#okay i forgot the bonus but i hope this is still okay and not too boring

[neowinestainedress]

HITS DIFFERENT | L.DH

TITLE: hits different

PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader | mc’s best friend johnny, haechan’s roommate mark (+ kinda emotional support boy when mc acts like a loser)

GENRE: non-idol au, strangers to friends with benefits to lovers, getting together, smut, angst, fluff | requested | bonus part

SUMMARY: nobody ever got under your skin, not until Haechan came in your life and changed everything. 

WARNINGS: smut, protected and unprotected sex (condom first and then mc is on the pill), multiple sex scenes, oral sex, fingering, car sex, riding, fingers sucking, face sitting, rimming, anal, mirror sex, a bit of exhibitionism (as a fantasy), praise, teasing (as in degradation but it’s not hard stuff), handjob, morning sex, kitchen sex, toys (vibrator), overstimulation, (no bdsm but) switchy dynamics, sa doesn’t happen but there are a few references to pushy behaviours, mentions of a past car accident and death of a barely mentioned character | I hope I didn’t forget anything but if I did, let me know! | kinda implied that both haechan and the reader are bi because in this house we only support mxf bi4bi couples (joking… unless) do whatever you want with this information.

WC: 44.804k

TAGLIST: @adorejaehyn​ @matchahyuck​ @sundhaelatte @jjhmk​ @ourbeautifulaffair​ @what-the-jams​ @oleoleniall​ @kundann @bbagu​ @ismileeprnc-responder​ @produmads​ @zkdlllin​ @yesohhsehun​ @aliceinwhateverland​ @strangevante​ @cas104 @hyuckdreams​

A/N: finally writing hyuck as a loser male wife (kinda) my life is complete!!! It’s been months and I’m back with a request, I know it took long to write it but I hope whoever requested will like this. I’m still not sure about the present tense but idk I’m trying out new things. I would really appreciate if you could support my work in any way, feedback makes me happy and motivates me to keep writing. If you can, reblog so it can reach more people or come and chat in the ask box to let me know your opinion! Love you, enjoy!

It was Johnny’s fault. It’s always his fault when things don’t go as planned. 

It’s his fault if right now you are jumping around Haechan’s bedroom trying to look for your clothes while the clock is running fast, and you are running late. 

It was Johnny’s fault for setting you up with Haechan out of all his friends. 

“Can you please help instead of just staring while I slowly transcend into madness?”

Haechan rolls his eyes, still laying in bed, crumpled-up sheets all over his body. “Damn, all of this for a pair of panties?”

“For all my clothes. What the hell did we do last night?” You groan, throwing your head back while another exhausted sigh slips from your lips. 

“Don’t know,” he shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face while a small smirk curls his lips, “fucked you so hard you forgot?”

“Shut up!”

Haechan sighs another time, eyes rolling in the back of his skull before he stands up and actually starts helping you find your things. You hear him giggle at your muttered curses under your breath but at least he’s helping, studying the room to put your outfit back together. 

But when you finally are done, he doesn’t shut up, he’s not half asleep like he usually is when you sneak out of his place on your tiptoes like a thief. 

“You know, I don’t even get it,” he says, crossing his arms, eyes fixated on you even if you can only see him with your peripherical view, too occupied putting your panties back on. 

“What?”

“Why you’re always in a rush. I think this is the first time I wake up with you. I don’t bite, you know,” you can hear the sarcasm in his voice and this early in the morning, with those implications, you find it slightly irritating. 

You scoff, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“It happened once,” he exhales loudly, a hint of annoyance in his voice, “they looked extra soft.” That’s always his justification when you bring up the one time he bit you during sex, his eyes falling on your chest before you swiftly cover it with your arm. 

“Okay, enough. You are a sleepy head and I have things to do, that’s why.”

Yeah, that’s why. It’s got nothing to do with the fact you created a list of rules to follow when you two started this and you would’ve rather got hit by lighting than broken one of those. He doesn’t know it, though. So, your different personalities and lifestyles make up a good excuse. 

“Whatever,” he replies, believing in you, slightly disappointed over the fact you implied he’s lazy and sleeps too much. “We could eat break—”

“No!” You scream. “Fuck,” you shout again when in the rush of reacting to his absurd proposal you almost zip your panties — or better the skin of your mound — in the zip of your jeans. “I just told you I’m late.”

