#but this is so sugary sweet i had to get away from the angst for a minute

[justalittlelilac]

My brother and his wife just welcomed another bundle of joy into the world, throwing me into the esteemed ranks of aunthood for the third time (cue the confetti and party horns! 🎉🎊)

Anyway, this got my brain running wild about how each of the love interests in OLBA might react to you having baby nieces or nephews (or 'niblings' for a more gender-neutral term) if you don't already have children:

Cove:

Ugh, Cove. Our adorable beach bum. Much like all of my headcannons for this man, his reactions shift depending on his age. The younger the Cove, the more nervous he'd be around the tiny one. However, regardless of age, I can picture him approaching the situation with all the caution of a skittish cat.

When asked if he wanted to hold the baby, he'd likely stammer a quick "No, thanks!" before immediately backpedaling with guilt. Eventually, he'd cave and accept the precious cargo, muttering something like, "They're so small... Are they supposed to be this small? Were you this small?"

Bless his heart, Cove would treat the baby like a Fabergé egg—utterly convinced that one wrong move could shatter the little one into a million pieces. He hasn't been around babies, and because it's an unfamiliar situation, he's unsure of himself. But fear not! As time passes, our surfer boy gradually realizes that babies are surprisingly resilient little creatures, capable of surviving the occasional awkward hold or accidental bump.

Once comfortable, Cove would transform into the ultimate cool uncle. I can just picture him and Elizabeth locked in a heated debate about the appropriate age to introduce the baby to surfing. "What do you mean two is too young? They'll be walking by then... right?" He'd whisper to you, panic in his eyes, "That is when babies start walking, right?"

Later that night, you'd find Cove hunched over his laptop, furiously Googling "baby milestones" and "safe surfing for two year olds."

His favorite pastime would become riling up Elizabeth with outrageous statements like, "Someone's gotta teach this kid the finer points of life. We can't have them growing up preferring some stuffy mansion over the sweet, sweet sound of crashing waves like someone we know." Elizabeth would roll her eyes so hard you'd worry they might get stuck, insisting there's not a snowball's chance in Hawaii of that happening.

And when he sees you with baby? Well, we can just say that the warmth that spreads through his chest is undeniable when he looks at you with so much love. Whether or not you are planning for children, it just makes him happy to see you happy with the new member of your family.

(My Cove route MC would be handing the baby back to Elizabeth, making some excuse that she and Cove had to leave early if she caught him staring like that 😏)

Derek:

Fine gentlepeople of the audience, I present to you: Derek in Uncle Mode. He has run the gauntlet and can't help going into helper mode as soon as you both walk into the door. Swooping in like a superhero, except instead of a cape, he's holding a casserole dish and wearing a "World's Best Uncle" shirt he was jokingly gifted but wears like a badge of honor.

Derek's already firing off questions like an interviewer on caffeine. "How's the baby sleeping? Do you need help with laundry? I brought a casserole! Oh, and I've memorized some lullabies and learned some baby sign language if needed!"

It's only when you, Elizabeth, or one of his family members (if the baby belongs to one of his siblings) tells him to slow down that he finally stops to meet the baby. He is immediately taken with them.

He offers to hold the baby so parent can rest or get anything done. He's cooing and making faces that would be embarrassing if they weren't so darn endearing. "Look at those cheeks! And that hair! Man, it's crazy how small they are! Y'know, they look a lot like me//you. So cool."

His enthusiasm is infectious. Of course, he involves you, asking if you want to hold the baby, saying how guilty he feels for hogging them. Total natural. Are we even surprised? This man loves his family, both his and yours, and having this time with you and his family will never get old. It fills him with a contended happiness he can't find anywhere else.

Prepare yourself for Derek to become a fixture at every family gathering, armed with a camera and a determination to document every sneeze, giggle, and adorable baby fart. He's already wanting to help plan the kid's first birthday party, complete with a petting zoo, bouncy castle, and a cake bigger than the baby.

When the little one gets older, don't be surprised to find Derek passed out on the couch after an epic play session, covered in glitter glue and sporting a tiara. It's a look that screams "Best Uncle Ever," and he wears it with pride. (I'm going to pass out from how cute that looks in my head help)

Baxter:

Now, Baxter's reactions are much trickier for me to pin down. At first glance, you might mistake him for a casual observer, watching from the sidelines, uninvolved, with that trademark soft smile of his. Very similar to the way he is in groups. It's not that I think Baxter wouldn't like babies; I'm just not convinced if he would have a tremendous outward affection for babies that are not his own, y'know?

But don't let it fool you — where Baxter would shine is in any outing. The man is on top of it. A Swiss Army Knife of baby preparedness. By nature of his profession, he would be keyed into many different things event-oriented.

Need to know the best time to visit the zoo to avoid crowds? Baxter's got a color-coded chart for that. Looking for a family-friendly restaurant that won't turn up their noses at a screaming infant? Baxter's already made reservations at three different places, just in case.

When it comes time for a family day out, Baxter shows up with a backpack that would put Mary Poppins to shame. Diapers? Check. Snacks? Check. First aid kit, portable fan, and a small library of children's books? Triple check.

I'm talking itinerary, scheduled bathroom breaks, and located family area so baby can be fed. He probably scoped out the location during his workday to know where everything was. He can't help working off the clock, it seems.

Now, he'd try to be subtle and respectful with all of this, not wanting to step on toes or upset your sister. He'd make sure to offer his services and back off if he was told no, but it's useless to try and get him to relax if it's just the two of you.

As the baby grows into a toddler, Baxter's true colors start to shine through. Leave him alone with the kid for an hour, still having that slightly interested, amused smile on his face, and you'll come back to find him covered in stickers, wearing a makeshift cape, and fully committed to his role as "Sir Baxter, Knight of the Pillow Fort."

It turns out that your niece or nephew has unlocked a side of Baxter that even he didn't know existed – his inner child. In these moments, you catch glimpses of the carefree childhood Baxter never had. A kid at heart who didn't really get to be a kid, and your niece or nephew gives him that space to be one with abandon.

And there you have it! Now, I'm gonna go brush my teeth, because I now have cavities from how sweet these three are in my head. (I need someone more skilled than me to draw these scenarios omggg)

[reidsfilm]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 — SPENCER REID

divider credit: cafekitsune

PARING: spencer reid x fem reader

WARNINGS: SMUT!! (18+) porn with plot (more plot tbh), soft !dom spencer, oral (fem receiving) praise, aftercare, fluff, spencer being a dorky nerd, a teeny tiny bit of angst. pet names; sweetheart, pretty girl, baby

SUMMARY: You've taken some time off work after nearly getting killed in the field. So you spend your time baking. A sweet and sugary moment between you and Spencer becomes much more...sinful.

WORD COUNT : 8,3k

Notes: this man is so smexy I wanna smooch all over his face. btw this is more fluff than smut. I got carried away with them being sweet. this is not proofread.

Three weeks had passed since you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer had been extremely worried, his brain had worked nonstop to come up with ways on how to better protect you. You'd never seen him so on edge, he was usually very relaxed, sometimes a bit awkward, but never anxious.

Spencer had practically forced you to stay home and rest, the wound still wasn't healed and you had to take care of it. He left a first aid kit right next to the bed and he made you promise you'd apply the ointment every few hours.

You had spent the weeks catching up with your favorite shows and reading some of the books that belonged to Spencer. And all in all just trying to take care of yourself, both physically and mentally.

As you continued to mix the batter of the cupcakes, the silence in the home became almost deafening. Being away from work for so long didn't help, you wanted to be out in the field again, fighting crime, working with Spencer and the team. But you also knew that you had to listen to Spencer and stay home a little while longer.

The sound of keys in the lock pulled you out of your thoughts, and you knew instantly that Spencer was coming home.

The front door opened and Spencer stepped trough the door, immediately he could smell the cupcakes that you were baking. Taking his shoes off, he placed them neatly on the shoe rack before he hung his jacket away.

Slowly he entered the living room, his gaze falling onto you in the kitchen. You didn't look up, your back turned to him as you continued to mix the batter. He could recognize that body language, you were upset.

"Hey," he spoke gently, walking into the kitchen, taking off his tie as he made his way towards you. He didn't touch you yet, knowing how you were feeling. Stopping right behind you, he leaned in slightly. He smelled good, he could smell the familiar scent of sugar, and he knew that you had stolen one of his shirts again.

He gently placed the tie on the counter next to you, quietly observing you as you worked. The silence between you was tense.

After a few moments, he gently touched your hips, his touch light, as if he was scared he'd hurt you, he slowly turned you around, his eyes meeting yours.

He observed you, noticing your slightly flushed cheeks and how you avoided his gaze. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" he muttered, one hand slowly moving up to your face, cupping your chin, his thumb stroking your skin.

He tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to make eye contact with him. He could see the emotions flicker trough your eyes, the frustration, the insecurity, the restlessness.

Slowly, his other hand caressed your hip. "Talk to me, baby," he whispered, his voice soft and comforting.

He observed your expression carefully, noticing how your forehead was slightly creased, your jaw clenched. He knew that you were holding back, trying to keep everything bottled up inside of you. He was worried about you, he knew how hard it was for you to be home and away from the BAU, but he also knew that your health was more important.

His hand on your hip slowly moved up to your stomach, his large hand feeling over the healing scar.

Your heart clenched at the gentle contact of his hand on your stomach, the memory of the stabbing still fresh in your mind.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Looking up at Spencer, you swallowed, trying to find the right words. "I'm just... I'm feeling frustrated. I want to be out there, helping the team, doing what I love," you finally admit, your voice laced with frustration.

Spencer nodded, a soft expression crossing his face. He understood how you were feeling. You were a determined, hard-working person, and being forced to stay home and rest was probably the last thing you wanted to do.

"I know you're frustrated, my love," he said, his voice still gentle, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your hip. "But you have to give yourself time to heal. You were badly hurt, we were all worried about you..."

He gently pulled you closer, his other hand moving to rest on the small of your back, keeping you close to him.

"I know it's hard, but you need to focus on your recovery right now. Healing takes time, but I promise it'll be worth it in the end." He spoke, his brown eyes locking onto yours, trying to reassure you.

His touch was warm and comforting, and you couldn't help but lean into his embrace. He was right, you knew deep down that you needed to focus on healing and recovering, but it was so hard to be patient when you wanted nothing more than to be back at the BAU.

"I just... I hate feeling weak," you admitted, your voice quiet and vulnerable. "I feel like I'm letting everyone down by being home like this."

"You're not weak," he said firmly, his grip on you tightening slightly. "You got hurt, yes, but that doesn't make you weak. You are strong, stronger than you know. And you're not letting anyone down by taking time to heal. If anything, you're helping us all by focusing on your health."

He gently threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and soothing. "We all want you back at the BAU as soon as possible, but we also want you back healthy and whole. And that means taking the time to recover properly."

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You're a valuable member of the team, but your health and well-being are more important than anything else. So please, be patient and take care of yourself. For us, for me..."

His words were like a soothing balm to your frustrated heart. You knew he was right, and you knew that taking the time to heal was the right thing to do, even if it was hard.

Nodding slightly in response, you leaned your forehead against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. "I'll do my best," you mumbled against his shirt, your voice slightly muffled. "It's just so hard to wait."

He held you close, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath your forehead. "I know it's hard," he said, his voice quieter now. "But I'll be here with you every step of the way. I'll help take care of you, make sure you're eating and resting properly."

His grip on you loosened slightly, and his hands began to glide over your back, rubbing soft circles. "And I know the team misses you too. But they understand that your health is our top priority right now."

You couldn't help but smile a little at his words, feeling a small sense of comfort. You knew that Spencer would be a constant presence in your recovery, and the thought of that helped to ease your frustration just a bit.

You tilted your head back slightly, looking up at him. "You're right," you said, your voice almost a whisper. "I just need to be more patient. And I know you'll be there to take care of me, even if I get annoyed with you."

He chuckled at that, his chest rumbling softly with the sound. "Oh, I'm sure you will get annoyed," he agreed, a small smile appearing on his lips. "But that's okay. I've learned to deal with your grumpiness over the years."

He gently pinched your side in a teasing gesture, causing you to let out a small giggle. "And just so you know, I plan on spoiling you rotten while you're recovering."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of him spoiling you. Spencer had a tendency to dote on you at the best of times, and you knew that while you were recovering from your injury, his spoiling tendencies would likely be heightened even more.

You raised an eyebrow, a small grin on your lips. "Oh really? So you're going to wait on me hand and foot, bring me food and drink whenever I want, and generally treat me like a princess?"

He smirked at your question, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. "Oh, most definitely. You're going to be pampered like a princess," he replied, his tone slightly dramatic. "I'll bring you tea, pastries, chocolates, anything and everything you desire. And as a bonus, I'll give you foot massages, back rubs, and anything else you might ask for."

You couldn't help but laugh a little at his display of melodramatic affection. It was so typically Spencer - overly grand and dramatic, yet utterly charming.

You gave him a playful swat on the arm. "You're ridiculous, you know that?" you said, shaking your head in amusement. "But I'll admit, the idea of being pampered with sweets and massages isn't too bad."

As the banter between the two of you continued, your mind drifted back to the cupcakes you were baking. You glanced down at the messy batter, which was still in the mixing bowl.

"Anyway," you said, pulling out of Spencer's arms to grab the bowl. "I should finish these. Can you grab the muffin tray for me, please?"

Spencer, ever the ever-helpful boyfriend, immediately did as you asked. He moved to a nearby cabinet and retrieved the muffin tray, bringing it over to the counter and setting it down next to the mixing bowl.

He watched as you began to scoop some of the batter into the tray, a small smile on his face. He loved watching you cook and bake. It was always a soothing and comforting sight for him, especially after a long day.

As you continued to fill each of the muffin cups, you could feel Spencer's gaze on you. It was subtle, but still present, his eyes on you. You knew he was observing your every move, admiring you quietly.

Despite your earlier frustration, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You couldn't help but feel comforted by his presence, by his silent support.

While you continued to work on the cupcakes, Spencer leaned against the countertop, watching you silently. He found himself admiring the way your fingers moved, the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you filled each of the cups with batter.

He knew that you were still frustrated about being home, about being away from the BAU, but he could also see that this little moment, this simple act of baking in the kitchen together, was a small comfort. It was a moment of normalcy among the chaos.

Soon enough, all the cups within the tray were filled with the cupcake batter. You placed the tray into the oven, setting the timer before turning back to Spencer.

He was still standing against the countertop, watching you intently. You could practically see the gears turning in his mind, the way he was studying you, analyzing your every move.

You rolled your eyes in response. "Stop analyzing me, Spence," you teased, a small smirk on your lips. "I can almost hear the gears in your brain churning."

Spencer chuckled sheepishly at your comment, caught in the act. "Sorry, it's a habit," he admitted, a sheepish grin on his face. "I can't help it, it's what I do. Besides, you know I love studying you."

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "Yes, I know you do," you replied, walking closer to him. You stopped when you were in front of him, placing your hands on his chest. "But maybe try toning down the analytical observations for a few minutes, okay? Just treat me like a normal person, not a case to be studied."

He reached up and placed his hands over yours, gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin.

"Alright, I'll try," he promised, his voice quieter now. "I'll try not to analyze you so much, just be... normal. Although, for the record, I think you're anything but normal."

You playfully swatted his chest, rolling your eyes again. "Gee, thanks," you said sarcastically, though a small smile tugged at your lips. "But seriously, just try and focus on the moment, on us. No analyzing, no deducing, no profiling, no solving puzzles in that genius brain of yours."

Spencer chuckled again, his eyes meeting yours. "Okay, okay, I get it," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "No more analyzing, no more profiling. I'll try to focus on just us, I promise."

He wrapped his arms loosely around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "And maybe, just maybe, we can talk about something other than work or injuries or any other potentially depressing topics."

You smiled, relieved that he was willing to take a break from his usual intellectual pursuits. You leaned in towards him, resting your head against his chest.

"That sounds nice," you said, closing your eyes for a moment. "How about we just... talk about anything? Whatever comes to mind, just nothing too serious or work-related."

Spencer hummed in agreement, his fingers beginning to run idly through your hair. "Alright, anything but serious topics," he repeated. "So... let's see..."

He thought for a moment, trying to come up with a light-hearted conversation starter. Suddenly, his expression brightened, an idea popping into his head.

"Hey, did you know that honey never spoils?"

Your eyebrows raised at his random fun fact. You tilted your head back to look up at him, a small smile on your face. "Honey never spoils, huh? That's something I didn't know."

You chuckled softly, shifting to rest your chin on his chest. "What other random trivia do you have hiding in that brain of yours, Spence?"

Spencer chuckled at your response, his fingers still playing with your hair. "Oh, I have a ton of random trivia stored up here," he replied, tapping his forehead lightly.

He thought for a moment, trying to remember another fun fact. "Oh, I got one. Did you know that there are more possible combinations in a game of chess than there are atoms in the observable universe?"

Your eyes widened at his next random fact. "More possible combinations in a game of chess than there are atoms in the observable universe?" you repeated, impressed.

You looked up at him, a bewildered expression on your face. "How do you even know that? And more importantly, why do you know that?"

Spencer shrugged, a grin on his face. "I read a lot of random things," he answered simply. "And my mind seems to just retain all this information for some reason. I guess it's just how my brain works."

He paused for a moment, his tone turning playful. "And as for why I know that particular fact... well, maybe it just stuck in my head because I like chess."

You rolled your eyes at his comment, a small smile on your lips. "Of course you like chess," you replied, pretending to be exasperated. "You're a total nerd."

Spencer feigned offense at your comment, a mock-offended expression on his face. "Hey, I'll have you know that liking chess does not make me a nerd," he protested. "It's a strategic game of skill and intellect. It's a perfectly respectable hobby.

You couldn't help but laugh at his response. "Oh, right. My mistake," you teased. "Liking chess definitely doesn't make you a nerd. And neither does knowing random trivia about the size of the universe or the properties of ancient artifacts. Nope, definitely not nerd-like behavior at all."

Spencer chuckled at your reply, conceding defeat. "Fine, fine, you have a point," he admitted, his tone slightly sheepish. "I guess I do have a few nerdy tendencies."

He continued to stroke your hair, a small smile on his face. "But in my defense, I think my knowledge and interests make me charming in my own unique way."

You couldn't help but smile at his confident statement. "Oh, charming, huh?" you replied, teasing him. "Is that what we're calling it now? Your endless stream of trivia and random facts is considered charming?"

Spencer feigned offense once again, his hand still playing with your hair. "Hey, I'm not just some nerd who spouts random facts all the time," he protested. "I have charm, intelligence, wit, and a sarcastic sense of humor. Those are all attractive qualities, you know."

You laughed softly, feeling a wave of affection wash over you. "Alright, alright, I admit it," you said, still gazing up at him. "You're charming, intelligent, witty, and you have a sarcastic sense of humor. Not to mention your adorable boyish good looks."

Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly at your compliment, his smile broadening. "Adorable boyish good looks, huh?" he repeated, pretending to be unaffected by your words. "I'll have you know that I'm not just some cute, baby-faced boy. I'm a mature and respectable man."

You laughed again, not fooled by his attempt to play it cool. "Oh, really? A mature and respectable man, huh? Sounds very official, Dr. Reid."

You reached up to playfully pat his chest. "It's okay to admit that you're an adorable genius sometimes, you know. It won't make you any less mature or respectable."

Spencer rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face. "Fine, fine, I'll admit it," he said, feigning resignation. "I am an adorable genius. But don't let it go to my head, okay?"

You chuckled, knowing that it was already too late for that. "Don't worry, I won't let it go to your head," you teased, leaning up to brush a kiss against his jaw. "Well, not too much, at least."

Spencer's heart skipped a beat at the brief press of your lips, a small shiver running down his spine. He tilted his head down to meet your gaze, his eyes locking with yours. "You're enjoying this a little too much, y'know," he murmured, a mock pout on his face.

You chuckled, a mischievous gleam in your eyes. "Oh, am I?" you asked, feigning innocence. "Am I enjoying making fun of my brilliant but adorable boyfriend a bit too much?"

Spencer huffed playfully, although a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, you are," he replied. "You're really milking this, aren't you? I'm not sure if I should be amused or annoyed."

You chuckled again, enjoying the banter between the two of you. "Hmm, let me think," you said, pretending to consider it. "Maybe a bit of both?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow, his expression bordering on mock irritation. "Both, huh? I suppose that's fair," he conceded, his tone still playful. "I can be both amused and annoyed at my girlfriend's relentless teasing. Seems like a typical day in our relationship, really."

You laughed, your hand still pressed against his chest. "It's all part of the fun," you replied, a warm smile on your face. "You know you secretly love it when I tease you."

As your conversation continued, a sudden sound interrupted you both. The oven timer went off, signaling that the cupcakes were done. Well, that was fast.

Spencer's eyes flicked towards the oven, then back to yours. "Looks like the cupcakes are done," he noted, his fingers still idly playing with your hair.

You smiled up at him, realizing that your little distraction had made the baking time fly by. "Looks like it," you agreed, gently untangling yourself from his embrace to attend to the cupcakes.

"Stay there," you instructed, giving him a warning look. "You're not distracting me again with your adorableness, I need to take these out before they burn."

Spencer held up his hands in mock surrender, a playful pout on his lips. "Alright, alright, I won't distract you," he promised, though his eyes followed you as you moved over to the oven.

He watched as you opened the oven and carefully pulled out the tray of freshly baked cupcakes. His gaze lingered on you as you set them down to cool on the countertop.

You laughed, shaking your head at his dramatic response. "That's right," you replied. "Just sit there and keep your charm to yourself, Dr. Reid. Let me finish these without any further distractions."

Spencer pouted slightly, crossing his arms in mock disappointment. "Alright, alright," he said, leaning back against the counter. "I'll be the epitome of patience and restraint, I promise. No more flirting, no more distractions. I'll just... stare at you from over here and admire your baking skills."

You chuckled, appreciating his mock-disappointment. "You flatter me, Spence," you replied, setting the tray of cupcakes on the counter to cool. "But I need less staring and more silence if you don't mind. This frosting isn't going to do itself."

Spencer held up his hands in surrender, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Okay, okay, no more staring. I'll be the model of obedience and silence, I promise. I'll just... be over here, quietly admiring your frosting skills." He paused, his gaze drifting towards the cooling cupcakes. "And trying not to drool over the fact that I can't eat them just yet."

You laughed again, shaking your head at his eagerness. "Patience, Dr. Reid," you said, moving to collect the necessary supplies for the frosting. "You have to wait until they're cooled off properly before you can devour them like a hungry puppy."

As you busied yourself with the frosting, you stole glances at Spencer, amused by his barely contained excitement.

Spencer did his best to contain his excitement, his eyes following your every move as you set up the frosting supplies. His fingers drummed idly against the countertop, and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he tried to keep from drooling over the cupcakes.

"How long until they're cooled off, again?" he asked, his voice slightly strained. "Just... curious."

ou shot him an amused smile, continuing to focus on the task at hand. "A few more minutes," you replied, your tongue peeking out of the corner of your mouth as you carefully swirled the chocolate frosting onto one of the cupcakes. "And no touching, no trying to sneak a taste."

Spencer groaned, the sound more of a half-whine than anything else. "But they look so good," he protested, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the countertop to restrain himself. "Just a small taste? Please?"

You shook your head, your smile broadening. "No, no, no," you said firmly, playfully wagging your finger at him. "You have to wait, just like the rest of us mortals. No special treatment for hungry geniuses."

Spencer let out an exaggerated sigh, his shoulders slumping in mock dejection. "But... but I'm hungry," he whined, a pout forming on his face. "And I'm a genius. Surely that counts for something."

You chuckled at his pitiful display, your resolve starting to waver. "You're adorable when you pout," you admitted, placing the pastry bag down and turning to face him. "But you still have to wait, I'm afraid. No special privileges for genius boyfriends."

Spencer leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands, and continued to pout like a child. "It's not fair," he protested, his puppy-dog eyes begging for a taste of the cupcakes. "Why can't I get a little taste, just a tiny one? I'll be good, I promise."

You laughed, your resolve weakening further. "You're really laying it on thick, aren't you?" you teased, unable to resist his pathetic puppy-dog expression. "You're not going to give up until you get a taste, are you?"

Spencer shook his head vigorously, his pout only deepening. "No, I'm not," he replied, clasping his hands together, as if in prayer. "Please, please, please, can I have just one taste? Just a tiny bite, that's all I ask."

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain a stern expression, but failing miserably. "You're impossible," you said, shaking your head in mock annoyance. "But I can never seem to say no to your puppy-dog eyes."

Spencer's face immediately brightened, his pout melting into a hopeful smile. "Does that mean you'll let me have a taste?" he asked, his voice brimming with anticipation.

You sighed, knowing that you were completely whipped by his adorable pleading. "Alright, fine," you relented, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "You can have a taste. But just a little one, okay? Don't go eating half the batch before the rest of us get some."

Spencer's face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. He practically bounded over to the counter, his eyes fixed on the cupcakes as if he'd never seen anything more delicious. "I promise, I'll only have a small taste," he declared, although, from the eager way he was eyeing the cupcakes, you had your doubts.

You chuckled, watching him with amusement as he hovered impatiently by the tray of now-cooled cupcakes. "Easy there, tiger," you said, playfully swatting his hand back. "I meant it when I said just a small taste. Don't get greedy."

Spencer sheepishly withdrew his hand, chagrined. "Sorry, sorry," he muttered, his eyes still glued to the cupcakes. "I won't get greedy, I promise. Just a little taste, that's all I'm asking for."

You nodded, accepting his apology, and handed him a cupcake with a healthy dose of frosting. "Alright, here you go. One small taste, as promised."

Spencer carefully accepted the cupcake, cradling it in his hands like it was a precious artifact. He brought it up to his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut in anticipation as he took a small bite. A satisfied moan escaped his lips as the frosting hit his tongue. "Oh, god, that's good," he murmured, his eyes opening again as he savored the flavor. "So good."

You chuckled, watching as his expression went from eager to blissfully content in an instant. "You look like you're in ecstasy," you teased gently, leaning against the counter. "I take it you approve?"

Spencer nodded fervently, swallowing the bite he'd taken. "Approve is an understatement," he replied. "This is... this is a religious experience. It's like a fluffy, sugary cloud of joy exploding in my mouth."

You laughed again at his dramatic response, touched by the simple joy a single bite of your cupcakes had brought him. "Well, I'm glad it's living up to your high standards, Dr. Reid," you quipped, leaning in closer to steal a tiny bit of frosting from his cupcake.

Spencer barely seemed to notice the loss of frosting on his cupcake, still caught up in his food-induced euphoria. "It far exceeds my high standards," he mumbled, taking another bite and letting out another moan of pleasure. "I might have to marry you just for these cupcakes."

You chuckled, his declaration both charming and comical. "Oh, really? Is that the only reason you'd consider marrying me?" you teased, enjoying the way his guard was completely down in his blissful cupcake-induced state.

Spencer looked up from his cupcake, meeting your gaze with a goofy smile. "Well, no," he admitted, a bit of frosting smeared on his lip. "But these cupcakes definitely make the list of reasons why I should marry you."

You reached out, wiping the bit of frosting from his lip with your thumb. "Good to know your stomach is a major consideration in your decision-making process," you teased, a soft smile on your face.

Spencer chuckled, licking a stray bit of frosting off his lip. "Hey, it's an important factor in life decisions, you can't fault me for that," he replied, his eyes sparkling. "Good food is a non-negotiable in any relationship."

You rolled your eyes, amused by his priorities. "Alright, I'll give you that," you relented. "But what about love and commitment? Those still make your list of must-haves, right?"

Spencer's expression softened and he reached out to take your hand. "Of course they do," he said, lacing his fingers through yours. "Love, commitment, trust, all the important stuff. But good food is definitely a big bonus."

You smiled at the touch of his hand and pulled him closer to you. "I guess I can live with that," you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Especially since I plan on keeping you well-fed."

You quickly snatch a huge bite into the cupcake in Spencer's hand, your mouth getting frosting smeared all over.

"Hey!" he protested, a mix of shock and amusement in his eyes. "That's cheating!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his flabbergasted expression, your mouth still filled with cupcake goodness. "I couldn't resist," you mumbled, through your mouthful of frosting and cupcake base. "Besides, sharing is caring!"

Spencer tried to pout, but the corners of his mouth were twitching with suppressed laughter. "That was just greedy," he protested, but his tone was playful. "You could've at least asked first!"

You swallowed the bite of cupcake, a cheeky grin on your face. "But where's the fun in asking when I could just steal a bite?" you teased, sticking your tongue out at him, still covered in frosting.

Spencer rolled his eyes, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "You're wicked, you know that?" he said, reaching out to smear some of the frosting onto your nose.

You let out a squeal as the cold frosting touched your nose, giggling at his antics. "Hey, no fair!" you protested, trying to dodge his frosting-covered thumb. "You know I'm ticklish there!"

Spencer chuckled, relishing in the joyful moment. "Oh, I know," he replied, a mischievous grin on his face. "It's just so adorable when you squeak." He attempted to dot your nose with more frosting, laughing at your attempts to evade him.

You continued to laugh involuntarily as he kept trying to smear frosting on your nose, the feeling both ticklish and cold. "Spence, stop, stop!" you gasped, trying to swat his hand away. "You're going to make a mess!"

Spencer ignored your plea, laughing at your attempts to keep him from decorating your nose with frosting. "I thought you were the one who said sharing is caring," he teased, continuing to dab frosting onto your nose. "Now you're trying to deny me the opportunity to share with you!"

You finally managed to grab his wrist, stopping his frosting assault on your nose. Instead taking his thumb covered with frosting into your mouth.

Spencer's eyes widened as a shiver ran down his spine, and a flush of heat crept up his neck. He let out a soft gasp at the unexpected feeling.

Your tongue swirled around his thumb, licking off the frosting. You looked up at him through your lashes, a playful gleam in your eyes. His breath caught in his throat as he watched you, his face growing redder by the second.

He slowly pulled his thumb from your mouth, reluctantly breaking the contact. His pulse was racing, his throat dry. He swallowed hard, trying to regain control of his racing heart. "That... that was a bit of a dirty move," he managed to splutter out, sounding strained.

You smirked at his flustered state, enjoying the effect you had on him. "I just didn't want you to waste any more frosting," you replied, feigning innocence. "You were making quite a mess, after all."

Spencer's brain was having a hard time forming coherent thoughts, his mind hazy with the sensation of your tongue on his skin. He shook his head, trying to regain his composure. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked, his voice a bit huskier than usual.

You bit back a laugh, the sight of him so flustered was highly amusing. "Maybe a little," you admitted, shrugging. "It's not every day I get to see the great Dr. Reid rendered speechless, after all."

Spencer huffed out a laugh but couldn't argue. "Okay, you got me there," he admitted his cheeks still a little flushed from your earlier actions. "But I feel I should warn you, I don't shy away from retaliating."

You grab a napkin, wipe at your mouth and nose, getting all the frosting off, before throwing it into the trash bin.

A thrill of excitement shot through you at his warning, your pulse quickening. "Oh, really?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow. "And what, pray tell, does this retaliation involve?"

Spencer could definitely be dominating if need be. But he was a soft dom. He had tried being more rough and demanding with you during sex, but he didn't like it. Didn't like degrading you or being awful to you despite it only being for the act.

You watched as the corners of his mouth tugged upward into a mischievous smile. "Let's just say," he said slowly, his voice dropping an octave. "I could think of a few ways to get payback that don't involve pastries."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the sudden low timber of his voice and the look in his eyes. A mixture of anticipation and excitement fluttered in your stomach. "Is that a threat or a promise, Reid?" you asked, your voice slightly breathless.

Spencer stepped closer to you, the gap between you diminishing rapidly. "Both," he replied, his tone dropping even lower. "A threat of what I'll do to you, and a promise of enjoying every second of it."

You shivered again, your body responding to his proximity, the heat in his gaze. "Careful, Spence," you warned, your voice softer than you'd intended. "I might just call your bluff."

"That's all the invitation I need," he murmured, his body now flush against yours. He reached up, gently wrapping a hand around your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. His brown eyes were nearly black with desire. "You have no idea the things I've been wanting to do to you, sweetheart," he murmured, his thumb brushing against your lower lip.

His touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your breathing growing ragged. "And here I'd thought you were a perfect gentleman," you managed to tease, your voice betraying your own desire. "Little did I know you have a deviant side too."

"Oh, you have no idea," he murmured again, his eyes roaming over your face. His finger ghosted over your neck, the skin there heating under his touch. "I'm not a saint, sweetheart. Not by a long shot." His lips twitched into a small, almost predatory smile. "And when it comes to you, I'm practically a sinner."

Your knees almost buckled at his words, your body reacting strongly to the mixture of his proximity and his voice. "Well, if that's the case," you said, your voice trembling, "then I suppose I'm damned too."

A low growl escaped Spencer's throat, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. "Damned? No, love," he murmured, before swooping down to claim your lips in a bruising kiss. His mouth was hot and demanding, his kiss rough with pent-up desire.

Your gasp was swallowed by the fervor of his kiss, your arms immediately going around his neck to pull him closer. His tongue licked its way into your mouth, claiming every inch with an urgency that belied his earlier restraint. His hands moved to your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh as if he was afraid you would slip through his grasp if he didn't anchor you to him.

The kiss between you was hungry, a clash of lips and teeth and tongue, spurred on by the weeks of missed intimacy. Spencer pulled you closer, his fingers digging into your hips as if he couldn't bear to let go. When he finally pulled back for air, both of you were panting heavily, your cheeks flushed and your breaths mingling. "You drive me insane," he muttered against your lips, his voice gravelly. "You have no idea what you do to me, baby."

"The feeling is mutual," you panted, your breath stuttering in your chest from the kiss. You could feel his desire rolling off him in waves, his body pressed tightly against yours, the heat from his skin burning through the thin barrier of your clothing. You ran your fingers through the messy curls at the back of his head, tugging lightly. "I don't think I can wait any longer, Spence," you admitted, your voice low and hoarse. "I need you. Now."

Spencer shuddered at your words, a low moan escaping from his lips. The need in your voice, the desperate wanting, was like an aphrodisiac. He captured your mouth again in another hungry kiss, this one more urgent than the last. "I don't want to wait either," he muttered against your lips, his hands roaming over your body, pulling at your clothes, seeking skin. "I've missed you so much."

Your own hands began to wander, pulling at buttons and zippers, desperate to feel his skin against yours. "God, I've missed you too," you gasped, your fingers finally finding their way under his shirt, running over the bare skin of his stomach and chest. "Please, Spence. I need you. Need you now."

With a gentleness, Spencer lifted you and settled you down on the cool countertop of the kitchen. He kept most of his weight off of you, placing his hands on either side of you so he could hover over you. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm fine," you assured him, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "I just need to feel you, Spence. All of you." You pulled his head down to yours, kissing him fiercely, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. "I need you," you repeated against his lips, your fingers running over the bare skin of his back, feeling the muscles flexing beneath your touch.

Spencer groaned at the feel of your legs around him, the sound deep and primal. He slid his tongue into your mouth, the kiss turning heated and desperate. His body trembled with the need to be closer to you, to feel all of you against him. "I'm right here, sweetheart," he murmured against your lips, his hands roaming over your body. "I'm not going anywhere."

Your heart was pounding, your body arching into his touch as he caressed you. "I need you naked, Spence. I need to feel you against me. All of you," you panted, tugging at the hem of his shirt. "Now. Please."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He quickly removed his shirt, then leaned down to pull yours off as well. Your skin was warm and smooth beneath his fingers, his own body thrumming with need. He pressed himself against you, his bare chest against your chest, the feeling of skin against skin sending a shiver through him. "God, sweetheart," he muttered, his voice guttural. "You feel so good."

"So do you," you gasped, your hands running over the bare planes of his chest and stomach. You could feel the heat of his skin against yours, the weight of his body pressing you into the countertop, and it only served to fuel the desire burning within you. "Touch me, Spence," you begged, your voice ragged. "Please, I need your hands on me. Everywhere."

"I'm not going to make you wait any longer," he murmured, his hands beginning to wander over your skin. He touched every inch of you that he could reach, fingers skimming over your shoulders, your collarbone, your stomach. "You're beautiful," he repeated, his voice low. "So damn beautiful." His hands continued to roam, finding every sensitive spot on your body, setting your nerve endings on fire.

He placed his palm against your stomach, pushing you carefully to lay down flat against the countertop. Spencer's hands were shaking slightly, his eyes dark with desire as they roamed over your body. He gripped the waistband of your shorts, his knuckles brushing against the sensitive skin of your stomach. He began to pull them down, his movements gentle but insistent, your underwear following closely behind. "Lift your hips," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You did as he said, lifting your hips off the countertop, his hands pulling your shorts and underwear down your legs and discarding them on the floor. You were completely bare before him now, the cool air causing gooseflesh to rise on your skin. But Spencer's heated gaze made you feel anything but cold, his eyes trailing over every inch of you with a look of reverence.

He ran a hand up your inner thigh, the movement gentle yet possessive. "You're so beautiful, pretty girl," he said, his voice thick with emotion. His fingers traced the curve of your hip, his calloused skin sending shivers through you. "I've missed seeing you like this." He leaned down, his lips trailing over your stomach, his mouth moving lower...

The feel of his lips against your skin sent a rush of heat through you, your body already responding to his touch. You reached down, running your fingers through his curls, holding him close. "Spence," you gasped, your voice ragged with need. "Please. I need you."

Spencer's eyes met yours, his gaze burning. "I know, sweetheart," he murmured, his fingers digging into your hips. "Just a minute. Let me taste you first."

Your breath hitched at his words, your body already arching towards him in anticipation. You watched as he lowered his head, his mouth moving to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The feeling of his lips and tongue against your skin was intoxicating, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He took his time, his kisses slow and deliberate, his tongue tracing patterns against your skin that had you writhing beneath him. He worshipped your body with his mouth, his lips moving ever closer to where you needed him most.

You were panting now, your hands clenching in his hair, your body arching off the countertop, seeking more of his touch. "Spence, please," you pleaded, your voice strained. "I can't take any more. I need you, now."

"Just a little more, sweetheart," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot against you. "I want you to come like this. I want to taste you when you're falling apart for me."

Those words, that low, gravelly tone in his voice, almost sent you over the edge alone. But then he moved his mouth to where you needed it most, and a cry tore from your lips as he began to taste you, his tongue and lips moving against your folds.

He tugged you closer to the edge, making you squeak as he chuckled between your legs, draping them over his shoulders.

It was hard to form coherent thoughts, your mind filled with nothing but sensations — the feel of his mouth against you, the heat of his breath, the possessive grip of his hands on your hips. You arched off the countertop, your body taut as a bowstring, each flick of his tongue against your clit bringing you closer to the edge.

"God, sweetheart, you taste so good," he murmured against you, his voice rough. "So sweet. I could do this for hours and it would never be enough." He increased the pressure, his tongue moving with a purpose, driving you higher and higher.

It was too much, the pleasure building to a peak that you knew you couldn't hold back from. "Spence, I'm...I'm coming," you panted, your body trembling. "I'm coming, oh god."

''Come for me, come on my tongue, pretty girl,'' Spencer muttered against your clit.

He didn't let up, his mouth and tongue continuing their relentless assault until you were crying out his name, your orgasm ripping through you, your body arching up off the countertop. He held you there, his mouth against you, his hands steadying your hips until you were spent, your body boneless against the countertop.

You lay panting, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. Spencer moved back up your body, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you. "You're so beautiful when you come," he murmured, his voice thick with need. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a deep kiss.

After a few moments, Spencer pulled back, his breathing still labored. He looked down at you, his eyes roaming over your flushed face and disheveled hair. "You okay, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.

You nodded, your body still feeling boneless and sated. "Yeah, I'm okay," you murmured. "That was...incredible." You reached up to touch his face, your fingers tracing over his stubbled jaw.

Spencer leaned into your touch, his eyes closing at the feel of your fingers against his skin. "Good," he replied, his voice soft. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He glanced down at the countertop, realizing just now where he had taken you. "I wasn't too...enthusiastic, was I?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "No, you were perfect," you assured him. "But, you did just eat me out, right next to the cupcakes.''

Spencer's eyes widened as he looked down at the countertop again, realizing the exact same thing. "Oh. Right," he said, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "Well, I guess we did." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I got a little...carried away, I suppose."

You laughed again, amused by his reaction. "It's okay," you reassured him. "I don't think it's the first time we've...defiled the kitchen countertop.''

Spencer smiled at that, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "No, you're right," he agreed. "We have been known to...christen multiple surfaces throughout the house."

"I don't think there's anywhere in this house that hasn't been defiled by us yet," you teased, a grin spreading across your face.

"Well, we have been living together for a while now," he reasoned, his hand running idly over your bare hip. "It's a wonder we haven't broken any of the furniture yet."

You let out a small chuckle, ''The day will come.''

Spencer laughed at that, ''Oh, I'm waiting for that day.''

After a moment of comfortable silence, Spencer spoke up again. "We should probably clean up," he murmured, his hand still running over your hip. "You're a little..sticky."

