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perpetualcontrolleddrowning · 22 hours ago

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Moshang Fic - Part 1

half of something else

JRaylin441

Summary: Tianlang-Jun comes to visit the Northern Desert Palace. Tianlang-Jun is very bored. Tianlang-Jun finds a way to entertain himself.

Written for: Gotcha for Gaza prompt "on behalf of gusufan please tag them! I would like a post-canon Moshang get together fic. sfw or nsfw doesn't matter :)" from boomfanfic

Content Warnings: None for this chapter (that I know of), but it will be explicit in future

Read it on ao3 here (x)

Tianlang-Jun arrives at the Northern Palace on a beautiful and perfect summer day, which is funny, because he's about to ruin Shang Qinghua's whole life.

Shang Qinghua has an Overarching To Do List that is ever-evolving and extensive. There are arrangements to be made, banquets to organize, appropriate guest rooms to appoint. There is color-coding. There are sublists on sublists, organized by immediacy and location within the Demon Realm or Cultivation Sects and a thousand other subheadings that only Shang Qinghua is able to fully track.

When someone like Tianlang-Jun arrives, it has to jump to the top of the priority list. This is the father of Luo Binghe, one of the only full-blooded Heavenly Demons left alive, and initially created to be the only person capable of challenging Shang Qinghua's son in a fight, at his full power. Bing-ge is fairly easy to deal with, these days, now that Cucumber-bro has come along and turned him into an eager little tradwife. There isn't really a need for him to have some arch-nemesis/father in the world.

Which leaves Tianlang-Jun, local chaotic neutral god-level demon, just wandering around without a purpose or plot hook. He can do things like arrive, unannounced, in a Demon king's court and expect to be welcomed. Maybe he will be kind and perfectly accepting of the fact that he has to wait for several minutes for things to go his way. Maybe he will kill every demon in the palace out of boredom, like a toddler with a tantrum.

It was fun to write characters like this when it was just in a book! They keep things interesting! They're helpful when he needs something to happen and can't figure out how to motivate his characters to do it! They're way less fun to deal with when Shang Qinghua has somehow become the person in charge of managing the logistics and fallout of those interactions, in both the human and demon realms. Because, apparently, no one else is masochistic enough to want a job like that.

This is not the kind of masochism he enjoys! If he thought it would make any difference, he would be taking a baseball bat to the System's smug little screen right now!

"This King welcomes Tianlang-Jun to the Northern Desert Palace and hopes that he will stay as a welcome guest for as long as he wishes."

"This humble one is honored to accept your hospitality."

Shang Qinghua skids into the throne room with what feels like a cartoon dust cloud behind him. Mobei-Jun is only now wrapping up the grandiose and official greeting of Tianlang-Jun before the whole court, because he is a very good boy who has been trained well by his closest advisor and knows how to stall for time when Shang Qinghua tells him to.

They are engaging in shallow salutes toward each other, since it's a little unclear exactly what Tianlang-Jun's ranking is now, as someone who could wipe the floor with Mobei-Jun, someone who had a long-standing alliance with the Mobei clan before he was imprisoned under a mountain for two and a half decades, someone who no longer has any official titles.

Shang Qinghua, of course, ranks leagues below either of them, and drops into a low salute as soon as his feet have found purchase in their place to the side of Mobei-Jun's throne. He can feel dark red eyes (why did he think that was a good color for a protagonist's eyes? Why did he need to give that eye color to the badass big bad demon??? They're terrifying!) lingering on him for a moment, evaluating him before easily moving on, just as every other powerful person in this world tends to do when confronted with his trembling mousiness. It is often very convenient to be overlooked, and Shang Qinghua never (really, never ever) feels bitter about the fact that, in a world where literally everyone around him is a badass (he knows they are, he wrote them that way), he gets stuck in this body.

"My servants have prepared our finest rooms for you." Bold of Mobei-Jun to go ahead and make that claim when Tianlang-Jun arrived not a quarter shichen ago. Sure, yeah, just assume that Shang Qinghua has it all together and handled. Everyone else does. "Please do not hesitate to reach out to my advisor, Shang Qinghua, should Tianlang-Jun find himself in need of anything." Shang Qinghua taught him that customer-service line, back when Mobei-Jun was more wont to stare in stony silence at any visitor to his court. He has no right to be this irritated about all the work still being foisted off onto him now. He sowed these seeds. He's reaping now. He reminds himself of this and does not allow his hands to clench into fists. Not in public like this. There is a ticking knot in the muscle behind his shoulder blade, instead, that is winching ever tighter and more painful. This has been true for many years.

Tianlang-Jun's eyes pass over him again, another assessment, now that Shang Qinghua has been shown to hold such a high rank. This is normal too. Shang Qinghua likes that they underestimate him. It makes his job easier.

"If Tianlang-Jun would honor this lowly one by following him, this Shang Qinghua will show him to his rooms."

"Of course," Tianlang-Jun replies, jovially, as if he has run into an old friend on a walk rather than arrived unannounced to another demon lord's court. Shang Qinghua feels himself cringing at the blatant character trope of it all, the lackadaisical OP demon lord. Fuck you, past version of Shang Qinghua. There is no excuse in not knowing that your actions would have consequences.

He cringes and he grovels and he guides Tianlang-Jun to the rooms that he and every member of Mobei-Jun's staff that wasn't already in court for the greeting just dropped everything to put together. They look spotless and prepared in the same way they would if this had been a pre-planned dignitary visit, because Shang Qinghua is fucking good at his job, not that anyone notices.

"Before you go, Qinghua," Tianlang-Jun calls, already calling him in a way that is far too familiar with nothing to be done about it. "Are there any human novels in this palace? I have fallen out of the practice of reading with my imprisonment, but would not mind a chance to rediscover an old hobby."

"Of course, Tianlang-Jun," Shang Qinghua murmurs, bowing low enough that his nose could almost scrape the ground. "This one will obey."

He backs out of the room without rising from his bow, feeling the panic of this new task settle in the shaking of his bones, into the knot in his shoulder, alongside all the rest of his endless Overarching To Do List. Sure. Yeah, he'll get right on that. Because of course this is the best use of his time. The smile on his face is a rictus of customer service.

As soon as Shang Qinghua is out in the hallway and away from the range of heavenly demonic hearing, he grabs the first demon that respects any of his orders by their collar and sends them to start arranging a greeting banquet for that night. He grabs another and sends them along to rearrange the schedule for court the next day, since they were actually planning to receive some dignitaries tomorrow and will need to shift them to later in the day so as to not disrespect their new guest. He doesn't pick a demon to go and update his tracking of Tianlang-Jun's location, since no one else in this palace is supposed to know about that. He doesn't pick a demon to go and get the novels either, because he doesn't trust a single demon in this realm to know what the best options for human literature are and, unfortunately, he knows exactly the sort of thing that Tianlang-Jun would enjoy.

Because he wrote him.

*~*~*

Mobei-Jun does not enjoy banquets. It is easier, now that he is king and has no further aspirations for promotion, because he no longer has to spend his time doing something Qinghua calls "net-working" and can generally sit in stoic silence. Even so, he would prefer to dine in his own quarters, with Qinghua nervously chattering at length about all he has done and still has to do that day.

The food is prepared in the traditional demonic way. Qinghua does not like the raw meat, or the carnivorous diet of many in the court. Mobei-Jun spent an hour in the kitchens prior to this preparing hand-pulled noodles for him, so that he will have something to eat as well. He had captured and killed the beast used for the meat in the noodle dish the day before, also for Qinghua. He had not shown much of a reaction, when the prize was presented to him. Merely gestured for Mobei-Jun to hand it off to a servant to be butchered.

When the banquet begins, he gestures to one of the servants to bring the noodle dish from the kitchen out to Qinghua. No one dares to disobey when it comes to Qinghua's happiness. They know better.

When the steaming noodle dish is placed before him, Qinghua looks down at it in surprise before taking a darting glance in Mobei-Jun's direction. It is good, that he knows so immediately who is taking the time to cook for him. All things are as they should be.

"The honorable Mobei-Jun had no need to go through such trouble for me." Ah. All things are as they should be, except for the lounging heavenly demon seated to his side. Mobei-Jun hates when he must entertain guests, particularly ones that are powerful enough to defeat him in combat. When Junshang is visiting, it is not so bad, because he has known Mobei-Jun long enough to not be surprised by his silence. Also, he is usually so preoccupied with his human consort that there is no need to entertain him either way.

"You are a guest." This is what is expected, when an important guest arrives. It would not be happening, otherwise.

"This lord cannot help but notice that the human in your court seems to be well integrated." Tianlang-Jun is tilting his head in Qinghua's direction, as if there could be any other human he is referring to.

"Yes." Mobei-Jun responds, even though he does not want to talk to this demon about Qinghua, because Qinghua will be upset if he offends their guest this early into his visit.

"I cannot help but notice that someone has been cooking for him. Is there a demon in your court attempting to lay claim, then?"

Damn it all, actually. Mobei-Jun no longer cares about whether he might upset the guest. He curls his upper lip into a snarl before Tianlang-Jun allows any thought of that variety to linger in his head. There is a sudden shift in Tianlang-Jun's body language. One of his eyebrows flies up, and he suddenly seems much more interested in the conversation. Over at his table, Qinghua shoots a sharp and reproving glance in Mobei-Jun's direction, like he does every time he thinks Mobei-Jun might be making more work for him.

"Oh? It could not be that the Mobei-Jun, heir of the family that so publicly opposed my very interest in the human realm, has gone and started to court a human."

"Qinghua is none of your concern," Mobei-Jun grits out stiffly. Because Qinghua will be sad if he causes a political incident and he is holding on to his temper by nature of that fact alone. "This king would recommend that Tianlang-Jun decide on some other topic of conversation."

"Of course, Mobei-Jun. How can this guest do anything but comply?" But Mobei-Jun knows the glint of interest that he is still seeing in those dark eyes. He made a mistake, somewhere in that conversation. He doesn't know where. But he has drawn Tianlang-Jun's attention to Qinghua. This cannot stand.

"Qinghua is my advisor and a member of my court." The longer he is talking, the more smugly entertained this infuriating demon looks. "Tianlang-Jun has no reason for Qinghua to cross his mind."

A smile like a young child coming across an undefended table of sweets and delicacies. "I thought Mobei-Jun instructed me to direct any of my concerns or requests toward his advisor."

"No need. Tell a servant instead. They will tell Qinghua."

"That seems rather inefficient." Tianlang-Jun takes a slow and mocking drink of his wine, eyes laughing at Mobei-Jun over the rim. "Surely your advisor would prefer a more direct approach?"

The goblet in Mobei-Jun's hand groans under the pressure of his grip. "If Tianlang-Jun needs something, he should simply come to me and ask." The words are hissed out between teeth that will barely part to let them pass.

"Ah. An elegant solution. Truly, the king of the Northern Desert is peerless in his wisdom."

Mobei-Jun is being laughed at. He knows this feeling. He would grab Tianlang-Jun by the throat and throw him across the room if it wouldn't lead to him making a fool of himself in front of Qinghua. So, instead, he throws back the drink and studiously ignores any other attempts at conversation from the guest at his side. Let Qinghua be angry with him for not being the perfect diplomatic host. It is better than anything else he might have done.

*~*~*

Shang Qinghua is tired in the body-tired type of way, but not in the brain-tired type of way. The banquet ended hours ago, and the rest of the court has retreated to their beds for now, whether to fall asleep or to hook up with whoever they want. Good for them, good for them. The vigor of demonic youth.

That is not what is keeping him awake, however. Fuck no. It's been years since he's had a chance to bump uglies (as they say) with anyone. Shang Qinghua has an enormous and ever-growing Overarching To Do List. This is known. He also has his daily to do list that he draws from the points on the Overarching To Do List. He was doing an okay job getting through it before that deadbeat dad on a world tour had to show up and throw everything off, so now he's up hours past when everyone else went to sleep, like some kind of gamer bro, scrambling to check this month's inventory for Cang Qiong Mountain Peak against last months, to make sure there aren't any far less clever people skimming off the top. So far, it looks like a few of the Zui Xian disciples have been taking more than they said they would, but that's typical for them and not beyond the normal amounts, so he's not particularly worried.

Shang Qinghua is just setting those documents aside, moving into his next task (updating the map that he keeps of the movements of important figures based on the reports of this person and that person), when he hears the door to his office open.

No knock. No nothing. Is he some teenager still living at his parents' house? What's this entitlement and complete lack of privacy?

"I have always found it quaint, all the busy papers and documents that make up a human's day." Fuck. Tianlang-Jun. Not the sort of person that Shang Qinghua can order to leave.

"My lord Tianlang-Jun," he greets, shakily, standing for a quick salute and dropping the inventory paper over his map. The motherfucker. As if he didn't just ask Shang Qinghua for human books when he arrived. Papers and books aren't, actually, a unique human thing.

Much of demonic writing happens with an elaborate system of knots tied into thread, since there is so much variation in demonic hand structure, and tying knots is more accessible than holding a writing utensil. Learning how to write with a brush and paper had been a sign of status, because it meant that you might be interacting with the human realm. He'd thought it was a clever world-building detail. And it's not that humans spend more time than demons on their record keeping. More that, when Tianlang-Jun was emperor, he had been absent more often than not and had actively thwarted the efforts of his court to keep strategic records and reports. It had been part of what led to his downfall, leaving him to fight back entirely alone against so many sects. It had left his lands in chaos and disorganization, the easier for Shang Qinghua's son to sweep through and conquer.

Also, well, Shang Qinghua had never found too much pleasure in balancing all the little moving parts of writing political intrigue. Better to just have a good reason such structure was lacking and stop worrying about it.

"Forgive this humble human the wanderings of his mind." Shang Qinghua shuffles the map that he was making adjustments to further out of sight, even as he watches Tianlang-Jun's sharp eyes pick up on the movement. "How can this one be of service to the great Tianlang-Jun?"

"I couldn't help but appreciate the wonderful selection of novels provided to my rooms." Tianlang-Jun's movements are slinking and feline, as he maneuvers his way just a little too closely into Shang Qinghua's space. "I thought it might be worth my while to meet the human capable of selecting such things. Perhaps we may have some things in common." Tianlang-Jun has a tell when he's lying. There's a little twitch right at the corner of his smile, for just a second. No one ever noticed it. Even if they had, no one would have ever pointed it out to him or told someone else, because no one would ever dare. Shang Qinghua knows that he is lying right now, because he knows the tell, because he wrote this character. This was supposed to be his Big Bad, before the computer crashed and the outline fell to pieces and everything else went to shit.

"Perhaps Tianlang-Jun would like a recommendation for a companion more fitting to his status, who may also enjoy to discuss such things with him?" Shang Qinghua needs this man to leave. He has to get up in just a few hours to help prepare for court again, and he still has several things on today's list. Please, please, please just take the hint and leave.

"Oh?" Head tilted to the side. A fox, rather than a cat. "Is Shang Qinghua spoken for, then? This Tianlang-Jun had hoped to befriend him, but it seems as though some other demon has laid a claim."

"What?" Shang Qinghua sputters, because there are about seventeen things about that one small sentence that he needs to question and it's knocking some of the fear and hesitance right out of him. "Surely Tianlang-Jun has others he would find more suitable to befriend." Befriend??? This is the Big Bad! What is he even doing in here?

Tianlang-Jun seems quite aware of Shang Qinghua's panic and distress, and yet utterly unmoved. He makes his way over to the desk that Shang Qinghua was using and sits down on the surface, right atop the papers, patting against his own thighs and smiling with all the guile of a newborn baby.

"I think that you will find that I have quite a history of befriending people that others may not see as suitable." Tianlang-Jun reaches over, swipes up the cup of tea that Shang Qinghua poured himself several hours ago and immediately forgot about. The previous emperor of the Southern demon tribes takes one delicate sip, wrinkles his nose in disgust, and then sets it back down. "Entertain me, Qinghua. I want to hear all about this life that a human built among demons. At the throne of Mobei-Jun, no less."

Oh. That makes more sense, then. The scandalized, gossiping note in his voice, when he talks about Mobei-Jun. The sudden and more-intense-than-it-should-be interest. Shang Qinghua can never escape the time honored tradition of a queer-coded villain, apparently. It happens when he's writing, even if he doesn't mean to do it. And this would make sense, as a power grab without having to do any of the actual work, which is the part that Tianlang-Jun always hated anyway. Marrying Mobei-Jun would be a pretty little solution.

"This one is hardly as important as all that." As if Shang Qinghua is ever going to allow this man to end up with Mobei-Jun. It would be a terrible match, neither one of them making the other happy. And, well, Mobei-Jun has always his favorite. He deserves something better than a miserable marriage. "This lowly one would be happy to tell Tianlang-Jun anything he is curious about, but it would hardly be anything worth hearing. This one is rarely granted the honor of speaking with Mobei-Jun." Tianlang-Jun is too powerful and unpredictable to piss off, so he can't exactly say no, but he's certainly not going to make it easy.

"Oh, this lowly one, huh?" Tianlang-Jun clicks his tongue in a chiding, condescending manner. Bitch. "No need to stand on such formalities. We're friends now, Qinghua. Come, sit with me. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about all the ways that human literature has advanced in the past few decades."

And, well, that's a direct order. For all that Shang Qinghua lectures Mobei-Jun about being a good diplomat, he can hardly do anything but obey. For all that Shang Qinghua shit talks people in his head or in his interactions with Cucumber-Bro, he is and will forever be a coward. He walks over to the small sitting area in the corner of the room, where he has covered all four of the chairs with some mishmash of maps and paperwork and empty bowls of noodles. The servants likely would have cleaned it up if they weren't forbidden from moving anything in the room.

Tianlang-Jun follows him, gleeful as a child and with the power of a nuclear bomb behind him. He stands off the to side, entirely unhelpful, as Shang Qinghua shoves several piles of detritus to the floor and beats furiously at the seat cushions to try and remove some of the dust. When one is clear, Tianlang-Jun slinks over and perches upon it like a throne.

"Now, isn't that better?" Tianlang-Jun seems to have brought the cold cup of Shang Qinghua's tea with him, and is continuing to sip from it, despite the level to which it is clearly grossing him out. "Tell me about books, if you're so reluctant to speak about your king."

They talk. It should be terrifying, speaking with a Heavenly Demon like this, someone so unpredictable. And it is, in a way. Shang Qinghua is shitting himself, and he can feel the way all of his limbs have locked up in trembling panic. Tianlang-Jun, though, was written to be a charming and charismatic villain, the kind of character that you can't help but like, even when he's clearly committing all sorts of atrocities. And so, somehow, despite it all, Shang Qinghua kind of likes him. Tianlang-Jun is quick and clever and very invested in learning about the terrible plots of terrible romance books that are starting to really pick up steam in this world after The Resentment of Chunshan.

"See? We're friends now. Tell me about my friend, Qinghua. How did a human come to be such an integral member of Mobei-Jun's court? An advisor, at that?"

Shang Qinghua talks him in circles, barely talking about Mobei-Jun at all, because he can make a new friend while still sticking to the original goal. Every time it drifts close to talk of Shang Qinghua's king, he can see the light in Tianlang-Jun's eyes, the leaning forward in sudden rapt interest, and it's not hard to remember to change the subject.

It would be easier, however, if his entire life didn't seem to revolve around Mobei-Jun, at this point. There's really very little that Shang Qinghua can talk about that doesn't tie back to him in some way. This is not because of his pathetic little crush, either. It's simply because he has made himself into an essential member of the court and because he lives at his place of work. Obviously, his life would revolve around his boss, in a situation like that. The pathetic-crush-maybe-love is entirely separate from that.

As the night wears on into the wee small hours of the morning, Shang Qinghua is furious to realize that he could actually see himself becoming friends with Tianlang-Jun. It's lucky, though, because the dropping formality and increased comfort eventually reaches a point where Shang Qinghua is finally comfortable pushing a new novel into Tianlang-Jun's hands and shoving him out the door to his quarters. Shang Qinghua can cross off the one or two essential things left on his list for today, and move all the other still-important-but-less-immediately-pressing tasks to the list for tomorrow.

He crashes into a few snatched hours of sleep, reeling from all the details that will be waiting for him when he wakes up.

*~*~*

"I see why you like him so much."

Mobei-Jun does not respond. That voice could be talking to anyone. He refuses to acknowledge it until it has made it impossible to do otherwise. Qinghua should be grovelling at his feet in thanks, at the effort he is putting into diplomacy.

"Your little human pet. We had such a lovely talk late last night. He has such taste in literature, don't you think?" Mobei-Jun is not looking at Tianlang-Jun, even as he lounges beside him as an honored guest at court. He is not looking because it's impossible to know if Tianlang-Jun is even talking to him. He will not look, because if he looks then he will lunge at Tianlang-Jun teeth-first, and he is behaving himself. "And such a fire in him! I will admit, Mobei-Jun, I didn't see it at first. He seems so nervous and jittery all the time. But there really is a brilliant mind in there, isn't there? And he's got a spine, if you push him far enough."

The doors to the court open, and Tianlang-Jun falls silent, thank the gods. Mobei-Jun is one of the only creatures on this earth that has the opportunity to know those truths about Qinghua, past the mask that so many others see. Perhaps Tianlang-Jun is only taunting him but, if so, then it is a very lucky guess.

Mobei-Jun rules for the next petitioner to be sentenced to death. He doesn't even know what they came in for.

As the court watches the crying demon be dragged from the room, Mobei-Jun sees the accursed image of Tianlang-Jun, lounging in his seat with a smirk, in his peripheral vision.

"Someone like that is truly worth knowing, wouldn't you say? Worth keeping on your side. I think I may take up a friendship with Qinghua. He seems like the sort of man who would enjoy exchanging letters."

And that is the last straw.

There is no warning, when Mobei-Jun lunges. He slips into the shadow of his throne and appears, teeth and claws first, behind where Tianlang-Jun has the nerve to lounge. Speaking of writing letters to Qinghua. Calling him by that name. Mobei-Jun is going to kill him where he stands.

Tianlang-Jun isn't surprised. He meets him blow for blow, even as Mobei-Jun tackles him down off the dais and they begin to duel in the center of the court. The demon nobles stand in quiet observation, not interfering for either side. They are nothing. Mobei-Jun draws the sword at his side, lunging forward with the speed and strength he has developed over years of sparring with Luo Binghe, on top of a lifetime in a family that wanted him dead. Tianlang-Jun dances gracefully out of the way. He laughs as he does. It sends icy fury hurtling through Mobei-Jun's bloodstream.

The fight is brief and brutal. For every blow that Mobei-Jun lands, Tianlang-Jun lands three. He is faster, and stronger, and older. What does it matter, that Mobei-Jun will lose? That is not the point. How could he respond in any way but this, when Tianlang-Jun has so blatantly flaunted his claim to the man he is courting?

A blow to the side of the head, and Mobei-Jun sees his blood on the ground. A blow to Tianlang-Jun's arm, and his blood forms into a wickedly sharp blade that he wields more effectively than claws and teeth.

Mobei-Jun is losing. He is losing, and Tianlang-Jun does not do him the dignity of making his next charade subtle. Perhaps, to the nobles, already losing interest in the fight, it is difficult to see. Here, in the midst of the fight, it is glaringly obvious when Tianlang-Jun allows several of Mobei-Jun's hits to land in a row. Even more obvious when he winks and then drops to a knee, bowing his head before Mobei-Jun's strike, fully confident that he will not allow it to land.

Mobei-Jun does not allow it to land. Because Qinghua would be upset.

"This Tianlang-Jun apologizes for any offense he may have caused his host, the venerable Mobei-Jun. Please, accept this one's deepest regret and honest surrender to the martial prowess of one such as Mobei-Jun."

He is laying it on thick. He is smirking throughout the entire declaration. Mobei-Jun does not dignify it with a response. He grunts in some vague acknowledgement and strides out of the greeting hall before he does something like throw away his entire kingdom for the chance to tear out Tianlang-Jun's throat.

Let him try to take Qinghua. A man like this is not at all to Qinghua's taste, and has none of the sort of shared history that he has with Mobei-Jun. Tianlang-Jun can throw himself against the brick wall of Qinghua's regard all that he desires. It will make no difference. He will not find a way into Qinghua's heart.

Mobei-Jun hasn't, and he has been trying for years.

*~*~*

By the time Shang Qinghua makes it back to his office for the evening, he is about ready to hunt his king down and throttle him. Sure, go right ahead, pick a fight with the most powerful demon in the court in the middle of the court where everyone can see and then leave court early. Surely someone else can take care of all the day's petitioners. Surely someone else can greet the dignitaries from the Fox Clan.

Of course. Shang Qinghua will just shift around his daily to do list, again, and make that happen. Who cares if it means that he needs to send the head servant to oversee the preparation of the greeting banquet for tomorrow, and fuck if that imbecile will do any of it right. He'll make it too garish or, even worse, make it grander than the welcome banquet they held yesterday, and cause a diplomatic incident that way. Most likely, Shang Qinghua is going to have to head over there tomorrow morning and undo everything the head servant did, which means another item on his to do list.

When he returns to his office, there is a pile of mail waiting for him, because there's a fucking spawn point above his desk and new tasks arrive every time he dares to step away. This is always the first part of his routine in the evening: going through all the mail in order of oldest to newest and checking to see which part of the Overarching To Do List it needs to be added to.

There are, thank fucking god, very few unexpected things in this pile of mail. Shang Qinghua moves a few tracking symbols around on his map of VIPs, and takes the time to jot a few points down on his to do lists for various regions. There are some items to add into next months budget for the Northern Desert and a few requests for night hunt services that will need to be passed on. Nothing too unusual, until he gets to the two most recent pieces of mail.

Qinghua,

I so enjoyed our conversation last night. Your insight into the motivations of the characters inBreathless Wishwere truly correct on every point. A mind like yours is one that I am eager to befriend.

Here's to many more nighttime conversations.

Tianlang-Jun :)

Shang Qinghua stares at the smiley face at the end for too long. This is what he gets. This is what he gets for watching too much shonen anime right before starting to outline this part of his story. He has no one to blame but himself, for this chaotic cool-guy stalker vibe that Tianlang-Jun is bringing to the villain role.

Shang Qinghua does not know what to do with this letter, but there is nothing about it that needs to be added to the Overarching To Do List. He sets it to the side so he can start to forget about it (after taking out the color-coded cheat sheet for the tracking map of VIPs and adding a new colored dot next to Tianlang-Jun's name).

The next letter is even more confusing.

Truly, Shang Qinghua stares down at the envelope for almost a full minute before moving.

It is folded on impressive, expensive cream paper. His name is written across the front, in a handwriting that would be impossible not to recognize, after all the time he has spent managing documentation for its owner.

Qinghua, it reads.

Tianlang-Jun provoked the fight today. There will likely be people who are unhappy.

I don't like him here. Make him leave.

There is no signature line. Shang Qinghua is going to kill him. He is going to go back in time and not save his life, back when they first met. That would have made every other part of his life so much easier. Fucking hindsight.

Fucking. Sure. He'll just go ahead and kick the most powerful demon they know out of the palace, then. Him, Shang Qinhua, the only human here. A cultivator too! Don't forget that part! A cultivator, you know, like the cultivators that imprisoned him under a mountain for decades and killed the woman he was in love with? Surely, there couldn't possibly be any flaws in this plan.

"Is that all he wrote? That's pathetic." The voice is from right over Shang Qinghua's shoulder, and he screams and whirls around, throwing the letter with all his might, only for it to flop harmlessly against Tianlang-Jun's chest and fall to the floor. "Hello Qinghua. I need to teach your king how to write sweet nothings as well, apparently."

Right. This asshole. Trying to seduce Mobei-Jun by doing ridiculous things like, apparently, starting a fight with him in front of the entire court and then reading letters to try and figure out how his actions were received.

"Tianlang-Jun." Shang Qinghua dips into a low salute, because he needs a second to get his fucking face together and also because he doesn't want to fucking die. "How can this humble one be of service?"

"None of that, I thought we already talked about this. No need for the formalities." Tianlang-Jun reaches past Shang Qinghua and steals his tea again before sauntering over to the sitting area where they spent their time yesterday. "I was just bored and wanted to talk to my friend. You're not busy, are you?" He's standing in front of the chair he sat in last night, because it's already accumulated new clutter and apparently his arms are still going to fucking fall off or something if he deigns to do any kind of physical labor.

"Of course I have time." Shang Qinghua gives one last, longing glance toward The Overarching To Do List and makes his way over to clear off the fucking chair. Make way, everyone. Shang Qinghua, the only fucking person capable of doing any work around here is finally here. What else can he do for you?

Tianlang-Jun drapes himself across the chair like an expensive throw and takes a languorous sip of Shang Qinghua's tea. When he tastes it, and the liquor Shang Qinghua had treated himself to spiking it with, his bros shoot up and a delighted smile spreads across his face.

"Ah, Qinghua, I had no idea you enjoyed this sort of thing. You must really be telling the truth when you said that you were planning to relax tonight." Shang Qinghua had not said anything even close to that. He would never say something like that. He added the shot or two because all he has to do tonight is a bunch of simple copying over of figures from all the various documents into one larger tracking sheet. It's mindless work and not the sort of thing that is disrupted by a little alcohol greasing the way.

"This king of yours is not very good at the whole romance thing, is he?" As if Shang Qinghua is going to allow slander like that to stand.

"He has never been interested in that sort of thing, so there would be no way to know one way or the other."

"Oh? What makes you so sure of that? I thought you were rarely granted the honor of speaking to Mobei-Jun?" Tianlang-Jun has the kind of smile that makes you feel like he's always playing a prank on you, or telling a joke at your expense. As the person who created him, Shang Qinghua knows that that feeling is often correct. The question is simply whether or not it is correct at this exact moment.

"I have known him for many years and seen him grow from a youth into the king that he is today. I would know if he had expressed interest in another."

"Qinghua sounds so sure. Perhaps this Lord should take his word for it." A fucking wrestling match in front of the entire court. Conversation with multiple words from Mobei-Jun over the course of a banquet. Maybe this is the joke. These behaviors could be seen as romantic, sometimes even flirting, in demon customs.

"Tianlang-Jun returned so quickly to formalities, after announcing that they were not necessary. Is he attempting to take his leave, then?" Shang Qinghua is trembling from the audacity of prompting Tianlang-Junto leave, but he's not sure he won't do something even worse if he continues to talk to him. The lesser of two evils.

"Hm, not just yet." Tianlang-Jun spreads his legs wide, leans forward to rest his chin on his hand and stare with half-lidded eyes. "Have you fucked each other?"

Shang Qinghua feels the impact of the question as it hits his chest, and then the shockwaves out that lock down each of his muscles as they pass. Fight or flight or fucking freeze, and he is a prey animal in the hungry gaze of a predator. Not even in a hot way that it sometimes feels with Mobei-Jun, just in the terrifying, if-I-don't-say-the-right-answer-he'll-kill-me way.

Thankfully, or tragically, or pathetically, Shang Qinghua doesn't have to lie about this. Who knows how a man as single-minded and obsessive as Tianlang-Jun would react to having to share his love interest with the tiny cultivator before him.

"No! What the fuck? No, of course he hasn't fucked me."

"He hasn't fucked you? Oh, Qinghua, you poor thing. That is not the question I asked."

"I don't see why any of this is relevant to anything at all."

"I told you. I'm bored! A poor, retired heavenly demon, traveling the world without a friend or a title to his name, grieving the loss of his most reliable subordinate. There is nothing at all to do out there. And there's something so very interesting happening here at this court. How long have you been wanting him?"

Shang Qinghua cannot tell him to leave, because he would be dead before the words could even leave his mouth. Also because this should all be just fine. He shouldn't feel the need to shut this down. Shang Qinghua doesn't mind when people make pitying assumptions about him. It's useful. If it weren't for the pathetic, desperate obsession he's been nursing for his king since long before he even came to this world, it would be funny. Instead, he's holding onto the shreds of his composure and humiliation and anger with the tips of his fingernails.

"Tianlang-Jun," he forces out. "Is there some sort of book you are looking to borrow tonight, or another way that I could be of service to you?"

"My friend Qinghua must be a prodigious reader indeed, if he believes me capable of reading all the books he sent over in the past day alone." There is a breath of peace, where Shang Qinghua is idiotic enough to let his guard down, thinking his blatant efforts to change the subject were accepted. "If you're not going to fuck him, you should at least go through the trouble of cooking for him. After all the cooking he's done for you."

Is this some weird mind game? Probably! Luo Binghe has to get it from somewhere! Is Tianlang-Jun trying to mark his claim on Mobei-Jun by trying to offend and order around anyone who might be a love rival? That feels more like the moves of the Little Palace Mistress than a Heavenly Demon lord. But then, why tell him to cook for his king? Where does that fit into the plan?

It's all gone so strange.

"Sure, yeah, I'll do that." Shang Qinghua agrees because there's nothing else for him to do and he doesn't know what the game is, here. He certainly can't go and tell Tianlang-Jun to fuck off, to leave him alone, to leave this entire fucking palace and go make his trouble somewhere else. What can he do but agree? He has no power here, beyond his intricate and extensive knowledge of all the ways that Tianlang-Jun could fuck him up without even expending any effort. Easier than sneezing.

"I'll hold you to that, Qinghua," Tianlang-Jun says, drinking deeply from the spiked cold tea that he stole. "As my friend, I have to trust that you will keep your word to me, no?" He smiles at that, as if they are two old childhood friends passing the time over jokes and nostalgic stories.

"Of course, of course," Shang Qinghua murmurs, feeling like an old grandfather appeasing a toddler. He could hope that this would be the end of their conversation, but Tianlang-Jun stays again, this night, even later than the night before. Shang Qinghua has nothing he can do about it, but he's going to have to start penciling naps into the daily to do list, if this shit keeps up.

*~*~*

"I have to say, that letter you wrote to your darling love really left something to be desired." Tianlang-Jun does not wait to be announced or engage in any small talk. He simply arrives and begins speaking about the thing he wants to say. This is normally the sort of behavior that Mobei-Jun appreciates.

Normally.

He is reading over the speech that Qinghua has written for him, greeting the dignitaries from the Fox Clan after their arrival yesterday. It is short and succinct, but covers the points that would be necessary for whatever sort of behind-the-scenes things Qinghua is trying to accomplish. Mobei-Jun no longer asks for specifics. He just goes where he is told and says what he's supposed to say. In return, Qinghua makes the words at least somewhat bearable to say. It works for them.

They have a rapport. An understanding. Mobei-Jun is not going to forget this and allow himself to lash out again, like yesterday. Qinghua had not been happy. He hadn't said anything, too busy with other things, but he had scowled up at him over dinner, and that was enough to make it clear. Most likely it will come up again after Mobei-Jun has angered him several more times, and he decides to let it all out at once.

All this to say: Mobei-Jun does not respond to Tianlang-Jun's words. Merely grunts in acknowledgment, so he does not feel as though he has to say them again.

"Have you ever written a love letter before?" Tianlang-Jun slumps into a chair across from Mobei-Jun and props his feet up on the table, letting them fall atop the parchment holding the written out speech. "Because, if so, then I'm pretty sure he had no idea that it was a love letter. Is that how you talk to him all the time? I don't like him here, Qinghua. Make him leave, Qinghua. Bring me my blanket, Qinghua. Someone reading your letters would think he was your parent."

Mobei-Jun focuses on the words beneath Tianlang-Jun's shoes, even as he can feel his lips raising in a snarl. Those were the words he wrote. So Tianlang-Jun really did read the letter. This was not just a lucky guess that Mobei-Jun had fallen for his taunting. He knows the exact words.

Does that mean that Qinghua showed him the letter? Or that he broke in to the office to see it? One would be Qinghua's choice. Mobei-Jun could go and shout at him for it, but that would just make him do it more, most likely. The other option would mean that Mobei-Jun would have no choice but to challenge him to another duel. Another that he will lose.

It wasn't a love letter. That's why it didn't sound like one. Mobei-Jun has never written a love letter and never will.

"I think he was sad about it. If that's the kind of courting you're doing, no wonder he hasn't taken up your offer."

"Is there something Tianlang-Jun needs?" Mobei-Jun grits out between his teeth. He is speaking like this more and more frequently recently.

"I simply desire the chance to teach someone younger than me the proper way to woo a human, considering I'm one of the few demons who has ever managed it." That gives Mobei-Jun pause. Tianlang-Jun notices. "Considering the only models you may have for this kind of relationship would be myself and that son of mine, I had assumed you may want help. Unless, of course, you would prefer a relationship more like the one my son has built with his teacher."