Haechan doesn’t get you. He thinks he never will. And you can see it in his eyes and the way he’s looking at you. It makes no sense for you to sweat while you’re dressing up again. He also thinks he knows so little of you and has no faint idea of what you could be late for. But he doesn’t ask. He might not have rules written, but somehow that feels like crossing some of those lines that are in between you like invisible strings. 

“My purse, my purse, where the hell is my purse?”

He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes at your panicked eyes that are looking around the room, before he responds nonchalantly, “Couch, probably. You always throw it there.”

You quirk a brow. Always? Are you picking up habits? You scroll that out of your mind and run a hand through your hair — the flat press that now looks like a mess — before walking past him. It’s so irritating to have him there while you have to escape. 

“Why are you following me?” You ask exhausted, turning around to meet him standing right behind you; you’re face to face, and considering he spent half of the night inside you, you shouldn’t find it so weird to have him so close, but it is, so you take a step back. 

“’Cause this is my house?”

You huff, “yeah, of course.” Your purse is on the couch where you always throw it, and you’re quick to grab it before heading to the door. 

“Are you sure you don’t —”

“No, gotta go. Bye. See ya,” you stop him, waving a last goodbye with a barely visible movement of the hand. 

The door closes behind you and you finally start breathing normally again.

This is all Johnny’s fault.

It was Johnny’s fault. 

If only he didn’t drag you out that night with the lame excuse that you needed to unwind and meet new people. 

It wasn’t totally wrong. Let’s say you aren’t the best at making decisions, especially romantically, and you were still caught up with your ex... or whatever he was. You two weren’t together anymore, technically. Practically? Well…

But you didn’t want to start a new thing, your ex was traumatic, no matter how good the sex was (it wasn’t even that good, currently he’s the only one you can get sex from without having to hold boring conversations with a drink in hand and spend the ride back to their place hoping you didn’t end up in the arms of a killer) he was an asshole.

“Can you please don’t run, I can’t keep up with you,” you scream, trying to reach your best friend, Johnny, hurrying in your steps, praying you won’t break your ankles. 

“You still insist to wear those heels when you can’t walk in them,” he jokes, laughing at you, watching you huff and bend over to catch your breath. 

“It’s not them, it’s you for being so tall, why do you take such big steps?” 

Johnny only rolls his eyes before pointing at the bar door with his head, “Should we head in? Need me to carry you or your small legs can drag you inside?” 

You frown, glaring at him, “I hate you.” 

Johnny smiles, handing out his arm so you can intertwine it with yours and then you step in. 

The inside of the bar is cosy, the brown of the wood and the shelves make it warmer, and the music playing in the background is a nice company sound that won’t overshadow the talks. You don’t have time to look around much more, Johnny’s hand swiftly wraps around your wrist, and then he starts dragging you somewhere, and you can only activate your brain again to focus on him if you don’t want to fall in the middle of the place like a bag of potato. 

“Dude, you finally made it, you’re late.” A boy you don’t know exclaims from the table and your eyes follow the line of five heads sitting next to him. 

“Sorry, it was her fault,” Johnny says. Lies, cause you were on time, he picked you up late, making you wait ten minutes under your complex’s porch. 

You are about to complain but suddenly all the eyes are on you, and you are too conscious about it to do anything else other than stare back at them with an awkward shy smile and a small wave of your hand. 

“He picked me up late,” you still manage to babble out cause there’s no way that will be the first impression of you. You surely have some flaws — many flaws, Johnny would say — but being late it’s not one of them. 

“Yeah, we know,” another one replies, glaring at your friend. 

“Haechan,” Johnny replies with a scowl to him, and you try to note to yourself that’s his name. “Move, we need to sit, too.” 

You wouldn’t have minded sitting at the far end of the bench, not even if you were at risk of falling down every two seconds. It would’ve been better than being squeezed between Johnny and Haechan. But even if the position is not the best, once again because Johnny takes too much space, after more than an hour you got along with all of his friends, you learned that most of them were dating, or busy with something, so you couldn’t quite get why Johnny brought you there. The fear that it was his way to confess to you and screw up twenty years of friendship got your skin crawling for a second, but when you were left alone with the black-haired man to your right, it all made sense. 