"Yeah, you're right," you agreed, a smile playing on your lips. "And we should probably do something about all the...evidence that we just did what we did right in front of the cupcakes."

Spencer chuckled, his eyes meeting yours. "Yes, that too," he agreed. "But first, I need to take care of you." He shifted his weight, gently lifting you off of the countertop and into his arms.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing him to carry you out of the kitchen and down the hallway toward the bathroom. "Taking care of me, huh?" you teased, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

"Of course," he replied, his arms tightening around you. "I need to make sure you're comfortable and taken care of, especially after I essentially manhandled you on the kitchen countertop."

You laughed, enjoying the feeling of being held in his strong arms. "I think it's safe to say I didn't mind the manhandling," you assured him, kissing his neck.

He chuckled, his grip loosening as he set you down on the bathroom counter. "I'm glad to hear that," he said, his hands moving to your hips as he gazed down at you. "But still, I want to make sure you're okay. That I didn't get too...carried away."

You met his gaze, seeing the concern and tenderness in his eyes. "I'm okay," you reassured him, cupping his face in your hands. "And you didn't get too carried away. I enjoyed every moment of it, I promise. And I know you'd never hurt me."

A relieved smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he leaned into your touch, pressing a kiss to your palm. "Good," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I just want you to always feel safe and comfortable with me. I never want you to feel like I'm taking things too far or being too...forceful."

Spencer reached for a washcloth, turning on the sink and running it under warm water. He squeezed out the excess water, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know I can get...carried away sometimes," he admitted, his voice low. "Especially when I'm with you. But I never want you to feel overpowered or uncomfortable."

"I know," you assured him, reaching out to brush your fingertips against his cheek. "And I don't. You always make me feel safe and cared for, even in the most... intense moments."

He smiled, leaning into your touch. "Good," he murmured, taking the washcloth and gently wiping away your essence. His touch was tender and careful, his movements slow and methodical.

"You're always so gentle and caring," you observed, watching as he cleaned you with the cloth. "Even when you're being...dominant."

He chuckled, his eyes meeting yours. "I may be dominant, but that doesn't mean I don't care about your comfort and pleasure," he said, his tone low and steady. "I would never do anything to hurt or diminish you. I love you too much for that."

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you at his words. "I know you do," you murmured, reaching up to brush your fingers through his hair. "And I love you too. I feel safe with you, no matter what we're doing. You always take care of me."

He set the washcloth aside, his eyes full of tenderness as he looked at you. "I will always take care of you," he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. "You're the most important thing to me, and I will always do everything in my power to make sure you're happy and safe."

You melted at his words, a wave of affection and love washing over you. "You're such a sap," you teased, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But I love it."

He chuckled, a mock offended look crossing his face. "Hey, I'll have you know that I am a very rational, logical FBI agent," he protested, his tone light. "I cannot possibly be labeled a sap."

"Oh, of course," you agreed, laughter in your voice. "Because FBI agents are known for being rational and logical, and definitely not sappy at all when it comes to their partners."

He tried to maintain his mock offense, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Alright, alright," he conceded, his eyes sparkling. "I may be a little sappy when it comes to you. But I blame you for making me this way."

''Mhm.. definitely my fault.''

Spencer's hands came up to cup your face, pulling you gently against him as he leaned down and captured your lips in a tender kiss. The kiss was slow and sweet, full of affection and tenderness. As the kiss deepened, his arms came around you, pulling you flush against his body.

You melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lost yourself in the feel of his mouth against yours. As the kiss finally ended, he pulled back just far enough to look into your eyes. "I love you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

Your heart fluttered at his words, your entire being filled with a sense of love and security. "I love you too," you breathed, your fingers tracing over his stubbled jaw. He pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"You're everything to me," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You closed your eyes, relishing the feel of his arms around you and the sound of his voice. "You're everything to me too," you replied, your fingers running through his hair. "I can't imagine my life without you." He lifted his head, smiling down at you. "Good thing you don't have to," he said, his tone light.

"You're stuck with me forever, sweetheart."

''I don't mind.''

[dwaekkicidal]

Sharing is Caring[1: 3racha]

˚ʚ3racha x Fem!readerɞ˚

ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: After finding what Stray Kids' closest female friend really does with their leader behind closed doors, Jisung and Changbin decide they want in too.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 6.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, slight angst before the first divider? But it gets resolved like immediately, fluff, nicknames used: 'baby girl, bunny, jagi(ya), and baby,' ot8✗reader mentions but smut is written for 3racha✗reader, Chan✗reader action, Changbin✗reader action, some m✗m action(Chan✗Jisung mentions), fingering, squirting, exhibitionism & vouyerism, rough sex, (1½) pvssy slaps, hair pulling, overstimulation (?), readers a brat for 2 seconds, Channie is referred to as “Daddy” and Changbin as “Sir”, p in v, creampie & no protection (don't be silly wrap ur willy also pee after sex pls), blowjobs, a handjob, I think thats it?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: an audio I heard a few weeks ago inspired this... I actually have no clue how this came out of that audio but you’re welcome (or I'm sorry)

Sharing is Caring Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ PSA: Sorry if you find this annoying, but I put so much yapping talking that I was only comfortable posting this with color-coded dialogues: If you hate it let me know so that I don’t do it again, but it kinda worked out so I kept it in instead of adding a million more words for nothing

Chris | Binnie | Hannie | You

You’re currently sitting in Stray Kids’ studio at the JYP building. Chris sits beside you in the other office chair at the desk, while Changbin and Han sit on the couch. Both staring holes into your heads as yours stare on the floor in embarrassment. They just walked in on you and Chris fucking in the studio, right in the very chair Chris was sitting in.

Speaking of, you see in the corner of your eye as he rubs his hands all over his face in frustration, his ears a very bright red. “Listen.. Normally we wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that in a public setting.. But I didn’t know you two were coming today and we got carried away..”

You glance up to see Changbin frown at the older boy, his eyes full of anger. You look over and check on Jisung, his eyes glossy. You furrow your eyebrows and lift your head fully. “Hannie..” You start, but immediately give up on your sentence when you see Changbin’s eye snap his eyes to you, the anger still prominent.

“Okay well… I don’t think that's the problem here… Do what you want, hyung. It’s your life..” Han starts, staring at you for a moment before continuing with a deep breath. “But you know how both of us feel about her. Hell. How the entire group feels about her. You have to see this from our point of view.”

Chan fixes his posture at the sentence and you look between the boys with pure confusion on your face. “Huh??”

“In my defense, I didn’t know how you guys felt until we were already messing around. We had already agreed on this arrangement months prior to the first person saying anything.”

“Arrangement?” Binnie says with the most attitude you’ve ever seen come out of him.

“We’re not dating.. We’re just…. friends with benefits. Sex with no extra emotional strings attached.” Chan sighs loudly, rubbing the back of his neck and continuing. “In all honesty, me and her talked about including you guys but we were afraid it would ruin things. Ruin the group as a whole.”

You start to feel frustrated, they're talking as if you’re not even in the room and when that's mixed with the ruined orgasm you just had, you can't help but get annoyed. “Hello?? I’m still here by the way. Can one of you tell me what the fuck is going on before I leave.” You narrow your eyes at the three of them and cross your arms. They’re caught off guard at your tone, you’ve never spoken to them in any tone outside of a sugary sweet one with pretty doe eyes. Even Changbin’s demeanor falters before he cracks his own neck. “Bunny. You haven’t noticed anything odd? How Hyunjin paints you every chance he gets? How Yongbok gives you all kinds of sweets and says that he ‘baked too much’? Not even the princess treatment that SEUNGMIN of all people gives you?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him before sputtering out, “W-Well yes, but I thought that was just normal behavior.”

Han lets out a tense laugh at that, when you turn to him he decides to continue for Changbin. “Jagiya, we don’t even do these things with each other… all of us are pretty in love with you. We have been for a long time to be honest. Though.. some of us…” he pauses before stealing a glance at the timid boy beside him. “Some of us fell faster and harder than the others. At the end of the day, you have all 8 of us wrapped around your finger.”

All the attitude and anger in your body is suddenly flushed out, replaced with confusion and surprise, “Wait..” When you think back to what Changbin said, the pieces start to click together. All 3 boys watch your reaction nervously, and Changbin lets out a slight sigh of relief when he sees the gears turning in your head. “She actually had no clue.”

“I tried to not blatantly say anything about it once I found out. But I honestly thought you knew about some of the members, baby girl?”

“I had no clue… I’m so sorry Binnie, Hannie..” You hear Han let out a sigh as your eyes watch Changbin’s, they stare into you less angrily but it makes the hurt more evident. You frown sadly at him and let your head hang, not sure what to do with this situation.

“It’s okay, Jagi. Now that I know you were oblivious about our feelings, I don’t think I’m as upset. More so at Channie-hyung for getting to you before us. But I’ll get over that feeling soon.. I don’t know about him though.”

The man in question’s eyes never leave your form, but he takes Han’s words to heart and takes a few deep breaths. “I don’t know. I’m quite hurt but Han is right. It’s honestly our own faults for not being clear with you.”

His words hang in the air for a while before you fix your posture and look over at Chris, meeting his eyes. He tilts his head at you, but you quickly turn to look between the other boys. “What's going on in your head, pretty?”

“Mm.. Well Channie did already spill the beans on what we spoke about.” You say, looking up at each boy before being met with confusion on each of their pretty faces. You clear your throat before continuing, “About… me being with all of you guys..” You pause once more to gauge their reactions, when you don’t see any negativity you finish your thought: “If you guys are okay with sharing, I don’t think I would mind dating all of you. At the end of the day I have been loyal to you guys anyways... So if everyone is okay with it, it could work.”

Chris’ head snaps to the couch to try and read their expressions. He can see Changbin thinking deeply about it and the faint blush on Han’s cheeks more or less gives him an answer. “Only if you guys are okay with it. I told you already, even before I knew about everybody’s feelings I was easing her into the idea of being with us all, whether that be through dating or her being our mutual friend with benefits.”

Han nods and looks over at Changbin, nervously watching his reaction as he mumbles out an “I’m okay with it.. Only if Changbin-hyung is too.” At the mention of his name, Changbin blinks multiple times to bring himself back down to earth. Once he realizes the outcome of this is in his hands, he gulps and clears his throat. “I… I don’t know..”

“If you need time to think about it, I’ll give you as much time as you need. In the meantime, Chris and I will stop everything we do and we’ll go based on what you guys are okay with.” Changbin furrows his eyebrows and looks at his hyung, who nods in agreement with your promise. “I told you, we spoke about this before. Many times actually. If enough of you weren’t okay with it, we agreed to cut things off completely for the sake of our friendships being more important.”

Changbin slowly nods, “I… I need some time to think about it.” You and Chris nod before meeting each other’s eyes for a moment. “Okay well, we should head home then. The song can wait, we’ve all had a long night.”

Everyone silently agrees and one by one the studio empties. You were the last to leave, but you quickly caught up to Changbin, wanting to have a 1 on 1 chat with him. “Binnie. I really am sorry. If I had known earlier then I wouldn’t have let us do this for so long without involving you guys. I feel horrible.”

He smiles softly at you, placing a hand on your head and massaging your scalp with his fingertips. “I know, Bunny. I’m not really mad anymore, I just don’t know if I can handle sharing you. Jisung and I spoke about it a few times but we thought it wasn’t even on the table.”

You nod and shuffle on your feet. He thinks for a moment before looking at you nervously, “Can you answer a question I have truthfully?” When you nod eagerly he continues, “...If you would date us all, as in all 8 of us.. Could you actually see yourself loving us all equally?”

You bite your lip before laughing nervously, “That’s honestly not even a question to me… I already love you all equally. I wasn’t lying when I said I had been loyal to you guys ‘anyways’. I turned down so many idols and random people on the street because I knew I had you guys. I knew how much I loved you all and I knew wasting time with these people to get over my feelings wouldn’t be worth it. So I sat patiently and waited to see how things would go.”

He lets out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding, letting out a light laugh of relief. “Can I hug you, Bunny?”

“Please.” He smiles and pulls you into his arms, the two of you stay in the embrace until Changbin gets a call from Chan, telling him that the taxi is outside and they’re waiting for him. You say your goodbyes and go your separate ways.

Now we wait..

A few days pass as normal, and you almost forget about what happened in the studio. When you’re lounging on the couch scrolling through a streaming site, you hear your phone ding a few times and it makes your stomach drop. You drop the remote immediately and in seconds your phone is unlocked with your text messages open.

Your hand slaps over your mouth and you squeal, not being able to contain your excitement, and you spend the next few days excitedly preparing yourself for Friday night.

When the night comes, you walk into their dorm as if it was any other day. When you meet the eyes of the men sitting at the dining table, you hesitate. All three sets of eyes look up at you, the older boys hold soft smiles while the youngest is biting his lip with red cheeks.

After some time of the awkwardness in the air fading, the four of you talk boundaries. In summary, you all agreed on:

Changbin only wants to fuck you, Chan and Jisung are open to anybody but mainly want you, and you want all 3 of them.

Specific kinks were talked about, but everyone agreed on rougher play for the night, just nothing too extreme yet. Specifically yes to spanks, rough fucking, choking, and hair pulling.

Chris closes it out with a few statements: “If, at any point, you aren’t sure to keep going, we use the traffic light system. Just ask her what her color is and she’ll respond with ‘red’ for stop, ‘yellow’ for slow down, and ‘green’ for keep going. And aftercare is a MUST. You don’t give her aftercare, you don’t get her at all.” When the other men agree, he leads you guys to the dining room where the coffee table is already moved to the side.

Before you know it, you’re sitting on their dorm’s couch, shyly playing with the strings on your sweatpants. All 3 men are standing between you and the tv, thanking every god they know that Hyunjin is out of the country for the week. Chan warily looks over his members faces, looking for any sign of hesitation. Instead he’s met with both basically eye-fucking you and Jisung already hard as a rock through his jeans. He laughs to himself quietly before looking over at you, initially looking for an unsure reaction from you as well. But when he watches your eyes jump between the other 2 and you bite your lip, he takes a breath before speaking.

“Since this would be both of your first times with her, I’ll show you all the good spots and how to play with her properly.” You roll your eyes and frown up at him from your spot on the couch. He gives you an amused smile and you watch from the corner of your eye as Changbin grabs a chair from the dining room, placing it in front of the tv so that it faces the couch. Chris swiftly pulls you to your feet before taking a seat on the chair. He pulls you into his lap and makes you face the other 2 men, who are now seated on the couch patiently waiting for the scene in front of them to unfold.

“You ready, baby?” He asked into your neck, his thick lips already placing wet kisses and his hands already pulling at the elastic of your sweats. You make a scene to hold eye contact with both men on the couch before responding to the one below you, “Yes, Daddy.” When Changbin’s eyes widen before he closes them and lays his head back, you giggle to yourself and move your eyes over to Jisung. You hear him groan and class a hand over his mouth, and when he notices your eyes are staring into his wide boba ones you smile innocently and tilt your head at him.

By the time both men recover, Chris is already pulling your sweatpants and underwear from your ankles, then moving his hands to the base of your crop top. He finally breaks away from your neck to pull it off, unintentionally showing off the red marks all over your neck to the couch. As the shirt gets pulled above your head, you hear a gasp from the couch and Chris’ voice against your ear. “And no bra? Baby.. you’re gonna kill them haha..”

You bite your lip and smile before teasing, “If they let themselves die this easily then you can have me all to yourself again.” You almost miss the way Changbin’s eyes narrow with how focused you are on Jisung’s growing pout. You hear Jisung let out a “Hey..” before you laugh and stick your tongue out at both boys. Immediately after, you feel your legs get hooked over Chris’ wide stance. 

He teases you by softly rubbing his hands against your inner thighs, nipping at your neck and ear as he does so. His left hand slowly trails up your stomach until he meets your chest and starts toying with your nipples. The hand still on your thigh trails up higher and higher until you feel him spreading your folds with his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to slide against your clit and down to your hole. You slump against him when you feel him slide two fingers in you, his thumb replacing his middle finger on your clit. You faintly hear Chris say something to the other boys about where they should try to angle their fingers. When he angles his hands the way he describes, it rips a desperate moan from your throat and your legs tighten against his.

Both boys on the couch adjust themselves in their pants at the sight of you spread so widely in front of them, Han nodding enthusiastically with each sentence that comes out of Chris’ mouth. With the fast pace his fingers set, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build up.

You feel yourself getting close and Chris catches on very fast. He pulls his fingers away and lands a smack to your inner thigh before grabbing your chin and raising an eyebrow at you. “Did I say you could come yet? You didn’t even ask permission.” You almost miss Jisung’s moan at the action, but quickly respond with a, “N-No, Daddy. I’m sorry Daddy.”

He tsks at you before softly running his hands along your thighs again, “Just because I’m showing the boys how to play with you doesn’t mean that our rules aren’t in place. Don’t be a bad girl and make me punish you in front of them already.”

“Yes, Daddy” you whine out as you nod feverishly, your orgasm fading away slowly. He hums before returning his hand to your cunt, playing with your folds as he gets lost in thought for a moment. You sigh and lean your head into his neck once releases your chin.

You almost say something about the lack of stimulation when Chris suddenly pushes you on your feet, keeping a hand on the small of your back as he quickly stands. He sits you on the chair but pulls you down so your ass is hanging off the chair, legs folded into each other as he puts you on display towards the couch. You feel butterflies in your stomach, remembering just exactly what Chris made you do the last time you both were in this position.

You shiver as his fingers softly caress your folds, he looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Once he realizes that you knew what his plans were, he bites his lip and smirks down at you. When your lips open to say something, he suddenly returns the 2 fingers inside your hole to prevent words from forming. You guys hold eye contact for a moment, but once his fingers dig into your gummy spot roughly, your mouth opens in a gasp and your eyebrows raise. Your eyes threaten to close as you watch him meanly mimic your facial expression and rub against the spot harder.

Your legs already start to shake and you throw your head back against the chair with a whimper, closing your eyes when the stimulation is a little too much. A firm grip in your hair pulls your face to meet his, he places a gentle kiss to your lips before adding a third finger. He ruts them into your soppy cunt over and over again until you hear him laugh when your eyes slam shut again. You’re sure both boys can hear the wet noises coming from between your legs. You wish you could see their faces, but at this point you figure Chris is trying to put on a show for them so you don’t complain.

“F-Fuck!!! Daddyyy!! I-I can’t..” You cry out, one of your hands meets his and your nails dig into his wrist as your thighs clamp shut. He pulls his fingers out and pins both your hands against the top of the chair with his spare hand. He lands a slap on your cunt and doesn’t give you time to react before he slams three fingers back in and resumes his bullying pace.

He coos at you, pressing a kiss into your calf, “You can, baby girl…” He pauses before positioning his hand so that his palm could bully against your clit with the thrusts. His tone is much darker when he continues, “I won’t stop until you do. So you better give them a pretty view, yea?” You gush more around his fingers as and when you clench harshly, he leans down to push his lips against yours.

At this point, Han has caught on to what Chris is trying to do, and he finally can’t stand the tightness in his jeans so he removes them. He quickly pushes his boxers down and can’t stop himself from fisting his cock at the sight of your cunt and ass on display for them, your wet cunt dripping down your ass as Chris continues his pace. Changbin on the other hand, isn’t fully sure what is going on. But that doesn’t stop him from palming his bulge, biting into the pointer finger on his other hand to keep quiet.

The sounds coming from you somehow get louder and you pant into Chris’ mouth, moaning against his lips as you feel the knot snap in your stomach. Suddenly you squirt all over his arm, squealing into the kiss as Chris rides your high. He fingers into you roughly before giving you a second to squirt more, then forcing more out of you. He repeats this until you pull away from his lips and gasp desperately for air, and he finally slows his hand to almost a complete stop, letting you breathe. He softly slaps your cunt as he pulls away from you fully to admire the mess you made.

“I told you, baby girl.” He laughs, ghosting his hand over your inner thigh as he watches you glisten. He pulls away from you completely, pulling his shirt off in one go and using it to wipe your thighs down and throwing it onto the puddle you made on the floor. He pulls you back to your feet, and holds you up with both hands as your legs shake aggressively, before sitting back down and resuming the earlier position: you on his lap.

He showers your neck and your cheek in kisses as your legs stay glued shut, his thighs making sure of that as they stay against yours. One of his hands holds you against him while the other caresses your hip affectionately. He knows you’re not in this plane of existence from how quiet you are, so he tries his best to ground you with as much physical touch that he can offer.

After a short while, your soul finally returns to your body. You mumble something incoherent and he takes that as a sign that you’re still there. He giggles into your neck, trailing his kisses down to your shoulder. You feel his arms tighten around you before he’s whispering against your skin, “You alright, baby? What’s your color?”

You sigh into his hold and whisper back a “Yellow.. Just give me a minute.”

Once you deem yourself ready, you let him know. He reluctantly loosens his hold on you and clears his throat, placing a final kiss on your shoulder before looking up. “Now that she’s ready for you both.. who wants to play first?” Chris asks as he eyes dart between the boys you completely forgot about. The two in question glance at each other quickly before wordlessly deciding to keep quiet and let Chris choose. Chris nods in understanding before glancing over at the youngest and watching the way he’s slowly fisting his cock as he waits for the next move. Chris very quickly thinks back to the boundaries everybody set earlier and he smirks against your shoulder. He whispers something in your ear, just low enough so neither of the other men can hear it.

But when you smile and slide off Chris' lap, softly crawling towards Changbin on all fours, both boys on the couch suddenly fix their posture. Han almost whines at the thought of Changbin getting you first until he watches the oldest stand up and saunteer towards him. He gulps and looks up at the man, biting his lip when Chris leans down and grabs his chin to hold eye contact. “You still okay with us playing a little bit, Hannie?” Not fully trusting his voice, Jisung nods eagerly and allows Chris to take control, "Please..."

While the two boys to your right get lost in each other, you sit at Changbin’s feet and look up at him with puppy dog eyes. You even go as far as to tilt your head and rest your cheek against his knee. “Hi Binnie~” You whisper out, “Can you play with me? Pleasee?”

He curses under his breath and nods, “Y-Yeah.. Yeah we can play, Bunny.” You smile in response and bite your lip, undoing his jeans before pulling them off his legs. He pulls his shirt off as you leave soft kisses up his thighs. He shudders the closer to his crotch that you get, and breathes harshly when you place a kiss to his dick through his boxers. He sighs when you back away and pull his underwear down just enough so that his dick slaps against his tummy. You pause for a second to admire his width. He’s so hard and his tip has a mean red tint; you’re almost afraid of taking him.

Suddenly the man above you laughs and pulls you up onto his lap, letting his dick rest between you two. He quickly pulls you into a kiss, running his hands up and down your sides softly. Your own hands are running up and down his biceps and squeezing, finally relishing in the feeling of his muscles against your hands. When a hand of his slides down to your ass to squeeze, you smile into the kiss and angle your head so that you are making out even deeper. It’s very short lived however, because the hand that was squeezing your ass pulls back and lands a slap to your cheek.

You jump in against him and pull away from his lips, frowning at him. He laughs at you before landing another to your other cheek. “Those are for the little comment you made earlier about Chan getting you to himself after this.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest and snapping back, “Well soooomebody doesn’t know how to take a joke.” Changbin’s mouth opens slightly and his eyes narrow dangerously at you. If it wasn’t for the fire in your abdomen that grew from his stare, you would have been terrified and apologized right away.

You quickly think that should have been the case when a hand shoots forward and clamps around your neck, squeezing tightly right off the bat. You let out a gargled noise as his other hand lands 2 harsh slaps to your ass cheeks, massaging against them right after. “I’m sorry... What was that?”

Jisung and Chris pull a few inches away from each other at the sound. Jisung’s hips buck up into Chris’ hand and he lets out a pathetic whine at the sight of your ass cheeks already turning a darker red. The man above him lets out an exasperated laugh before saying “Oh yeah, I should’ve warned you two that she can be a stupid brat sometimes. I would say I’d teach you how to deal with it, but it seems like you got it under control already. You know what to do, baby. Be a good girl for Binnie, or else I'll handle you myself.” Changbin steals a confused glance at his hyung before returning his gaze to you, loosening his grip on your neck to give you more breathing room. He watches your eyes meet Chan's and you gulp deeply before wresting your hands on his chest.

“‘M sorry Binnie. I’ll be good now I promise.” His hand completely loosens the grip on your neck but stays resting against your throat as Chris speaks up again. “Not ‘Binnie’ baby.” Your eyes meet Chris’ again and he smiles at you teasingly, his hands still stroking Jisung at a slow pace that has the boy whining into his hand. You bite your lip at the sight of Jisung looking fucked out already and turn back to Changbin and retry, “I’m sorry sir. I’ll behave now.” You watch Changbin swallow thickly before leaning his head sideways and letting out a curse.

“Atta girl, baby.” Chris says, before turning back to the squirming boy below him.

Changbin quickly mutters an ‘Up’ before you climb out of his lap to stand in front of him. He quickly swaps spots with you, making you sit on the couch as he stands above you, kneeling against the cough to ground himself. He strokes himself a few times, not bothering to prepare you any more than Chan did already. He pulls your legs up and holds them near your chest, and then he finally sinks himself into you. He keeps his eyes on your face the whole time, mainly watching for possible comfort changes in your expression. But when your jaw drops at the stretch and you take over his hold on your legs, he can’t help himself from staring for other reasons. While you’re busy hugging your legs into yourself, he trails a hand to your mouth and positions his thumb to press down on your tongue. With every inch of his duck entering you, you swear you lose another piece of your mind. And after what feels like forever, his hips finally meet the backs of your thighs

He lets out a shaky sigh and lightly thrusts into you, testing the waters before pulling out farther and setting a calm pace. For a while, he softly thrusts into you, just savoring the feeling and sight of your tight cunt around his dick. It’s not until you let out a whine that his eyes return to your face. His hips stutter and he watches in awe as he pulls his thumb from your drooly mouth. While that thumb moves down to draw circles onto your clit, you look up at him pleadingly before begging so sweetly. “Please, Sir. Please I promised I’d be good. Just fuck me hard, please please please.”

From the other side of the couch, Chris’ ears perk up at the sound of your begging. He chuckles breathlessly and it takes everything in him to keep his eyes on the pretty boy who’s on his knees below him. “F-Fuck. Bin I usually have to overstimulate her for her to beg like that. You must’ve fucked her stupid already.”

Changbin’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sentence and he starts up a rough pace, pounding into you fast before responding, “Y-Yeah? You think so?”

You throw your head into the couch at the new rhythm, nails digging into your legs at the stimulation. After squirting like that earlier, you’re not sure you can last very long and that’s made even more true by the sloppy presses you feel on your clit. Not long after this pace was set, you feel yourself rapidly approaching your high.

You manage out a: “Binnie- S-Sir, can I cum please.. I want you to cum inside… I’ve b-been good, right?” and he groans in response, nodding his head and leaning into you, his fingers never leaving your cunt and his pace never faltering. “Yeah, baby. Don’t worry, Binnie’s got you.” His body weight on your legs gives you an uncomfortable stretch, but when his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss, you can’t find it in you to complain. Almost immediately after that, his spare hand leaves a slap to your ass, and you cum on impact. Your lips detach from his as you let out desperate wails, trying to take deep breaths while he slows his pace to make slower but deeper thrusts into you. His gaze meets your teary eyes before he dips to your neck, biting and sucking marks onto the skin. He follows suit not long after, groaning and biting harder subconsciously as he rides out his high.

You lay against each other, catching your breaths before you let out a pained whine. “Binnieee… my legs..” His mind is still foggy from that strong of an orgasm, so it takes him a second to pull away. Once he does, he softly rests your legs against the couch and massages the muscles, already knowing which ones would be hurting. He watches your mixtures of cum ooze out of your cunt, and onto the couch. He would normally freak out at such a viscous substance getting the couch dirty, but his zips his mouth shut and watches in awe for a moment. You don’t fully notice when he walks away due to getting distracted by the other end of the couch.

Chris let out a few gasps that turn to groans, signaling that he’s dangerously close. You quickly turn your head to watch as Jisung deep throats him all the way, even gagging a few times. You whine out something along the lines of, “That’s so hot..” but it meets none of their ears as Jisung’s nails rake down Chris’ thighs, his hips buckling as he cums hard. He throws his head back and holds a firm grip on Jisung’s permed hair as he thrusts softly into his mouth, quickly angling his head back towards the boy to watch him swallow around his length. Slowly the grip on the younger’s hair loosens, and you and Chris watch the boy on the floor with lidded eyes. Jisung hollows his cheeks and slowly pulls off the eldest’s dick, he matches the older’s gaze and shows off the contents on his tongue before making a show of swallowing it, showing his empty tongue after. Chris throws a hand over his eyes and whines, resting his head against the back cushion as you sit there and laugh. You and Jisung meet each other’s eyes before you wink at the boy, blowing him a kiss with a fucked out smile on your face.

By now Changbin is returning to the living room with a warm cloth, wiping you down gently before throwing it onto the pile of your clothes. Chris disappears to his room to grab shirts of his for you and Jisung while Changbin throws the scattered clothes of yours into his own hamper, and Jisung’s into his hamper. While the two eldest members run around cleaning, and preparing blankets and snacks for a cuddle session, you and Jisung embrace each other on the couch. You rest your head against his shoulder as your breaths even out. You could fall asleep at this point, but you’re quickly distracted by the boy’s bulge in his underwear.

“Hannie… you’re still hard?” You laugh. His cheeks and ears turn red before he laughs too. “Yeah… I came in the beginning, but watching you and Changbin-hyung while watching Channie-hyung come undone got me hard again. It was all just too hot..” You laugh into his shoulder but trail one of your hands to the bulge, trailing a featherlight touch that has the boy’s thighs clamping together. “Can I help you then, Hannie? Me and you didn’t get to play. I can’t go another round but I’ll happily suck you off.”

You hear a shaky breath as his hips buck against your hand. “Fuck,, Yes please, baby.” Giggling, you drop down to your knees for a 2nd time tonight, pulling his boxers down just enough to free his cock. You take it in your hands and pump it, placing teasing kisses up and down his shaft. You smirk against him when you feel his hand slip into your hair, grabbing a tight but not painful grip as a warning to stop teasing. You hum and lick a long stripe until you reach his tip, placing a final kiss there before you take him all the way to the hilt. The grip in your hair tightens as you hum and hold your spot against his pubic bone, some of the hair there tickling your nose. You hollow your cheeks and swallow around him a few times before pulling away, stroking him while you rasp out, “You wanna fuck my mouth baby?"

You swear his eyes sparkle as he nods enthusiastically. His hands quickly move to rest against the back of your head, “Hit my thigh a few times if you need a break, ok?” You nod and smile up at him, happy that he still genuinely cares about your well being. Your smile fades as he moves your head against him, slowly fucking your mouth against his dick as he lets out a sigh. You hollow out your cheeks and feel the grip on your head get harder. He starts fucking himself into your throat, using all his will power to not do it as rough as he wanted to, ‘We can save that for another day’ he argues to himself. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his high, his thighs shaking as memories of what happened less than 10 minutes ago resurface to his mind.

He goes to pull you away as he cums, but you swat his hands away and take matters into your own hands, literally. One of your hands trails up his stomach, your nails ghosting around his chest as your other hand reaches up to fondle his balls. It’s all so sudden and he chokes on his own drool when he tries to warn you that he’s cumming, but regardless you swallow every last drop. Once his hips relax back into the couch, you pull back so that only the tip is in your mouth, sucking hard to get every last drop and he lets out the whiniest cry you’ve ever heard.

As the older boys return with blankets and snacks, you and Jisung pull away from each other. Eventually everybody is settled and a movie is chosen, the four of you cuddle up to each other and relax. Han is laying with his head against your chest when he suddenly lets out a laugh that startles your sleepy form. The three of you look down at him with different confused expressions before he chuckles to himself again.

“The others are missing out sooo bad.”

[wroteclassicaly]

Summary: During your shift you overhear a conversation that kind of sends you spiraling.

Warnings: Language, angst, self-esteem issues, hurt with MAJOR comfort, and protective Steve.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Wordcount: 1,924

A/N: Just a little something, cause’ I’m on my period and feeling it…

You aren’t acting like your usual self - zero pep in your step, no smiles from anything or for anyone. Steve doesn’t expect that from you all of the time, but he can sense something is majorly wrong. You simply give him a whispered hey as you climb into the beemer’s passenger, buckling your seatbelt and lowering your gaze to the small wallet you’d brought with you today. It’s when he leans across the console, leather creaking under his movements, to kiss you - that he is for surely locked in on something being up with you. You’re pulling yourself away from his lips before they can even touch your cheek.

At the start of your relationship, Steve was always doing checklists, to see if you were unnerved about, even the smallest of things (which never had anything to do with him, half the time, as he found out). He tried to go over what he could’ve done wrong, how he needed to fix that. But as the trust with the new stage of your relationship grew, the romance had cemented itself - Steve felt like he had to do this less and less with you. You were a team - secure and honest.

You, however, are caught into the expanse of your head, strangled by those vines that are always undoing themselves from their silence to torment you. Copious, self-negative, berating thoughts that are meant to tear you apart. You manage to see Steve frown in your peripheral, which makes your lips part in an attempt to start your explanation. He’s more than ready to receive.

“Hey, Harrington. You have a few minutes?”

That same sugary, sickly sweet voice from minutes prior. You and your boyfriend both look in time to see her blond hair lean into the window, arms propped, pink lined lips speaking, bangles accentuated on her thin wrists, and the overpowering scent of her fruity perfume. Your chest burns with the nerve of her, throat watering with unshed tears — your body feeling as if it’s slipped a flight of stairs for everyone to witness, see your smoldering humiliation as it crackles across your chest. Old Steve might be cocky, might even be rude. But your best-friend turned boyfriend - he is no longer that way.

“What’s up? Everything okay?” He’s a little hesitant, his focus coming back onto you. His knee juts from his foot bouncing on the floor, eager to leave her over bearing interjection into your conversation. He’s pissed at her and her friend standing idly nearby, as you begin to shut down what you were about to open up to him about.

Her friend giggles from beside her and you audibly swallow, using your pinky to play with the newest charm Steve had added to your bracelet (a little baseball glove, because you’re always ‘catching his heart’). It’s your tell-tale nervous sign, he’s aware. The girl in the window starts talking again before he can say anything. She shows off neon pink talons for nails, pearly whites grinning at Steve. “I just got these done about a half an hour ago. And something is wrong with my car, so I obviously need to pop the hood, but I don’t want to ruin them. Like, you know what I mean?”

The eye roll that leaves you, all emotions aside, Steve is amused by. He reaches for your hand, and you let him squeeze. “Do you mind, baby? I’ll just pop the hood and they can call someone if it needs something else done.”

This makes you feel a little better, the girl having to hide her displeasure underneath her smile, which turns into a smirk as Steve exits the car and follows them to her convertible. She makes a show in her tight tube top and jean shorts, not getting to the hood immediately. You only imagine what they’re saying to Steve. But you do remember what they’ve just said about you.

“I mean, he picks her up daily and I don’t even think she offers him gas money.”

You’d stopped organizing the front candy counter to lean around and listen in. Steve picks you up everyday, never asking for anything return - even if you always offer. They have to mean you, right? Your breath had started quickening, focus wavering. The rush of burgundy is within your sights as he pulls up storefront, shades on, head tilted back, arm out the window with a cigarette in hand.

“He’s dating her though, so why would she?”

“Please. He needs to be asked if he is. I don’t buy it, at all. I mean, Nancy Wheeler was a goody two shoes, but at least she was pretty. Buckley is a fucking motor mouth, but she’s also okay.”

Former insecurities when you got together. Even as a friend as you crushed on him, these thoughts had plagued you. You were heated, body light.

“He never dated Buckley.”

A deep sigh. “Obviously, but he clung to her like a puppy. He’s downgraded with this one. She’s been hanging on him for years and I don’t know if he warrants it or just tolerates it.”

Don’t make any noise, don’t say a word. You should stop listening, say something. All things that you didn’t do, just kept listening to them dump on you.

“She’s the real reason Harrington struck out all the time. WHO the fuck wants to date someone that allows a loser like that to be attached to their hip non-stop? I mean, is it a kind, charitable thing to do? Sure. But he needs to draw a line between the good and the bad, babe.”

Your dress had felt to tight on your body - one you wore to surprise Steve today. Excited to be with him for the weekend, casting aside conflicting schedules. Your face became dull, heartbeat slowing, eyes glossing over. You swore you could taste the acidic bile of breakfast on your tongue.

“She’s been that ugly two for one special, kills all of his chances by hanging around him. The real reason he struck out so much.”

You turn your back to the conversation, despite still having been able to hear it. No use in trying to block it out, for it had found you in surround sound.

“Didn’t he ask you on a date, Chelsea? And you turned him down?”

She scoffed. “My point exactly. She makes him less appealing. He’s just with her because he thinks that he should be, and because she’s the one that’s around him too much. He peaked in high school, but she’s certainly holding that fine ass of his back. Can you imagine the sex he’s wasting on that?”

You’re so caught up in your momentary memories, that you don’t even see Steve as he piles back into the car, his entire body lax, but his shoulders tense. His face holds a reserved softness for you. His voice, though, that takes on an entirely different undertone of mixed meanings - somewhere between a raging anger and a featherlight craving to provide solace. He’s saying something that takes you a few seconds to catch up with, your blurred vision noticeable. It confirms his suspicions that he’d accumulated by being hit on at the girl’s car.

“They came from your store, didn’t they? What did they say to you?” He sighs, trying to let that show, so that you don’t mistake it for annoyance.

“It’s… nothing. I’m okay.“

“Baby…” The way it’s practically pled, it makes you look at him. You meet concerned, slightly widened, mossy eyes, sun reflected in the enriching pools. His grown out caramel hair is a mess, shades pushed back to sit atop, his sun kissed skin visible through his white Kenny G shirt, along with overgrown chest hair, his chain length bracelet and neck chain (a gift from you for his latest birthday), and his ripped jeans he’d cut to make capri shorts.

He definitely shouldn’t be yours.

You reach to fiddle with the chain, that nervous habit back again. And Steve settles into your touch as it drums across his jugular. He tilts his head to kiss to the side of your fingers when they brush by. You pause to retreat, but he’s swift to take your hand in his, playing with your bracelet this time. How massive he looks in comparison.

You feel a calloused finger brush beneath your chin, bringing it up. His eyes are darting back and forth across your face. “Tell me what they said to you. I know that’s why you’re upset.”

“Were they talking about me?” Immediate humiliation settles in.

He’s quick to correct. “No, no. I just mean that when they started in with the flirting after I opened the hood, I was uncomfortable and I know you were. And I also remember that they did come from the video store, too.”

Your voice breaks and he slides his spare hand to your neck’s nape, bringing your forehead to his as you begin to tell him everything that was said. Safe to say, he’s NOT happy by the time that you’re finished, and he does a double take to look for their car. It’s already gone and he curses. “Shit. That’s fucking bullshit!”

He can’t fathom the process that he went through as you told him each and every single word heard. His tongue is tied, he wants to plead with you to know that it’s not true, that all of those things have NEVER been like that. There’s only one truth. And so, he tries with all his heart to explain it to you.

“God, honey, you have to know that when I’m with you, I don’t see anything else, can’t see anyone else. For years, it’s always just been you. I don’t care about who I was before. The man I am now, he wants his life to be with yours. He’s pretty gone on you, like in a stupid, I’ll almost die for you again, even when you tell me not to - kind of way, and probably more.”

Your heart rate has started speeding up again, caught beneath your breastbone, trying to find your throat, but can’t get through its tightness. You’re openly crying now, to which Steve solves by thumbing away, the bridge of his nose nudging yours, mouth laying his next statement in to cross. “Words, they’re not my strong point, you know that. But I want you to know that I’d learn a fucking dictionary in every single language if it meant I could tell you in better terms, how much you mean to me, how perfect you are, how beautiful, funny, and smart, how sexy, how tough, how loyal, how honest, how creative, how strong, and so much fuckin’ more... How what they said was the farthest thing from the truth, that they’re just jealous, airheaded bimbos.”

You let your palms find his face, the ache in your body causing a prickling in your toes. You’re pliant against his chest as he unbuckles your belt and his, pinching your waist and using his forearm to halfway hoist you middle way over the console to meet his mouth, all the while he’s whispering between every kiss, “I love you. I love you. So fucking much. I love you, honey.”

You don’t have to stop kissing to tell him that you love him back. Steve can feel it in the way that you hold onto him, tears changing, rolling from your cheeks and dripping onto his lips. I love you.

[dreaisgrayte]

Camp Maple | Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, kissing, friends to grudge to friends to sassy to lovers? childhood trauma, masturbation (fem and male), tad bit of angst, unprotected sex, cream pie, more to come? Honestly the ending could do with a rewrite but I'm too lazy for that right now.

word count: 17.5k

a/n: writers block sucks so I'm sorry if the end is trash. I wanted to get this out before school started up again. Unedited.