"You have successfully courted a human."

"Famously, I'd say. Or infamously, I suppose, depending on who you're asking. But it certainly did happen. You can look to the emperor of our realm, if you have any doubt."

Mobei-Jun does not respond immediately.

There are two sides of him at war. He has been courting Qinghua for years with no discernible reciprocation. This Tianlang-Jun is one of the few people who may actually be able to help.

The other side of him is furious that this thought has even crossed his mind. This demon lord has intruded into his home uninvited and dares to comment on his relationship. As if he could ever know Qinghua the way that Mobei-Jun does. Mobei-Jun does not ask for help. He is the ruler of his Northern Desert. The second-in-command to Junshang.

Also, Tianlang-Jun is clearly waiting for him to ask for help. Sitting there, smug as can be, in patient silence. Mobei-Jun would rather rip his own throat out with his claws than ask for help from someone so clearly expecting him to.

Would he rather tear out his own throat or lose Qinghua, though?

If he accepts Tianlang-Jun's offer, it will not be as simple as agreeing. There will be strings attached. Mobei-Jun grew up in a family like this, too. Constantly trading information behind each other's back and holding things over each other.

Qinghua will not leave. He promised. They have time.

He lets the silence grow thicker in the room. Goes back to reading through the speech. If he ignores Tianlang-Jun long enough, he will likely go away.

It takes a good while. That is likely what happens when you try to wait out someone who spent the last few decades trapped under a mountain. Eventually, Tianlang-Jun allows the feet of the chair to scrape across the floor as he stands up and laughs.

"Well, good luck, then. I'll give you this one for free: your Qinghua is a man of words. Maybe try to do something about that, rather than begging for him to come clean up your messes." Tianlang-Jun raps his knuckles once against the surface of the table before sauntering out. It's good that he leaves so quickly, because Mobei-Jun is going to kill him if he has to look at him for another second.

*~*~*

It's kind of fucking frustrating, all the shit that's been going on recently. Shang Qinghua is always the person sent to deal with everyone else's bullshit, sure. Usually, though, there's a little bit of free time here and there. He can use it to sleep. He usually uses it to check in with his king and make sure that they are thinking along the same lines in the plans they're pursuing. Or to make sure he's doing all the things that Shang Qinghua trained him to do so that all the careful planning doesn't fall to pieces. Or to just get a chance to stare at him and be the perverted old man that he is. It's usually a fun mix of all of that. It's been happening more often that Mobei-Jun orders him to eat dinner together anyway, this past year or so. Sometimes it's those same hand-pulled noodles, and he's starting to get better at making them edible too.

There's been so much, with Tianlang-Jun's unexpected visit and the complications it brought to the Fox Clan's expected visit, and all the other everyday minutiae that comes from being the only person capable of running the demon realm or the human realm.

He misses it, though. The things that he gets to do when there isn't so much happening all the time. Evenings with his King, his favorite. Casual conversation with him, which really ends up looking more like Shang Qinghua rambling on and on about this or that while Mobei-Jun sits quietly and occasionally makes grunting or vaguely affirming noises to indicate that he has noticed that Shang Qinghua is still talking. Okay, so maybe the only thing that's really missing right now is his time with his king, but maybe that's the only thing worth missing anyway.

He makes his way over to the desk, flips over the stack of letters, starts going through them and adding information to The Overarching To Do List, shifting things in their priority rankings, moving figures across the VIP map and tweaking the color coding. There at the bottom of the stack is another one of those letters, same as the last time. Expensive, heavy cream paper with his name across the front in familiar handwriting.

Qinghua,

I have not seen you as frequently these past few days. There are many banquets. Eat lunch with me tomorrow.

Stop spending so much time with Tianlang-Jun.

Once again, there is no signature line. Once again, there is no need for a signature. It could not more clearly be from Mobei-Jun. It's him at his most neglected, entitled, and pouty. It reminds Shang Qinghua of the way he used to act when he was a teenager, actually, still coming into his power and unsure of his ranking within the family.

"See, I was thinking that was really more of a horizontal movement, but the ridiculous grin on your face makes me think I'm missing something and it was actually better." Shang Qinghua still jumps at Tianlang-Jun's voice, but he doesn't throw anything this time, because thought he might be stopping by again tonight. He just jumps whenever there's an unexpected noise. Sometimes also when there is an expected noise. "Any chance you'll be sharing with the class?"

"Tianlang-Jun," Shang Qinghua greets, bowing into a salute even though he's getting really fucking sick of this happening and would like to know how Tianlang-Jun so easily broke past the lock and talisman he had left on the door to his office. "In what way can this humble one be of service tonight?"

"See, you're so submissive and acquiescent when we're talking like this, Qinghua." Tianlang-Jun reaches out to lift Shang Qinghua out of his salute. There's an eager, boyish smile on his face and nothing behind his eyes. "Which is funny, because it doesn't seem like you follow through on the things we talk about." The smile grows wider, showing off just how sharp a full-blooded Heavenly Demon's teeth can be. "So eager to agree here, and then your actions go and betray all the trust of our friendship."

There is a fine tremor starting up in all of Shang Qinghua's limbs, something he's never quite figured out how to prevent when he's scared. His voice, when it comes out, is a high squeak. "Betrayed? If Tianlang-Jun would be so kind as to explain what he means."

"Qinghua," the word is chiding. "You told me you would be cooking food for your Mobei-Jun. And, yet, I saw nothing of the sort at dinner."

"There was a banquet!" Shang Qinghua yelps, because this is ridiculous. "We were welcoming the Fox Clan and he was giving a speech! I can't cook for him at a time like that!"

Again, Tianlang-Jun turns foxlike in the way he tilts his head to the side. More foxlike even than the Fox Clan that is visiting and that Shang Qinghua invented in a clear effort to pander to the furry demographic.

"Did he not cook for you?"

"He. Well. That's different! He knows I can't eat all that rotting stuff that demons like to eat!"

"Sounds like you could have cooked for him too."

"What do you want?" Shang Qinghua despairs. He made his bad guy too aloof and mysterious and now there's no way for him to even understand the points that he's trying to make. "I'll do whatever you want, just please stop with this whole intimidation game. I don't know what you're trying to do!"

"Qinghua, Qinghua," Tianlang-Jun saunters behind the place where Shang Qinghua was sitting and is now halfway to kowtowing. He's headed for the fucking tea again, not spiked, and Shang Qinghua has resigned himself to that. If that's what it takes for his chaotic-neutral villain to finally monologue and let everyone else in on what the fuck is going through his head, that's a small price to pay.

This is the part where he fucks it up.

Because he's so resigned to doing whatever needs to be done to make the person so much stronger than him leave him alone that he's not even watching him that closely, the way a spy master really should be. He sees Tianlang-Jun's hand reach out, and he doesn't do anything about it, because he thinks he's going for the fucking tea.

And then Tianlang-Jun is holding The Overarching To Do List. And it's too late to do anything.

Shang Qinghua still tries. He lunges up off the ground because there's nothing else to do when someone is holding your child hostage in front of you. At his first movement toward Tianlang-Jun, the motherfucker holds out his free hand and sets it alight with demonic fire, moving it slowly toward the stack of papers.

Shang Qinghua freezes. He doesn't move a fucking muscle, aside from the tremor wracking through every single one of them. He doesn't even allow himself to babble. He already asked the questions. Tianlang-Jun knows what he wants to know.

This is not a world where everything can be backed up to the cloud. This would be infinitely worse than losing his outline. That list is everything holding both realms together. There aren't copies.

"Ah, so this is what it takes to gain the full attention of one so important as the advisor to the king, Shang Qinghua. It's good to know something like that, when you're someone like me. A poor, homeless demon with no power of his own beyond what is granted by his blood. You understand why something like this might be necessary." He's monologuing, thank god, but he still isn't saying anything helpful, anything that will give any kind of fucking insight into what he could be thinking. Shang Qinghua has let him exist as a rogue entity for too long. It's not safe to have someone like this wandering. He needs more information.

"What do you want." Shang Qinghua does not ask, because there's too much space between each word for it to have that kind of inflection. He doesn't want to speak too quickly, because he does not know what sort of behavior will cause Tianlang-Jun to bring that flame closer to his Overarching To Do List.

"It seems that my good friend Qinghua is so busy with his lists that he had no time to follow through on our agreement." Interesting, that he's back to calling Shang Qinghua a friend, as if he hadn't just implied it was a threat. As if he isn't holding Shang Qinghua's most precious item hostage before his very eyes. "Surely, he will have more time to cook a dinner for his king if there are not so many other tasks cluttering up his time."

And

What?

What could possibly be the point of this? Shang Qinghua thought he was onto something, thinking that Tianlang-Jun was interested in Mobei-Jun, but this makes no fucking sense. How did they get here? He is going to scream. No more chaotic neutral villains ever, ever, ever again. No more characters that chase their whims from scene to scene. Every character from now on is going to have a clear and established set of values, consistent motivation, driving force.

No time for any of this. Whatever the motivation is, there is nothing for Shang Qinghua to do beyond hug those overpowered thighs and pray that he doesn't take it any further than this.

"Tianlang-Jun will return the list, after I do this?"

"Of course, Qinghua. I, after all, am a demon of my word. Your precious papers will be returned to you, as soon as you take the time to care for your king in the ways that he has taken care of you." Shang Qinghua would laugh at that, the idea that their relationship is unbalanced in Shang Qinghua's favor, but again. The fire.

"This one will do as you say, then."

"Good boy." Tianlang-Jun pats Shang Qinghua's head on his way out the door. Like a dog. He takes the list with him, but extinguishes the flame.

Shang Qinghua is left standing in the middle of his office.

He should do something.

There are hours before he usually goes to bed.

He can't just go to sleep.

There are so many things to do.

He has a whole list of all the things that he needs to be doing right now.

The problem, though, is that there's so much shit to keep track of every single fucking day. There's not enough space in his head to keep track of that, and every time he tries he just drives himself up the wall with no clue how he got there or what he needs to do to get back down.

So. The Overarching To Do List. He figures out what needs to be done, writes it down on the correct region of the list, and then erases it from his brain. He doesn't need to remember any of it. It's on the list. He'll find it again when he makes his daily to do list and when it's necessary for it to come back up.

It's a living document. There are no copies, because it changes seventeen times a day and is always shifting. He writes it in a horrible mixture of English and simplified Chinese characters, so that even if someone else in this world got ahold of the list that controls life across both realms, they would never know what it says or how to interpret it. Only Cucumber-Bro would ever have the context to read the information, and that's never going to happen, because he's far too content to live in his isolated little cottage while his husband waits on him hand and foot. And he'd never want to betray Shang Qinghua, because he's the one making sure Cucumber-Bro can relax and have a life like that.

No Overarching To Do List. No memory of what is even on that list. Nothing to do for the few hours where he usually sits down and makes significant amounts of headway into the neverending list.

There is nothing to do.

He could go to sleep, but there's no chance that he'll fall asleep right now. He's conditioned his body over the past several decades to spend this time awake.

He could go and cook a meal for Mobei-Jun right now. Would that count? Would that get him his list back right now? Tianlang-Jun had saiddinner, specifically. They've already eaten dinner. And Tianlang-Jun specifically pointed out that Mobei-Jun had cooked a meal for Shang Qinghua to eat when he was in front of everyone else. He had said that he would return the list when Shang Qinghua showed the same level of consideration for his king that his king has shown for him. Cooking something right now would almost definitely not meet those requirements, and would just add more tasks onto the pile.

Well. He was complaining earlier, wasn't he? About the lack of time he's been able to spend with Mobei-Jun recently. He might already be asleep, but there's nothing else to do. Maybe he'll go for a walk over toward his quarters and see if he's still awake now too.

Tianlang-Jun may be mad at him for this. His motivation is still so unclear, Shang Qinghua doesn't know what's going to set him off or what would make him happy. But he hasn't said not to spend time with Mobei-Jun, has encouraged it in some specific ways, so he's going to assume this is okay.

The halls of the Northern Palace are long and wandering. With so many different animal features integrated into the demon realm (again, many thanks to the deep and generous pockets of the furry community), there's never a moment where all the members of a demonic court are asleep. Shang Qinghua slips down the hallways, nodding at various nobles and servants as they go past. Everyone else is dressed casually, but Shang Qinghua needs to pull on several layers of draping robes and fur cloaks whenever he ventures outside of his personal chambers, especially at night. He feels like a huge, lumbering marshmallow as he walks down the hallway, all of his movements and sensations buffered by layers on layers on layers.

It's a long walk to his king's quarters. He had offered, after the whole incident with Shang Qinghua running away, to move his office and rooms closer, but Shang Qinghua hadn't seen much of a point. They rarely spend much time together in each other's rooms, and he's already put all his time and effort in finding the right combination of talismans and interior design and heating elements to make the temperature bearable. It would be so much work to design a new space like that.

The crowds thin out as he approaches the king's chambers. Mobei-Jun is not known for his friendly and welcoming demeanor. Someone looking to curry favor, gain his insight, lobby for policy would know better than to try and trouble him late at night. It would have the opposite effect.

Perhaps Shang Qinghua shouldn't be here at all, actually, when you think about it in that context. Maybe this is a dumb idea and he's about to see his king, mussed up from being awoken and furious, telling Shang Qinghua to leave him alone. Shang Qinghua tries to ignore the depraved part of him that feels excited at that image. It's one thing to be a masochist in a fun, sexy, pre-negotiated way. It's another thing to have your boss who has hit you before and could very easily kill you feature in those fantasies.

He tells himself this approximately five or more times a day. It hasn't worked yet, but he's holding out hope.

Besides. Mobei-Jun promised that he would never hit him again. Shang Qinghua has to trust that, because his entire life is built around trusting that right now. So, he pushes down any hesitation and knocks hard on the door. The wood is so thick and dense that it requires that kind of knock for anyone to hear.

It takes a minute and several more knocks before the door flies angrily open.

Mobei-Jun is standing in the doorway. His long, straight hair is caught and tangled on itself in several places. He's wearing loose-fitting, soft pants and a draping robe left open. That is all he is wearing. The endless expanse of his pale, muscled flesh on display has Shang Qinghua's mouth going dry. It could not be more clear that he had been in bed, got up when he heard the knocking, and threw a robe on as he walked over to the door. He was likely asleep, if the grouchy, squinty expression on his face is anything to go by.

What would he do, if Shang Qinghua dropped to his knees right now and blew him, just in the middle of the night in the middle of the hallway outside his chambers?

Maybe he'd let him. A mouth is a mouth. Maybe he'd punt Shang Qinghua across the floor and never talk about it again. Maybe he'd kick him out of the palace and find a different spymaster and advisor.

Shang Qinghua doesn't do it, just like he hasn't in the years that he's known him.

"Qinghua?" The grouchy, squinty face doesn't go away, but it softens a little bit. Likley relieved that it's not some politician here to try and talk about business.

"Ah, My King, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Something is wrong." The way this man never asks questions, just states what he thinks is true.

"No, no, nothing like that. Just here to-" To what? Just here to do what??? Why is he here? Just because he lost his to do list and has nothing to do? How does he explain that to him at all? "Ah, never mind. Never mind. Go back to sleep."

Shang Qinghua turns away from all that glorious skin and makes it only two steps away before he feels a hand clamp down on the neck of several layers of his robes and cloaks. He yelps as he is scooped up like a scruffed kitten. Mobei-Jun drags him back, slowly, spinning him back around to meet his eyes. Shang Qinghua reminds himself again (again again again again again) that he should not be turned on by his boss manhandling him.

"Qinghua does not often come to see me at this time." Again, not a fucking question, but he's still got Shang Qinghua held still. He's not going to let go without him saying something to explain himself.

"Ah, ha ha, My King. This one does not wish to disturb your sleep." Mobei-Jun flexes his arm in a way that makes Shang Qinghua brace to be shaken, but it doesn't come. He watches the intentional pause and forcible relaxation of that muscle, the same sort of thing he's seen several times since he and Mobei-Jun talked about the whole hitting thing. Still, the relentless, unblinking contact from his ice-blue eyes is cutting into Shang Qinghua, who has never been very good at staying quiet anyway. "It's just that I wasn't sleeping and I thought maybe you wouldn't be sleeping anyway and wanted to see if...ha ha, I guess just wanted to know if you needed something, or anything."

The squinty, grumpy expression has almost entirely disappeared into the usual smooth, blank lines of indescipherable emotion. Shang Qinghua does not know if that is a good sign or a bad sign.

"Qinghua usually uses this time to complete tasks and paperwork."

Huh. Shang Qinghua hadn't realized that Mobei-Jun kept that kind of track of what he's up to.

"Ah, yeah, I guess that's true."

"Qinghua is here instead." There is a tick at the corner of Mobei-Jun's eye. A usual tell that he is getting angry.

"Ha ha, yeah, Tianlang-Jun-" The hand in his collars tightens. There is no pain from it (all fabric, and that's good, it's good that Mobei-Jun is not moving him around by a firm grip on his neck), but the obvious reaction to the name still shakes him a little. "Tianlang-Jun came and took my list."

"The Overarching To Do List."

"Oh, uh, yeah. That."

Mobei-Jun drops the collars and goes to storm off down the hallway in the direction of the guest rooms. Shang Qinghua yelps again and starts to scramble after him.

"Wait, wait, My King, where are you going?"

"He is a guest in my palace. He cannot interfere with the work of my advisor."

"So, what, you're going to fight him?" At the skepticism in his voice, Mobei-Jun whirls around, the same hurt pout that he's had since he was a teenager.

"Is that not why Qinghua is here?"

"No!" Shang Qinghua wails. "I just thought that, if I wasn't doing anything and if you weren't doing anything, well, I guess." The pout has dissappeared off of Mobei-Jun's face, and he is no longer pulling away from Shang Qinghua to head toward the guest quarters. "Never mind. I'm going to just, I don't know, go to bed or something. My King should go back to sleep too. This one apologizes for waking you."

"You came here to spend time together."

Shang Qinghua sputters to a stop at those words, shocked and appauled that Mobei-jun would be so bold as to just go ahead and say something like that out loud, when they never do things like that. He can feel the heat of a blush flooding his cheeks, but Mobei-Jun just nods his head and grabs again at the scruff of his cloaks, before he can find a way to gather all of his words together. Without ceremony, he is dragged back through the doorway and finds himself in the king's private chambers.

In all the time that he has lived in the palace, he has not ever been in his king's bedroom.

The rooms are cold and yawning. The ceilings arc high and elegant above them, carved from a beautiful natural marble deposit and shot through with silver shaped to look like ice filigrie on all the support beams and molding. There is a fireplace in the corner, with a sumptuous fur from a Six-Headed Ice Cavern Leopard spread before it, but no fire in the fireplace. Mobei-Jun has never been the type to pursue any sort of heat, when left to his own devices. In a room this large, where an ice demon has spent the last few hours and the walls and ceiling are carved from stone, there is a kind of ringing freezing cold that cuts right to the core of Shang Qinghua's bones. He feels a shiver wrack through him almost immediately.

In the corner of the room, there is an enormous bed, covered in furs and blankets and pillows. They seem to have been constructed into some kind of nest, so that Mobei-jun can lay on top without having to bundle up in any way. Shang Qinghua hates that he knows this now. His mouth is dry just looking at it, knowing that it might still be cold from when he was laying in it just before Shang Qinghua knocked on the door. The blankets are rumpled and scattered. He could probably figure out a way to keep warm, if he bundled up in there enough. If he were going to sleep there.

Which he isn't going to do. Because they don't do that and never have and there is no reason to think that they ever will.

"Ah, My King, this really isn't necessary." The shivering is mostly from the cold, but Shang Qinghua would probably be shaking either way, with the way that it's basically automatic as a response whenever Mobei-Jun manhandles him like this. Yes, it is objectively fucking hot. This is the demon that was meant to kill him and that knocked him around before and from whom he has begged for his life. He should not be turned on right now. He can't help it.

Mobei-Jun does not seem to be listening. He pulls Shang Qinghua over to the chairs near the fireplace and sets him down in one before sitting silently in the chair across from him. They sit in silence for a second, staring at each other, while Shang Qinghua shakes with shivers, even through all his layers. After a bit of this, Mobei-Jun jerks back into motion and goes to light a fire.

"Wait, My King, you don't need to, that really isn't necessary." Shang Qinghua starts with a loud protest, but it strangles itself to a whisper when Mobei-Jun shoots him a scathing glare. Fine. Fine. He's the king here. If he wants to light a fire in his room then that's his problem. Shang Qinghua certainly isn't going to stop him, especially when the first wave of heat begins to emenate from the fireplace and he feels as his muscles unclench.

When he glances back over at Mobei-Jun, his face has gone well and truly soft, and there's something new and stunning about the way firelight plays off his cheekbones and the planes of his face. Something about this new light, the crackling of the flames, flips the moment from terrifying and cold to something warm and peaceful. Shang Qinghua settles back in the seat, snuggling down a little deeper into all the cloaks, feeling almost as though he should have some kind of warm drink as well.

And, suddenly, it's not so bad at all. He's not panicking anymore, becuase his king dragged him here. His king lit a fire. His king will throw him out when he is done speaking with him. All that he can do it wait to be told when his king's patience runs out.

"Well, My King, should I ask how your day went? It doesn't seem like there's much point, since I was there for most of it and had my people reporting back to me about everything I wasn't there for." Mobei-Jun snorts a delicate laugh, with all the effortless elegance of someone written as wish-fulfillment by a man with a competence kink. "I know you did well with the speech for the Fox Clan, even if I was busy prepping for the banquet instead."

"The Fox Clan," Mobei-Jun says, but there's a nuance to his flat tone that makes the words absolutely scathing. Shang Qinghua leans forward, grabbing onto the arms of his chair, and it's probably a good thing after all, that he's not holding a hot drink right now.

"Did they do something? Why didn't I know that you don't like the Fox Clan? It impacts our plans, and the rooms we give them, and the things we serve at the banquet. If you're going to cut them off as allies, you need to let me know yesterday, so that I can start getting everything in order for something like that. You have to tell me these things, My King, if I'm supposed to be your advisor and spymaster."

"Qinghua can know whatever he likes, regardless of reason."

"Oh," Shang Qinghua feels a blush rising on his cheeks, but they were already red from the cold, so it's probably unnoticable. What the fuck is going on in this place right here? "Well, great, appreciate that, but also I do need to know for my job. And also so that, when I write speeches, I can make them things you're actually willing to say."

"They are...overfamiliar." Shang Qinghua cannot help the way that he laughs nervously at that. It's unusual to hear his king express this kind of targeted hatred rather than a general dislike for everyone. It's funny, to hear him complaining. Also, that is not nearly enough information.

"My King, tell me more. What happened? I was only gone for a shichen. Surely nothing too horrible could have gone wrong in that time."

"One of their delegation has expressed interest in courting Qinghua."

And. Oh. Huh. Well, that's not at all what he was expecting this conversation to be about. It's also still really unclear why that would make Mobei-Jun not like them, unless-

"Ah, they really shouldn't be troubling the king with such things as that. And during your speech as well, no wonder My King no longer likes them. It shows a true lack of understanding for courtly manners. Which one of their party was it? This advisor will do what he can to remedy this situation."

There is a pause, enough to draw Shang Qinghua out of his ramblings and notice the way that the irritation has left Mobei-Jun's face, even as his eyes still rest heavy on Shang Qinghua.

"It was the younger general, with the long black hair and silver ears." If Mobei-Jun is looking for recognition in Shang Qinghua's expression, he finds it, because that's one of the Fox Clan that has been relentlessly seeking conversation with Shang Qinghua over the course of the visit, especially when he has seven other things that he really needs to be attending to. He is handsome enough, almost everyone in this world is, unless they're written to be some low-grade villain. It would be nice, if it were at all possible for Shang Qinghua to find himself interested in anyone over the screaming noise of his pathetic love for his king.

"General River Mud! Yes, I remember him. I wouldn't have expected him to interrupt official procedings in such a way. I'll have to make sure to update my notes on him." Shang Qinghua reaches for the brush he usually keeps just behind his ear, but it's not there, because he was settling in for the night in his office. Without asking, he makes his way over to Mobei-Jun's desk, taking one of his brushes and the thick, half-dried ink still in the dish. He's almost done scrawling the reminder onto his hand when he hears Mobei-Jun speak up again.

"It was not an interruption." Shang Qinghua glances back over at him, his sleeve caught between his teeth to better hold it out of the way while he writes, inconvenitently also blocking him from asking any clarifying questions. "General River Mud of the Fox Clan petitioned appropriately for royal permission to court Shang Qinghua, the king's advisor."

The sleeve falls from Shang Qinghua's open mouth.

"Oh shit." Mobei-Jun is just watching watching watching, waiting for Shang Qinghu to react. "Oh shit, okay, wait, that's not at all what I thought you were going to say. So, wait, okay, is he like officially courting me now? My King, if you blessed the courting, then you know that it would be a great offense to both himandyou if I didn't allow it to happen. So, wait, are you trying to marry me off to another clan?" His breathing is speeding up, and he can feel it. Mobei-Jun must be able to tell as well, because he rises to his feet and begins walking toward Shang Qinghua. "You can't send me away, My King, this place would fall to pieces without me running it and you know that. I can't go to the Fox Clan. I don't even have fur and what-"

Mobei-Jun sets his hand over Shang Qinghua's mouth. It is cold and large enough to cover from one hinge of his jaw to the other. He wants to lick it.

"I denied his request and sent him away." The words are so close. Mobei-Jun is so close. He's so much bigger than Shang Qinghua and his voice is so deep that it shakes the air between them when he speaks. Shang Qinghua needs to take a moment to remember what they're even talking about.

"Wait," he tries to say, but it comes out more like mphg until he is able to wrap his hands around Mobei-Jun's and push it away from covering his mouth. "Wait, but sending him away like that could be terrible for the relationship between us and the Fox Clan. My King, you can't just send away every person that annoys you. Why would you even do that?"

This is the kind of question that does not ever get an answer. Mobei-Jun acts based on his feelings and never takes the time to explain. His advisor must learn to take it all in stride and fix whatever mess was just made. Mobei-Jun is a man of action rather than words.

They're still standing so close, with Shang Qinghua holding his mostly-limp hands in the air between them, from when he pushed him away. There's something sparking in the air between them. In the firelight that flickers, dim this far away. Shang Qinghua is suddenly once again very aware of the bed in the room, large and comfortable behind him. They're so close that he can see the resolve settle over Mobei-Jun, a sure sign that there will be no response, before a thought clearly strikes him anew and he tilts his head, focused on Shang Qinghua's expression.

"Because Qinghua cannot go to the Fox Clan. Because this palace would not survive that loss." Oh shit, oh fuck. Somethings happening. Something is fucking different right now, and there is one long, unending scream echoing in Shang Qinghua's brain. One of those large hands lifts from his grasp to brush almost inperceptibly along the edge of one cheekbone, into his temple. There is a wry, soft smile at the corner of Mobei-Jun's mouth, if you are lookingveryclosely. "Because Qinghua does not have fur."

Shang Qinghua is a mouse in a trap. Pinned, wide-eyed, staring up into the eyes of a predator. Mobei-Jun's hand is resting along the side of his head, elegant fingers pressed into his hair, along the shell of his ear, against his temple.

He's waiting for something to happen. For Mobei-Jun to lean down and claim his mouth like it's his right. For him to laugh in his face and declare it all a terrible joke. Something, something, something but Mobei-Jun is carved from ice. He does not shift or react, simply holds them in that moment. He's watching Shang Qinghua like he's waiting for the same sort of thing, and this is too much. This is a dream. This is a trick. This isn't happening.

Shang Qinghua bursts into awkward and uncomfortable laughter, shuffles his way to the side until he's no longer pressed into that small bubble of space between his king and the desk. The moment shatters on the ground after him. He can practically hear the crack. It's fine. It's better than whatever might have happened if he hadn't done anything.

"Ah, My King, so kind, so kind. Of course this advisor would not leave. Come back to the fire. I have my notes now." He pats at the chairs they were sitting in earlier, awkward, awkward. Mobei-Jun stands with his back to him and the fire for one more breath before he turns and follows the directions, lounging in the chair like a throne. Good boy.

"No need for all that, then. My King told the general no, sent him away. This advisor will manage the fallout. Quick, let's talk about something else." Mobei-Jun does not look angry, but there is something of that pout back on his face, and Shang Qinghua can't look at it for too long or he is going to lose his mind. Anything else. "Oh! This one was wondering what My King's favorite food might be."

A pause, as Mobei-Jun clearly decides whether or not he is going to allow Shang Qinghua to get away with such a blatant effort to avoid any conversation about their most recent interaction. A deep sigh.

"This king does not care much for eating. He will eat what is provided for the occasion."

Right, see, Shang Qinghua knew that. That's why he doesn't already know what his king's favorite food is. Before today, he probably would have just answered that question by saying that he does not have one, that food has never been a source of particular joy for his king.

"Okay, and I know that, but surely My King must have some food that he prefers over others? Or some kind of cuisine he has been curious to try?"

"...Zha jiang mian," Mobei-Jun mutters. There are hints of a blue flush along his ears, and Shang Qinghua cannot figure out why. Where would his king have even had the chance to learn of the existence of zha jiang mian? The demons in his palace tend to eat meat raw or dried, with some rare fruits in the summer.

"Ah, good choice, My King."

"And Qinghua?"

"Huh?"

"Qinghua's favorite meal." Oh. That makes sense. That's how conversations tend to work.

"Hand-pulled noodles, My King." At that, Mobei-Jun dips his head in a firm nod of acknowledgement. This whole conversation is so strange. Everything about this night has been so strange. He has no idea what else they should talk about, and the conversation lapses into silence, the fire crackling between them. When Shang Qinghua cannot stand the quiet any longer, cannot stand the memory of the strange interaction over by the writing desk, cannot stand the looming presence of the bed in the corner, he lets out another awkward laugh, stumbles to his feet, brushes his sweaty palms off against his thighs.

"Well, this one has troubled you for long enough." He feels woozy, like the floor underneath him is rocking with each step. "I will take my leave and let you get back to sleep. See you tomorrow, My King."

"Not a trouble." Mobei-Jun does not stand to follow him or look particularly bereft, but the words ring through Shang Qinghua all the same. This is not how they speak to each other. He remembers the grumpy, sleepy look on Mobei-Jun's face when he opened the door. Interrupting his sleep like that is not a small offense. For him to say that it is not a trouble, now.

Well.

He doen't think on it any further. Better to just let that lie before his mind can get a proper hold on it.

Shang Qinghua extends his hand in a terrible little wave before he slinks back down the hallways, as if he were a criminal escaping the scene of a crime, except he literally was just talking to someone.

Back to the safety and warmth of his own quarters. Tianlang-Jun is not hiding anywhere in the corners. He checked. After that, there is little to do beyond curl up under the heavy blankets of his own bed and allow exhaustion to drag him under.

It's hours before he falls asleep.

#svsss #svsss fanfiction #my writing #svsss fic #svsssaction #scum villain #scum villian self saving system #moshang #mobei jun #shang qinghua #tianlang jun

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clevernightdinosaur · 6 months ago

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well, as a Percy fan, I know I shouldn't say this but I like fanfics where people hurt Percy, torture him, make him cry, or sad, or disappointed and hate himself, or cause him to have some mental illness or every bad thing that can happen to a human being.

they just, very interesting.

#percy weasley #don't know why #but he is the only character make me want to read those fanfic about him #not hate #btw #maybe because every fic I had read was written very well #and bloody long #very satisfying #sometimes those fic help me have more knowledge #about mental illness #because in my local #mental illness wasn't exist in people's mind #they think metal illness is lazy or something freak people come up with

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yeokii · 2 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ 𝓐.DORE YOU ❨ 이희승 ❩

꒰ synopsis ꒱ all hopes were crushed when you realized there was no way to get close to your crush, choi beomgyu. your advances to get close to him never seemed to work. so, you decided to get closer to his best friend, heeseung, by joining the broadcasting club. but as scripts change, so do crushes, and you end up falling for his best friend instead.

▸ auditions are open . . . !

ㅤ❕MATCHMAKER ── crush's bsf ! heeseung x reader

fast forward ⃕ [ genre ] : written, fluff, 90s/20th century girl au, slowburn

meet the members ! beomgyu, soobin, jungwon, karina, rei, sunghoon, lia, my ocs

warnings 𖧷 angst but also teeth rotting fluff, suggestive ─ kissing; making out, cursing, skinship, afab reader, mentions of parties and underage drinking, slowburn like actual slowburn u might fall asleep, heeseung has mommy and daddy issues (erm), mentions of injuries (nothing serious) heeseung is mean at first gn, heeseung typical cold kdrama ml, beomgyu fboy era real (01z on top what can I say) lmk if there's anything I missed!

ㅤhe's a real catch ▹ 23K (lol what.)

⌕ [ archives ] one result found . . . hi hi my heeseung long fic era is finally here !! also happy early birthday to my sewlmate @yenqa hope u like my silly little work books butt!!! I had the urge to write a hee fic after watching a time called you (but my inspo is mostly from 20th century girl) also yes I tried a diff type of writing so hopefully it doesn't come out as childish eurm and I did not mean to make it this long bye also ty yen yen for making my synopsis and for proof reading !! (love ya stinkabutt) alsooo the end won't be like the end?? like ill write some drabbles for this!! I just wanted to get this over with lmao anyways hope you enjoy !! reblogs and comments r very much appreciated ^^

The fall of nineteen-ninety-six marked a pivotal moment in your life. Ever since you came into the world, you never really could grasp the concept of love. You wrapped your head around the myths and tales your mother would read to you every night. You thought that every princess would have her own shining knight in armour. So after thirteen years of living, where was yours?

Your knight in shining armour, or knights in shining armour, existed within the pages of the comic books you read. You often wondered if they would magically pop out of your books and transport you into their world.

Similarly, you wondered whether any of the characters from your adored TV shows would step out and bring you into their lives.

So, it wasn't a surprise when your jaw dropped to the ground as you saw the most beautiful man in your life (well, technically, boy). If the epitome of beauty was a fourteen-year-old boy, it would be Beomgyu.

But it wasn’t just his face that made your thirteen-year-old self swoon over him, it was also the way he acted. You loved the way he conversed, his smooth way of talking at a young age and the way he smiled at you every time he made jokes with his friends. You loved how his eyes lightened every time he’d pull a silly prank.

But the problem was, he never talked to you. You admired him from afar. You never actually had the guts to talk to him.

As if You were content with watching his funny actions from a distance. There were some moments when you pushed aside your nervousness and talked to him.

You remember having butterflies in your stomach the moment you first talked to him. There were times when you both were paired up as project partners for a biology assessment and at that moment, you swore you would have worshipped the floor that your biology teacher walked on due to her giving you an opportunity like this.

You knew this was an opportunity to make your move. And you did. You brought him small snacks with little notes on them. Gave him gifts regularly. Maybe even took lessons from your best friend on how to subtly flirt with him. You really thought you had him. Because whenever you used to play out these little acts, you saw the subtle smile on his face. You were so close. It’s like the universe laid it out for you. Gosh, how lucky you were!

Luck. The luck that you thought you had. If luck was a person, you would’ve tackled it to the ground already. Because the day you were about to confess to him was the day he announced his new girlfriend.

His first girlfriend. You doubt you called it ‘love’ since the only thing she cared about was that he was popular and pretty. That’s it? All that girl could get from Beomgyu was his looks and his reputation. You could’ve scoffed at the sight.

Beomgyu was so much more than that. He was loyal, kind, and trustworthy. And she went for his looks. Even though she had him, you felt as if she was missing out on so much. You were partly sad due to them getting together and also due to Beomgyu getting used to his looks.

So, you were practically prancing when you heard the news of their breakup a month later. Did you care that Beomgyu was absolutely heartbroken? Well, yes, but you felt relieved that Beomgyu was finally unleashed from that mean troll's wrath.

And as he got older, he grew more handsome. And God did you love it. When you entered high school he was a completely different person. He had gotten more flirty and way more pretty. He was way out of your league.

Out of the years you were in this crappy high school, you made absolutely no improvement in your and Beomgyu’s relationship. Beomgyu, who kept getting new flings every summer and tons of situationships seemed to discard your existence. One could only say ‘What the fuck?’

