY!? I'm acting crazy to you?!"

"Ok, seriously, what the hell do you want from me!?" he spat back, getting annoyed by her behaviour.

"WHY WON'T YOU FIGHT FOR ME?!"

"Fight for you?" his eyes glistened with rage, but also something more, something she couldn;t quite decipher "you want me to fight for you, huh? Well be careful what you wish for cause if I start doing it--" he gritted his teeth stopping the sentence in the middle.

Y/N took a single look at his face. Narrowed eyes. Pursed lips. And then other telltales. Hard breathing. Rapid chest movements. Clenched fists.

"Jason..."

"FUCK!" he yelled, grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to the kiss that was as intense as if he was trying to swallow her whole. His lips moving against her with the power and stoutess that resebled the fire consuming everything that happened to be on his path. Nothing else mattered in this moment, except for her.

His girlfriend, his lover, his babygirl.

Who just finished collecting her things before flight.

Jason groaned grabbing her waist, squeezing her body in an iron tight grip, her whimpers only spurring him on, making him want more, making him want to tear her clothes off, pin her to bed, take her like an animal, make her stay.

Make her fucking stay.

But he couldn't.

And it made him stop and pull back in shame.

"Jason..." she gasped, feeling the emptiness when he moved away. Her hair were messy, eyes glassy, lips already swollen.

"I'm sorry princess..."

"Oh fuck you todd" she groaned rushing to his arms again, wrapping herself around him like a glove, needing his touch, his love, his lips, hands, everything.

She started the fire in him.

The fire he was trying so hard to contain while withdrawing and keeping his cool.

He wasn't anymore.

She was going away. There was no denying the reality. So if anything he could give her something to remember him by.

To rememeber them by.

"I got a little surprise for you..." she whispered pulling back to the point where he let her. Her hands locked with his, guiding them to the hem of her shirt signalling to pull it up.

And when he did?

The view that came to his eyes counldn't be compared with anything else. The sexiest, the most turning on, cock hardening red lacy lingerie made her look like a goddess.

"Fuck, Y/N." he tore the shirt off completely, tracing over her soft, warm skin, caressing her breasts through the thin lacy material.

"Say it..." she gasped feeling his kisses on her neck, his hands on her ass, pulling her closer.

"I don't want you to go."

"Show me."

"Oh I;m gonna show you."

Her pants were gone in a second, his fingers dipping under the material of her panties, feeling her wetness, going lower, depeer, harder...

"But not like this." Jason grabbed her waist and carried her to the bedroom.

Layed her down.

Kissed her enitre body.

Slowly unclasped all those tiny buckles, untangled all the strings, making sure that she felt each caress, each kiss, each sweet word whispered in her ear.

Moved slowly and tenderly.

Made love to her with so much care and intensity without going rough.

Looking straight into her eyes with each thrust.

We'll make it.

That was the message his gaze was conveing. One simple sentence that never had a chance to leave his mouth.

We'll make it.

"Yes..." she gasped tightening the grip of her legs on his waist, running hands down his back, pulling him closer, and they both knew that she didn't just refer to sex.

We'll make it.

And when the first rays of sun shone on the horizon....

When her lips brushed his forehead till the next time they were going to see each other....

When the doors closed quietly to not stir him awake...

Two hearts were still beating in the same rythm,

We'll make it.

[loveshotzz]

My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Tongue Tied

summary: A Halloween party, Brenda, and teaching Steve that shotgunning isn’t just a trick guys use to kiss girls.

wc: 2.9k

warnings: My blog is 18+ fem!reader, slight jealousy, and a little insecurity if you squint, fluff, weed smoking and mentions of drinking.

<- 🎃 chapter one | mini series masterlist

Tina’s ‘witches brew’ was maybe just as bad as the music she picked, but Steve Harrington was staring at you from across the crowded room.

You’d only ever seen Top Gun once, and in all honesty you didn’t even need to watch it to know that he looked better than Tom Cruise. The brown leather of his bomber jacket fits snug across his broad shoulders, and tappers tight around his waist. It’s half way zipped up, revealing the white shirt underneath and the aviators that he’d walked in wearing dangling from the collar. The weight of them pulls the fabric down enough to catch a glimpse of the dark hair that covers his chest, and your throat dries up at the thought of him shirtless. His Levi’s are light washed and well worn, a soft outline of where he usually keeps his wallet dangerously close to where your gaze wants to linger. The black combat boots he wears somehow make his feet look even bigger, your thighs press together under your dress.

His eyes roam the length of your body the way you hoped they would when you decided to dress up as The Mistress of the Dark herself. Your plunging neckline begs for his hungry gaze, and you push up your chest to encourage it. A thick black belt hugs tight around your waist, accentuating your curves in a way that has you feeling more confident than normal. Especially when you catch the way he bites his bottom lip in a smirk, darkened eyes lingering on the fake dagger resting against the softness of your tummy. Wiggling your long black nails at him, you can’t help but relish in the fact that a simple wave makes the former king of Hawkins cheeks flush the same shade of red as your lips.

It had been four days since that night with Steve. A whole 96 hours and the boy across the room from you has occupied your thoughts for every minute of every single one. It was becoming a real problem, but yet here you were at a Halloween party you’d already said no to because you knew he would be here.

Robin’s very obviously telling a story next to him, her hands moving wildly as she gets more worked up with whatever is happening in it. She’s too focused on the way Nancy’s giggling in front of her to notice that her best friend isn’t listening, the full weight of his attention making your insides warm.

Is this what it’s like to be one of those girls?