It’s fucking summer again. That meant working for your mother’s sleepaway camp. Maple Woods was a fun enough place to work when your mother wasn’t visiting, but if you had to work with that asshole again you highly doubt this would be the best summer ever that your mother promised you. At least last year he wasn’t scheduled to be a leader with you.

The main office is where you would grab your schedule and overall camp theme for this summer. It’s also where you could check what group you were head of. Luckily, the office building was right off the parking lot. The mess hall was a few yards down a worn rock pathway from the old brick building you were heading into. 

The yellow screen door swings open with a screech, and you’re met with the steady whir of box fans pointed at the one lady you enjoyed seeing every year. Her straight blonde hair flutters in the heavy breeze as she looks up from her monitor. Once her caramel brown eyes settle on you, a sugary sweet smile overtakes her features. “YN!” She exclaims, standing from behind the counter. “I’m so glad you decided to come back, sweetie.” She extends her arms, walking out toward you. This is your aunt, Yena. She practically helped raise you when your mother would drop you off. Your childhood home was a 10 minute drive away, and where you lived now was around 15 minutes, depending on how long you procrastinated in traffic in an attempt to prolong accidentally running into your mother. Yena made sure your group of friends had snacks and unlimited access to her office. She was there when you had your first period. In other words, Yena was like a mother to you, at least more than your actual biological one. 

You embrace each other, and the overwhelming smell of cinnamon hits your nose like a tidal wave. It was like home in a hug. “Like I had a choice.” You mumble but laugh with her after a beat. This felt nice, but you needed to settle in before the rest of the counselors flooded in and started the pre-camp party. “Ah, do you happen to know which cabin group I’ll be in charge of?” You inquire, holding her back from you. 

Her brows crease with thought, and then she looks excited, holding up a finger to tap your nose. “Ah my little honeysuckle, you are co-leading the caterpillars.” She hums in delight. You tilt your head. Co-leading? 

“Co-leading? With whom?” Your chest feels heavy. Last year, your co-leader was a slacker, leaving you with all the work and little time for yourself. Your group of kids were absolute sweethearts, so you didn’t mind too much. Still, the experience had put a bad taste in your mouth. Yena’s back to concentrating on your question, but this time, she shakes her head with a slight frown. 

“I’m sorry dear, I don’t remember. Though, I do remember thinking that you two are sure to make a good pair!” She clasps your hands excitedly at the latter part of her sentence. You force yourself to smile through the anxiety. 

“Heh, yeah.” In translation, you were screaming internally. “I’ll go figure it out.” The only thing you could do was head to your cabin and hope to bump into your co-lead. Maple Woods usually had 2 young adults co-lead a group of kids to keep things safe. The co-leads shared the head cabin, no matter what. It was the first cabin in a ring of 4 other ones. The campers were divided by age – that’s where the different sections came from – then put into co-ed cabins. One cabin could fit about 8 comfortably, depending on how many kids signed up. The caterpillars are the 2nd and 3rd grader sections. The co-leader cabin was bigger, but that’s only because of the shared bathroom and small kitchen area. 

The air smells fresh, and you get lost in memories for a moment. There was the main hall where the welcoming ceremony would be held, and a cement path through a small patch of trees off to the side led to the different sections of cabins. On the other side of the path, surrounded by a small patch of trees, was the mess hall where meals and activities would be held. The older kids had cabins further into the woods while your section of cabins was situated right by the lake. Down the middle, past the mess hall and cabins, was the maple woods lake. The sunlight is glittering off the ripples already. Peace. That’s what the lake reminded you of. Up a trail on the north side, there was even a secluded waterfall, but the kids didn’t get to know about that part. 

You walk down the cracked cement walkway, puttering around with a rock as you go. The green doors are easy enough to spot against the orangey light wood of the cabins. You were lucky. You got the cabins right by the lakefront. You hike up the stairs, noting a suitcase outside the left door. Okay, so someone was here. That was a good sign. Walking through the right door it hits you that you didn’t grab any of your bags from the car. You stop in the middle of the room, groaning loudly. “Shit.” You curse, turning on your heel. It takes about 10 minutes for you to clamber back into the room this time with your bags haphazardly strapped across your body. They slip off your body with no regard for your hair or your skin. 

The room is simple, a bed in the corner, a closet, a desk, and a nightstand with a cute lamp on it. To the left are two doors, one leads to the kitchenette area – the other leads to the Jack and Jill bathroom, in which you can hear rushing water. Your co-leader must be taking a preemptive shower. You give an approving nod, wishing you could take a shower yourself. Instead, you decide to wander through the far door and into the kitchenette area. There’s a round table with a chair on either side of it pushed under a window. A small amount of counter space – treated pine countertops – decked out with a stove, sink, and a few cabinets. A fridge acted as the counter stopper, which was right next to your room – hmm, useful. Across from the kitchen area was a single sofa with a TV mounted on the wall. You always loved the counselors’ cabins because they were full of useful amenities. 

You pull out a chair, sitting down at the table to peer out the window at Lake Maple. You hear a door open and turn your attention toward the sound with a cheerful smile. You had the full intention of greeting your co-leader. Instead, you’re met with the bare chest of a silver-haired and lilac-eyed asshole. A simple cotton towel is wrapped around his waist, water droplets still lazily pathing their way down his sinewy chest and past the line of the before-mentioned towel. Your brows knit together, and he does the same. “Sanemi,” you grumble, forcing a smile upon your lips. “Please tell me you’re a figment of my imagination.” This cannot be happening. Sanemi Shinazugawa can not be your co-leader. 

When you met him for the first time both of you had bonded over having a shit parent. His father was abusive, scarring his son emotionally and physically. Despite the jagged pink scar that travels over the bridge of his nose and three crossing over each other on his forehead, Sanemi was excessively attractive. He wore his scars as a badge of what he’d overcome, but you knew there was underlying disgust that was hidden away.

He rolls his eyes, frustratedly peering to the corner of the room. “Believe me darlin’ I’m just as annoyed by this as you are.” Heat floods your cheeks at his casual way of speaking. You cross your arms over your chest, standing up from your chair with dramatic grandeur. 

His eyes follow your actions, concentrating on the way you nearly stumble to the side. He quirks a smile and this only fuels your annoyance, which was amusing in its own right. “There has to be a way we can switch out,” You throw your hands up, exasperated. Sanemi shakes his head, placing his hands on his hips. 

He then jerks his head toward the general direction of the main office. “Already checked with Yena, they don’t trust anyone else but you’n me to run the caterpillar crew.” He explains, disdain practically dripping from his voice. You groan toward the ceiling. 

Of course, your mother would pull some shit like this. Making you work with the one person that could make you falter at your job. Was this a test? It was sure as hell annoying especially with Sanemi standing half-naked in front of you. “For fuck’s sake can you please go put on a shirt or something?” You pinch the bridge of your nose squeezing your eyes shut. 

Your words only earn a dark chuckle from the man across from you. “Why? I thought I could wear this to the bonfire.” He shoots back smugly. 

A long sigh blows past your lips as you decide not to honor him with a response. Instead, you head back into your room and slam the door. You fuss around with your hair, unpacking while you search for an outfit. Sanemi was so aggravating. With that smug look on his face and- you throw your hands down in frustration, frowning into the handheld mirror you propped against the wall. Sun earrings dangle from your ears, a simple gold chain around your throat, and mascara lifts your lashes. You put on high-waisted jean shorts and a pink bleach-washed tye-dye tank. Tennis shoes and white socks wrap it together. 

Your heart hammers an overwhelming rhythm as you blow out a breath. Sanemi Shinazugawa was sleeping in the same cabin as you, sharing food, time, and a bathroom. You had to get over this stupid grudge against him. It wasn’t healthy to latch onto something so silly for such a long time, but back then it hurt like hell. For the children, you had to put your past behind you. Maybe if you got drunk enough tonight you could talk to him about it, but those odds were very unlikely.  

There were a few people you wanted to chat with at the bonfire, have a few drinks, and then you’d be nicely tucked into bed ready for campers to start arriving tomorrow. Simple as that. A grin makes its way onto your face as you slip out of your cabin, but it quickly drops when you notice Sanemi leaning against the deck railing. You try not to sigh too loud, but he must hear it because he quirks a brow in your direction. “Why are you creepily waiting outside my door?” You inquire, gesturing to him. He huffs out a breath, stepping out of his leaning position. 

He’s wearing a black hoodie with shorts. You’re mildly upset by how good he looks in darker clothes. It contrasts his hair in such a way that captivates you. You shake those thoughts out of your head as he trots down the stairs, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I can’t very well leave you to walk to the spot by yourself.” He nods in the direction of the dark path that winds through the woods and up the rocky ledges. 

You raise your brows, joining him on the ground. “You think I can’t handle a little spooky path on my own?” You scoff. Sanemi rolls his eyes and the action pricks your skin. 

He starts walking toward the path’s entrance and when you don’t follow he gives you a pointed look. “Shall I remind you of when we were seven?” 

“Sanemi hold my hand! I’m scared!” You whine, grasping his hands when he doesn’t make a move. “Promise me you won’t leave my side!” 

You whinge, shuddering at the memory, but jog to catch up with him anyway. He turns his head to watch the path become progressively darker, a few lamps hung on trees here and there. A grin finds its way onto his lips at the way you walk closer to him every time you hear a noise. “For a girl who grew up out here, you sure are jumpy. If you get too scared you can always hold my hand again.” He blurts, not meaning to tease you, but when your reaction is flushed cheeks and a high-pitched squeak, he can’t help himself. 

Eventually, the flickering light of a campfire and the sound of laughter distracts you from the man walking next to you. You rush ahead, excitedly finding your way to Shinobu and Mitsuri, two of your closest friends. The only people invited to this bonfire were the kids who grew up coming to this camp and eventually became counselors or otherwise affiliated. 

Gyomei Himejima; the stern, yet emotional one that usually dealt with the older kids. He claims the young ones are too selfish and he’s unable to keep them in check. He’s the oldest one here but still has such a soft spirit despite not having any family to go home to. Gyomei honestly loves the summer gig, but always chats about his pet cat that he can’t wait to get back to. You guess that was his family to get back to. 

Tengen Uzui; Mister Casanova with the other counselors, but he’s rumored to be otherwise attached. Which was fine by you, Tengen was all talk, no action. Besides you didn’t want any action from him – his fan club would hunt you down and no matter how many defense classes you took, you would not be able to stop them.

Giyu Tomioka; the quiet one. He was great at his job but not the best at talking with the other counselors. He usually sat and listened to all of you talk on, interjecting a few times with his opinion. He was a genuine and good guy, you enjoyed talking to him one-on-one.

Kyojuro Rengoku; no one else could handle the little rascals than him. He worked with the younger children since he was as kind-hearted as they come. It takes a special type of person to do his job and no one could do it better than him, except maybe Mitsuri.

Mitsuri Kanroji; also works with the nursery and younger kids. She was a nurturer at heart, caring for the young ones was her specialty. You kept in contact with her and Shinobu the most outside of camp. 

Shinobu Kocho; was the head of the infirmary, in case a child got a pretty bad scrape or needed medication. She may appear stern, but she was actually a big softy when it came to caring for the injured.

Obanai Iguro; head of the kitchen and helps lead exploration hikes. Obanai didn’t talk much either, he had that mysterious bad-boy thing going for him – which unfortunately Mitsuri fawns over. He was also Sanemi’s best friend. 

The bonfire was an annual party held the day before camp starts. There was a rocky clearing at the top of the waterfall that fed into the lake. This spot had a perfect view of Camp Maple, overlooking the soft glowing lights and some people rushing around for last-minute chores. Memories intertwined themselves with the breeze rushing through the trees surrounding the group. It was like a second home up here or maybe more of an escape. Either way, the light feeling growing in your chest was a welcomed change from knowing you’d have to work with Sanemi. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world to happen to you. It still felt like a firecracker ready to explode in your face at any moment. There was bound to be trouble with this arrangement.

You glance at him, his eyes reflecting the warm glow of the fire. He’s grinning as he chats with Obanai, bringing a can of beer to his lips. You watch as his throat bobs, a dribble of liquid pooling at the corner of his mouth and eventually trickling down his neck. Before you can look away his eyes catch yours, a smirk lifting his lips as he pulls the can away. He raises his brows and your back straightens, your gaze quickly darting away. 

“Hey YN, have another drink.” Shinobu nudges you, passing you a bottle of liquor. You grin as you take it from her. 

The cool glass feels great against your mouth as you take a swig. The liquor burns a little as it slides down your throat, but it has a nice fruity taste to it. “Thanks,” You raise your glass to clink against hers. 

Mitsuri is on your other side, nervously wondering if she should talk to Obanai. “YN, would it be…weird for me to interject in their conversation?” She whispers in your ear, motioning discreetly to Obanai and Sanemi. You let out a soft sigh before chugging the rest of your drink. Your body fizzes with the warm gooey feeling of alochol. Mitsuri watches you with wide eyes, they sparkle in amazement. “Woah, that was really cool!” She exclaims. You huff out a laugh, extending your hand for Shinobu to hand you another. She does as you request and you pop open the cap with your teeth, letting the contents of the bottle slip into your mouth. Mitsuri claps excitedly, gaining the attention of the guys next to her. 

Sanemi stares at you, his brows knitting together slowly as he watches you swig one more bottle. You stand, swaying slightly as you turn to Sanemi. His gaze is trained on you, standing up as you stumble toward him. You crash into his arms, a dumb grin lining your lips. The group now looks on at the spectacle. “Nemi~” You coo, swinging your arms over his neck. Sanemi’s throat bobs, wrapping his muscular arm around your back to stabilize you. 

He laughs nervously, smiling with gritted teeth toward the rest of the group. “I’m going to take her back down,” He begins, pressing you tighter into his grip. You’re frustrated with how good his body feels against yours and when your shirt rides up a bit his skin feels like fire. Everyone seems in agreement, but you twist in his arms to shoot Mitsuri a thumbs up and a wink. Her face erupts in a red flurry and your goofy smile turns back to meet Sanemi’s gaze. 

You giggle at his stern expression. “Boop!” You squeak, tapping the tip of his nose with your finger. His brows raise slowly as he takes in your slumping condition. 

Sanemi turns around, squatting down on his haunches. “Get on.” He motions with his head for you to climb onto his back. You hum excitedly, slinging your arms over his neck. Your legs wobble as you try to position yourself over his back. He sighs, reaching behind him to swipe your calves out from under you. You squeal as he repositions you, sliding his warm big hands under your thighs. “Hold on tight darlin’.” He instructs and you listen well by pressing into his back, nuzzling your chin onto his shoulder. “Well, have a good night everyone.” He tries his best to wave, the group saying their goodbyes. 

The view from his back is enjoyable as he hikes down the trail. “You’re so strong,” You mumble, spanning your hands down his chest absentmindedly. Sanemi pauses, his muscles constricting as you touch him. 

He shoots a look over his shoulder as you grope him. “Yeah, I work out, now please stop harassing me.” He jumps you further up his back to keep you from slipping off. You giggle at the jostling motion. 

Despite his earlier complaint, he lets your hands roam over what parts of his body you can reach. There's a comfortable silence that falls over you both but as you peer into the woods a memory you’d rather not think about seeps into your mind. “Sanemi,” You start, trying to swallow the way your heart is beating – hopefully, he couldn’t feel it against his back. “I’m sorry I was so angry at you.” The apology comes out of nowhere, but Sanemi knows what you’re talking about. 

He stops in his tracks, shutting his eyes for a beat. “Don’t apologize for what you have every right to feel.” He takes in a deep breath, you can feel his body rise with the motion. “I didn’t think your mother would do that, I-” His voice cracks and he clears his throat before continuing. “I was just worried about you. I was too scared to find you so I went to your mother.” 

Your brows scrunch and you feel your chest tighten at his words. You tap his back. “I want down.” He silently helps you slide down his back. He still holds onto you, making sure you can stand on your own. You glare into his soft expression, bottom lip trembling. “You should’ve found me,” Your nose stings with the pressure of tears welling in your eyes. He watches you with a solemn frown. “You should’ve come to me!” Your voice raises, a tear falling down your cheek. You hit his chest, letting out a choked sob. “You knew Sanemi, you knew she’d be angry.” Your fist drops from his chest, coming up to cover your soaked face. “I hoped beyond everything that you would appear over the hill, not her.” You throw your hands down, shaking your head. He just stands there, letting you drunkenly yell and cry like an idiot in front of him. Letting you hit him, throw your words at him, and relive a past you’d rather forget. 

He takes a step forward, yearning to reach out for you. “YN…” His voice is soft and comforting – you hate the fact you want to fall into his arms again. Have him carry you to safety like he should’ve done all those years ago. 

You step away from him, raising your hands in front of your face. “No, no, I need time.” Your voice trembles and as you leave Sanemi standing there in the dark you cry all the way back to your bed.

❦❦❦❦❦

“Welcome to Camp Maple Woods!” Your mother clasps her hands together excitedly. You groan from your position against the back wall with the rest of the counselors. She continues with the opening speech, her grating voice making your hangover that much worse. Mitsuri bumps shoulders with you, an all too happy smile on her face. 

You wish for just a second that you could have her resilience, but being perfect sounds like too much work. “Hey!” She whispers loudly to you. You peer around you, acting like she was talking to someone else. Mitsuri isn’t pleased with your antics because she crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a pointed look. You immediately halt and motion for her to continue. “Obanai and I texted all night.” Her stern expression lifts into a grin as her cheeks light up with a rosy color. 

You’re about to celebrate with her when Sanemi walks through the back doors. The happiness you share with Mitsuri washes away. You swallow hard, eyeing him as he leans against the wall next to Obanai. Unfortunately for you, Mitsuri is very observant. She glances between you and Sanemi, narrowing her eyes. “Now campers are you ready to go on your tours!?” Your attention is drawn to the front where your mother claps her hands together. For a brief moment, she meets your gaze and your blood boils. “May all our wonderful counselors head up to the stage!? We’ll be getting into our sections now!”

You put on your best smile, following Mitsuri to the stairs. Sanemi jogs up behind you and the resolve you’d built up this morning before heading to the main hall nearly crumbles to the ground. You had done your best to wake up early, hate your life as little as possible, shower, get ready, and escape the cabin before bumping into him. His presence behind you is an annoying warmth you want to swat away. Mitsuri joins Kyojuro and you awkwardly stand next to Sanemi with a strained smile. 

His shoulder brushes against yours and your breath hitches quietly. Your mother appears in front of you both, a blank expression on her features as she holds out a caterpillar sign to you. Your throat tightens, but Sanemi swipes it from her before she can shove it in your hands. You glance at him, brows knit together. The last thing you hear from your mother is a click of her tongue as she moves down the line. “Thank you.” You whisper, heart thumping in your chest. Was he trying to make up for what you talked about last night? 

He glances down at you, his smile shifting to something different. “Come find us caterpillars!” He yells and you gawk at him. He shoots you a wink and your lips part in awe. Did he just wink at you? That was so… weird. You shake your head and flail your hands in the air. 

Children start surrounding you, awkwardly shuffling to make room for others. Sanemi hands you a slip of paper with a list of names on it. Attendance doesn’t take long since everyone seems to have gathered around you. “Alright crew, let’s head out on that tour!” You exclaim, pointing your hand toward the double doors in the back. “Squirm to it you little caterpillars!” You shoo them down the stage, giggles erupting from a few of them as you jump off the edge. 

Sanemi follows the rest of them down the stairs, still holding the sign in the air. You giggle at how seriously he’s taking the task. “Mister Sanemi?” A small girl tugs on his shorts once everyone is outside. He peeks down at her with an award-winning smile. “Why is she not miss Sanemi?” She points to you and your eyes go wide as you tense. What kind of question is that!? Was there some code of conduct that camp leaders had to married to each other? Was two names that hard to remember?

Sanemi squats down and suddenly you get a flashback of him doing the same thing last night for you. You swallow, watching as he jerks his head in your direction. “Miss YN isn’t my wife, so she doesn’t share my name.” He explains. You drag a hand down your face. You didn’t expect this type of question to be asked so soon or at all. 

The little girl frowns and another kid points at Sanemi. “B-but I saw you wink at her!” The boy yells accusingly. Shit.

Sanemi glances at you with a ‘I fucked up’ look. He turns back to the group of children swarming him. He laughs easily. “I had something in my eye…” He deadpans. All of them suspiciously glare at him. 

You step into the circle, patting the top of Sanemi’s head. “It’s our secret leader code,” You begin, nudging him with your hip. “Whenever we have info on the big bad boss we wink at each other.” You wink at the children and their little faces light up. “Now you’re all in on our secret mission. Ready caterpillars!?” You stomp your feet and salute them with seriousness. They gasp and follow suit.

“Yes miss YN!” Sanemi shoots up from his squatted position, saluting you with a stupidly handsome grin. You stutter for a moment, before going back to at ease. “Now, what do you say we drop all these heavy bags off at the cabins and start exploring?” Sanemi suggests, pointing to the small path that led to the caterpillar cabins. As he excitedly starts leading them off into the distance you make sure to gather the stragglers. A smile of your own tugs on the corners of your mouth. Maybe you did make a pretty good team. 

Sanemi takes a seat on the stairs of your cabin, observing the kids form cabins of their own. You plop down one stair down from him, an amused grin forming on his lips. “What are you grinning about?” You quiz, glancing at him. 

He shrugs, shifting himself onto the same step as you and leaning back against the other steps. You can’t help the way your heart seems to pick up river dancing, beating fully. “Just figurin’ since we’re agents together we should be close.” You glare over your shoulder, met with his lazy smirk in your direction. A huff compresses out of your mouth as you roll your eyes. “What? I like the way you act when I get close to you.” He laughs, eyeing your reaction – which was exactly what he wanted. 

From his vantage point, Sanemi can just about manage to see your cheeks flush before you turn away from him, hiding away in your arm. “Like I’m being infected?” You shoot back, quickly standing up and – definitely pretending – to stretch. 

Sanemi’s eyes slowly rake up the exposed skin of your back, his tongue swirling around in his mouth as if trying to imagine how you would taste. “Mmm, somethin’ like that.” He hums, grinning widely when you narrow your eyes at him. 

The group of children start lining up in the grass, playing with each other while waiting for the rest of them. Some of them you recognize from last year, it’s crazy how fast kids can grow and change. Once you recognize all of their faces you and Sanemi start the tour. 

There are specific things that a sleepaway camp needs to have. Such as the obvious answer, cabins. The next obvious thing on the list is a beautiful lake. “Lake Maple was discovered way back when and this camp was built around it to preserve the landscape. There are canoes, swim gear, and a nice dock to carefully jump from. Make sure if you go to the lake that you have either Mister Sanemi or myself with you for safety.” Sanemi watches you recite the information you were supposed to give out, but you seem genuinely excited talking about the camp’s history. It was endearing… and the way your eyes gleam reminds him of when you were little, climbing trees and always reaching your hand out to him. You never left him behind. He sighs, turning away from your speech. 

The next thing a camp needs is huge buildings where lots of kids can gather. “This is the mess hall, where we’ll have breakfast, lunch, and dinner! It’ll also be where some indoor activities are held. If we don’t gather here, we’ll meet up by the picnic benches back at Caterpillar Circle. Over there is the infirmary where Miss Shinobu will gladly help you out. The main office is the building you should’ve passed when you were dropped off, that’s where Mrs Yena will be with, sadly, the only phone that has any service.” You point out, then turn toward the woods on the other side of the main camp area. You gesture widely to the expanse, taking in a deep breath. “And this, my little squiggles,” the children giggle, “Is Maple Woods, where we will hike trails, explore the wonders of nature, and fight off the evil boss.” Without thinking you wink at Sanemi. You can tell by the way his eyes bulge that he wasn’t expecting it, but as the little heads slowly turn to watch his reaction he quickly winks back at you. You catch yourself sighing in relief that you wouldn’t have to lay in bed staring at the ceiling for too long tonight because of that. 

A little girl you recognize from previous years – Himari you think – raises her hand. You nod to her in recognition. “Are we going to have the first-day campfire?” She jumps up and down, the girls around her getting excited as well. You glance down at your watch, then up to the sky, then do the girls. 

It was already late in the afternoon, the kids would have dinner and then gather back at Caterpillar Circle for an evening get-to-know-each-other campfire session. You grin, kids always enjoy the fire for some concerning reason. “Way to steal my job Himari!” You laugh and she giggles along with you. “Okay everyone, you heard Himari, head back to your cabins and get ready for dinner. Then we’ll have some time to get closer before bedtime. We have a busy day of fun tomorrow.” When they stare at you blankly, obviously waiting for one of you to start leading the way, you start marching your way down the path with as much vigor as you can muster. 

Soon enough, you and Sanemi are back in your positions on the stairs to your cabin. That comfortable silence blankets you again, like the setting sun’s warmth. “Ya’know you’re really good at this,” Sanemi begins before blowing out a breath and turning to face you. “M’glad we get to work together.” He finishes, a distant glimmer of emotion swirling around in his lilac gaze. You suck in a breath, a storm brewing in your stomach. 

Sanemi was a good guy, that much was obvious, but all those years ago had driven a wedge between you two. He hadn’t said the words ‘I’m sorry’ yet, which was a small nuance in the grand scheme of things. Sanemi was never really the type to say an apology, instead, he showed you. You can’t expect that much to change within him and you’re kind of glad. He would make it up to you until you were sure the wounds had begun to heal. He was giving you time to make up your mind on whether or not you wanted to forgive him. “Me too,” You whisper against the breeze. 

A whole column of picnic tables lined up edge-to-edge belong to your crew as you file into the mess hall. A couple of other groups are already sitting down with food, including the littles. Mitsuri and Kyojuro wave excitedly at you and Sanemi. You grin, waving back. “Alright squiggles, show me how nicely you can line up to receive dinner. Then come sit down and we’ll have a little camp saying before we start eating together.” They scramble toward the food and you kick your legs under the table part, deflating slightly. 

Sanemi comes up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. It makes you straighten your back and whip around to look at him. His lips curl in a playful grin. “Want the usual?” You glance at the kitchen, your stomach growling softly. You look back to Sanemi, nodding eagerly. 

As he walks away you think back to when he’d grab you dinner all the time, sitting in this exact mess hall. “Don’t disappoint me Shinazugawa!” You yell and he shoots you a smug grin as he scoots in line next to one of the boys in your group, Kenji. 

Mitsuri peers at you from her table, glancing back at Sanemi. Something seems fishy, she just can’t put her finger on it. Before this month you were complaining about seeing him again and now you two appear to be chumming again. Did something happen that you weren’t telling her? She pouts, nuding Kyojuro. “Do those two seem friendlier?” She asks in a hushed tone. Kyojuro furrows his thick brows, humming as his gaze flips between his white-haired friend and you. He’s about to tell Mitsuri she’s off her rocker, but he catches Sanemi throwing a look back at you while you are otherwise occupied with kiddos sitting down next to you. 

Kyojuro turns to Mitsuri, concern written all over his face. “Yes,” He hisses and now Mitsuri is concerned you may have ingested a little too much alcohol trying to help her out.

After a couple of minutes, Sanemi places a tray of vanilla pudding, tater tots, and chicken tenders with honey mustard sauce in front of you. “M’lady.” He grins, slipping onto the bench across from you with a tray of his own. Hana smacks Sanemi’s arm and he peers down at her with a surprised look. “What was that about Hana?” He questions, holding onto his arm where she hit him. 

She puffs out her lips and points at you angrily. “Mister Sanemi, we just went over this. Miss YN is not your lady.” She crosses her arms glaring at him. His brows shoot up, giving you a look of amusement before patting Hana’s head.

She looks like she might bite him at first, but then she leans into his hand. “Only because Miss YN keeps rejecting me..” He smirks at you. Ha! As if!

You roll your eyes, but gather the attention of your tables. “Let’s sing my favorite camp song!” You lead them in the Camp Maple fighting song that ends with chanting the name of the camp. “Wake me up wake me up we’re going to camp! I can’t wait I can’t wait we’re going to camp! There it is there it is we’re going to camp! Which one which one!? C-A-M P…M-A-P L-E!” They seem to enjoy every second of it, mainly because they get to scream as loud as they can. Sanemi meets your gaze for a blissful second before you busy yourself with your food, biting into one of the chicken tenders. Delight rumbles from your chest as you swallow the meat. 

Sanemi can’t help but watch you stuff your face. On one hand, he’s amused by how you still enjoy the simple things in life. On the other hand, he’s concerned when his heart races at you picking up the vanilla pudding. Being the heathen you were, as a child you’d just eat it with your finger. You claimed you could get more out of a cup if you used your finger. He grips onto the bench, gritting his teeth as you follow suit, sticking your pointer finger in. The creamy pudding sits there momentarily before you pop it into your mouth. 

It’s a simple, innocent – completely fucking innocent – motion, but his thoughts shift to something more warm than the humidity. Fuck why was seeing you damp with light sweat making him hungry? When you let your tongue swirl around the tip of your finger it drives Sanemi mad. Is he panting? He feels like he’s panting. 

A bit of pudding is on the corner of your mouth, waiting there. His heated gaze mimics how your tongue darts out to collect it. He sucks on his lips, regarding how your plump lips look so fucking delicious right now. 

The only thing that snaps Sanemi out of his daze is Hana plopping a spoon in front of you with a disgusted look on her little features. “You know Miss YN, if you needed a spoon you could’ve just asked.” She grunts, shuddering. Your cheeks flush and for the briefest seconds, you gape, staring into his eyes. Your cheeks flush a vibrant pink and suddenly Sanemi is picking up the spoon and using it in his own pudding. Hana and you both gawk at him, but if he were allowed to feed into one desire this whole time, it would be watching you eat pudding with your finger. Especially if it meant you’d look at him like that again. 

“This is the best pudding I’ve ever had.” Sanemi mumbles and Hana sighs frustratedly. “Something wrong Hana?” He asks. She whips her head toward him with a frown. 

Sanemi has to roll his lips into his mouth to stop from laughing at how cute she’s glaring at him. “Yes, I’m going to have nightmares.” She huffs. Yeah me too, but they aren’t exactly going to be nightmares Sanemi thought. 

Dinner finishes and children run around your feet as you walk out of the mess hall. The short walk back to Caterpillar Circle feels like an eternity with Sanemi walking silently beside you. “Can we wear our pajamas to the campfire!?” Aoi breezes past you yelling. 

You quirk a brow. “How about we make it a race? Whoever is back at the picnic tables first… wins.” You eye the giddy looks on all of their faces. “Ready? Go!” You don’t expect Sanemi to bolt toward his side of the cabin. Oh, so he’s going to play it that way?

Kids scramble to their cabins, giggling and yelling. You’re also laughing as you quickly swing your door open. You spot the pajamas you’d laid out earlier this morning with a smirk on your lips. The one reason you suggested a race is because you had an advantage. Cheating? No, strategic gameplay.  

You tug your clothes off, and toss them in the hamper beside your desk. A pair of shorts and an oversized shirt later you’re rushing out of the door in your slippers. You glance to your side, grinning mischievously when you don’t see Sanemi coming out of his door. You pump your hand in the air victoriously, spinning around in a mini victory dance. You proudly take your time prancing down the stairs, but when you turn to head toward the picnic tables Sanemi is leaning against the end of one with an amused smirk tugging his lips upward. Your mouth falls open, glancing back at his door. “How…? You…?” You slump in defeat as you reach him. 

He chuckles softly, bumping arms with you. “Your victory dance was pretty cute.” He teases. You glare at him, shoving him back with your side. 

Cute? In what way did he mean that? Sanemi must’ve talked too much with Tengen to pull one of those lines. You mutter a string of curses as you sit down in one of the green plastic lawn chairs. The arms dig into your hips and you grunt uncomfortably, pushing yourself into a less painful position. 

Your thighs are pressed together as you squirm around in the chair and Sanemi finds himself ogling the space where your shorts disappear under your tummy. He wanted to run his tongue along that area while grazing his teeth along your thighs. A lascivious smirk pulls on his mouth as he clears his throat, turning his face to the sky. 

The campfire starts with each kiddo introducing themselves, where they’re from, and three interesting facts about them. After the introductions, you bring out the s’more fixings with a twinkling grin as the kids scream enthusiastically. The night ends with you and Sanemi carrying some of them who fall asleep back to their beds. It was a euphoric space in time, something about today felt so right. Maybe the following weeks wouldn’t be so bad.

❦❦❦❦❦

You were wrong, so wrong. Sanemi stands to your side with his swim shorts on, assessing your outfit. “So… you’re not going to swim?” He cocks his head, quirking a brow. You lean back further into the armless beach chair, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He closes his mouth, glancing at the group of kids playing with water toys in and out of the water. “Nope.” You reply. “Observing from a distance is more my thing.” You continue, sliding your sunglasses over your eyes so you don’t have to squint through the rays of the sun. Sanemi sighs, disappointment finding its way into his mind. 

This morning when he saw you in a camp shirt with jean shorts he was sure you had a bikini on underneath. The only reason he got through a kid screaming about not getting any bacon this morning was the light at the end of his tunnel – you in a tight flattering bikini. “Y’know I knew you weren’t girly, but this is a whole new level.” Sanemi pokes at you, hoping that the fiery spirit within you will shoot out if he bugs you enough.

You glare at him, gesturing to your outfit. “This outfit is very girly I’ll have you know.” Sanemi shakes his head like he doesn’t believe you so you scoot as quickly as you can out of the chair. “Fine, watch the kids. I’ll be right back.” You snap. As you’re stomping back to your room you can’t help but think maybe you acted exactly how he wanted you to. If that was the case, then you’d give him what he wants, but he’ll pay the price. The malicious grin that forms on your lips as you pull out your lavender string bikini is grounds to have you locked away. 

Sanemi throws a beach ball at a group of the boys in the face as they giggle. In the back of his head is a flurry of lewd images of you spread out on that damn beach chair with a revealing swimsuit on. The boys throw the ball back at him and it plinks against his chest. He shakes his head, reaching for the ball as the boys groan. Fantasies of you were a distraction so he couldn't even imagine what the real thing would do to him. “Woah…” He hears one of the boys whisper. He glances up, met with the heavenly picture of you walking down the bank in a light purple string bikini that laces across your front. The cups are simple triangles with a string wrapping around the back of your neck for support he would only suppose. The bottoms rise above the roundness of your hips, showing off the fullness of your body. Damn, his mouth felt dry as he can’t tear his eyes away from you. 

His stomach was a trainwreck of emotions, the ball long forgotten by Sanemi. He blinks rapidly, trying to get you out of his eyes, but it was damn hard when you slowly lay back down on the chair, crossing your ankles over each other. He can see the side of your ass and for a beat, he feels like he might lose control. Then one of the boys throws the beach ball at him, it smacks against his face. This was torture. He expected you to look good, but the thin fabric allowed him to see the indent of your nipples – a vivid image he was never going to forget. 

You smirk while lounging in the chair, studying the way Sanemi’s mouth falls open ever so slightly. It was a strange sense of gratification that he was so enraptured by how you appeared in the bikini. Almost like you were happy he was gaping at you, a fire lit behind his eyes that ignited something in your chest. If you weren’t careful you were bound to let it out at some point. 

Since you were lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed Sanemi stalking up to your side. You squeak when he appears next to you, dropping a towel over your exposed skin. You glare up at him through your sunglasses. “Did you walk out of every boy’s fantasy?” He grumbles, running a hand through his damp hair. 

Clicking your tongue, you toss the towel to the side and sit up in the chair. “Does that include yours Sanemi?” You inquire, pushing your sunglasses up through your hair. He stares at you for a while, mulling over what kind of response to give you. 

Suddenly, he scoffs and turns his back to you. “Yeah. Yeah it does.” You swallow hard at his confession, the sun’s heat no longer feeling as hot. You scoff, leaning back into the chair. He gives you one last glance before running back to play with the boys in the water. 

Was he being serious? He couldn’t have been…right? It wouldn’t make sense for Sanemi Shinazugawa, the guy whose seen you eat a bug, to have a fantasy – or whatever he meant about you. The confusion made the victory bikini less fun. 

At dinner, the kids are enraptured in a conversation about tomorrow’s canoe outing in the afternoon. This might seem silly, with you being a sleepaway camp counselor that has a giant lake as its main attraction… but you never learned how to fully swim. You can keep your head above water if you’re able to touch the bottom. It's something you haven't mentioned to anyone due to the fact you would die of embarrassment. “How quickly can you go Miss YN?” Hana’s eyes are pleading with you to answer her inquiry. 

So you smile, despite the obvious anxiety of where this answer might lead you. “Faster than Mister Sanemi.” You reply, jerking your thumb toward the white-haired male sitting a bit further down from you. 

He perks up at the mention of his name, meeting your eyes. “Did you just say you’re faster than me?” He laughs, scooting down to sit across from you. Hana nods ecstatically before you can brush off the challenge dripping from his voice. 

You sigh, shaking your hands in front of you. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dare reveal the truth about you being a slowpoke.” You tease. Sanemi quirks a brow, letting his eyes look you up and down. The simple motion makes your muscles tense with a buzzing sensation. 

He hums to himself, leaning back with a shake of his head. “I bet you can’t win in the beginners' course against me.” Sanemi smirks, the boys around him snickering. 

Your eye twitches at the smug look on his stupid face. You clasp your hands together, smiling with gritted teeth. “You’re on Shinazugawa.”

That was your second mistake of the week as you shakily got into a canoe the next morning dressed in a white shirt and comfortable black shorts. The kids were fine with pushing off the hike to another day to witness this extraordinary event. Sanemi is grinning victoriously already. It makes you want to slap him with the paddle you’re holding. “Ready?” He asks. 

The grip you have on the paddle tightens as you nod curtly. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You respond. Sanemi nods to one of the kids who starts a countdown before they all scream GO! Everything is going fine until you reach the turn. Sanemi is already far ahead of you and this becomes more of proving you can do it to yourself than winning against that smug bastard. 

With the paddle dipping into the water you manage to turn around the flagged buoy, children cheering your name. Your heart nearly explodes with happiness at the accomplishment. You make it a few more feet before you get too overzealous and the canoe starts to flip. As you crash into the water you knew you’d just have to flip yourself back over to – well, not drown. But something goes wrong and you slip out of the canoe, into the deep end of the lake. Murky water crowds your vision and a few thoughts crowd your mind. 

Will you get out of this alive? Is this some sort of divine intervention about how you’ve been previously living your life? Was this your canon event? You’d laugh at that one if you weren’t still sinking to what felt like the depths of the lake.

Would your mother even care? Okay, that one stings, but it’s something you think about a lot. When you’re driving and have one of those intrusive thoughts about wrecking. Would she care? Noticing a creepy person walking behind you at night. Would she come to your funeral? And now, as you lose the will to breathe. Would she remember what you smelt like, sounded like, looked like? 

Sanemi crawls out of his canoe, raising his hands in victory. He turns around to gloat in your face, but he’s met with your canoe upside down. You are nowhere in sight and after a second of you not popping back up, Sanemi frantically dives into the water. Where are you? His hands glide through the water, searching for any sign of your body. Where are you? Water fills his ears, only making the pounding in his chest louder with each stroke of his arms. He breaches the surface, gasping for air and twirling around to see anything – anything that would lead him to you. “Mister Sanemi! There!” A child screeches, pointing to the front side of your canoe. 

He plunges back in after taking a large gulp of air. He will find you this time. He’s not scared anymore. Not like all those years ago. He couldn’t lose you, not like this.

Amid some plant life is your floating body. If Sanemi were above water he thinks he’d cry with joy. He quickly moves toward you, scooping you up and pushing both of you toward the surface. Please please please don’t be too late. Sanemi’s mind is whirling with anxiety and his heart is pounding with the lack of oxygen. You both break through the surface, Sanemi pulling you along with him to shore. He deposits your limp body on the sand, panting and scanning for any sign of injury. 

You’re not breathing. Damnit. Sanemi’s jaw ticks as the children rush toward him. “Mister Sanemi give her CPR!” Hana yells, stomping her foot and mimicking the pushing rhythm he should be performing on you. He wipes his mouth, nostrils flaring as he slides to your side. His insides were twisting in unbreakable knots, squeezing his lungs of all air.

He pinches your nose and lowers his mouth to yours. “You can yell at me later,” He breathes quietly before connecting his lips to yours. As he pushes air through your lungs his lecherous mind drifts to how very wonderful your lips feel against his. They’re wet and taste like lake water, but they’re so damn soft. After a few more blows he worriedly looks at your chest. He doesn’t want to break your ribs, but if he has to in order to save your life – he’s going to.

Luckily, you chose now as the moment to gasp in air and then start hacking up lake water. Your eyes wildly scan your surroundings, locking onto the man hovering inches from your face. You squirm away from him, coughing into your hand. Sanemi and the children watch you with concern-stricken faces. You touch your throat gingerly, meeting the swirling lilac gaze of the male in front of you. “You saved me,” You croak out as it all falls into place, furrowing your brows. 

Hana pops into your view shaking her head. “Took him a long time to kiss you!” She yells, an annoyed pout on her lips. You glance back to Sanemi, his gaze still locked onto you. 