Your thoughts swirled, and you had a collection of emotions roaming around your head until your best friend jolted you back into reality with a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

“Are you even listening?” Seori’s voice cut through your thoughts, annoyed, since she had to explain what she was talking about in the first place.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” you blinked, focusing your attention on your best friend.

She sighs, “I was saying that I think Doyoung is going to ask me out.” Seori pouts “Why does he not get that I don’t like him that way, jeez.”

Her ramble about her current boy toy washed out in the background. You were once back in your thoughts until you saw him heading into the cafeteria. Beomgyu entered the cafeteria, his smile widening at something his best friend said.

Lee Heeseung, Beomgyu’s best friend. His ride or die. As long as you can remember, they were attached to the hip. They were basically the package deal. If Beomgyu was the life of the party, Heeseung would hold up his hair while he threw up in the host’s toilet. While Beomgyu was the exact depiction of a social butterfly, Heeseung remained aloof, keeping people at arm’s length. You could only wonder how he dealt with Beomgyu’s outbursting personality.

“Earth to Y/n!” Seori snapped her fingers in front of your face which once again, brought you back to reality.

“Sorry.” you sheepishly smiled looking at your best friend's annoyed face. Your friend followed the gaze you had fixed before looking over to her. And her eyes followed the trail of your alleged ‘man’–– Beomgyu.

“Him again.” a sigh erupted from Soeri, having enough of your rambling over your four-year-old crush.

“I’m sorry, alright!” you pouted, your back hunching over the disappointing development between you two which was nowhere to be found. “He’s just so cute, God!”

Your sigh was followed by your best friend. Not long after, your best friend’s fed-up expression converted into a rather eager one.

“I got it!” she exclaimed, her hand hitting your back while she practically screamed. You winced in pain as a few fellow students gave you judgemental stares.

“All you have to do is be close with his best friend, Lee Heeseung.” she slowly said, almost like a mastermind coming up with a villainous plan–well, you would consider your best friend to be some sort of evil criminal.

But this, this opened new angles in your head. It felt like the universe–or more like your best friend–laid it out for you again. Your once unsolvable puzzle showed a new direction, and the missing piece was all in front of you.

Okay, maybe you felt bad that you were going to use Heeseung like that, even looking forward to it. But, you were really desperate. To the point where you would actually be eager to attend Sunday mass just to ask God for Beomgyu to like you back or even spare one glance at you. Well, what could you do?

Out of excitement, you pulled Seori in for a hug with a squeal while giving her a kiss on the cheek which she in return, yelped. “Seori, you’re a genius!”

“Yes, I know.” she laughed a bit, escaping your tight grip on her before wiping the spot you kissed her hastily with her hands.

“I mean, how hard could it be?”

You smiled and your gaze went up to the boy you loved for most of your life, then slowly to the equally handsome boy next to him.

Jackpot.

“God you’re such a pain to be friends with!” Beomgyu scoffed with a smirk underlying in his face, his hands in his pocket.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Well, you totally ignored that girl’s attempts to hit on you.” Beomgyu said, replaying the past moment that happened five minutes ago.

“Well, she was a nerd.” Heeseung shrugged, “Not exactly my type.” the boy said as they continued walking.

Beomgyu could only sneer at the hypocritic words coming out of his best friend’s mouth, “What do you think you are?”

Heeseung stopped in his tracks, taking great offence to the oh so harsh words said by Beomgyu, “Dude.”

Beomgyu in return, slightly chuckled at his ‘hurt’ face.

“Only kidding.” he said while they continued to walk to their next class, Beomgyu slightly bumping into Heeseung as a form of apology.

“You’re lucky I’m your best friend.” Beomgyu boasted. “Or you would be off with your little nerd antics.” he continued to tease the poor boy, loving the slight reactions his best friend gave.

“Honestly, what would you do without me?” he asked, giving a pat to Heeseung’s back which hurt too much for his liking.

They continued to stroll down the corridor, continuing the conversation with bits of banter here and there.

Beomgyu and Heeseung were basically peanut butter and jelly –– they just clicked. Every time you saw or thought about Beomgyu, his other part of him was always there. But they were practically the opposite of each other. You would stay up late at night during your daily night sessions of thinking about Beomgyu where you would wonder how in the world they became friends.

Heeseung on one hand was the most isolated person you’ve ever seen. His only friend was Beomgyu. You would only see him have a handful of acquaintances with his daily visits in the broadcasting club he was in.

Now Beomgyu was everything but isolative. He was the star of the school. Which meant he had a shit ton of friends. He was always the centre of attention. With his contagious laughter and a knack for mischief, he perfectly complemented Heeseung’s calm demeanour.

Heeseung felt like he was saved when Beomgyu walked in his life. No longer was he the lonely boy who sat alone in the cafeteria because they thought he was a weirdo or whatever. No longer was he the last to be picked for basketball in recess. He finally had a friend.

It was a bond that was made by the silliest circumstances. Heeseung still remembered it like it was yesterday. The day Beomgyu became his knight in shining armour. Back when Heeseung was five or six, he was troubled by the local elementary bullies he had to face every day at school. So he felt even more frustrated when he found himself stuck in a situation where he met his bully outside of school, in a park.

While almost being suffocated as he was being grabbed by the collar, a similar aged boy kicked his left buttock from the side so he would fall. It was a silly move, yes. A bit of screaming and newly learnt cuss words came out of the bully’s mouth and a few threats made Beomgyu scared out of his ass.

He was a pussy in the first place. He always was. So this took him a lot of courage because he had to point out the wrong and fight for justice, or so his favourite superhero at the time said. So naturally after putting on a tough facade, it quickly crumbled when the bully was about to throw a punch which made Beomgyu grab Heeseung’s hand and run.

To this day, nothing really changed. Heeseung is still the same shy, quiet kid he was and Beomgyu was still a pussy who acts before he thinks. And together they were the perfect match for each other.

You walked through the bustling hallways, barely managing to make it out alive with the sweaty teens packed inside, chattering away. As usual, it was always packed the minute the annoying school bell rang. You held onto the strawberry flavoured juice box you bought earlier as a gift for Heeseung so he knows that you come with good intentions –– kind of.

At the end of the corridor you made it to the broadcasting room. You felt a bit nervous, contemplating whether to do this or not. But you couldn’t back out now. This was your last shot at getting close to Beomgyu. Obviously you couldn’t.

You entered the meeting room with a nervous smile to see the faces of familiar people you saw in this school. The room looked cosy. There was obviously the recording studio across the room with a glass panel to see what was happening. A table in the middle, shelves with the older recordings of the morning announcements done by the seniors of the school, some bean bags here and there and a sofa at the end of the room. But what caught your eye the most was the little cork board hanging on one of the walls. It was decorated by a handful of polaroids of the broadcasting club.

At the corner of your eye, you saw one picture which relieved you a bit; a picture of Heeseung smiling as widely as he can. The picture brought a sense of happiness and removed the uneasy feeling you had in your stomach. He actually had feelings and wasn't a statue all the time.

Your thoughts were broken by the president of the club, Soobin. “Hi, you must be Y/n, yeah?”

To your eye level, you could only see his chest, so you had to look up to the sun to see his face. Jeez, was he tall. “Hi, yes I am. I came to join the club.” You spoke up nervously.

“Great! Welcome to the club, we’re happy to have you here.” Soobin warmly smiled, looking back at his members, prompting them to welcome, which earnt a cheery ‘hello’ from everyone except for the boy sitting at the end of the table, secretly rolling his eyes which you clearly noticed.

You didn’t know why he was like this with you. What did you do wrong? Well, technically you were about to do something wrong, considering the entire reason you joined the club was to use Heeseung as your own little puppet to get close with Beomgyu.

You sat on the only seat available, which was next to Karina. She greeted you with a comforting smile. A few minutes into the meeting and you already like you belong here even though you didn’t know jackshit about broadcasting or the fact that you would be scared out of your mind to do the morning announcements.

But aside from that, you felt like you had a good time. Except one thing was bugging you. The most important thing you came for. Heeseung. He converted and engaged in the conversation but had kept a distance with you. You, who didn’t do anything to him at all. More than you were hurt, you were confused. Trying to remember what you had done in the past to upset Heeseung, but none came to mind.

Every time you had given out a suggestion, everyone agreed except for him. He kept quiet when you opened your mouth. The uneasy feeling was eating you away so you leaned over to Karina.

“Is he always like this?” you asked her, your head discreetly pointing at Heeseung.

Karina followed your gaze and looked over to Heeseung, “Like what?” she looked over back to you, confused.

You hesitated for a second before spilling out the words, “Is he always this… cold?”

Karina chuckled softly, “Yes, but he’s sweet. He’ll take some time to warm up to you.” She reassured you, putting her hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry.”

This somewhat settled the uneasy feeling that roamed around your body. You engaged yourself back into the conversation the meeting currently had. And before you knew it, the meeting ended and the members bid Goodbye to each other, not forgetting about you.

Heeseung was quick to leave the club, simply waving to the people present in the club, looking past you with no emotion on his face. You felt like banging your head on the wall. What the heck did you do for him to hate you already? One look at you and he already despised you. Shit, were you that ugly? You touched your face, thinking if you looked unpresentable, but that didn’t make sense. You looked fairly average and well there seemed to be nothing wrong with you.

Shit.

Did he find out about your plan already? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Thousands of thoughts roamed around your head, each laced with panic. It couldn’t be. You hadn’t told anybody else about the plan you came up with. If he did find out, he had every right to be mad at you. You were basically using him as your puppet to get closer to Beomgyu. A slow wave of guilt was creeping over you. You cleared your throat and you bid the members that were getting ready to leave, not letting the guilt get to you. You followed Heeseung out the door and down the stairs.

You saw him walking down the stairs, his bag draped over his shoulder.

“Heeseung! Wait!” you said, rushing down the stairs.

He turned around to see you rushing down to meet him, “Hi, um… I thought you might like this.” you said, nervously as you handed the juice box over to him.

He took it and his gaze faltered down the drink in his hand. The next thing he did was one you never expected. He scoffed. He actually scoffed. Was something funny? You didn’t get it because if there was something, you’d be the first one to laugh because you did not let any joke pass over your head. You were confused. Was he… laughing at you?

You were the first to speak, “Did I do something wrong?”

“I’m not thirsty.” he said, looking at you. His gaze made your knees tremble. What the hell was his problem?

He handed you back the drink, but it was the least of your concerns. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday.” you said, your voice suddenly sounding dull, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

As you passed him you heard him mutter, “You shouldn’t”

“What?” you turned back. “I don’t get what I did?”

“I just… Why’d you even join?” he turned his body and looked at you.

“I felt like it. That shouldn’t be a problem to you.” you sternly said, not caring if it came off as ‘rude’ anymore.

“It would. You’d be bored after three months and leave.” you had the strongest urge to slap him in the face. You? Bored? Like hell you were going to be. Not when you can already foresee the future where he’s going to give you one hell of a nightmare.

“And then Soobin would have to hand over whatever comprehensible duty he gave over to you and put that on our backs.”

You were more so shocked by his choice of words rather than angry. And currently, you wanted to pour the juice box you had in your hand over his head.

“Well I won’t, So don’t hold your breath.” your nails pricked into the cardboard of the juice box you held, trying your hardest not to twitch your face or furrow your eyebrows.

He scoffed with a stupid smirk plastered on his face, shaking his head. Putting his hands into the pockets stitched to his trousers, he walked away from you.

“You're just like the others.”

Heeseung walked away leaving you feeling annoyed as well as frustrated. He was a complete jerk! The reassuring words Karina said to you before was no use now. You were sure he didn’t act like this when he first met the broadcasting members. So why was it only to you? But you decided it’s not worth caring anymore. He was just another obstacle in your path to making Beomgyu like you back. So you put aside your hurt feelings and straightened your back with one thing in mind; you were going to make that bastard like you.

Which is what you exactly planned on doing, standing in front of the wooden door, outside the broadcasting room again once again.

You swallowed the big knot that rested in your throat and opened the door. To your surprise you saw Heeseung sitting on of the chairs, headphones plastered in while his fingers flipped over the pages of a comic he was reading while bopping his head to the rhythm of whatever geeky music that played through his headphones.

Maybe he didn’t hear the door creaking open or maybe he wasn’t bothered to look at you, but either way you went and sat in front of him, clearing your throat to make him look up from the comic his eyes were glued to.

You didn’t know if it was the awkward tension in the room or you dreading to ‘apologise’ to the boy in front of you, but the moment his gaze fixated on you, your heart started beating twice as fast. Maybe it was how pretty his eyes looked with his bangs covering most part of it or how he resembled an innocent bambi–

“Can I help you?” He spoke up, interrupting your thoughts about him.

“I just wanted to apologise for yesterday, I wasn’t meaning to be on edge, but I was kinda nervous with meeting new people and you ofcourse! Not that I mean it in a bad way, I don’t think you’re bad or anything I was just–”

And then you realised that you were rambling.

In front of Lee Heeseung.

“I was just nervous.” And with that, you ended your lengthy sentence in a mutter.

You waited for Heeseung to look at you, waiting for his response and all you got was a quick sigh before he hummed.

Sorry, were you boring him?

But you did not have time to react as the door busted open with the tall president walking in, followed by Karina, Rei and Jungwon.

“Sorry guys, Lia and Taehyun got caught up with stuco meetings, but Karina will catch them up on everything.” He said, as he looked over to Karina, gaining a quick nod from her.

Everyone sat around the table as Soobin took his bulky notebook from his humongous bag that looked like it was filled with rocks. Jeez does this guy have a lot going on.

The meeting started where everyone started conversing and immersing themselves into the topics that the agenda listed. You even made a few suggestions that made the tall president smile at your already hard working attitude.

Which made you smile.

Which made Heeseung scoff.

It wasn’t a loud one, but you could definitely hear it from miles away. And even after you apologised! It made no sense, whatsoever.

You stopped focusing on the topic at hand and looked over to Heeseung, comfortably sitting on the chair with his legs spread and his arms crossed. Oh wow.

No. You couldn’t get carried away from his figure, or whatever his arms were doing to you right now. You were supposed to hate him, right? And right now, you were just kissing his ass, which is what you’re so good at — namely, your best friend pointing that out whenever you went to milk out marks of your biology paper from Mrs. Min.

Of course you didn’t mean any of the words that flew out of your mouth when you were doing your so-called apology. It wasn’t even your fault! He was the one acting like a jerk! Not you!

But deep under all this anger and your prejudice against him, you had the horrible feeling that he knew why you were here, sitting in an uncomfortable chair with the members of the broadcasting club.

And the truth was, he did know. He knew all about your little antics. He’s not stupid. And he’s not oblivious to see those raging eyes under that sort of cute but fake smile! In all these years of you attending this school against your will, you never spared one look at Heeseung. Your eyes were always and only on Beomgyu. So now why are you trying to befriend him? The one who was always in Beomgyu’s shadow?

Because like everyone else, you liked Beomgyu and your gateway was Heeseung. And it doesn’t take much to put two and two together, because it was the perfect plan that was all laid out.

“So everyone is onboard with having a bake sale for the game?” Soobin asked, just to double check with everyone.

He in turn received nods and yeses from the members and brought you back into reality, stopping you from thinking about Heeseung’s cold manners anymore.

You quickly nodded your head as well, putting your lips into a line.

“Karina, me, Jungwon and Rei can bake the goods, yeah?” He asked for the members’ approval in which they agreed.

“Then,” He looked down at his notebook and scribbled some writings over it and looked up again, “Heeseung and Y/n would be selling them.” Soobin looked at you and Heeseung. “Lia and Taehyun can pop into help from time to time if that’s alright.”

Did you hear that right?

Your name and … Heeseung!

You tried not to show how your eyes were practically gleaming as you eagerly nodded. Meanwhile, Heeseung was not having it. He sighed like he had just been drafted into war, but nevertheless nodded his head as well, just more slowly compared to yours.

But, this opened new opportunities for you and new doors and each of them ending with Beomgyu, your beloved. You just had to crack through Heeseung first.

It was one of those nights where you had nothing going on in your life. You called Seori, but she was busy getting ready for Yeonjun’s party which well — you were invited to go, but didn’t because you were too lazy to get up and get ready.

So you found yourself here, in the comic store your uncle owned, slurping on some instant noodles and reading the latest version of Fuller House. You weren’t going to lie, you liked it. You were just sitting on the owner's chair with your bowl filled with noodles on the table and other stuff which were related to the store such as records of the borrowed comics. You bopped your head to the song that the little radio beside you played— ‘Candy’ by H.O.T.

The door to the comic store opened as you heard the bell hanging on it ring. Surely you weren’t bothered to look since the scene you were reading was far too interesting and Ryder was far too handsome to take your eyes off him!

“Welcome, please feel free to look around and pick up any of the comics you like. If you’re looking for something specific, let me know.” Although it was supposed to sound enthusiastic, you put in your own twist making it sound like those automated recordings you hear on those phone calls.

You finally looked up to see who the man was when you were going to gobble a mouthful of the tasty ramen you had. You didn’t quite see the face of the mystery man that came to him as he was quick to look at the various comics displayed on the shelves in front of you, making his back face you.

You saw him pick out a comic book with a cover that you couldn’t quite recognize even if you had registered over thousands of comics here. After squinting your eyes a bit, you realised he picked out ‘Demon Diary’.

So he’s a nerd.

He turned sideways and to your surprise, it was the devil himself—Lee Heeseung.

“Heeseung?” You said, rather loud.

Due to your shock and his name being yelled in the store, he dropped the comic and looked at you, startled—even going as far as letting out a cuss word.

“Hey man, keep it PG13.” You giggled, seeing his shocked figure, in which he rolled his eyes. “My Uncle’s at the back.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, still shocked, because you were the last person he wanted to meet right now.

“Me? I work here.” You smirked, “What are you doing here?”

“I mean, I've never seen you rent books from here.” You added on.

“I was…just searching.”

“Right.” You said, smiling.

Why is this nerd so awkward?

“You dropped the book, you know?” You said, looking at the fallen book on the ground.

“Right, sorry.” He muttered, rushing to keep the book back on the shelf which resulted in more books falling due to his clumsy demeanour.

“Fuck.” Luckily, he caught them just in time and looked at you with the same cold glare he did earlier, but just a bit more awkward and maybe, embarrassed?

And just like that he left, rushing out the door.

He didn’t even say bye.

How rude.

From that day onwards, he felt more awkward around you. You just didn’t know why. Everytime it was your turn in the roster to announce the morning announcements in the broadcasting room, he had nothing but an emotionless expression and a thumbs up when recording it while you sat in the studio. The other days felt even weirder as you tried to talk to him, but he was quick to go in the other direction. Your head thinks that he avoided you out of embarrassment, but it still left an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

“He’s just so weird!” You said to your best friend while plopping onto your bed.

She was currently sitting on your vanity with a bunch of makeup brushes spread around the table and countless amounts of eyeshadow palettes opened. Apparently, she was practising to ‘enhance’ her looks to impress her new boytoy—Sunghoon.

One of the players on the football team alongside your Beomgyu.

Seori just hummed along to your rambles about Heeseung. Well she did care, but God how long can a person hear her best friends rant about the same guy for over an hour.

“And you know what he did?” You abruptly said, sitting up from your bed, “He just went! Without even apologising!”

“For what?” Seori asked, looking at you through the reflection in your vanity mirror with furrowed eyebrows.

“For his bitchy attitude.” You just had the urge to roll your eyes to the back of your head with the way Heeseung had been acting.

“Oh, only if I could punch him in the face.” You sighed.

“Just leave it Y/n. And I mean this whole thing. It took you what–so many months for your plan to talk to this Beomgyu boy and now what? All you’ve gotten is nowhere. Just move on, babe.” She said, while leaning into the mirror to apply her mascara.

“Seori, Beomgyu is not just some boy. And actually, it’s taken me only weeks for this Heeseung plan. He’s just cold. That’s it. Karina said that he takes time to warm up to people so I think if I get past this stage I could really be friends with him.” You justified your plan, which Seori might call you a bit (a lot) delusional for.

“Alright, Y/n.” Seori sighed, “Whatever you say.” She turned around to look at you.

“I’m just saying, be careful.” Seori said, concern laced on her expressions, “Things don't always go the way you want it to. Just go with the flow.” She smiled.

“Wow, when did you take philosophy classes?” You said, having an amazed expression for sarcasm.

She rolled her eyes as she took out her eyeliner on the table, “Now, come here. You know you do my eyeliner the best.” She said, smiling.

You rolled your eyes playfully and stood up to go towards your best friend, taking the eyeliner from her hands and starting to carefully draw lines at the bottom of her eyelid.

Your best friend was practically the opposite of you. While she finds a new man every week, you’ve been hung over the same guy for the past four years. But having her here and listening to all your rants about him and his rude (but cute) best friend is something that you wouldn’t trade for the world.

As tomorrow was the big day for the game, you were determined to win Heeseung’s friendship as a way to Beomgyu’s heart.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the day you anticipated the most arrived. You looked at yourself in the vanity mirror and tightened your slicked back pigtails tired by hair ties with small bows on them.

You were determined to somehow crack that little arrogant bastard—Mr. Lee Heeseung.

So you packed everything you needed and headed to the stadium which you found out was filled with hundreds of teenagers and teachers patrolling the stadium, looking like they had been tasked with finding the cure to cancer.

Oh was it a sight to see. You could smell the freshly watered grass and hear loud chatters of people conversing with each other—some even yelling. A sweet melody flowed into your eyes through the humongous speakers situated around the stadium. You were going to love today.

You quickly tried to find Seori and lo and behold, there she was, situated in between Sunghoon’s arms as Sunghoon whispered into Seori’s ear and her later laughing like it was the funniest thing that was ever said.

You ran up to them, waving Seori and Sunghoon as well—although you’ve never even spoken to him.

“Ah, my girl is here.” She squealed as she broke free from Sunghoon’s grasp and hugged you tightly.

You awkwardly hugged Seori back, trying to catch your breath from her tight grip while saying hello to Sunghoon who was smiling at the scene.

“You look adorable.” Seori mumbled to your ear, “So adorable that Beomgyu might fall for you the moment he sees you.”

You couldn't help but slap on a big smile after your best friend said that. “You think so?” You asked, touching one of your pigtails in which she nodded in return.

Sunghoon on the other hand was called out by Jake, his friend and teammate, “Babe—I mean, Seori, I have to go. Coach is asking for us to meet at the locker room.”

“Oh right.” Seori giggled as she quickly kissed Sunghoon on the cheek and waved him ‘Goodbye’ after saying that she’ll cheer him on.

Cuties.

Except that could be Beomgyu and you right now, but the universe apparently hated you.

“So, new boyfriend?” You wiggled your eyes at the blushing girl in front of you.

“No!” She exclaimed, “We just, I don’t know.” Seori mumbled.

“Well, if you want him; you need to date him, fast!” You warned Seori, “I just saw him with Wonyoung not long ago. And I don’t know, she looks like she really likes him.” You said.

“What?!” She yelled.

“Don’t worry,” You laughed at her furious, but cute expression, “With the way you kissed him he looks like he’s a goner.”

“Heeseung looks it too.”

“What?” You spaced out.

Why is his name being mentioned?

Suddenly all the emotion in your face drained away, like you couldn’t give two fucks about the boy that had it against you.

“He looked like he was two seconds away from a heart attack when he looked at you.”

“What? You saw him?” You questioned, looking around to find the rude boy.

“Yes, you know the bakesale is like the opposite of where we’re standing right?” She lowered her head asking for confirmation.

“Oh.”

Does he think I’m pretty?

But then you remember what Seori said. The bake sale.

“Oh shit, I have to go.” You abruptly said.

You and Seori parted ways after saying ‘Goodbye’ and you headed to the bakesale with a man standing behind the table of baked goodies.

Heeseung was preparing the goods as he aligned them perfectly, keeping the doughnuts next to the brownies and so on.

You soon caught on and went behind the table to do what he was doing.

“That’s new.” He mumbled.

You were shocked that he even talked to you.

But, hey. At Least he made your plan a bit easier.

“What is?” You asked in confusion.

“Your hair.” He said, not even sparing one look at you and keeping his focus on taking out the baked goods out of the trays next to him.

“Yeah, I tried something different today.” You smiled, thankful that he noticed your hairstyle.

“You look like a dork.” He simply said, as he went away taking the empty trays to wherever he was off to.

That bitch.

So he doesn’t think I’m cute?!

Your mouth was left open as you processed what he said.

As if he looks good.

Well, he does.

But that’s not the point!

Your eyebrows furrowed as you let out a huff, leaving a pout on your face. You didn’t let his stupid comment affect your whole mood so you just continued with doing your tasks as his words went to the back of your head.

Heeseung and you continued to sell various types of cakes and other baked goods while you took a little bite from one of the chocolate doughnuts that was eyeing you the entire time. And you swore, you could see Heeseung subtly smiling at your cute actions from the corner of your eye.

Soon after, the bakesale was long forgotten as everyone focused on the game and the star of the team, Choi Beomgyu. He skillfully passed the members of the opposing team with the ball tangled around his feet. The team needed one more goal to win the entire thing and time was not on their side.

Beomgyu had two minutes left on the clock to somehow magically kick the football into the goal. And just before you knew it, the crowd went crazy, screaming for their new champion—Choi Beomgyu.

He successfully saved the entire team by winning in the last moment and you adored the way his proud smile never left his handsome face even once.

Heeseung beside you was cheering for his best friend when he won. You couldn’t help but smile at his excited expression which was a rare sight to see. He soon ran to Beomgyu and hugged him as he praised the ace of the team. Soon chants of Beomgyu’s name echoed throughout the stadium.

Ah, were you proud of your future boyfriend.

Maybe this was your chance. A chance to finally talk to him. Since no one was at the stall as they were all focused on the ace in the middle of the stadium that was sitting on someone's neck as people chanted his name, you thought to bring him a bottle of water. Maybe even compliment his football skills (even if you didn’t know shit about football).

You took an unopened water bottle from one of the boxes and when you looked at the stadium again, the crowd seemed to move. Fuck, you couldn’t lose him!

You started searching as people started to leave the stadium while some were idling around the benches taking pictures with their Fotoman cameras. The crowd was still very much alive, just the reason for it was missing. Could he have disappeared that fast?

You scanned the grounds one last time and at the corner of your eye, you saw a pathway which led to the boys’ locker room. Well, you had to do what you had to do.

So now, you were standing in the middle of the empty boys locker room with a little water bottle in your hand and the desperation pouring through your eyes to find the star of the day.

But lo and behold, you found his trusty sidekick. And you wanted to laugh, because of the shriek he just let out which led you to think that this was a bit familiar to the situation you were in a few days ago.

“What the hell are you doing in here? You perv!” He whispered, shouted and looked around and back at you with a glare shooting right at you.

“Hey! I’m not a perv! I was just looking for Beomgyu to give him some water–” But before you could finish your speech, Beomgyu and a group of guys were heard coming into the locker room which obviously you couldn't hear as you were too busy defending yourself.

“What! Hey! What are you doing?” You almost shouted as Heeseung pulled you into one of the showers and covered your mouth with his somewhat sweaty palms.

And now, it was just you pressed against Heeseung's chest as his hand involuntarily found his way to your waist to create more space in this uncomfortably tiny shower that could clearly fit only one person.

“Who’s the perv now?” You whispered to yourself, looking away from him, but also internally freaking out that he was so close to you.

Maybe if you were some other girl like Minji from fourth period who could not stop rambling on about Heeseung or maybe the lunch lady that always looked at him with a smile and gave him extra chicken, you would be a puddle.

But you’re not, or so you think that way. Yet you couldn’t deny the quickened beats of your heart which you hoped that Heeseung couldn’t hear given that your chest was literally against his.

You heard Beomgyu outside talking with some other players in his team about the match which made you smile. But you swore that you could see Heeseung rolling his eyes at your expression which honestly you couldn't care less, but to give him a quick punishment, you thought it would be fun to pinch his stomach where your hand was currently pressed against.

Seeing his shushed pained expression and his glare at you only made you smirk even more, but your little feud was quickly sent away as Beomgyu’s ongoing conversation got you distracted.

“You should’ve seen the girls!” One of the football players said, “God, they were so hot! I almost missed a shot because of them!” He drooled.

Gross.

“Yeah, especially that Seori girl.” The other boy said.

Seori? As in my ‘Yoon Seori’? My best friend?

“Fuck, she was hot.” Beomgyu spoke up.

And at that instant, all the colour on your face drained away. You knew most boys always had a weird way of talking about girls, but you never expected your best friend’s name to be passed around like this, especially by your crush. Your pout only increased when you heard them talk even further and you felt a lump in your throat. This cannot be happening.

“Yeah, but isn’t she with Park Sunghoon? I saw them kissing and shit.”

“Awh fuck me, I was going to ask her out.” Beomgyu half heartedly laughed at his missed chance.

So he knew who you were—given that you were always with Seori—and he was going to ask her out and not you.

Ouch.

You inhaled slowly, trying to not let your tears fall out as you forgot about the male that was beside you who was watching every expression that came out of your face.

Heeseung didn’t know why, but he didn’t like seeing your face all sad and mushy. Every time he saw you, you were always giggly or mad at him or trying to put on a fake smile just to get closer to him. But he’s never seen this. And he did not like it, even though he didn’t know why.

And without thinking, he pulled you closer to him.

Hugging you tight.

You were more shocked than sad as you looked at him. You let out a gasp as he held you tight against his chest and your heart skipped around four or five beats. He wasn’t looking at you though. In fact, he looked at anything else or than you, since all of a sudden, the soap that was lying on the soap dish looked very interesting.

He looked very, very red––from the tip of his forehead to the bits of his neck that was covered by his t-shirt, he was red. His pointy ears that were peaking out were red, his cheeks were tinted with a rosy colour and you couldn’t miss out on how his adams apple bobbed as he took the biggest gulp ever!

But, why did you like it?

You shouldn’t.

You liked the man who was outside the shower.

Wait, is this his way of trying to comfort me?

That’s actually kinda swee—”Guys! Come outside! Coach wants to take photos!” One of the members that barged into the locker room yelled before all the soccer players scurried away and went outside the room and onto the stadium.

You could finally let out the breath you were holding in. But Heeseung already shoved you aside and threw himself outside the shower.

You still couldn’t speak of what just happened, but Heeseung was quick to fill in the gap of silence.

“We sold enough stuff today, right?” He said, rubbing his pants against his jeans as he looked anywhere but you.

You blinked out of your dazed zone and looked at the nervous boy, “I think s—”

“Great! Okay, I’ll go and start cleaning up.” He said, as he interrupted you before leaving the room.

What just happened?

You should probably tell Seori.

She deserves to know, right?

“Y/n, what’s that big head of yours thinking?” Seori pouted as she put her arm around your shoulder.

Damn, she saw right through you.

You honestly didn’t know what you were thinking or who you were thinking of. When you paint a picture you see Beomgyu and his pretty locks of hair falling right in front of his eyes, his boyish smile and spark in his eyes

But

Next to him, you saw Heeseung.

Heeseung who has his forehead shown and his stupid locks which parted it, that stupid twinkle in his eyes which you wish you could gauge out and his slight smile forcibly lighting up that spark in you

Now you were stuck, stuck in between two of these boys. You definitely liked Beomgyu! Right? That’s what you keep repeating in your head, but the lines slowly blur as Heeseung’s name enters your head which makes you go into a spiral.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?” You snap out of your thoughts and look at your best friend with the eyes that resembled a lost bambi.

“You okay?” She asked, with genuine concern.

“Yeah, sorry.” You laughed it off, “I’m just tired from that soccer match.”

“Right.” She dragged the word while looking at you suspiciously.

“I’m fine Seori, I mean you would be too after selling around a hundred cupcakes.” You laughed, trying to change the topic.

But lo and behold, the universe was against you once again because as soon as you finished talking, you saw the boy that you were stuck in the showers with yesterday.

The pace of the students walking through the halls seemed to slow down. Everything else felt blurry except for him, the boy that hugged you tight yesterday. The usual hustle slowly faded into the background, leaving the world feeling slightly out of focus—at least to you. To your surprise, he looked even more handsome than he did yesterday. Wait, was he glowing?! Your mouth was agape as you intently fixed your gaze on him.

“Y/n! Snap out of it!” Your best friend brings your focus back to where you were.

“Huh?”

Seori’s gaze followed on where your eyes were previously set on and it ended on Heeseung’s stoic face. A series of ‘oh’s left her mouth as she looked at you, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I knew you would move on!” She squealed, locking her arms with yours.

Did you?

“Seori, I think you’re mistaken. I was just–”

“Don’t lie, Y/n. I know that stare when I see it.” She fixed a teasing smile on her face.

“Seori, there’s nothing going on.”

You couldn’t deny the fact that Her words hit you hard. Have you really moved on from Beomgyu? Just a few seconds ago, you were thinking about him.Yet, you couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling of Heeseung lingering above your thoughts laced with Beomgyu.

“You can’t deny that you weren't just drooling for Heeseung. Not Beomgyu.”

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. "I don't know, Seori. It's...complicated."

Her eyebrows furrowed as a sign for you to elaborate, but you debated on whether telling what happened on the day of the soccer match and what you heard from Beomgyu.

“It’s just really complicated.” Was all you could say, “Don’t worry about it!” You forced your lips into a tight smile which in turn Seori let out a sigh and continued walking as you both tried shaking off the conversation you just had.

Was it really though? You just may find Heeseung a tiny bit attractive after he allegedly hugged you tight in the showers—although not knowing it was intentional, you still very much like Beomgyu who wanted to ask your best friend out! Not that complicated, right? Maybe you found Heeseung a bit cute and maybe not much of a jerk like he showed you to be, especially when he hugged you, revealing he was more than just a cold facade. But what you couldn’t seem to ignore was how your heart flipped seeing his features in the crowd as his bambi eyes shone while his heart shaped lips formed into a pout as he talked with the other students.

Nonetheless, a little touching here and there and a confused bundle of feelings wasn’t going to derail your plan. You were determined to get this to work no matter what. And plus you were very loyal to your man. You think so.

That night, a suffocating silence forcefully clung to the air as Heeseung sat on the dinner table with his parents, the atmosphere always carrying a sense of thick tension whenever his parents were around. He sat next to his brother while his parents were seated across him, boring their eyes onto him with a stern look. With the silence they gave him, Heeseung felt a tight knot into his stomach that felt like it would burst any minute.

The only sound that could be heard was the spoons and forks clanking against the dinner plates while the fan’s motor could be heard throughout the room. Although the smell of home cooked japchae filled the room, Heeseung hardly touched his food as he just poked his food with his fork. His father broke the awkward silence first,

As the silence of the man sitting in front of him spoke volumes, he was first to break the silence, “Son, how did the maths test you had last week go?” Heeseung’s father inquired while staring at him.

“I got a seventy.”

Heeseung knew he fucked up. The young boy couldn’t help but shrink under his father’s scrutinising gaze. His cheeks held a hot shade of red as he looked at all the food scattered on his plate. He knew that what was about to come was another lecture from his father’s mouth and small scoldings from his mother as well.

“Seventy? Heeseung what have I told you?” His father’s voice grew stern.

“Honestly, what the absolute hell are you doing with your life? Last time it was an eighty, and I let it slip because maybe you weren’t doing well. But now I think you’re just lazy,” His father scoffed, “Why can’t you be more like your brother? Look, all his scores are above ninety and that’s all I ask from you.” He said, pointing at the younger boy sitting beside Heeseung with his fork.

Heeseung didn’t even bother looking at his brother, knowing all he could return was a guilty and pitiful face. Honestly, why couldn’t he be more like him?

“Stop spending time with those useless cameras of yours and actually focus on your studies!” Heeseung flinched at the sudden rise of voice from his father which he hated to admit that it affected him.

“They’re not just cameras, Dad,” Heeseung mumbled, gulping the dry knot stuck in his throat.

“What was that? Yeah right, as if cameras are going to help you excel in your studies,” He scoffed once again. “Maybe it’s that Beomgyu boy that you hang out so much with. That boy is nothing but a negative influence on you.” He spat.

And that was the first time where he finally looked his father in the eye now as Heeseung finally looked up from his plate and shot back the same nasty glare his father gave him, “Don’t call him that.”

“I see, now he’s more important to you than your own family. So what if I call him that, then what?” He provoked Heeseung.