Steve chugs the rest of his beer, throat bobbing with every large gulp before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He holds your gaze even when you see him say something to Robin who waves him off, lost in the oldest Wheeler’s big blue eyes, and the first few steps in your direction is enough to send your heart into overdrive.

You almost lose sight of him when he starts to cross the makeshift dance floor in the living room, his wild auburn hair the only thing staying in your line of vision. It’s a mess of dancing bodies, and orange and black balloons already starting to lose their luster falling from the ceiling.

His eyes meet yours in the crowd and you feel the heels you can hardly walk in start to carry you closer, stepping over the empty cups and streamers that litter the floor. His smile widens, and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed when you feel your cheeks push up doing the same.

It’s when Steve finally makes it to the edge of the crowd, stopping just a few more steps away from you when it happens. When she happens.

Brenda.

She’s dressed as Madonna, her perfect blond hair teased just right, giving it more volume than Steve’s even on his best day. Black fishnets cover her toned legs, with a matching tutu that leaves little to the imagination stopping just above the curve of her ass.

The corset she wears gives her breasts the kind of push that you know is the reason for Steve’s blush when she steps in front of him. Perfectly manicured pink nails dragging up his chest before her palm flattens just underneath where his sunglasses hang.

His eyes flicker between the two of you, a nervous laugh leaving his mouth at whatever she’s saying. He scratches the back of his neck when he responds, and it makes her throw her head back in flirty giggles before her fingers start playing with his jacket zipper.

The sting of rejection is harsher than you thought it’d be, and you hope he can’t see the way it wipes the smile clean off your face. Girls like Brenda always seemed to be the boy’s kryptonite. The urge to find your best friend is what keeps your feet moving, almost like that was your plan all along. The joint you stashed away earlier in his jacket pocket calls your name, and you don’t look at Steve as you walk past the two of them, even when you see his hand reach out for your wrist.

It’s just Steve anyway.

You keep telling yourself that, hoping that it will ease the slight lump in your throat. An anger bubbling just under the surface turning the heat in your stomach into something more like lava, a volcano bubbling, just ready to explode as you try to convince yourself that you don’t have a crush.

When you find Eddie in the next room, his tongue deep in his girlfriend Cece’s mouth on the couch, and you can’t hide the bitterness that drips from your tone.

“Make sure to get some oxygen so you don’t pass out, Jesus Christ.”

Your rude interruption makes them both pull apart with a loud smack, the fake blood he’d sloppily smeared down the corners of his mouth almost gone leaving a pink stain on his pale skin instead.

“What’s your deal? Can’t you see I’m a little busy.” Eddie’s gaze narrows into an annoyed glare, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing the same thing to Harrington.”

“That’s not why I came,” you snort, crossing your arms and it makes him raise his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Bullshit.”

The two of you stare each other down, unwavering, it’s only when his eyes flick towards the dance floor that he sees the cause of your sour mood. The hard lines on his forehead soften before he rubs a ringed hand over his face with an exasperated groan. Cece wraps her arms around his waist tighter, hearts taking over her pupils when she gets a front row seat of her boyfriend being your best friend.

“Here,” he sighs under his breath, pulling open his jacket to pluck out the perfectly rolled joint inside his hidden pocket. He holds it out to you in a peace offering.

“Thanks,” you mumble as you take it, giving him a weak smile before tucking the cone in your belt next to your lighter, “Go back to sucking each other's faces off, sorry to interrupt.”

Your joke makes her giggle, and Eddie grin in the kind of way that's contagious.

“He’s an idiot,” the metal head tries to comfort, “Honestly, he’ll tell you himself.”

“I’m fine.” You keep your expression as unreadable as possible, but you know it's futile to try and hide from him, “It’s just Steve.”

It’s colder outside than when you first got here, and you don’t have nearly enough alcohol in your system to keep you warm. Goosebumps rise on the inappropriate amount of skin you have showing for the season, making you wish you’d grabbed your jacket. The breeze rustles the leaves that refuse to let go or their brittle branches, mixing with the muffled bass of the music inside, while your heels make a hollow thump against the wood of Tina’s back porch.

Pulling out the joint and your lighter from your belt, you take a seat on the top of the stairs that lead to her backyard. There’s a shiver that runs down your spine as your thumb flicks the wheel that brings the flame to life, a temporary heat warming your face as you spin the fat end over the fire to burn it evenly. The earthy smell hits your nose, shoulders already relaxing before you take the first toke. Bringing it to your lips, you tuck your lighter back inside your belt, leaning back on your palm to look at the clear night sky above you as you inhale your first drag into your lungs.

It’s just Steve.

When you exhale, your eyes stay trained on the white wisps of smoke that shades the twinkling of the stars behind it and you try not to think of Brenda’s pink nails running through his hair. Your next hit is much bigger. The music from inside gets louder, making you jump when you hear the sliding glass door open. Straightening up, you turn around with a glare ready for whoever the intruder is, only to be face to face with the boy you’re trying to convince yourself you don’t like.

“Hey, there you are.” His smile is easy, and you hate that it warms you like the sun just from looking at it.

You raise your eyebrows in acknowledgment, hollowing out your cheeks taking another drag before bringing your gaze back to the sky. His boots sound heavier than your heels against the wood, some steps making the deck creak under his weight. The silence is thick with words on the tips of both your tongues, but neither one of you is willing to break it first. He sighs awkwardly out of his nose, rubbing his palms against his thighs before taking the seat next to you. Your knees knock together, and the heat of him so close sends another shiver down to your bones.

“Jesus, you have to be cold. It’s like 40 degrees outside.” Steve doesn’t hesitate to start shrugging off his jacket, and you clock the movements from the corner of your eye.

“Steve, no, really I’m fine,” you try to protest but he doesn’t listen, thick tan arms coming into view.