He cocks a grin in your direction which makes your heart swell. “I gave you mouth-to-mouth.” He explains and the worry about you being unconscious for your first kiss with Sanemi – not that you’ll have a first kiss with him – drifts away. The thought of his mouth on yours stays wandering in your head regardless. “Kids, can you hang out in the mess hall while I take Miss YN to the infirmary?” Sanemi questions, the children eagerly following instructions. He peers down at you once they’ve all scurried toward the big building. 

With a grunt, he slides his hands behind your neck and knees, hoisting you up bridal style. You yelp at how easily he holds you against his chest. “Hey, I can walk,” You grumble, glaring at his concentrated expression. He shakes his head, climbing up the bank. 

As he climbs you nearly tumble out of his arms. He cracks a smile, shifting you in his grasp. “Might wanna hold on tighter than that darlin’. Don’t worry, I won’t mind.” 

Begrudgingly you wrap your arms around his neck. The walk to the infirmary takes less than a couple of strides when he reaches the walkway. Shinobu worriedly meets your gaze when Sanemi kicks open the door with his foot. She stands from her desk, hurrying over to his side. “What happened!?” She assesses you with a scrutinizing look. “Put her down on that bed. I need to go get another bottle of aspirin from the main office. Sit tight.” Shinobu huffs, running a hand through her hair before slipping out of the door. 

Sanemi gently lays you on the bed, giving you a scan of his own. You swallow hard, wondering why your body feels so warm despite the brisk ac making your wet clothes stick to you. The way his lilac eyes regard you made something inside of you switch. He’d shown you how deeply he cared for you by saving your life. Granted, any decent person would’ve jumped in to pull you out of the water – but Sanemi looks shaken up. Like he almost lost you. It makes your chest heave, a heavyweight tugging on it as you reach up to touch his cheek. 

His worried look turns to you, a slight wobble in his irises as your thumb strokes the side of his face. “Hey… I’m here. I’m okay. You did such a good job.” You whisper, but yet your voice seems too loud. Sanemi leans into your touch, shutting his eyes as he takes in a shaky breath. 

It was all fun and games until he had to think of a world without you in it. The bottom line is he wouldn’t have a world without you. The grass would shrivel, the color would drain, and sunlight would simply cease to exist. “You should’ve told me you couldn’t swim.” His brows furrow and he opens his eyes to stare into your very soul. “Why didn’t you tell me? I was so worried YN.” He rolls his lips into a thin line, his chin trembling. 

It’s like you lose your breath all at once. This man, the one you thought didn’t have an ounce of compassion for you, was about to start crying because you failed to mention your lack of skill. You bump your forehead against his head, kissing his hairline. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” At your words he jerks away from your head, his eyes wildly scanning your face. Your breath holds tightly in your throat as time seemingly slows. 

Then his eyes fall to your lips and everything in the universe pulls you two together into a soft brush of the lips. Given the state of it, hidden behind a white curtain on the infirmary bed, the kiss felt too precious. Too wonderful. Your hand falls from his face and before you have a moment to give in to whatever was happening, Sanemi pulls away. He shoots to a standing position, turning on his heel. Your body cools instantly. Oh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” He begins, taking a couple of steps toward the curtain. Oh. He quickly glances over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He hisses, then rushes out of the building nearly bumping into Shinobu as she walks back with a pill bottle in hand. She jumps back, eyes widening as she watches Sanemi stalk toward the mess hall. If it hadn’t been for the heat she might’ve mistaken the red on the tip of his ears as something else. 

❦❦❦❦❦

Weekends are set up for the kids to decide what they want to do. It’s a free period within reason. Most of them hang out in groups around the buildings, playing games or swimming. Weekends allow the leaders to get chores done around the campgrounds, like picking up trash, organizing things for the next week, arranging laundry, and supervising more involved things. 

You happened to spend most of the first weekend with a group of girls who wanted to use the craft supplies for next week. Since Sanemi was your co-leader there were times you had to speak with him, which made avoiding him incredibly difficult. 

The thing that upset you the most was even after he ran off, your heart still flutters at just the sight of him. Weren’t you supposed to be the master of your own emotions? It frustrated you to no end how you sought him out in crowds. At first, you tried to convince yourself it was a strategy to avoid him, but when he didn’t come to talk to you somehow your heart sank. 

Before you know it, Monday morning arrives, casting a stormy forecast for the rest of the week. It’s pouring heavily outside the mess hall windows. Fortunately, your group of kids are behaving even though it couldn’t be easy stuck inside all day. Your eyes are drawn to the other group happily stringing beads onto yarn. 

Sanemi sits amongst them with a warm smile on his face, actively trying not to glance at you. He can feel your gaze on him and it was making his heart feel weird, like he’d just run a mile or hiked up a trail. He presses his lips into a thin line, laughing absentmindedly at one of the boys spilling beads everywhere. 

The kiss. That’s all he could think about and it was ruining his life. All night he tossed and turned thinking about knocking your door down so he could do it again. Regret ran through every fiber of his being when he walked away. He thought he’d gotten over his fears, but it turns out that realizing you might have feelings for your good friend is not the easiest situation to be in. He was in a panic, fucking terrified you would hate him for kissing you. He didn’t even ask you, it just happened. What kind of scumbag was he? 

He groans, turning to face away from you. You huff, rolling your eyes. Fine, he could be that way if he wanted. He’s the one who kissed you anyway. This was all on Sanemi. Hana nudges her friends Keiko, Mai, and Akane. They all slowly turn to stare at you, then toward Sanemi. Keiko narrows her eyes while tying the knot on her bracelet. “Somethings wrong,” She mumbles, slipping the adorably crafted jewelry onto her arm. 

Mai and Akane nod vigorously. “Why are they avoiding each other?” Akane hisses, glancing back at their other leader. Hana shakes her head, stroking her chin in thought. 

Kenji appears behind the group, causing them all to jump. Mai slaps his shoulder and he giggles. “What’cha talkin’ ‘bout?” He pokes his head in between Akane and Mai’s shoulders. They collectively sigh, rolling their eyes at the annoying boy. 

Hana gestures to both leaders, pinching her brow. “For some reason, Mister Sanemi and Miss YN are avoiding each other.” She explains snappily. 

Kenji pops his head up, glancing at both of you. His mouth forms in the shape of an ‘o’. “Ah, this reminds me of when my mom and dad would fight and then ignore each other.” Hana perks up at his suggestion, slowly turning to look at her friends. 

Mai raises a brow and then grabs a piece of yarn. “There’s only one way to fix this.” She valiantly collects a bunch of green beads to mix with lilac ones. She picks out two heart-shaped beads that sit on either side of a letter in the middle. When she’s done, two bracelets sit in front of her. One has an ‘S’ with two red hearts on either side, followed by a pattern of lilac and green. The other is the same, except in the middle is the first letter of your name. “Matching friendship bracelets,” She holds them up, smiling triumphantly. 

Hana claps her hands together. “Wonderfully done Agent Mai, now let’s give it to them!” She grabs the ‘S’ one from Mai’s hands, running over to your side. “Miss YN!” She yells. “We made this for you!” Without much consideration for your wrist, she shoves it past your hand. 

“Here you go Mister Sanemi!” You turn to see Kenji holding what seems to be the same bracelet in front of Sanemi’s face. A roll of thunder shakes the valley outside and his eyes meet yours momentarily. It sends a shock of emotions through you.

Later that night as the rain plips against your window you stare at your wrist in awe. A growl echoes around your room and it takes you a moment to realize it was your stomach. It almost makes you crack a smile. You would’ve if you weren’t in such a daze as you walk out into the living room area. 

What you don’t expect to see is Sanemi leaning against the counter shirtless, with his sweats hanging loosely around his athletic hips. You swallow, taking your time to rake your eyes up his bare chest. When you end up meeting his gaze his lips tug into a smirk. “Enjoy the view?” He mutters, picking a peach up off the counter. 

Your brows furrow and you cross your arms over your chest defensively. “As a matter of fact, no I’m not.” You snap, scoffing and lying through your teeth. 

Sanemi shrugs, biting into the juicy peach tantalizingly slow. Juices leak from the broken skin, dribbling down his chin as he takes the flesh into his mouth. His tongue darts out to lick up a droplet escaping down the side of the fruit. You gulp as he continues to eat. The noises alone were enough to drive a woman mad, but the fact you were ovulating made everything so much worse. “Want one?” Sanemi asks, licking his lips of all the sticky juice. 

If you were crazy your mouth would fall open, allowing him to put the one he was eating into your mouth. “No.” You grumble, yanking a can of Pringles out of the cabinet. 

Sanemi watches how your ass curves as you stretch to reach into the upper cabinet. “Suit yourself,” He mutters, biting into the peach again. You roll your eyes and march right back into your room, tossing the pringles onto your bed. You ruffle your hair, silently screaming into the night. Fuck that guy for being shirtless. He waltzed around like a whore scrounging for some loose change obviously trying to get a rise out of you. Would the kiss go unmentioned forever? How were you supposed to be around Sanemi when all you could think about was how badly you wanted to jump his bones? You’re absolutely fucked. You grit your teeth together as you glare at the door. But damn did he have such a perfect body. The sweats, the lazy smile, the damn peach he bit into. It was all torture and he damn well knew it.

He wasn’t likely to figure out the full extent of your feelings– hell you didn’t even know exactly what you felt, but if he kept this up you might as well walk around with a neon sign on your forehead that reads I’d like to fuck Sanemi Shinazugawa. Maybe then your mother would pay attention to you. Not that you care.

You glance down at your wrist again, the letter ‘S’ spreading a grin across your face. This was stupid. So stupid. What if Sanemi was still in the other room? Or using the bathroom? What would you do then? You have a pit of desire and you wish Sanemi would clean it off with his teeth. Were you jealous of a peach? Groaning, you slip out of your bottom layer of clothing, discarding it on the floor. Things were getting dangerous. Your thoughts were supplying you with a fantasy world and you were about to become delusional. At least then you wouldn’t have to face the reality of this stupid – well, whatever it was. 

Positioning yourself against the corner of your bed, you spread your legs apart. The cool breeze from the ac hits your damp pussy and the sensation makes you slump against the wall. If Sanemi were between your legs right now he’d probably lick his lips and spread them even wider so he could have full range to lavish his tongue against your sensitive clit. A tiny moan whines from your throat. 

The image drives you to reach between your thighs, hissing when your fingers brush against your clit. His tongue would feel warm, wet, and slick as it laps at your folds. Your fingers plunge deeper, a strangled moan falling from your mouth.

Your breathing pattern stalls, hiccuping as you work yourself into a frenzy – the inside of your stomach feeling gooey and hot. His long thick fingers would slip into your pussy, teasing the entrance where you’d beg for him to fuck you later. He’d smirk, pleased with how you’re so desperate for his cock, for all of him. But he’d make you wait, good girls always wait for permission. You groan – a guttural pleasured groan. It rolls through your chest, cracking into a whimper at the end as you edge yourself closer to your crest. 

It’s like you’re seeing stars with how your fingers feel, you only wish Sanemi were here, ready to please like he usually is. His words and touch always elicit a response from you. He had to know that. What kind of response would he get out of you as he lined the tip of his cock up at your entrance? Making you bed for him to fuck you unconscious. You’d be such a good little slut for him. Taking all of him inside your hungry cunt until he clung to your hips, spilling his seed inside of you. 

A tense pinch of pleasure squeezes your core, crashing through your body with a string of perfectly pretty moans. Sanemi hadn’t meant to listen to you masturbating. It was an accident – he’d come to your door to apologize for allowing you to misunderstand his intentions. His knuckles had brushed against the wood of your door when he heard you gasp. Wondering if you were okay he pressed his ear to the door. Then, his muscles tensed as you purred out a moan. 

Sanemi was a decent man – or so he thought until his hand slips down to his growing bulge. He hisses as you whimper, gasping for air – your bed squeaking with movement. He wants to swing the door open and take in the sight of you sprawled out. What kind of face were you making while moaning like that? More importantly, what were you thinking about? 

You’re whimpering and the glint of the beads around Sanemi’s wrist sends his thoughts spiraling. The very same bracelet he wore on his arm was around yours. It was like he was between your legs, pressing his thumb against your clit to proudly watch you squirm in pleasure. His mouth waters, imagining how you’d taste after cumming. His cock aches to burrow into your wet warmth and stay there forever. 

He presses his forehead to the wood, letting out a tight breath as he strokes his length through the cloth of his sweatpants. If he stayed here any longer it would surely result in him knocking down your door. Not the valiant way he had thought about confessing. Sanemi steps away from your door, cursing under his breath. He holds up his arm, staring at the matching bracelet until he notices the first letter of your name. His gaze slowly makes it way back to the door. Was there an ‘S’ on yours? For his name? His eyes flutter shut, a trickle of possessiveness racking through his body. 

Tuesday is finger painting. The kids each get their own easel and insist you and Sanemi paint with them. The morning ends with Sanemi having paint smeared across his face and you with splotches on your arms. The afternoon is bubble painting, which results in bubbles being blown everywhere. Wednesday is crafting things with clay. You proudly present your monstrosity at the end of the day. Sanemi and the kids try their best to compliment whatever you had created, but you can tell they’re just being nice. 

When Thursday rolls around the kids want to draw and color all day so Sanemi and you make sure they have lots of construction paper, colors, and other supplies. You’re sitting with Hana’s group of friends and Sanemi is across the room with a group of boys, drawing furiously.

Kenji peers down at what Mister Sanemi had drawn. “Hey, that kind of looks like Miss YN,” He points at the stick figure holding the hand of the other one. Sanemi covers the page and shakes his head. 

Kenji somehow manages to push his arms off, grabbing the paper. “Oi! Brat, give that back!” He yells as Kenji runs over to your side. You smile down at him as he hands you the page. 

You cover your heart and your smile grows. “Aww, Kenji did you draw this?” You ask, your voice softening. 

He shakes his head vigorously. “Nope! Mister Sanemi drew you and him holding hands!” You glance up, meeting the flushed face of Sanemi standing over Kenji. His eyes look pleading as you drop your eyes to the drawing again. It did kind of look like you, but that would be impossible. Why would Sanemi draw something like this? 

“YN, listen…” He starts, brushing up against you. Your body stiffens at his close proximity. “I hadn’t finished, I was going to draw the kids in next.” He explains. You wish he would step back from your side because his warmth is driving you insane. 

Kenji giggles as he rushes back to his group of friends. “It wouldn’t matter anyway.” You state, handing the drawing back to Sanemi. “I could honestly care less what you draw.” You smile sarcastically and turn back to your group. Sanemi stands behind you for a moment, his heart yearning to reach out and touch you again – but he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He obviously already fucked up when he kissed you, after all you’d been avoiding him. It was best that he kept his distance to figure out how to talk to you and give you space so you’d listen to him.

The next morning you manage to chow down your breakfast before Sanemi enters the kitchen area. In all honesty, you were aware thinking about someone you were mad at while masturbating… wasn’t the best look. You didn’t want to think about the realities of what that meant for you since Sanemi was still being an asshole about the whole innocent kiss thing. The thoughts going through your head last night were far from innocent. 

You’re sitting in a lawn chair, writing down some ideas for today’s craft. The kids had to make puppets and come up with a script to perform in the afternoon. With your group of kids, things were bound to go smoothly. You grin, shutting your notebook and checking the time on your phone. It was almost time for the kids to meet you and Sanemi near the picnic benches. You glare at your cabin, waiting for the white-haired male to step out of his door at any moment. The knob turns and you quickly act like you weren’t blatantly waiting for him. “Mornin’ YN,” Sanemi calls, jogging up to your side. You roll your eyes, glancing at the casually attractive outfit he has on. A pair of fitted black shorts that accentuate the size of his muscular thighs with a loose gray shirt tucked into one side. 

He plops down next to you. “Why were you so late?” You interrogate. Sanemi quirks an easy smirk, eyeing you out of the corner of his eye.

Sanemi props one of his legs over the other, leaning further into the chair. “I had to take a shower,” He begins, raising his brows. “Could’ve used the company.” He cocks his head toward you, his lilac eyes filling with an expression you couldn’t pinpoint. 

Your brows furrow despite the blush spreading across your cheeks. “Scared of showering by yourself just like you’re scared of kissing people?” You snap and his playfulness is immediately wiped off his face. Where were these words coming from? Were you going crazy? The inside voices are becoming the outside voices! It’s too late now to back peddle. You scoff, turning away from him. “Don’t, I know you regret and it’s fine. I just figured you would’ve cut back on the flirting.” You push out of the chair. “I’m not some girl you can flirt with for the summer and then fuck off to wherever, okay? If you’re going to accidentally kiss me then fucking own up to it and talk to me like an adult. You made me feel so uncomfortable because I somehow thought it was my fault. So this whole cool-guy act needs to stop. Until we have a real conversation about what happened I would rather go back to friendly hating each other.” 

As you stomp away Sanemi feels the ‘oh shit’ factor roll through him. While he’d been trying to figure out his feelings toward you, he’d been allowing you to figure it out for him. You assumed he wanted some summer fun and thought better after kissing you, but that wasn’t it at all. Sanemi was falling, so fucking deeply in love with you. He had been ever since you were kids, but as a boy who grew up barely knowing what kindness was, it was hard to seek out those emotions. Now looking back to how he felt when you ran away into the woods that night… he realizes the panic of finding your mother was so you would be found as quickly as possible. No one saw you for a week after that and he’s still not sure what happened, but he knew it wasn’t good. 

He was stronger now and he’d stand up to your demons, slaying them with you by his side. He would protect you no matter what, but right now he had to explain this misunderstanding before it was too late. Kissing you was the best thing to happen to him – accident or not. It made him forget how shitty his life was and how blissful it could be by just seeing you. He’d fucked up.

After cooling off you wandered back to the growing group of children that rush you when they spot you. It makes your heart warm that they’re so excited. Sanemi watches you from a distance and you’re glad he seems to finally be listening to you. 

Leading the kids to the mess hall through the light morning rain is more peaceful than it should be. No one tries to jump in the mud, they stay in between you and Sanemi, walking politely. When you explain in detail what they’re supposed to do all of them get to work using craft paper and whatever was leftover from the week. The morning blows past and suddenly you’re sitting in a seat next to Sanemi as groups of kids put on puppet shows. Some of them make you snort with laughter and others are downright works of art. Then, Hana and her group of friends present their show. A spikey white-haired puppet and one that looks eerily like you pop up into the makeshift theater. 

Your eyes widen realizing what’s going on. “Hi there darling! I sure do love your face!” Kenji yells, playing the white-haired puppet. 

Slowly you and Sanemi make eye contact. “We should love each other’s faces forever. Then love our baby’s faces. Then love our-”

You shoot into a standing position, clapping your hands together. “Okay, that’ll wrap up the puppet shows everyone!” You demand, laughing nervously. What the actual fuck? You whisk around to glare at Hana and Kenji dramatically making the two puppets kiss. “Oi, William Shakespear and Agatha Cristi get over here, now.” You point to the spot next to you and Sanemi. Akane and Mai scurry away with the rest of the kids heading toward the snack table. 

Kenji and Hana meander toward you; pouts puffing out their bottom lips. “Guys, you can’t keep doing this.” Sanemi gestures to the puppets on their hands. “Miss YN and I aren’t some story you can just use willy-nilly. We’re real people with real emotions.” 

A scoffed laugh falls from your lips. “Mister Sanemi has a hard time with emotions anyway, that’s why this show wasn’t even true to life. He would never call someone darling.” You explain dully. 

Hana shakes her head, pointing to Sanemi. “Nu-uh! He called you darling the other day!” She exclaims. You glance at Sanemi and then drag a hand down your face. 

“Hana, this isn’t something you should be concerned with.”

“But we just want you and Mister Sanemi to make up.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s no fun while you guys are fighting.” Your eyes bulge as she talks. Did the kids care that much? And they noticed? Gosh, that was kind of sweet. 

Sanemi leans forward, ruffling Hana’s hair. “Don’t worry about it kiddo, we’ll work on it.” He glances at you with a slight smile. A sigh rushes through you as you nod in agreement. Kenji and Hana rush off to the snack table to join their friends. You can remember a time when you and Sanemi played pranks on the camp leaders. A growing ache suffocates your next breath. You peek at him, wondering where things went wrong. Part of you was mad that he walked away after the kiss and another part was angry because you enjoyed it so much. No matter what happened it felt like you couldn’t be friends with him. It was like the universe was keeping you away from each other for a reason unbeknownst to you.

When you both get back to the cabin nothing gets talked about. It’s an awful feeling, like abandonment all over again. Sanemi didn’t care enough about you to talk or explain why he kissed you. Everything was so nice until that stupid kiss that you couldn’t stop thinking about. The fact that it was that good, yet lasted about two seconds drives you mad. 

It’s not until Saturday morning as the sky quakes with thunder and heavy rain, that you decide enough is enough. If he wasn’t going to talk to you, then you’d have to take it into your own hands. That was until there was a knock on your outside door. You get out of bed and open it to find Yena holding an umbrella. Her eyes are filled with some sort of sorrow as she blows out a heavy breath. “YN, deary, I need to speak with one of your kiddos. Can you bring Kenji to the main office? His mother is on the phone.” She explains, a sad smile creasing her lips. You nod your head, looking toward the cabin you knew Kenji was sleeping in. 

You look back to Yena, wondering how serious it was for her to be so affected by it. “Yeah. Let me get dressed and I’ll bring him over before 8.” You reply, a cool wash of anxiety coating your insides. Yena nods. 

“I’ll see you then.” She turns to leave, walking out into the downpour. You study her retreating form before shaking off the dreadful feeling that was wrapping around you. After slipping into a comfy pair of shorts and a hoodie you run over to cabin 3. 

Knocking on the door a sleepy boy answers the door. You recognize him as Mikey, one of Kenji’s close friends. “Hey Mikey can you get Kenji for me, please? Tell him to get dressed and meet me out here.” You explain and the little boy shuts the door. 

A couple of minutes later Kenji pops out of the door, eagerly running up to you. He hugs your legs and bounces up and down. “Are we going on a special mission Miss YN!?” He yells, grabbing onto your hand. For some reason your heart aches, sensing something is off.

You bend down to his level anyway, putting on your biggest grin. “We sure are! I needed my bravest soldier to help me on a secret quest.” Your face becomes stern and Kenji giggles, running around in a circle. 

“Don’t worry Miss YN! I’ll protect you! Did’ya know I’m stronger than Mister Sanemi!?” He squeals, punching the air. You stand up, laughing off his comment about your co-leader. All those years carrying you around and taking care of his little brother were bound to build up excess strength. Plus those muscles of his were no joke…

Kenji latches onto your hand again as you walk the path to the main office. It’s not raining as hard as it was moments ago, but thunder still rolls through the sky. You walk him through the main office door, Yena waiting behind the counter with the phone pressed to her ear. She spots Kenji and waves him over. He sends a look at you over his shoulder before releasing your hand to walk to Yena’s side. She hands him the phone and his face instantly drops.

The hands of your past crawl back into your stomach, clawing out anything good and leaving behind gouges of trauma, boiling toward your throat. Kenji’s eyes start trembling as he clutches the phone to his ear. “No! No! You can’t!” He suddenly yells, pushing the phone away from him, sobs flooding from his mouth. You take a step toward him but he angrily glares at you before bursting through the front door. Yena slumps defeatedly against the wall. 

You glance at the door still swinging shut. “Yena, what’s going on?” You inquire softly, terrified of the answer she’d give you.

She looks up, a pained expression taking the light away from her face. “Kenji’s parents are divorcing. His father isn’t going to be there when he gets back.” 

Her words coast around in your brain before you turn on your heel and bolt after Kenji. No, no, please no. The similarities between your past and this moment is laughable as you cut through the trees. Your eyes wildly search for little Kenji, anywhere, somewhere. Thunder claps above your head but you ignore it, traveling further into the woods. “Kenji!” You scream, rain spitting into your eyes. “Kenji please come back!” You yell, cupping your hands around your mouth. You feel empty, yet full of terror. The same way you felt back then when your mother kicked your dad out of your life. The man that would take care of you when your mother got too angry or too drunk. He was gone forever, your protector. Left you to be fed to the monsters your mother harbored. 

You split through a clearing, breathing heavily as the rain comes down with torrential intent. You feel like crying, screaming, throwing yourself off a cliff even, but you catch a glimpse of Kenji’s red shirt huddled up against the hallow of a tree. “Miss YN!” He cries, holding out his arms for you. “I’m scared.” You rush to his side, bringing him tightly to your chest. 

The both of you cling to each other under the cover of the tree, sobbing with the sky. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” You breathe, stroking his head. Kenji curls up in your arms, trembling with tiny hiccups. You knew these woods like the back of your hand, but as the rain blurs your vision the realization crashes over you. 

You had no idea where you were.

Sanemi watches the rain from his window, wondering what you were doing right now. He grunts as he slides off his bed, heading through the kitchen area to your door. He knocks lightly, aware that you might still be sleeping. “YN?” He calls out softly, but you don’t respond. He furrows his brows knocking harder. “YN?” His voice is firmer, but yet nothing comes from your room. He reached for the knob, twisting it open with ease. The door swings open revealing your empty room. He glances around, breathing in your scent and trying to push down the excitement of being in your personal space. He moves around your room, heading toward your outside door. He walks through it, feeling the cool breeze of the storm against his skin. 

Where were you? He spots a group of boys sitting outside their cabin. He jogs over to them through the rain, stopping under the cover of their deck. “What’cha up to?” Sanemi inquires, planning on asking them if they’d seen where you went. 

One of them looks at him. “Miss YN took Kenji and we’re waiting for him to come back because he wanted to play games with us.” He explains and Sanemi quirks a brow.

What was that about? “Do you know where?” Sanemi pushes. The same one that was talking to him shakes his head.

“They were headed toward the main office, but I’m not sure where exactly they were headed.” Sanemi thanks the group of boys before running toward the main office. When he swings open the door Yena is sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. She glances up when he walks further into the door. 

Her features soften, a worried expression crossing her face. “Oh Sanemi, thank goodness. I’m so worried.” She rises from her seat, crossing over the carpet to his side. 

A sense of dread hits the pit of his stomach like a weight of bricks. What was going on? Where were you? Why did Yena look so anxious? “What’s wrong?” Sanemi glances around the office, wishing that you’d pop out to surprise him. 

Yena places a hand on his shoulder, turning his attention back to her. “Kenji ran into the woods and YN followed him.” She explains. 

The feeling of concern amplifies as his blood cools. Not the woods again. “When?” He snaps, a strike of lightning illuminating the sky. Yena sighs, glancing at the clock on the wall. 

“About an hour ago,” She trails off, furrowing her brows together. “Sanemi, please, find them.” Without a second thought, he runs into the woods. A flash of when he was younger causes him to halt at the tree line. His heart is beating erratically in his chest as he stares through the trunks of thick forest. He’d been too scared to continue on back then, but you were probably frightened too. Who was he to love you if he couldn’t face your terror? It’s then that he lifts up his wrist to view the matching bracelet. He shakes off his nerves and starts jogging through the foliage.

The rain soaks through his shirt, slicking his hair to the side of his face. He had to find you. Just a week ago you nearly drowned on his watch because of a stupid bet and now you were lost in the woods during a strong storm. Were you trying to test his patience? No… you most likely ran after Kenji because of your inner child. Something wanted to heal that part of you. Being a child was difficult, especially when you were taught that emotions were wrong. 

Sanemi can remember the way your mother screamed as he pulled you angrily by your arm. Her grip left marks on you, red splotches of hatred spanning your tiny arm. She was cursing, screeching about how much of an embarrassment you were, if you loved your father so much then why didn’t you go find him? She was a pure blur of her past demons boiling up into one entity – against her own daughter. 

Now, he would plunge a sword through her heart and save you from the wild beast. Take you away somewhere safe. If only he’d understood more back then. It was all his fault. He had no right to have these feelings toward you when all he caused you was turmoil. Yet, he can’t help but see your smiling face, blushing cheeks, and sparkling eyes. The way you stop to smell the breeze of the lake. How joyful you are with the kids, genuinely caring for them. Your sassy remarks when he got too flirtatious with you. The way your lips felt against his in that blissful moment. He… truly loved you. Every ounce, curve, and flaw. “YN!” He screams, the beating of his heart echoing in his ears. 

Sanemi wants to tell you everything, instead of running to someone else. This was between you and him. He couldn’t last another second without telling you how much you meant to him. “YN! Where are you!?” He’s scanning the treeline, worry creasing his brows. 

You and Kenji still, then look at each other. “Is that Mister Sanemi?” He asks, eyes welling with tears again. You brush your thumb over his plump cheeks, soothing him.

It’s not helpful that your heart picks up its beating rate at the thought. Sanemi had come to find you – well you and Kenji. Regardless, you’re a little too happy about it. “Over here!” You scream, covering Kenji’s ears. 

Sanemi’s heart thumps against his ribcage as he hears you scream back for him. He glances around his surroundings, his eyes finally landing on a hint of red in the distance. “Hold on! I’m coming!” He charges toward the area your voice came from. 

He sees your face, a sloppy mess of tears and wet hair, and he wants to drop to his knees. “Thank goodness…” You whisper, letting Kenji run to hug Sanemi’s legs. His eyes are locked on your every movement, studying if you are okay. 

“We need to get you back, I don’t think you could’ve made it out of the forest.” Sanemi holds Kenji’s hand, waiting for you to start following him. Something holds you back though, a sinking feeling of guilt or shame – you weren’t sure which. 

You had cried and hidden away just like when you were younger. Sanemi didn’t come to save you… he came to prove a point. You were still just that little girl, running away from her problems. You’re silent the whole way back, emotions dancing with thoughts. Yena hugs you and then yells at you for running out without a map. Kenji is sent to get a check-up from Shinobu. Everything feels like it’s underwater, floating past you. Only when you’re in front of your cabin do you snap out of the daze, peering up at Sanemi. “You didn’t think I could make it out on my own…” You mutter. He turns to you, knitting his brows together. “I thought you were there to save me, but you were just there to prove that you could do it. It had nothing to do with me.” Your body feels frozen, numb even. 

Sanemi opens the door to his room. “That’s not it at all. Just give me a moment and we can talk about this later.” He replies, closing his door behind him. Later huh? You didn’t want later. Now was later. 

You rush to his door, swinging it open angrily. “No, you don’t get to walk away. We’re talking about this now.” You snap, taking in Sanemi without a shirt. Why did he always have no shirt on? You halt, mouth gaping. 

He sighs, tossing his wet shirt into his hamper. “Fine, you want to talk, let’s talk. It was careless of you to just run after Kenji like that.” He hisses, motioning to you. “Do you know how worried everyone was? I understand why you did it, but what if something had happened to the both of you? What then YN?” 

You march up to him, poking at his chest. “You don’t understand shit Sanemi! Kenji ran into the forest. What was I supposed to do? Stand there and wait for some big muscley man to go in and find him? I did what felt right and you cannot blame me for that!” Your voice is quaking, on the verge of tears. 

Sanemi scoffs, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m not blaming you! For fuck’s sake can you stop thinking that everyone is out to get you!? I am not your mother. I care about you and blame myself every fucking day for what happened back then.” Wow. Did he really just bring up your mother? A tormenting ache twists your gut, sucking up any energy you had left.

His nostrils are flaring and your body buzzes with a newfound heat. It’s anger, it’s sexual frustration, and its adrenaline all wrapped up into one. “Yeah well, you have a real funny way of showing how sorry you are. It’s so funny how you can kiss me one day and then act like nothing happened the next.” You laugh tightly and watch as his brows shoot up.

A sarcastic laugh bubbles out of his throat. “Unlike you, I don’t face everything head-on. I was terrified after I kissed you, because yes I kissed you. Do you have any idea how confusing it is to realize after all these years that I’m in love with you? Then to realize that I’ve fucked up so massively that there’s zero chance of anything ever happening?” He hisses, rolling his lips into a tight line after his confession. This wasn’t how he pictured telling you, but at least it was out there now for you to hear.

Your body tenses, staring at Sanemi with wild eyes. Love? He was in love with you? It was like a slap in the face and a warm blanket at the same time. “Then fucking change my mind,” You order. 

Sanemi’s eyes widen and his throat bobs with nerves. “Y’know I love it when you get bossy,” He whispers, grabbing your face with gentle vigor. The kiss starts off soft and genuine. Your hands travel into his soft hair, moaning lightly against his lips when his hands find their way to your ass. That’s when something animalistic awakens in the both of you. Sanemi spins you around and walks you back against the wall, pressing his knee between your legs. You groan through your mouth at the lovely pressure. 

His lips work against yours, deepening the kiss into something feral and needy. “God, I want you.” You huff out between a break. You feel a cocky smirk on your neck where Sanemi nips at the junction of your shoulder. All those times you imagined the quick peck between you both was nothing compared to this. Kissing Sanemi was like pouring hot magma onto a frozen lake. Your body was alive with pinpricks of electricity. 

You peer down, shakily watching him explore the planes of your body. This was all too much. He was someone you cherished, someone you hated… someone you – was it possible for you to even love someone? You care deeply for your friends, the kids, and this camp… but love? It's something so deep, so pure that it transcends everything. Did you love Sanemi Shinazugawa or were you crushing on him? The line was thin, but at the same time a cavern impossible to jump over. “Hey hey hey, where did you drift off to?” His voice breaks you out of the daze you were in. Your eyes blink up to meet his, soft and beautiful.

His warm hand reaches up to cup your cheek. “Do you need me to stop? I got caught up in my own selfish desires…” He trails off, looking away bashfully. Huh? Was this gruff man actually…adorable? 

Leaning into his hand you shake your head. “I was just thinking about insecurities,” You laugh, meeting his gaze. Sanemi’s face softens and for once you wish your home life had been different. There were times you were grateful that what happened to you made you stronger, more resilient to people’s bullshit. Spinning it into a postive made you think less about the trauma. Now… you want to be something soft Sanemi can mold with his love. You yearn to fall into his blanketed warmth where somehow you’d be safe. “But I’m better now.” You finish, realizing all at once that it didn’t matter if you loved him, because you could love him. Love was something you were able to feel, eventually, that is. He could teach you. “Sanemi, I really like you… do you think – do you think we could continue kissing?”

An airy laugh blows through his nose as he guides you into a sitting positon on his bed. “M’course, just let me know if you want to stop.” His eyes light up micheviously, bending down to peck your lips teasingly. He sinks to his knees, sliding his hands down your outter thighs. 

Sanemi was never someone you thought would stun you into silence, but as his gaze drops to the apex of your legs it suddenly becomes hard to speak. “What? Got no smart ass response?” He glances smugly up at you, rolling his tongue over his lips. Instead of replying you spread your legs apart for him. Your action brings his longing attention back to your clothed pussy, which clamps on nothing. “Mmm, I guess your body can do enough speaking,” He hooks a finger into your shorts, pulling them down your waist. “S’pretty.” He hisses, reveling in the way your panties cling to the dampness of your cunt. “All mine,” He’s muttering to himself like a mad man and maybe he was, but it brings a flush to your cheeks. 

You squirm to fling your short to the side of his room, wiggling out of your underwear next. He watches like he’ll die if he looks away. “Sanemi I can’t hold back, please, I need you to do something.” You give him enough room to stay between your legs. His smirk worries you only slightly.

He stands, the girth of his cock outlined in his pants. “Just remember you asked for this. We’ll have plenty of time to take it slow later, but right now I can’t wait anymore either.” His eyes are a dark brooding purple as he slips the belt out of its loops smoothly. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed. Your childhood friend was about to fuck your brains out and the fact that you’d been fighting only made the tension in the room that much thicker. 

Sanemi’s cock is longer than anyone you’d been with before and you can’t seem to look away from it. How the head weeps and is blush pink with untouched desire. He’s barely holding on, but the weight of reality slaps you across the face. “Do you have a condom?” You quip and he freezes. His cheeks blush as he glances at his nightstand. 

“Can’t think why I wouldn’t pack condoms coming to a job where I’ve never had sex before…fuck. I can stop if you want to, I wouldn’t dare-”

“Sanemi, I could care less. Right now all I want is you. We’ll figure it out together.” You grab the back of his neck to bring him in for a kiss. As his lips work against yours he lines himself up at your entrance, brushing the head of his cock against the slick of your arousal. He hisses into your mouth as the tip slips into your warmth. A shaky moan echoes through both of you as you push your foreheads together to watch his cock slide into your pretty pussy. 

You blow out a breath, throwing your head back in utter bliss. Sanemi fills you out beautifully, stretching your walls just enough to send shivers up your spine. “You feel perfect…you’re perfect,” Sanemi kisses you, slowly starting to move his hips. The muscles in your stomach tense with a hot iron of pressure. 

“Haa, Sanemi, please,” You begin but he snaps his hips into yours. A loud slap of skin rattles through his room. Your eyes go wide and a sharp gasp pushes through your body. 

He grins over you, sliding back on his knees and bringing you with him. “Mmm, shh babygirl, m’gonna take care of you.” He strings your legs over his hips, rocking you on his cock. 

Moans burst from your mouth as you cling to his neck. “F’ Sanemi,” You gasp, his cock plunging deeper into your pussy than the previous postion. 

“That’s it, let go pretty girl,” Sanemi burrows into you, a fucked out grin coating his lips. You feel like you’re almost split in two, but the sting bleeds into a sharp pleasurable throb. It radiates through your core, spreading tingles across your skin. Your head lolls to the side a bolt of electricity twisting around your stomach, coating it in the crashing waves of your climax. You’re both panting as Sanemi fucks into you, gripping your hips onto him. 

The overstimulation makes you squirm on top of him, but he chaces his own crest, finally finding it when you grip the back of his head, fisting his hair. Warm cum coats your insides, Sanemi gently laying you back down on the mattress. You feel gooey inside, but there’s a silent happiness that brings a smile to your face. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I promise next time I’ll last longer- I, I…shit let me go get you a rag.” Sanemi pushes himself up on his elbows but you caress his cheek, calming the anxious glaze in his eyes. 

“No, stay.” He’d finally found you… and you weren’t about to let him out of your sight for a long long time.  

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | pregnancy special

you and Yoongi try to get pregnant, but it doesn’t go as planned, as the road isn’t easy. But he’s your rock, and he’ll stand with you through thick and thin 💜

→ Pairing: mechanic!Yoongi x reader (female) → AUs: established relationship, mechanic!Yoongi, married!au, pregnancy!au → Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 7.5k → Warnings (general) + triggers: mentions of blood because of SPOILER a miscarriage (there’s blood but know more detail than that), angst, anxiety/fear for the future and for a miscarriage again, pregnancy, raging hormones, drinking sorrows away, getting angry without course, yelling without course, OC is being rather destructive in this one but Yoongi is very sweet, understanding and supportive 👏 → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex (is this really a surprise? But please don’t be stupid irl, though they aren’t stupid here ‘cuz they’re actively trying for a baby); oral (female and male receiving), doggystyle over a table 😝, spanks, creampie, cockwarming, kisses (yes that is a warning because it’s sugary sweet 😘), multiple orgasms → Author’s note: hiya all you lovely people! I’m back at it again with another extra for friendcation and let me tell you, even though this is very angsty, I loved writing it a lot. I drew from my own experience (miscarriages), but I didn’t want to go into too much detail, so it’s very light. But it does affect OC and her mood, like she almost gets depressed over it 😢 But Yoongi is there to pick her up and support her, so don’t worry! It’s a sweet one, and of course it has a happy ending, because you know what’s gonna happen in the winter special that I wrote a long time ago! I hope you love it as much as I did! This one was honestly so fast for me to write, like a few hours! It’s so much easier for me when I write from my own personal experience. And if you’ve ever had a miscarriage, I want to give you a hug, and please know that you’re not alone, okay? 🫂 (author’s note2: I wrote this story in the beginning of August 2024) → Read on AO3? [link] ✨

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“There are two lines!” you cry out, bursting into the living room with a pregnancy test clutched in your trembling hand. You twirl it in the air like a magic wand, watching the realization spread across your husband’s face, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of joy and wonder. He moves toward you, a smile breaking across his lips, and in one swift motion, he wraps you in his arms, pulling you close as he plants a tender kiss on your cheek.

“Are you really pregnant?” he murmurs, his voice soft yet trembling with excitement and a touch of fear. You hear the uncertainty beneath his joy, the way hope and anxiety dance together in his words. You’ve both dreamed of this moment, talked about it late into the night, imagining the tiny life you would create together. Ever since your honeymoon, where every whispered wish was laced with the hope of creating a new life, this has been your shared dream. And now, it’s real. The weight of it hits you all at once, and tears well up in your eyes, spilling over as the emotions of the moment overwhelm you.

He kisses you again, this time with more intensity. “I can’t wait to have a baby with you,” he whispers against your skin.

Neither can you. The joy is too immense to contain, so you schedule a doctor’s appointment, needing to hear it confirmed, to know for certain that your dream is taking root inside you. Yoongi is right there beside you, holding your hand as the doctor measures your HCG levels via a blood test and tells you the news you’ve been waiting for—you’re pregnant, and not just newly so. Eight weeks have already passed, and suddenly, the idea of this tiny life feels even more real.