Heeseung knew if he acted up, the consequences would be worse. He looked at his mother for any sign of help, but all she did was stare into her plate in fear of getting scolded by Heeseung’s father as well. Not being able to handle the situation anymore, Heeseung stood up from the dining table and left the house, not caring about the shouts that came from his father’s mouth.

The only thing that came out of your mouth was quiet snores. You were sleeping again after promising your mother you just needed a five minute nap afterschool which resulted in six hours of sleep, resulting in the time being seven pm now.

The door abruptly opened showing your older brother shouting at you trying to wake you up, “Y/n! Come on! Get up!”

“What the hell! What do you want?” You asked in a groggy voice, your eyes still closed.

“Go buy me some ramen.” He simply said.

If you had the power right now to strangle your brother to death, his soul would be on the stairway to hell right now.

“Fuck off!” You said as you hid yourself under your comfortable sheets.

Your brother in turn grabbed the sheets leaving you cold, “Go right now.” He said while throwing you some notes of money.

“Or what?” You provoked him, your hands rubbing against your arms to keep you warm.

“I’m telling everyone that a certain someone came home from school, crying because they wet their pants in eighth grade.” Your brother said in a sing-songy voice and a cheeky smile.

Your eyes shot open and you looked like you could kill him in five different ways. Because not only was he blackmailing you right now…but it was also in fact true.

Before you could chase him, he ran out the door, closing it shut after yelling what flavour of ramen he wanted.

“Ugh!” You growled at your peaceful sleep being interrupted by your annoying brother and his tasks.

You thought it was now a good time to wash your face and get rid of the way your bed was calling your name and looked more attractive than ever. Rolling your eyes, you wore your favourite red and white striped sweater and grabbed the money from your bed and left the house, flipping your brother on the way out.

You stepped on onto the chilly streets of Seoul and walked through the concrete roads to the nearest seven-eleven you could find. The walk wasn’t that long yet you felt like the sleep was getting to you from the way you felt already exhausted by the five minute walk.

You walked into the store getting whatever ramen your brother liked and an ice cream for yourself to reward you for the hard work that you did now.

As you licked onto the vanilla flavoured ice cream, you were on your way back home while the chill breeze ran through your legs. Fuck, I shouldn’t have worn shorts.

And now that you think about it, you were only here because of your stupid older brother. With the amount of laziness he had in him, you had a hard time finding accepting the fact that the couch potato that’s probably sleeping in your bed got into a good university and actually has a life.

Oh how you could strangle your brother right now for his lazy bum. Only if you could have one day with him, he’d be scrambled eggs by now. Oh only if you coul—

“Ouch!” You winced as you suddenly trip onto the ground, bruising your knee. Luckily, your ice cream was still intact, though its liquid melted onto your skin, dripping down your hands.

“The Gods hate me today!” You whined as you looked at your ankle in pain, “My poor knee.”

You looked up to find a place to at least sit so the pain would go off. To your surprise you found a nearby park which you used to visit all the time when you were a kid. You crossed the street and entered the park lit with rusty street lights.

Wait a minute…

As you walked into the park, you saw a male figure sitting on one of the swings while his back was hunched.

That hoodie looks too familiar…

And then it clicked. That hoodie was the one Beomgyu wore when he went on one of the class trips. As much as it was a rare sight to see him attending these class trips instead of skipping them, you vividly remember it because that was one of the few times where you actually talked to him.

So you slowly went towards the figure, acting like you didn’t know who he was just so you could sit on the swing next to him with the excuse of having hurt your knee.

As you slowly approached the male figure, you could kind of make out his face shape and then you realised that it wasn't Beomgyu at all.

“Heeseung?”

You saw him flinch at the surprising sound and his eyes shot wide open to look at you, “What the hell? You scared me, woman.” He said, trying to calm down.

Much to your surprise, another one of your failed attempts.

Heeseung looked at the ice cream in one hand that was already melted and the ramen that was in your plastic bag in the other. His gaze then slowly went towards your bleeding knee.

But you didn’t take his observation to note as you huffed while throwing your already melted ice cream into one of the garbage cans nearby and sitting down on the swing next to him, placing your plastic bag with a ramen packet inside on the ground, wiping your ice cream coated hands onto your sweater.

“What the hell did you do to your knee?” He inquired, a rough tone escaping from his mouth.

“I fell down.” You mumbled as you unconsciously pouted.

“And you’re not going to do anything about it?” He asked, amazed by the fact that you’re not bothered at your literal bleeding knee.

“I don’t want to walk all the way back to get a stupid band aid.” You sighed, looking down.

Heeseung felt uneasy by the sight of your state where you looked like you gave up. He let out a sigh and probably a curse to what you could hear and got up, “Wait here.” He said as he left the park.

Your eyes looked up at the boy who slowly disappeared into the dark, wondering where he went. But you didn’t care anyways. Maybe Seori was right, you could never be able to get close to Beomgyu. Even the Gods are against it. Your pout came out even more as you thought about it even more.

As you looked through the park, your childhood memories fluttered open as you remembered the numerous amount of times you played Hide and Seek with Seori or the endless amount of ways you managed to trip on the grass and form a new bruise somewhere where your mother always made a fuss about.

You sighed and glanced at your bleeding knee. You winced at the burning sensation it gave you and the sight of fresh blood splattered on your knee making you cringe as you had a trickling urge to wipe it all off from your sweater, but you knew better than that. You wondered if Heeseung would stick to his words and actually come back

Just as the thought of the young boy entered your mind, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching you. You looked up to see Heeseung returning, holding a small first aid kit in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. A wave of relief washed over you as you released the breath that you didn’t realise that you had been holding.

Without saying another word, he got down on one knee and opened the first aid kit. He took the small piece of soft cotton and started to clean your wound. Next, he took some antibacterial cream and applied it onto your fresh wound.

A hiss came out of your mouth as your leg jerked away from his touch. He looked up with a stoic expression on his face, “Stay still.” He commanded.

Your pout quickly went away as his hand came into contact with your leg as he tried to hold it for a better grip, his touch being surprisingly gentle. You gulped as you looked away from the sight. He was being too kind for your liking. You were surprised that he didn’t walk away the moment he saw you.

After patching your wound up with a bandaid, he got up, taking the water bottle that was on the ground, and you looked up at him, searching for an answer as to why he did something that was so out of character for him.

“A thank you would be nice,” He scoffed but the confused look made him sort of understand what you were thinking, “I just... hate seeing blood.”

He gave you the water bottle. “You should be more careful, dork.”

You hesitantly took the water bottle from his hand and mumbled a thank you for the water bottle and disinfecting your wound from your clumsy fall earlier while he returned to his empty seat on the swing set.

It had been a few moments since you both went back to silence and a few gulps from the water bottle Heeseung gave you for you to finally break the silence, “So why are you here?”

You turned your head around to face Heeseung who kept staring at the scenery of the park, “Needed some fresh air.”

“Mm, sometimes I need some too, but I go to the Han River. It’s more peaceful there,” you said, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Yeah, well, do I look like I can go there now?” Heeseung said, his voice sounding snarky and sharper than you expected.

You smiled sheepishly, understanding the given circumstances, “Right, sorry.”

Heeseung sighed, he could see your smile from the corner of his eyes. He looked down to his hands resting on his lap, “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… lash out on you like that.” He mumbled.

“I get it I guess… I guess we all have those days.” You said, turning back to view the comforting landscape in front of you. “I used to be worse. I once smacked my brother across the face because he breathed too loud.”

A snort surprisingly came out of Heeseung’s mouth. “Are you implying that smacking you might help?”

“Well not me! Violence does not help, but if it’s on my brother… then I’d disagree.” You giggled, remembering the memory of your brother sobbing to your mother with a red strike across his face.

A soft smile found its way on Heseung’s face and this was probably the first and few times you actually saw him smile. The problem was, you didn’t know why, but you liked it. A lot. And you wanted to keep doing whatever you could to keep that smile on his face.

Gosh! Get a grip, Y/n!

You both fell into a somewhat comfortable silence before you decided to change the subject again. “When I was a kid, I used to come to this park all the time,” you began speaking, your eyes wandering around the familiar surroundings of your memories spent here. “Seori and I would play hide and seek, and I’d always manage to trip over something and end up with a new bruise. My mom would make such a fuss about it.”

Heeseung intently listened. He found it comforting that he could just sit there and here you talk without finding it annoying. This surprised him, what was he doing? Wasn’t he supposed to hate you?

“Oh right there!” You pointed to one of the bushes, “I fell down on a bird’s nest there. I spent the entire ride home sobbing because I sat on some of the eggs and it.. broke.” You mumbled at the end, feeling embarrassed. “I couldn’t sleep that night so I went back the next day and made a birdhouse for that poor mama bird.” You said, a pout unconsciously showing up at your lips.

Even though you were currently going through your past memories and spilling your countless stories to Heeseung, all you could hear from him was silence. You started to wonder if you were talking too much, if maybe he wanted some peace and quiet. Just as you were about to apologise, your pager beeped loudly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You glanced at it and realised it was your brother. “Oh, shit. I need to get back,” you said, standing up and wincing at the pain in your knee. You picked up the plastic bag from the ground.

You looked back at Heeseung and awkwardly cleared your throat, wondering if you were on terms to bid each other Goodbye, but before you could form a sentence Heeseung beat you to it, “Open your eyes when you’re walking and don't fall again, dork.”

You playfully rolled your eyes realising he was back to his old Heeseung self and left the park, heading towards your home. As you limped back, you couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, you’d managed to make him feel a little better.

Heeseung watched you limp out of the park, a soft laugh escaping him at the sight of your awkward struggle. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you go. He felt a bit lighter, thanks to you, though he’d never admit that.

Waking up with a bruise was never a good way to start your morning. You took off the thick blanket that covered you. As you felt the dull ache on your knee, the unexpected meetup with Heeseung rushed back to your head when that was the reason why you tossed and turned at night, trying to get a wink of sleep.

The thought of the boy never left your mind, wondering where you stood with Heeseung, hoping that yesterday may make Heeseung warm up to you, but a part of you wanted Heeseung to keep you at arms distance for the fear of something you couldn’t quite grasp onto.

But you settled on keeping Heeseung as a part of your plan and maybe even a friend after you start dating Beomgyu. Right?

Oh right, Beomgyu…

The chestnut haired boy raced back to your mind, strengthening your feelings for him. Though, you still didn’t know why the thought settled weirdly in your stomach.

You brushed it off and started to get ready for school, you were determined that today would be the day that you get your pawn Heeseung to finally act according to your genius plan.

After a quick shower and trying to make yourself decent for school, you headed out the door, slightly limping but still excited and a hundred percent sure that he would agree if you buttered up enough to him.

As hours passed, the day was going pretty well while you zoomed through the classes with ease. And now, you found yourself standing in that familiar spot, outside the broadcasting room, a few minutes before the usual meeting would start since you knew that Heeseung was always the first one to be there.

What a loser!

A kinda cute one too maybe…

Wait! Fuck—

“Y/n?” A voice came from behind you, a familiar one.

“Hee–” You turned around to see the boy towering over you, the gap between you being very close.

You froze after seeing how close he was to you, “I-I was actually going to talk to you– you’re here?”

“Guess you beat me to it.” He said, taking his hand out of his pocket and turning the knob on the door resting next to you, his side view being very clear to you.

Shit.

He opened the door and you silently thanked yourself that you weren't leaning against it and quickly scooted to the side to give him some space to walk through the room. He took his seat at the very end of the room— his usual seat. You walked in slowly, closed the door behind you, and took a seat in the chair across from him.

“I was going to say–”

“Can I ask you something?” He spoke up.

His sudden question caught you off guard, “Ye–yeah go ahead.”

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his peculiar question, your head tilting to the side in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you trying to be friends with me?”

“Oh.” An odd silence formed between you two. “I just wanted to–”

“You never even looked at me before, so why join the broadcasting club, talk to me, try to get close to me? I just want to know why notice me now?”

You contemplated on saying that it had something to do with a boy named Beomgyu but you swallowed that response down your throat, knowing how’d his future response look like. Your sudden confidence at the beginning of your day faltered, making it shred into tiny little pieces. All you could do was open your mouth a bit and gulp nervously then look down at your hands resting on your lap.

Heeseung noticed your sudden nervous behaviour so all his thoughts came out into one statement, “You like him.”

Your eyes widened and looked straight at him.

So he knew.

Heeseung only scoffed, the pieces of your plan finally laying out perfectly to him, “And you're trying to get close to me so you can what? Talk to him?”

All you could do was look down and nod slightly. Was it that obvious?

Another scoff could be heard from Heeseung as he stood up from his chair, clearly not wanting to be near you.

You stood up, “Heeseung, wait!” He stopped in his tracks, yet his back was still facing you.

“I have liked Beomgyu before I could even process what the word like had really meant. And gosh, I tried everything in the book and heck everything I could do to even get close to him. Nothing worked! Please just— this is my last hope as silly as it sounds, but I’m really desperate here. Just help me out a bit, because I don't think I can sleep at night knowing I didn’t try. I swear i’ll even stop talking to you if he rejects me–”

“You talk a lot.” He finally turned around to face you, “But that little monologue of yours got you nowhere.”

You walked towards him, knowing this literally could be your one last shot at this plan. “Heeseung…”

But something struck you as if a bulb just lit up in your head.

Gotcha!

“You know, you’d really hate it if you found out what happened in 'Demon Diary' without reading it, right?” You said, sneakily coming up to him.

“Right..” He said hesitantly, not sure what trick you had up your sleeve.

“If you were to help me, then you’d have the pleasure of reading it without spoilers like Raenef being the next demon lo–” As you were about to finish, his hand came in contact with your mouth to shut you up.

Your eyes widened again and your heart rate fastened for nth time. He was so close to you, his hand feeling warm against your skin. Nothing was to be heard from the both of you until Heeseung realised how close you both were which made him gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

He slowly lowered his hand and took it off your mouth, “I want volume one.”

“Deal.”

One thing you've known about Heeseung was that he loved working with cameras. From school events to casual hangouts, he always had his camera hanging around his neck, clicking a picture of anything that piqued his interest.

So of course, he was assigned by the broadcasting club to take the pictures of students on this field trip to see the flowers at the Musimcheon Cherry Blossom Festival and sent the new girl—aka you—to assist him, which you happily obliged.

On the way to the field while you were in the bus, you took out your essentials to hopefully butter him up; banana milk. It always does the trick when you want something, and to your luck it was his favourite drink too!

“Woah! Is that for me?” Seori who was seated next to you pouted, trying to take the banana milk out of your hand, but you were quick to swat her hand away.

“No! It’s for Heeseung.” You mumbled with a pout.

“Oh! I get it now.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you in a teasing manner not knowing you wanted to rip them out.

“Stop! It’s not like that,” You said with furrowed eyebrows trying to defend yourself, “It’s so I can kiss ass and get close with Beomgyu!”

“No way L/n Y/n just said that.” She said with a breathy laugh.

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” You said, stretching your arms a bit with a smile on your face.

Seori rolled her eyes at your justification, “Oh by the way, you still with your boy toy?” You snickered while elbowing Seori.

“He’s not my boy toy! It’s just complicated.” She muttered, shyly.

“Hmm, isn’t that what you said for Jaeyun, Minhyun, Sojun and—”

“Oh my gosh stop! You’re making me look like a player!” She whined, hitting you on the side, “I’m actually serious about Sunghoon, I really like him.”

“Woah!” You turned to the side. “That I never heard, I’m impressed he managed to wrap you around his finger like that.” You said, nodding your head, impressed by how in love she looked but you’d never say it out loud since you knew she’d drag you to the pits of hell.

Seori never really liked relationships—heck! you’re surprised that she’s been your best friend for this long. She usually has casual and lowkey situationships as you like to call it, but seeing her with Sunghoon actually gave you hope that you might experience her having her first real boyfriend instead of her running away from her potential love interests.

“Yeah whatever.” She rolled her eyes at your comment. “At Least I’m not the girl that’s been crushing on a guy for three years and hasn't made a move yet!”

“Hey! I am making one! It’s just a really slow move.” You tried to defend yourself.

Hopefully that move does work if Heeseung actually abides by your plan. So when you arrived there, the first thing you did was to search for Heeseung. Luckily, it didn’t take that much time as you found him in the middle of the field setting up the essential equipment needed for capturing some moments on the trip. You headed towards him, calling out his name making his bambi eyes drift towards you.

As you were near him, you reached out to your school bag and took out the comic he had set his eyes on, “You need to return it on Monday.

He silently thanked you while he nodded while you were still rummaging in your bag, “Here.”

You handed out a tiny bottle of banana milk to him, “Jungwon said you liked it, so.”

Heeseung blinked in surprise before he pursed his lips. He took the milk into his hand and turned around to put the comic and the milk into his bag, hiding his smile at the cute gesture from you.

The boy cleared his throat and started adjusting the settings for the camera while you rested your hand against the stand, your chin leaning on top of it, pouting in search for Beomgyu.

Once your eyes finally set on him talking to his friends, your eyes became a lot more dreamy and your once faltered feelings bounced back, strong as ever.

“No girlfriend, right?” You muttered, still looking at Beomgyu.

“No.”

“Then what type of girls?”

“I don’t know, maybe Sim Eunha?” Heeseung answered, now recording bits of students socialising.

“Oh, so like someone innocent?” You said, taking out a notebook from your bag to record his likes, “That’s alright.”

“Favourite movie?”

“Armageddon.”

“Oh?” You smiled while writing it down, “Mine too.”

“Future major in college?”

“Theatre and film of journalism and broadcasting.”

“Oh,” You wrote down the words he said quickly, “So he wants to be famous because he’s handsome?” You mumbled.

“No,” Heeseung stated, “I just like working with cameras.”

Wait a minute.

You looked up from your small notebook and processed his words. Is he really talking about himself? Your head shot towards the taller boy next to you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?” You exclaimed, “This isn't about you! I’m asking about Beomgyu.” You said as you slightly hit his arm which made him wince a bit. “If I have to get close to him, I need to know what he likes…And besides, why would I ask what you like anyways.”

“Such a dork.” Heeseung scoffed as he looked at your sulky face, “Come here, Soobin sent us both on this trip. You should record as well!”

You rolled your eyes at the sight of Heeseung setting up his camera on the stand for more stability. You reluctantly but quickly put your pencil and your little notebook in the small pocket of your bag. His eyes averted to you as a signal to come closer which you obliged to.

“Put your eye here,” He pointed at the camera, guiding you to the camera’s viewfinder. “This is the zoom in button and here’s zoom out.” He showed you the necessary buttons needed, “Don't zoom in too much.” He nagged quietly.

Heeseung slowly guided your hand to the zoom in button and slid it down to the zoom out button. His way of teaching you around his camera felt gentle and soothing, like you could listen to him talk about his cameras all day. His gentle touch and the proximity between you two made your heart feel like it was in a marathon.

“Hit record.” He instructed and so you did.

You zoomed in on a few places with students chattering and at the scenery of the field and as well as the sky.

“Hm, you’re doing surprisingly well.” He said, quietly. Way to ruin the moment if there even was one.

You froze at how close you two were where you could hear his heartbeat. It felt so comforting for some reason. You could listen to his deep breaths next to you as he guided you to record some of the scenery. But this also set off many alarms in your head, screaming at you.

What are you doing!?

Your breathing felt unsteady and awfully loud to you, to the point where you thought Heeseung could hear you.

“Okay I got it.” You muttered, trying to dominate the space you two shared behind the camera, “You can go.” You said, nagging him to leave you alone.

He slowly backed away from you, taken aback from your words and let out a sigh which went unnoticed by you. You continued with recording the landscape which brought a sense of calmness to you. You zoomed into Seori and Sunghoon chatting away, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the cheery boy in front of him.

Cute, you thought.

You slowly panned your camera to the blue skies above the fields and now to the chestnut haired boy. Beomgyu’s smile melted your heart as he talked to some of his friends which seemed really funny with the way he laughed.

He was soon joined by the taller boy, Heeseung. You zoomed in on Beomgyu to get a close-up of him, momentarily forgetting about recording the scenery. Yet, strange enough your hands instinctively moved the camera over to capture the boy next to him. There was something about Heeseung that you couldn’t quite grasp onto. His doe-like eyes sparkled as he chatted with his friends.

With his hair that always seemed to fall so carelessly over his forehead and the way he would sneer slightly as if he was amused whenever someone spoke up, you could never seem to keep your eyes directed elsewhere and you didn’t really know why. He had this charm about him that was impossible for you to not look twice— the way his lips moved to the glint in his eyes.

After a brief pause, he looked right at the camera, catching your gaze. It startled you, and you fumbled with the camera— readjusting the camera and propping it back to the field quickly.

Way to make it so not obvious.

However what you didn’t catch was Heeseung looking at your clumsy self, trying to grab shots here and there. And what you didn't see was the smile that found its way to his face, because of you.

If you were Heeseung, where would you be right now? Currently, you were looking for wherever Heeseung would be. In the broadcasting room? Surprisingly, no. One of his classes? No. The cafeteria? No sight of the tall boy. Heck! Even the field where Beomgyu was practising? All you could find was the dashing boy moving through the field with ease and shooting a goal into the net.

The banana milk in your hand started to look real good after your countless laps making you thirsty, but no! You were saving that for Heeseung, if he even is alive today. Suddenly, like lightning struck your head, you realised that Heeseung was a huuuge nerd.

You jogged to where your school library would be, which was a few metres away from the football field. You entered the facility to see Heeseung in all his glory sitting at one of the tables reading the big book of the Photographers Guide.

Of Course he’d be here!

Nerd.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, looking like he absorbed every word and the sight made you smile unknowingly. Without thinking, you walked over and took a seat in front of him.

“Whatchu reading?” you asked, dragging your words a bit, leaning in.

Heeseung let out a small yell as he flinched at the sound of you speaking which made your smile grow even wider, “Jesus, woman! stop sneaking up on me like that.” You laughed, brushing it off with a small sorry.

“Why are you here anyways?” He questioned, “You don’t read.”

“Woah!” You raised your hands a bit at the somewhat correct accusation, “I do, sometimes.” You giggled. “I came to give you this.” You placed the banana milk you were holding on the table.

He raised his eyebrow at you, “In exchange for?”

“For nothing! Just a friendly gesture,” you said, but then a sly smile crept up your face. “Actually, I was thinking...maybe we could all hang out together? You, me, and Beomgyu.”

Well he knew it.

“Hell no,” He said, stuffing his nose back into the big book.

“Cmon!” You nagged, your hand reaching for his arm trying to convince him.

Heeseung looked you dead in the eye to say the word ‘no’ again to which you groaned at.

But then, you noticed a familiar book peeking out of Heeseung’s shoulder bag that was resting on the table. It was volume one of Demon Diary.

“Aha!” Without thinking, you snatched it up.

Heeseung shot up looking at you with widened eyes,”Hey! Give it back.” He protested.

“I agreed to give this to you if you were to help.” You said, dangling the book infront of him. “And you’re not, so i’ll give this if you—”

“Fine.” He snatched the book from your hand.

You flashed him a big grin, “Great! I’ll see you at three o'clock at the bus stop tomorrow.”

Heeseung nodded reluctantly as if he was being held at gunpoint! “Fine. But if this turns out to be a disaster, I’m blaming you.”

“That’s fine,” you said, grinning from ear to ear. “But it won't be.”

As you left the library, the reality of your plan started to sink in, filling you with a nervous excitement. To think that tomorrow would be the day that you would actually hang out with Beomgyu in the flesh just brought hundreds of butterflies into your stomach. But a part of you wondered if this was the right direction you were going. But as your plan finally starts to take shape, you think to yourself if this is what you really want? You look back at Heeseung being engrossed in his little book. You wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was looking forward to it too.

But, why do you care? You were here for Beomgyu, right? You are doing this for Beomgyu, you tell yourself. But even as you tried to convince yourself, the nagging thought that was right behind you kept pouring thoughts that maybe, just maybe, there was more to this than you first realised.

The next day arrived in a blink. You were already waiting at the bus stop, dusting off the invisible specs over your dress. Your first real dress that you begged Seori to let you borrow. The baby blue chequered dress draped right above your knees and was held with two straps that rested on your shoulders which were tied into the shape of a bow.

You looked over at your watch —2:55. You just hoped that Heeseung would show up after praying to the Gods that this plan would finally take off.

The time stretched on. It took a few minutes to make your stomach start grumbling due to the nervousness that ran through your body, but everything was put aside when you saw Heeseung walking towards you clad in his white tee paired with cargo pants, his hands shoved in his pockets and a stoic expression covering his face.

Next to him was a slightly shorter boy, but also the man of your dreams and the man that was actually in your dream last night as well. Imagining him so many times in front of you, this close felt overwhelming now that he was actually walking towards you. Not anyone else—you.

Heeseung and Beomgyu stopped in front of you and Beomgyu greeted you with a grin on his face, contrasting to the boy next to him, “Hi Y/n! It’s been a long time since we talked. Hope you won’t mind me tagging along.” He chuckled.

What? Tagging along?

What exactly did Heeseung tell him?

As Beomgyu walked further ahead of you two, you slowed down your pace to match Heeseung as you elbowed him and aggressively whispered, “What did you tell Beomgyu to get him to come?”

Heeseung glanced at you, with that still same stoic look on his face and shrugged. “He loves carnivals. I barely got to finish what I was saying before he was begging to tag along.”

“Must be fate that we both loooove carnivals so much.” You said, giggling at the thought of you and Beomgyu sharing the same love for roller coasters and cotton candy, missing the roll in Heeseung’s eyes.

The three of you finally got onto the bus, you going right after Beomgyu, excited for the trip to the carnival. As you neared one of the seats, the bus suddenly lurched forward, causing you to stumble and fall on your ass right in front of Beomgyu.

But lucky for you, Heeseung was right behind, you pressed against his chest. His hand quickly came into contact with your arm, his grip strong as ever. You looked over to see him just as shocked as you are, but the look in his eyes exuded a genuine concern. Before you could fully register what had just happened, he pushed you away from him while wearing that same stern look on his face.

“Thanks," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze as you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

Then he finally looked at you, “Sit.”

You quickly obeyed, sitting on one of the seats that was next to Beomgyu who quickly asked if you were okay after seeing you stumble. You replied saying you were fine and breathed out the breath that you didn't know you were holding in.

You looked at Beomgyu once again, who was blissfully unaware of the little moment you just had with Heeseung, if you could even call it that. You turned your head to look at Heeseung who was standing beside you, one hand gripping the rail above for support while his eyes were fixed onto the passing scenery outside the window.

You could feel the warmth of him radiating beside you and it strangely brought comfort to you. Even if he wasn’t touching you anymore, even if he was looking ahead of you, eyes stuck to the scenery outside one of the windows. It made you feel an unfamiliar emotion which you never experienced. And you wondered why it only happened whenever you saw Heeseung.

Beomgyu on the other hand was mindlessly babbling about the different types of rides he wanted to go and how he hadn’t been to an amusement park in years. You nodded along to his words, trying to focus on his mindless chatter about the terrifying but exciting roller coasters they have, but your mind kept running back to how Heeseung’s hand felt on your arm, how you were pressed against his chest and that look that he had in his eyes.

That stupid look.

It only happened whenever he locked eyes with you. You honestly wondered if he had sprinkled something over his eyes to make him look at you like that. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. With recurring encounters revolving around both of you, you started to lean into that look, almost wanting him to look over you with his bambi like doe eyes.

But, you were sure that would change today. You were going to stick with Beomgyu. The bus came to a stop at the amusement park, dropping you three off. The sight of the crowded park and the sound of excited chatter alone filled the air, clearing your previous thoughts.

You could practically hear Beomgyu’s excitement. You found yourself smiling along at him, heading towards the park as he pointed to the different rides and the various games they had. And on your other side was the walking grey cloud who had a bored look on his face the entire time. Well usually that wouldn’t bother you, but something was pulling you to walk around and try every game with him. Not the other.

Fuck, you couldn’t get distracted.

“We should go on the rollercoaster!” Beomgyu pointed with a big grin plastered on his face.

You nodded along although Heeseung wasn’t having the same reaction, “You guys go ahead, I’ll just walk around.”

“C'mon! It’d be fun! Don’t be such a pussy!” Beomgyu exclaimed, coming near him, his hand dragging Heeseung’s as a motion to join.

“Yeah.. you should come.” You said this time, with a genuine smile, looking forward to seeing how this scaredy cat—due to his previous shrieks from you creeping up on him—would handle roller coasters.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, he was screaming the entire time on the rollercoaster, barely making it out alive and cursing Beomgyu for wanting a second round. You couldn't help but laugh at his state while he was panting for air, his hands on his knees after getting off the “wretched” ride as he liked to call it.

You three would go onto ride the carousel and eat a month’s supply of cotton candy. You couldn’t resist dragging Heeseung onto the Disco Bang ride, laughing as he was tossed around in the spinning machine.

Your hands naturally found your way to Heeseung’s, dragging him to any of the games to your liking, him just obliging and tagging along. You made him play the claw machine game a dozen times for a hello kitty doll and he would, skillfully manoeuvring the handles to get the cute plushie. He didn’t know why, but he did it so he could see that the doll would perfectly fall into your arms.

Beomgyu was far gone into the fun of the carnival, drunk on adrenaline which made him ride the rollercoaster again, twice. And at the end of the day, he had to meet the consequences of his previous decision, making his feet stumble on itself and his head dizzy.

By the time you finished circling around the entire amusement park, the sun had already begun to set. The sky was painted in shades of orange fading into pink, the stars already visible.

And there was one more ride that you didn’t check out. The biggest part of the plan. You saved the ferris wheel for the last so you could hop on into one of the tiny cabins and sit next to Beomgyu as you both watched the fireworks begin.

A solid set plan right?

“Let’s check out the Ferris wheel,” you suggested, pointing to the towering structure dazzled with colourful lights.

“Uh..sure!” Beomgyu hesitantly said while rubbing his tummy, his face a bit pale.

You smiled and got into line side by side with Beomgyu and Heeseung knew that was his cue to let you two have your “moment” as you like to call it. Heeseung joined the cue later so he could go alone, his tall figure a few metres away from you. Beomgyu was too worried about his stomach grumbling to wonder why Heeseung didn’t join you both.

As you got to the cabin, Beomgyu laid his hand on your shoulder, “I think I’m gonna be sick…"

“Beomgyu, you good?” You asked, worry creeping into your voice as you glanced between him and Heeseung, who looked equally as concerned.

“Yeah, go ahead with Heeseung.” He said, quickly leaving the line to find the nearest bathroom so he could hurl his guts out.

Fuck.

No, no, no.

This wasn’t supposed to go this way.

The line attendant had already called out to you two, so you had to hurry inside the tiny cabin with Heeseung. You swallowed the little bump in your throat, bummed that you didn’t get to sit with Beomgyu.

You got Heeseung instead.

You plopped onto the seat, Heeseung sitting in front of you. Your eyes visibly looked sad, and Heeseung had that familiar feeling rushing all over again. The last he felt this was at the locker, the same look shadowed your eyes again.

But, he couldn’t say anything. He just had to sit there and look at your pretty face with a pout on your lips.

Finally, as the cabins were about to start spinning in circles, he broke the silence, “You okay?”

You scrunched up the ends of your dress, nodding as you looked at the way the fabric bundled up in your hands.

“Are you sure?” He asked, with a softer tone, “I’m sorry that Beomgyu couldn’t join you.”

“It's..fine.” You looked outside the window to embrace the calm scenery.

Heeseung just sighed and followed your gaze out the window, occasionally looking at you, that same look on your face.

“Do you think Beomgyu liked this?” You mindlessly asked, feeling disappointment was over you.

“Yeah, I think.” Heeseung quietly answered. “ He just got ahead of himself.”

“Today was supposed to be perfect, Beomgyu was supposed to actually like me today.” You confessed, your words tumbling over you as your disappointment grew. “I was supposed to watch the fireworks with him on the ferris wheel, but now he’s puking his guts out probably cursing me for planning this and I dragged you into this—-“

Hey, hey… you did good today.” Heeseung’s words rushed to comfort you, his heart aching as he heard your breathing quickening.

“He genuinely looked like he had fun with you and trust me I know how he looks when he has fun and this was one of the few times he actually smiled that much around anyone. If you ask me, I think he… likes you plenty.”

Heeseung didn’t know why, but he hated saying those last few words. The boy had to spend the entire day at the park looking at Beomgyu gleam over you with such sincerity in his eyes as you smiled with him, riding fucking automated horses that went around in a circle and to say that he likes you was the perfect cherry on top.

“Thank you, Seung.”

Seung.

That was the first time you ever called him by a nickname. It had always been "Heeseung," usually accompanied by some kind of teasing or nagging. So don’t blame his heart for skipping a beat when you sat there all pretty calling him a name which made his mind dizzy.

“The fireworks are starting.” You said, a soft smile rested on your face as you looked to the view outside your window which Heeseung shortly followed after.

And as if on cue, just as the ferris wheel stopped with you both on top, the first set of fireworks had exploded into the sky. It filled the dark night with colour while your eyes lingered over the lit patches of collie, mesmerised by its beauty.

“It’s so pretty.” You muttered, your voice filled with awe.

Heeseung didn’t respond right away. Why? He was too busy looking at you. It felt more worthwhile than watching a few fireworks light up the night sky. It was more worth it to see how your eyes lit up at the sight. How your eyes widened in shock of the scenery ahead of you.

You looked pretty.

“So pretty.” He muttered, almost in a whisper where only he and his gear could hear it.

Time seemed to stop. The only thing in motion was the continuous fireworks bursting and Heeseung didn’t want it to end. He realised then and there that he would burst up as many fireworks just to see that smile on your face. He realised that he’d do anything to see you happy.

That night, while he sat with you on top of the ferris wheel to watch the fireworks, Heeseung realised something deeper than he was ready to admit— yet something he couldn’t ignore, at least not anymore.

You don’t remember much about the end of yesterday. The fireworks felt like the only thing that was running in your mind. And Heeseung? You don’t seem to remember much about him in the ferris wheel—kept saying the fireworks were pretty or something?

Nevertheless, you were a hundred percent sure that your plan yesterday had worked. Although there may have been a few minor setbacks (Beomgyu hurling his guts out), you were pretty confident that Beomgyu might see you as his future girlfriend.

That’s why you sprang out of bed, determined to commence phase two of your plan.

Movie date with Choi Beomgyu.

Featuring the infamous Lee Heeseung sitting two rows away from you both.

Considering that today was the last day of school, you knew it was your final chance to get closer to Beomgyu. As you walked down the hallway together with Seori, you had your mandatory debriefing with her about the events that happened last night, reminiscing every sweet moment with Beomgyu.

“Oh my gosh!” Seori squealed, “You two are so cute together!”

You nodded your head, feeling proud about it. “ You finally talked to a real boy! I thought this day would never come!” Seori dramatically exclaimed, making your eyes roll as she clung onto your arms in excitement.

And as if on cue, Beomgyu came into view, stepping out of a classroom. To your surprise, he actually looked at you and waved.

He actually waved!

Trying to stay composed, you waved back with a soft smile, watching as he walked away. Seori in turn looked the most excited she’s ever been, squeezing your arm hard.

“He so wants you!” She said, playfully.

You bit your lip, trying to contain that flutter in your chest. “Hopefully.” You replied in a mutter, still slightly dazed.

But deep inside you, that flutter didn’t have that same kick to it. It almost felt unfamiliar. As if it was fading away, slowly slipping through your fingers.You weren’t sure why, but the thought of Beomgyu liking you didn’t bring as much joy as it did before.

What fueled you to continue was the pure determination that coursed through your veins. With that resolve, you left to go meet your matchmaker, Heeseung.

Which is how you found yourself in front of the broadcasting room again, later that day. You opened the door to see Heeseung there fiddling with some of the equipment.

“Hey Seung.” He turned around to see you heading towards him, his eyes softening a bit at the sight of you.

“Hey.” He quietly said, going back to adjusting some equipment.

“Why the long face?” You pouted, taking a seat next to him.

Well he would look like he was struck by lightning if you called him “seung” though that pretty mouth of yours, ever so softly. If only you knew how his heart was running miles when you said it so softly, making him melt at the sound of his name coming from your lips.

“Nothing.” He brushed it off.