“Please, I can hear your teeth from here,” he chuckles, standing up to drape the leather over your shoulders, and you try not to stare at the way the hem of his shirt rises up revealing a dark happy trail.

It feels like he’s everywhere when your shoulders slot into the warm pockets where he just was, wrapped up in him just like on your couch. The spice of his cologne clings to the fabric on the inside, and you have to fight back the urge to bury your nose into the collar and inhale.

“Well aren’t you gonna be cold now?” You ask, finally daring to meet his eyes, taking another hit.

“Nah, I’ll be alright.” He winks with the kind of confidence that makes your face hot, clasping his hands together over his spread knees making your shoulders bump.

“So, Top Gun huh?” Giggling, you finally earn a Steve Harrington eyeroll.

“Look, I didn’t have to buy anything okay. I wasn’t even going to come tonight, until I heard,” he stops himself, pink dusting his cheeks and you don’t think it's from the frost in the air, “I’m surprised you’ve even seen it, doesn’t seem like your type of movie.”

“What’s my type of movie, Steve?” You grin with a cocked brow, letting the end of the joint rest against your bottom lip, the heat from before blooming deep in your gut when he tracks the movement licking his.

“I don’t know,” his heavy gaze makes your throat bob, “You tell me.”

You don’t think you’re talking about movies anymore.

“Isn’t Brenda going to be looking for you?” You tear your eyes away from him, taking another hit to seem nonchalant. The loud snort you get in response makes you jump.

“Brenda? No, I’ve been dodging that girl for months.” Running a hand through his hair, he dares to snatch the joint from between your fingers like he was some kind of professional or something. “Is that why you ran off on me in there?”

“I did not run off!” You huff, ducking your head inside his jacket to glare at him from over the top of it, “Why would I do that?”

Vulnerability softens Steve’s features when he looks at you tucked into his coat like it’s always meant to keep you warm.

“I don’t know,” he repeats quietly, “You tell me.”

Too scared of rejection, it’s his turn to look away bringing the joint to his mouth in an attempt to take a hit. You watch him hollow his cheeks, impressed for a second until he opens it to exhale and blows nothing out. A giggle slips past your lips that breaks the tension, making him groan loudly trying to fight his own smile.

“Look, I’m still new at this okay.” He sighs, a breathy laugh escaping him with a shake of his head handing it back to you. He’s only a little embarrassed, too enamored by how cute you look giggling at him.

“Hey, the confidence was there, you just gotta work on the technique.” You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, something sweet dancing behind your eyes when you scoot a little closer. “Do you want me to shotgun it for you?”

It’s Steve’s throat that bobs now.

“Aren’t guys supposed to do that to girls? I mean, I’ve seen Eddie do it at a few parties…” he starts, eyes going wide when you scoff at him.

“Wow, your feminism is showing.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just like in movies - I’m not saying girls can’t - wow this is not coming out the way I want it too, I’m just going to shut up now.” Steve stammers, running another nervous hand through his hair, blowing out an exasperated breath before meeting you

with sheepish eyes.

“Are you driving tonight?” You ask, looking up at him from under your lashes, bringing the joint to your mouth.

“No, for once.” He gives you a lopsided grin that makes your head spin.

“Good.” Turning your body towards him, the confidence you’re trying to hang onto wavers being this close again.

It’s just Steve.

He looks nervous as you feel, but tries to hide behind a quiet laugh, the amber of the beer he drank inside lingering on his breath. The warmth of his palm finds a home on your fishnet covered thigh that’s revealed to him by the side slit of your dress, fingertips pressing into soft skin. The heat behind his stare makes your body buzz as you inhale the last little bit of the joint into your lungs, beckoning him closer with a hum, and a curl of your long nails you snuff the rest out on the stairs. Surely Tina won’t mind.

“Really?!” Steve half whispers, half yells but the whites of his teeth show giving him away.

The corners of your mouth twitch as you lean forward catching the way his gaze flicks down, and how the view makes the gold specs inside his eyes darken. Resting your hand on his cheek, the stubble tickles your palm when your fingers spread out, your thumb coaxing his chin down to open up more for you. His long lashes flutter when his nose bumps with yours, heads turning just enough for lips to brush for a second and you feel the blunt ends of his nails dig into the holes of your fishnets.

You release your hit, feeling him steal the air from your lungs, his hand daring to move up your thigh to your waist where he tugs you even closer. He holds it in for a second, both of your eyes meeting down the bridge of your nose but neither of you pulling away.

Do it.

When he exhales there’s hardly anything left, but you take it anyway, your fingers finding their way to the hair at the nape of his neck. He squeezes at the dough of your hips, in a silent plea to put him out of his misery and just when you think you’re about to show him mercy the sound of the music getting louder and the sliding glass door opening makes you both jump away.

“Hey! - Oh shit! Sorry Harrington, I didn’t know you were out here.” Eddie tries to apologize profusely with his eyes when he sees the glare you’re shooting him. “I just sold the last of my stuff and Cece’s ready to go, so if you still need a ride?”

Your best friend looks at Steve begging him to take the opening to hopefully spare his life.

“I didn’t drive tonight if you can actually believe,” Steve laughs nervously scratching the back of his neck, “or obviously I’d love nothing more for you to stay.”

He says the last part softly, just for you more than pleased when he sees you try and fight the smile from taking over your face.

“Maybe next time,” you look at him from under your lashes hoping that he picks up the fact that you want a ‘next time.’

The blush that turns the tips of his ears pink tells you he does. He watches you get up and start to shrug his jacket off, shaking his head as he stands up to stop you.

“Keep it tonight, honey. It looks better on you anyway.”