“So, how do you know Johnny?” You ask, turning around to look at him while a small smile curls your lips. 

Haechan smiles, or smirks, it’s almost a chuckle, you can’t quite describe it. “At the gym.” 

“At the gym?” 

He rolls his eyes, swiftly licking his lips, and lifting his hands up in defence, “I tried, okay? It’s just not for me.” 

“Oh, no, sorry if it came off rudely,” you apologise. “You didn’t seem interested when they talked about it before so…” 

“Cause I’m not,” he laughs wholeheartedly, and his face softens, making you take a breath of relief, well, good, you didn’t fuck it up for once. “We got close soon and then we started knowing each other out of that hell.”

You laugh at the way he talks about the gym, not that you disagreed, Johnny tried more than once to drag you there but you’re loyal to your Saturday and Sunday morning runs outside or on your treadmill. 

His eyes fall on yours again, and he briefly studies your features before speaking again, “What about you?” 

“Oh, he was actually my brother’s best friend, then they fought, and we became inseparable. My brother is still mad but that’s not my fault.” 

Haechan laughs even though a frown hardens his features for a second, something about your tone seemed off for a split moment, but he shrugs it off and tries to joke about it, “Usually that ends with dating.” 

Your eyes widen and your head moves from side to side. “Oh, hell no.” 

“Johnny’s a dream for a lot of people.” 

“Yeah, we’re fine as friends,” you confirm again, the mere idea of seeing Johnny as something else making your stomach convulse. You are sure he’s a perfect boyfriend, husband even, to somebody else.  

“Oh, already taken?” 

“No, we’re friends, he’s my soulmate in another way. And I don’t do love.” 

Haechan stares at you, his eyes moving on your face, the small nervous twitching of the corner of your lips, and the frenetic playing of your fingers with the crumbs on the table. “No?” 

“It’s just not for me. Not in a…” you stop, trying to find the words. You don’t have a reason, you just never fell deeply for someone. You surely care for people, and you love your friends, but your relationships never left a deep mark on you. You’re fine with yourself. “I’m good on my own.” 

“Bad experiences?” He tries to guess, thinking he’s going to hit the target. 

You shake your head, sipping on the glass of alcohol and emptying it. “No, I’ve always been like this. I think nobody made a mess of me to leave me hooked on them.” 

He chuckles, and something crosses his face but you don’t catch it, it looks like the smirk of before with a glint in his eyes, but it’s too quick, and you don’t know him at all to read his micro-expressions that well. 

“You?” You ask, feeling a push of curiosity that makes you want to learn more about him. His lips move, but you have no time to carry on the conversation since the others arrived. 

Back then you didn’t know where that night would’ve led you. You had no idea that the person that would’ve made a mess of you was right there by your side. But of one thing you can be sure, it was Johnny’s fault. 

You’re sure that night nothing clicked between you and Haechan; whatever Johnny had in mind, didn’t happen. You two didn’t even exchange numbers, you can’t even remember if you said a proper goodbye to him when you stumbled out of that restaurant hanging from your best friend’s arm. 

Whatever led you here started a few weeks after, probably even a month later, when Haechan had already slipped out of your mind, long forgotten, categorized with those people that if you saw somewhere you were sure you already knew, but couldn’t remember when, why, and how. 

But with him, that didn’t happen. When your eyes met again you felt something. He looked different, probably it was the black hair framing his face perfectly, some make-up on his face too, or the leather jacket he was wearing and the chains around his neck. You remembered him, clear as the sky. But he was even hotter, attracting you without saying a word, not that you would’ve heard. You were at a club, and he was leaning against the bar on the other side of you. But his eyes were speaking louder than words, and your feet followed an invisible path that got you right there, on the stool next to him. 

“Look who’s alive,” Haechan jokes, looking at you up and down, eyes lingering for a bit longer on your exposed thighs, the pink skirt you’re wearing giving him a good view of your skin.  

You chuckle, “why would I be dead?” 

He shrugs, before calling the bartender and ordering you a drink. “Don’t know, you disappeared,” he whispers, looking at you.

“I didn’t know we wanted to keep contact,” you say, meeting his gaze and drifting away immediately, it’s a subtle movement, enough to make it seem like the stocked bottles of different types of liquor are more interesting than him. You never react like that, there’s something different in the air tonight and you’re not sure you want to get drunk on that feeling. 