“Hmm, you could tell me if something is bothering you.” You said, with sincerity. “Did I do something wrong?” You asked as you put your chin onto your hand, looking up at him with your doe eyes.

God, he was a goner.

“You’re fine, dork.” He finally smiled at you, ruffling your hair and going back to whatever he was working on.

You froze at the warmth in his gaze, but pushed the feeling aside. “Well in that case, do you wanna watch a movie with me?” You smiled, with hope in your eyes.

“You mean, me third-wheeling you and Beomgyu?” He rolled his eyes.

“Well, you are supposed to help me.” You huffed, making a point.

Heeseung glanced back at you once again seeing that pout on your face which made him sigh, “Fine, whatever.”

You squealed in excitement, hugging his arm as you were thrilled to hear his answer.

The day passed on quickly, and before you knew it, it was already seven o’clock and you were already waiting for Heeseung and Beomgyu outside the familiar bus stop again.

But this time, Heeseung came with the absence of Beomgyu. You wondered if he was coming later than expected or…if he wasn’t coming at all. The thought alone made you gulp.

“Where’s Beomgyu?” You looked behind Heeseung, desperate to see if he even was behind the tall figure.

“He did not take that rollercoaster ride well, long story short; he fell sick.” Heeseung dropped the devastating news.

You huffed in annoyance, “Is he okay? I saw him at school today.” You asked, voicing your sincerity.

“Yeah, he is. He took half a day.” Heeseung said, shoving his hands in his pocket, “Just needs rest.”

If it only wasn’t for Beomgyu’s weak immunity, you’d both be smooching in Hawaii! (or watching the movie, you could work with either.)

“Well, what are we going to do now! I already paid.” You pouted, crossing your arms in frustration.

Heeseung could only softly smile at your frustrated self. Just then, the bus arrived, and you looked at Heeseung, pursing your lips.

You grabbed his hand before heading inside the bus, “What are you doing?” Heeseung asked with startled eyes.

“I’m not wasting my money.” You muttered, as you sat on one of the seats in the bus while Heeseung scoffed at your response.

You and Heeseung ended up at your local cinema, watching the re-release of fucking Top Gun, a choice made because you thought Beomgyu would like it. On the other hand, Heeseung was having the time of his life, completely immersed in the world of guns and whatnot.

Pfft. Typical Nerd.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t think he was cute whenever he slightly flinched at the explosions on the screen. Not that cute though. Maybe… kinda… you weren’t sure!

You were just frustrated about not being seated next to Beomgyu. Instead it was just Heeseung sitting next to you. But a part of you didn’t mind, in fact it brought a small smile to your face.

You shuffled in your seat trying to shake off the uneasy feeling you got in your stomach whenever you thought about Heeseung.

Well you never felt like this in your whole seventeen years of living, and you sure didn’t feel like this with Beomgyu. It felt almost comforting with Heeseung. You both didn’t have to fill the silence every time, you could just feel at ease with each other’s presence. With Beomgyu, there were always butterflies roaming through your stomach, but with Heeseung you felt like you didn’t have to try to impress yourself, just you being there felt enough.

And a part of you didn’t care that you were sitting next to Heeseung watching this God awful movie, occasionally grazing hands whenever both of you reached into the popcorn bucket. But thank God that the movie ended because you couldn’t take another second of guns and explosions.

You both made your way out of the theatre in silence, though you couldn’t stop thinking about comparing your all time love with Heeseung. You were so immersed that you didn’t even notice the uneven sidewalk to the nearing bus station until it was too late. Well you did stumble, but before you could hit the ground, Heeseung caught you just in time again.

God, you’ve got to stop falling!

“When will you open your eyes?” Heeseung remarked with sarcasm and he let go.

You didn’t register the stupid remark Heeseung had said, as the pain in your ankle started becoming impossible to ignore. You looked down to realise that you probably strained your ankle.

“Ouch.” You winched at the pain, as you rubbed your leg.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung crouched down to get a better look.

“I don’t know, I think I strained it.” Heeseung only sighed at your answer.

He shaked his head slightly, facing away from you as he was crouching so you could climb onto his back, “Come on, get on.”

“What? Heeseung, I can walk.” You said, though you definitely could not. But you weren’t getting on his back after your little thought session at the movies.

But your protests were a waste because before you knew it, you were on his back, holding onto his shoulders as he carried you.

“You’re lighter than I thought.” Heeseung teased, keeping his tone light.

You hit his back lightly as you retorted, “I’m not that light.” Though a small reluctantly found its way to your face.

Heeseung walked towards the bus station, while you rested your head on his shoulder, kicking your legs in a trace of rhythm while occasionally talking with Heeseung, though most of it was Heeseung humming along to whatever mindless thoughts you voiced.

It almost felt like you knew him for most of your life. It felt so soothing with him, his little teases making you whine. His way of looking at you like you were the most fragile thing on earth. His way of making you smile whenever you felt sad.

It felt like he was the one.

But he isn’t.

Beomgyu is.

That’s what you kept telling yourself as Heeseung slowly crept up your heart. What you didn’t know was that Heeseung felt the same. Almost like two idiots in denial. Typical.

Once you got onto the train, you sat side by side in silence, the gentle ride on the bus with occasional bumps lulled you into a peaceful state. You pulled out your headphones and handed one to Heeseung, “Here.”

The soft melody of “스물다섯, 스물하나 “ by JAURIM flowed into your eyes, making this moment feel like a scene from a movie. Without realising, you leaned your head on his shoulder, the day’s events catching up to you. And before you knew it, you drifted off into a long sleep.

Heeseung glanced down at you, a small smile played on his lips as he watched. He couldn't help but think how adorable you looked even if you were doing almost as nothing as sleeping against him. The wind from the open window made a few strands of hair fall onto your face, he gently grazed your face, tucking them behind your ear.

And the moment you shifted closer to him in your sleep, he knew he was done for.

Time passed quickly. It was already December. As the end of the school year approached, with graduation just around the corner, the broadcasting club decided to put in their two cents in the yearbook signing party. And Soobin thought a photo booth would be the perfect inclusion for it, so students could take a picture with their friends one last time.

And naturally, you and Heeseung were assigned to watch over the photobooth while the other members were assigned to different parts of the party such as the memory lane. You were manning the table with Heeseung while Seori and Sunghoon came over to your stand.

“Seori! You came!” You squealed at the sight of your best friend hand in hand with Sunghoon. “Hi Sunghoon.”

He waved at you with a smile, “We wanted to get a few pictures before it gets too crowded. Plus I had to drag him here.” Seori said, giving you the needed money.

“Yeah, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He teased Seori, gently ruffling her hair as she whined.

Seori slightly nudged Sunghoon before fixing her hair for the pictures. You and Heeseung could only chuckle at their playful banter.

“Right away, lovebirds.” You snickered with Heeseung at the sight of the two while Seori glared at you, mouthing ‘says you’ while eyeing Heeseung as well.

Uncalled for…

Seori pulled in Sunghoon in the booth, Sunghoon taking the initiative to pull her onto his lap as she giggled. They shared cute and goofy pictures with Seori giving Sunghoon a kiss on the cheek at the end.

“They’re cute.” You mumbled to Heeseung.

“I guess.” Heeseung smiled with you, glancing at you occasionally.

After Seori and Sunghoon left, time went faster as the crowd started to fill up the Gym. The line for the photo booth became longer. Seori decided to join your table for a while to cure her boredom while Sunghoon played with his friends in the court. Just in time, Beomgyu showed up, revealing who was next in line.

And before you knew it, you were squished in the photo booth with Beomgyu on one end and Heeseung at the other, Seori taking up the remaining space at the far end. “Move over!” Beomgyu giggled while pushing you more against Heeseung. Instinctively, Heeseung wrapped his arm around you, his hand brushing against your waist as he pulled you in.

A mix of nervousness and excitement rushed over you, as the same familiar warmth settled in your stomach. It wasn’t because of the tight space but because of how close Heeseung was to you. The warmth of his hand against your waist sent shivers down your spine.

The camera's flash went off a few times, capturing the moments with you four. Beomgyu had put on whatever goofy face he could come up with and Seori had her signature peace sign up while a small smile rested on Heeseung’s face.

As the evening wore on, the crowd started to disappear. Students gathered their belongings, bidding each other goodbye. A strange sense of nostalgia washed over you, feeling emotional that this could be the last time you’d be talking with these students. Karina, Jungwon, and Rei had bid you goodbye as they left after taking down the memory lane they had set up.

Taehyun and Lia had come in later as they were busy with student body council stuff, but wished you and Heeseung both a quick goodbye before they left as well. And before you knew it, it was only you and Heeseung with a few other students roaming around the Gym. You glanced at Heeseung who was organising the leftover photostrips, carefully putting them into one of the brown boxes beside him.

A small smile played on your lips, “You wanna take some pictures? Just us two.”

Heeseung looked up at you with his bambi eyes, a smile on his face. “Sure.” He agreed.

The two of you slipped inside the photo booth, and all of a sudden the air felt different. The atmosphere hung something heavy, waiting to be acknowledged. You sat fairly close together, trying to settle in.

Heeseung started the timer and sat back down with a smile. You barely had time to think before the first flash went off catching you off guard. This made you laugh, along with Heeseung. The other flashes were followed by playful poses, you placing a peace sign behind Heeseung’s head and Heeseung pinching your cheeks.

Before the last flash went off, you felt a shift in the atmosphere. That feeling started becoming impossible to ignore. Heeseung turned to look at you just as you turned towards you. Your eyes met. Suddenly everything around you was a blur. It was just Heeseung in focus. The boy who months ago got on your nerves. The silent chatter outside became white noise for you.

Heeseung’s gaze softened, your eyes never left him. The final flash went off going unnoticed. Before you even processed what was going on, he leaned in. HIs lips gently brushing against yours, your eyes instinctively closing.

It felt soft, careful, yet why did your heart feel like it was going to leap out of your chest. His hands grazed your cheek pulling you closer as you reciprocated the kiss, earning him to pull even closer. It felt so raw yet so gentle. The kiss lasted a few seconds, yet it felt like an eternity. You were so far gone. You don’t seem to remember anything.

When you finally pulled away, you both looked at each other, out of breath as you were stunned in silence.

Just then, you heard someone’s voice from outside. “Heeseung?” It was Soobin, his voice laced in urgency.

Heeseung blinked out of his daze, pulling himself outside the photobooth after opening the curtain that divided the photobooth from the outside. “I–I’m here!” He called out, his voice shaken up.

“Can you help me carry these boxes to the storage room? Miss Lee wants them gone by now.” He huffed, handing one of the boxes to Heeseung.

Heeseung glanced back at you, sitting in the photo booth still shaken up by that stunt Heeseung pulled. He only gulped and looked back at Soobin. “Yeah sure.” Though he didn’t have another choice as Soobin already shoved the box in his face.

“Thanks dude.” Soobin smiled and headed out the Gym with Heeseung. Heeseung looked back at you one last time before exiting the Gym, the kiss replaying in his head over and over again.

You sat there for a moment, still not being able to process what just happened. Your heart was pounding like crazy, almost trying to jump out of your chest. The vibrations of your heart beat reached your chest, followed by your uneven breathing. Yet despite all of this chaos, you could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours.

You still feel the presence of him next to you. Slowly, a small smile crept onto your kiss. After you collected yourself, you finally stepped out of the photobooth. Your heart was still racing as you pulled at the photo strip hanging from the slot. As you looked at the photostrip, the last shot catched your attention, making you snicker to yourself.

You probably look like a crazy woman right now.

The one before the last shot caught your attention–the one right before the kiss. There was something with the way he looked at you, something you had noticed before, but didn’t care for. And now that you realised what it meant, you couldn’t look away.

And it was then, standing outside the photobooth alone got you to realise just how much you liked this moment. You liked that kiss. You liked Heeseung. The thought alone hit you like a ton of bricks. All this time, you’d been so focused on Beomgyu yet It was Heeseung all along, standing right infront you yet you were so blind.

The once crush on Beomgyu that had felt so secure was torn by in seconds through that kiss. All that you knew was crushed by the boy you thought was stuck up and a geek.

Heeseung didn’t know what to do. He was in a state of confusion. Why did he kiss you? He knows you like Beomgyu. And why did you kiss him back? You like Beomgyu. Heeseung thought of himself as so fucking stupid. Why did he leave you like that? He wanted to hug you so badly and pour everything that he was holding in. He didn’t know what to do with these overwhelming amount of emotions. And all of these emotions were ones he felt for you. Not anyone else.

The days that followed the kiss were a blur, he’d been stuck in his bed, ignoring every call that Beomgyu made or any other friend of his. All he could do was sigh and rethink that day at the photobooth.

He couldn’t face Beomgyu right now knowing it was your heart that belonged to him and he sure couldn’t look at you, after knowing you liked someone else. The realisation pierced him, leaving a nasty sting.

On the other hand, you cursed the timing for making you and Heeseung kiss right at the end of the school year. You sulked, knowing you couldn’t see Heeseung after this, having to wait a month to see him in person. So you could only take the landline and call him.

What was strange is that he didn’t pick.

Again and again.

Was he…ignoring you?

As more days passed, his absence left a hole in you. It hurt like a bitch. Seori visited occasionally only to meet your dull self. You were grateful you had your best friend by your side who comforted you everytime you slipped out a sob. Your heart winced at each time the call would go to voicemail. You knew you couldn’t take it anymore so you called your last hope.

Choi Beomgyu.

“Hey, can we talk? In person.” You said, keeping it short.

Moments later, you met him at the local park, the sight bringing memories of where you and Heeseung talked. Fuck.

“Hey, what’s up?” Beomgyu asked, taking a seat on the bench which you followed shortly after.

“Has…Heeseung been ignoring you?” You asked, your voice filled with hesitation.

Beomgyu let out a long sigh and leaned back, looking up at the night sky. “I don’t know why, he’s never been like this.”

So he has.

“I even went to his house, but his mom just said he’s going through some kind of phase. I don’t get it dude. It’s all so confusing,” Beomgyu mindlessly ranted, “Did he ignore you too? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“He did.” You answered, “And I think it’s all my fault.”

Beomgyu furrowed his eyebrows, looking at you now. “What happened?”

Taking a deep breath, you began, “Beomgyu, I like you. Or at least I liked you. “ You mentally winced at the sight of his eyes widening. “But now, I think I like Heeseung. Like a lot. And… we kissed in the photo booth that day, but after that, he just ran off.”

“Like the coward he is.” Beomgyu scoffed, clearly annoyed at his best friend’s loser-ish behaviour.

“And now, he probably still thinks I have feelings for you. I wanna tell him that I like him, he just won’t pick up.” You sulked, trying not to let the tears that formed in your eye fall.

“Hey, hey.” Beomgyu rubbed his hand against your back to comfort you,”He probably feels guilty about this, that’s probably why he’s shutting everyone out. I’m really sorry this happened, but…I think all we could do for now is to wait for him until he’s ready. He’s probably overwhelmed by everything.” He sighed.

“I know Beomgyu, I just want to talk to him so bad. I want to clear everything up. I just want to see him.” You said, your voice shaky.

“Hey, if it’s hurting you this much… I’ll try and talk to him. I’ll try to get through to him.” Beomgyu said, his voice gentle

You sniffed, wiping a stray tear. “Thank you.”

“If it makes you stop crying.” He said with a smile.

You went back home with a comforted heart which was still hurting a bit. If you could only see Heeseung, everything would be cured. You’d give him the biggest hug and tell him everything you’ve been holding on to.

As you looked at the landline hanging on the wall, you leaned against the cold wall of your hallway. You picked the phone, dialling the familiar number once again.

Ring.

Each ring felt like an eternity. You gripped the phone even tighter, desperate that he’d pick up. A lump appeared in your throat as the tears that were once gone came back and rested against your eyes, threatening to fall out.

“Please pick up…Please.” You voiced out in a whisper.

It went to voicemail.

You let out the breath you’d been holding. You let go of the telephone you had been holding. The ears that had been stinging your eyes finally fell out as you let out a sob. You just hoped he didn’t hate you and you hoped that he’d pick up your calls tomorrow.

It had been days since Heeseung and you talked. Ever since that kiss, he hasn’t talked to you or Beomgyu. But what could he do? He didn’t seem to know. Christmas Eve had arrived, a time usually filled with warmth, joy, yet he just couldn’t shake that dreaded feeling off him.

The slowly softly landed on the concrete outside the house, the night displaying the bright stars. He trudged out the house carrying a garbage bag to dispose of it.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu stood outside his house, padded up in his winter coat, his breath made visible in the air. He watched Heeseung’s dull self make a boring chore even more boring. He had been waiting a while for Heeseung to come out the house, and to his luck, Heeseung’s timing couldn’t be more perfect.

Though Heeseung didn’t see him at first since his mind was scattered somewhere else, Beomgyu knew just what to do. He crouched down to grab a handful of snow and made a makeshift snowball or war weapon as Beomgyu would like to call it.

Before Heeseung could even turn back, a snowball suddenly smacked him in his back. Startled, Heeseung turned around quickly as his eyes landed on the mischievous boy.

He groaned, “Seriously?” He brushed the snow off his jacket, sighing at the annoying act.

Beomgyu only smiled, crouching down once again to throw another. This time, it went straight to his arm and Heeseung could only sigh at his childish acts.

“What do you want?” Heeseung asked, feeling annoyed.

“Came to talk.” Beomgyu said, stepping closer. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

Heeseung raised his eyes at the insult, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do.” Beomgyu gazed at the boy, “You like Y/n.”

His heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name, “I mean I get it, She’s pretty.”

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed straight at him, a shot of jealousy hit him, “Dude.”

Beomgyu smiled at his reaction, “So you do like her.” He laughed.

“That doesn’t matter anymore. I fucked up.” He sighed.

The older boy shook his head, “You don’t know her. I mean have you talked to her?”

“I just don’t want to.” Heeseung said, a shaky voice emitted through his throat. “I’m…scared of what she’s going to say.”

Beomgyu sighed at his friend’s foolishness but he didn’t want to be the one to break the news of you liking him back, “You never know until you try. You should talk to her.”

Beomgyu's words had left Heeseung cluttered with thoughts. He should really talk to you. Yet he still was running away from the idea of having to do anything with you. For all he could know, he might’ve really fucked up your friendship and he jus did not want to face that.

Heeseung started at the ground, his voice soft as a whisper, “I’m sorry I ignored you. It was stupid of me to do that.”

Beomgyu put his hand around him as a warm, understanding gesture. “You are. But you’re my best friend. You can talk to me, you know?”

The taller boy only nodded at his words, “You know, Jay is having a christmas party now.” He said after a moment. “You should come.”

Heeseung glanced at the boy, hesitation ran through his face but he could only nod before Boemgyu grinned at him, taking him away from his house as he headed towards Jay’s.

The cold didn’t seem to be biting anymore for Heeseung. He finally felt the relief and the comfort of christmas. The warmth of the christmas lights finally rushed towards him as he finally put on a smile to be reconciled with his best friend.

Now all he had to do was talk to you.

The warm air buzzed with sweaty teenagers and booze in every corner. There were a few garlands thrown around here and there, but that was just for the name of calling this a christmas party, though Jay just wanted to talk to girls. You were squished against some sophomores with Seori, trying to get past the drunk teenagers and head to the kitchen for some water.

“Hey, did you see Sunghoon?” Seori asked, looking around.

“No, you should probably ask Jay. I see him at the entrance.” You suggested, while taking two water bottles out the fridge. “Here.” You passed on to your best friend.

“Okay, don’t get lost or get into trouble! No drugs!” She shouted as she dived back into the pile of drunk teenagers.

After a while, you went back into the living room, already regretting coming back into the crowd. Suddenly, a voice rang through your ears making you turn your head.

“Hi Y/n! Didn’t know you came!” Beomgyu exclaimed, hugging you with one hand while his other was occupied with a beer.

“Yeah, Seori kinda forced me to come.” You said, with a hearty laugh. “Is he… here?” You asked, with hope.

Beomgyu smiled as he grinned, “He’s at the back. You should talk to him.” He nudged you.

You smiled, thanking him as you left to see Heeseung. The thought of seeing him brought that warm feeling back in you. Something you missed feeling. At that moment, you realised how much of a void he left in you when he went M.I.A.

He was standing there, looking slightly out of place. His bambi eyes still managed to shine through the dark setting. You took in a deep breath and went up to him.

“Heeseung. Hi.”

Heeseung’s heartbeat quickened. He gulped looking over you. “Hey, Y/n.”

“How are you?” You said, trying to engage in small talk knowing you wanted more than to hug him and clear everything up.

“I’m well. Finally got out of the house.” He slowly spoke, taking a sip out of his red cup. “How bout you?”

“I’m okay…” To be honest, you weren’t. You had spent so much time thinking about Heeseung and your feelings and how that whole moment at the photobooth felt. Just the thought of him and your countless failed attempts at calling him never left your mind.

“You never picked up.” You curtly said. “I was…waiting for you.”

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I never meant to ignore you.” He said, coming closer to you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I’d never.” You smiled sincerely, looking up at him.

He smiled at that. “Merry Christmas Y/n.” The boy said softly, a small smile played on his lips.

You giggled as you came closer. “Merry Christmas Seung.”

The tension between you both wore away. It felt normal again. It felt like the same old you and the same old Heeseung. And you liked how it was right now.

But just as you were about to say something more, Jake spoke up. “Yo, you guys are standing under the mistletoe.” He yelled as he pointed at the sprig of mistletoe above you both.

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” The chants echoed throughout the room, and all you could look at was how flushed Heeseung looked. You needed to let him know that you liked him now. You weren’t able to let out the words before so you took a step closer to him.

You could see how red his ears were to which you smiled at. Cute. As you looked at him for consent through your doe eyes, he took the cue to hook his hands around your waist, filling the gap between you two. You instinctively put your arms around his necks, bringing his face closer to you.

Just as Heeseung leaned in closer, with his breath feeling warm against your skin. Jay suddenly barged through the crowd, his voice loud enough to cut through the speaker’s music. You just caught him and just like that he slipped through your fingers.

“Shit, Y/n!”

You turned around startled, unconsciously pushing Heeseung away. “What’s wrong?”

“Seori’s crying.” Jay said, in a quieter voice.

Your heart immediately sank, the moment you both had immediately fading away.

“Fuck, is she okay?” You asked, voicing your concern.

“Man, is this kiss gonna happen?” Jake said, tired of waiting.

“Shut the fuck up, man!” You yelled before following Jay with Heeseung.

Echoes of boos could be heard through the room, but you didn’t care about that. The only thing in your mind was Seori. You just hoped nothing intense happened.

You were left to see a distressed Seori, bawling while Beomgyu patted her back. “Seori, what’s wrong?” You asked, in a gentle manner, wiping the tears off her face.

“Sunghoon—kissed Junhee!” Seori hiccuped.

You immediately hugged her, her sniffles now becoming muffled. “I thought—we had something!”

The tears soaked through your shirt as you as she let out uncontrollable sobs. You have never seen her like this in all of your seventeen years of living. It honestly broke your heart to see her in this state and realising how much that douchebag meant to her after countlessly brushing off the times you’ve teased her about being wrapped around his finger.

It fucking sucked to see your best friend being torn into bits all because she liked a boy. You were too much into comforting Soeri that you completely forgot about your surroundings—even Heeseung.

“Let’s go home, okay?” You spoke in a gentle manner, squeezing her tight as you spoke to which she only nodded.

You headed out the door, thanking Beomgyu and Jay. Heeseung mindlessly followed you two, a soft look on his face.

As you led Seori out the party and onto the porch, her sobs got quieter as she hiccuped occasionally. The air fresh from December hit your face, the windy atmosphere almost feeling harsher towards you.

You finally let her out of your grip to let her collect herself and cool off a bit. You friend to Heeseung who was already looking at you with the light from the street lamps shining through his eyes.

“I’m..sorry we didn’t get to talk.” You mumbled, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“Don’t apologise. You did the right thing.” He reassured you with a soft smile, rubbing your arm as a gesture of comfort which made you smile back.

“We can always talk later, dork.”

You missed him calling you that. You missed everything he did.

“Merry Christmas, Seung.” You said, tiptoeing to kiss him on the cheek.

His eyes sprightly widened at that. He honestly couldn’t believe his eyes. A pretty girl just kissed him—correction; the prettiest girl in the world just kissed him. He felt like he won the lottery and the price was you.

“Merry Christmas Y/n. Get home safe.” He said, as you walked away from him, hand in hand with Seori who was deep in her thoughts.

You waved towards him, your attention on him now converting to Seori who was beside you as you both headed to her house.

Heeseung touched the sticky mark that your lipgloss left on his cheek. The warmth of your small kiss still lingered on his cheek. As you disappeared from his sight, he knew he had to pour his heart and soul to the girl who had stolen his heart.

You always thought of spending a new year’s eve party at someone’s house, drinking booze and dancing with people left and right. But you realised, this year felt different. You leaned against the cold window of your bedroom, it was slightly drizzling outside. The sound of your tv turned on for the new year’s parade complimented the white noise you could hear from outside your room.

It felt almost lonely, you turned around looking at the scenery of the night, the stars resting against the night sky. You had already beeped Seori through your pager but she has yet to call you, leaving you wondering what she was up to now.

Suddenly, a small thud against the window jolted you from your thoughts. Startled, you turned around to see the commotion outside. As you peered out the window, you saw four familiar figures standing outside your house, one of them wiggling a bag of soju bottles and snacks.

Ofcourse, they’d show up unannounced.

You rolled your eyes at the sight of Seori, Beomgyu and Heeseung showing up in front of your door, to your surprise. You quickly went downstairs to let them inside and showed them to your bedroom.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, as you sat down on the cold floor where you were once seated.

“Saving your ass from a boring new year, duh!” Seori said, placing the bottles on the floor as she took a seat next to you.

“You guys really didn’t have to do this.” You said, though your eyes went up to Heeseung, like he was the only person who was in the room. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of that glow that he gave.

“Ey, it was more an excuse just to get black out drunk.” Beomgyu nudged your rib cage after sitting down next to you as Heeseung sat in front of you, not a ward out of his mouth.

As the night progressed, you four got comfortable and you later found out how much of a good pair Seori mixed with Beomgyu was. Though, you didn’t expect them to actually stick to their words and get wasted. Laughter echoed from them every five minutes and long before you knew it, Seori started blabbering mindless words while Beomgyu giggled at the smallest thing.

“Beomgyu, what do you know about love?” Seori said, as she spread her legs, lying on the floor.

“Love?” Beomgyu giggled, “That’s funny.”

“Hey, have you ever been in love?” Seori mumbled to him.

“With soju, yeah.” He joked, earning a light hit from Seori.

“You kids still have to experience the heartbreak to know what love is.” Seori scoffed, her hands on her stomach as she looked at the ceiling. It was clear she was referencing what happened to her a few days ago.

Heeseung had now gotten closer, sitting right next to you. You both hadn’t talked about what happened that night, leaving unspoken words in the air. Though you both had eased in the awkwardness and got to talking a lot, not minding the two drunkards.

“She’s so funny when she’s drunk.” You laughed at her state.

“Beomgyu’s worse.” Heeseung added in.

“They make a good match.” You said, sighing at their foolishness. Heeseung smiling along with you.

A few hours, closer to midnight. Seori and Beomgyu were passed out, only leaving you two up to witness going into the new millennium.

“It’s almost midnight.” You pointed out, as crowds started to appear at the sighting for the fireworks, you intently watched it through the small tv you had in your room.

“Yeah,” Heeseung replied, his voice low and soft.

“Hey listen, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day.” He said, making you go back to the night of Christmas Eve, the thought leaving a fresh mark in your mind.

You turned to look at Heeseung who was already staring at you with his bambi eyes.

“I think this is long overdue,” He sighed. “But I just wanted to tell you that I like you, a lot. More than just a friend. You’re really pretty and you’re such a dork, it makes me go crazy.” He slightly chuckled, making you smile at his silly speech.

“I mean every single word I say. I don’t think I can start the new year by not telling you how you make me go crazy.” He softly said.

You had no words.

You realised you couldn't make up a small speech like his. It felt like too much to say. You had been pushing away your feelings for him, because you were too into Beomgyu’s handsome face. But after him opening your eyes wide, you realised the pretty boy sitting next to you was all you could ask for your new year’s wish. You looked at him through your eyelashes, your mouth slightly agape.

You just wanted to kiss him.

So why not?

You leaned in, ever so slightly. You kissed him. The world outside seemed to slowly fade away. The countdown on the tv and the gentle snores from Seori and Beomgyu served as background noise. You could practically hear your heartbeat along with Heeseung’s. You could feel the slight taste of soju as his warm lips pressed against yours, his hand slowly reached its way to the back of your neck to pull you in closer. It felt like his lips against yours was the only thing that mattered.

3! 2! 1!

The fireworks started.

The kiss started in 1999 and ended in 2000, the clock struck twelve as the new year came in. You pulled away, exhaling that breath you didn't know you held in. You couldn’t help but giggle softly, as he finally cracked a smile.

“I like you too, alot.” You looked at him, he rested his forehead against yours. “Guess I fell for the wrong best friend.”

“I guess I fell for a dork.” He joked, earning a slight tap on his chest by your hand. “At least, that dork is mine, I hope.”

“I’d love to be yours, Hee.”

Heeseung smiled at that, pecking you quickly. “Happy new year, dork.”

“Happy new year, Seung.” You replied, emotions filling you full.

He found his way to your lips again, kissing you with a tighter grip, and in that moment, you finally caught him—you weren’t letting the boy go anywhere. The boy who intimidated you at first, who called you a dork and now his, who cleaned your wounds and gave you piggyback rides. The boy who was your first love, now leaving him to adore you.

❨ READ MORE ❩ ៸៸ loading tapes . . .

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sungjinhos · 10 months ago

Text

I THINK WE MARRIED IN VEGAS

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

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

✷ word count: 28.244

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

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

✷ Smut warnings under the read more ✷

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A house.” He says earnestly.

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

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

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

“No.” You deadpan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I have two bedrooms?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are joking.

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

You would never, never, marry that man.

Right?

Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You turn your hand and it finally hits you.

It is a ring.

With a big rock.

In your ring finger.

A big damn rock on your ring finger.

“Yoon Jeonghan” you scream in horror.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You need to return it, no doubt about it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened to us?” You question.

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

“Can we call Joshua?”

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

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

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

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

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

“And what is your option Jeonghan?”

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

What a fucking great idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The what?” Seungcheol blurted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seungcheol that’s actually-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn,” Seokmin breathed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The whole Seungcheol marriage thing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you serious?”

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

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

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

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

“I know,” he says already sounding exhausted.

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

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

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

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

The whole afternoon you think about Jeonghan.

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

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

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

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

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

“The fuck?” Jeonghan groans.

“What?”

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

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

“No, no-"

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

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

“About what?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The fuck," Jeonghan bites back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You send a message.

You try to call.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You say finally get out of the apartment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Jeonghan says almost choking on nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What plan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No?” He jokes back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ultimately, that actually happens.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was no way around it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“Of course not,” you say exasperated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What would that mean?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even that sounded weird rolling off your tongue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jeonghan-"

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

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

"And that took you how many years Jeonghan?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” he says almost whimpering.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi dear," even her voice is gentle.

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

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

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

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

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

[BONUS SCENE ONE - THE WEDDING}

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

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

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

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

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

[BONUS SCENE TWO - BIOGRAPHY]

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Grandchildren?”He asks you softly.

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

“Like what?” He asks amused

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

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

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

“We are not divorcing," Jeonghan says.

“We can annul It,” you try again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still think two is a bigger number”

[BONUS SCENE - SHOULD WE?]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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stargirl-russo · 3 days ago

Text

Sailor Song (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Joining Arsenal WFC was supposed to be the best thing for your footballing career, you were the best female footballer in the world after all. You didn't expect the unexpected longing of a certain blonde that came with it. (Hi! I've never written fan fics before but I was inspired by some I read and thought why not?! i hope you like it, i honestly might delete later or return it to drafts if I can? or even a pt 2??? idk lmk if you want more! enjoy. do I need to add warnings>....suggestive? angst? )

Recalling the exact moment when it happened was difficult to comprehend, maybe because you tried to completely erase the moment from your memory. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little disgraced with yourself. Why did you have to like another girl, a straight girl, who definitely didn't feel the same?!

Joining Arsenal this season was exactly what both parties wanted - you needed a change in scenery, and they wanted - no needed - a more clinical finisher like yourself. Everyone at the team was especially welcoming, considering your intimidating resume of accolades at such a young age - taking the women's football world by storm. You got on with everyone on the team, especially the Aussies, Kyra, Steph and Caitlin - being Australian yourself. But one particular teammate stood out to you the most, for more reasons than one.

You'd never forget the first day you finally saw and met the Alessia Russo in person, after admiring her from afar for about a year. She was absolutely beautiful, incredibly captivating and alluring. Words couldn't explain how you felt when you saw her at training, or heard her laugh or when she would smile - which was always. The way your heart hammered against your chest, it felt like you couldn't breathe, the butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. These feelings, they just felt...right. She made you feel so giddy and happy.

Although the thrill of this girl crush was very exciting, a part of you couldn't help but feel extremely ashamed. You were not supposed to like a teammate, let alone girls. You couldn't help but admire her gorgeous blue eyes, her long lashes, her soft voice, and her long blonde hair as you smiled shyly and shook her perfectly manicured hand, introducing yourself. Her southern british accent made you weak in the knees. "I can't wait to share the pitch with you this season."

You were absolutely certain that no one knew about this infatuation, crush or admiration, or how down bad you were - whatever you wanted to call it - with Alessia Russo. It was just so easy to get along with her, your calm natured and laid-back personalities working well together. Both sharing certain things in common, attending the same college in the US for football at different years, your love for fashion, travelling, and similar music tastes. She was just so sweet, genuine, caring, and just a ray of sunshine - you couldn't get enough. The chemistry you both had was clearly evident on the pitch also, as your styles of play complemented each other perfectly; turning arsenal's season around with each match.

It scared you how you strongly you felt about her, as she probably had no idea about the effect she had on you, and above all, probably didn't feel the same. And now you were going to continue to play alongside her and work with her nearly every day this season. You'd eagerly wait to see your cheerful teammate and greet her happily weekly at training. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was something that kept you going.

Hiding your sexuality was something you had no trouble dealing with initially as you just constantly immersed yourself with the football: whether it was with routine season interviews, the sponsorship photoshoots, the constant training or the glamorous award shows - it kept you busy, a distraction which led to you further cementing your place as the best young women's footballer in the world. It's not anything anyone really expected of you anyway, to like girls. Besides, you never spoke about personal matters to the media, so no one really assumed anything at first. Which was a plus.

You'd constantly make excuses to avoid going out with friends away from football, who wanted to enjoy a night on the town, bragging about the boys they'd make out with at clubs, or the crushes they had on them. Not that you could relate though, but a part of you wished you could feel that sense of normalcy. To fit in, to relate. No one had no idea what you were going through or how you felt. It got harder to find excuses to deny random set ups with guys. Your feelings for Alessia were actually driving you to insanity, you were most likely going through an identity crisis - but you were still in denial.

However, the longer you concealed your true feelings and the harder you tried to deny it, you found it harder each and every day hiding how you felt about the certain blonde. It became more difficult to suppress your feelings, you wanted to talk to someone, - anyone - but you were afraid with how they would react if they found out. Besides you weren't going to embarrass yourself if she didn't even feel the same, what would be the point of coming out anyway right?!

But maybe you should've controlled yourself. You should have ignored her, distanced yourself even. It was fine though, you were just acknowledging that fact she was really gorgeous, and you weren't crushing on her - or so you told yourself. But the not-so-subtle glances at her during the training sessions said otherwise.

The glancing became constant, admiring her whenever she'd move with or without the ball or take a drink of water during break. You just couldn't help but admire her longingly. Thinking of believable excuses when being called out by the outspoken Katie McCabe became more difficult to articulate. You were certain Alessia was oblivious to this, and she was - for the time being.

It was supposed to be a post game interview focusing on the team's accomplishments this current season, given the difficulties the team faced at the beginning of the year. You expected to answer questions about your valuable contributions to the match and the squad, not some irrelevant, personal, stupid, phased, feelings that had nothing to do with football.

The lights were brighter than usual in the media room, you were riding a high after your incredible individual and team's performance. You couldn't stop smiling. Sitting in the media room alongside your captain Kim Little, you felt proud and finally content with yourself. You felt as if you were finally contributing to a team, a team that was winning. A distraction for the time being.