-> chapter three

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

I Keep These Longings Locked In Lowercase Inside A Vault

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 10

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

5.9k words

Warnings: Language, angst and pining, mentions of an almost-hookup, Roy is still an idiot

A/N: I know it's been a minute, thank you for your patience! I'm trying really hard to get back into good writing habits, especially because I miss all of you (and Roy!). I hope you enjoy!!

Roy swore the pounding was in his head. He wasn’t sure what kind of tequila he’d been taking shots of all night, but it sure wasn’t anything like he’d had at the clubs of London. It’d definitely done a number on him, based on the incessant banging that wouldn’t go away, no matter how tightly he squeezed his eyes shut. No, wait, it wasn’t incessant, and it wasn’t even that loud. In fact, it was almost… timid. Like someone knocking on a door in the early morning.

He opened his eyes. It sounded like knocking because someone was knocking.

“Come in,” Roy grumbled, propping himself up on his elbows.

When the door opened, a pair of tired eyes met his. She wore pyjamas that were familiar to him now, but instead of the smile he knew so well, she wore seriousness all over her pretty face. “Hey,” she said plainly. “I know we were supposed to stay a couple days but…” She leaned coolly in the doorway. “I’ve got some things I need to finish. For the tour-” She held Roy’s eyes firmly. “For the album. So, if it’s alright with you, we’ll head out as soon as you’re packed.” She pushed herself off the doorframe.

Something in Roy’s chest tightened as he took in her stony expression. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, suddenly embarrassed by the fact that he was only in his boxers. “Listen, I-”

“We’re fine, Roy.” Somehow, her tight smile was worse than the blank expression. “Seriously. We don’t need to talk about it.” She shrugged, not quite meeting his eye now. “We both drank way too much,” she chuckled hollowly, tucking some stray hair behind her ear. “And I think the alcohol made us forget that we’re pretending.” She nodded to him, that smile becoming her charming one, the one she wore at red carpet events and celebrity-filled parties. “We’re good, Kent,” she assured him.

“We’re good,” he echoed, wishing he could say something more, something to make everything better. “Alright, then.”

Good. Roy didn’t feel good while he packed his things back into his suitcase. No, he felt that pounding in his head and that tightness in his chest. He wanted to kick himself for listening to his drunken cock and ruining things between them. The evening- no, this whole ‘fake dating’ operation- had been going so well. The two of them had become real friends, close friends even. She had managed to become one of the most important people in Roy’s life in such a short period of time. He knew, deep inside, that even after all… this had ended, they would still be in each other’s lives. The press would go on about how refreshing it was to see exes remain so amicable, the way they did about him and Keeley. And he’d watch her move on to other men, to men she truly cared about, and he’d be happy for her as he listened to the beautiful love songs she wrote about them. And he’d move on too, wouldn’t he? And she’d be happy for him, right?

“Kent? You ready?”

Instead of answering, Roy blinked at the woman who stood in the doorway. Kent, she’d called him. In that same tone she’d used when they first met and weren’t friends. What happened to Roycito? And why the fuck did he care so damn much?

Her raised eyebrow reminded him that she’d asked a question. “Yeah,” he grumbled, grabbing his zipped up suitcase. “I’m ready.”

~

Once again, I sat on a plane with Roy Kent in complete silence while I wrote a song. Unlike our flight to L.A., this time we didn’t smile at each other or laugh or tease each other across the cabin. This time, something thick and heavy hung in the air between us as Roy read his book and I kept my head bent over the lyrics that flew out of my pen.

Maybe I should have asked Roy to talk about things. Maybe I should have let him explain. But, if I was being honest, I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want his awkward mumblings about how drunk he was and how he didn’t mean any of it. I didn’t need another rejection. And I definitely didn’t need him suggesting that we end this whole arrangement. Because that would probably mean an end of our friendship, which, somehow, felt even worse than the idea of being blatantly told Roy wasn’t interested in me romantically.

As I snuck a glance at him through my eyelashes, I made a decision: it was better to be friends with Roy Kent than be nothing at all. Even if it meant pining over him throughout my tour and having him be clueless about how every word of every love song was for him. Even if it meant having to watch him move on once the end of this fake relationship finally reared its ugly head. I wanted to have Roy in my life, no matter what. Even if it wasn’t the way I wanted.

It was strange. I’d had plenty of boyfriends and plenty of platonic guy friends. But nothing quite like what I had with Roy. Everything was just so easy with him. While I was definitely attracted to him and spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about him, it wasn’t overwhelming the way it had been with other men. My feelings didn’t render me tongue-tied and unable to form a single coherent sentence; I was too comfortable with Roy for that. He set me so at ease and just felt like home.

And if I wanted to keep the home I’d found in this friendship, I needed to pretend like that’s all this was: friendship.

Feeling emboldened by my decision, I set my notebook down and crossed the cabin to plop down beside Roy. He looked up with raised eyebrows, as if he was waiting for me to break the silence. His eyes held that nervousness they’d carried all morning, tinged with what could be mistaken for a little bit of hope.

“Did you really bring the cowboy hat home?” I blurted out.

A surprised smile broke through that bearded face. “Fucking ’course I did,” he chuckled, shutting his book and laying it on his lap. “I looked damn good in it.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “And which one of my brothers told you that? You know they were just messing with you, right?”

“Fuck off.” He nudged me with ease, as if we hadn’t tumbled into my bed together the night before. “I think I should wear it to all your shows this summer. I could start a trend. Instead of those little friendship bracelets, people can trade cowboy hats.”

Pretending my heart didn’t skip a beat with each little touch, I shoved him back. “How about no,” I snarked. “I doubt Keeley wants you trying to start any fashion trends anyway, Roycito.”