Giddy with excitement, the two of you start to dream out loud, envisioning a life that needs more space to grow. The apartment where you built your love, small and cozy as it is, now feels too cramped for the family you want to become. You’ve always talked about raising your children just outside the city, where the air is cleaner, and the pace of life slower, where a bigger house awaits with room enough for your growing dreams. Yoongi smiles at the thought of a garage, where he can create and tinker, a space of his own.

You start house hunting in the suburbs surrounding Seoul, imagining nurseries painted in soft pastels, browsing baby clothes with tiny sleeves, and laughing over the choices. Each step feels like a dream in the making, a life slowly unfolding before you, full of promise and possibility.

But today has been long, and your body is weary. The excitement has worn you down, and as you return home, you kick off your shoes with a sigh, feeling the ache in your swollen feet. You glance around, hoping to hear the familiar sounds of your husband’s return, but the apartment is quiet. You open the fridge and pull out a cold bottle of water, hoping it will soothe your frayed nerves. The stress of your marketing job clings to you like a shadow, and all you want is a moment to unwind, to let go of the day’s tension.

As you set the bottle down on the counter, a sudden, sharp pain radiates through your stomach. Your hand instinctively flies to your belly, and you double over, gasping as the pain intensifies. It’s not normal, you think, panic rising in your chest. Something is wrong.

When you look down at the floor, a wave of horror crashes over you. 

Blood. 

Dark, vivid, and far too much of it. It’s pooling beneath you, seeping through your clothes, and it’s only then that you fully realize how soaked you are. 

Terror grips you, squeezing your chest, making it hard to breathe. Tears well up in your eyes, your breath comes in ragged gasps as panic begins to set in. This can’t be happening—this much blood, it’s not normal, not now, not when you’re carrying life inside you. A flood of thoughts races through your mind: is the baby inside you still safe? Or is this the cruel end to a dream that had only just begun? 

You need Yoongi—his steady presence, his strong arms, his comforting words—but he’s not here.

With trembling hands, you fumble for your phone, digging it out of your skirt pocket, and desperately pull up your husband’s contact. The phone barely rings before the door to your apartment creaks open, and there he is, stepping inside. Relief mixes with fear as he rushes to you, his eyes widening in shock as he takes in the scene—the blood, your trembling form, the tears streaming down your face.

Without a word, he’s at your side, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. His fingers, rough from years of work, trace gentle, soothing circles on your back, trying to calm the storm inside you.

“What happened?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady, but you can hear the tremor beneath his words, the fear that he’s trying so hard to mask. His breath comes quicker, and though he tries to be strong for you, you can see the terror in his eyes, mirroring your own.

“Out of nowhere, the pain started,” you sob, clutching at your stomach, “and then the bleeding... so much blood.” Your voice breaks as the pain flares again, sharp and unforgiving.

Yoongi pulls you to your feet, his grip firm but tender, “We need to get you to the doctor’s. Now.” His words are clipped, urgent, but his touch is all comfort as he guides you out of the apartment, into the elevator, and finally into the car. The drive is shrouded in a thick, suffocating silence, broken only by your muffled sobs. The fear that’s lodged in your throat is too heavy to put into words, and deep down, you’re terrified of what you might say if you tried.

At the doctor’s office, the cold gel on your stomach is a jarring contrast to the heat of your fear. The ultrasound screen flickers to life, and there it is—a heartbeat, strong and steady. Relief washes over you like a cool breeze, but it’s tinged with uncertainty. You dare not hope too much, not yet.

Yoongi’s voice cuts through the silence, steady but laced with anxiety, “Why is she bleeding so much?” His eyes search the doctor’s face for reassurance, for something solid to hold onto.

The doctor hesitates, their gaze softening as they meet your wide, tear-streaked eyes. “It’s not uncommon to bleed in the early stages of pregnancy,” they explain gently. “Everything could be okay, but…” they pause, and the weight of that single word hangs heavy in the air, “it might be a miscarriage in progress. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do except wait and see what happens.” The apology in their voice is almost unbearable, as if they’re sorry for delivering such uncertain news.

And so you wait, the days stretching out like an endless horizon. The bleeding continues, each drop a reminder of the life that hangs in the balance. Yoongi never leaves your side, holding you close through the long, silent nights. You curl into a ball on the bed, grief pulling you into its dark embrace, and you weep for what you fear you’ve lost, though no one has told you for certain. You cry yourself to sleep most nights, haunted by the thought that the heartbeat you saw was the last flicker of hope, slowly fading away.

You feel like a hollow shell, a prisoner within your own skin, drifting through the motions of life, performing tasks you know you should care about but no longer do. The days blur together in a monotony of routines—going to work, waking up, all the things that once held meaning now feel like burdens. The joy that once colored your world has faded to gray. Yet, Yoongi remains by your side, unwavering in his support, whispering words of comfort, promising that everything will be okay. But when the doctor confirms your worst fears, telling you that the life you carried is no longer, you don’t even cry.

It’s as if your tears have run dry, drained by days of sorrow, leaving you numb and empty. Yoongi pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly, trying to shield you from the storm that rages inside. You feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, and you cling to it like a lifeline.

Back home, you slip off your shoes and head straight for the alcohol cabinet. The house is quiet, the air heavy with the weight of your grief. You reach for a bottle of red wine, the one you’ve been saving for a special occasion. With a shaky hand, you uncork it and pour the crimson liquid into a glass, filling it almost to the brim. You glance at your husband, managing a weak smile. “Do you want one?”

“It’s the middle of the day on a Saturday,” he says softly, concern lacing his voice. But you just shrug, raising the glass to your lips as if it could wash away the pain. “But I don’t mind drinking with you,” he adds, grabbing a glass for himself and pouring some wine. After all, it’s five o’clock somewhere, right?

He settles beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around you, and you lean into him, seeking the comfort of his warmth. The past few days have been a blur of tears and aching silence, and as you take a sip of the wine, the familiar burn in your throat offers a momentary escape. You know it’s not a solution, but today, you allow yourself this indulgence. Tomorrow will be different, you tell yourself. Tomorrow is a new day.

Yoongi doesn’t say much; he simply kisses the top of your head, holding you close as you both drink in the quiet of the day. There’s a solace in his presence, in the way his arms encircle you, making you feel safe even as the world crumbles around you. The wine, the warmth of his body, the soft hum of his voice as he sings you a lullaby—it’s all a balm to your wounded soul.

Before long, sleep overtakes you, and you drift off with your head resting on his lap, his fingers gently combing through your hair. When you wake, your head throbs with a dull ache, and your eyes feel dry and gritty. You rub them, groaning softly as you stretch. Yoongi isn’t beside you, but on the table, you find a glass of water and a couple of painkillers waiting for you. The small gesture makes your heart swell with love.

As you swallow the pills, Yoongi emerges from the bathroom, a towel slung low around his hips, droplets of water clinging to his skin. His voice, still thick with sleep, wraps around you like a warm blanket. “How are you feeling, babe?”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I have a slight headache, but I’m okay,” you reply, pouting playfully as you try to tame your unruly hair. “Thank you for indulging me,” you add, feeling a surge of gratitude for the way he understands you, even in your darkest moments.

He crosses the room, sitting beside you on the couch, his presence a steady anchor in the turbulent sea of your emotions. “I’ll always be by your side, babe, you know that,” he says, his voice soft but filled with unwavering conviction.

You nod, your heart swelling with a love so deep it almost hurts. Because you do know. And you love him all the more for it.

He disappears into the bedroom to get dressed, and when he returns, he sits beside you again, his hand finding yours, his touch grounding you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitate, fidgeting with your fingers, feeling the weight of the words that hover on your lips. But you know that talking might help, that sharing the burden might make it easier to bear. So you take a deep breath and let the words spill out.

“I want to try to get pregnant again,” you confess, the hurt still fresh, but beneath it, a flicker of hope. Despite the pain, despite everything, you still want that baby. You still believe in the dream that once filled you with so much joy.

Yoongi looks at you, his eyes soft with understanding. He nods, his grip on your hand tightening just a little. “Okay,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “Let’s try again then.”

And in that moment, you know that no matter what comes next, you won’t be facing it alone.

And so you try, again and again, in every possible way, in so many positions that it borders on the absurd. The weeks blur into months, yet each time you face the stark emptiness of a negative pregnancy test, hope crumbles a little more. You feel bombed, discouraged, like a balloon slowly deflating, the air of optimism leaking out with each failed attempt. You never imagined it would be this hard to conceive, and the disappointment weighs heavy on your heart.

Doubt creeps in like a shadow, wrapping its cold fingers around your thoughts. You begin to wonder if there’s something wrong with your body, some hidden flaw that’s keeping you from the one thing you want most. Why isn’t it happening? And yet, beneath the yearning, there’s a trembling fear—fear of what will happen when you finally see those two lines again. Fear of reliving the pain of another loss.

“Maybe we should see a doctor,” Yoongi suggests one quiet afternoon as you both pick at your food, the silence between you thick with unspoken worries. “Maybe I should get my sperm checked,” he muses, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and determination.

You nod, though deep down you doubt that he’s the problem. It feels like the fault lies with you, that your body is betraying you. Isn’t there something about a woman’s fertility dipping after thirty? You vaguely recall reading that somewhere, and it haunts you now. But Yoongi’s right—there’s no harm in getting checked. Perhaps it will give you some answers, or at least a direction.

A few days later, you walk into your doctor’s office with leaden feet and little hope, convinced that age has already set its limits on your dreams. The tests are done, the waiting begins, and you brace yourself for the worst. But when the results come back, they reveal that everything is fine—your fertility is normal, Yoongi’s sperm is in excellent shape. So why isn’t it happening? The question echoes in your mind, relentless and cruel.

Frustration gnaws at you, its claws sinking deeper with each passing day. You find yourself snapping at your colleagues, the tension spilling over in ways you can’t control. Apologies tumble from your lips almost as often as the sharp words that precede them. At home, you manage to hold your temper, but you fear it’s only a matter of time before even Yoongi becomes a target, despite his unwavering support.

Making love, once a source of joy and connection, now feels hollow, reduced to a mechanical routine. The passion that once ignited between you has dimmed, replaced by a clinical determination to conceive. You know Yoongi feels it too; he’s always been attuned to your moods.

“I’m not fucking you when you’re not in the mood,” he says one night, his voice low but firm.

You scoff, anger flaring as you rise from the bed. “Just fuck me so I can get pregnant.”

“No,” he replies, his tone unyielding. “Not when your heart’s not in it.”

With that, he stands up, naked and resolute, pulling his clothes back on as you lie there, seething and tearful, frustration coursing through you like a fever. The anger isn’t just at him; it’s at yourself, at your body, at the unfairness of it all. You hear him in the kitchen, the clatter of dishes a stark contrast to the silence that fills the bedroom. You pull yourself together, dressing slowly, avoiding the mirror because you know you won’t like what you see—a woman who feels trapped in a body that won’t cooperate, stuck between desire and despair.

But Yoongi isn’t wrong. Pushing yourself when your heart isn’t in it won’t help, you know that. You just can’t help the desperation that drives you to this point. Taking a deep breath, you step out of the bedroom and find him in the kitchen. Without a word, you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice thick with regret. “I’ll do better.”

He hugs you back, strong and warm, and in that embrace, you find a flicker of comfort. You kiss, a promise unspoken between you, and you feel a surge of gratitude for the man who stands beside you through all the heartbreak and frustration. Whatever comes next, you know you’re in this together.

You immerse yourself in research, scouring every corner of the internet for vitamins, supplements, and rituals that might tip the odds in your favor. Each new discovery feels like a lifeline, something to cling to in the relentless tide of hope and disappointment. But one day, after yet another fruitless search, you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you—a weariness that reaches deep into your bones. You close your laptop with a heavy sigh and turn to Yoongi, the words slipping from your lips before you can second-guess them. 

“I don’t think I want to have kids anymore,” you say, your voice eerily calm, as if stating a simple fact. But inside, you feel as cold and distant as the words sound. Yoongi’s head snaps toward you so quickly that you can almost hear the air shift. His eyes search your face, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in your resolve.

“We can just keep trying,” he replies, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of desperation, as though he’s pleading with you—because he is. You know how deeply he longs for babies, for a family built on the love you share.

But the weight of it all crushes you, and the tears you’ve held back for so long finally threaten to spill over. “I don’t think I can,” you whisper, your voice breaking as a sob catches in your throat. The exhaustion, the fear, the endless cycle of hope and heartbreak—it’s too much.

Yoongi pulls you into his arms, his embrace warm and reassuring. He pats your back, murmuring that it’s okay, that everything will be fine, even as he holds you a little tighter, as if trying to shield you from the pain. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and you see the sincerity in them—the way he’s willing to let go of his own dreams for your sake. 

“We don’t have to have kids if you don’t want to anymore,” he says, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering, making sure you know he means it. It’s not just a comfort; it’s a promise.

You swallow hard, the enormity of the decision weighing on you. Could you keep trying? Maybe. But fear coils around your heart, tightening with each passing thought. The future feels uncertain, and that terrifies you.

“Maybe,” you begin, searching for the right words, “we could still try, but not focus on it so much. I don’t think it’s healthy for me to be this obsessed.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips as relief softens his features. “Maybe we should rekindle our love,” he suggests gently. “Sex shouldn’t feel like a chore, and I hate that it does for you,” he adds, a pout forming on his lips as he looks at you with concern. “How can I make it better for you?”

You take a moment to ponder his question, reflecting on the love you share, the bond that has always been strong, even in the face of adversity. You realize that it’s not about what’s missing, but about what’s been neglected—the time, the attention, the simple joys of being together. Your hectic schedules have stolen moments that should have been yours, and now you feel the distance.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” you ask, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

His chuckle is like music, sweet and comforting, warming you from the inside out. “Always,” he replies, intertwining his fingers with yours, his touch a silent vow of affection.

In the weeks that follow, you carve out more time for each other, stepping back from the rush of work to simply be together. You surprise him at his garage, sharing takeout in his cluttered office, laughing over greasy fries and soda. You catch late-night movies, stroll through the mall hand-in-hand, visit little cafes tucked away in the corners of the city. You do all the things you’ve missed, the simple, everyday joys that once made your love effortless, and already you feel lighter, happier.

Amidst this rekindling of your love, you stumble upon the perfect house just outside of Seoul. It’s spacious, with a large living room that echoes with the laughter of future children you haven’t given up on just yet. The garden sprawls wide, with enough space for dreams to grow, and the garage—oh, the garage is exactly what Yoongi has always wanted, a place to tinker and create. When you step inside for the first time, you feel it in your bones—this is home. It speaks to you, calls to something deep within you, and you see the same recognition in Yoongi’s eyes. 

The decision to buy the house is easy, almost instinctual, as if you’ve always known this was where you were meant to be. You celebrate with friends, toasting to the new chapter that’s about to begin, and their joy mirrors your own. The move won’t happen until summer, giving you a few precious months to pack up your life and prepare for the future. And for the first time in a long while, that future doesn’t feel so daunting—it feels full of possibilities.

It’s March, and winter still clings to the world with frosty fingers, the cold seeping through the cracks of the early morning. Yoongi holds you extra close as you stroll along the river, the chill in the air making you grateful for the wool scarf he wrapped around your neck with such tender care. Your hand finds refuge in the deep pocket of his coat, where your fingers intertwine, sharing warmth with each squeeze and caress. 

As you walk, you take in the quiet beauty of the morning. Couples sit huddled on benches, whispering secrets, some stealing kisses as if the cold gives them courage. Children chase each other across the dewy grass, their laughter like wind chimes in the crisp air. You savor these moments, these tranquil walks before the world wakes up fully and the weather softens into spring.

Yoongi tugs you toward a small coffee shop nestled by the river, and soon you’re cradling steaming cups of hot cocoa. The rich scent of chocolate wraps around you like a comforting blanket as you settle into a cozy corner. Across the table, Yoongi’s fingers dance playfully over yours, each brush sending electric jolts through your body. His touch warms you from the inside out, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, though you try to hide it.

Suddenly, he chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’ve got something on your face,” he teases, pointing at your mouth.

You fumble to wipe it away, but before you can, Yoongi leans over the table, closing the distance between you. His lips capture yours in a soft kiss, his tongue slipping out to clean the smudge of cocoa from your mouth. The simple act is intimate, thrilling, and utterly unexpected.

“Yoongi, we’re in public,” you stammer, your voice a mix of scolding and breathless surprise. The audacity of his gesture stirs a warmth between your legs, a desire that flickers to life like a spark catching flame.

“When has that ever bothered me?” he retorts with a mischievous grin, his boldness both shocking and endearing.

You stare at him, baffled by his audacity, but also deeply drawn to it. With a playful smile, you grab his hand, pulling him up from his chair. “Let’s get home before you get us kicked out.”

Laughter bubbles between you as you walk hand in hand, the cold forgotten in the heat of the moment. By the time you step into the elevator, the tension has built to a fever pitch, and you find yourself unable to wait any longer. You pounce on him, surprising Yoongi with the fiery need in your kiss, your lips capturing his in a fierce embrace.

“I want you, Yoon,” you whisper breathlessly, your lips brushing against his ear as you tighten your arms around his neck. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

His giggle is low and throaty, the sound reverberating through you as his back meets the steel of the elevator wall. “Hmmm, you’d like that, huh?”

“Yes,” you pant, your breath hot against his skin. You lick your lips, eyes dark with desire. “You can decide how you want it. My birthday present to you.”

He chuckles, kissing you softly, tenderly, as he murmurs, “But you already gave me a scotch, a new toolbox, and a house,” a kiss for each gift, each one lingering longer than the last. “You don’t need to give me more.”

“And sex shouldn’t really be a gift,” he adds, his lips quirking into a smile, but you nod, already knowing this. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I want you inside me,” you counter with a wink, giving your own ass a playful slap. 

A low grunt escapes him, arousal thickening his voice as he grabs you, pinning you against the wall, his lips tracing a searing path down your neck. You moan softly, your body arching toward him, your pussy throbbing with need.

When the elevator doors slide open, he pulls you out, his grip firm as he leads you to your apartment door. He fumbles briefly with the key, urgency in every motion, and the moment the door clicks shut behind you, the world outside ceases to exist.

Shoes are discarded in a hurry, and in the blink of an eye, Yoongi has you in the kitchen, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter. He spreads your legs, his eyes dark and hungry as he takes in the sight of you. Already, you’re so wet, aching for him, and you can see the primal desire mirrored in his gaze. 

He kneels before you, lifting the hem of your dress with a mischievous glint in his eye. “There’s a wet patch on your panties, babe,” he murmurs, a chuckle rumbling from his chest as his gaze darkens with desire.

“Well, I want you badly,” you breathe, your legs parting in invitation, your body aching for his touch.

Without hesitation, he hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric of your panties and slides them down your legs, letting them pool on the floor. His lips find your slick pussy, his tongue a sinful instrument of pleasure as it dances over your folds. He laps at you with fervor, his nose grazing your sensitive clit as his tongue delves deeper, exploring every inch of you. You moan, the sound almost foreign to your own ears, lost as you are in the ecstasy he’s drawing from you. It doesn’t take long before you’re unraveling, your release shuddering through you as you come apart on his tongue.

He pulls back, his lips glistening with your essence, and he licks them slowly, savoring the taste of you. “You’re so hot,” he breathes, his voice thick with need.

You hum in response, wanting to tell him how irresistible he is, but before you can, he’s grabbing your hips, pulling you down from the counter and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. “I want to fuck you so bad,” he growls against your mouth, his fingers digging into your flesh possessively. “I want to fill you up, to lose myself in your pussy.”

When you pull away, his eyes are wild, pupils blown wide with lust. “I want to take care of you first,” you whisper, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I want to suck you off.”

“You don’t have to. I just need to be inside you,” he argues, his hands already unzipping his pants, freeing his hard, aching cock.

“No,” you insist, your voice soft but firm. “It’s your birthday, and I want to give you everything you desire.” You help him discard his pants and boxers, and as soon as he’s free of the fabric, you wrap your hand around his dick, feeling him twitch in your grasp. He groans, a needy sound that makes your own desire flare even hotter.

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” you say, your voice sultry and full of intent. You drop to your knees before him, looking up with wide, pleading eyes. “Please.”

He hesitates, but only for a moment. You always have this power over him, making him bend to your will with just a word, a look. So when you take him into your warm, wet mouth, he sees stars. You hold his gaze, your eyes locked on his as you slowly, sensually, begin to pleasure him. He thinks you look like a vixen, so full of confidence and allure, and sometimes he can’t quite believe that you’re his, that you belong to him in every way.

For a while, he lets you lead, your lips and tongue working him over with skillful precision. But soon, his need for control takes over, his hands tangling in your hair as he starts to guide your movements, thrusting gently at first, then deeper, harder. He knows you can take it, even when your eyes flutter closed and your breath hitches. He knows you love it as much as he does. The sounds you make, the soft, wet noises of your mouth on him, fill the kitchen, and he moans your name, the pleasure almost overwhelming.

He can feel himself getting close, that familiar tightening in his core, and it takes everything in him to pull back, to stop before he loses himself entirely. When he does, a string of saliva still connects you, a testament to the raw, unfiltered passion between you.

“Was it too much?” he asks, his voice rough with desire, his thumb brushing against your flushed cheek.

You shake your head, wiping the drool from your lips. “No,” you assure him, your voice breathless but steady. “If it was, I would have said something.”

“Good,” he rasps, pulling you to your feet, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. “Because now I need to fuck you. On the table.”

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, a playful glint in your gaze. “The dining table?”

He grins, wicked and full of promise. “Yes, the dining table.”

He nods, and you do as he says, feeling his presence close behind you, a silent promise of what’s to come. The air thickens with anticipation as you remain in your dress, a symbol of your desire lingering between the layers of fabric. When he turns you around to face the table and gently presses you down onto its cool surface, you know exactly what he wants, and the thought alone sends a shiver down your spine. God, you love it when he takes you from behind.

He hikes up your dress, exposing you to the cool air, and his hands find your ass, groping and squeezing with a possessive reverence. “So pretty,” he murmurs, voice low and rough with need.

You feel the heat of his cock teasing against your entrance, the anticipation almost unbearable. His hands spread your cheeks, and then you feel the head of his cock pressing into your slick pussy. Slowly, he pushes in, the stretch more intense in this position, but you welcome it, your body humming with pleasure as he fills you completely.

He grunts, a deep, primal sound that reverberates through you as he bottoms out, his cock buried to the hilt inside you. “Yoongi—please, move,” you pant, your hands gripping the edge of the table, seeking leverage as he begins to thrust into you.

“Fuck,” you moan, your voice breaking as he picks up the pace, his hips slamming into yours with a rhythm that feels both punishing and divine.

His hands roam over your backside, caressing, gripping, pulling you closer with every thrust. “Ah, fuck. You always feel so fucking good around me,” he groans, his voice dripping with raw desire as he speaks your name.

“I love having your cock in me. Fuck me faster, please,” you plead, your voice breathless, every nerve in your body alight with want.

The table shifts beneath you, scraping against the floor with each thrust, but the sound is lost in the symphony of your pleasure. Soon, this place won’t be yours to worry about, but right now, it’s all that grounds you as he drives into you, hitting that perfect spot inside that makes your vision blur with bliss.

“Fuck! Right there!” you scream, your mind emptying of everything but him, your husband, the man you love so fiercely.

“So fucking tight,” he moans, his fingers digging into your hips with a grip that promises to leave marks, tangible reminders of this moment.

“Yoon—, I’m gonna come,” you gasp, your breath ragged, sweat beading on your forehead as the heat between you builds to a crescendo.

He rams into you harder, just like you wanted, and you shatter around him, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your vision goes white, stars bursting behind your eyelids as your body sags against the table, barely able to support itself.

“Fuck,” he curses, and then his hand comes down on your ass, the sharp sound of the slap echoing in the room. You clench around him reflexively, another wave of pleasure crashing over you.

“Fuck,” he curses again, another slap, another burst of sensation, and you cry out, your body quivering under his relentless assault.

“Yoongi!” you scream, teetering on the edge of another climax, “I think—”

But the words are stolen from you as he continues to pound into you, the force of his thrusts driving the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping, lost in a sea of sensation.

“Fucking shit. I’m so close,” he pants, his hand soothing over your ass before delivering another stinging slap, and your second orgasm melds into a third, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. You cry out in pleasure, your voice raw as your world narrows to the feel of him inside you, the only anchor in the storm of your release.

His thrusts grow erratic, less controlled, until finally, he stills, his cock buried deep as he spills into you, the warmth of his release filling you up. A sigh escapes your lips, your body utterly spent, your mind adrift in the aftermath.

He collapses over you, his weight a comforting pressure as he keeps himself inside you, his hands caressing your body with gentle affection. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers against your ear, pressing soft kisses to your skin. “I love you so much.”

You chuckle softly, the warmth of your love for him blooming in your chest. “You aren’t too bad yourself,” you tease, feeling his softened cock slide out of you as you turn to face him. “And I love you so much too.”

He smiles, tender and full of adoration, before capturing your lips in a kiss that speaks of gratitude and deep, unwavering love. “Thank you for this lovely birthday,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips.

You smile back, letting him take your hand and lead you to the bathroom, where he gently cleans you up, his touch as tender as his heart. Later, you fall asleep nestled in his arms, the world outside forgotten, lost in the cocoon of your shared warmth.

You stare at the test in your trembling hands, the seconds ticking away with agonizing slowness. Three minutes—those eternal, cursed minutes—dragging you back to that moment in the forest when the thought of pregnancy filled you with dread. But now, everything is different. Now you want it, crave it with every fiber of your being, yet fear still lingers like a shadow in your heart, whispering what-ifs.

Your phone vibrates, breaking the silence, signaling that the time is up. You take a deep breath, steel yourself, and then you look. 

Two lines. 

Your heart skips a beat, and you blink, hardly believing it. 

Two lines.

You rush to show Yoongi, his eyes lighting up with pure joy as he sees the result. He’s elated, grinning like a child, and his happiness is contagious. You’re happy too, truly, but beneath the surface, that familiar fear curls, a silent specter reminding you of the past, of the heartbreak you’ve been through before. What if it happens again?

But the weeks pass, and you pack your life into boxes, preparing for the move as summer blooms. Now, four months pregnant, you find yourself with Yoongi wrapped around your little finger. He’s doting, tender, doing everything for you as if you were made of glass—cooking your meals, helping you dress, even braiding your hair with surprising care. He indulges your every craving, runs to the store for cake and candy at odd hours, holds your hair when the nausea takes over. His protectiveness borders on overbearing, but you can’t bring yourself to mind. It’s endearing, really, and you feel a warmth in your chest that’s as sweet as the candy he brings you.

On moving day, Yoongi insists you don’t lift a finger, so you supervise, directing your friends on where to place each box in your new home. It still feels surreal—this beautiful house is yours, truly yours. You rest your hand on your growing belly, not yet feeling the strong kicks you’re longing for, though you’ve sensed some faint fluttering. Perhaps it’s just gas, but still, the anticipation is almost unbearable.

After a day of grocery shopping, stocking the fridge and freezer with essentials, you find yourself craving ice cream late at night—the one with Oreo bits swirled through it. The craving grips you suddenly, fiercely, and you know there’s no ignoring it. You need that ice cream.

“Yoongi?” you call out, drawing his name in that sweet, almost sing-song voice he knows all too well.

He chuckles, already predicting your request from the way you’ve drawn out his name. Your cravings have become a nightly ritual, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he loves it—loves you more than words can express.

“Yeah?” he answers, laughter in his voice, as you hesitate, almost shy to ask for something else after all the shopping you did today.

“I’m craving ice cream…” you murmur, unsure how he’ll react, knowing full well you’d already stocked the freezer just hours ago.

He sighs, but it’s a soft, amused sound. “The one with Oreo bits, right?”

Your eyes fill with love and gratitude, tears pricking at the corners. “Thank you!” you whisper, your heart swelling as he’s already up, grabbing his keys without a second thought.

You watch him go, overwhelmed with love for this man who would move mountains just to see you smile. When he returns, ice cream in hand, you greet him with a kiss, diving into the tub with abandon. Fifteen minutes later, the tub is empty, and you glance at him with a sheepish smile, wondering if he’ll have to make another trip. That’s when he decides to always buy extra, stashing it away in the freezer, ready for your next craving.

He’s your snack patrol, your guardian of midnight desires, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy, to keep that radiant smile on your face. After all, you’re carrying his tiny miracle inside you, and for him, indulging your every whim is the least he can do.

One evening, you stumble through the door after a long, grueling day at work, exhaustion clinging to you like a heavy shroud. All you want is to collapse into the soft embrace of your bed, to let the day melt away into dreams. But hunger gnaws at you, demanding attention, so you drag yourself to the kitchen, hoping to find Yoongi bustling around, preparing dinner as usual. Yet, the air is absent of the familiar, comforting aromas that typically greet you, and instead, you find Yoongi lounging on the couch, engrossed in a book.

“Didn’t you make dinner?” you snap, frustration bubbling up before you can contain it, the weariness in your bones making your temper short.

He glances up, confused, his lips parting to speak, but you cut him off, the anger spilling over. 

“You dick! You know I expect you to make dinner when I get home late,” you huff, the irritation morphing into something sharper, more biting. But before the anger can fully take root, it unravels into sobs, the tears pouring out uncontrollably, as if your exhaustion has found a new outlet. You’re crying so hard that you scare yourself, and Yoongi, too, who tosses his book aside and rushes to your side, wrapping you in his arms, his touch gentle and soothing.

“There’s leftovers, remember?” he whispers softly, his hand rubbing comforting circles on your back, his voice steady and calm, grounding you in the moment. 

And just like that, clarity washes over you. He’s right. Of course, he’s right. The realization of your misplaced anger makes you feel foolish, small. Lately, you’ve been snapping at him over the smallest things, calling him names in moments of frustration, but he always meets your outbursts with a patient smile, never holding your forgetfulness or emotional swings against you. He’s a gem, a steady rock in the midst of your storm.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he returns it with such tenderness that you know, deep down, everything is going to be okay.

The months in your new home pass like pages turning in a cherished book, each one filled with milestones and memories. You’ve hosted a housewarming, celebrated your baby shower, and now, winter has settled in once more, December’s chill creeping through the air. Maternity leave is just around the corner, and you can’t wait to have the time to focus entirely on Yoongi and the tiny miracle growing inside you.

“I’m so fucking tired, Yoon,” you sigh, sinking into a chair, every breath feeling like an effort, exhaustion etched into every part of you.

“It’s okay, take a break. I’ll finish up the painting. Why don’t you go change clothes?” he suggests with a reassuring smile, but the frustration within you bubbles up again, spilling over before you can stop it.

“I look so ugly,” you cry, tears welling up as you take in your reflection, emotions surging in a wave. “I’m so fat, and my stomach feels like it’s dragging me down. I’m swollen everywhere, and I just look so ugly.” Your voice breaks, the tears falling freely, and Yoongi drops his paintbrush immediately, rushing to comfort you.

“You’re not ugly, babe,” he says softly, wiping away your tears with his paint-stained fingers, his eyes full of love and sincerity. “Those extra pounds just make you even sexier,” he adds with a playful smile, kissing the tip of your nose. “Please don’t speak ill of your body. I love you, and I love everything about your body.”

You sniffle, his words washing over you like a balm, soothing the insecurities that have taken root in your mind. You know he’s right, and you decide to believe him, because why else would he stick around through all your emotional ups and downs? “Thank you, Yoon. I love everything about you too.”

The nursery is ready, painted in a soft shade of lilac, filled with carefully chosen furniture. You’ve both decided that your baby girl will sleep in your room at first, so the nursery remains more symbolic than functional for now. But it’s been a labor of love, preparing for this new chapter in your lives.

As you gaze out the window, watching the snow pile up on the street, a sense of quiet anticipation fills you. Soon, so very soon, you’ll meet your miracle baby, and the thought sends a warmth spreading through you, cutting through the cold of the winter night.

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow

*if this fucking taglist doesn't work... I don't know what to do with myself. Hopefully you'll find it even though tumblr will probably be a bitch and not let it work...

Author’s note(2): I really hope you liked it! I hope it wasn’t too angsty 🥹 This was largely inspired by the song ‘Pregnant’ by Phlake. You should really give it a listen, it’s very explicit and cute, lol 😝 Please let me know what you think in a reblog, comment or ask. And if you’ve ever had a miscarriage— here’s an extra hug for you 🫂

[murdockbarnes]

you'll have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

pairing: eloise bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: eloise bridgerton has successfully chased away a flurry of lady's maids. has she finally met her match?

wordcount: almost 3k

warnings: fluff, angst, no happy ending. 18+ minors do not interact. nothing explicit, but still.

A/N: eloise is aged up in this, around 24. partly inspired by this gorgeous artwork and good luck babe by chappell roan.

i try not use y/n in my fics but i started writing this over two years ago and a good chunk of it was already written using y/n, so i am just too lazy to change it now. sorry it that bothers anyone! any feedback would be greatly appreciated. have a great day!

*not edited, all mistakes are mine*

viscount bridgerton was worried. a slew of lady's maids and none were strong willed enough to deal with his storm of a younger sister, eloise. of course, he loved her passion dearly, just not so much when it felt like he had to look for a new lady's maid every other week. the last lady's maid lasted two days. anthony just hoped the new one would last a little longer.

eloise was proud of herself - she had just broken her personal record: two days. in the years since she had made her debut, she had driven away at least 20 lady's maids each year. it wasn't that she enjoyed tormenting them, it was just that she hated society's expectations of her and her sex. she hated the lady's maids on principal, it was nothing personal, even though they did make her life easier. she had thought that anthony would finally give up, so imagine her surprise when she went down to the drawing room only to find her mother sitting with whom she guessed was to be her new lady's maid.

"you must be joking" eloise scoffed.

"eloise-" violet began.

"quite the contrary, ma'am," you began as eloise's eyes once again slid over to yours. "i am to be your new lady's maid. my name is y/n y/l/n."

"don't bother getting too comfortable, miss y/l/n" eloise flashed you a sugary sweet smile before turning on her heel and departing.

the next few weeks saw you exhausted, as eloise did everything in her power to vex you enough to make you quit. but you were determined. each night, after whatever ordeal she had put you through for the day, whether it be going shopping and swiftly disappearing into the crowd, sending you up and down multiple flights of stairs to look for something she had with her all along, or whatever torture she thought of that day, you would smile brightly at her before departing for the night.

that night, right before you closed the doors to her room, you saw her crack, saw her frown. eloise was understandably confused. you should have given up by now, you should have broken and quit. yet, here you were two months into this arrangement. the longest yet. to be really quite honest, eloise was running out of ideas to scare you off.

another ball passed with more judgement from the mamas of the ton. eloise could feel their eyes burning into her back like the power of a thousand suns. she was just exhausted of this constant routine and wished she could escape. and she wanted this blasted dress off her.

you started unlacing the back of the dress, your fingers accidentally brushing her soft skin, goosebumps appearing in their wake. as you brush her hair and see eloise's reflection in the mirror, a prominent frown between her brows, you realise this ball must have taken more of a toll on her for her to be so docile with you. you blow out all candles save one, and even when you exit, eloise is deep in thought in front of the mirror.

hyacinth was debuting this season, and violet swears the effort to find both hyacinth and eloise husbands is taking years off her life. she loves how fierce and passionate her daughters are, but she wished it was easier to find them husbands, as at the end of the day she wants to see them happy with their own little family.

eloise is forced out to promenade with hyacinth, and as always, her lady's maid is to be her shadow. eloise is perturbed to see her so unbothered by her antics. when she crosses the street boldly in front of an oncoming carriage, so does she. when she takes a detour and leaves hyacinth and her own lady's maid behind, she follows. as she looks over her shoulder to see her walking a few paces behind, her foot hits the stump of a tree and she goes tumbling down.

the pain radiates up eloise's leg, and she feels hands on her in seconds. the next moments are a blur and eloise does not remember how she finds herself in her bed, a physician standing at the end of her bed claiming a broken foot, and her mother and youngest sister fretting over her.

"i'm afraid the foot is broken, lady bridgerton," the physician finishes his examination and wraps her foot in a bandage.

"how long will it take to heal, doctor?" violet asks worriedly.

"two to three months, my lady. possibly even more, depending on the severity."

"she'll miss the entirety of the season! maybe even more. can nothing be done?" violet queries. eloise, on the other hand, feels as though her wish of an escape has actually been granted.

"i'm afraid not, she must try to keep her weight off of it as much as she can. there is not much else that can be done, it will take time. maybe the countryside and fresh air will help, away from the busyness of the ton and the social season."

violet does not miss the way her daughter's face lights up. eloise, sensing her mother is about to refuse, speaks up.

"please, mama, i promise i'll be good. i'd be bored to death here anyway. at least at aubrey hall i'd get to enjoy the library." eloise can see the hesitation on violet's face, but she can see the moment she relents.

"alright, but your y/n is going with you."

eloise's smile drops but she knows arguing will just result in her stuck in london. so she agrees ruefully.

it's just you and eloise in the carriage on the way to aubrey hall, the rest of the bridgertons busy with the social season. you help eloise to her room, making sure she is comfortable before leaving to go make arrangements for dinner.

the short walk up the stairs to eloise's room that she insisted on staying in took a lot more out of her than she expected. her foot really was in a bad condition, that was true, but not bad enough that she would need to supervised at night too, she thought.

she's just settled into bed with a book after you helped her get ready for bed after dinner, when you walk into the room again, this time in a nightgown of your own, and a thin rolled up mattress, pillow, and sheets in hand.

"i'll be fine for the night, you can go," eloise says, briefly looking up from her book, slightly irritated.

"i'm sorry, miss bridgerton," you begin, already setting up your sleeping area for the night. "but i'm under strict instructions from the dowager viscountess and the viscount. i am to constantly be by your side, should you need anything, and that means sleeping in the same room as you."

you see as the irritation begins to bleed into her face, brows closer together, a slight frown on her lips.

"can't you just tell them you did and not actually sleep here? i'd quite like some privacy."

"my apologies, miss bridgerton, but i can't. i take my job and my duties to you and your family very seriously. i wouldn't do anything to jeopardise the trust your mother and brother have placed in me."

"i do not care about any of that! i just want a moment's peace from you!" eloise bursts out, red splotches high on her face. she makes a move to get out of bed but the pain in her leg flares up. within seconds, you are by her side, warm, gentle hands carefully positioning her foot back on the pillow.

"i'm afraid i have to disappoint you, miss. but i'm here to stay."

days in the countryside slipped into a routine. you would wake up first, prepare breakfast for eloise, along with a book. you'd get her ready for the day, and then station her by the large windows, refuse her when she wanted to walk around, and help her should she rebel anyways.

you confused eloise. why had you still not budged? and despite your stubborn moments, why did you always otherwise treat her with gentleness? here, in the countryside with less people around, she had seen you smile more. your hair was in a slightly looser updo, and your usual uniform not as strict. more than a few times, eloise found herself looking much too closely at you.

last night for instance, when you came back with your bedding after getting eloise ready for bed, in a thin, worn shift that hung loosely off your frame. the fire illuminated your silhouette through the thin shift as you stood facing it, getting ready for bed. eloise found her concentration completely off her book, a funny feeling in her chest. she could feel her cheeks heating up and her heart beating faster. she had never felt like this before, this flustered. she only prayed the candlelight was dim enough for you to be unable to make out the blush she was sure was on her face.

it confused her even further. being the analytical person she was, she read into every look, every touch. did she leave you as flustered as you did her? did you also feel this shortness of breath, this disappearing heartbeat?

she feels your fingers gently run through her scalp. everything feels different since that night. she can't help but try to look for clues, discern your expressions, your emotions, feelings. did you also feel this foreign feeling? she had bathed with the help of many a ladies' maids, but why does it suddenly feel so intimate? as though baring her unclothed body to you was akin to baring her heart out flat? the thought terrified and thrilled her at the same time, that you might truly see her, understand her and her feelings better than anyone.

the lukewarm water trickles down eloise's back as you gently move her hair and run the washcloth over her shoulders. you're kneeling by the bathtub, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact with eloise even though you feel her eyes on you. you switch to focus on washing her legs next, taking precaution to be extra gentle with her healing foot. your mind has just drifted to the thought about how intimate giving a simple bath to your employer can be if you harbour specific feelings for them, when eloise's hand, warm from the bath, wraps around your wrist. you finally make eye contact, and the desperation and emotions you find in her eyes knocks the breath out of you.

warm, wet hands cup your face gently, and you feel drawn to wherever they are pulling you to. you wait with bated breath, afraid that she'll stop, afraid that you would stop feeling her breath on your face, noses a hair's width apart. instinctively, your eyes close, and then you feel the softest pair of lips you've ever felt on yours. the perfume from her bathwater clouds your senses as her lips run over yours a little clumsily, but the hunger in the kiss makes up for it. you have never felt this kind of unadulterated desire in any other kiss before.

you kiss back with the same amount of hunger, tongue running over the seam of her lips, silently asking her to grant you permission, and she does. your fingers sink into damp hair, the feel of which you know all too well, as hers map the curves of your face and neck, and dare to go lower. a finger runs against your collarbone, taking advantage of the first few buttons undone and splaying against your sternum. you let her pull you into the bath with her, uncaring of your dress getting wet. when she further unbuttons your dress, you don't protest, letting her hands explore.

when you pull away after what feels like hours, there is a soft smile on her face, unlike her usual smirk, blush high on her cheeks and lips swollen, hair damp and skin glowing under the lamplight. you have seen her in many situations but you think she has never looked more divine.

things change between you after that. stolen kisses and casual touches behind closed doors, not a moment out of eloise's bed at night, going to sleep with the feel of her lips on yours, her taste still in your mouth. eloise grows more confident with her touches, no longer hesitant to mess up your appearance during your stolen moments, her hands slipping beneath the hem of your shift. as her foot heals little by little, she shows you further into the estate, taking any chance she can to leave your lips swollen and your cheeks hot. everything is so picture perfect that you are afraid of the bubble bursting when you do have to inevitably return back to ton.

and, inevitably as predicted, it does. the season ends with eloise's foot still on the mend, but her family's return to the countryside, while she finds that a joyous prospect, means distance between you both. still, it's not bad, you two still get to spend most of your time together, and you both master the art of stolen moments. it is not until the next season rolls around that the bubble is well and truly shattered.

a suitor starts pursuing eloise earnestly, and eloise doesn't seem entirely opposed to the idea. you know she was still trying to get over penelope's marriage to her brother, and the end to their future plans of spinsterhood. the spiral it sent her on had caused a rift between the both of you, but there was nothing you could do to bridge the distance, no matter how hard you tried; eloise had retired to her thoughts ever since.

eloise spent less time with you, and you found yourself spending more time with her footman, john, in an effort to distract yourself when thoughts of eloise consumed you entirely. john was a good man, he made you laugh and forget your problems with eloise, if only for a moment.

eloise walks into the drawing room and finds her mother and you, so reminiscent of that first day. instead of irritation or apprehension this time, her chest fills with knots. she hasn't spoken to you properly or spent time with you in weeks. she was too preoccupied in her own thoughts and refused to let you in. you won't meet her eyes now and the heavy feeling keeps growing heavier. you feel worlds apart. she never meant for the distance to happen.