That is, until the question was asked.

You will never forget the way your stomach dropped at the question, the silence in the media room, the smirk on the reporters' face. He knew he struck a nerve as the colour drained from your face, you were no longer smiling. You're not sure why the question was asked or what value it had to the match you had just played, or above all - why this reporter was permitted into the the media room anyway asking such inconceivable questions.

You shook your head awaking from the absolute shock and audacity of the reporter. There is no way this is really happening right now. You were media trained - you got this. Totally.

'Could you please repeat the question?' You asked politely into the mic, besides the fact that your was voice now quiet and shaky as you squirmed in your seat, refusing to look at the reporter. He noticed your uneasy reaction, and pressed on, knowing there is more to what your letting on.

"Can you address the rumours within the women's football community that you currently have romantic feelings for your teammate, Alessia Russo?"

"What?! That's ridiculous. Next question."

Maybe you responded to that too quickly, way too quickly for it not to be suspicious as you dismissed him. To your knowledge, and last time you checked, you hadn't come out, you hadn't revealed how you felt about her to anyone - especially not Alessia, and you were certain someone as beautiful as her was taken - surely.....right?

Your throat was going to constrict, no doubt, your breathing becoming heavier and faster, your ears turning a bright red and your leg begins to bounce. Your eyes dart around the room. "How is this football related?" your captain Kim interjects, sensing your uncomfortable state as you fidget on the spot and find it hard to remain composed. She herself looks confused.

Both your heart and mind race. Who told them? How do they know? Where did they even think of something like that? They can't know. Does Alessia know?

You were widely aware that this post-game press conference was currently live. This didn't make the situation better. "Is there really nothing going on? You seem pretty flustered. Besides, you didn't deny it did you?" He smirked, a chorus of chuckles emerging from around the room.

"Stop instigating." The words pour out of your mouth defensively before you can stop them, let alone even comprehend what is going on. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

"I'm not instigating anything, just trying to get the truth out of you. Why don't you start being honest? Show the world who you really are."

Your body shakes with frustration and panic, you can't do this anymore. You rush out of the media room, holding back tears of frustration. This is absolutely ridiculous you think to yourself, barging open the door of the locker-room, ignoring the looks from your teammates.

Silence fills the room, you look up at the television, seeing Kim still in the media room - the broadcast was indeed live. Shit. Alessia, along with everyone else definitely saw it. Shit. You freeze up.

Steph, your teammate turns to you "Hey, are you okay?" You refuse to say anything - afraid your voice might crack, further revealing your vulnerability. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, especially Alessia. Steph senses the inner turmoil your enduring, and gestures everyone out of the locker-room.

You sit there with your head in your hands, as tears threaten to fall. You didn't reveal much in the post-match interview, so everything is fine right? But maybe thats the problem. You didn't deny anything technically - further exposing and embarrassing yourself and probably Alessia. You fail to notice she's still in the locker-room.

You look up slowly, locking eyes. Her ocean blue eyes bore into yours, a glimpse of concern and curiosity. "Can we talk?" She questions softly. Shit

"No thank you, I'd rather not." You say stubbornly, packing your wash bag quickly as she sits down next to you. You had to get out, you had to get away from her.

Alessia is surprised by your nonchalant response. "Lets just talk about this, please?" She says softly in a pleading voice, her eyes looking up, trying to lock with yours.

"I'm sorry." You say quietly, packing your bag and making your way towards the exit of the locker-room as fast as you can. You actually couldn't fathom that this was happening. Is this some sick joke?!

Alessia is concerned and saddened by your dismissive tone, she can tell that this whole situation has negatively affected you and is eating away at you. "Don't be sorry." She says softly, standing up. "It can be hard times, but I just want to understand whats going on. You clearly feel something. Something about me."

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face her, she makes her way towards you her eyes never leaving yours. Your heart aches, and she can see the adoration and the longing that you have for her in your eyes, behind internal conflict and self-hate.

"You're not a bad person. You know that I won't look at you differently." She whispers, pleading with you, trying to lock eyes with yours. "Please don't shut me out. I care about you, so much."

Alessia doesn't wait for a response. She steps closer to you now, closer the distance slowly. Your panting heavily, still refusing to look at her in the eyes, petrified you'd get lost in her ocean eyes. Terrified your eyes will reveal more than your words did in the press conference only moments ago. She can't feel the same. She doesn't.

She gently grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with her ones. You feel as if you're going to have a heart attack, her touch sending bolts of electricity through your body. She can sense you're avoiding eye contact still.

"Hey, look at me" she whispers, staring at your now very flustered face, looking at you intently. Her eyes filled with concern, worry and something else, something you can't quite make out, something you've never seen from her before.

You still avoid her gaze, until she cups your cheek. You lock eyes with hers and you feel like you could die.

"just, look at me" she whispers once more, gently stroking your cheek bone with the pad of her thumb "thats it, just look at me."

Before you can stop yourself, the words fall out of your mouth in a whisper "i am. how can I not?" You let out a shaky breath at that, noticing her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes following your gaze down to her own lips.

"i know, I know you do, I see you" she whispers in response, moving closer to your face now, both your breaths mingling. Your heart continues to pound, her thumb gently traces your jawline, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Its as if time has stopped. Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage you might have a heart attack. But her presence, the way shes looking at you, her voice, her touch—it makes sense in ways you never expected.

And then, just as you think you can’t handle the intensity any longer, she leans in. Were you about to kiss the girl you've been in love with for so long now.....

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #arsenal women #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #womens football #alessia russo x y/n #woso #woso community #awfc #awfc imagine

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jazzyoranges · 5 months ago

Note

Sam carpenter x reader with the song birds of a feather by Billie eilish maybe friends to lovers

Birds of a Feather

Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you and Sam are best friends. until you aren’t

Words: 8k

A/n: ok we kinda went off script with this one but i’d describe this as friends to lovers with a few bumps. is friends to not friends to lovers a trope?

A/n 2: i have something to confess. i’ve never seen scream 5. that might be very evident in this

Warnings: intoxication, usage of drugs, Richie Kirsch, Sam deals with some hard shit, crying, ghostface aftermath, not a warning but Tara is a cutie, mention of a dead parent, maybe ooc sam cause i’ve never written for her and probably should’ve made a less lengthy fic so i could get a feel for her character but wtv 🤷‍♀️

“Hey- What the heck! What was that for, Sam!?” The young boy yells when Sam pushes him off the swing

“You jerk broke my friend’s crayons. She really liked them!” Sam points a finger at the boy, who’s now dusting himself off

“Yeah? What’re you going to do about it?” He smiles a wicked grin. At least, what would be considered wicked in kindergarten

“I’ll never let you on the swings again!”

“I don’t see your name written on it!”

“That’s cause you’re stupid and can’t read!”

Tears well up in the young boys eyes. He blinks them away, running to tell on the teacher him and Sam share. Sam didn’t care, he deserved the insults anyways

“Sammy? What did you do to Carlos?” You run up to Sam, who’s glaring at the back of Carlos’ head from her seat on the swing

“I pushed him. He broke the crayons your dad gave you!” The Carpenter pulls you into a hug, not wanting to let go

“I know he did Sammy, but it’s not nice to push people” You reciprocate the hug, pulling back a bit to see Sam’s face and how her forehead was wrinkled with her eyebrows furrowed. You thought she was cute like one of your stuffed animals

“It’s not nice to break something that doesn’t belong to you! I did it because he was mean to you”

“You’re going to get in trouble! Mrs. Poppy doesn’t know you were trying to protect me”

“Then I’ll tell her, and Carlos will get in trouble too”

“Samantha Carpenter.” Your teacher’s voice was stern. Nothing like the sweet teacher you were used to. You backed away from Sam’s hug but you don’t go far. You hold her tiny hand with your own and make sure to stay close, rubbing her hand in hopes of comfort

“Is it true you pushed Carlos off the swings and said some mean things?”

“Yeah, but he was being mean to (Y/n) first! He broke her new crayons her dad got her! Mrs. Poppy, (Y/n) was really sad” Your dad couldn’t get you many new things due to being a single father. Especially new school supplies. Usually you’d reuse the crayons you didn’t lose or break from previous years or borrow some of Sam’s

On most days you took the bus home with Sam while your dad was off working his ass off to get you dinner every night. Your dad and Sam’s dad were good friends so Mr and Mrs. Carpenter didn’t mind taking care of you until your dad was able to pick you up from their house. Luckily you two lived in the same neighborhood. Some days you thought all of the stars aligned for you and Sam to be friends

“Is this true?” Your teacher shoots a look at the boy next to her. While your teacher was the nicest woman you ever met, she had a deadly glare. You were happy you weren’t on the receiving end of that stare

“N-No…”

“Carlos if I find out you’re lying, you’re going to be sharing the same punishment as Sam.” Mrs. Poppy seems to calm down a bit, entering her nice teacher mode once again

“F-Fine! I did break her crayons” Carlos pouts, crossing his arms

“Thank you for telling the truth, but what you did was wrong. You also did something wrong, Sam. Instead of pushing Carlos off the swing, you could’ve told me and I would have taken care of it” Your teacher bends down to look at the two kids in the eyes

“Sorry, Mrs. Poppy” Sam and Carlos say in unison

“Thank you, you two. I know you two are good kids and know what’s right”

Your teacher leaves with Carlos next to her and you can hear her faintly ask why the boy broke your crayons in the first place

“I like having you as a friend, Sammy” You hug the girl, who’s long since stopped swinging

“I like having you as a friend too, (Y/n)!” Sam beams. Her smile was one of your favorite things ever

“Can we play house?”

“Yeah! I’ll bring my bear next time so she can be our baby!”

//-//

“I can’t believe you can name your sister!” You were over at Sam’s house a few months after her baby sister was born. You didn’t know what to call Sam’s little sister considering… she didn’t really have a name. It was up to Sam to pick a name but of course she was a Carpenter, wanting the best name for her sister. As a result, her baby sister had no name

Until today, that is. Sam was finally making a decision today

“I don’t know what her name is going to be yet” Sam reaches out a finger to her baby sister who happily grabs onto it with curiosity

“She likes you a lot, huh?”

“She knows I’m her sister”

“Maybe I could help you come up with a name! What’s your favorite letter?”

“I like the first letter of your name but I don’t want it to be that! I need to think of something different”

“I know you’ll think of a wonderful name, darling.” Sam’s mom strokes her on the head as she rocks the small baby in her arms

“Do you have another favorite letter?” You ask

“Uh… I like T?”

“What about Triceratops!” You giggle

“Her name can’t be Triceratops, silly!” Sam smiles

“Tennis?”

“(Y/n), those aren’t names” The now older Carpenter giggles along with you

“What about Taylor? Oh! There’s a girl in our class named Thalia?”

“I want it to be different, though! I like those names but Tara needs to be special.” Sam’s eyes go wide in surprise. Maybe her brain just knew her baby sister was supposed to be named Tara

“Tara?” You repeat. “That’s a pretty name! Hi little Tara!” You wave at the baby in her mom’s arms

“Is this official? Is Tara your choice, Sam?”

“Yeah! Tara is a nice name. She looks like her name would be Tara”

“She does, doesn’t she? Such a pretty name you chose, Sam. Honey, come here! We have our daughter’s name!” Mrs. Carpenter yells for her husband

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Sam smile so wide before

//-//

“Hey, Sam?”

“What’s up?”

“Aren’t you scared of middle school?“

“No, why would I be? Middle school should be scared of me” That was your Sam alright. The most fearless person you knew. As far as you knew, she was scared of absolutely nothing. Not even the dark. Which is why you were reluctant to stay outside on your trampoline after sunset. Which is also why you were curled next to Sam as she pointed out all the different stars

“What if we stop being friends?”

“Don’t be stupid, (Y/n)” The Carpenter pinches your cheek and you yelp while giggling, shoving her hand away

“If we stop being friends, which we won’t, I promise I’ll let you have all of my stuffed animals”

“Woah, really?”

“Yes, really

“Every single one of them?”

“Yes, every single one of them” Sam rolls her eyes

“Even Ghostie?” Ghostie was the panda stuffed animal you got Sam for her eighth birthday. Technically your dad bought it for her but you picked it out

“What! You’re not supposed to take a gift back, I like Ghostie”

“Well, you can give me all of your stuffed animals and I’ll just give Ghostie back to you”

“That makes no sense, why wouldn’t you just let me keep it?”

“Cause then you wouldn’t have given me all of your stuffed animals and kept your promise”

“You’re weird, (Y/n)”

“Hey, so are you! That’s why we’re friends”

“Yeah, I guess so” Sam giggles

The sliding door to your house opens and both you and Sam turn to look who’s there. It’s your dad

“Hey, girls! Sam, your parents are leaving now. Best you go with them, eh?”

“Okay! Thank you, Mr. (Y/l/n)” The Carpenter waves to your dad

“Wait, let me go with you inside! It’s scary out here”

//-//

“Sam! What if we get caught out here?” Your words held concern but you couldn’t stop laughing as Sam dragged you under the bleachers

“Shhh! They’re gonna catch us!” The Carpenter put a hand over your mouth and put one over hers so she’d also stop laughing when both of you sat down on the underside of the bleachers where the grass was

Both you and Sam were currently in seventh grade but there was an eighth grade couple that was constantly terrorizing the younger kids. Sam being Sam, she wanted to end their reign.

How did she want to end their reign? By breaking the two up. Sam slipped a note in both of their lockers about meeting to break up during one of their classes, causing both of them to skip. Your job was to lead a teacher to their meetup and if everything went right, then they would be successfully broken up and in detention.

Both of you hear footsteps and see the couple at the meetup spot. The teacher wasn’t far away, all you had to do was rile him up a little and run away. Did you feel a little bad? Maybe. But in your defense the couple was always making out in the hallways and made everyone passing by uncomfortable. For gods sake, it was middle school! Not high school

You and Sam were far enough away you couldn’t hear them but their body language was enough for the both of you to understand. Your plan was going perfectly. You and Sam were more the vigilante type, not the heroes or the villains

The couple exchanged pointed looks and flailing arms, hopefully arguing about the note. You and Sam wrote… not the nicest things in there

The teacher eventually arrives out of breath but the couple is too busy yelling each other to notice how he’s standing over them. He looks to clear his throat and to their horror, they stop fighting. Success!

“Yes! We did it!” Sam says a little too loudly from the position you two were in. Their heads turn in your direction and you know you’re caught when the teacher stars walking towards you two

“Hey! What’re you two doing there under the bleachers?” His ragged voice yells

Shit.

//-//

“Sam? What’s wrong?” You run to the Carpenter, who’s outside under a tree eating her lunch. Usually she’d wait for you but today seemed different

“Get away from me, (Y/n).”

“Sam, don’t be like that. You know me, you can tell me what’s wrong.” You and Sam didn’t share too many classes in eighth grade. Even then, your friendship still didn’t seem to falter. You’d still hang out after school and help each other study. Sam lashing out at you was never really a problem you two had

“No! You don’t know anything.” Sam shoves you away when you try to put your hand on her shoulder. “You’re useless.”

“Sam, you don’t mean that. Please just tell me what’s wrong?”

“You wouldn’t understand. You don’t understand anything.”

“Yes I do! We always talk to each other, Sammy. Even if I’m not going to understand, I can still listen”

“Don’t say that stupid name.”

“I thought you liked Sammy?”

“See, that’s the thing with you! You’re always so stuck in the past. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“You’re not being very nice right now”

“Yeah? Well you can deal with it.” The last thing you expect Sam to do is push you onto the ground into a patch of dirt.

“We’re done. I’m not your friend anymore.”

“Sam- we can talk about this” Tears pool in your eyes. You try to get up but all that happens is a crawl

“We can’t. You’re weak and pathetic and can’t do anything without me.”

Sam doesn’t look back when you say her name through tears. Sam doesn’t look back when she hears a few laughs and whispers directed at you. Sam doesn’t look back.

//-//

“Heyyyyy (Y/n)!” Sam’s voice slurs over the phone. It was almost one in the morning, what the hell was this girl doing? Not to mention this is the first time she’s even talked to you since middle school. And yet, you still answered without hesitation. Damn you really needed to grow a backbone

“Sam? What’s going on?”

“Nothingggggg whut’re y’doin?”

“I was trying to go to sleep then you called me. Where are you?”

“Why’d y’wanna know? You’re not my momma!”

“Are you drunk? Sam, you’re underage!”

“No fun… I’m wif my friends! We at a partayyy!”

“Whose house are you at?” Grabbing your keys, you race to the door. Your dad was asleep and you only had your learners permit but you couldn’t just hang up on your Sam like that.

“Uh… Tristan? He’s in our uh… what class is he in?”

“Math. Tristan from math, got it” You knew where he lived. You tutored the guy as requested by his parents but he paid you more money to stop coming to his house than his parents did for your tutoring business. How could you say no to free money?

Thankfully he wasn’t far. Thank god for that, you weren’t one to drive at night

You go faster than you hope but luckily you don’t get pulled over. You really didn’t want to go to overnight jail and face your dad the next morning but surely he would understand the circumstances you were in. He knew you, he knew Sam, he knew the devotion.

At least that’s what you told yourself on the way to Tristan’s house

You could hear the house blasting bad music from about four blocks away. It was a wonder how the police hadn’t shown up yet. Unless he paid off them too. You wouldn’t put it past the guy

Were you invited? No. But in all the movies you’ve watched - said movies being Mean Girls - random people just showed up and nobody cared enough to kick them out. So you walked up to the door like you were invited and instantly started looking for Sam

The music was so loud you could feel it in your lungs and couldn’t hear your thoughts. You couldn’t imagine this was the scene Sam was willing to put herself in but then again you hadn’t talked to her in years. Maybe under all those layers she was a party animal at heart

You internally laugh at the thought. Like hell Sam’s actually a party animal

After a bit you find Sam snorting some drug that probably shared the name with a sexually transmitted disease. Grabbing the sleeve of her shirt, you drag her out of the house while her friends groan and call you a party pooper.

“Hey! Wh- what’s wrong wif you!?”

“We’re going home, Sam. I’m taking you home”

“No! T-Tara can’t see me. Wanna go somewhere else…” Sam struggles against your grip. She’s always been stronger than you but in her intoxicated state you could probably carry her like a sack of potatoes if you tried hard enough

“Fine, I’ll take you to my house. You can spend the night”

“Noooo, wanna party…”

“We’re going home, Sam.”

In all of your years of friendship with Sam, she’s never seen you so stern before. The Carpenter keeps her mouth shut for the rest of the car ride.

After lots of trial and error, you eventually get Sam out of your car and into your bedroom with much difficulty. Thankfully your dad was the heaviest sleeper you knew. You search for a shirt and shorts that fit Sam, ignoring her protests of not wanting to sleep

Against your better judgment, you now have your intoxicated ex-best friend in your bed as her sobriety was nowhere to be found

“Why did you call me, Sam? Even in your state I know you couldn’t do that on accident”

“Ugh, friends made me. Wan’ me t’call my first crush”

“What?” You’re taken aback. Did you hear her correctly?

“Tired… m’sleepy”

You sigh, bringing your hand to Sam’s face to stroke her cheek. Your heart breaks when the older Carpenter leans into your hand like a touch starved cat. You wished things would go back to normal but Sam was stubborn. She wouldn’t let you in no matter how many times you tried.

“Go to sleep, Sam. I hope I’ll see you in the morning” You’re only met with small snores

You wanted to hate Sam. You wanted to hate Sam with all your heart for pushing you away and not even looking at her sister anymore

You wanted to hate Samantha Carpenter so badly but you couldn’t

//-//

It’s nine thirty in the morning when you hear a knock at your door. It was a Saturday. Who the hell was up this early? Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and attempting to smooth out your hair with your hands, you begrudgingly walk downstairs to the door. Your dad was at work already and usually you weren’t up at this hour

Looking through the peephole, you don’t expect to see Tara Carpenter in tears at your door.

“Hey what happened, sweetheart?” You bend down to meet Tara’s eyes. They were red and puffy, evidently showing she was crying a lot. And a lot before she got to you

“S-Sam, she-“ Your heart broke when Tara couldn’t let out even a few words without hiccuping and sniffling

“You can tell me later, darling. How about we drink some juice and you can tell me what’s happening, yeah?”

“No! S-Sam’s…” There seemed to be a never ending amount of tears flowing. “She’s gone, (Y/n). She’s gone and she’s gone for good.” Tara runs into your arms, staining your shirt with her tears.

“What do you mean, baby?”

“M-Mom said Sam left a-and isn’t coming back…” Your heart breaks when Tara’s breathing gets quicker and isn’t able to catch her breath

You pick up the younger Carpenter, taking her to your couch. Tara’s on your lap and you’re holding her just like her mom probably did when she was born. It was something your dad always did, even when you got older. Sometimes people just needed to be babied no matter how old they were.

So you start rocking Tara. She’s holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping her alive and you move her ear to your heart. Placing her head under your chin, you hum a tune that was familiar to you. A lullaby your mom always sung to you before she died

You kiss Tara’s forehead with tears in your eyes. You saw how Sam changed and you couldn’t help her. You knew this day was going to come and you couldn’t stop it. But how could you?

When Sam looked at you with such hatred and anger, you’d wonder if she was still the same Sam that pushed Carlos because he broke your new crayons. When you saw her high out of her mind with people that didn’t care about her, you’d wonder if she was the same Sam that watched the stars with you on your trampoline. When you looked at Sam all you could see was what you two were. Was your Sam even still in there there?

You felt disgusted with yourself. You could’ve done something and yet you did nothing.

You’d never see best friend again and Tara would only remember her sister as hateful and unloving. Memories of Sam would go sour until you only had Tara and Tara only had you as a reminder of who Sam used to be.

When the younger Carpenter sees you also crying, she somehow manages to hug you tighter than she already has. What a lovely girl Tara was.

“A-Are you okay, (Y/n)?” The brunette says in a small voice

“Can I be honest with you, Tara?” You earn a nod from the small girl

“No. I’m not okay. But you know what? I’ve got you and you got me. Thank you for telling me.”

“(Y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Mom says she isn’t coming back. Sam didn’t talk to me a lot but I miss her.”

“You’ve got such a big heart, Tara. Did you know that? Please don’t ever lose it for me.”

“Will Sam come back?”

Your breath hitches and for a second you’re left without words in your throat and without knowledge about the future.

“Yes… she’ll come back. Sam just doesn’t know it yet.”

Tara’s mom comes storming in a second later with an out of breath angry expression that slowly softens when she sees how her daughter is nestled in your arms

“Tara, you can’t just run away like that. You made me so scared, you know I can’t run as fast as you” Her mom presses a kiss to her forehead

“I had to tell (Y/n), Mom! She’s Sam’s best friend and she deserved to know”

Her mom brought a hand to Tara’s face to wipe a few stray tears. With her other, she placed on your shoulder with a small nod. Sam was gone. She was gone for good.

//-//

Sam spends her first night away from home in her car in a neighborhood she didn’t recognize. The first night Sam leaves, she holds Ghostie in her arms and hopes it’s enough to keep her safe.

//-//

“You’re hiding something”

“What?” You and Tara always hung out ever since Sam left. Her mom hasn’t been the same since her husband walked out. You offered to be one of Tara’s caretakers to help her mom with the load of being a single mother without Sam or her husband’s support

Your dad wasn’t home very often but every now and again he’d give you random tips on how to raise a teenager. At least, tips he used when he raised you. At first he was skeptical of you taking on the role of caretaker at such a young age but when you employed Tara to use her puppy eyes, it was a losing battle for him.

So Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, Tara was all yours. You’ve been doing this since you turned eighteen and could confidently drive without being nervous at all. Also mostly because you couldn’t be her guardian in the eyes of the law under eighteen

There was a void in Tara’s heart and while you couldn’t fully replace her sister, the least you could do was be there. Which is how you knew something was up when she started picking at one of the things she loved so dearly. Your cooking.

“I know you’re hiding something, squirt”

“You’re crazy, I’m not hiding anything” Tara scoffs

“Hey, I’m not decades older than you. I know when you’re lying” You hated pulling the ‘I used to be your age’ card but now you’re realizing how effective it is when you’re only six or seven years older than Tara

Tara throws her head back, groaning in what seems to be frustration and covering her face. You can’t hold back your snicker. The younger Carpenter was always one for theatrics

“You don’t have to tell me but I could really help you, you know? With how super knowledgeable I am, as you know”

“Knowledgeable my ass, you didn’t know your microwave had a popcorn button until I told you”

“In my defense, I heard you’re not even supposed to use the popcorn button for popcorn”

“Then why is it called a popcorn button?”

“I dunno. Maybe the same reason why Greenland is called Greenland”

“What?”

“Deception. The guy who found Greenland named it that cause he wanted more people to come over. I bet he was lonely”

“Why do you know that?” Tara says in between laughs

“No clue, but we’re getting off topic!” You smile. “The point is, you shouldn’t feel like you have to keep secrets from me.” You reach over to pinch Tara’s cheek and she tries to swat your hand away, ultimately failing. “Well, big secrets. If you cheated on a test or something I don’t care that much”

“Thanks, (Y/n)”

“No problemo, squirt”

So now you were back to silently eating dinner except for your TV playing some sitcom Tara liked. You could handle the quietness. Even if Tara didn’t want to tell you, at least she knew you were there to listen. That’s all that mattered

“(Y/n), I think I like a girl.”

//-//

“What was Sam like?” Tara says out of the blue. “I was thirteen when she left but she didn’t really talk to me. What was she like… before that?”

It was another weekend night that consisted of spending time with Tara. The question catches you off guard

“I don’t think you’d believe me, squirt”

“Well I wanna know anyways. Even if i believe it or not”

“Did you know Sam named you?”

“She did?”

“Yeah, Sam named you Tara. You were unnamed for a while before she came up with anything.”

“Mom said she was mean. Is that true?”

“I mean yeah, but not entirely. When you’re friends with Sam, she’d be the nicest person you’ve ever met. Hell, she’d probably kill for anyone she loved. But when someone messed with a person she loved, nothing could stop her from making her loved one feel better”

“I wish I could’ve experienced it.”

“Trust me, you did. You just don’t remember it. One time when you were little, a kid that was around Sam’s age at time pushed you into the mud at the playground and Sam was furious” You laugh

“You cried and Sam could hear you from where we were playing soccer. She found him and kicked his ass so hard he crawled back to his mommy so we took you and booked it out of there”

“She did that?” Tara covers her mouth laughing, failing to cover it up

“I remember it like it was yesterday, squirt. Sam gave you a piggy back ride and you were giggling the entire time we ran home.”

//-//

“Fuck, Tara! Shit, I came as fast as I could. Are you okay? Oh my god, of course you’re not okay.” You barged into Tara’s hospital room without any concern of who else was in there. You took her face in your hands and scanned for anything wrong until you brought her into a bone crushing hug. “Sorry, stupid question. Holy shit I’m so happy you’re alive, squirt. I am never letting you out of my sight again. Okay maybe in the future I will, but the future is not now! Right now I’m never leaving you again.”

“You’re such a fighter, you know that? Holy shit you must’ve been so scared. Tara you’re the strongest person I know, did you know that?” There are tears in your eyes threatening to spill. You don’t even notice there are other people in the room.

“Deep breaths, (Y/n). I’m okay. Look, I’m right here” Tara takes one of your hands and puts it against her heart. Your eyes can’t hold in your tears any longer. When you cried, you rambled. Tara was ready for the storm.

“Fuck you’re such a sweet girl, Tara. Even when you’re lying in a hospital bed you care about me. I don’t know what monster would do this to you! He obviously doesn’t know what a blessing to this world you are. Please promise you’ll never let anyone stop you from being the beautiful sweet girl you are.”

There it was.

You felt a hand rub your back and your arm. You assumed it was Tara. Until you heard a hum that wasn’t Tara’s. Until you realized this person had rough hands. And oddly smelt like…

“Sam?” Your head whips around

“Hey, (Y/n). I… I missed you.”

“Sam?” You let go for a second and bring your hand to her face. Not in a cute or romantic holding-her-cheek-way, no, you pinch at her cheeks and nose with a questioning look. You poke at Sam’s forehead and nose, still probably in disbelief. Yeah, you were still her (Y/n).

“Please don’t tell me both of you are dead and I’m actually in a psych ward and this is all a dream” You whisper and you can hear Tara laugh behind you

“No, this is all very real.” Sam smiles, taking your hand off her face and gently putting it back by your side. Your eyes go wide and you whip around to look back at the younger Carpenter

“Tara, can I take my attention off you for a second? Will you be okay?” You whisper, knowing damn well Sam could hear you

“Yeah I’ll be okay, (Y/n). Go hug Sam.”

You press a kiss against Tara’s hairline and immediately after, launch into Sam’s arms. Tara could feel it again, you were going to start crying and rambling.

“Sam, I can’t believe you’re here! Well of course you’re here. I always knew you’d come back! I knew you wanted to come back. I don’t know why you left, but I hope you achieved your goal and came back because you missed us. Also I’m really mad at you but for the sake of time we can discuss that at a later time.”

There it was.

“You two are close, huh?” You don’t notice there’s a man with curly hair in the room and you raise an eyebrow at Sam

“Yeah, very close” You say

“Sorry, I should introduce you two. (Y/n), this is my boyfriend Richie. Richie, this is (Y/n). My…” Fuck. Sam couldn’t just say you were her best friend after all these years. After she made your life shit, was she even allowed to call you her friend? What if-

“Best friend. Happy to meet you, Richie”

“Likewise” He smiles. There’s a pang of a certain emotion in your chest you can’t quite place

“Well, I’ll be going now. Feel better soon, Tara” Richie waves at the younger Carpenter and gives Sam a kiss before he leaves Tara’s hospital room

“Do you know if my friends are visiting soon?” Tara asks you. Sam doesn’t know how to feel when she sees Tara treating you more like a sister than her. She knew it was wrong. Sam had no right to be treated like a sister after she just up and left all those years ago

“Amber told me she was getting some of your things from her house. The twins are coming over right now, okay? I think you’ll feel better when you see them”

Sam felt like an alien watching you and Tara talk. Watching you two was like watching everything she’s missed. Sam missed almost all of Tara’s high school experience. Arguably one of the most important times to have an older sister. She shouldn’t have been jealous. She wasn’t allowed to be jealous after all she did to you and Tara

“How’re you feeling right now? Anything I need to tell the doctors?”

“No, I’m feeling okay”

“Hey, can I talk to you outside, (Y/n)?” Sam says almost above a whisper

“Yeah, of course.” You turn to face Tara as you walk out her room. “See you in a second, squirt. Don’t run away” The brunette rolls her eyes at your words

“Guess I owe you all my stuffed animals, huh?”

“You still remember that?” You raise an eyebrow at the girl

“I do. I owe you an explanation, don’t I?”

“An explanation would be appreciated” You weren’t mad at Sam per se, just very very very disappointed. Mostly at yourself for letting her leave

“You remember when I yelled at you that day in middle school? I said I didn’t want to talk to you or be your friend anymore? It’s not an excuse, but I have an explanation.”

You nod along to Sam’s story, listening close

“The night before I yelled at you, I found out my dad wasn’t really my dad. I was going through my mom’s diaries I found in the attic and it was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I.. I found out I was-“ Sam doesn’t realize she’s crying until she chokes on her words and your expression falters. Sam remembers you were always good at comforting people

She’d always get bruises and scrapes when she was younger but you were always there to make her feel better. Fuck, she can’t remember why she would ever leave you. You were the perfect best friend. Always an inviting smile and open arms that were ready for hugs. The only one that stuck with Sam through whatever happened.

Sam was at her lowest of lows when you picked her up that night during the party. She remembers wondering why she’d put you so much pain and worry. She smoothed out the wrinkles on your forehead while you were asleep and felt guilty she was probably the cause of them. That night when you picked up Sam from that party and you had your arms wrapped around her, Sam asked herself why she would ever push you away. She loved everything about you. She loved you.

In her drunken state she remembers wanting to fade away into your memory. At least then you’d remember the Sam that played tag with you and not the one that snorted or drank away her pain. It was the same night she decided to leave everything behind. She decided to leave you behind

But Sam was selfish. She wanted you to tell her not to go. To come back into your arms and for you to tell her everything would be okay. That it didn’t matter she was the bastard child of a serial killer. It wasn’t her fault her dad left. Reassuring her you and Tara would love Sam the same. In a perfect world Sam would’ve still been Tara’s sister and you would’ve been her-

“Hey, look at me. You don’t have to tell me. If this is hurting you so much then I understand why you wanted to run away. What matters is that you came back. You’re strong for that” You pull Sam into your arms, letting her cry into the side of your neck.

Sam didn’t have the heart or the voice to tell you it wasn’t the story making her cry. She feared her voice would fail her and drive you away again. Sam would tell you why she left later

But right now, Sam was happy to be able to bask in your arms once again.

//-//

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

“Mhm?” You and Sam were back at your house getting some things Tara wanted

She requested the teddy bear Amber got her for her birthday, a blanket from her bed, and something better than hospital food. You decided to whip up something quick and simple you knew Tara liked. Frozen orange chicken from the store and fried rice

“I think I can tell you about why I left now.”

“Are you sure? I’m not gonna force you to tell me if it hurts so much to say, Sam”

“No, you of all people deserve to know. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m the same person that said all those horrible things to you and just never talked to you again without explanation.”

“Hey, don’t worry about all that. It’s in the past now and I know you’ve changed. I forgive you-“

“No, (Y/n). You can’t forgive me. You can’t make excuses for me and talk to me like we’re best friends again when I ignored you because I was mad at myself and- and-“ Sam chokes on her words and can’t hide it when you glance at her.

“Oh, Sam…”

“No, you can’t forgive me yet. I betrayed your trust. You can’t forgive me.”

“Sam, I accepted your apology when I saw you in Tara’s hospital room. Whatever you were going to say, I already knew I’d forgive you all the same.”

“Stop saying that, (Y/n). You don’t always have to be nice, you can be mad too.”

“But it’s true, Sam. If I’m mad at someone, I’m mad at myself for not fighting for you harder”

“How can you still look at me even when I left you. Years of friendship, all down the drain because I couldn’t handle being the bastard child of a serial killer that broke her family apart.” You turn off the heat to your stove, walking over to where Sam was curled into herself and sitting near the bottom of the staircase

Taking a seat next to her, you drape your arm around her shoulders and attempt to get her to rest her head on your shoulder. Sam doesn’t let you and fights back.

“Samantha Carpenter, you have been gone for five years. One-thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days, not including leap day. You aren’t allowed to push me away again. If you really want to say sorry, you can start by letting me in.” You take on a faux-mad tone and it seems to work

Slowly, the older Carpenter leans into your shoulder with a sigh. She makes herself comfortable and looks at you through her eyelids. It was weird. Five years out of Woodsboro and four years away from you, yet you still opened up your arms like nothings changed. It was odd. You were odd.

“What’re you thinking about?” You’ve always had a knack for reading Sam’s mind. Whenever she got quiet and her heart looked like it slowed, she was probably thinking

“You.”

“What about me?”

“How I don’t get you”

“What don’t you get about me?”

“I haven’t talked to you in nine years, I show up unannounced, and you’re still acting like we’re best friends even after all this time. I can’t tell if you’re the nicest or weirdest person ever.”

“Can’t I be both?” You smile, trying to lighten the mood. You realize it doesn’t work when Sam shies away from your gaze

“Well, I can be honest. I think it’s because I’m selfish.” That makes Sam look at you again so you decide to keep going

“Of course I’m… disappointed you broke up our friendship and you left without telling me and left your sister and I to believe you were never coming back,” The older Carpenter winces at your words but you don’t let her stop looking at you. Even as you avoid eye contact and place your gaze somewhere else.

“But there’s a part of me that wants everything to go back to normal. I know we’re going to have to talk about it. About us and about why, but right now I think what we need to do is be there for Tara. She’s in the hospital after being attacked by a serial killer and the last thing she needs is her older sister and her best friend fighting. We can do all the yelling and crying and screaming later.”

Taking a breath in, you look back at Sam who’s already looking at you. I’m makes your heart flutter in a way you don’t understand.