“You’re right,” he whispers, and your legs brush for an instant as he sits better on the stool. “I find you interesting, so I was looking forward to seeing you again.” 

“Really? After a five-minute talk, I already have that effect on you?” You tease, staring into his brown eyes while you sip on the drink that arrived. 

“You talked all night, to be honest. You seem fun to be with,” he defends himself, but you see in the way he acts that he’s confident, your teasing didn’t make him uncomfortable or anything, and you don’t know where your bickering-flirting method is going to take you. “You’re friends with Jonny, after all.” 

You shake your head, placing the glass down, and then fix your skirt. “So following your logic you should be charming and attractive too?” 

He lifts a hand to stop you, “Never called you charming or attractive, do you think that of me, honey? Want me to think you are?” 

You’re stunned and a bit taken aback because you weren’t expecting that answer, and you don’t even expect your body to light on fire. It’s not really about the words, it’s the way he gets you, like nobody ever did before, like you want him to get you, to keep up with you. And it’s also in the way his body talks, it’s addictive, it is charming, the small fidgeting of the fingers, the bounce of his legs while his legs are a bit spread open and his thighs are perfectly wrapped by those jeans that make you want to do unholy things, and his eyes, that taunting, witty light and the grin on his face. 

You shake your head when you realize that you still didn’t come up with an answer, too lost in his details to think about a comeback, and you’d like to die when his melodious laugh resonates from his chest. 

“Should we order another one to ease the tension?” He doesn’t give you time to fall down into the deep end of your regrets and embarrassment, he’s smiling at you tenderly, and you smile back. 

There’s something different in the air, and you’re sure about it, just like you feel more and more like you shouldn’t get drunk on that feeling. 

But you don’t have a choice when the night drags longer and you’re no longer sitting at the bar but you’re dancing in a corner of the club with his hands all over you. You don’t know how you got there, words turned into teasing, teasing turned into something bigger you didn’t know how to deal with (he is good with words), and to bear with them you thought dancing would’ve drawn his quirky remarks out, but Haechan was also good with his body, and once he had you wrapped around him, you didn’t know how to stop. 

You had lost sight of Johnny, but you couldn’t care about him. Technically you had to go home with him, but you weren’t sure you wanted to. 

“Fuck, girl,” he whispers, “you’re good at this.” 

You roll your eyes, but a laugh rolls out from your chest. “Don’t call me girl, it sounds so condescending and you sound like a creep.” 

“Sorry, prefer other pet names, or is your name fine?” 

“My name is fine.” Your name should’ve been a neutral thing to keep him away from your heart, at least — even if he actually isn’t, he is already deep inside your panties by now. But unfortunately, even the way your name rolls out of his lips makes your heart lose a beat. But you blame it on the night, on the alcohol, and on the fact he’s teasing you, whispering it right next to your ear as if he’s casting a spell on you. 

You need to breathe some fresh air because Haechan is becoming too much. He was already all over you and you aren’t used to this. 

When you open the door of the bar and lean against the wall, the cold of the night envelops you before his warmth washes over you again. 

He doesn’t talk, though. Even if your eyes are closed you can feel he is staring at your face, fearfully at your lips while they puff out white clouds of air. 

“Should we take this home?” Those words seem so loud in the quiet of the night, just a few cars passing by and some people stumbling out of the club. 

You don’t reply, your head turns around to stare at him; he’s serious, partially drunk, but serious. And you are in desperate need of a good fuck. Well, you hope it will be a good one, or probably no, maybe you wish it will be terrible so you can rant about it with Johnny and he will make sure you and Haechan never cross paths again. But right now, you’re not thinking with your brain, and you want him, hoping it will be good, and who knows, maybe you can find your perfect distraction. 

“Your place?” You ask straightforwardly, meeting his eyes. 

“Oh, Mark’s at home,” he says, “my roommate.” 

You sigh, you can’t take him home either. “Well,” you say, rubbing your neck and looking away, “maybe next time, then.” 

“Wait,” he stops you by a hand, “have you ever done it in a car?” 

No, you haven’t, and soon you also find out why you’ve never done it.

“Will you please stop cursing?” Haechan rasps, pulling your panties down, trying to block your leg from kicking him in the face. 