"oh, eloise dear, come here," violet exclaims. "oh this is most wonderful news. y/n is getting married!"

"i- what?" shock colours eloise's voice. "to whom?"

"to footman john. now don't be impolite, eloise, isn't it just marvelous news?"

"yes, marvelous indeed." she chokes on the words, the fear of losing you coming to life. she was so scared, preoccupied with wallowing in her spinsterhood without pen, that she pushed you away. she feels her throat start to close up. "excuse me, mama, i just remembered i have to do something."

you watch with worried eyes as eloise departs, and follow after her, seeing if she needs anything. after all, that is what your job is, and it was stupid of you to think you that your relationship with her, whatever it may have been, could ever amount to anything more.

when you walk into her room, you see eloise pacing around, clutching her chest, tears streaming down her face.

"i do not want to see you right now." hurt colours her tone.

"eloise, i-"

"you do not get to call me that! you do not get to shatter my heart and then call me that."

"what do you want me to do, eloise? you cannot expect me to sit around waiting for you while you search for a suitor for yourself." you burst out, tears of your own now making a path down your cheeks. "you can't expect me to chaperone your promenades with suitors, bear that hurt. you cannot expect that of me. not when you don't want to give us a chance, not when you don't want to give us a future."

"i- that is not true."

"if that is not true, then tell me what i am to you. tell me that you are not considering marriage with any of your suitors. how long will you keep denying yourself love, deny what you and i are? marrying any of these men will not solve anything, even though i know you think it will. i love you, eloise, i gave my entire heart to you. can you say it back?" you have moved closer to her, eyes pleading with her to respond.

but she doesn't, turns away from you. "i can't, you know i can't."

you never thought words could hurt this much. the sting of tears is still fresh when you see eloise for the last time. "then this is goodbye, eloise. i hope you manage to find happiness."

when sir phillip kisses her at the altar, her mind drifts to her last kiss, a few years ago now. the ghost of soft lips on hers, feathering light kisses across her cheekbones and eyes, of lips curving into a gentle smile against hers. she feels the wrongness of this one, the stubble rubbing against her chin, slightly rough lips. but she'll drown herself on it nonetheless, choke on it until it erases her memories from her mind, takes with it that fateful final day. she can't turn back time, so she'll settle for this, the ghost of a soft kiss and gentle arms around her.

[gloomwitchwrites]

hi!!! i literally started reading your blog and FR YOU HAVE TALENT. Got me giggling and kicking my feet cus of that girl dad!tf141 fics.

I was reading one of the links you put in for prompt ideas and I read that one six words sentence from link five: "I can't risk losing you again." hello?? potential angst to fluff?? I couldn't get it off my head and i was wondering if you could write something from it :>

Thank you so much! That's so sweet of you! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading the Just Like Dad stories. I had a lot of fun writing them.

"I can't risk losing you again" is such an open-ended prompt. There is a lot you can do with that. I hope my humble offering is enough. I certainly went more angst than fluff on this one, but I really do love sad things with twinges of hope thrown in.

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, mild blood, non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications

Simon "Ghost" Riley: An enemy of Simon's harms you, forcing Simon to make a tough decision. (wc: 315) Kyle "Gaz" Garrick: Kyle decides there is only one way to keep you close. (wc: 323) John Price: Price worries after you tell him you're pregnant when the first pregnancy had complications. (wc: 329) John "Soap" MacTavish: Johnny learns that falling in love with a teammate can only lead to sorrow. (wc: 542)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Busted door. Shattered glass. Overturned table.

The lights aren’t working and rain enters through the open patio door. You are safe and whole and far from this. But is it enough? Will Simon be able to keep you safe?

What was once doubt is now cold truth.

It’s not your trashed home but the state Simon found you in. It was your heavy-lidded eyes and bruised face. It was the pools of red that Simon didn’t know belonged to you, the dead man facedown in the carpet, or both. It was your smile of relief when you realized it was Simon drawing you into his arms.

Simon knows the man who did this—no. He knows who fucking ordered it.

And when he finds Makarov, he’ll show that fucker just how trigger-hungry he can be. The lead will burst and fuse to his lungs, and Simon will bathe in the aftermath.

All that’s left is your safety. If Simon knew that his career would lead to this, he would have taken steps to protect you years ago. You are always his one bright spot, that candle in the dark that is his life.

With you, he became more than his trauma. More than his guilt. More than his past. With you, he found peace. He found happiness. You are the sugary candy that sticks in the teeth but is too addictive to give up.

Departing is agony. The return is his reward and his longing.

You are everything.

And that is why he let you go.

Why he said, “I can’t risk losing you again.”

He put his head in your lap, his fingers digging into the sides of your thighs and failed to push down the tears.

Laswell will take you far away. She will keep you somewhere safe.

Makarov won’t find you.

And maybe—perhaps in the future—Simon can return to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is a nervous wreck.

The tiny box sits heavy in his pocket, burning an invisible hole. His plan is not the most romantic, but the two of you aren’t the type to go big. It’s all subtle, and Kyle only wants this moment to include the two of you.

This is his last chance.

Kyle’s final opportunity.

In this relationship, Kyle has kept you second. Not on purpose but out of habit. Work is his lifeblood. It drives him, and every successful mission is a point of pride. But in keeping up with that, Kyle left you behind.

His absences lengthened, and over time, he noticed you were pulling away, closing off. But that isn’t your fault. Kyle created the perfect brew for you to drink. These are the consequences of his actions, and he needs to make it right.

There was a time when Kyle nearly did lose you. When he came home and thought you had packed up and left without saying a word. That broke him. Made him realize just how distant he’d become.

Change is difficult.

But Kyle did it. Slowly.

Your smile returned, and when he comes home, your greetings are full of passion.

I can’t risk losing you again.

Kyle takes a deep breath as the deadbolt on the front door disengages. There is a slight tremble in his hands. Kyle is never nervous. Never. But fuck—taking this next step is driving him up the goddamn wall.

He pushes off from the couch, turning just as the front door swings open.

You step inside, face turned away as you go to shut the door. When you finally glance into the room, all the nervousness inside Kyle’s chest evaporates.

Your smile is so sweet, and you don’t hesitate. Dropping your bag, you rush toward him, and Kyle cannot help but meet you halfway.

He’s making the right choice in asking you to stay with him forever.

John Price

“You’re not happy.”

John is happy. He is. But old worries bubble up, seeping into the joy. It’s tainting everything, and that is clear by how your smile starts to fade.

“I am happy,” he says, but his mouth is a hard line. John knows he’s frowning.

You shake your head, one hand resting over your stomach. “Don’t lie, John.”

This is supposed to be a happy moment. He should sweep you up in his arms. He should kiss you until you’re begging for air. But all John can think about are all the doctor appointments he attended with you, and the grimness of what might not happen.

From that came a daughter. John loves her. Adores her. But bringing her into the world nearly killed you. He grappled with that stress while being as present as possible with you. Growing your family has always been a dream, and John doesn’t fault you for a second. There is no family without you.

John grasps the sides of your face and moves into your space. Your own hands close over his, keeping him from retreat.

“I am happy,” he reiterates. “But we both know what it took to bring our daughter into the world.” John shakes his head absently and breathes deep. “Don’t do this for me.”

“John—”

“I can’t risk losing you again.”

This time, your smile returns. There is a hint of sadness lingering behind it, as if you too are reflecting on all that happened.

“Everything will be fine.” You release his hand and gently cup his cheek.

John kisses your forehead, his thumb absently tracing your jaw. “Are you sure?”

The decision is ultimately yours, and John will respect whatever you decide.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he nods.

John pulls you in, lips finding yours. When you melt into him, accepting all that he’s giving, a wave of peace settles over him.

This is right.

And whatever happens, the two of you will face it together.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny drips water all over the floor. He is soaked through. Shivering. But he could give a fuck.

“Where is she?”

“Soap—”

“Where the fuck is she, Price?”

Captain Price sighs heavily and crosses his arms. “She needs rest.”

Johnny swallows down his retort. He’s not upset with Price, and shit like this happens all the time, but he needs to know if you’re okay.

You took a fucking bad fall, and Johnny couldn���t stop to run after you. The mission comes first, and it wasn’t his job. Other people stepped in and whisked you away. But from the height you plummeted from, Johnny feared the worst.

Still does to an extent.

If you were dead, Price wouldn’t hide that from him. But he might hide how bad you’re injured as a way to protect him. Price has always been fatherly in that regard. Right now, it’s driving Johnny fucking nuts.

“Captain. Please,” Johnny clenches his fists and then releases them. “Let me see her.”

Price’s frown smooths a bit and the middle of his brow wrinkles with concern. “For a few minutes. All I can spare.”

Johnny has to keep from rushing to the hospital room doorway when the words leave Price’s mouth. He has Johnny walk with him to your door. Thunder rumbles in the distance and rain steadily hits the large window at the far end of the hospital room.

Just as Johnny takes a step inside, Price’s hand is on his shoulder.

“She’ll make it,” is all he says before he shuts the door.

Johnny lingers right inside. All the lights are off except a small lamp in the corner. Your eyes are closed, and your face is peaceful. There is bruising. A few bandages. The machines next to the bed beep softly.

He was so eager—so determined to get to you. Now, Johnny deflates.

On quiet feet, he grabs a chair and brings it over to your bedside. You don’t stir. Simply sleep. Johnny eases down into the chair and leans forward, his forearms crossed as he rests them on the side of the hospital bed.

Still, you don’t move. And Johnny doesn’t dare wake you.

Rest is important, and all he wants is for you to recover.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That I didn’t come sooner.” The rain picks up and Johnny smooths back his wet hair. “But I can’t keep doing this. Every time you’re hurt I—” He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his crossed arms.

“I can’t risk losing you again,” he murmurs into the bedding.

It’s become too much. You’re not supposed to fuck your coworkers and you shouldn’t fall in love with them either. But Johnny did both. With you. And he cannot take that back.

He’d give anything if you’d set this all aside.

Your fingers brushing against his scalp startle him. Johnny lifts his head, only to find you watching him. There is a soft smile on your lips, and his instinct is to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing each knuckle and then your palm.

The moment your mouth opens to speak, there is knock at the door. Johnny frowns and looks up, finding Price in the doorway.

“Time’s up.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife

@miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff

@berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf

@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

@sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d

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@lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic

@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

It’s Been a Long, Long Time ❥

Pairing: Pre!Outbreak Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You’re the school nurse at Sarah’s middle school and you’re volunteered to chaperone the school dance alongside her father, Joel Miller. After some other teachers upset you there, he makes a point of showing you how he feels while also teaching those assholes a lesson. 

A/N: okay so i know i just wrote one but you guys were so sweet in the notes :) *sobbing* and im obsessed with him so another Joel Miller fic for you, this one’s more fluffy tho here’s a sweet, smutty one, inspired by that one scene in “The Lost Husband” YALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT, enjoy and feedback as always is appreciated >~< i cant stop writing him PREPARED TO BE SICK O’ ME

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, cheesy, just absolute fuckin fluff, mentions of death, months pre-outbreak, language, reader is insulted, slight angst, mentions of alcohol, slight age gap, reader has panic attack, public making out, jealous!reader, Joel loves his pet names, he talks you through it, oral f! receiving, p in v, praise, unprotected sex, y’all it’s a lot 

You sip on your mug full of sugary coffee and rub your temple, tired from a night of little sleep. That’s when Sarah Miller, your favorite student, patient, and professional instigator, strides through your office doors with a big smile on her face. 

You open up your snack drawer with an affectionate roll of your eyes, grab a pack of skittles, and throw it her way. 

She catches it mid-air and sits down on the bed by your door, kicking her feet while she pops only the red ones into her mouth. 

“You’re gonna get me in trouble one of these days, hun,” you breathe a laugh. 

“Don’t worry,” she sighs, still grinning. “I’m on my lunch break and I finished it fast so I could come see you.”

You smile softly behind the rim of your mug, “Well, I’m glad to see you. What is it that you’re smiling so much about?”

“Awe,” she points to your mug. “You’re using the mug I got you.”

You look at the front of the mug, the words, “World’s Greatest Grandma”, on the front of if it with the word Grandma scratched out with a wash-proof marker and replaced with “Nurse”. She claimed she couldn’t find one that said what she wanted so she had to get creative. It makes you laugh every time you pick it up. 

“It’s my most prized possession,” you nod, matching her expression. “Now answer my question.”

She leans forward, having finished off all the red skittles, and hands it back to you so you can eat the rest. 

She says it in one, hyperactive breath, “I got my dad to volunteer at the school dance!”

You choke a bit on your coffee.

Setting down the bag of skittles and your mug, you look up at her and chuckling, “Why would you want to do that? Don’t most kids want their parents far away from their homecoming?”

She shakes her head like you’re not getting what she’s saying, exasperated, “I invited him for you, Nurse y/n.”

“I- Why would you-” you let out a nervous laugh before pulling yourself together. “Sarah. Why would you invite him for me, sweetheart?”

“Because you like him,” she props her head up against the wall behind her, a sly little smirk on her lips. She crosses her legs. “Obviously.”

You sip your coffee, a small scoff leaving you, “I don’t have a crush on your father, Ms. Miller. Since when do you play matchmaker, huh?”

“Since he asks about you like all the time,” she groans. “I told him that you’re coming and he basically dropped everything to come.”

Heat blooms in your face but you clear your throat and feign nonchalance despite it. It would be incredibly unprofessional for you to have a juvenile, little crush on a student’s father. Even if he is incredibly handsome, sweet, charming, funny, and a wonderful, single father to his little girl who you also have a soft spot for. 

But you do and you’re convinced it’s a bit bigger than a little one. You don’t act on it though because you’ve kidded yourself into thinking it would go away, wither from neglect like a dying plant with no sun. However, that hasn’t worked out very well so far. 

Sarah doesn’t miss the flush in cheeks and the small smile you dawn before maintaining your composure once again. She decides to hold onto this information instead of call you out because she’s nothing if not devious. She’s very observant for a 14 year old, you’re sure she gets it from her sharp father. 

He doesn’t let anything get past him, like hair in your face that he pushes away for you, a fallen eyelash on your cheek, your shoelace undone, your ponytail getting loose and about to fall out, and whatever else. It’s been almost an entire school year of this, going on field trips, meetings, him picking Sarah up from school when she’s sick (whether she fakes it or not), and around your shared neighborhood because even if it was big in Austin, Texas, he made it feel so damn small. 

And now Sarah says this and you can’t contain your excitement. But also your nerves were shot, you haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. It scares the hell out of you.

“I’m not volunteering,” you laugh. “Why’d you lie to him?”

“Because I’m going to convince you to come,” she raises her eyebrows. “Please, please, please, please!” she clasps her hands together. “I’ll buy you all the skittles you want, I’ll take the red ones out of all of them for you, too!”

“What if I’m busy?”

“I know you’re not.”

You gasp, “Rude, Sarah! I should write you up for that,” you tease. 

She smiles, “Come on, you can come and wear a pretty dress, drink punch, and eat free food. What’s not to like?”

“The bitchy moms and other teachers, for one thing-” you put a hand over your mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I shouldn’t have said that,” you chuckle, embarrassed, with your face in your hands.

She waves you off, “My father cusses like a sailor and I won’t tell. I don’t like anyone that works here besides you, anyway.”

“Well, now I feel like I have to,” you relent with a sigh, mulling it over. She was right in that you didn’t have anything to do, so what was the risk here?  

She looks at you expectantly, mustering up puppy dog eyes to persuade you. 

“If I go... no teasing me and your dad. He and I are just good friends,” you say, which is at least half true. “We enjoy each other’s company, nothing more.”

“Uh-huh,” she says in a sing-song, knowing voice, fingers crossed behind her back. “Sure, Nurse y/n. I promise.”

“I’m serious,” you point at her, taking the last sip of your coffee just as the class bell rings. “Now get out of here and go to math.”

She groans in protest but hops down from the table anyway and fakes being dizzy, “What if I have a fever?” She coughs. 

“Then walk it off,” you chuckle, knowing she’s lying. “See you tonight, Sarah.”

She grins widely, waving, running out, “Bye! Dad and Nurse Y/n sitting in a tree-”

“Sarah!”

~~~

Walking into the schools’ gymnasium, you’re almost shaking with nerves when you walk in. You feel like a teenager again, anxious and waiting for someone to ask you to dance. 

You slipped on a black slip dress with white trim at the ends and the sweetheart neckline, it hugs your body nicely and accentuates curves, dips, and makes your skin glow with a red sweater that hits at your waist and matches your red, strappy heels. Your hair is pulled back with barrettes to show off your makeup and fresh curls. 

The dance has already started thirty minutes ago, so everyone’s already dancing and having fun to the child-friendly music that the DJ spins for the room. You pick up a red solo cup filled with crappy fruit punch and spot Sarah in the crowd with a few of her friends. 

She waves enthusiastically in your direction before running over to you and hugging your side. “You look so pretty, Nurse Y/n!”

“Thank you, sweetheart. So do you!” you hug her back, trying the punch and wincing at the off-taste. “Tonight, you can just call me Y/n, if you want.”

She smiles, glowing at your arrival, “My dad’s over there talking to another parent. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”

You look up when she says this and meet his eyes from across the room, which means he was already looking. Joel Miller cracks a lopsided smile at you, excuses himself from his conversation with a pestering mom, and crosses the room to the two of you. 

He’s wearing a red flannel shirt, rolled up on his burly forearms, tucked into a pair of dark jeans with a black belt holding the pants up. His hair is slightly wet from a shower, you presume, and he smells of aftershave and smoke and cedar wood. He looks so good, standing in front of you with those all-encompassing brown eyes, you think you might cry. 

Those said eyes fall over you, and admire your dress, your hair, your everything. He looks down at his daughter, watching you both with avid attention. 

“Don’t you have friends to get back to, chick?” he cocks an eyebrow down at his scheming daughter. 

She rolls her eyes, smoothing out her blue dress. Her hair is braided into a bun at the back of her head, matching teal flowers pinned in her curls. “Okay, dad. Have fun!”

She races back to her group of friends and leaves you and Joel alone, two awkward adults who feel like kids again.

“You did her hair tonight?” you smile softly, gushing a bit now. “It looks so nice.”

He flushes and scratches the back of his neck, “Thank you. I tried my best, she did most of it. I just wanted tonight to be perfect for her. She forced me to come, though.”

“She got me, too,” you tilt your head, biting back a grin. “She should be a lawyer when she grows up, this kid.”

He looks out at her dancing with her friends and smiles fondly, “She would be great.” His eyes fall back down to you, “You look beautiful... by the way.”

You beam, “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, too, Joel.”

A blush spreads across his nose and cheeks, “Thanks. I was worried it was too simple and that I should have worn a suit... I didn’t know if it was nice enough to-”

You place your hand on his arm to stop his rambling, “You look great. Seriously. Don’t worry, all the moms and teachers will still drool over you.”

He pinches his brow when he stares down at you. You get the sudden urge to smooth out the small wrinkle between his eyebrows, ease his tensions. 

“Really?” he pins you down with his stare, but his dark eyes are glittering with amusement. “You’re way off base, sweetheart, I promise you. None of them think of me like that.”

You ignore the heat blooming in your chest at the nickname, he used it often but it never failed to make your brain short-circuit, “They all talk about you.”

He raises his eyebrows, “You’re joking.”

Jealousy swirls in your belly at the thought of these women and the things you’ve heard around school, but you pull it together with a quick tilt of your head, “I’m not laughing, am I?”

He notices your jaw clench a bit and how you gulped before speaking, logging the observations for later, “How do you notice?”

“How do you not!” you say, moving to his side and unintentionally brushing your arm against his. He shivers. “It’s obvious. It’s hard not to.”

His eyes linger on your lips before glancing back up your eyes, “Maybe I’ve been distracted.”

You grow flustered under his gaze and look ahead, stammering, “Yeah... maybe. And well... Sarah tells me that they ask her about your life in the pickup line after school. So it’s proving to be borderline obsession,” you laugh.

He smiles softly, seeing past your nerves, “Poor Sarah. She must love that,” he says dryly. 

“Sarah might say some choice words about them,” you shrug your shoulders. “She’s fine, though. I probably shouldn’t have told you, we tend to share secrets,” you look at him, filled with care for his daughter, for him.

“She adores you,” he says sincerely and you can tell by the warmth in his tone that he means it and appreciates it. “You’ve quickly become one of her favorite people within a little over half a school year. Tommy thinks you’re great too, from the few interactions you’ve had when he picks her up sometimes.”

You grin and his chest seizes at the light that exudes from your sweet expression, “Tommy’s a wonderful uncle. Good brother too. He talks about you often.”

“Oh yeah?” he looks at you, his voice sends shivers straight through you. “And what does he say?”

“Can’t betray a friend’s trust,” you shake your head, teasing. 

He discreetly shows you his flask of whiskey, “Not even if I let you drink from my emergency flask?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one thing,” you hold up a finger and he slips you the flask, cracking a dazzling smile, while you turn around and take a long sip. The DJ transitions the E.D.M to a slow song, something sweet and best to sway to. 

He takes a long sip himself and tucks it away in his pocket again, holding out his hand to you, “Do you want to tell me while we dance, darlin?”

You look around the room, your boss nowhere in sight. There was technically no rule against dating a student’s parent, but you didn’t want the judgement. You knew the people around here talked and there would be rumors, shaming. But he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room, putting himself out on a limb just to ask you to dance.

It didn’t have to mean anything anyway, it could just be two friends sharing a dance. You’ve danced with friends. It’s the same thing. Your internal monologue was racing a mile a minute. 

“Are we allowed to? I mean, as chaperones.”

“We’re watching the students more closely.” 

“Yeah, I just...” you pause, pinching your brow.

His face falls slightly. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he starts to pull his hand away. “It’s really no-”

You put your hand in his, “I’d love to dance with you, Joel.”

Warmth blooms in his handsome face and he pulls you into the crowd of dancing people. Joel pulls you gently towards him, placing his hands on your waist as you wrap your arms up and around his neck. You both try to keep your distance, make a good example for the kids, but it’s growing increasingly harder for him not to hold you close and kiss you right here in front of all these people. 

You catch Sarah giggling excitedly at you both dancing, whispering with her friends. You roll your eyes with a small smile. 

You look up at Joel, resisting the urge to lay your head against his chest, “You still want to know something Tommy said?”

“Desperately,” he laughs. 

“He told me you said I’m pretty.”

Rosy color spreads across his nose, but his eyes are darkened, his lips part slightly, “I should’ve known he’d tell you.”

“So he’s telling the truth?”

His eyes soften, “Of course he is.”

“Well... thank you,” you flush, blood rushing to your face, making Joel smile. You feel like a schoolgirl again. 

He chuckles, eyes searching your face, “You’re welcome.”

You tilt your head, “You’re pretty, too, Joel.”

He spins you as the song picks up a bit and pulls you back to him, your dress spinning as you do. He pulls you back against his chest, hands in against shirt and his around your waist. Warmth radiates from his broad chest, his hands are calloused even through the fabric of your slip dress, and your breath catches in your throat.

He doesn’t pay any mind to the stares he gets for doing it, but he lets his head drop to your shoulder, writing love letters in your skin when he lets out a breath. He says nothing about the compliment but he’s holding you closer, and that’s all he needs to do. A quiet understanding washes over the two of you in that moment. 

Joel’s always been the strong and silent type, but the longer the two of you have known one another, the closer you get, he’s begun to let more things slip. He begins to ramble, his nerves making an appearance when he’s near you, a teenager again. Then there are times like now when his actions do all the talking for him and neither of you need to comment on it. 

Then there are others when he won’t shut the fuck up. 

“People are looking,” you whisper. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“...No.”

“Then why do you care what they think?”

There’s a beat of silence before you sigh out the three words, “I don’t know.”

“We’re not Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey over here, the kids will be fine,” he teases. Then he lifts his head to bring your joined hands up to his side, moving you to the changed song with the more upbeat tempo. 

You snort, “Wouldn’t that be something.”

“If we were somewhere else...” he muses, looking at you to gauge your reaction.

You meet his eyes, your own crinkling with amusement, “You’d do the lift?”

He throws his head back with a thunderous laugh, “I’d try for you.”

“Think I’m too heavy?”

“God, no,” he spins the two of you, dodging a pair of kids dancing. “I’m just old.”

“You’re like 35, Joel.”

“You’re only 27, you don’t get it yet,” he whispers into the side of your hair and you laugh, not even bothering to glance in the direction of the judgmental moms and teachers. 

Joel Miller had a talent of making you feel like the only person in the room. 

The song ends and you feel out of breath just from being this close to him. You step away from him and smile softly, “I gotta run to the restroom. I’ll be back.”

His eyes sweep over you, then he nods, “Okay.”

“What?” you grin. “No dad joke about not falling in?”

“I’m classy Joel tonight,” he chuckles. “No bathroom jokes.”

You shake your head with a laugh as you walk back towards the restrooms. Stepping inside, you move to stand in front of the mirror and grab your lipstick from your bag, fixing up your makeup. You try to calm your nerves, hands shaking when you bring the golden tube to your lips. 

After taking a deep breath, your mind begins to wander about how his hands felt on your skin and how he thinks you’re pretty. The thoughts fill your head and litter your skin with goosebumps. 

You don’t usually like being the center of attention, but with Joel around you, it was hard not to be. And you couldn’t say you minded it. 

A few other women walk through the door and you recognize them to be Bethany, Sarah’s rude math teacher, Cara, a mom who gives you trouble constantly, and Kristina, another mom who thinks Joel is hot and constantly asks Sarah questions about him. 

“Hey, y/n!” Bethany draws out in a sing-song, forced way that sends a chill through your body. “Saw you out dancing with Mr. Miller. Ain’t y’all cute?”

You look at her blankly in your reflection and she clears her throat. 

“Adorable,” Cara’s shark eyes roam you over in the mirror, making you feel small as you fix your foundation. You don’t let it show though, you weren’t going to give them the satisfaction.

“Such a shame about Joel’s wife,” Kristina hums, putting on her own bright pink lipstick. “Wonder if he’s still looking for a stepmom for sweet little Sarah.” 

The three of them laugh together and you feel your blood pressure quickly rise. Three wild vultures circling a carcass, kicking it while it’s down. 

“Can we not tonight, ladies?” you turn around to look at them. “Let’s just forget this and have fun.”

“What do you mean, dear? This is fun,” Bethany blinks her stark, blue eyes, red lips curling. “This must be a lot for her though, girls. She’s probably having a rough time considering what happened to her.”

You freeze.

“Oh yeah...” Cara finishes her makeup and frowns at you. “I remember hearing your fiancee passed away before you came here, how sad.”

Your blood runs cold, sirens going off in your head, and a pounding begins in your skull. No one’s brought up Rick since you’ve gotten here, you’ve dodged the questions from the nosy parents, the gossiping neighbors, and the rude coworkers. You don’t know how they figured it out, and now you feel it, being back in the car with Rick the night that it happened. 

Joel and Sarah didn’t even know, you had pushed it to the back of your mind so you would never find it again. Now it’s coming back like a wave, full force, and pulling you under the current until you’re drowning. 

“Then you moved here to Austin in July,” Kristina slits her eyes at you and cocks her head to the side. “Now you’re trying to get back out there with Joel, huh? Like you’d really have a chance with him.” 

She looks in your direction and it’s as if she sees right through you, past your carefully created facade and into your core, that sad, broken girl with no family left and nowhere to go. 

Your eyes fill with hot tears, you want to run away, but you can’t move. You’re frozen, feet glued to the linoleum tile. 

“I knew Rick... your fiancee,” Bethany says. “He was so sweet. We went to college together.”

“So sweet,” Cara looks at you and flashes another sickly sweet smile.

You inhale sharply, tears falling down your face. You hastily wipe it away, “I... I gotta go.”

You grab your purse off the counter and rush out of the door, slamming into a hard chest and a pair of hands that fly to catch you by the waist. 

Joel stares down at you, grounding you, and your eyes begin to brim with tears, “What’s wrong, sugar? What happened?”

The words tumble out of you, wiping away the tears that slip out while you ramble on, “Nothing, I just... the women in there, they’re horrible, they hate me, and they make me feel like shit. They brought up Rick and they think you’re hot and they think we’re dating and I just wanna go. I’m just gonna go home-”

He looks over your head at three women leaving the bathroom, waving in his direction. 

Joel looks back down at you before tucking his fingers into the straps of your dress and pulling you into a searing kiss. Your inhale sharply when his soft lips meet yours, and your hands grip onto his flannel shirt, sighing into his mouth. He slips his hands up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to kiss you more completely, unraveling you in his capable hands. 

Bethany stares at you wide eyed, getting the other girls attention, all jaws dropped in utter shock at the image before them. 

His tongue dances with yours as he moves his lips expertly, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheekbone as he coaxes your lips open. He hums small praises while tracing shapes into your skin. You let a small noise slip past you, unable to contain how good he’s making you feel, swallowing your sadness and helping you breathe again. 

He groans as he forces himself to pull away from you, struggling not to kiss you again. Forgetting you’re not alone. 

Joel’s hands slip down to rest on your shoulders, lips flushed and swollen from the kiss, voice gravelly, “I hate terrible people.”

You look at him, mouth parted, lipstick probably smudged. He licks his lips before glaring at back at the women before they scoff and walk away, muttering under their breath. 

Neither of you get the time to speak of it before Sarah is running down the hallway, after hearing the commotion. You and Joel split apart when she comes up, and she’s smiling widely. 

“Kelsey asked if I could sleepover, can I go get my stuff at the house and go to her place? Pretty please,” she begs her dad, clasping her hands together. 

He tears his eyes away from you and nods, smiling, “Yeah, that’s fine. We’ll head home and I’ll walk you there.”

Sarah grins happily before looking up at you. “Everything okay, y/n?”

You force a smile and fix a flower falling out of her hair, “Yeah, I’m good. And I think I’m ready to go, too.”

“Do you need a ride?” Joel asks. “I know you walked here cause we all live so close, but I don’t want you walkin’ home in the dark. Also Sarah’s got control of the radio on the way back,” he offers you a grin. “She’s got good taste.”

“We’re listening to 80′s hits,” Sarah nods, taking her job very seriously. 

You nod, feeling better just by being near the two of them. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

~~~

“Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears is blaring through Joel’s truck and you’re humming under your breath while Sarah is screaming it in the backseat. Joel laughs at his daughter in the rearview mirror. 

Grieving your boyfriend’s death has been something you’ve pushed aside for a long time. You knew these women could be catty, but you never thought they’d be downright cruel to you, bringing up Rick the way they did. Looking out the window, you think back to the moment you felt frozen in that bathroom, unable to speak or move. You feel embarrassed for not standing up for yourself, blaming yourself instead of them and their hateful words. 

Joel notices your faraway expression and rests his hand on your thigh in a way so Sarah can’t see. He rubs his thumb over your bare skin and it both calms and excites you, heat rushing to the apex of your legs. 

You let out a small sigh and lean back into the chair, resting your hand on top of his. He has to rip his eyes off of you, willing himself to ignore your pleased exhales if he was going to drive properly. 

He pulls the car into the driveway one-handed and comes to a stop, turning around to talk to Sarah, “Go grab your stuff, chick, and we’ll go to Kelsey’s.”

She nods and hops out, running towards the house.

Joel turns to you, hand still on your leg, clearly nervous, “Do you want... do you want to come inside? I have wine and some clothes you can put on, if you want something more comfortable.”

You search his set features for confirmation, “You sure? I can just walk next door to my house, I don’t wanna put you out-”

“Y/n...” he stops you. “You should know by now that if I say something I mean it, I promise you.”

You didn’t know if it was a good idea being with him alone like this, but you honestly didn’t want to be by yourself right now. 

You relent with a nod, “Alright. You had your chance to change your mind,” you flash a sneaky smile. 

The two of you step out of the car and head into his house. Sarah’s already tumbling down the stairs, changed into pajamas with a packed bag slung over her shoulder, “Ready to go when you are.”

“Damn, you got ready fast, kid,” he laughs despite himself. “Let’s go.”

Sarah runs up and hugs your side, “Bye, y/n!”

“Have fun with Kelsey, be safe, okay?” you squeeze her shoulder. 

Joel whispers to you as they walk to the door, “There’s shirts upstairs and some shorts you can borrow. Make yourself at home, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile softly. 

They head out and leave you alone in the dimly lit house. You exhale slowly and head up the stairs to go to his room. You look around at the messy bedroom, one king size bed with blue covers, and minimal decorations. It felt like him, smelled like him, cedar and oak and smoke. You open one of his drawers to grab one of his big tee shirts from work, and a pair of baggy gym shorts. 

You slip out of your dress, let down your hair, and set your red shawl down on top of it. You tug on the big tee shirt and pull on the gym shorts. As much as you had liked that dress, you feel like you can finally breathe now, much more comfortable in your sleepwear now. The clothes smelled of him, too, and it filled your chest with heat, a red glow pouring out of you. 

You’re in Joel Millers room... wearing his clothes. 

You can’t help but look around at the photos of Sarah and him in framed photos, some hung on the wall and others propped up on his drawers. There’s one photo that catches your eye in particular, though, the side of it folded in and tucked into the frame. It’s Joel smiling down at Sarah, just a baby in his arms, and there’s a part of the photograph hidden. But you spot a glimpse of a yellow dress in the corner, the rest of it hidden away. 

You wonder if it’s Sarah’s mom. You don’t know much about her, just that Sarah says she never got to know her, and hardly remembers anything about her. It broke your heart hearing that, wishing she could have, but also selfishly wanting to be that person for her.

“Found what you needed?” 

You jump at Joel’s sudden presence in the room and turn around to him. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop, I-”

He smirks and it feels like a lit match to your insides, “I know, darlin. Nothing to be sorry about.”

His eyes trail over you in his clothes, your arms folded under your chest, “You look good in my clothes, sweetheart. Better than I do, that’s for sure.”

You smile, “Thank you. And thanks for letting me borrow them. I feel better.”

He pinches his brow together, “Do you want to talk to me more about what happened? We don’t have to, but just know I’m here.”

You take a step towards him, “I know, I just haven’t talked about him in a long time.”

“Him?” his eyebrows raise.

You laugh at his shock, moving past him so he follows you downstairs, “Down, boy. I’m single, wouldn’t have let you kiss me if I wasn’t.”

He blushes. “Well, then, what about him?” he trails behind you to his kitchen. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

You love his Texan drawl and voice a bit too much, how deep and molasses like it was, how it coated you in sweetness and didn’t let up. Maybe it was because you weren’t from here and you weren’t used to it. But his was different and it affected you all the same. 

“I might tell you,” you hop up on the countertop. “Over a glass of wine.”

Joel cracks a smile, happily obliging your request with one of his wine bottles, “I can do that.”

He pours you a glass of red and hands it to you, “So... who’s Rick?” He sips his own.

“My um... my ex fiancee,” you say, taking a long sip of your wine. “It feels weird calling him that...” you let out a dark laugh. “-since the two of us never ended it ourselves, it sounds wrong. But he uh-” your voice gets thick. “He died the beginning of last year.”

His face falls, genuinely on your behalf, wanting to wrap you in his arms, but also wanting to let you continue, “I’m so sorry, y/n.”

You’ve heard that more times than you can count from friends, family, and strangers alike, but from him, it’s one of the most sincere you’ve ever heard. You actually believe he truly cares and you wonder why you didn’t tell him sooner, maybe worried you’d scare him off. You wanted a fresh start in a place where no one knew Rick, where no one knew what happened. 

“Thank you,” you sniff, mustering up a small, grateful smile before you continue. “It was New Year’s Eve. I didn’t know he had been drinking... he really seemed fine,” you recount like it was just yesterday that it happened. 

“He didn’t see the ice on the roads,” you take another long sip, hands shaking again. You clear your throat, “I tried to help him, I thought we would be fine. But there was a bridge... and we went off. He got me out,” you blink the tears away, breathing out the words as if expelling them from your person. Like you wouldn’t have to hold onto them anymore. “He didn’t.”

“I’m alive because of him,” you inhale sharply, finally looking at Joel. “And he’s dead because I didn’t notice...”

He frowns, “It is absolutely not your fault, y/n. It’s a horrible thing that happened and it is not because of you.”

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and it breaks Joel’s heart a bit more and more, “I haven’t thought about it in so long. And they brought him up in the bathroom. I don’t know how they found out, I haven’t told a soul here.”

Protectiveness slips into his deep tone of voice as he steps towards you, it sends a shock through you, “What did they say about him?”

You shake your head, letting out a laugh, “It’s not important.”

“It is absolutely fucking important,” his eyes darken when he speaks to you, you’d never seen him so worked up before. “I’ll go to the damn superintendent if I have to, they’re grown ass adults. They shouldn’t use the death of your fiancee against you.”

You can’t help but let a smile slip through, “It’s cute how mad you are about this.”

He scoffs, mirroring your amused expression, “Believe me, I’ve dealt with the wolves before. They ask you inappropriate questions and dig into your personal life, pushing your boundaries like it’s nothing. No one can have any secrets around here.”

“Yeah,” you sniff. “I noticed that.”

There’s a beat of silence before he sighs and says quietly between the two of you, “When they found out about Sarah’s mom leaving her when she was a baby, they brought it up to her at a school picnic. Made her feel small. She ran home, crying her eyes out. I’d never seen her so upset. I was scared what I would do. It broke me.”

You nod in understanding, “That’s awful, Joel. I’m sorry. For you and for Sarah.”

“The next time they brought it up, Sarah asked Bethany why she’d been divorced six times. You should have seen the look on her face,” he laughs and you join him, throwing your head back at the mental image of Bethany’s pinched, angry face. 

“Oh my god, I love Sarah so much,” you let your head fall into your hands, still laughing loudly in the otherwise silent kitchen. 

“I was very proud,” he grinned. 

“I’d hope so,” you tilt your head slightly. “She gets it from you. I wonder how she got that information about Bethany.”

“Beats me,” he smirks and you narrow your eyes affectionately in his direction. “Smart kid, that one.”

The two of you let the moment sink in for a bit in the silence. Joel’s standing between your legs now, hands on either side of your thigh, steadying himself. He searches your face like he did at the start of the evening, fingers itching to touch you again. 

“Should we...” you finally say, pulling you both back into reality. “Should we talk about the kiss back there?”

“What’s there to talk about about?”

You frown, filling with a sense of dread that you’ve misread this entire night, “What do you mean?”

He jumps to fix what he said, hands falling to splay out on your thighs, “No, baby, wait not like that-” he sighs. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m out of practice with this, sweetheart-”

You press a kiss to his lips, causing him to abruptly cease his rambling. You tilt your head and pull away from hm after just a couple seconds. He leans against you even after you’re away from him, lips trying to follow you. 

“I just meant...” you whisper with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes. “Like what does this mean? Because I haven’t done something like this since Rick and I’m trying not to feel guilty...”

“Guilty bout what?”