His face seemed to brighten when I called him the silly little nickname. “Fine, sunshine,” he chuckled. “No fucking cowboy hats.”

“Thank you.” With a friendly smile, I settled into the seat, allowing my shoulder to brush his and stay there. He picked his book back up and resumed reading, with the corners of his mouth tugging upwards now. Deciding I had not gotten enough sleep the night before, what with all the tossing and turning and writing I’d done after Roy left my bedroom, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to rest my head on Roy’s shoulder. I was torturing myself, I knew. I was setting myself up for a future heartbreak that would stay with me long after the public relationship ended.

But fuck, Roy’s shoulder felt so warm and comfortable, like I belonged there.

Yeah, I lied to myself as my nap began to claim me. Friends is enough for me.

~

Roy couldn’t help but feel weirdly important as he sat in the recording studio. Jamie looked downright thrilled to be sitting beside him, grinning like a complete moron, wearing an outfit Roy knew the striker had spent far too long putting together. Keeley, unsurprisingly, was cool as a cucumber on Jamie’s other side; still grinning, but definitely more at ease.

Jamie had all but begged for the chance to come with Roy to the recording studio, to see the artist herself at work. Although Roy had initially shrugged the striker’s requests off, figuring the popstar would want as few people as possible to know details about the album she hadn’t even announced yet, she had surprised him by not only saying yes but by also inviting Keeley to the session. She’d even greeted the model with a friendly hug and a kiss on the cheek, eliciting a pleased smile from Roy’s ex-girlfriend. Roy scolded himself for ever thinking the popstar was jealous of his ex; he scolded himself even more when he felt slightly disappointed about that.

He turned his focus to the recording booth, where those pretty eyes were focused on her notebook. He wondered what song she’d be recording today; some part of him was hoping it was that lake song she’d sung to him back in L.A., the one that made his chest fill with warmth. It his favorite song he’d heard from her- maybe his favorite song ever now- and he was dying to hear it again.

Instead, her producer hit play and filled the studio with a different song, one Roy hadn’t heard before.

Drownin' in the Blue Nile

He sent me "Downtown Lights"

I hadn't heard it in a while

The hair on the back of Roy’s neck stood straight. He kept trying to tell himself that that night had been a blur, but he remembered every detail, every single moment- including the song he’d hummed on her front porch. It must be the favorite song of some rockstar prick she’d dated before. Because she couldn’t be referencing Roy in a song- right?

What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and fallin' back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top-lip kiss, how I long for our trysts

Without ever touchin' his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

Her eyes locked on Roy’s, eyes sparkling with something he couldn’t quite identify. It sent chills down his spine. Her face was firm, determined, as if the two of them were having a serious conversation. For a moment, he forgot about Jamie and Keeley sitting beside him. Hell, he forgot how to fucking breathe as he absorbed every word she sang.

I keep these longings lockеd

In lowercase, inside a vault

Somеone told me, "There's no such thing as bad thoughts

Only your actions talk"

These fatal fantasies

Giving way to labored breath, takin' all of me

We've already done it in my head

If it's make-believe

Why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

While Roy scrambled to understand the meaning of the words she sang- in a voice he could only describe as sultry and longing- Jamie leaned over, nudging Roy pointedly.

“Oi,” the striker hissed, eyebrows scrunched in repugnance. “Is she singing about having a fucking wank to you?”

If Roy wasn’t already blushing, he sure as hell was now. “Fuck off,” he growled, elbowing Jamie. When he glanced around the footballer, he caught Keeley’s gaze. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously- oh fuck. Keeley knew something was up. Whether they were dating or just friends, Roy had a hard time hiding things from Keeley. He must have had guilt written all over his face based on the way she was looking at him.

Rather than face Keeley’s glare- the one so harsh it would surely drag a confession of his stupidity out of him- he turned his attention back to the recording booth. She smirked as she sang; putting on an act for Jamie and her producer, Roy reasoned. He shoved away all those thoughts of her bed in Los Angeles; they’d just gotten past it, he reminded himself. No reason to keep dredging that shit up.

They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly

I choose you and me religiously

What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and fallin' back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top-lip kiss, how I long for our trysts

Without ever touchin' his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

He sent me "Downtown Lights"

I hadn't heard it in a while

Am I allowed to cry?

She closed her eyes, a look of sadness and peace crossing her face as her voice quieted. Roy felt something ache in his chest, an ache he squashed down as hard as he could. Something he’d been squashing down for a while now, actually.

He was still squashing that feeling when he was alone in his house that night, drinking a beer and reading a book. When the text alert went off, he expected his fake girlfriend, probably inviting him to another recording session, or maybe even a concert rehearsal this time; he’d jokingly asked for a sneak peek recently and had only received a teasing smirk in response. Maybe she was finally inviting him.

Instead, when he opened his messages, he found a text from Keeley:

What the fuck did you do?

~

A small groan slipped past my lips as I stretched on the floor of the studio where my rehearsals took place. I’d lost track of how many hours had just gone by, hours of dancing and jumping and strutting and singing. I glanced over my shoulder, at the dancers who were cooling down and chattering amongst themselves. They hollered my name and waved as they began to leave, reminding me for the millionth time how lucky I was to be touring with such an incredible and talented group of people.

“When do I finally get a preview?”

That gruff voice sent a shiver down my spine. I turned back around to see Roy standing over me, eyebrow quirked teasingly. He carefully sat down beside me, wincing when a small crack came from his knee. Another shiver rushed through my body when I saw his eyes rake down my bare legs before landing on my face again.