“And maybe that’s my excuse. Maybe I never want to cry or yell or scream at you. Maybe I’m putting off the inevitable because I don’t want you to leave again. Maybe Tara is my excuse for not being mad at you. Maybe I’m holding out hope for someone that doesn’t exist anymore. We’re different people than when we were in middle school. I don’t want to cling to a person that doesn’t exist anymore yet here I am, clinging to someone that doesn’t exist like she’s my lifeline. But in all honesty, I don’t think I could stay mad at you for too long. Even if I tried.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” There’s a silence that passes between you two. You can’t tell if it’s awkward or comfortable silence. You hope it’s the latter

“Do you get me a little more?”

“Well, not entirely. But I think it’s a step.”

“Yeah. Steps are good, aren’t they? Keep you healthy.” Sam smiles at your stupid joke.

You don’t miss how Sam still reminds you of looking like one of your old stuffed animals.

“What was Tara like?”

“What do you mean?” The question catches you off guard. The Carpenter sisters seemed to have that in common

“I missed a lot of her life. What was she like?”

“I don’t think she’s changed a lot. Tara is a sweet girl, she’s got a good head on her shoulders and a good heart in her body.”

“But that’s probably not what you’re asking. Tara was… distraught when you left.” You pick your words carefully. “She ran away from her mom just to tell me you left. She said I deserved to know since I was your best friend. It took a while for her to want to let go of me me. It’s when I knew I just couldn’t let her stay like that forever”

You shakily sigh before continuing. You’d have to acknowledge the elephant in the room eventually and you decided it was going to be now. “I know I’m not her real sister. I hope you’ll forgive me for taking a role that was supposed to-“

“Are you kidding?” Sam quickly cuts you off when she registers what you’re saying. “If anything, I’m happy it was you.” The Carpenter lifts her head up from your shoulder to look at you. To really look at you. “I know she has a good person to look up to. I’m happy you two are close.”

You’re about to respond when your ringtone goes off. The same ringtone you had in high school. Some Evanescence song you remember religiously listening to in school blasts from your phone. Usually it was Tara who found it embarrassing when you had to answer it in public but this time it was you with the reddened cheeks. Scrambling to find your phone in your pocket, you pull it out to see it’s Tara calling you

“Hey squirt. What’s up?”

“Are you guys going to hurry up anytime soon? I’m starving”

“Yeah we’re leaving just now don’t worry about it”

“Okay but my stomach is currently eating itself”

“You’ll live. I’ll see you soon, yeah? Don’t go running anywhere”

“At least I don’t run jokes into the ground until they’re dead… pun not intended”

“Hah! Proof you’re taking after me whether you like it or not”

“Whatever, I’ll see you soon. Run red lights if you have to”

“You got it, boss. See you soon” You pocket your phone, getting up from where you’re sitting. Offering Sam your hand, she takes it and you help her up too

“C’mon, our little girl’s hungry. That’s something you should know, she’s got an appetite the size of an elephant and a metabolism as fast as a cheetah” You smile, putting Tara’s food in a lunchbox you had in a random cabinet somewhere

Sam doesn’t trust her voice to do anything but break so she laughs at your comment and you both leave your house

Sam thinks our little girl has a good ring to it.

//-//

“Oh my god. Tara? Sam?” You narrowly avoided the police yelling at you to get away and the caution tape that prevented you from coming any closer. What used to be a house that held fond memories had been replaced with one that only caused you worry. You couldn’t lose both Tara and Sam. You couldn’t lose your favorite girls.

Sam texted you to come over to Amber’s house. That it was a Ghostface emergency and the speed in which you jumped in your car rivaled The Flash himself

“(Y/n)!” Sam’s voice. You run to the sound, dodging and weaving through the paramedics and police officers telling you to leave

Sam finds you with bags under your eyes and your hair a mess. It looked like you were in your sleepwear. Even though you were just in a band tee and plaid pajama pants, Sam feels the need to wipe the blood off her face and clothes to look a little presentable. You always had that effect for some reason

“Sam.” You breathe a sigh of relief, running into her arms. Your choked sobs reach her ears and it’s the saddest sound she’s ever heard. Sam squeezes you tighter. Maybe if she did she’d never want to leave again

“You’re back and you almost left me again. Don’t you know how mad I would be if you died?” Pulling back, you put both of your hands on Sam’s cheeks like you did so many years ago. “You- you-“

“Hey, shh… I’m here. I’m here, sweetie. See? I’m here and I’m never leaving again.” Sam leans her forehead against yours, putting your hands around her waist so she could wipe the tears away from your face.

“I’m here, yeah? We won. They’re gone now, (Y/n).”

“How’re you sure?”

“They’re dead. Both of the Ghostfaces are dead.”

Sam leans in, awfully close for someone who’s just your best friend. Your mind instantly goes to her boyfriend. You know what’s about to happen so you back away, a little weary. The Carpenter furrows her eyebrows looking a little sad, oddly resembling a kicked puppy.

“What about Ric-?”

“Don’t say his name, it’ll ruin your perfect mouth” Sam cups your cheek, running her face over your bottom lip

You have to fight your body to not get hot at her words and actions. “Yeah but- he’s kind of your boyfriend. Where is he?”

“Ex-boyfriend actually. He’s dead, I killed him.”

“Oh. Am I right for assuming that’s a god thing?”

“Very good. He was one of the Ghostfaces”

“One of? Who’s the other?”

“I think Tara should be the one to tell you”

“Well, I didn’t like Richie to begin with. He gave me an odd feeling”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Sam leans in closer to you, a ghost of a kiss hanging in the air waiting to be taken. Sam smiles against your breath and for a fraction of a second you think your heart has stopped beating.

“He got to kiss you before I did.” Something snaps in Sam when you kiss her. A craving she’s always had, a certain desire finally being filled, or maybe even her dreams coming true.

You hold Sam like she’s about to leave again, pulling her impossibly close. You’re never letting her go again. It’s Sam who pulls away first. She’s out of breath but you lean in to steal more kisses before she smiles against your lips and it’s an image you never want to forget.

“Please, you two have to stop doing this.” You whisper, your eyes going wide. “Where’s Tara?” You pull away from Sam, whipping your head around like it’s going to help you find her quicker

“C’mon, she’s over here. Be careful, don’t squeeze her too hard”

“I’m going to squeeze that girl until she knows how much I love her.”

“You might break one of her ribs, darling”

“Squirt, you’re alive!” You run to Tara as her head whips in your direction. You can feel tears pool in your eyes once again and you’re okay with letting them go.

“(Y/n), I was so scared. A-Amber she- she tried to kill me.”

“What? Amber? Amber as in, your girlfriend?” You say shocked, taking Tara’s face in your hands to look at her

“A-Amber and Richie, they-“

“How about we tell (Y/n) what happened later? We need to make sure everyone is okay, including ourselves. (Y/n) can wait, right?”

“Oh I can wait alright. I’m the best at waiting. You can tell me about it when you’re feeling better”

One of the paramedics call over the Carpenter sisters and by proximity, you tag along. A man is ushering them in an ambulance and you’re also about to hop in before he stops you

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but we can’t let you into the ambulance. We don’t have enough space.”

“That is my little girl and that is my girlfriend. I will either be running every single red light, hang on the top of this ambulance, or so forgive me god for what I’m going to do.”

“O-Of course, Ma’am. You can ride in the ambulance.”

“Thank you, sir. You made a good decision today” You pat his shoulder, taking your seat near Sam. You sling an arm around Sam’s shoulders and reach out to hold Tara’s hand.

“Girlfriend, huh?” Tara weakly smiles, looking between you and her sister.

#sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter #sam carpenter #scream 5 #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #amber freeman #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #richie kirsch #melissa barrera #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x you

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caraetdeul · 2 months ago

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Right Beside You

Choi Seungcheol x gn!reader

Distance is nothing when you've got a love like this.

TW: None. Fluff, Long distance relationship, use of nicknames, some light cursing, slight mention of sex but nothing exclusive

A/n: this was shorter than the usual ones I write but nonetheless, it was still fun to do. Here's a fluff fic for Coups as a remedy for the angsty ones. Enjoy reading caratdeuls!

~Main Masterlist~

You’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately. If you haven’t felt the exhaustion in your body already, then the prominent bags under your eyes will definitely tell you that you are. But it’s not much of a surprise for you at this point because you know that the reason behind this isn’t something that should be astronomically studied. Instead, it all stems from the fact that you can’t sleep alone ever since your relationship with Seungcheol started.

Maybe there’s some sort of scientific reason as to why your boyfriend’s weight on your body as you cuddle up with each other is the only thing that can calm you enough to fall asleep. But maybe it can all just be a coincidence and you’re just having a mental breakdown at the thought of sleeping by yourself. Either way, nothing helps. And just like every night since Seungcheol left for his world tour, you’re left on your shared bed by yourself, staring at the ceiling while contemplating if the time difference between you won’t be much of a bother for him.

You know how tiring his work as an idol can be. Even when you’re far from him, there’s no doubt how much his job takes a toll on him just based on the updates you get from his messages and his group’s social media accounts. But even then, you still witness how hard he worked for each project they had. The passion and love that they give, not just for their work but also for their fans, are unmatched. As for you, you’ve never been so proud of someone until Seungcheol walked into your life and you always make sure he knows it. But he’ll be damned if he didn’t share the sentiment with you every time. So whenever you both come home from working all day, all your energy may be drained with the day’s demands but it will never hinder you from spending quality time within the comfort of each other’s arms. Safe to say, that was how your days always end.

Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol’s not faring any better than you. Jet lag may be a bigger factor in his exhaustion but he couldn’t deny that being without you by his side is also affecting him. Now that he thinks about it, that’s probably why the other members have been very mindful of everything that they do around him ever since they left the country. So when your phone rang just as you were about to Facetime him yourself, you knew right then and there that you weren’t alone in your misery. The relief of finally seeing your face once again washed over him the moment that you answered, the tension leaving his body in the meantime.

“Hi honey,” Seungcheol smiled sheepishly, his eyes crinkling with poorly hidden mirth, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You hummed, “No, I was already awake. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just missing you.”

Your heart melted at his innocent confession. You can feel your cheeks warm up as you reply bashfully, “I miss you too.”

Seungcheol’s smile widened but immediately turned upside down once he got a good look at you. Concern was written all over his face as he looked at you through the screen.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Yes.”

Seungcheol sighed and you knew he caught your lie.

“Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

You inhaled deeply, “Well, it’s not much of a why but more of a how…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how I’ve been sleeping with you ever since we got together?”

Seungcheol snorted, his cheeks turning pink, “Oh, honey.”

Your eyes widened once you realized the double meaning behind what you just said. The screen shook as you immediately sat up, your hands waving around as you tried to explain yourself, “That’s not what I meant! I promise! I was talking about how we’re sleeping together— beside each other! Beside. Each. Other. On the bed. Innocently. Not sex. Definitely not sex. But not like I’m saying that I don’t want to do that either ‘cause I do but that’s not what I meant. I just—”

Seungcheol’s laughter finally registered in your mind, effectively stopping you from digging yourself into a deeper hole. You pouted annoyed, “I hate you.”

“I’m sorry.” Seungcheol cooed, still laughing in between words, “I couldn’t help it. You were just being all cute and shit as you tried to defend yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip as a smile fought its way onto your face. You then giggled when Seungcheol hadn’t stopped laughing, his joy outright contagious. As his laughter died down, so does yours. The air in your room was lighter than before and you only have your boyfriend to thank for.

“Now be honest, what’s the real reason why you’re not sleeping?”

You sighed, your voice softer with slight embarrassment, “I couldn’t sleep without your big arm around me and your body snuggled onto my side.”

His eyes softened, smiling remorsefully at the thought, “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I was there to be with you.”

You shook your head, “You don’t have to apologize. I know your work is very important and I know how much you enjoy it. I don’t want to be in between you and your work. I can deal with this in the meantime. This will pass, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

The side of his lips twitched in thought, still unbothered by your situation despite your reassurances. His mouth opened, about to say something more but he was cut off by someone in the background shouting his name. You watched him from the other side of the screen as he talked to the person just out of the camera’s view.