“I don’t think this is the best place we could — fuck,” the words die in your mouth when, after rolling his eyes and gutturally groaning to shut up, his lips close around your pussy. It’s a harsh suck on your clit that gets you silent, head rolling back on the backseat. You think that he might be uncomfortable kneeling between your legs, halfway down and halfway up in the space between the front and back seats, but you honestly don’t care, that’s his problem for choosing this out of all the places, not that you had a better alternative, at least the car is clean, unlike the club bathroom. 

It’s not the first impression people would go crazy to have about themselves, but fuck, Haechan’s good at this. It’s like he has a mission, and probably that’s to make you come in the shortest possible time. 

“Why are you so loud?” You ask. It’s not a complaint, you like hearing him moan against your skin, and as embarrassing as they should be, you enjoy the slurp sounds he’s making while his mouth keeps working wonders on you. But your pleasure-haltered voice doesn’t come out how it sounds in your brain and Haechan growls in annoyance. 

“Why are you still talking?” He scolds, pulling away from you, and the sight of his face covered in your wetness makes your stomach twist and your hips buck searching for more. You need him back right where he was, immediately. “Good, these are the only reactions I want from you,” he comments mockingly with a snotty grin on his face before he leans down and resumes where he stopped. 

This time no more words but curses and moans come out of your mouth. Your head falls back slack, and your fingers graze the backseats of his car, trying to hold onto something as the knot in your stomach tightens more with every lick on your sensitive core. 

“Taste so good,” he hums against you, his hands push your legs up for what he can, and his fingers dip into your soft skin, gripping strongly to keep you in place. The cold of the rings adorning his digits makes you shiver and you’d do anything to have them inside you, but it feels so good that you can’t even beg for that, too focused on what he’s already doing with his lips and tongue. 

“Haechan,” you whisper when he quickens his movements and parts your lips more, starting to also tease your entrance with his tongue and making you feel more exposed. You should be more bothered about the cars — and people — passing next to you in the parking spot, but given by your whimpers and moans, it’s clear you don’t care. Truthfully, it’s like you have completely forgotten where you are, not even the painful reminder of the safety belt’s buckle pressing right against your ribcage seems to remind you that you’re in public and anyone could hear — and for now see too, since the windowpanes aren’t fogged by the heat of your bodies yet. 

“Mhh, mhh,” he sings in response, opening his eyes to meet yours, looking at you with so much intensity you feel your knees tremble and your thighs close around his head. “No, no, no, babe, let me do my job.” 

You groan; the teasing, almost condescending, tone of his voice fuels a fire in you, and the orgasm chokes you up. You curse when your climax breaks through your body and leaves you gasping for air while Haechan continues pleasuring you through your high. His hands cup your ass, kneading it, while his tongue plays with your extra sensitive pussy for some more before he pulls away and stares at the mess between your legs with a proud, playful smirk curling his reddened and puffy lips. 

“So, was it worth it for you, spoiled princess?” 

You scoff, brushing your hair back and some sweat off your forehead, while you try to close your legs because suddenly you feel too exposed to him. “You can’t deny the car is a shitty place.” 

He laughs and then shakes his head. “So shitty you can’t take some more for me?” He tilts his head, raising his brows while he briefly looks down where his hands are patiently waiting for your good to go and get out of his pants. 

“If you’re also so good with your dick I think I can take being cramped up in a sardine can some more,” you joke, struggling to sit up because your legs feel like jelly and you can’t believe he made you feel that good with his tongue only. Your first time together? And it looked like he genuinely loved giving oral? Was all this luck a sign of something tragic imminent? 

You scroll your thoughts out of your mind when you feel the sound of the belt unbuckling and his jeans hitting the floor of the car. 

“Fucking worst idea ever,” he curses as he realizes that he can’t fuck you with the denim mid-thigh. 

“I told you,” you retort, and you’d be entertained to watch him curse and struggle some more, pondering if he should just get rid of his shoes too and be naked while anyone could knock on your window and signal you to the police, but you want him too badly and you can’t wait any longer, so you propose a thing, “Sit here, I’ll ride.” 

His eyes light up and you can see the weight being lifted off his chest as he nods and promptly sits in the middle seat. You stare in silence as he pushes the boxers down his legs too before grabbing a condom and rolling it down his length. You could cry because also his dick looks perfect for now, and you don’t go around saying it often, but it’s literally the perfect size, it won’t hurt you and yet it will fill you amazingly, you just know. 