“No previews,” I reminded him, unable to help my grin as I looked at that hopeful face. “You get to see the show when everyone else does.” I shook my head. “Spoiled man, you hear a few new songs and think you get to see the whole damn show. Besides-” I gestured to the bare studio. “I want you to get the full effect, Roycito. The lights, the crowd, the costumes-”

“I bet Roy’s really looking forward to the costumes,” one of my dancers giggled as they passed by us.

My cheeks burned as I stuck out my tongue at her. “Good night,” I retorted before turning back to Roy. “The costumes are kind of amazing,” I admitted with a proud grin. “The designer I worked with is a genius.”

“You’re probably easy to design for,” Roy chuckled, shaking his head gently. “You look like a fucking Barbie doll or something.”

All I could do was blink at Roy and his compliment and his soft smile. A fucking Barbie doll. Was he really so damn clueless, I wondered. Every stupid thing that came out of that stupid mouth of his made this whole “friendship” thing harder than it needed to be. At least soon I’d be on tour, occupied and busy and distracted and working my ass off. Maybe that would help take my mind of the man who was still sitting there, smiling like everything was fine between us, as if we hadn’t almost-

Stop it, I scolded myself for the millionth time since we’d returned from L.A. Friends don’t keep thinking about the time they almost hooked up with each other- right?

“We should get going,” Roy finally said, nodding towards the door. “Sydney’s probably hungry.”

My idiot heart skipped a beat at Roy’s concern for my cat, who probably liked Roy even more than I pretended not to. “Yeah,” I sighed, standing up. “Let’s go, Kent.”

~

“Thanks,” Roy mumbled to the two beaming teenage girls who thrust friendship bracelets at him. He mindlessly slipped them onto his wrist, which was quickly becoming covered in the beaded gifts. At this rate, he’d lose circulation in his arm.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile back at the people, all dressed in sparkly outfits and wide smiles, who shrieked and waved when they saw him. He was no stranger to screaming fans, people absolutely thrilled at the mere sight of him, but this was…. different. First of all, he was usually fawned over by football fans, especially men who’d grown up watching him on the pitch. They chanted about him being here, there, every-fucking-where, asked him to sign kits and balls, praised him for Greyhound victories or chastised him for their losses.

These fans were excited to see him because he was…. Roy. The devoted boyfriend, the muse. It was utterly bizarre to see girls, not much older than Pheobe, shout his name and wave at him as though he was one of the teen idols that probably hung on their walls at home, as if he was still the hot young thing he’d been in his Chelsea days. What a strange new kind of fame, he thought as he, flanked again by Keeley and Jamie, entered the V.I.P. tent they’d be watching the concert from.

“Does that really say DADDY?” Jamie’s face was comically offended. “What the absolute fuck?”

Keeley grinned at Roy. “I think it’s cute how excited they are to see you,” she offered, nudging him playfully. “Word around the Twitterverse is that you’re quickly becoming her fanbase’s favorite boyfriend.”

Roy grunted and glanced down at his wrist; sure enough, he spotted the bracelet Jamie had been so offended by. “Don’t know why,” he grumbled. “I haven’t done shit.”

“Oh hush,” Keeley scolded. “You post lovely things about her, you showed up to her fundraiser and her niece’s birthday, you’re here accepting these cute little bracelets and smiling at her fans. Who doesn’t love a supportive boyfriend?”

Weird. Not too long ago, a comment like that would’ve had Roy’s heart skipping a beat, the idea that Keeley was reminded of what a good boyfriend he could be. But, not for the first time, he realized he wasn’t flustered or excited or anything when he looked at Keeley. She was just Keeley. Keeley, his ex, his friend, his publicist- who didn’t quite seem to believe his lies about nothing happening between him and the singer, but had still let him off the hook.

Maybe time really did heal all, he pondered as he waved stiffly at a beaming teenager who was filming him on their phone. Maybe, finally, after all this time, he was over Keeley Jones.

If that was the case, then why the hell was he still doing this fake relationship thing?

Before he could spend any time answering that question, the lights of Wembley Stadium went down, prompting the crowd to erupt into the most high-pitched shrieks Roy had ever heard in his life. Wild was the only word he could think of to describe the ear-shattering chaos. He tried to recall how loud the crowds were when he wore an England kit; were they this feral? Even if they were, that was for a team representing their nation; this was for one woman.

And before that woman appeared onstage, her voice filled the dark stadium, low and, once again, sultry. Roy’s heart skipped a beat when that familiar voice hit his ears, and he found himself fiddling with those damn friendship bracelets.

I was supposed to be sent away

But they forgot to come and get me

I was a functioning alcoholic

'Til nobody noticed my new aesthetic

All of this to say I hope you're okay

But you're the reason

And no one here's to blame

But what about your quiet treason?

She appeared, as if by fucking magic, on the now lit stage. Somehow, the crowd’s screams grew louder as she continued to sing, all glowing smiles in a sparkling bodysuit that left little to the imagination- not that Roy needed his imagination anymore.

Her movements were flowing and easy, reminding him of the way they’d danced together, with her hips swaying hypnotically. His face went warm with the memory of her body close to his at the quince, moving in sync, smiling and laughing together, exchanging light kisses for the benefit of her family.

Roy knew there were tons of cameras and eyes on him. Hell, Keeley and Jamie were both eyeing him; Jamie was smirking, teasing Roy with his raised eyebrows, and Keeley… well, Keeley looked as suspicious as she did that day in the recording studio, when they listened to Guilty As Sin…? and she interrogated him about the song’s meaning.