“For moving on.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for that,” he shakes his head, lowering his voice. “I understand if you’re not ready though. It took me awhile, to open again, I still haven’t completely... But I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. And I know I’ve never met Rick, but I believe he’d want you to be happy. With whoever, even if it’s not me.”

Your heart cracks open at the sweetness of his words, splitting you in two right in front of him. You know you shouldn’t feel bad, even if you’ve moved on from loving Rick, a part of you will always mourn and have a place in your heart for him. You needed to realize there was more than enough room to let other people in too. 

Your eyes soften, “You’re more out of practice than I thought if you think I’ve moved on with anyone else but you, Joel Miller.”

His eyes darken with something like raw desire and complete adoration, something like love that you haven’t seen in a long, long time. You don’t know if he’s been looking at you like this all along and if you’ve just now begun to notice. 

Joel leans down to whisper to you, hand on your neck, thumb tucked under chin and other fingers on the side of your throat, squeezing just so. You dreamed of this, thought if he would be rough or sweet, when he was really a stunning, swirling mix of both. 

“You were so jealous earlier,” his voice is wrecked in your ear, low and gravelly. “I thought I was just imagining it at first, but talking about those moms that think of me, you got so red. It was so sexy, sweetheart.”

You gasp a little, wanting to deny it, tease him. But who were you both kidding? You were jealous, and now there’s a warm satisfaction in the center of your chest at the fact they were wrong. Singing insults, saying he wouldn’t want you. Now you’re in his kitchen in the middle of the night wearing his shirt and he’s in between your legs, pressing against you. 

“They said I didn’t have a chance with you,” you tangle you hands in his shirt, tugging him closer. 

He shakes his head, eyes never leaving you, “I’m only yours, baby. Always have been.”

You all but pounce on him in that moment, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. He laughs just before you softly press your lips against his, the rumbling, beautiful sound vibrating against you. You’re tugging at each other almost immediately, his hands pulling and sliding up and down your waist while your arms wrap around his head. You fingers slide through his brunette curls, pleasantly humming at the satisfaction of knowing his hair is just as soft as you imagined, how even his rough hands feel gentle, and how his lips move with yours, slowly, languidly, painfully. 

“You’re beautiful...” he kisses the words into your neck, repeating it over and over. “My beautiful, beautiful, girl.”

“Joel...” you sigh out and tilt your head back. 

“Puts your arms around my neck, baby,” he whispers, arms pulling your legs up so they wrap around his torso. “What I want to do to you won’t work exactly on my kitchen counter.”

You quickly oblige him and he carries you up his stairs, your hands and lips never leaving each others. He stumbles while holding you, making you giggle into his shoulder, shrieking when he almost drops you.

“Was this the kind of lifting you had in mind with me tonight?” you smile softly into his skin. 

He kicks open his bedroom door, “I’ve always had this in my mind, sweetheart.”

You both drop onto the bed, wanting to take this slow but also get to what you’ve both been wanting as soon as possible. He’s atop you, hands on either side of your head while you kiss like college students, handsy and messy and surprisingly amazing. How fast you two fit together, how good it feels. He grinds his lower half into yours. You moan into his mouth, earning one from him, both enjoying and exploring the other. 

“I wanna taste you, sugar,” he lifts your chin up with his fingers, kissing down your chin then your neck then your collarbone and chest. 

You wordlessly slip off your, his, shirt revealing that you have nothing on beneath it. He inhales sharply, taken aback by you. Your fingers scramble for the buttons of his flannel and you honestly think you break a few, moving so quickly. 

“Impatient, are we?”

You look up at him through your lashes, “Just know what I want.”

Joel shrugs off his shirt, undoes his belt, and pulls off his jeans. You barely have time to admire his toned body, broad shoulders before he descends. He tugs off your, his, shorts, tosses them, and kisses everywhere his fingers leave, wet, open mouthed whispers against hot skin that make moisture pool between your thighs. His lips trail from your belly to your inner thighs and back up again. 

“Nothing underneath?” he kisses the soft flesh, noting the slick at the apex of your legs. “This all for me, darlin?”

You nod when he licks a stripe up your cunt, “Only you, Joel.”

He buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved, rutting against the bed like he’s enjoying it as much as you are. You all but scream at the way he’s unraveling you with his tongue, circling your clit, accompanying his skilled mouth with his equally capable fingers, bigger than yours

When you tug at the ends of his hair, he groans into you, the noises fueling the coil in your gut, begging it to splinter and snap. He sucks hard and you let out a loud moan at the feeling. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. Joel’s tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. 

Your orgasm washes over you, the pressure relieving through every nerve and vessel, his name a prayer leaving you over and over. Wishing for him to come fix you again. 

You pull him up to you and bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places while you taste yourself in his kiss. 

“Can I...?” you ask him, hands slipping down to palm him through his boxers. 

He groans, head falling into the crook that meets between your neck and shoulder, “As much as I would enjoy that, baby... we’re gonna need to do that later. Need to be inside you.”

You look at him for a moment, just breathing him in as cheesy as it sounds. It’s only hit you now how much you’ve been longing for this.

“You have all of me,” you tell him, moonlight sculpting his handsome features. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that, y/n...” your name is blanketed by his voice, delivered to you in the way Zeus gives the world lightning. Simple bursts of electricity that can tear the earth. 

You hold his stubbled jaw in your hands, rubbing his cheek with your thumbs. He doesn’t remember a time anyone has ever looked at him like you do, gently, adoringly, openly.

Joel puts his lips near your ear, kissing your temple, “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” 

You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder. 

Your hair is in messy tendrils in every which way and you’ve never been more breathtaking to him. The color of your eyes brighter, skin flushed with warmth, and lips puffy. His eyes scan over your face, committing your soft and sharp features alike to memory. Lust blown and glowing with dewy sweat. 

“Eyes on me, beautiful,” he holds your jaw in his hand, kissing you again. 

He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. 

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praises in your ear, littering kisses across your jaw. “Wanted you for so long...” he find your lips again with his own.

You mewl into his lips, licking his tongue as he pushes inside you again and again and again.

This past year of stolen glances and touches seem so pointless when it could have been this, this beautiful mess of limbs and lips and tongue. You never knew euphoria until this moment. 

Joel’s hips begin to stutter and you’re both already close to release. You lick up his throat and kiss a constellation across his jaw, feeling him gulp under your touch.

“Keep kissing me like that, sugar, and I’m done for.”

You can’t help yourself, overwhelmed with feeling as the two of you reach your climax together. Blissful and stupid. His lips wander down your neck and nipping that sweet spot, as you arch into him.

As you both lay there, chests heaving slips parted, he smiles down at you.

You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, continuing on in euphoric waves, leaving you aching and wanting more. He kisses you through it and it aches, all of the love you have pouring into him and him into you.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

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.”

[berriwritertingz]

the summer i wrote | one

content: future smut, fluff, angst, basically all of it

pairing: milo manheim x afab!reader & ross lynch x afab!reader

summary: every summer, you travel to dahlia's beach to reunite with your mother's closest friend and her son. but this year he unexpectedly brings a friend along. caught in the gentle waves of affection and longing, you find yourself navigating uncharted waters where the boundaries of friendship blur.

notes: this is loosely based on the summer i turned pretty. i just watched the second season and lawwwd i wanted to make a ff soo bad. plus milo and ross have absolutely none anywhere.

masterlist

You loved Dahlia's beach. It always smelled salty with a hint of expensive barbeque if you were in the city. But near the countryside there was the sweet smell of honeysuckle. That's where you would rather be, where the tall grass met the sandy dunes. The sounds of hooves on pavement and bustle around the farmers market on a hot weekend afternoon.

This summer was no different. Your stomach churned, rumbling in excitement as you neared the beach house. It was huge. Five bedrooms with enough bathrooms. Too many patios surrounding it. Turquoise colored pool with a small waterfall. The house was a blueish gray color with white accents. Calm and minimalistic, much unlike the other grand colorful houses on the street. It sat like a diamond around other stones in a non normal way. The most priceless of them all. Placed directly in front of the beach but not close enough to tourist spots so it was always quiet. It was always such an amazing way to spend the three months in between school. You looked forward to it every year.

But that wasn't all you looked forward to.

Your mom honked as you guys entered the driveway. A wide smile plastered on her face. Your mom seemed to love this place more than she loved you, even if she denied it when you asked. You knew the truth. Summers at the beach house were the only time she got to see her best friend, Camryn.

"Hey!" A voice squealed from the porch. You shuffled out of the car, legs aching after a long 5 hours. As you stretched you were met with Cam, arms spread jumping for joy. Practically knocking you over. They were best friends from high school. Going to college together and even sharing a dorm room. With how they acted every time they met, you were convinced they had separation anxiety. They didn't get to see each other throughout the year. Other than here of course. For they lived states apart, Dahlia's being a quiet beach town that was located in the middle.

Camryn engulfed you in a bear hug first, gushing about how pretty you are. Making you do a spin in your dress. Once she pulled away she did the same to your mom whose high pitched voice could be heard from the beach. As they talked about how ‘different’ each other looked. You watched as they walked inside hand in hand when your eyes met his.

Milo.

He radiantly smiled as he trotted over to you. The classic hands in pockets, ruffled hair, and expensive glasses. It was like he had a glow up every year whether it was him dressing better or maybe getting a bit taller.

"Hi" He cooed embracing you in a tight hug. The smell of his overpriced cologne filled your nose. It reminded you of sugary trees and cool waves. Much like the beach house. He was another reason you loved the beach house so much. Without him you were stuck with two middle aged ladies whose celebrity crush was Liam Neeson and only watched tv shows made by Shonda Rhimes. He was fun. He never made you feel left out or alone. He was everything any girl could wish for. Tall, smart, rich, and incredibly good eye candy.

"Hello, Milo." You smiled as he let you go.

He ran a hand threw his hair looking down at you. Eyes trailing down your body strangely. His expression was unrecognizable. Your face heated up turning your head to avoid his gaze. He touched the bottom of your dress. Yanking the fabric gently.

"This is a little short isn't it?" He questioned eyes meeting yours. Lips curled up in a sly smile. Rolling your eyes you scoffed slapping his hand away. He acted like a big brother sometimes. Especially with your clothes. Every summer complaining about how short your shorts were or how revealing your bathing suit was.

"Oh shut up you do this every-" The sight of someone else on the porch caught your eye. "Who's that?" You questioned raising an eyebrow.

Milo turned around and nodded in acknowledgement as the boy made his way down the stairs. Bleached blond hair slightly overgrown and wide smile on display as he made his way towards you two.

"Y/N this is Ross, Ross Y/N. He's staying the summer with us this year." Ross reached his hand out to you. Clad in silver rings that looked a bit out of your price range. Does Milo have any Middle Class friends? It was unusual. No one ever came to the beach house from back home. It was like a unsaid rule between everyone. Written in big red letters 'No Strangers'. The dads didn't even bother coming even though Milo's paid for it.

"Nice to meet you." He looked you up and down a tongue swiping over his lips. "Milo didn't tell me how pretty you are."

"Dude!" Milo exclaimed punching his shoulder rolling his eyes.

"Thank you." You beamed softening your voice. Milo scoffed walking towards the trunk slightly bumping into Ross. But he didn't seem to mind, hazel eyes still trained on you.

"So where are you fr-" Ross was cut off by a slightly pissed off Milo. "Are you guys serious? C'mon Ross help me with these bags." Ross walked away backwards eyes still focused on you with that addicting smile of his.

"See you inside?" He whispered loud enough for you to hear him.

You didn't respond. Only nodding as you strolled inside.

a/n: soooo what do you guys think? im still trying to figure out this tumblr writing stuff im so used to just reading ive never written and posted anything on here lololol. pls be patient with me! a few tips and tricks would be greatly appreciated!!

taglist

[tubatwo]

third wheel - huening kai (+kang taehyun)

summary: where kai feels like a third wheel in your relationship

pairing: gn reader x tyunning

genre: fluff/slight angst: 1.4k words

a/n: forgive me for writing poly fics but this is a safe space right…? |⩊･)ﾉ⁾⁾ I just love the dynamic of a throuple with the stern one and the one who gives reader everything they want lol. I immediately thought of writing something with tyunning! would anyone want an alternative ver with tae?

being in a relationship with taehyun and kai was the perfect balance.

there was taehyun: the sweet but spicy one who loved taking the lead

and then there was kai: the shy one that couldn’t help but grant your every wish

‎ ‎

‎ ‎

‎ ‎

sometimes their different personalities left kai feeling uneasy about what he might be lacking. sometimes he felt as if you enjoyed taehyun’s boldness more. and today happened to be one of those days as you laid on kai’s chest, rubbing his tummy while waiting for your other lover to come home. taehyun had excused himself shortly before to grab some food for movie night, not wanting either of you to move a muscle after the morning you had.

“taehyun, stop!” you giggled while playfully pushing him away as he tickled the sides of your waist.

the three of you decided to go to an amusement park together as a celebration for your free schedules finally lining up. the lines were long, the people were loud, and the weather was honestly shit, but none of you could resist the idea of a fun, nostalgic trip. however, while you and taehyun shared laughter and innocent touches, kai stood off to the side, almost as if he was a third wheel. multiple people had already complimented you and taehyun as a couple, and now you were waiting to ride one of the rides together; one that kai was completely terrified of. he already agreed to skip this one and wait for you guys to finish, but now he was having second thoughts. standing to the side, staring at the ground, kai wished that he could be different for you just once. he wished that he could be more confident when it came to pda, he wished that he wasn’t afraid of scary rides, and he wished that people would recognize you guys as a couple too.

“hyuka? you aren’t riding right? why do you look so uncomfortable?” you asked innocently, unraveling taehyun’s arms around you so you could grab kai’s instead. before he could even process what was happening, he already blurted out

“i’m going too.”

despite yours and taehyun’s assuring words that it was okay to skip this one, he went through with his plan. from an outsider’s perspective, it would look like he was completely in zen mode while the ride was going. but on the inside, kai felt scared. he felt dizzy and horrible, but the only thing he cared about was the three of you sitting next to eachother while holding hands. sadly, that short burst of contentment came to an end after the ride ended and he felt the urge to throw up

hours later, kai’s stomach has calmed down a lot and is more than ready for some real food. taehyun calls to double-check everyone’s order while standing in what seems to be the longest line in the world. after giving your orders, the voices of you and taehyun slowly fade into background noise while kai spaces out. “how long will it be, tae? i’m getting really hungry…” you pout, nuzzling your face into kai’s chest.

“i’m sorry angel, I didn’t expect the line to be this long. it’s like a nightclub over here.” kai stays silent, not really focused on the conversation happening right now. “wait!” you sit up, slightly flustering him in the process. “we have those snacks from our last trip right? huening, let’s eat some.” you bounce lightly on the couch and grab his hand, making his ears grow redder than before.

“y/n, you shouldn’t eat any sugary snacks before dinner,” taehyun interrupts and lightly scolds, “plus, we might upset huening’s stomach again.” but what taehyun doesn’t hear is the sound of your own stomach letting out a small growl.

kai can’t help but feel guilty, even though his stomach was the one that went through the most today. deep down, he knows taehyun is right, but all he ever wants is to make you happy, even if it’s something silly like sugary snacks. it’s not that taehyun doesn’t want the same, oh no, you’re his angel and he loves to spoil you. but someone has to be the responsible one, and it just so happens that kai has an extremely hard time telling you no.

“i’ll skip snacks this time, but they can have a few just to calm their stomach, yeah?” kai tries to compromise on your behalf, resulting in a loud but humorous sigh from taehyun on the other line. “alright you scoundrels, but I want both of you to eat well tonight.”

kai zones out again as you lightly tease taehyun after being saved by kai, and he hears a beep signaling the end of the call after a few minutes of you two going back and forth. you immediately do a small victory dance after, making kai shyly laugh and touch his nose. his thoughts quickly leave his head though, as you lean down to press tons of kisses across his face. “thank you baby, you’re always so good to me.” you murmur. kai frowns at this, because he truly believes that he should do better.

“not enough.” he mumbles.

your smile fades as you lift your head up, “what do you mean?”

“I wish I could do more for you.” he admits, “like taehyun…”

his words continue to confuse you, especially after the brave face he put on today while at the amusement park. neither of you wanted him to do something he wasn’t comfortable with, but he insisted anyway. regardless, you weren’t sure where these sudden feelings were coming from. “I don’t understand… the both of you are equally good to me, though?”

he sighs before continuing, “but I get shy in public… people don’t even realize we’re together.” before you could even open your mouth to respond, he continues his rant, each word leaving another sting inside his chest. “he also takes the lead a lot, and i’m just… here.”

you chuckle lightly as you realize that this is just a small case of jealousy. you love kai a lot, and during times like this, you feel happy reminding him of just how much. “huening, you do know that you’re my safe place, right?” you ask, taking his hand into yours. but he doesn’t respond.

“I love the two of you because we all bring out the best parts of eachother. we both know that taehyun enjoys taking the lead and being protective, that’s why we act childish with him, right?” he finally responds by nodding and letting out a soft hum. “even though we know he’s always right, and don’t tell him I admitted that..” you joke, making him break his facade and giggle with you before you continue, “you still let me be playful, and you always play along too. taehyun feels the same way too, y’know?” kai smiles, almost embarrassed at how easy it is for you to cheer him up.

“also, I don’t care how people see us in public. seriously, you’re so shy, it’s adorable. especially because you’re allll~ over me the second we get home.” you sing out, making him hide his face in a pillow before you gently take it away and cradle his face in your hands. leaning down, instead of kissing his face again, you press your lips against his. “my sunshine.” you coo. kai’s entire face is red at this point, but he doesn’t care because he’s so, so happy. in the midst of more kisses, you both fail to hear the sound of the front door unlocking.

“and what exactly am I interrupting here?” taehyun walks over with a soft smile on his face, hands carrying two large bags of food everyone was desperately waiting for.

“I thought you two were supposed to be eating candy, but instead you’re starting something else without me?” you reach out to slap his arm playfully, scolding him as kai’s face turns red again. “shush, thank you for bringing us food, tae. we didn’t end up eating any snacks!” you tell him proudly.

taehyun smiles. “thank you angels, now come eat.” he walks over to put the bags on the table. “huening, I got your favorite egg drop soup. hopefully it wont be too much for your stomach.”

you look back at kai and kiss his cheek one last time. “you okay?” you whisper. he smiles and gives you a kiss this time. “i’m perfect.” after eating dinner, everyone was satisfied. kai felt better, both physically and mentally, and spent the rest of the night squeezed between the two people he loved most.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (xi) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9 p10

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : a birthday, a bracelet, and brash decisions

warnings : angst(ish), fluffy, mentions of alcohol and weed, sort of proofread

mickey speaks : if you need a refresher on this series here's a little recap here; otherwise i hope you all enjoyyyyy!!!!

THIS IS PART ELEVEN, U SHOULD KNOW TO READ THE OTHERS FIRST BY NOW...

your rekindling with matt has become far from friendly very quickly.

after your fruitful trip to santa monica you were quickly back to regularly texting (and eventually touching) each other.

it's hard to forget the sight of matt, hair tussled after removing his hood and eyes distracted by your appeal as he breathlessly asked you to kiss him only a few weeks ago in the dark movie theater.

your eyes widened as you turned to face him and smirk through your mouthful of popcorn slowly, "what?" you whispered.

"want you to kiss me. please." his body language was so obviously frustrated by the distance that damn arm rest had put between you two. and frustrated by his crave for your taste ever since the pier.

your tongue began to poke into the back of your mouth to fight a kernel out of your hard molars, "matt- there's like people everywhere..." you'd lift yourself forward to glance around at the many heads facing the screen in front of you.

matt reached for your hand, bringing you back to him, "hey," he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "they won't mind... s'not like i'm gonna start moanin' and shit."

your smile grew and before you sunk any deeper into the seat you were reaching to meet his lips for a swift chaste kiss. just as you pulled away matt was quick to take hold of your neck and whisper "the fuck was that? give me a proper kiss, c'mon sunny" against your pursed lips.

and you did; you kissed him hard because you too had been holding back a yearn for this ever since the pier. you kissed him to tell him everything he'd been making you feel. with these flirty ass friendship dates he'd been taking you on- only he'd still be quick to defend them as nothing serious or more than friends.

but how could he when he's the one interrupting your friendship time for a kiss with chemistry that could never be twisted into some platonic bullshit?

it seems you're a full, hot air balloon and he's just far too scared of the heights you'll take him. unsure of giving up his own control for the rewarding views you'd share with him.

your heads bobbed as your faces moved as one. your eyes remained pinched shut when he finally backed away and wiped the corner of your full lips softly. "mmm, thanks," he'd breathe and peek his tongue out over his lips.

"thanks," you'd mock and giggle as you push his face away from you, taking a sip of your cherry red slushy to coat his addictive taste with a sugary sweetness on your tongue.

since that moment shared in the dark, there were plenty of secret kisses and heated fuckings whenever you'd both get the time alone. there was no trivial conversation to establish what exactly you both would be reengaging as; no points made about exclusivity, no confession of adoration, no signs of steadiness.

but you think matt makes up for this with the way he's been treating you. his shell gone a little soft and his demeanor all the more trusting.

you both avoid the erin thing. except for when you innocently sneak her name into your conversations just to see how his face may change or his lips may twitch, hiding a small smirk- but your intentions are never questioned by matt. and you can't tell if that's his way of communicating that erin is no longer on his radar or him allowing you settle in your ignorance. both options would drive you crazy if you're honest.

it took some self reflecting and ranting voice memos recorded alone in your car for you to forgive erin- you knew she did nothing truly unforgivable to you, but her comment calling you a bitch was the perfect catalyst for your resentment.

you wanted to use something as petty as that to cut her off- knowing you and matt were on speaking terms again and if you'd gotten with him officially, in some convoluted and fucked up way, you would escape any violation of a girl-code principle.

except you both are too good of friends to fall out due to something so silly (and you were completely delusional to think you could handle the thought of someone being mad at you that intensely). erin had texted you almost a week after the exchange, claiming to have missed you and wanting to meet for lunch.

luckily she didn't bring matt up, you'd probably spill your water all over your shirt and blow your cover completely. instead you both apologized and held a long conversation of catch up, interrupted by bites of tacos and scoops of salsa.

౨ৎ

you should have known andrea was dead serious when she’d told you that she’d make you a frozen strawberry margarita (her at-home specialty) as soon as the clock struck twelve on your birthday.

you both had a ball, drinking two margaritas in the span of an hour and dancing together in the kitchen while “in da club” by 50 cent plays repeatedly.

and you’d never have expected to be interrupted with a text from matt that you read while slurping the last of your drink:

MATT - 1:37 AM

Hey come downstairs rq I’m at ur place

Y/N - 1:37 AM

mmkay…….

“drea ill be right back… left something in my car,” your voice is distracted and your eyes are still on your phone as you drift towards your front door and slide into the closest pair of sandals lying by.

“okay? do you want me to come too?! it’s dark out.” she furrows her eyebrows and speaks through chews of strawberry.

MATT - 1:38 AM

So many dots ……. lol

MATT - 1:38 AM

Can you come here quicker 😘

a smile grows when the texts form on your screen, “um no i’ll be fine, it’ll be quick.” you open the door without further conversation, rushing down the first few flights of stairs before walking slowly down the final flight to catch your breath (not wanting matt to think you were in too much of a rush to see him).

your eyes find his figure quickly with the soft warm street lighting hitting him as he perches against the wall of your complex. when he sees you his face exposes a toothy grin as he tucks his phone away.

the closer you get the more giddy you feel. “hi matt,” you greet reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, connecting your bodies in a gentle hug. matt’s arms hold your waist and he breathes in your hair’s smell of sweet vanilla.

“mmm, hi sunny,” he pulls away first to cradle your face in his left palm, kissing your cheek then your lips. you move a hand to hold his wrist, smiling into the kiss and allowing matt to have a proper taste of the sugary margarita you were just sipping on.

you both pull away when the kiss gets too intense, matt breathes heavily as you wipe your mouth and smile up at him. “why’re you here?”

“well it’s your birthday… wanted to stop by and say hi and shit,” he licks over his teeth before returning a smile to you, he still keeps a hand on your waist running his fingers over your skin.

and his response makes your head spin. because, yes, of course matthew would think something like driving all the way to your house in the middle of the night just to “say hi” on your birthday is casual and would not fuck with a girl’s head. only he could so confidently trick himself (and you) into thinking like that.

he shrugs, looking at your mouth as he moves his thumb over your bottom lip for a second, “and i was already out, you know, your place was on my way home anyway.” there’s the cover up you were searching for. something, anything that he can pull out of his ass to remind you this is nothing romantic in the slightest.

you nod slightly as you adjust the small chain around his neck, his eyes still on you, “what were you possibly out doing this late?” you glance your eyes up to him then back to the necklace, “fucking around with whatever girl put you on to that little kissy-face emoji?”

matt laughs at your accusation, “damn, i’m a slut for using emojis now?!”

“you were a slut before the emojis,” you joke, “matt you’ve never used an emoji when texting me ever and it’s hard to believe you did that without some girl telling you it’s cute.”

matt reaches up to squish your cheeks together and gain your eye contact again, “hey you fuckin’ sunbum, you told me to start using emojis more. remember that? ‘cause they make everything funnier’” he uses air quotes when saying your words back to you.

he laughs when he sees the realization dawn on you, you push his hands away from your face. “okay, yeah that was me… and i stand by that!” you push him away to avoid laughing with him, “well, i guess i'll go back in my house now.” you dramatically sigh and back away.

“oh so you want me to give you your gift tomorrow?”

“gift? oh matt how you spoil me,” you gawk, adding a posh accent along the way.

“mhm, c’mere it’s in my car,” he begins to walk away and you follow. you lean against the car as he opens his door and looks for the present.

eventually matt’s head peeks out, “might be better if you just come in here too.”

“is your gift sex? we both know that’s all that would come from me getting in that car matt…”

matt's eyes get wide at your suggestion and he chuckles a bit as he shuts the door. he then moves to enclose you against his car and kiss you, giving you an out of breath confession throughout: “i like when you’re” kiss, “tipsy and just say” kiss, “like, the most direct shit.” kiss.

“i like it when you come to my house in the middle of the night just to kiss me.”

“mm yeah, i like it when we’re alone and you start talkin’ to me about the most random shit just because,” matt feels so comfortable with you at times like this. when it feels like you two are in your own bubble that cannot be popped.

“i bet you do,” you smile, enjoying his ability to make you giddy. “did you get your hair cut?” you draw your hands through his hair softly.

matt scrunched his face the slightest bit, “like, the tiniest trim. that’s crazy you noticed though.”

“it looks nice.”

“thank you.”

“can i have my gift now?”

matt’s immediately scrambling to grab the gift from his pocket. he presents it to you, placing the small box in your hand.

“oh god, what the fuck did you get me?” you pull the top off and see a bracelet lying on top of a layer of black foam.

“it’s an italian charm bracelet,” he watches you glance and feel over the silver bracelet, “fuckin’ sick, huh?”

“thank you,” you turn it over and your stomach falls sick at the sight of a frank ocean lyric engraved into the metal: i been thinking bout you.

matt continues to talk as you process, “yeah, and we can try to find more charms for some of the empty slots.”

you nod and ask him to put it on you. once it clasps he looks to you, “do you like it?”

“yeah, of course i do. thank you so much matt,” you try not to get emotional about it, instead distracting the both of you with a kiss that lasts for far too long matt pulls back with your hands still holding his face not too far from your own. “hi," you prompt him to say something rather than just look into your eyes.

he smiles, "hi. i gotta get home soon. it’s past my bed time and you know i live with two patrol dogs- probably barking in my phone right now.”

you laugh softly, “yeah, i know. i need to go to sleep too, andrea’s probably sending out missing persons reports. but i'll see you at my dinner tomorrow night, right?”

“yes ma’am.”

“perfect,” you hug him once more before you both unravel from each other. you watch as he gets into his car and when you walk away he starts signaling you to come back by flashing his bright headlights then waving you over.

he rolls his window down and you lean against it, “forgot to say ‘goodnight’ to the pretty birthday girl,” he whispers to you making you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“goodnight matt,” you reciprocate, trying not to turn into mush with how his eyes are admiring your entire face so unapologetically.

“and one more kiss for the road?”

you agree with a nod and allow him to peck you one last time, "m'kay bye matt, be good!"

౨ৎ

you shut your front door slowly and turn around to see andrea giggling, sipping another margarita as she plays with your car keys.

“you made another marg without me?” you call out.

“i had all the time in the world up here might as well,” she continues to sip and spin your keys.

“mmm, yeah ‘m sorry i took so long,” you begin to look through your fridge for any snacks when it clicks for you.

“that’s okay,” she picks up her straw and sucks some of her drink from the bottom of the straw, “i’m sure it was hard to find what ever you left without your keys.”

your change in demenor gives away everything.

“so were you just never gonna tell me you’re with matt?”

you turn around and she stops spinning the keys around her finger abruptly. “drea…”

she laughs, “no, no it’s fine. i mean, i definitely thought we told each other everything but- how long have you two been together?”

you move closer to her spot on the couch, “we’re not together.”

her eyes about fall out of her skull, “what the fuck do you mean you’re not together?! that makes it worse! if what i saw said anything it was you two are the most together ‘not together’ people i’ve ever met.”

“what all did you see?” you throw your head into a pillow on the couch.

“well when i realized you left your keys i went downstairs to bring you them but then i’m down there and immediately see you two kissing and holding onto each other like he’d just been at war for years-”

you visibly cringe and andrea shakes her head, “no i think it’s cute. i was just shocked, thinking i was imagining shit. i had to just turn around and come back up here. i hope you’re proud you know it’s hard for me to hold my tongue, i was ready to fucking scream.”

you hold the pillow your face was resting on, “i’m so proud of you.”

“… so i need some context please.” she offers you a sip of her drink.

you take a large sip from the straw before responding, "we just y'know... fuck around. he's very sure that there's nothing serious between us so. yeah."

"i'm sorry what? he told you that? and you, the most lovable bitch i know, are okay with that shit?!"

you reach for her drink and sip some more as she speaks and nodding your head along, "yes, unfortunately. but i'm, like, fine. i know i can't change him and if i can only have him like this then i'll take what i can get." andrea looks a little lost and baffled by your words. as if you'd just spoke an entirely different language.

"dre i know i sound desperate and stupid as fuck but i think that's exactly what i am at this point..."

she silently moves closer to you, wrapping her arms around you for a tight hug, "y/n you're so smart, just blinded right now by an idiot man of a crush. i can't believe you hid all of this- you haven't even spoke kindly about this man since like april. rem and i thought his mega ego turned you off his ass."

you giggle through another sip and begin to shake your head slowly, "nope... his evilness reeled me in and got me bad."

andrea laughs, "clearly you horny bitch! wow, you've held out on me so much- i need to know details."

you nod and begin to pull yourslef from the couch, heading over to the kitchen, "i'm gonna need us to start blending more drinks to get through all this shit."

౨ৎ

"hey, yeah, we're here with the party?" matt inquires to the host, lifting the small giftbag as if he needed to provide proof.

"great, they should be right down the hall and out in the patio section."

"thanks," matt dryly replies, walking towards chris and tugging his shoulder. "'s this way."

chris follows matt with a nod and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jean shorts. his face brightens immediately when approaching the full table, "hey guys what's up?!" as everyone welcomes them to he stops by andrea's seat, wrapping an arm around her lovingly and asking her how she's been. he seals their interaction with a forehead kiss before moving on to the chair next to her and greeting you with a 'happy birthday' and soft shoulder squeeze.

"what took you guys so long?" remi asks.

"i would give details but already we had a whole debacle during the car ride and matt's still a little sensitive about it," chris snickers while he takes a seat next to matt, giving him a lighthearted clap on the back.

matt begins to sarcastically laugh to himself, "alright chill out bud."

"hey, it's probably best if you both just shut the fuck up and eat some of this pasta i got. here." nick suggests, moving his plate of scraps between them.

౨ৎ

your dinner was as perfect as it could be.

you enjoyed your food quite a bit and having your friends all together is always something you cherish. you were happy to have gotten to speak with everyone in attendance even if your gaze continued to make its way back to matt, who was usually looking at you as well.

after experiencing the full restaurant staff's loud birthday chant (which only you, andrea, and remi seemed to enjoy and sing along with), you all made your way back to your shared apartment to eventually end the night.

the apartment is loud. music screaming out of speakers and voices speaking over each other. and amongst all of the ruckus andrea sends you on a mission to gather guests orders (she's taken it upon herself to play bartender for the night).

"nickk," you string out the syllables in his name as you practically lie on top of him when squeezing yourself onto his beanbag.

"y/nn" he returns the tone of voice.

"what do you wanna drink?" you click your purple glitter pen with enthusiasm and flip onto a random page in an abandoned notebook you'd just found in your closet.

"hhmmm," he rubs over his chin and pinches his eyes, "let me get your specialty- as long as its sweet. you know i hate hate hate that bitter shit!"

"yes diva, i will get you something so sweet and soooo special, don't you even worry." you write down 'nicky - sweet special'

you approach everyone, making your list of drinks along the way, before eventually nearing matt. he's slouched on the couch, phone in hand while taking long drags from asha's pen.

you place each of your hands on his knees and lean close to ask him what he'd like to drink. he smiles at first and drops his phone on his stomach as he sits up to be at level with you. "i want whatever you've had tonight. how the fuck are you tipsy already?"

you laugh, "it's my birthday, i ask the questions."

"okay but pregaming dinner is crazy," his face crinkles a bit as he laughs.

you roll your lips into your mouth realizing just how close you are to his face and feeling the smallest inkling to crawl onto matt's lap and kiss him right here.

he feels it too. especially with you leaning over him and your tits threatening to spill out of that tight dress. he just lets out a breath and reaches for your notebook and pen next to him, writing his order down for you.

just as he goes to speak again there's a knock against your door.

"y/n can you get that! i hope it's not one of our neighbors..." andrea exclaims while turning down the music.

matt's shocked by how quickly your warm hands leave his legs and you're off to answer the front door. you peer through the peep-hole and laugh, "oh my god, it's lucas!" you unlock and open the door.

"happy fucking birthday!" he pulls you in for a side hug and squeezes the fullest part of your hip as you smile against his chest that smells faintly of weed and warm amber. "what's up girl, how was dinner?" he feathers a small kiss to the top of your head and grins as you begin to overly explain every part of your birthday.

matt thinks lucas showing up to your after party is weird and bizarre as fuck. he never realized you were close with him, because when and why do you have time to talk to some pothead goof like him? and why's he holding onto you so much? and why are you so fucking happy about it?

matt bites at his bottom lip harshly, as he stares. he can only let this go on for so long before he's making his way across the room to redirect you. he and lucas make eye contact first, lucas quips his head, "heyy matt!"

"hey, man." man shortly replies with a fake smile, then looks to you, "you gonna get those drinks for your guests?" he raises the notebook.

your eyes widen, "oh shit- i totally forgot." you pull yourself from lucas to grab the notebook, thanking matt before suggesting lucas follow you so that he can get a drink and put the bottle of tequila he brought in the freezer.

matt internally twitches his eyes, but externally tightens his lips and walks away from the abandoned spot.

౨ৎ

with everyone two shots and two drinks drunker, the karaoke machine is put to use; you and andrea are now sexy dancing in the living room as asha sings a rendition "london bridge" by fergie.

nick of course sings adlibs and absolutely hollers whenever one of you drop yourselves low enough. its a miracle you haven't received a noise complaint yet.

as for matt, he's decided to play into erin's interest due to his lack of entertainment from you. he's looking deeply in her eyes, playing with her fingers, glancing down at her lips. you see it all; only you're the type to bitterly down a shot while watching from afar or whisper a sly comment into andrea's ear in the middle of dancing (to which andrea motions her finger into her mouth as if to gag at matt's actions).

you've yet to confront him, instead letting him waste his time with her.

౨ৎ

two hours after everyone agreed to go to bed, you're woken up by a few taps on your shoulder and whispers of your name.

"please- 'm tired..." you whine into your pillow.

you feel a kiss to your shoulder that draws you to at least peek your eye open. and of course matt is there- shaggy hair and shirt left somewhere in your living room.

the soft glow of your yellowed night light hits him enough for you to recognize every part of him, "matt." is all you huff before turning over.

"yeah? hey, can i be in here with you? for a sec" his voice stays at a whisper as he softly begins to move you over, "come on sunny, why y'bein' stubborn?"

you sigh and lift your head up, keeping your eyes shut as you allow your words to come out louder than you mean, "why were you flirtin' with her?!"

"shhhh! you're loud as fuck. stop it." matt's made his way under your comforter and his audacity is pissing your drunk brain off.

you pettily kick at his side and push his chest until he lifts himself up, "ow! what the fuck y/n?"

"matt why are you in here? go to sleep."

"you want me to go?"

"yeah, if you want to be holding up on erin you can go lay with her on that couch, right?"

"that's not what happened but whatever." matt shakes his head slowly and wipes a hand over his face.

"no. it's not 'whatever' matt! you were selfish. it's my fucking birthday i expected at least a little more respect from you- but clearly i'm nothing but a bird bitch to you or something."

"you know that's not how i think of you."

"do i?"

he sits closer to you, "no matter what i'm your friend at the end of the day."

if only he knew that's exactly what you'd hate to hear from him right now, "okay."

"okay."

you hold your head for a few moments before lying down and tugging the comforter over your body once more, "i don't feel like talking about this shit right now, matt. can you just come here and kiss me please?"

he nods silently, moving as close as possible so you both can kiss each other to sleep.

lil insta blurb for this chapter! (you dont need to see this for plot info)

taglist -★

@deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybab @starrysturniolo @st7rnioioss @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @tcvazq @novasturniolo03 @sturnsintrouble @sturnrc @wovenribbons @watercolorskyy @imsosillygoofylol @sturnrc @wh0resstuff @peachmels @udonknowmeh12 @solaceinwritings @h3arts4harry @imaslutforwhitemen @lovingregulusblack @sturnsintrouble @rxeae

[dreamersdreamdreams]

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ cheater ˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚

content type: angst and smut (minors do not interact)

warnings: cheating, choking, murder, broken bones

key: b/n = boss’s name, f/n = work friend’s name

----------♡----------

The skyscraper runs miles above you. You walk through its automatic doors only to see f/n holding two coffees. “How are you y/n,” he greets happily.

“I am well, how are you?”

“I am great now that you're here,” he teases. You grab your coffee with an eye-roll. Both of you enter the elevator to the top floor where you both work. You sit down at your desk. Your friend leans up against your desk as you start to chat. When you see your boss come out from his office you quickly shove f/n off your desk. He gives you a smirk before heading off to his own desk. “I need those papers we talked about yesterday,” he says flatly. “Of course, sir,” you say with a shaking voice. You lightly knock on your boss’s large oak door. “Come in,” he states in his usual strict tone. “Hello, sir.” He gives you a smirk. “How are you, my love?” Your head tilts towards the floor with a blush painting your face. B/n hired you as his assistant a year ago. It was scandalous to be in a relationship with your boss, yet you have been secretly dating each other for half that time. You quickly mumble out, “I have the papers you needed.” You go to set the big pile of papers down but they slam onto the table with a loud bang as you're suddenly pulled by your top. “You know better than to ignore me, my dear,” he says threateningly. You're about to speak when he drops your top from his hands. A knock can be heard from behind the door to his office. Your head turns to the door. “Go grab us some dinner, will you?” he says in an annoyed tone. You look back with a nod. You open the door to find another woman standing there. It was b/n’s new secretary. You move out of the way to let her pass and she walks past you with a sugary sweet smile on her face. You had already ordered food knowing b/n would be hungry. You get in the elevator to retrieve the food from the ground floor. The food is sitting outside the automatic doors to the grand office. You quickly pick it up, as you were too afraid to be out this late at night alone. You enter back into the office from the elevator as loud sounds fog your brain. Your feet tiptoe towards the origin of the sound. Your ear pulls in the sounds while it is pressed up against the door. You know those grunts. What you know even better is that the obnoxious moans coming from inside weren't yours. Tears begin to fall down your face. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” b/n says to the unknown girl inside. “Ooo~, daddy,” the girl whimpers. Your shaking hands grab at the handle to b/n’s office. Against better judgment, you open the door. The image in front of you may be blurred but the picture is clear. Your boyfriend fucking another girl over his desk. The same place he had ordered you to come so many times just to ruin your body. B/n looks up at you and his expression turns blank. For only a minute he holds your gaze. He wraps his hands around the secretary’s neck and pulls her up to his chest. She still didn’t see you. She was probably too lost in what felt like heaven, to be fucked by such a powerful and rich man. That is what you always felt at least. He continues the scene like he was on shoot. Your frozen body moves so softly you feel as though you will fall to the floor like a feather. You quietly close the door and slowly walk to the stairs to avoid making any noise. Once you got outside you threw away the evidence that you were ever there. You let him live his fantasy. The cold wind hits your face and the tears flow again. At this point, the darkness was your only friend. You decided to call f/n to pick you up as he was the only person who knew about your situation. He comes right away, no questions asked, after hearing your pained sobs. You quickly get into his car. “What happened, y/n,” he asks worriedly. “B/n cheated on me,” you say in a hushed tone. He grabs your hand.