Seungcheol turned back to you with a grimace, “Honey, I’m sorry but I got to go. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Please, try and get some sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You sent a flying kiss and laughed when Seungcheol caught it in the most dramatic way possible before ending the call. It wasn’t even a minute later when the silence of the bedroom dampened your mood. You sighed, lying down on your bed once again. You check the time on the bedside table, realizing that you only have 4 hours before you need to get up and go to work. Shuffling under the covers in an attempt to get comfortable as much as you can, you closed your eyes dreading another sleepless night.

~~~~~

It’s been a week since you had that call and since then, your sleep wasn’t getting any better.

You trudged your way into your apartment, exhausted from a stressful day at work. You probably had 3 cups of coffee already by lunchtime and an energy drink that was given to you by your coworker who had already witnessed you nodding off multiple times on your desk. Despite all of it, your sleepless nights were definitely catching up to you.

You made your way to your couch, leaving your shoes messily by the door. It’ll just be future me problem, you thought as you stumble through your living room. Plopping down on your couch, you were met by a big rectangular box on your coffee table with a note on top. Your senses immediately woke up, slowly panicking at the thought that someone was inside your apartment without you knowing. You cautiously took the note, eyeing the exterior of the box as if it were some kind of bomb waiting to explode on you. But once you opened the note, your heart slowly went back to its normal pace as you read through the letter.

To my loving and gorgeous partner in crime and in life,

I know you’ve been having a hard time sleeping ever since I left and I know it’s because I’m not there with you to hold you while you sleep. So to make up for my absence, I bought this for you. Hopefully, it can suffice for the time being. I even sprayed it with my perfume so it would feel closer to the real deal. Stay safe, I love you and I’ll see you soon.

Lots of love,

Seungcheol

P.S. Joshua got bored in the hotel so he begged me to embroider a small part of it. Couldn’t really deny his request when he told me his idea.

P.P.S. Please, don’t panic once you see the package in your apartment. I asked your mom to bring it to you and I told her where the spare key is.

You immediately opened the package and almost sobbed once you saw what was inside. You slowly pulled out the folded weighted blanket from the box which was also in your favorite color. Even from a distance, you could already smell Seungcheol’s perfume all over it which only made you want to cry more. As you unfolded the blanket on your lap, you finally found the embroidered part of the blanket which was on the top left corner. You laughed under your breath in amusement and awe once you realized that Joshua embroidered a chibi version of your favorite animal holding a big cherry and underneath it were both of your initials in red thread.

It was perfect.

That night, Seungcheol received a selfie of you snuggled up under the blanket with the embroidered part, which he was guessing was right over your heart. You then received a selfie of his own, which shows his dimpled smile with a half-heart sign on his cheek. Needless to say, you finally got a good night’s sleep.

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela @allys-reads @clownprincehoeshi @yoonzzziino @gyuguys

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navybrat817 · 7 months ago

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The Dad Diaries: Grief

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky explains grief to Jamie as best as he can when you need a minute to yourself. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, touch of fluff, grief, loss of a friend, reflecting, talk of death, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Another part to the The Dad Diaries . Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky could hear your cries before he reached the bedroom, the sound causing a lump to form in his throat. He could picture you hastily wiping at your face when he knocked. You were in pain and it hurt him to know you were hurting. The worst part was that it wasn’t the kind of pain he could fix by patching it up. It was the kind of hurt that lingered beneath the surface before it clawed its way out.

Grief.

“Do you need anything, doll?” He asked.

“Just give me a minute, please!” You called out, your voice close to sounding like your normal self. You were trying your best to be strong when what you needed was a moment to break. People didn’t realize the weight of the things they carried until they buckled under them.

And you didn’t need to be strong all the time.

“Mama?” Jamie asked, reaching a hand out toward the door.

Bucky kissed the top of his head. “Mama needs a minute,” he whispered before he held him against his chest. He hoped his smell and steady heart beat soothed him. “She’ll snuggle up with you soon, okay?”

If anything could make you feel better apart from being in his arms, it was having your son nuzzle against you.

Jamie made a small sound, his lower lip trembling. “Mama,” he said again.

Bucky didn’t take it to heart that his son wanted you. He understood that there were days when he’d want his dad and other days he’d want his mom and times when he’d want both of you. If anything, he felt proud that his son wanted to go to you. Maybe he sensed that you needed support and love.

“I know you want your mama,” he said, carrying him back to the living room. “But you are stuck with me for another minute.”

Jamie moved his head, his eyes set in a stubborn stare. He looked so much like you at that moment, demanding with a look to know what was the matter and how to fix it. What could he say?

“Jamie, you know how you have your Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam and Aunt Nat and everyone else?” He asked, a sad smile touching his lips at the happy look in his little boy’s eyes at the mention of his friends. He wanted his child to hold onto that innocence for as long as he could. “Well, your mama had a friend who was going to be like an aunt to you, too.”

Was. Past tense. Because your friend recently passed away. You wondered if she knew how important she was to you. If she knew how she impacted your life. She was too young in your eyes to go. Still had so many things she wanted to do. While death is fair in that it comes for everyone, it doesn’t always feel fair when someone you care for is taken away too soon.

The one thing you were thankful for was that she was no longer in pain.

“Mama’s friend, your aunt, isn’t here anymore. She misses her and she’s sad that she’s gone.”

“Mama sad?” Jamie repeated, his eyes wide.

“Yeah, Nugget. She’s very sad. Grieving. And grief is… so many things,” Bucky explained, swallowing a bit as he felt a crack in his heart. “It’s loss and mourning. It’s love that you carry inside and it no longer has a place to go.”

Jamie gazed at him, soaking up every word. His son was too young to hear something like this. Too precious. But if life taught him anything, it’s that it was too short and there was no guarantee of tomorrow.

“Some days the grief comes out of nowhere. You never really know when it’ll happen or why. You may hear a song you’ve heard dozens of times before or catch a scent of something familiar and it triggers a memory or feeling,” he told him, kissing his forehead again because he needed to ground himself. “You think you’re fine and then you fall apart.”

That was exactly what had happened a few minutes prior. You were smiling one moment as the three of you sat in the living room and the next you burst into tears before you rushed out. Bucky wished like hell he could’ve manifested your sadness into something tangible so he could snuff it out. It wasn’t his battle to fight, but he could be by your side to wipe the tears away if you let him. Or whisper words of care. Or to say nothing at all. Some didn’t always want to hear words of comfort or hope when they just needed to feel.

He would be there to give you whatever you needed or asked for.

“It’s okay to feel those feelings, Jamie. I get sad, too. There’s no timeline for healing or grieving. It takes as long as it takes. And we’re lucky in a way to feel things so strongly,” he told him. You were always understanding and patient on his off days. He more than lucked out by having you as his wife. “You know what your Uncle Vis says grief is? That it’s love persevering,” he added, bouncing him a bit to make him smile. It put a smile on his face, too. “And your mama has so much love to give.”

“So do you.”

Bucky looked toward the doorway where you stood. Bloodshot and puffy eyes, but with a small smile on your beautiful face. He wanted to hold you and remind you that you weren’t alone. “Hey,” he said as Jamie reached for you. “I think he wants to cheer you up.”

“Is that right? Well, I think a snuggle with my boys is just the thing I need,” you said as you took a seat beside Bucky and took Jamie into your arms. “Sorry I rushed off like that.”

“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered. He had plenty of moments where he needed to step away and compose himself when his thoughts got too loud. “We just want you to be okay,” he added, kissing your temple before Jamie grabbed your face.

“Mama no sad,” he said, forcing your cheeks up in a smile. The sight almost brought tears to Bucky’s eyes because it was so simple and heartfelt. “No sad.”

You giggled, a soft sound, before it erupted into full blown laughter. It soothed the crack he felt earlier in his heart. The room felt brighter, especially when Jamie joined in with the laughter. “Not sad, Nugget,” you assured him before you looked at your husband, love shining through like always. “Not anymore.”

The grief from your loss would come again in waves. Just like the days Bucky mourned the parts of his life he lost and couldn’t get back. Some days were harder than others, especially when regret and “what if’s” came to mind, but the important thing was that neither of you allowed yourselves to live alone or lose yourselves in grief. Not when there was so much to be thankful for.

You felt what you needed to feel. You asked for help and leaned on each other. And you carried on together.

Because what is grief, if not love persevering?

I lost more than one loved one recently and writing this helped me process some of the loss. We all need someone like Bucky. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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kentahoe · 2 months ago

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a nameless hamzah fic because i said so

srry i can’t NEVER come up with proper names for my fics. THIS PIC OF HIM MAKES ME TWEAKKK

hamzah x reader. female anatomy. friends to lovers sorta >_< .

cw: SEX idk what else to put i’ve never written smth like this before🤕 nothing out of pocket but nothing short of freaky deaky.

He was gentle, an easy smile played across his pretty lips, and his eyes were half-lidded in a way that made you feel casual. In every sense, he was someone you wanted to be around. The low hum of his voice when he told jokes, his cute teeth and calming smell.

Hamzah held himself on the couch very languidly, legs comfortably spread, leaning onto the arm rest, head tilted back ever so slightly so you could see the expanse of his neck.

Sitting up, he tilted his head towards you, smirking easily. “What? You picked this movie and suddenly you don’t like it anymore?”

Of course the one time you indulged; allowed yourself a glance, to drink in his essence next to you, of course that’s when he noticed.

“No, I just spaced out. I like it,” You turned back towards the TV, but you felt his lingering eyes on you. You almost felt like they had lasers, heat washing over you wherever they swept past on your face and body, like you had been zapped.

“What are you thinking about? You were looking right at me.” He still has that easy grin, and you feel your eye twitch in annoyance.

But could you ever really be annoyed at him?

“I don’t even remember.” Shaking your head, you chanced looking over at him, meeting his eyes.

They were deep and warm and pretty. Dark eyelashes that curled slightly, that made him even more beautiful. “I think you do.”

Simple response. Simple enough that you couldn’t come up with an answer. One flutter of his eyes and all the words were stolen from your chest. In your head, you were filing through things to say, and the longer you were quiet, the more stupid you were sure you seemed.

“I…don’t.”

Hamzah inhaled a breath, removing his hand from the side of his face where it was resting. He lifted himself with his arms, shifting in his cross-legged position to face you on the couch. It startled you a bit, because you didn’t know what he could possibly be implying. Well, you did, but there was a nervousness in your gut.

He uncrossed one leg, letting it fall over the edge of the couch, and he looked at you. With intention in his eyes. There was a goal he was working towards, but you weren’t sure what it was, if it wasn’t what you were thinking. His grey t-shirt was wrinkled a bit, and his black basketball shorts were riding up on his thighs, and you could help but exhale a breath looking at him, swallowing.

“I think you look really good,” you somehow found, straightening your back.

Hamzah’s grin grew, like he reached a new achievement. It would almost annoy you if he wasn’t so handsome. And if there wasn’t a heat boiling inside you that made the hoodie you were wearing almost unbearable. You could see his breath pick up, his chest moving.

It was almost a bit awkward, he let out a chuckle—a giggle— and your face heated up. Hamzah had inched closer to you on the couch, crossing the barrier of the cushion, and you suddenly felt a lot more nervous.

You shifted, thinking maybe you had read the situation wrong. “What? You asked.” You wanted to get defensive, blow the whole thing off and finish watching the movie so you could run away and die.

The giggle stopped, and Hamzah’s voice became very genuine, a comforting, inviting smile on his lips, that you couldn’t help but stare at as he spoke, low and intimate. “No, no. I—thank you, is what I meant.” He paused watching you, “I got nervous.” There was that giggle again.

Uncrossing your arms, you turned to face him again, lowering your voice to match his. “In a good way?” Your eyes danced across his face. Although he tried his best to hide it, the shyness creeped up his neck and seeped into his expression. It was cute.

It was hot.

“Yeah.” It was almost a whisper.

His hand had moved up to his face again, half leaning into it, and half maybe to cover his face from the nervousness he was feeling.

And suddenly you felt very brave.

You scooted towards him, wrapping your fingers gently around his wrist and lowering his hand from his face, watching as he chuckled again, leaning closer. “I think you look very good right now.”

Hamzah’s eyelids seemed to lower even more, and he hummed, his face hovering closer to yours, looking into your eyes through his lashes.

Fuck, you wanted him badly.

“You.. I—“ He started weakly.

There wasn’t enough time to process what you had done before you acted, closing the gap, pressing your lips together. You chest jumped at the feeling, and then flipped indefinitely when you realized he was kissing you back, heavily, needy. His large hand had splayed across your thigh, his other wrapping around the back of the couch as he leaned in.

Deciding after a few seconds that there wasn’t enough contact between you two, you moved your hand that was on his wrist up to his shoulder, then his neck, and the base of his jaw, guiding him to deepen the kiss, which he welcomed with fever, letting out a deep exhale through his nose. His hand became restless on your thigh, and he lazily moved it up and down, prompting you to scoot closer, where you eventually ended up on his lap.

For a moment the difference was odd, being slightly taller than him. But the way he looked up at you, god it was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. His beckoning hands shyly trailing up your sides.

You wanted to take this moment in. A moment to look at him. You laced your fingers into his curls at the back of his head, leaning down to connect your lips again, where you let out a breath into his mouth you didn’t know you were holding. It came out sounding like a whine, which he clearly didn’t expect, because there was a hesitation at your audible desire. He chanced it and licked into your mouth, which produced a real whine from you, pulling slightly at his hair.

His chest rumbled slightly with each breath, as his hands found their way under your hoodie and to your back. You pressed closer to him, wanting to be in contact with every part of him. You met his tongue with your own, finding your jaw becoming slightly sore.

Pulling back, you breathed heavily, looking at Hamzah, whose eyes were almost closed, also breathing deeply.

You sat up and ran both of your hands over his shoulders and chest from your position straddling him on the couch. Down his chest and over his stomach. You scooted back more, letting your hands roam over his thighs.

And god, they made you more wet. Squeezing them slightly in awe. They were so strong and you always found them incredibly sexy.

“Fuck Hamzah,” You breathed, and Hamzah raised his eyes from your hands on him to your face.

“Hmm?” He was smirking again, though it faltered slightly when your hands ran close to his dick.

“You’re so hot. Can I…I need to.” You let your fingers dance over his growing dick, and he jolted slightly.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, please.” It was quick, in one breath, desperate as he made eye contact with you, brows furrowed slightly.

Letting yourself caress him fully, you rubbed your flat hand over his bulge, stroking it between your pointed and middle finger, dancing all of your fingers over him.

Hamzah’s own hands were on your knees, squeezing them in reaction to your touches, his stomach flexing. You moved back more, allowing space to pull at the waistband of his basketball shorts that were probably too small, the way they hugged his ass and thighs. Pulling them down, he kicked them off and spread his legs wider, giving you access to his dick, that was growing hotter and hotter under your hand in his boxers.

His tip was sticky, and you used it when you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him up and down. Fuck, he was big. Girthy and heavy, stiff in your hand as you worked him.

The glimmer of sweat was beginning to form on Hamzah’s hairline, and he breathed heavily, still looking up at you. You used your other hand to push his hair back, leaning down to kiss him hard, trying to get more sounds out of him.

It worked, as the sensations seemed to overwhelm him, because he stopped kissing you back after a few seconds, screwing his eyes shut and groaning, leaning his head down and forward. “Fuck, shit.” He breathed, and his hips rolled up into your slick hand.

You stared at him, amazed. “Hamzah,”

You didn’t know why you said his name, maybe it was just acknowledgement in what you were seeing. Him being so pliable and good for you. “You’re so hot, holy shit.”

Even in the middle of getting his dick stroked, he managed to let out a chuckle, not quite used to your praise yet, or how much it excited him.

He was getting dangerously close before he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. “Hey, hey stop. Can I make you feel good? Please?”

You suddenly remembered your own need. The burning heat that shot straight from your stomach, inflaming your limbs and igniting your core. You didn’t have to hesitate to answer him this time. “Yes, yes.”

And you kissed him again, gentler, letting him take the lead. He did, and he grabbed your waist, and slowly laid you back onto the couch, using both his hands to hold up his weight above you as you hand your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. “I want you, so bad.”

Hamzah knelt between your legs, using his knees to spread them. “You’re so pretty. Your hair…looked really good today.”

The comment made you giggle unexpectedly, and you brushed it behind your ear. You remember dreading hanging out with Hamzah because you thought it was a particularly bad hair day for you. “Thank you, handsome. You are, you know? Really handsome.”

“I think I believe you.” Hamzah says, letting his eyes wander over your body.

You become aware of how hot you are, letting go of Hamzah to wiggle out of your hoodie, throwing it to the side. He grins, letting his hand fall to your hip, brushing his thumb over the material of your sweatpants. You kick them off shortly after, left in your underwear and sports bra. Too bad you weren’t wearing something cuter, but that did not seem to matter to Hamzah, he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous being he’s ever seen.

“You look good. Look hot.” It was a little awkward coming from his mouth, but it was so cute that it didn’t deter you one bit.

Instead you put your hands on his shoulders, grabbing his shirt. “Can you take this off for me?”

And he did without another word.

This position, felt so much more real. Hamzah was about to fuck you, and you were wanting it badly.

Hamzah leaned down to kiss you again, connecting his tongue to yours immediately, hands roaming up your waist to your bra, his fingertips slipping under the fabric. You grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand up, lifting your bra and making his hand meet your breast, to which you sighed at, the pressure of his hand feeling euphoric.

Taking your bra off fully, Hamzah pulled back to look at you. Only for a moment, though he was internal freaking out, he told himself he needed to act cool. So, he exhaled and found it in himself let his fingers wander, caressing you gently, firmly. When you let out a whine, he let out what sounded like a surprised cough, “Fuck,”

There seemed to be a lot of that, one word cursing. But it seemed to convey communication well, enough to be able to grasp each others thoughts.

You were kind of tired of it.

“Hamzah, fuck me. If you wanna.” You didn’t know another way to phrase it.

“I do, I will.” A whisper, almost sounding like a threat.

To you, it sounded like a promise.

Finding the waistband of his boxers in the dim lighting, you tugged on them weakly, and after Hamzah had pulled them off, you ran your hands over the curve of his hips and the small of his back, admiring him. God, you could do this all day, you thought, running your nails down his spine.

He shuddered for a second, looking at your underwear before repeating (maybe to himself again), “I will,” With more desperation, an airy voice that made your cunt writhe and stutter. He hooked two fingers at the bottom of the fabric by your leg, sliding them over your smooth legs, dropping them at your feet on the couch, behind him.

“Baby,” he breathed, leaning to kiss you as his hand wandered, searing your body, down your stomach and to your cunt, and the same two fingers crazed your clit, sliding up the folds in an experimental way.

Jolting under him, you lifted your hips in protest. “Hamzah,” you warned, though it came out more like a plea.

Hamzah giggled into your neck, kissing it before moving back to your lips to give them a quick peck. He wrapped a hand around his dick and stroked it a couple times, aligning it with your entrance, rubbing it through your wet folds and over your clit, you hissed out on pleasure at the contact, it was becoming unbearable to not have his dick in you right now. As soon as he started to push in, you wrapped your legs around him and squeezed, ushering him in faster.

“Okay, okay baby.” He cooed coolly, his other hand grasping at your waist for leverage to thrust in. “Ah, shit…” Once he was fully in, he didn’t have the resolve to wait, and immediately set a thorough, deep pace.

And just as quickly, you couldn’t think straight, restlessly squirming, trying to move in time with Hamzah’s thrusts, beckoning him to go faster. The stretch was mind-bending, you needed more. “Hamzah, harder. Please.”

“So polite,” he teased, and you sighed when he complied, though just as deep as before, the thrust became harder and licked the spot inside you that caused a moan to lurch from your throat.

As some form of gratitude, you kissed him, lacing your fingers back into his hair. It didn’t last long, as Hamzah’s cool demeanor was slowly melting, and his own moans seeped from his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing pleasantly when his head leant back. “You feel so fucking good,” he babbled, eyes closed, subconsciously moving faster. “So good.”

Fucked out, is what he looked like. Sweat had accumulated farther than his hairline, and upon his top lip that was glistening, occasionally wetted by his tongue that would flick out on concentration. His eyes were screwed shut, thick eyebrows furrowed.

You moved your hands from the back of his head to the top of his head, pushing his curls back that were almost covering his eyes, wanting him to look at you. “Hamzah, open.” You told him, and though it took a moment, he did, and blinked heavily at you, his brows furrowed even more, and his lips parted in a pant, that could have been mistaken for a lazy chuckle.

“Hey,” He said with faux coolness again, and you snickered.

“Keep going,” you grunted, “like that.” Moving in time with his thrusts became easy as mindless— mindless: like he made you feel about everything— and quickly you were approaching your climax, a red-hot rod shooting up your center from your cunt to your cheeks, and you new you were getting close.

The thought made you even more feverish, becoming louder and less concerned about your facial expressions. “I need—Hamzah I’m, ah—” He suddenly bit on you neck, not particularly hard, but the sensation was jarring enough, and it deployed a pang straight to your core, you squeezed around his cock desperately.

“I know, I know, baby. Come here.” Wrapping his hands around your torso and pulling you close to him as the reach of his thrusts increased, stroking your insides over and over again, and you finally teetered over the edge.

Hot magma poured from your center and oozed throughout your limbs, white heat flooding every cell, and you were trembling violently, opening your mouth in a moan and tilting you head back, to which Hamzah connected his mouth with again, letting out his own indications that he was on the brink of cumming, too.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum, I—“

“Don’t stop,” you assured when he hesitated.

You were still riding out your high when the heat inside you increased, and Hamzah’s thrust were almost animalistic, nails digging into your waist in a way that made your eyes roll back, and your insides were drowned in his cum, deep and full. Hamzah’s hands immediately traveled up to your chest again, rubbing comfortingly over your breasts, he didn’t pull out for a moment, panting, swimming in the aftershock of his orgasm. You ran your nails up and down his back again, and felt the muscles in his back relax, and he eased into you, pulling out and letting his body weight fall comfortably on top of yours.

You twirled his hair in your fingertips, slightly scratching his scalp as your breaths fell in rhythm, hearts connected, chest to chest, and each others warmth’s joining into one, sleep-inducing flame.

“You okay?” He mumbled into your neck.

“Of course,” You replied, looking down at him. “Are you?”

“I…can’t think.” He admitted sheepishly, smiling and kissing your neck.

“Can you think enough to make it to the shower, handsome?” You smiled at him.

Hamzah grew a grin on his lips. “We’ll see.” And he slowly rolled off of you, throwing his boxers on easily, picking up a blanket for you that was on the back of the couch, wrapping it around you and picking up your clothes, setting it on the couch. “After you,” he gestured in front of him, and you led your way into the bathroom.

a/n: i never know how to end these ;-; srry if it was rushed or bad, i don’t know how to properly pace a story. not much of a writer, but the lack of fics igniting smth in my lizard brain.

lmk if u see any typos bc i am NOT proofreading allat😭🙏

#hamzahthefantasticsmut #hamzahthefantastic smut #hamzah fluff #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah fic #hamzah x y/n #hamzah x reader #hamzah imagines #hamzahsmut #fanfic #writing #slushy noobz #archive of our own #ao3 #out of character.#streaming #freaky #martin and hamzah #not really

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actiniumwrites · 8 months ago

Text

kiss me (not)

synopsis: how they’d react when you dodge/ wipe off their kisses for a day as a prank

characters: gaming, kujou sara, heizou, tighnari, cyno, kaveh, and lyney x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, some humor, established relationships, etc

notes: i love this prompt so much omg. i’ve read a lot of fics other people have written for different fandoms and i’m actually shocked i haven’t written it before considering i eat it up every time (especially when there’s some angst 🫠)

gaming:

the first time he sees you wipe off his kiss, something in him dies a little, especially when you don’t say anything after he asks if you’re okay

so he starts doubting himself and compensating for where he may went wrong

maybe he had bad breath? or you weren’t having a good day today?

he hates that he doesn’t know what he did wrong, and even worse, why you keep doing it throughout the day

you only stop when you see the way he genuinely starts beating himself up over it, deciding it wasn’t funny anymore and honestly never was

“it was a prank,” you nudge him softly, regret overflowing from your voice, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. i shouldn’t have kept it going for so long.”

a relieved breathe and a small smile from him follow right after. you can tell he’s still a bit stuck on the whole thing, but deep down, he’s just grateful he didn’t screw up somewhere because there’s no way in hell gaming would ever let himself lose you

“it’s okay,” he breathes out, clutching your hand a little tighter than usual, “just please, don’t do it again, okay?”

kujou sara:

to say she’s confused is an understatement

she’ll immediately backtrack to make sure she actually just saw that correctly. did you really just wipe off her kiss?

so she goes in for another one, and sure enough, you dodge her this time and send her a quick goodbye before slipping out of the house and running off to work

it legitimately ruins her whole day. she can’t even function at work because it’s all she can think about

and by the time she’s home at night, she’s already tired and just wants you but she’s also too afraid that maybe she did something to upset you

fortunately for her, you spare her of the prank knowing your girlfriend well enough to know that the second she walks through the door she had a shitty day

so you apologize and tell her it was just a prank and you didn’t mean any harm

and she wants to be so mad at you for it, but literally can’t no matter how hard she tries so instead she just gives in and gets the kiss she’s been thinking about all day

heizou:

he realizes right away what you’re doing and finds it rather amusing

so he’ll play along too, not trying to kiss you at all and even going a step further and not showing you any sort of physical attention

try to hold his hand? not happening. hugging him? not a chance

and it ends up becoming a competition, because what can you say? you’re both competitive people

goes on until the end of the day and only ends when you’re both too tired to keep it up

“you’re no fun, you know?” you poke his chest as you tiredly lean against him

he smiles down at you, “how so? i let you play your little pranks, didn’t i? i even played along.”

you just scoff and scoot away, tucking yourself into the warm blankets and ignoring his teasing

but then he’ll grab you and pull you into his chest, giving into you, “fine. next time i’ll give you the reaction you want. happy now?”

tighnari:

the opposite of heizou: he’s very unamused, and is very aware of what’s going on.

as soon as you back away from him after he tries to kiss you, his face falls into a deadpan and he crosses his arms menacingly

“i’ll have you know i don’t find pranks like these very funny,” he’ll immediately tell you off, not wanting to act so childishly when it comes to affection

tighnari cares a lot about people, whether he shows it or not, so to have you pretend to dodge it upsets him — even if it is meant to be a mere lighthearted prank

so you apologize instantly, feeling a little bad over the whole ordeal, “it’s just a prank, you know? i thought it would be funny to see how you’d react.”

definitely the kind of person to feel a little bashful and guilty for overreacting over something so silly, but also doesn’t want to admit it

so he’ll just silently kiss you and act like nothing happened, secretly hoping you’ll never try to pull something like that again

cyno:

at first, he thinks it’s kinda funny since he always plays jokes. however, i think he’s similar to tighnari in the sense that he also takes a little offense to it

like, he knows it’s a joke, but he just can’t help feeling a little hurt over it

“is something the matter?” he’ll ask while you’re both on the way to meet with friends. you shake your head no, fighting a smile

defeatedly, he leaves it at that, knowing you won’t budge. he’ll feel miserable the entire time and won’t stop thinking about how you won’t give the prank up, even in front of your friends

and when you both leave for the night, he crosses his arms and confronts you as you both walk home, “it isn’t funny.”

“what isn’t funny?”

“your prank. it isn’t funny. i don’t like the way you’re avoiding kissing me,” he says bluntly. it makes your heart sink into your stomach a bit, admittedly starting to feel a bit bad

so you apologize and work everything out, telling him you got the idea from alhaitham who was curious to see how he’d react in a situation like that — that, and he felt like pissing cyno off for a day, but you didn’t need to know that part

he’ll get frustrated, but is glad it’s all settled. he’ll also be extra affectionate throughout the next week, feeling as if he somehow lost time with you

kaveh:

gets so offended omg he will literally hate you

the first time you do it, his jaw drops to the floor and he calls you out on it immediately

“what was that?” he points an accusatory finger at you

you bite back a smile and feign innocence, “huh? what are you talking about?”

will not let you leave for the day until you drop the act and properly return his kiss

when you continue to go on with the prank, however, he’ll start to get all pouty and just ask you to kiss him

and he just looks so cute that you cup his face and give him a big fat kiss and walk out the door immediately after without a word and a big smile on your face, satisfied with his reaction

lyney:

he gets so dramatic about it it’s not even funny

will literally clutch his chest and fall to the ground in public so that you stop him

when you don’t and you let him face public humiliation (because you find it funny too), he stops himself and gets back up

follows you around like a lost puppy all day and will constantly try to sneak in a kiss while you’re caught of guard, but you never fall for it and he gets so much more frustrated each and every time

then he begs lynette and freminet to help him, except they think it’s funny too seeing how whipped he is for you

and he knows it’s a prank too, but the fact that you won’t break makes him so lovingly annoyed with you

you don’t stop until lynette genuinely intervenes, complaining about how annoying lyney had gotten throughout the day, “please end his suffering already. you know my brother is an idiot who doesn’t shut up and i’ve had enough of him today.”

you laugh it off, but ultimately agree

so you go and find him, which wasn’t that hard, and tap him on the shoulder before planting a gentle kiss to his lips, “sorry for pranking you. it was just too funny of an opportunity to pass up.”

“you’re so mean to me,” he’ll complain, but will then continue to kiss you so often that you’re now the annoyed one instead

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #gaming x reader #gaming x you #kujou sara x reader #kujou sara x you #heizou x reader #heizou x you #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #cyno x reader #cyno x you #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you

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waldau-archived · 4 months ago

Note

congrats on your new milestone!! i really enjoy reading your work♡ could i please request mingyu+'we're in completely different leagues'+'i'm not sober enough to talk about this'

just the two of us — kim mingyu | 7,009 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

i typed up a mammoth sized story (to me, at least) because i had so many thoughts. behold my longest fic ever written, patiently beta-read by the wonderful @tomodachiii. thank you for your help, tomo! ily <3 and thank you, anon, for your request!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader has massive self-doubt, gets drunk halfway through the story.

“the next time i even think of going on a date, just take my phone and force me to go out on a walk. reconnect with nature. touch some grass, maybe,” you say, kicking your feet against mingyu’s cupboard from where you’re sat on his counter.

“did you have a bad date i wasn’t aware of? was it the guy with the blue streaks?” mingyu asks, pushing the bowl of cake batter towards you. he never shies away from reminding you of the repercussions of having raw dough — that too in excruciating detail. salmonella. e. coli. things he could skip but doesn’t, just because he likes annoying you.

he lets it slide this time. you’re allowed just one big spoon, and the next time you’ll see the rest of it is when it’s baked and topped off with handmade frosting. courtesy of kim mingyu. your best friend as well as part-time chef.

“…no.”

“don’t lie to me,” he says, tilting his head. “you wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise.”

“ugh. it’s just that…every time i even think of going out on a date, i have to reset my expectations. because men can’t clear the bar, no matter how low it is.”

you take a nibble from the spoon, and it tastes so damn good. it’s crazy how mingyu manages to find time to make new recipes and perfect them despite being a world-famous model that’s modelled for almost every major fashion house. you’ve lost count of how many magazines he’s been on.

it started out as a joke when you complained about all the magazines for his first ever gig having sold out. he’d taken it upon himself to get you a very special, signed copy that you have on display with the rest of the books in your glass bookcase. just the one, though. the rest of them are all piled up under your coffee table, much to mingyu’s chagrin. at least they’re in chronological order. and you’re making sure they’re not collecting dust.

that first edition is pretty much the only thing mingyu ever teases you about, tattered as it is, and on display for whoever comes to visit you. but you’d never get rid of it, not even for a new copy. it’s a milestone mingyu deserves to be celebrated for.

“does it taste good?” he asks with a small smile and a nervous smile. as if you’d have anything except praises to heap on him. this isn’t even the first time you wonder if he’d talk like this to you if you were together — endless smiles and warm cuddles under the covers and conversations about the most random things and stolen hoodies because you’re actually dating, and not just you being a guilty friend whose imagination runs a bit wild sometimes.

he does all of those with you. but he just doesn’t like you the way you like him.

how would he be, when he’s the kim mingyu? he has his fans falling to their feet if he so much as posts a picture of his hand. he’s the most charming human being you know. he’s tall not just because of his genes but also because of all the love he holds for everyone he knows.

you’re another moon that gets to orbit in the path of the admirable planet that he is.

sometimes you don’t even know how you managed to remain friends with him after university ended. the two of you started off as being part of the same friend group, having a few shared classes and some interests that kept the two of you together apart from your friends. by the time you graduated, both of you knew enough about each other to be able to hang out without needing your mutual friends. and it was hardly your fault that you felt drawn to how warm mingyu was, how easy it was to talk to him, and how happy you felt just by being around him.

so when it came to the topic of finding a place to live, the two of you decided it would be better for you to be roommates than find a complete stranger to share a living space with, and you went from friends to best friends soon after that.

mingyu’s always been your support system for whatever you’ve wanted to do, encouraging you to do what you wanted, regardless of how it would turn out or what others would think of it. in the same way, it wasn’t anything when you encouraged him to try out a modelling gig he’d signed up for and was unsure of how he’d fare.

long story short, the shoot was a pretty good success, and soon enough he got multiple gigs, managed to earn enough money to move into a bigger house, and even offered to pay your part of the rent because he wanted you to live with him — something that made you smack him.

you no longer live together now, mainly because of mingyu’s insistence on not wanting to disturb your sleep and your daily routine with all the schedules that keep him flying over the world. you did miss the breakfast he’d make for the two you every morning, and you’d managed to work out a compromise where mingyu became your personal chef on saturdays just so he’d have some time to spend with you.

it’s far from the worst arrangement in the world, and moments like these — him putting icing on your nose — make you realize how lucky you are to have him. you generally watch movies together, or he teaches you recipes, or he listens to you talk about your life, reciprocating with his own stories. things haven’t changed that much, even though you don’t live together anymore.

but part of you wishes things did change. that mingyu would, just once, look at you the way you look at him. it’s a wonder he hasn’t once caught you staring at him, because you’ve done that more times than you can count. but you can’t help it, because he just so happens to be your whole world.

but how long is this utopia going to last for? when is he going to realize you’re just plain old you, and that maybe he’s suited for more glamorous company? people who can probably pronounce the names of all his fashion houses correctly, people he models with, people that can hang off his arm and look like they belong there? not people who like wearing shorts and an old shirt as pyjamas and have bouts of self-doubt strong enough to crush entire mountains?

“…is it that good? you zoned out a bit there,” mingyu says, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes.

you blink out of your daydreams. it’s not even his fault that you’re so head over heels for him, although it kind of is. no one asked him to be so good looking and polite and so damn lovely that it became easy to imagine a future with him. just like lee youngji can imagine having a future with hong jisoo because he opened a carton of milk for her, you wonder how you haven’t yet succumbed to those thoughts when mingyu is such a big part of your life. you wonder at what point you knew you were fucked.

maybe it was when you and mingyu became friends, although you’ll never know for sure.

“no.”

“are you sure?”

“your ego doesn’t need to get any bigger,” you quip, finishing off the rest of your spoon.

he just laughs. “good to know. let’s just wait for an hour till it finishes baking, okay?” he hands you a baking sheet to line the pan with. you work in silence as he fiddles with the knobs on the oven, ladling out the batter into the pan and sticking it inside once the oven’s warmed up enough.

“want to do something while it bakes? watch a movie?”

“i was thinking we could go for a walk,” mingyu says, taking off his apron. he looks ridiculous, a hulking six foot two man wearing an apron that’s comically small for him, but he takes kitchen etiquette very safely. he hangs it up on the hook behind the door. “the weather’s good, and i don’t think i’ve been out for a walk in a while.”

“what about all those texts you sent me about missing bobpul? i wonder what your fans would’ve thought of that.”

“you’re not supposed to bring that up,” he whines, and you can’t help the giggle that makes its way to your face. he’s a grown man. and he’s the most adorable one you know. “that was a moment of weakness.”

“and you trusted me with it.”

“because i trust you.”

“i…fine,” you sigh, because what can you really say to that? “it’s cute, that’s all.”

mingyu wiggles his eyebrows. “you think i’m cute?”

“i swear—”

“kidding!” he walks you out of the kitchen, hands on your shoulders, and you love it as much as you wish he didn’t do it. “we’ll be back within the hour. the cake should be ready by then.”

he hands you one of his hoodies that’s lying on the sofa before you head out. you look up at him when he presses the fabric into your hands.

“it’s cold,” he explains, but it’s muffled by the messy way he’s pulling his hoodie over his head.

“and i can deal with the cold just fine.”

“no, you’re going to stick your cold toes on my legs when we sit down to eat, and i’m not going to bear that. even if you’re my best friend.”

and no matter what excuse you make to avoid wearing mingyu’s clothes, it’s never enough. he has to see you bundled up to make sure you’re not going to freeze in front of him, although that’s a tad bit dramatic. this is one of his newer hoodies, and you can tell by the way it doesn’t smell like him just yet. maybe it’s a good thing. maybe you can stop thinking about him like that. one step at a time.

“some best friend you are,” you mumble, wearing your shoes. you look up and mingyu’s frowning at you. not the usual way; there’s a tiny frown that would’ve been imperceptible if you didn’t know him the way you do, but you’re not going to ask what’s up. he tells you things if they’re really bothering him, so you’re going to let him let you know in his own time.

he wasn’t wrong. it really is windy. you’re glad he made you wear the hoodie. you pull the sweater paws over your palms, loving the way your palms instantly become warm. mingyu flips the hood over your head and you’re about to thank him for it before he draws the strings together and ends up blacking out your vision. he finds it funny for about two seconds till you stumble blindly and end up jostling him in the stomach.

he's still wincing when you undo the strings, and you can’t help but laugh. “sorry, gyu.”

“are you, though?”

“…no.”

“thought so.”

“was it my fault?”

“no,” he says, and smiles, and you feel your heart flutter again. “not your fault.” it’s so pretty. even his smile’s so pretty. you love his canines, his little fangs that he feels weird about sometimes. if it were up to you, you’d do anything to make him love them just as much as you did, even if that something were kissing.

whoa. not again. not when he’s with you.

“so, about failed dates,” he says, looking at you. “are you actually looking for something, or do you just…go on them to pass your time?”

mingyu does this thing where he can read you to filth without even trying. it’s like he knows what’s running in your mind, or at least has the vaguest idea of it, and he says things that are basically truths you don’t want to admit to yourself out of fear of not knowing what to do about them.

“why does it matter?” you ask, a bit defensive.

he frowns. again, that little frown. you wish you could remove it. “because there’s so many other things you could be doing to spend time instead of creeping yourself out every time you go on a date. and you don’t need to keep getting yourself hurt like that if it isn’t leading to anything.”

“are you dating someone?”

mingyu pffts. “what, i can’t have advice for you without being in a relationship?”

“no,” you say immediately, backtracking. of course he can. “sorry. i know you didn’t mean anything by it, but…”

“but?”

“i just wish i—”

you’re cut off by the sudden bark of a dog. you look around to find the source of the sound only to see a dog running around in circles with its leash in its mouth. it looks adorable.

“hey, buddy,” you say, crouching down in front of it. it looks up at you and barks. a happy little yip! before it continues running along in circles.

“are you lost?” mingyu asks softly, crouching down next to you. he reaches out a hand to pet its head, and the puppy leans into his touch completely. it looks familiar for some reason.

“do you have any idea whose dog this is?” mingyu asks. you shake your head. maybe you’ve seen a dog like this, not the dog itself, but you’re really not sure. he’s in the process of searching the dog’s collar, but someone yelling in the distance makes him pause. he gets up and tugs the dog by its collar. it has the name tag jamie inscribed on it.

the person yelling out for jamie is none other than one of your neighbours. you know her well. as well as you can for someone you don’t interact much with. not if you can help it.

she’s the kind of neighbour that always pokes her nose into matters that don’t bother her, the neighbour that outright shows she’s not interested in something if it doesn’t get her anything. the two times you tried to initiate a conversation with her as you waited for the elevator to reach your floor are a stark reminder of the fact that she’s not the kind of person you’d ever be friends with. you don’t know what you’ve done to rub her the wrong way, but she doesn’t look like she’ll even give you a chance.

you watch as mingyu hands over the dog to her, and once she’s done making sure jamie’s okay, she looks him up and down.

you don’t blame her. you’d do the same, a bit more subtly, but it does sting to see the way she’s probably the kind of person he should be hanging out with.

“thanks for finding jamie,” she says, all smiles. she really doesn’t need to be smiling that much.

“no worries,” mingyu says with a smile of his own. “and it wasn’t me who found jamie, by the way. it was them.” he points to you with a jerk of his thumb. you smile at her, but feel icy inside when she looks you up ad down.

“oh. are they your…” she trails off with a smile on her face that screams no fucking way. you suddenly wish you could just run back to your apartment and leave the two of them down here.

“partner? you think so?”

“just…you two look like opposites, that’s all. sometimes opposites don’t attract, but you never know. life’s funny sometimes.” she simpers a little, and your hands ball up into fists by your side.

what you don’t expect is for mingyu to throw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into himself. “yes, actually,” he says, leaning into you in a way that most definitely exaggerates your height difference. “you could call them my better half. and don’t they look good in this hoodie? it’s mine, by the way,” he says, and you can recognize the smile on his face — it’s a fake one, the corporate one he adopts when he’s in a situation he doesn’t like.

his words keep buzzing in your mind as you walk past your neighbour and back upstairs to your apartment. he’d said you were a couple so easily, even though you were not. better half? really? the way he’d leaned into you so easily, the fact that he told her it was his hoodie. it’s…weird. and too much for you.

you don’t speak much as you help mingyu remove the cake from the oven, getting it ready for frosting. he manages to get an indignant sound when he manages to get some on your cheek this time, but the rest of the evening is spent thinking about the interaction you had.

is it really so unbelievable for people to imagine the two of you together?

“hey,” he says, bumping your side with his. except he miscalculates his strength (or does it on purpose) and ends up making you stumble a few steps away from him. you don’t even have it in you to be mad when you see the giggle on his face. “you good?”

“yes. sorry,” you say, opening the refrigerator to take out the food mingyu had made last night. he cooks enough to feed a family of four even though you’re the only one that lives at your place, so it’s useful for when you don’t feel like cooking.

“who was she?” mingyu asks, setting down the plates on the table. “a friend?”

you shudder at the thought of her being your friend. “a neighbour. she lives in the flat down mine. she’s not really the kind of person i’d be friends with, but jamie’s cute. i keep seeing him around sometimes.”

“hmm.” you get the smell of reheated noodles as mingyu works at the stove. “she was…weird.”

“that’s an understatement.”

“is she always like that?”

“rude?”

“yeah. that’s not something you’d say to a couple you see, even if you don’t like them.”

“she certainly doesn’t seem to care,” you say, a bit more forceful than necessary, setting down two glasses as well.

“well, i think we’d make a cute couple,” mingyu says, a little smile on his face as he reaches out to ruffle your hair.

you swear your heart dies a little right then and there. you stare at him unblinkingly. “do you ever hear the stuff that comes out of your mouth?” you ask, regaining your bearings and filling the glasses with water.

“sorry,” mingyu says, sheepishly. “i just don’t like the idea of anyone talking like that. especially with you. especially when you’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

your heart warms at that. “thank you, gyu,” you say, reaching out to squeeze his arm. bad idea. you’d forgotten how much he’s been working out recently, and how big he is. “i’m glad i could one-up her this time.”

“just call me the next time you want to do it again.”

“yeah, sure.”

the rest of the night is spent watching this show that’s been on your watchlist for a while, and you don’t mind if mingyu conks out in the middle of it.

sure enough, you hear his soft snores after you finish your dessert, and you turn to see this big man that’s also your best friend craning his neck on the sofa as he tries to keep himself in the blanket that’s certainly not big enough for the two of you.

sometimes you wonder if he’d cuddle with you to save space and keep himself warm, and this also happens to be one of those times. You get up and reposition him as gently as you can, so that his back doesn’t hurt in the morning. His nose twitches when you rest a hand on his hair, wishing him a silent goodnight.

It's not the first time you wish you could kiss him, dangerous as that thought is.

you can’t stop thinking about the interaction you had a few days ago. sure, your neighbour isn’t someone whose behaviour you’d count on to matter, but was she right when she said she can’t see two people like you together? people as opposite to each other as you and mingyu?

sure, you’re not the usual kind of crowd he hangs out with, but is it so bad to imagine something between the two of you? was that just the sign to stop thinking about mingyu, get over him and resign yourself to a life without love?

as much as you complain about going on dates, there’s something that’s your fault too — you look for mingyu everywhere. none of the men you’ve gone on dates with are mingyu, and that’s the crux of the problem. none of them smile the way he does, none of them give you their jacket when you’re feeling cold, and it’s unfair for you to expect them to understand everything about you.

you can’t have mingyu, and you’re going to have to learn to accept that.

Which is why you’re at this party with your friend seungkwan. it’s not your usual scene — you’d much rather be curled up in bed with a book and some takeout, or cleaning your bookshelf while listening to music on the television — but you’re not complaining. seungkwan was right. you need to let go once in a while, just enjoy yourself before you inevitably spend weeks together keeping to yourself, immersed in your work.

“dance with me!” seungkwan yells out to you over the din of the crowd.

“i can’t dance! not like you!”

“that hardly matters! let’s have some fun, come on!”

seungkwan is nothing if not persistent. finishing off the last of the drink, you let him lead you out onto the dance floor. he rests his hands on your shoulders as he sways you to the music. it’s fast paced and something you’d be caught doing in the privacy of your own house, your own little concert, and for once you don’t care about the fact that people can see you. you’re lost in your own little world with seungkwan, and more importantly, you’re happy. the stress of whatever the fuck happened last week between you and mingyu, with him calling himself your boyfriend without knowing how down bad you are for him, is pushed to the back of your mind as the beat changes. seungkwan starts clapping to the rhythm, making you realize you’re dancing by yourself.

you’re not half bad at this. a little under confident, sure, but not bad. you could try making this a monthly thing and having fun with it.

eventually you end up too exhausted to dance to another song, and seungkwan guides you to a seat, your shoes in his hand as he asks you to catch your breath and wait for a while more till he finishes dancing with some other people.

you’ve ordered a basic drink for yourself when someone slides in next to you. you don’t pay them much attention, focusing on relaxing a bit and finishing your drink, but you have to turn around and look at them when you can actually feel their eyes piercing into your side and— boy, is he a sight for sore eyes.

he looks boyishly handsome, completely in place in this club as he watches you with his chin resting in his hand, eyes glinting in the light of the fixture above the two of you. he’s pretty, and just as handsome, and his eyes are the loveliest shade of brown you’ve ever seen.

“saw you dancing out there,” he says, his words a bit of a drawl, and accented. “you were pretty good.”

“you don’t need to lie if you’re trying to flirt,” you jest, finishing your drink.

“i’m not in the habit of lying,” he says, smiling at you. “you looked like you were having fun.”

“i…was, actually,” you say. he’s still smiling, looking at you like he’s searching for something in your eyes. you feel warm. gosh.

“can i get you another drink?”

“no, thank you, actually. i need my head to remain intact if i want to get home in one piece.”

“suit yourself,” he nods, and asks the bartender for the same drink you had. the bar is in hell, but you’re impressed he backed off immediately. you watch as he makes quick work of his drink.

“so, you come here often?” he asks, wiping the back of his mouth.

“not really. my friend dragged me out tonight because he felt i needed a break from my life.”

“just a friend?” he asks, eyes following your line of vision to see seungkwan still dancing with some strangers, looking like he’s having fun.

“why, you interested?”

“depends on who you’re talking about.”

“him?”

“cute, but no.”

“me.”

“maybe.”

you trace the ring of condensation your drink’s left on the table. “but i’m not looking for anything, honestly. i’ve sworn off dating for a while.”

“that’s fine. we could just…talk.”

you look up at the man. you don’t know if this is his way of trying to get you to go home with him, but it’s the most genuine someone’s been. “you never told me your name, by the way.”

“me? vernon. nice to meet you.”

you give him your name in return, and like the way it rolls off his tongue.

“so…can i ask why you’ve sworn off dating?”

seungkwan’s still going to take a while, going by the previous times you’ve been here, and vernon definitely seems interested in talking to you.

“you ever…had a crush on your best friend?”

vernon winces — an actual wince, like he’s seen something terrible, and it makes you laugh. “yeah…once. it sucks.”

“exactly.”

“you’re trying to get over them?”

“trying being the keyword, yes.”

“then how are you trying to get over them if you’re not into dating?”

you sigh. vernon’s a perceptive one. “trying to think of other people even if i don’t necessarily go home with them. just anything to get my mind off him.”

“anything? how bored would you be if i started talking about why i think star wars is excessive but also misunderstood?”

you don’t find vernon boring, in fact. you find yourself drawn to him speaking, the way his eyes light up and his hands get a life of their own as he lists out every single point in aid of his stance, and encourages you to contribute to the conversation. it feels like he’s an old friend, and not someone you met hardly an hour ago. it’s fun.

“…so maybe we could go out to watch that movie? it’s coming out next week.”

“go out?”

“as friends, of course. i’m not looking to take someone home, either. if anything, i came here to keep my friends company, but…i think i lost them in the crowd.”

you look around, and seungkwan’s sitting at a table surrounded by a bunch of girls, and it makes you grin. he doesn’t need you sticking with him anymore.

“you were saying?”

“does next week work—”

“it doesn’t,” says a new voice. a familiar voice. there’s two hands on your shoulders, a familiar weight. “we’re hanging out at my place next week.”

“mingyu!�� you exclaim, pulling him out from behind you. “don’t scare me like that.”

“sorry,” he says, not sounding the least bit sorry. “you have no idea how much time i spent searching for you only to find you hidden here.”

“why were you looking for me? how did you know i was here?”

he looks at you like you asked him something stupid. “because it’s late, and because seungkwan’s most definitely not driving you home.” ah. seungkwan must have asked mingyu to pick you up, given that he was your ride here.

“well,” you say, directing him towards your conversational partner. “this is vernon. my new friend.”

“hi,” he says, curt, and you frown. mingyu’s generally nicer.

“hey,” vernon says coolly. then he turns back to you. “can you give me your number? i’ll text you about it later, when you’re free. think i’ll search for them now.”

you hand vernon your own phone, given he’s had less drinks than you have, and it hardly takes a minute for him to enter his details before he saves his number and claps your shoulder, wishing you and mingyu a good night.

you find mingyu watching vernon making his way through the crowd. “so, who was that?”

“new friend. vernon. like i said.”

“a new friend? seriously? he just asked for your number.”

“so? he wasn’t hitting on me or anything. he just asked me so we could go see this movie we’ve been wanting to watch.”

mingyu’s eyebrows rise. “a movie? together? doesn’t that sound like…a date?”

you frown. “two friends can go watch movies, mingyu. don’t we do that all the time?”

“Yeah, but that’s because you know me. he’s just some random guy you met today. at a club.”

either mingyu’s being obtuse, or you’re not thinking correctly. “are you saying i don’t know how to read people’s intentions?”

“you’re drunk,” he says bluntly, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders. “you don’t know what he wants.”

something about his tone makes you angry. he wasn’t even here the whole evening. “as if you do. you didn’t speak to him at all, mingyu. you don’t even know what we talked about.”

“didn’t you say you wanted to stop going out on dates?”

the coldness in his voice makes you freeze. you’ve never heard him sound so hostile, not with you. “what do you mean?”

“why did i have to find out from seungkwan that you were out here at this club just a week after you asked me to make you touch grass if you so much as thought of a date?”

“but it wasn’t a date!” you exclaim, feeling more and more annoyed. to your horror, you feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “are you saying i’m—”

“you’re drunk. you don’t know what you want. did you seriously expect to make friends at the club of all places?”

this isn’t your mingyu. he’d never judge you the way he’s doing right now. you take his jacket and throw it on the counter, turning around and marching out. you’ll call a cab to take you to your place. you don’t need him dropping you home.

“hey,” mingyu calls out, jogging towards you, jacket in his hand. “it’s cold. take this, please?”

“i don’t care about what you have to say,” you sniff, wrapping your hands around yourself. “don’t talk to me.”

“listen, you can be angry with me all you want, but just take my jacket. i don’t want you freezing out here when you don’t need to be.”

“maybe you should’ve thought of that before saying all that shit to me,” you spit. “why do you want to talk to me now? just insult me some more, why don’t you?”

mingyu huffs, but says nothing. he just looks at you.

“come with me.”

“where?”

“to my car.”

“why should i?”

“i won’t leave you here by yourself. i want to make sure you’re safe. let me drop you home and you can be mad at me all you want. please.”

“what, your night’s going to be a waste unless i come with you?”

“no,” he says quietly, and it makes you pause. mingyu is anything but quiet. “It’s never a waste. but it’ll just put my mind at ease if i know you’re safe, okay?”

you see the logic in his words, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. “fine,” you say, taking his jacket from him and slipping it on.

“thank you,” he says, opening the passenger door for you.

the drive to your place is quiet. you can tell mingyu wants to say something, start a conversation, but you keep your eyes resolutely fixed ahead.

“come on,” he says, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out when you reach your building. you follow him upstairs to your apartment. he unlocks the door for you and makes way for you to step inside first.

“do you need water? food? anything i can get?” he asks, taking off his shoes.

you turn around to look at him. he’s big, as always, but for once it feels like he’s taking up all the space in your apartment.

“i’m not that drunk,” you say finally.

he stands up straight to look at you. “but—”

“yes, i had some drinks, but i know my limit. i had my last one just before i started talking to vernon. i hate that you thought i wasn’t capable of making my own decisions.”

he swallows. “i didn’t mean to undermine—”

“but you did! and you don’t know how terrible it feels. i’m not a baby, gyu. i know what i want and what i’m doing. i’m hurt. and,” you say, taking in a deep breath, “if you really want to know something, know this — we’re in completely different leagues.”

mingyu frowns. “what do you mean?”

“i—” there’s so much you mean. you can’t possibly recount all the thoughts you’ve had about feeling inadequate, all the nights you’ve spent wondering how long it’ll be before he realizes you’re not as cool as you should be. “i’m not sober enough to talk about this.”

“you just said you weren’t that drunk.”

“this is my home,” you say, a bit harsher than needed. “you got me here safe, and that’s all you wanted to do. this is me being mad at you, so if you respect me, you’re going to let me sleep. okay? goodnight, mingyu.”

“goodnight,” he says, and you hate how small his voice sounds. “sleep well.”

and you do sleep well. well enough that you sleep through your alarm, and wake up almost when it’s ten. at least it’s a saturday, so you’re not freaking out as you brush your teeth. you have some work to do today. and hanging out with mingyu is on the agenda as well, but you’re not sure if you’re keen on going through with it, especially after what happened last night.

if you were delusional, which you’re most definitely not, you’d say that mingyu had been jealous that you and vernon had exchanged numbers in front of him. except there’s no reason for him to be jealous. like he reminded you, you’re not looking for any relationships. there’s no one he has to compete with, so to speak.

so why was he that upset last night? and what about the things he’d said to you?

you’ve had fights before, fights that ended up with both of you not wanting to speak to each other, but this was different. he’d never been angry like this.

you’re the one who’s upset, you realize, as you walk to the kitchen to fix yourself some breakfast. you’re going to talk it out with mingyu once your head is clearer, and you’re going to see what he has to say for himself.

except mingyu’s already here. you can smell the delicious scent of tteokbokki wafting through the room. mingyu’s set out two plates, two glasses — the usual. you’re feeling woefully under dressed in front of him in your pyjamas, despite the fact that he’s seen you like this multiple times before.

“morning,” he says. his voice is hesitant. It’s never hesitant.

“hi. morning.”

“slept well?”

“yeah, better than…what exactly are you doing here?”

“cooking you breakfast,” he says, waving his spatula around.

“i can see that. i meant here. in my place. didn’t you go back home after dropping me off?”

“no. i felt too tired to drive back home, so i decided to crash out on your couch. and i’m making you breakfast now. isn’t that a win-win?”

you can see one win, but you’re not sure what the other is. you take a seat at the table and pour yourself a glass of water, wearily trying to assess the situation. mingyu had pretty much scolded you last night. like a parent who didn’t trust you to make the right choices despite having free will. and now he’s cooking you breakfast like last night just didn’t happen.

“can i ask you something?” mingyu says, pushing a plate of tteokbokki towards you along with a pair of chopsticks.

“don’t think i can stop you, can i?”

mingyu huffs. “hey. if you’re upset with me, just say no.”

“what is it?”

“what did you mean by yourself being out of my league?”

you set your chopsticks down. “you’re serious? you’re really asking me that?”

he frowns. “yes.”

“mingyu, you called yourself my boyfriend a week back. your…better half.”

“that was to make your neighbour leave. she was being weird.”

“sure. and then we went back to life like nothing had even happened.”

“because…it hadn’t? i thought we talked it out that night itself? what happened now?”

“i don’t think you understand how that made me feel. especially when you said—” you say, voice trembling. “you called yourself my boyfriend last week. like it’s something you throw around naturally. and last night you acted all…weird, as if i wasn’t allowed to have a normal conversation with someone who wasn’t you. why are you so confusing?”

“would you hear me out if i said i had a reason?”

“you’d better have a damn good reason.”

mingyu sets down his glass and looks at you. “i’m sorry for everything i said yesterday. i truly am. i didn’t mean any of it. i was just…jealous.”

that catches your attention. “jealous? of?”

“that guy. vernon. you seemed like you were having a good time talking to him and i thought about how if you got together you’d probably leave our relationship behind because you liked him so much.”

“whoa. slow down. i told you i wasn’t looking—”

“you weren’t. i know that. but the way you looked at him made me feel something.”

“what?”

“i’m saying…” mingyu takes in a deep breath, and focuses on something past your shoulder. not meeting your eyes. “i’m saying i like you.”

you blink. “i’m sorry?”

“i like you, and i was jealous because you seemed to be having so much fun talking to him. if you have to know, there’s no guy who possibly deserves you. i’m not saying i do, either, but i’ll try my best to be the guy you deserve.”

it’s still too early in the day for this. “stop joking, mingyu. i don’t want to go through it again. just—”

“i’m not!” he exclaims, coming over to your side of the table. “thinking i could be with anyone i wanted is a bold thing to say. how do you think i feel every time i go out for company dinners but all i want to do is spend time with you? have you as my plus one every time?”

your heart’s fluttering very fast. you feel almost breathless. “i wouldn’t even look that good by your side.”

“says you. have you ever seen yourself?”

“i have, actually, and i look—”

“so gorgeous,” mingyu cuts you off, eyes twinkling as he says so. as though he’d been holding onto it for so long and finally found the right time to release it. “you look exactly like the person i want to spend every single day of my life with.”

you almost expect cameras to pop up out of nowhere and film your reaction to what he’s just said. “the…rest of your life? you do know that’s…a long time, right?”

“i do. and i’ve already spent four years with you. eight, if you’re counting the time before we became best friends.”

it’s everything you’ve ever wanted to hear. what he’s offering is so close to you, just an arm’s length away, but you can’t convince yourself to reach out for it. you hide your face in your hands. “gyu…”

“i’m serious,” he says, gently peeling your hands from your face. his hands are so warm as he holds yours, and his boba eyes are so close to yours. he’s adorable. “give me one chance?”

“what if we…mess this up? what if you realize i’m not that fun to hang out with every single day?”

“what if you realize everything you're thinking is wrong? what if you realize there’s no way i’m going to let things go wrong, especially when it comes to you?”

you don’t know what to say. you don’t know what the future holds in store, and you have no answers to your questions just like you don’t have answers to his.

“i know you think…not so greatly of yourself sometimes,” mingyu says, squeezing your hands. “and i want to be here to tell you that everything you think in that regard is wrong. i like you because you’re you. why do you think you’re the only one who’s been my best friend for so long? you’re the only one i can be myself around completely. tell me you know that.”

“i…didn’t know that.”

“then i clearly didn’t do a very good job at being your best friend. maybe i can fix that now.”

now. now that mingyu likes you. now that you have the chance to see your relationship blossom into something more.

“you’re not even going to ask me if i like you?”

a slow blush spreads across mingyu’s face. “shit, sorry. um, do you…like me?”

“of course i like you, gyu,” you smile, feeling giddy at the way he gets redder.

“good. can i, um, be your boyfriend, then? would you like that?”

“you’re not taking me out on a date first?”

mingyu’s eyes shine and he leans in till his nose is inches away from yours. “hi,” he whispers, and you actually whimper when his lips brush yours the slightest bit. embarrassing. mingyu doesn’t seem to mind, though.

“g-good morning, gyu.”

“the best, actually. even better if you let me take you out on a date today.”

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