But he didn’t think about the eyes and cameras and the livestreams and the tweets and the TikToks, or even his friends beside him. He just watched her, amazed that one person could be so magnetic, so full of energy. She was fucking non-stop, singing and dancing and smiling and just sparkling. He couldn’t help his own grin as he watched, unconsciously bopping his head along to the familiar pop hits and tapping his fingers along the barrier in front of him. Somehow, in the crowd of thousands, her eyes met his more than once, prompting his smile to widen each time; in the back of his head, he noted that there would probably be some great photos and videos of those moments. Keeley and Lanie would be fucking thrilled. But those thoughts about publicity and gossip were buried deep behind his growing blush and racing heart.

His eyes never left the stage as he leaned towards Keeley. “D’you think you could get me and Pheebs tickets to tomorrow night’s show?” he asked over the music. “She’d lose her shit over all this.”

Keeley smirked as she studied Roy, more starstruck than she’d ever seen anyone in her life, even more than when she introduced Rebecca to Mel B at a charity event. She wanted nothing more than to ask him again about Los Angeles, about what had shifted between that had the charming singer serenading him with that song at the recording studio; but Keeley knew all she’d get were more growls and eyerolls.

So instead, she nudged him playfully. “Yeah, Roy. I think we could manage to get you tickets to your own girlfriend’s concert. Shouldn’t be too hard to arrange.”

The corners of Roy’s mouth ticked up at Keeley’s teasing tone, but, again, his gaze never left the singer.

Near what he knew was the end of the show, someone handed her a guitar and she approached a single microphone, looking, for the first time all night, a smidge nervous. But even that sudden shyness looked so lovely on her, charming and endearing. She smiled, a more timid smile now, and breathed deeply into the microphone.

“I hope you’ve all been having a great time tonight,” she said, laughter coloring her voice. The crowd went absolutely insane over the short sentence. “I love getting to share my music with you, getting to hear you all sing along and enjoy yourselves.” She strummed the guitar absently. “Would it be alright if I played something new for you guys?”

Fucking hell. If Roy thought the crowd couldn’t get any louder, he was proven dead wrong. Wembley was positively shaking with excitement and screams he felt sure could be heard well across the country. And there she stood, smiling as if this were the most normal thing in the world, as if her life wasn’t some fairy tale Roy couldn’t believe he got to see up close and personal.

It was an eternity before the crowd quieted enough for her to finally begin playing the tune that Roy was thrilled to recognize from those quiet afternoons by the lake, afternoons that felt like a distant dream now.

I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night

Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife

And if it was an open-shut case

I never would've known from that look on your face

Lost in your current like a priceless wine

The more that you say

The less I know

Wherever you stray

I follow

I'm begging for you to take my hand

Wreck my plans

That's my man

He had a stupid smile on his face. He knew it. But fuck, there was something so thrilling about seeing her finally share those songs with her fans. After watching her toil away, listening to her wake up in the middle of the night to pluck away at the piano, trying to sneak peeks at the words she scribbled down on napkins in the middle of dinner, Roy couldn’t believe he finally got to hear her debut a piece of the album he knew this crowd would love.

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in

As if you were a mythical thing

Like you were a trophy or a champion ring

And there was one prize I'd cheat to win

Roy’s apparently permanent blush deepened at the mention of trophies and champion rings, at the way her eyes locked on his with the words that were clearly supposed to be a reference to him and his job. He really shouldn’t be amazed at her ability to put on an act, he scolded himself. Yet over and over again he let himself marvel in her ability to wear those smiles on her lips, to paint a sparkle in her eye and a blush on her cheeks, to act like there was something special about him, something as magnetic and magical as her.

“This is amazing!” Keeley chirped in Roy’s ear, grooving along to the mystical tune. “Really beautiful!”

“Yeah,” Roy huffed, shaking his head, eyes never leaving the stage. “She really is.”

Keeley pursed her lips and raised a cool eyebrow but didn’t utter another word. In fact, no one said another word to Roy for the rest of the song; he was clearly under some sort of spell, one cast by a guitar and a pretty voice. At the end of the song, he added his own claps and cheers, pride beaming from his face as he locked eyes with the singer.

She returned the guitar to a waiting stagehand and took the microphone in her hand. “I’m so glad you all liked it,” she giggled, awe on her pretty face. “How’s about another one?”

How the fuck did the crowd manage to get even louder? Roy pondered as his eyes scanned the faces of the crowd, mostly women, screaming and cheering and smiling and crying. It was like nothing he’d ever seen in his life. He snapped back to attention as a bouncy pop tune filled the stadium, lights shining on the popstar striking a confident pose that complemented the bright little skirt and top she’d changed into a couple songs ago.

Nice to meet you, where you been?

I could show you incredible things

Magic, madness, heaven, sin

Saw you there and I thought

"Oh, my God, look at that face

You look like my next mistake

Love's a game, wanna play?"

Roy couldn’t help but chuckle at the exaggerated expressions she made as she sang, as if showing that she was in on some joke. He’d heard bits and pieces of this song but, like many of the other tracks she’d been working on, she’d refused to allow Roy a peek at the finished product. Part of him wanted to be annoyed with her for keeping him in the dark, but now, seeing it performed live in front of a packed stadium, he couldn’t complain too much.

So it's gonna be forever

Or it's gonna go down in flames

You can tell me when it's over

If the high was worth the pain

Got a long list of ex-lovers

They'll tell you I'm insane

'Cause you know I love the players

And you love the game

Oh fuck, did she really just point at him as she sang about players and games? It was so damn cute and flirty and fucking charming; it drove the whole stadium bonkers. Jamie threw an arm around Roy, laughing in the manager’s ear in a way that would normally have Roy threatening to throw punches. But, with all those smiling teenagers watching him and giggling to each other, he couldn’t help simply shaking his head and smirking, in absolute awe of the power a single woman could have over thousands of people.