“I am so sorry.”

“Thank you,” you whisper with no expression on your face. You both sit in silence and darkness inside his car.

“I can help you.” He speaks up. “What,” you question.

“Let me take your mind off this.”

You look at him. Your blank expression piercing him. “Okay,” you say breathlessly, tears falling off your cheeks once more. “Please don't cry, I just want to take care of you” he lets out softly as he wipes your wet face. He grabs a fistful of your hair and drags you in for a kiss. Your lips follow his. It's not that you didn’t still love b/n but you were willing to whore yourself out to feel anything but what you were feeling moments before. You can't move your own body but you are able to follow his lead. He picks you up swiftly and places you on his lap. His hands move your hips to his thrusts. He rips your clothes from your body, growing impatient. You knew he wanted you for a while now. The way he stared at you and your body day after day. You were going to let him use you. At least one of you could be happy. He whips out his cock. He lifts you up and without warning slams you down onto him. You scream out loud. That was the first sound that managed to come out of your mouth all night. He kept slamming harder and harder to rip more sounds out of you. Your pussy was being abused. It felt good though, being used for nothing but your body made you feel something.

It takes you a week to return to work. You wanted to quit but you needed the money. You get out of your taxi to see f/n waiting for you outside. You rush out of the car.

“What are you doing? It is freezing out here!”

“I didn't think you would want to walk in alone,” he says as he hands you your coffee.

“Thank you, for everything.”

He smiles and wraps his hand around your waist. Maybe he thought you were his now. You didn’t care though. Even if b/n saw him holding you, you would be fine with it. Happy even because you were just a petty bitch. B/n secretary greets you when you walk out of the elevator. She clearly still knew nothing. You both greet her with the fakest smiles you can manage. F/n walks you over to your desk and you sit down. You guys chat like you normally do before work starts. Then, b/n walks out from his office and straight towards your desk. “Meet me in my office, now,” he snapped. He walks towards his office only to turn around and see f/n giving you a quick kiss. He storms to his office and waits at the open door. You walk inside and he slams the door closed. “The fuck was that,” he shouts. “What?” you question, playing dumb for the hell of it. He storms up to you and pins you up against the wall, slamming your back against the wall in the process. “What the hell, b/n,” you yell, hitting his chest to get him off of you.

“Don’t play fucking dumb, I know you let that son of a bitch fuck you!”

“How the fuck do you know about that?”

“I saw you guys in the car dumbass or did you forget there were still people at the office.”

“Of course I didn't forget, not after what I saw,” you sobbed.

“Oh who gives a fuck about that, you cheated on me too.”

You stare at him with anger filling your body.

“I slept with him after you cheated. We were already done at that point.”

“We are not done, y/n,” he laughed.

“Do you need me to fucking say it to your face, dumbass? We. Are. Done!”

A slap echoes throughout his office. You immediately look up at him in shock with your hand holding your cheek. Before any words can come out of you, you hear a knock at the door.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

You hear f/n. You rush to the door, able to escape b/n when he took his arm off of you to slap you. You open the door, and f/n sees you sobbing and holding your cheek.

“What the hell did you do to her?!”

“I would recommend you get back to work f/n.”

“You just hurt your employee, don't act like your the boss now!”

“You’re fired! Leave now before you regret it,” b/n shouts.

“That’s fine, but I am taking y/n with me because she quits too.”

As f/n grabs you to guide you out of the office, you hear a loud crack. You don't know what happened but you feel yourself falling to the floor. Then, you feel arms wrap around you, keeping you up. You look towards where you were falling and see f/n lying on the ground in a pile of blood. His body looked lifeless in front of you as his neck was smashed. Adrenaline fills your veins and you make a run for the door. Due to your speed, the leg that trips you snapped your own leg. You begin to shriek out in pain but your mouth is covered by a large hand. B/n joins you on the floor.

“Have you learned your lesson, cheater?”

[mrsnancywheeler]

the river (6) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

previous chapter

masterlist

7.1k words

warnings: hurt/comfort, smut, angst, fluff, arguments, a wedding, pnv, unprotected sex, f receiving fingering, he doesn't pull out, cursing, allusions to trafficking, paranoia, violence, mentions of death, suicidal ideation, self-hate, dount, mentions of pregnancy but she's not pregnant, distrust, brainwashing, mentions of Snow, unedited, no use of y/n

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You looked so beautiful, so angelic, so unspeakably alluring standing in front of him in your borrowed dress. Never had he felt more excited than when he'd realized this was in fact the day you would become not just his wife in spirit, but legally, Mrs. Odair. The way you'd so delicately smiled up at him made him feel like his grin was more like that of a mad man, and maybe he was. Madly in love, madly obsessed, madly in need to spend the rest of his life with you. He needed the revolution to be over so he could have a billion kids that looked just like you, that laughed like you did, and smiled like you did. How soft your fingers felt when they brushed his lips with salt water was addicting just as it was when his fingers did the same to your lips. He felt blindly dazed by your smile as you recited the vows, Finnick barely remembered that there were cameras around.

Your genuine happiness was something he had come to miss, yet here it was once again. The feeling that made all the rough times worth weathering the storm, how unequivocally enamored of you he was with each smile and sweet word. Your sugary repetition of what the officiant said eventually waned, Coin had insisted on less flowery vows to keep the event concise, but that was okay because he'd spilled his heart before. It also helped that now he wasn't sure he'd be able to form any coherent proclamations of love when looking at you put him into a stupor.

“I, Finnick Odair, take you as my wife from this day forward. Together or apart, we will always be united. One life, one purpose, one destiny.” He'd never get sick of the way you were looking at him right now, like that same girl from the market that he'd approached all those years ago who was joyously stunned that Finnick Odair would even talk to her.

“You may kiss the bride." The officiant announced and Finnick had never been more pleased for his lips to touch yours. The salty and peachy taste that lingered on your lips that he adored, compounded with the sound of the children's choir beginning to sing, a confirmation that his official voyage with you had really begun. Ever so slowly he pulled away to gaze at you further.

“Hi." You whispered softly through your perfect smile.

“We're married." He whispered back, the giddy smile almost hurt, but he couldn't make himself stop. “Like actually married."

You nodded with a light laugh, "Yeah, we are!” The words left you so breathily before you'd kissed him once again and he wanted to drown in your lips. His mind seemed to echo the same words over and over again, a never ending stream. She's actually my wife. She's so happy and pretty and my wife. My wife. The way you danced and laughed was exhilarating, this was the you that the Capitol had chipped away at making a glorious appearance. You could have another breakdown tomorrow, but right now you shone brighter than the sun and it was all that mattered. It wasn't home, there was no sea breeze in the air, there had been no net to cover you both, or sending the couple off in a boat at the end for farewells. It wasn't even the spring time wedding you'd once whispered about on late nights, but it seemingly was exactly what you both needed.

Your feet had only stopped moving once the cake was rolled out, glorious in its waves of blue frosting. It truly left him amazed in the attention to detail of each sea creature so delicately placed. “Oh, it's perfect." You muttered, squeezing his hand.

Finnick nodded in agreement, “It's amazing." It was the closest to home as either of you could get, he ached to be able to know he'd be carrying you over the threshold of a tiny cottage by the sea, but he couldn't until this was all over. Until they'd won. So the cake would have to be sufficient enough and in the joy, it was. Especially when you so carefully fed him a bite of it, blue staining his teeth as he took the bite. Before the blue and green had just as equally begun to stain your lips when he did the same, and it made him feel so young again. A kid who'd eaten too many colored sweets.

Eventually the propo had to come to an end and with it, the fun and dancing. But his happiness didn't subside, even if it was no traditional reception of dancing all night, at least he could carry you through the door of the compartment and be with you for eternity.

“Hello, Mrs. Odair." He'd whispered after carefully placing you on the floor of the shared room.

“Hello, Mr. Odair." You responded absentmindedly, eyes so loving as your fingers played with his hair.

“We're actually married, officially married, forever and ever and ever."

“Yeah." You glowed, all of you was so bright. “Don't get cold feet on me now."

"Never.” He affirmed, kissing you again.

"Good because I'm rather attached.” He smirked and quickly pulled you back into his lips. Slowly, but surely your lips attacked him more feverishly, with more passion. It had been so long, but it was a feeling he missed so much, until your fingers had slidden down to the buttons of his jacket, where some sort of panic permeated his happiness. He longed for you more than he'd even let himself ponder, but he couldn't risk it when you were still at risk of a meltdown at any turn. So reluctantly he pulled away.

“Angel, what are you doing?"

He missed the cooling feeling of your skin the moment you pulled contact away and hated how embarrassed you suddenly looked. “I'm sorry, I should have asked, Finnick. If you don't want to, I won't.”

His hands reached out to assure you otherwise and caress the side of your head. “No, no, sweet girl, that's not it. You're all good."

For a moment you seemed relieved before the confusion seemed to settle back in. “Then what's wrong?” Finnick sighed, how could he tell you he was terrified that you'd have a mid-thrust mental breakdown that threw you into some kind of terrified hysteria? He sat down on the bed, preparing himself for the hole he was digging himself into. At the very least, talking to you about it now was leagues better than going along until you cracked.

“Honey, I just don't think it's a good idea."

“Oh, okay." Shit. He always ruined everything. You'd been so open and happy all day only for your voice to slightly break with a speck of insecurity. You were so sweet with the way you'd move on to pretend it didn't upset you somewhat and find something else to do.

“Not because I don't want you, trust me I do." The words tumbled out of his mouth as fast as he could form them to try and reassure you.

“If you want to, then what's stopping us? I do too."

"Honey, come here.” He patted down on the bed and you sat, carefully he grabbed your hands, hoping his warmth would provide some sort of comfort. “I just think maybe we should wait until you're feeling like there's less of a chance that you'll get scared when we're in the middle of something.

"I'm not gonna get scared, Finn, I want this.”

"You're not right now, but say you get hit with those thoughts that say I want you dead, which I don't, and I'm on top of you. That'd be scary for you.”

"I haven't had an episode for a couple weeks.” Your head turned to stare at the wall in front of you.

"You haven't had a major one and I'm so proud of you for that, but you've had some small ones. I don't want one getting bigger because of the circumstances.” Your hands pulled away from his, covering your face where stray tears must have begun to fall. “Hey, no, don't cry. I'm just trying to look out for you."

“I make everything so difficult, I'm sorry."

“No you don't, it's all okay."

Quiet sniffles filled the room before you laid your hands back down on your lap to look at him. “Finnick, I get you're worried about me and I love that about you. But I could freak out waking up in the middle of the night or when we're just cuddling. I want this, I want you, and if the worst happens then it happens and we cross that bridge, but I'm really sick of letting it control me.” He wanted you too, he'd felt guilty for any fantasies he'd had of you, but he had missed every part of you beyond belief.

“I just don't want to do anything you might not be able to handle, I'd need you to constantly communicate with me, so I know you're okay."

“I will, I promise."

You were so ethereal, he hated that it made parts of him throb when his brain had already found another dilemma. “I don't think they've got birth control here, or at least we don't have any."

“That's okay, I don't care." No, he couldn't do that to you. How could you handle being pregnant in the midst of everything else?

“It's not a good idea, angel."

“Why? We'll win the war soon and be back home." He wished it was that simple, but poor you having an episode would only complicate things.

“Honey, I just don't think you're ready right now."

“You're?" Fuck. Why the fuck would he say that.

“I meant to say we. We're not ready." Why was he so stupid? How could he manage to be trying to protect you so hard that he caused an episode instead? He'd have to brace himself for the mess he was causing.

“You’re lying to me. Why am I not ready?”

What he'd give for this blip to be over, to be at the point where there could just be children without all the worry about your health. "It's our wedding night, let's not argue. Let's go to bed, I'll read to you.”

But your walls were slightly raised and he could feel it as you stood up. "I wasn't trying to argue, I was trying to consummate the marriage. And instead of just saying you weren't feeling it right now and letting us move on, you said you thought I'd be a bad mom.”

"That's not what I said, don't put words in my mouth.” He said it too sharply and instantly regretted it.

“Then what are you saying, Finnick?” He despised the fact that he was only confusing you more when he was supposed to be letting you know what was real and what wasn't. The stress in your voice was evident as your arms protectively crossed around your body, foot tapping.

“That I don't think this is a good time for a baby, we should jump over a few more hurdles first." Finnick stood up, desperate to touch you, to soothe you. Trying to hide how mortified he was that regardless of all the talk he could still feel himself straining against his pants. “I just didn't say it right, I'm sorry, sweet girl."

"If you don't want to have sex that's fine, but stop trying to come up with excuses.”

"Angel, I do, I'm just…I've gotten so focused on trying not to set anything off that I've started planting the thoughts instead." He should be stronger, more able to read you so that he wasn't the one instigating the thoughts. Instead he was becoming overly paranoid himself, he hated the idea that he could need care when he was finally trying to care for his girl. “What I meant was, I think we should wait until the war is over for certain, so I'll just pull out." Slowly he approached you, hands softly urging your arms to uncross.

He could feel the way you began melting into his touch and it made him feel whole again. "Do you actually want to? I don't want you to feel like you have too because I'm in a mood.” Your eyes glistened with a sincerity that warmed his heart as your arms succumbed to his movements.

"Wanna make my sweet girl feel better, want to make it up to her.” He could basically hear your heart pounding and he loved that you still got somewhat flustered.

“You're absolutely sure though, right? This isn't just you-" His lips on yours cut off the further listings of any anxieties. Free hands searching for the zipper on the back of the dress as he quickly slid it down. He only pulled away long enough to make sure the dress had successfully become a pool at your ankles before his lips were on your chest. “Finnick?" Your voice snapped his head from his assault to look at you, who looked so sheepish to say anything at all. “Can that wait? I'm just… you know.”

With a smirk he raised his head, makitsure to stand fully back up as he looked at you. "You're just what, angel?”

"Finn, you know.” Your fingers messed with his jacket sleeves as you avoided his gaze.

Softly he pecked you on the lips,"Communication.” Another quick peck, "Need you to say it for me.”

"Finny, please don't be mean.” Fuck. Pulling out that nickname ever so sugary sweetly made him want to cave, to get straight onto taking care of you for life. “Already spent all that time arguing."

"Not being mean, angel, we just have to practice using our words.” You lifted his hand to your face, touching the heat of it to your face, which was oddly hot already considering how cold your hand was, per usual.

Your breath fanned across his hand as you quietly gave the confession, “Been aching for you all day, Finn."

“All day?" His hands moved to slowly unhook your bra, “Waited so well for me." The way you needed to just be coddled and taken care of was evident, he wanted nothing more than to love on you any way that he could. He let the bra fall to the wayside so his fingers could focus on how soaked your panties had become. “Can tell you've been waiting." It had been so long it was no wonder you were shy under his gaze. “Gonna make it better, show you how sorry I am." He could fall into the endless depths of your eyes that drew him in and fall forever with a smile on his face.

“I love you." The way you said it so tenderly made his heart skip a beat, he couldn't help but smile and place a small kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I love you, sweet girl.” Your fingers slipped up to continue the unbuttoning of his jacket which fell into a pile on the floor.

“Are you sure-"

“Yes, I'm sure." Finnick tried to back up this assurance through his eyes, hoping you could read through the depths of his soul. He slid his shirt off and you nodded, a signal that you had accepted what he said as truthful. Your fingers had settled on the button of his pants which you'd slowly undone as he stood there in utter awe of just you, all of you. He stepped out of his pants and boxers, leaving you on a nearly even playing ground. His fingers made their way to your hips, to the hem of your underwear to start pulling them down and the way your skin was so cold was startling. You'd always been freezing to the touch, but it made him feel guilty that you'd been stripped of any warmth besides his fingertips. “You're basically shivering, angel."

“You're burning up, so I'll be okay." It was true, the way your body temperatures aides the others had felt like another way you were made for each other. So slowly he'd pulled the panties off your body until they hit the floor as everything else had. Without another word your lips had crashed onto his which he used as an opportunity to slowly guide you towards the bed while you were lost in the feeling of his lips. He laid you down as your hand on the back of his neck dragged him down with you.

He took the opportunity to slide his fingers into your core and reveled in the feeling of you moaning into his mouth. A sound he hadn't heard in so long that it rang in his ears like music, a symphony that he could listen to for days. “You're so perfect." He muttered through the seconds you pulled away for air. You laughed breathlessly, shaking your head, “Yes you are." Finnick reiterated, thumb finding your clit causing another moan into his mouth the moment your lips had reattached to his. “Melodic to my ears angel, so perfect." Your hands tugged at his hair and he couldn't suppress the groan that came out.

"Love you so much, Finn.” The way you talked through the whimpers every time he added more pressure to your bundle of nerves made him an obsessive man. Your lips had become swollen from your prevalent addiction to his mouth, but you didn't seem to care, whining when he pulled his head just out of reach, trying to tug him back down.

He began thrusting his fingers in faster, mesmerized, as he always was and would be, by the way your face contorted with pleasure. “Love you too, angel, love my wife so much." In his daze of fascination you were able to pull his face back towards your own, fingers knotting in his hair.

Your voice was airy as you smiled softly through small whines,"Your wife.” He felt the clear heat your face exuded when he pressed his forehead to yours, it felt like your souls were one.

"My beautiful, perfect, gorgeous wife.” Your lips raised just enough to steal another peck from him as he kept rubbing harsh circles onto your clit. For a while he became enraptured just by your sounds, he didn't know how long had passed as he took in every small whimper to the loudest moans that you tried to cover.

“Oh my god, Finn!" You writhed slightly, a tell-tale sign of how near you were to release.

"You close, sweet girl? You gonna come for me?” He does his fingers up, as well as the intensity of his circles. Lips meeting yours once again as you nodded, eyes scrunching closed.

“So, so close." He began kissing at your neck, beguiled by the somehow lingering smell of the ocean on your skin.

"Come on, you can let go for me, sweet girl.” His kisses trailed down to your chest once again, utterly addicted to leaving the lingering feeling of his lips wherever he could. Upon your release the climactic end of the symphony blessed his ears and he was certain that if it was somehow possible, it had certainly made him harder. "So good for me." He slid his fingers out of you, the need to taste you winning when he brought them to his mouth.

“Need you inside, Finny, please." Your hands lead his face back close enough to kiss as you tried to catch your breath.

“You sure you're ready, angel?” You nodded eagerly, legs lifting to cross around his torso, pulling him closer.

“Yeah. Are you?" Your voice was so sugary sweet and addictive, every part of you was, if he died he was sure every part of you would consume his senses first.

“Yeah." His hand moved to softly caress your face, moving small strands of hair that had begun sticking to it away. Carefully he lined himself up with your entrance, stroking your cheek before he slowly pushed himself in. The sounds of both of your moans mixed in the air, intertwined as your bodies were. “Feel so good, angel. Fits so perfectly, you were made for me, we were made for each other." It was true, he wouldn't be complete without you. He'd gone his whole life needing nothing more than you, in every sense of the way, you fit one another flawlessly. He felt so sensitive that he was scared he might already be on his way to the climax, which he only dreaded because of how close he felt to you when he was in the warmth of your walls. That you were as close as you possibly could be, yet he still longed to be nearer.

“Faster, please?" It was nearly incoherent as you babbled through your whines, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, as if you were still somehow trying to pull him in further. He happily obeyed your plea and sped up his ministrations, thrusting through his own climbing pleasure as he moaned. “Missed you so much, Finn. Can't live without you, you're-" Your own moans interrupted your train of thought and you took a moment to regain some type of verbal composure. “Only ever wanted you, only needed you. Meant to be." He was able to decipher your proclamations through the whines and over the sound of his own noises, it brought him ten times closer to feel so basked by your love.

“Not gonna let anyone hurt you ever again, I'm gonna take such good care of my wife. Promise." The security you both needed, that you both ached for and could only be guaranteed once the reign of Snow had toppled entirely. You looked ethereal, your face scrunched up with each noise you made, hair splayed out around you, eyes glazed over with adoration and pleasure. He was so hypnotized by the way love seemed to have filled every crevice of the room and whisped around that he barely even registered that he was at the very top of his climax. He'd let go at what felt so suddenly that he'd simply thrusted further inside of you as you moaned at your own release. It wasn't until the thrill had mostly passed that he remembered his own fears. “Shit, shit, shit.” He muttered as he pulled out of you completely.

You sat up almost instantaneously and he could feel the panic radiating off of you. "What, are you okay?”

You were so sweet. "Yeah, I'm fine, sweet girl. I just…" He trailed off, staring at you, wide-eyed, anxious to help at any indication something was wrong. For years, nearly a decade he had loved you, something that somehow seemed to be constantly, rapidly increasing. Besides all the troubles you'd both endured he knew there was nothing he would trade any of it for if he knew he could have you and now that life you both yearned for was just in grasp. Finnick had and would dedicate every second he could to sustaining that dream and keeping you afloat, and if he could do that, he could do the same if you did get pregnant. He sighed and leaned closer to you, “Nevermind, angel, just didn't pull out, but it's okay. We're so close to freedom I can taste it and I want a family with you so bad. Finally going to be able to have our perfect little family and perfect little life." He crawled into the bed near you, kissing your face.

“You really want a family with me?" Your eyes were wide with an adorable hope, like you hadn't really accepted that he really wanted to be with you. He scoffed like the doubt was ridiculous.

“Of course I want a family with you, my sweet girl, I married you." He pulled you as close as he could get you, foreheads pressed together once again, making his heart buzz with contentment.

You smiled before looking for reassurance once again, which he was happy to deal out. “And you're gonna stay with me, right? Never gonna be a part or split up again?"

With all the sincerity possible he caresses your face again, “Never gonna leave you again, I promise, angel." You were blissfully pleased with his answer and kissed him once again.

But maybe Snow was right, even if it was unintentional, Finnick Odair was a liar and he in some ways resented himself for it. Yet it felt like there was nothing else for him to do when weeks later he found out about the squad Coin was putting together and he was absolutely certain that regardless of the shared training, the promises, he had to be on that squad, and you absolutely could not be.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick couldn't remember the last time he'd be physically ill, but since you entered the arena, he'd spent every day fighting the nausea. The Capitol's medicine certainly helped, but when he got feverish he barely wanted to take the concoctions. No if you died, he'd let himself die of fever to be with you. This was all his fault for ever even breathing in your direction, for caring, and now he'd have to suffer for it. What kept him going was how he had to be presentable and therefore healthy enough to get you sponsors, to rally for you. So he downed the medicine and copious amounts of caffeine to try and stay awake, he couldn't risk missing anything regardless of the alliances supposed to keep watch when you slept, he knew how fickle those could be. He rallied harder than he ever had to keep the public opinion on your side, you were sweet, delicate, a hopeless romantic, trying to stay alive for love, so pure, naive, a princess being forced to slay the dragon. Per usual people gobbled up any word that fell from his mouth and the sponsors came when called.

Then the rain started and he prayed that the arena would flood, you could swim, you'd survive that way, but it didn't flood. Raindrops just pattered down as the temperature dropped and then in what seemed like a matter of minutes, a few days into the rain, you were sick. Never had he been so grateful to have withheld the money for gifts beforehand because now he could get you what you needed to stay alive. Your lips were turning blue and he felt like he was tripping over himself in anxiety to send it to you. The sound of the rain echoed in his ears as he desperately waited for the blanket to arrive. For you to be warm, to stay alive. That night was the first one he had let himself cry, where death felt so imminent that he was plotting ways to go with you.

You persisted, you were like that. He felt his spirits rise as you continued on, so smart, so resourceful. His stomach wasn't in complete knots until suddenly your facade was slipping. What the fuck were you doing? What the fuck were you saying?

“Seems there's a lot about you I don't know then.” Conway stood and stared at you, Finnick could feel the illusion cracking through the screen. It was never going to continue forever, but this was too soon.

You tried to be quick on your feet, to throw together words to save yourself. “I’m not saying that I want to, just that sometimes you have to do what it takes to survive. Even if it's difficult -”

Conway interrupted your attempted safe and in that moment Finnick's stomach dropped. “Untrue?" Fuck. Fuck him. Fuck himself and Conway and fuck your slip of tounge. The stress had clearly gotten to you and was messing with how articulate you usually could be with your words.

“Yeah, I guess."

Finnick couldn't help but start muttering out loud, “No, no, no, no, don't say that. Angel, please.” He felt like he was going to cry again, you were on the edge of a cliff and the rocks were cracking.

“I'm sorry if that upsets you, I'm just doing what it takes to get home." Of course you were, you were doing what you had to, like every victor had, but you shouldn't have said it. It definitely didn't help that the frustration was evident in your voice. There must have been a brick of lead in the bottom of his stomach. Now he could never be home with you. Conway knew, there was no way he didn't.

“It’s okay, I understand.” No he didn't. “It's just hard to come to terms with, when you remember that this is all designed to bring that out in us. To see the other side, not through rose colored glasses.” Then he kissed you and Finnick knew the tides had turned. You needed to catch on, you could not be the prey, not now. Say you have to pee and run. Dart to wherever you can and hide.

Yet you didn't, you stuck by his side, and didn't follow when he and the male tribute from 7 went off alone for a second as you all ate. Finnick felt numb as the two discussed how they would get rid of you and the girl from 7, eyes red and stinging as he stared at the screen. He was helpless, he could only hope you could get his telepathic message that you were in danger. You didn't and your death warrant had been signed.

He saw how disenchanted Conway was by you when you killed the girl from 2. How dare he be disgusted when you were doing exactly what you had too in order to survive. Finnick was screaming at you through the television when Conway led you away. Stay. Stay by the girl from 7, let her take out the threat of Conway. Don't go with him. It was so hard to watch, but he persisted because he had to make sure you were alive. Finnick despised the way Conway was luring you in, he didn't care if it was hypocritical, you needed to survive, to come back home to him. When Conway's lips crashed into yours as he pulled the knives, your only protection, out of your hands Finnick felt like he'd lost all grip on reality. He threw a glass at the screen which shattered with a resounding crash, bubbly liquid cascading across the room, but he didn't care. Not when you were being led straight to your death, a ticket to a train that kept you forever away from him on this Earth.

You appeared so innocent and trusting, but with a glance Finnick could tell how scared you were, that you knew something was no longer quite right. Then the foot tapping started and if Finnick's stomach could get heavier then it did, too obvious. Any chances of you being able to play the role of the naive ingenue were long gone because Conway knew what it meant too. Then you did as Finnick had begged you to do long before, you ran. Predator and prey. You ran, he chased. Conway's long legs gave him an advantage as he sprinted after you, calling your name out in the tense air. You tried to hurtle yourself upon the closest tree and Conway had pulled you down in seconds.

This was it, the end. Finnick could feel his eyes welling with tears as his yells intertwined with your screams of begging Conway to let you go. He didn't know when he did it, but the coffee table had been toppled over on the floor, objects scattered across the carpet. Conway spewed on and on about how he knew you didn't love him, your heart was clearly owned by another, and how he was getting back at you now. You fought like hell, trying to squirm your way out of his arms until a knife was firmly plunged in your side. The scream you let out was so gut wrenching that let himself crumple onto the floor. Knees pulled up to his chest, face wet with a steady stream of tears, he was so helpless, so broken to not be able to save you.

You, however, made the tides change when your hands, now covered in defensive wounds, sharply forced themselves into Conway's eye. He screamed, trying to cover it, and you'd instantly darted up. Suddenly there was light at the end of the tunnel again, you were so smart, you'd halted him long enough to grab the spear. Finnick held his breath until the cannon went off, you'd overcome it, and he hated that he'd doubted you would.

Regardless of the fact that there were two tributes left, part of the weight on his chest lifted. He knew the feeling of how adrenaline pushed through the body to get you through every kill to the victory when one was in the arena and he could see it in you. His eyes stayed glued to the screen and he felt like he was stuck to the floor. Fingers knotting into the carpet as he anxiously watched. Time passed agonizingly slow, it hadn't been long, but each second you were still in there was hell. A hell that burned his chest just as yours must have been was the girl from 7 was holding you under the water. Just hold your breath, don't panic, just keep holding it as long as you can. You were an excellent swimmer, you could do this. Your body flailed about, trying to break free, but the other girl was firm in her hold. He'd sink into the bathtub himself, go overfill it and drag his head under, force the instincts to hold his breath wouldn't kick in.

Oh how the Capitol would mourn but love the tragedy of every single lover dead. The story they would tell of how heart wrenching it was. A story that wouldn't be told because you'd found the spear and quickly thrusted it upwards. A cannon echoed. You'd won. You'd come back to him. He'd be yours. You'd be his. You'd be each other's. Tears of relief, of happiness racked through his body. Fate had granted you both more time, he would forever be indebted for it. He shot up from the floor, staring at you, “I'm gonna be with you so soon, angel, right with you. Never gonna leave." He'd do whatever he could to be with you as soon as possible, to hold you once again, it was exhilarating to know the work had not been in vain. He'd have to comfort you, console you, but it would all be worth it just to be with you once again. He couldn't even dream of ever leaving your side when he had you so securely back, the one person he loved more than life itself.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick thought he'd had plenty of preparation for how you might respond when you found out that he'd convinced Coin you weren't mentally stable enough yet to be on the squad. He'd done it to protect you, to make sure you were safe, but he needed to be involved. It felt like a no-brainer that he had to help really take the Capitol down, take Snow down. Your emotions made his skin bristle with cold, you were stormy, hurt, betrayed. Which he hadn't done, he responded, he'd done it to save you.

“How could you do that to me?" Your voice shook as you wiped away the tears creeping up in your waterline.

“Angel, I can't let you go out there and die. I'm just keeping you safe." He tried to get closer, if he could just touch you that could reassure you of his pure, loving intentions.

“You think I'm gonna be safe when you die out there and I'm stuck completely alone?"

“I won't die." His eyes were pleading and yours were full of a white hot rage he'd never had directed at him on full blast before.

“I went through all the same training as you, I am my own person, you don't get to make decisions for me.”

“I don't want to control you, I want to keep you safe." How could you not understand? He sighed and took a step closer, which you countered. "Honey, I don't doubt that you're getting better, but this is war and if something happens that makes you go off…” Like him dying, like you being out there with him when his soul left the binds of the planet. “You could be a danger to yourself."

“I’ll be a danger to myself here too."

“There are doctors here who can take care of you, sweet girl. Please, I love you and need you here." Finnick tried to ignore the pressure of tears building up.

“All they'll do is sedate me and I'll never recover. I have to go with you, Finnick, you can't let me rot away alone." You got closer, hands finding his face. He adored the feeling but he couldn't savor it when your eyes were digging into his, bargaining with the depths of his soul. Which would not bend, it couldn't fold to you, no matter how much he wanted to be attached to you for every waking and sleeping moment. You must have sensed this incoming rejection when your face became stony and your grip began to slip away.

He tried to pull your hands back towards him, to keep contact, “It's just a couple of weeks, then we'll be free. We can go home together, live our lives, and have our perfect family. Just one more thing I've got to do."

You fully pulled away and he grieved the loss of contact. "You're punishing me, for leaving you in the arena, you're trying to get back at me for it.”

He shook his head as quickly as he could, "No, I'm not. You were just trying to follow the plan, I don't have any grudge over that, sweet girl. You did what you had too.”

"Like how you're doing what you have too, now?” The air felt stagnant in the silence of the beat as you stared at each other. You stepped closer again, hands grabbing his arms, pleading. “I know I was terrible, that I'm terrible, but please don't punish me for it. Please, Finn, don't do this to me." His head ached, his heart ached, everything ached.

“You're not a terrible person, I love you, and you can't go."

“You promised me-" You choked for a second on the tears in your throat, “You promised you wouldn't leave me." He thought about how you'd done the same and hated himself for thinking it. That was the thinking you already assumed he had and that's what he had to fight against.

“I know and I'm sorry, honey. It won't be long." Once again you pulled your body away from his, you looked so betrayed that it felt like he'd been stabbed in the stomach. “I promise."

He felt like he watched something frightening click in your brain, “You promised last time too." Your voice was low before your hands started moving rapidly around while you spoke. “This is you trying to get into my head, they were right, but you're in my head instead. You're trying to psychologically get to me, oh my god, I get it now."

“No, no, no, no, no, no, honey, no. That's not real." Another step forward and you stumbled slightly as you quickly went backwards.

“Yes, you've been toying with me this whole time. That's why you keep pulling shit like this, you're trying to break me.” He was always digging himself into much deeper holes.

"Angel, I'm not. I'm trying to keep you safe. I swear, the stuff you're thinking, that's not true.” Your arms crossed around your chest. “This is why you can't go, this is dangerous."

“I'm not crazy!" You looked at the ground, shaking your head as the tears began falling.

He stepped closer, “Nobody's saying that, you're not crazy. I know that. You just need some more time."

“If I needed more time, why wouldn't you stay?" You pointed at him, “You are a fucking liar and I wish you'd just have killed me instead of playing mind games on me."

You moved around so frantically that he had no choice but to grab you and he wanted to die himself when you flinched and shrunk into yourself. “I don't want you dead. I'm keeping you safe, I know I lied, I didn't mean to and I am so, so sorry.” His own dam protecting him from tears had broken and he began to cry. "I will come back so we can be together forever because I love you, that's what's real. When I'm gone and you're confused, know for a fact that I love you.”

“You can't go. If you go, I have this horrible feeling something bad will happen. Please, Finn, just stay with me.” The way his chest squeezed with guilt was nearly unbearable.

"I have to go.” He whispered and the way you completely broke down made him wish he'd never gotten close enough to be the one who hurt you like this. He caught you before you hit the ground and held you close. "We have time, I've got you, sweet girl. It's okay.” He soothed, rubbing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth to try and call you down.

When it was finally time for him to, the doctors did have to sedate you. It left him with echoes in his ears of how pleaded with him and how you cried. The thought of how much he would really be betraying you if he died kept him going. Every step of the journey was thoughts of you, echoes of you. Wondering if you were still sedated and how he'd make it up to you when you could finally be together again. Free from the reign of the Capitol and together. At least you were safe in District 13, you'd be upset, but protected until the world was ready to stop reigning terror on the two of you. That was until Coin sent in the replacement members for the squad and Finnick was sure he would absolutely lose it when you and Peeta walked off the craft, straight into another set of trials and tribulations determined to tear apart his happiness.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all so much for reading and all the fun discussions we've been having about all the details, I love you all so much. as always likes, reblogs, comments, feedback is all very very appreciated. love you all so so much 💋

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[deathshallbethelastenemy]

where you go, i go (2)

TEEN!gojo x FEM!reader (soulmate AU)

TW⚠️: angst, toji being toji, reader thinks about killing someone, gojo is in his tweaked out enlightenment era soooooo gojo a little creepy and eerie

Part 2 of what you see, i see

She had been going through the motions for the rest of the day, she hadn't even bothered to stop by her school clubs, until she arrived home. A sickly sweet scent of pastries attacked her senses the second she entered. Her house doubled as a bakery for the first floor. It was a popular hang out place for people her age especially for couples. There was a parade of them this time - cheerful couples were already sharing their coffees and sugary pastries.

The universe was laughing at her. It had to be. Why else would there be so many happy couples in the store right now? It was pointing and laughing hysterically on the ground saying: "That's what you get for ignoring me! That's what you get for resenting my gift to you!" Because that's what a soulmate was, a gift. A rare and wonderful gift that no one believed in, except for those who have experienced it themselves, and she had lost it; lost him.

She almost cried on the spot.

Her mother waved gleefully from behind the register, her daughter seldom returned it as she went up the stairs. She dropped her school bag in her room besides her desk and, face first, flopped on her bed.

She closed her eyes. Nothing, there was nothing.

Her lip quivered as tears began to sting her eyes, but she couldn't cry. Not when her mother was expecting her to change and put on an apron and help as she always did after school. She could silently mourn him tonight.

She let out a shaky breath. Did she even have the right to mourn him? She had never met him or talked to him. Everytime she thought of him recently was only to insult him or dismiss him entirely. No, she did not have the right to mourn him and she deserved to feel empty on the inside.

She put on a clean apron and slugged her way down stairs with a smile as she took over her mother's place at the register. Her mom kissed the top of her head and beamed at her with a thumbs up.

She never understood why so many people hated working retail, but now, she did. She had to force a smile and treat every customer kindly, all the while, she was dying on the inside.

A man had come in. Tall and insanely buff, a scar on his mouth. He ordered the cheapest pastry on the menu and handed her a wadded up yen. Her blood turned cold when their fingers brushed.

Her mother quickly took the money away from her as she gave her a quick command to check on the oven in the back.

She swallowed and listened to her mom. Her steps were quick as she pushed the double doors that led to the kitchen, she hugged herself.

It was him. It had to be him. That was the man who killed Gojo Satoru. She reached for a knife and gripped it tight. She should kill him. Her soulmate was dead and he was the reason why. She should try and avenge him.

Sheshouldsheshouldsheshouldsheshould-

The oven blared next to her. Her head snapped to it as the knife clattered on the ground, and with shaky mitted hands she opened the oven, and took out the fresh pastries.

Those were dangerous thoughts; thoughts she never thought she would ever have against anyone. She took off the oven mitts and looked outside the circle window of the kitchen - he was leaving and her mother was watching him like a hawk, even when the bell rang sharply with a muffin in his mouth as he walked outside with the rest of the crowd. She didn't know what possessed her to run after him, but she did. Maybe, all she wanted to know was why he had killed Gojo Satoru. Maybe, she wanted this man to kill her too, so she wouldn't feel empty inside anymore.

A blur of a conversation as the words tumbled out of her mouth: "Why? Why did you kill Satoru?"

She didn't register anything other than his gruff voice, "Ah, he had a soulmate. If I were you I'd keep that information to yourself from now on." Uninterestedly, he continued, "You wouldn't want the Gojo clan to know about you. No doubt, they'll try to marry you off to another member of the clan." and then, kept walking.

She didn't hear the interest in his voice when he said to himself, "But she would be worth a lot of money if I did take her to them." He would negotiate a price first to see if he was right about her being worth any money. He would worry about that later, right now, he had a star plasma vessel to turn in.

A sharp tug on her arm is all that stopped her from running after him again.

"______! What were you thinking?" her mother gritted out as she led her back into the bakery. Her mother's voice is strict and unwavering, "Go to your room."

And she did.

She tossed the apron on her desk and kicked her school bag. How was she supposed to live like this with the rest of her entire life half-full?

A sob violently escaped her.

This was how everyone else in the world lived, she realized.

Aching and alone.

Desperate and searching.

Wanted and unwanted.

Now, she was just like everyone else like she had always wanted. She supposed, she couldn't complain.

She laid in bed, wrapped herself in a blanket - trying to keep warm, but she doubted, she'd ever feel warm again as she cried herself to sleep.

She dreamt about Satoru. Flashes of a long chain, of red, of purple, of blood, of a crowd clapping, of someone wrapped in a white sheet, of a long dark hallway.

The universe was laughing at her again. Why else would it give her dreams about him?

An uneasiness settled into her bones. Someone was watching her. The grim reaper, no doubt wearing the face of her soulmate's assassin. If death wanted her, so be it.

She kept her eyes closed.

She saw herself sleeping soundly in death's gaze. She saw the time pass through her window changing from sundown to night as death continued to watch her intently.

Hours had passed.

00:57:39

She wondered at what specific time the grim reaper would take her.

1:13:01

Did it want her to open her eyes?

1:13:10

Probably.

1:13:15

The grim reaper has been patiently waiting for her.

1:13:17

Why keep death waiting then?

1:13:20

Her eyes fluttered open.

Beautiful, vibrant cerulean blue.

It was not death. It was -

"Satoru," she whispered.

"______," he whispered back.

Satoru was sitting down on the floor extremely close to her bed with his legs crossed while his hands rested neatly on his ankles. There was dry blood on his face and on his white dress shirt.

Her mouth moved but no sound came.

"You were crying," he said as he caressed her cheek soothing his thumb along the trail of stained lines that her dried tears had left, "alot."

So, he had seen everything.

She put her hand over his and gently rubbed circles.

Satoru scooted closer to her bed, "I didn't like seeing you cry," his hand trailed up to her scalp, "or frown," and gently ran his fingers through her hair.

He laid his head down on her bed and stared at her with those vibrant, sparkling eyes; eyes that could see everything she could never see.

She touched his cheek gently, "I didn't like not feeling you."

Her whole body shivered. Satoru was here, in front of her, and she was still cold.

"Are you still cold?"

She nodded.

Never letting go of her, he kicked off his shoes and climbed under the blanket with her. He wrapped his legs around hers as her arms wrapped under his uniform jacket.

With his hand still tangled in her hair, he said, "Better?"

His heartbeat had returned to her. They were beating in unison again.

"Better," she hummed. "You?" She asked.

His lips pressed softly on her forehead, "Much better." He tugged her in closer into his chest.

She smiled.

She was warm again.

@whatamidoing89 @mr-underhills-things

Part 1: what you see, i see

Part 3: you know i adore you

Part 4: i'm crazier for you

Part 5: baby, you're the life of the party

Part 6: something's made your eyes go cold