“Enchanted?” He tsk with a bragging tone, winking while he runs his fingers through his hair.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head, but your pussy clenching is your honest reaction, he’s too hot and uses it to his advantage a bit too often, he can’t keep getting away with it. So, you go on with your lie, trying to appear unfazed, you shake your head and climb on top of him, luckily you decided to go for the mini skirt and not the long pants tonight, so you don’t have access problems. You move your hand to grab the base and lift your hips, only when you feel his tip prod at your entrance you start sinking. 

“Oh, shit,” you moan and your head rolls back when you bottom down completely. You don’t move right away, letting yourself get used to his — in fact — perfect girth and length, feeling his hands wrap around your waist to keep you from falling clumsily. 

Haechan lets out a shaky moan too, and his eyes are closed still when you lift your head and focus on his face, but they snap open when you start moving on him. 

“Fuck, eager?” He groans, biting his lips to don’t be too loud, not that it would do anything when you’re moving so fast on him, your ass smacking hard against his thighs, the sounds filling the vehicle. 

“Wanted to fuck you since I saw you standing at the bar,” you confess nonchalantly, and he thinks you can’t be real, but he has no time to dwell on you and the way you are because you’re taking his breath away. He can’t even lie, he wanted you too since the same moment, if not since the very first night, so having you here feels a bit unreal. 

“You’re so hot,” he whispers, eyes moving on your body, watching your boobs bounce with every thrust through the skimpy top, and your thighs, fuck your thighs, he wants to squeeze them and hold them, and so he does, moving his hands there and massaging the flesh, eliciting more moans from your parted lips. 

Your hands clench on his shoulders, your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out a groan but it surprises you when you realize it’s a moan of pleasure and not pain. Your lips twitch in a smirk before your tongue runs on them. “Like the pain?” 

He glares at you, moving his left hand on your ass, slapping it harshly, smirking in victory when a choked moan falls from your lips and your cunt clenches around him. “You too, it seems,” he winks. 

“Fucker,” you slur out, narrowing your brows, and picking up a different rhythm, grinding your hips on him with force to distract him from your right hand creeping on his neck until it reaches his hair and pulls at it with a tug. 

“Shit,” he moans, thighs flexing under you at the unexpected wave of pleasure he feels rushing through his bones. “I hate you.” 

You don’t reply, you don’t need to, it’s clear he doesn’t, and he’s loving it. So, you give him more, leaning in to leave small bites on his neck and collarbones. You don’t let your teeth sink in his golden sink much, your goal is not to leave ugly blooms of purple and red for everyone to see, you want to feel the shivers on his skin and the hisses hitting your earlobe every time you graze his sensitive skin. 

You pull back with a cuss when another smack lands on your other asscheek, and Haechan chuckles darkly at your surprised face. 

“What, babe? It’s the art of giving and receiving,” he says, trying to sound cocky but his breaths are short and he’s clearly fighting himself back to let out all the moans you’re eliciting from him. 

You groan, and you almost lean in to kiss him, you don’t think it through, your body moves on its own but right when your lips are about to crash you stop, seeing eye to eye. “I hope you’re having fun, then,” you retort, but your voice is shaky — he blames it on the sex — and your heart is almost pumping out of your ribcage, but he doesn’t notice, he doesn’t even notice your trembling hand as you try to fight off the anxiety that being so close to him, to his lips, to his eyes, gives you. 

“So much fun,” he snorts, pulling you closer to him by the waist and you have to pull back swiftly, gasping for air. The car feels suffocating, and when you turn around for a split second you can’t see what’s outside, glasses steamed up. 

“Worried about people that could see us?” He teases you, bringing your attention back on him with his thumb on your clit, smirking proudly when your eyes widen and your thighs tremble, and you have no idea how you’re — not only supporting your body up — but still fucking him. 

“Worried about going home with a corpse in the car,” you mutter when he starts moving his finger on your clit, and presses his hand on the small of your back, and you can almost feel the metal meld in your skin for how hot your body is. 

“Want to kill me? After the best fuck of your life?” He pouts, starting to move up into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs. 

“You wish,” you spit out, but oh god if he’s right. 