The song was incredible. Pop perfection, one might say. It was clever and cute and, well, fucking fun. And she twirled around the stage, flanked by dancers Roy recognized from the times he picked her up from rehearsals, hoping for a sneak peek of the show he had to admit was pure spectacle. She was a spectacle, in the best possible way.

“Thank you!” she called out, miraculously not as out of breath as Roy felt. “That is Blank Space, and it is the first single from my new album, Calamitous Love!”

Roy was going to go deaf. How was he supposed to handle more of these shows, with all the screaming and cheering and hollering? But when he saw her, beaming with the album cover- with the Scrabble letters spelling out the title and the little details he knew he’d have to dissect later- on the screen behind her, laughing at the reaction from her fans, Roy couldn’t help but ponder if going deaf would be completely worth it.

Roy felt oddly proud of himself as he recognized the next couple of songs, mentally thanking Phoebe for all the exposure she’d given him and pretending that he hadn’t been listening to these songs in the car by himself these days. He knew the show was coming to an end, and some little part of him was genuinely… disappointed. But he didn’t focus on that, not when she was positively glowing as she sang, her expression sparkling as she gestured in his direction.

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well

I can see the end as it begins

My one condition is

Someone prodded Roy’s shoulder. Turning around sharply, realizing how tense his shoulders had been as he watched the popstar, Roy blinked in surprise at the sight of April looking up at him expectantly.

“Come on, Kent,” the assistant said simply. She offered Jamie a small smile before returning her eyes to Roy. “Let’s go.”

A deep frown settled on Roy’s face, his thick eyebrows all scrunched. “But…” He shook his head. “The concert,” he said dumbly. “It’s not over.”

Something in April’s face softened as she gestured towards the exit of the VIP tent. “She’s going to come out this way,” she explained slowly. She leaned close to Roy, speaking so only he could hear. “Lanie and Keeley were thinking it’d be cute if you were there when she gets offstage. A little hug and kiss kind of thing, you know.”

Without even a glance at Keeley, Roy nodded numbly. “Right, right,” he mumbled. A little hug and kiss kind of thing. Fuck, they hadn’t kissed since…

Nope. Stop it Roy, he scolded himself. Nothing happened.

April turned on her heel and led a still thunderstruck Roy out of the VIP tent. He couldn’t quite help the way he kept glancing back over his shoulder, trying to catch one final glimpse of the popstar singing about being seen in someone’s wildest dreams. He’d heard the song so many times on the radio but now, seeing her up on stage, looking like a fucking princess, he felt like he was hearing it for the first time.

It felt like an eternity before he finally could see her again, from the half-hidden spot April had led him to so they could wait for the end of the show. Her eyes found his as the music slowed, her voice deep and almost quiet.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just pretend

The lights went out as the stadium exploded into cheers and screams, the vibrations pulsing through Roy’s body as he stood still, hands behind his back so he wouldn’t fidget with his fingers so damn much. The popstar had disappeared from the stage, where Roy’s eyes were still locked, desperate as her fans to see her back up there.

Instead, he realized she was strutting towards him, flanked by her dancers, who were just as sweaty and breathless as she was. The fluffy skirt she’d been wearing onstage was gone, revealing one of those little bodysuits that hugged her beautifully. The moment their eyes locked, she broke both into a smile and a run, launching herself into his arms the way she had when the Greyhounds had been named champions.

Roy opened his arms for her automatically, chuckling into her frizzy hair and giving her a squeeze. He ignored the fact that fans were shouting their names and taking photos and videos of their embrace; he just wanted to hold her tight, to let his hug tell her how incredibly proud and impressed he was after watching her put on an impossibly incredible show.

She was the first one to pull back, laughter in her eyes as she gazed up at him. “Sorry,” she exhaled, still holding onto Roy’s arms. “I know I’m all sweaty.”

Her flushed cheeks and breathless chuckles had something short-circuiting in Roy’s still cloudy brain. “That’s alright,” he blurted out. “I like it.” Her wrinkled nose and small smirk brought Roy back to earth. “I mean, I’m used to it,” he clarified, shaking his head. “Because of football.”

“Sure, Roycito,” she laughed, releasing him and nudging him back towards the way he’d come.

Remembering April’s words- a little hug and kiss kind of thing- Roy paused and grabbed her hip. She quirked an eyebrow at him, wordlessly asking what he was up to. He pulled her to himself and cupped her face with his free hand, tilting it to his. Their lips attached effortlessly, as though no time or awkwardness had passed since that night in her bedroom. She tasted familiar, light and delightful, and she melted against him with ease. For a moment, Roy forgot where he was, content to just have her in his arms, feeling, for the first time in what seemed to be ages, that everything was alright between them.

He let her end the kiss, her eyes sparkling in that way he’d been missing. All she did was chuckle and shake her head at him, as if assuring him that she, too, was happy they were back on track.

Instinctively, Roy reached down and intertwined their fingers, giving her hand a small squeeze as they disappeared from the shouts and cameras of the crowd.

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances@respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog@hotleaf-juice@emmy2811@captainorbust-blog@preciousbabypeter@shion-ah@royalestrellas@eugene-emt-roe@littleesilvia@teenwolf01@sisinever@yagotgames@queen-of-the-downtown-scene@emmaallisonann@mrdsturd@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@charkachow@mrdsturd@littlepinapple@sunfairyy@shadowzena43@uhmidkmuch@imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme@alicedsworld@222333777@thegivenvoid @tortilla-maria1@treblebeth@maackiimoo @di-essere-amato @sortzz @i-am-mrsreckless