“Then I guess you’re not gonna come.” He forces you still down on him, the strong grip on your waist almost painful.  

“What?” Your eyes snap open, and your hands have to hold onto his shoulder because your legs can’t hold you up by themselves anymore. 

“Changed your mind? It’s good?” 

You groan, throwing your head back when he resumes the strokes. “It is good, I just want to slap you for no reason.” Because you are too good, and I might already be addicted and I don’t like how this sounds. 

Haechan grins, loving the way you look like a mess in his arms but still talk back and do anything to pretend that it’s not that good. He’s getting off to that, your blissed face, your low, needy moans, your trembling thighs, and your dripping wet pussy making a mess around him. He’s getting off to you, and your stubbornness that makes all your weaknesses so fucking attractive. 

“Haechan,” you slur out, letting your head fall on his shoulder while your whole body tenses up. You don’t warn him, the orgasm runs through you before you can even process it, and Haechan doesn’t need words anyway because your cunt clenching around him and your nails digging into his back again trigger his own release too. Your moans blend together and bounce around the car while your hips move in messy thrusts for a while more before coming to a stop, slowly letting the quiet of the night around you slip into the car and remind you two what you had just done.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, forcing your torso up, and gulping while you look around and hope you weren’t too lost in the pleasure and didn’t hear police sirens or something. 

“Don’t worry, nobody ever walks around here,” Haechan chuckles, watching the expression on your face change into confusion, leaving the fear behind. “Why do you think I always park here if it’s free?” 

“Oh,” you whisper. “So, you bring a lot of people here. Nice to know,” your comment is sarcastic but you can’t deny the small veil of pettiness and jealousy behind it. 

“Honestly?” He says, shutting down a moan of disappointment when your body leaves his, and you try to look for your purse to find tissues to clean yourself. “I never brought anybody here, not for sex at least.” 

You shouldn’t be relieved, but you are, and you shouldn’t. So you shrug it off and turn around after you pushed the dirty tissue into the empty envelope that used to contain it before. “And for what then?” 

“Occasional smoking weed sessions,” he confesses. “When one of my older friends used to drive me and my roommate here, and we escaped those nights with some other friends. I’m not saying nobody ever passes by, but trust me, they don’t care ‘cause they probably will do the same.” 

You hum before staring at the door handle as if it will open on its own.

“Want me to drop you home? It got late,” Haechan asks now that he’s finally put together again and looks at least decent, the flush on his face is still there and his hair is a mess, but he’s covered. 

You shake your head and bite your thumb before your hand lays on the handle. “No, Johnny will drop me home.” 

“Okay, great. Are you alright?” 

You laugh and look at him with a grin on your face. “Playing boyfriend after you fucked me next to a wood?” 

“Oh, shut up!” He yells, pushing you out, and then following you. “Just wanted to check.” 

“Well, I can walk on my knees, so I guess I’m fine, thank you for your concern, Mr perfect dick.” 

Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking to the other side, opening the driver’s door and getting halfway in. “Fuck you, Miss I’m not fucking in a car.” 

“Goodnight to you, too, Haechannie. It was lovely making a new acquaintance,” you joke, and you can’t hold back the smile when he starts the car and drives away all while holding his middle finger up for you to see after sending you a flying kiss. 

When you turn around and hug yourself in your jacket to shield yourself from the cold, you curse at your first step. 

You very much can’t walk without looking like you just learnt how to stand on your feet. 

“Fuck you, Lee Haechan.” 

The rules aren’t exactly written anywhere in your house, it would’ve been weird if someone ever entered and found your ‘10 things to don’t do with your fuckbuddy’, not that many people are allowed in your apartment. That is another of your thousands of unwritten rules, it’s not like you don’t have friends, you are pretty chatty with everyone and get to know people easily, but your house is your safe place, and only a few are allowed in. Haechan isn’t one of that. It isn’t because you aren’t close with each other, by now it had been six months since you started this and well, you got to know each other pretty deeply, but you are terrified that your rules aren’t his. 

You know how to move when you go to his place, you have your ways to don’t turn this amazing sex into a catastrophe of broken hearts and shed tears; the rules are simple and clear in your mind. 

Rule number 1: never sleep over. 

Sleeping in the same bed is romantic. Even when there are no feelings involved, even when no ‘I love yous’ can slur out of someone’s mouth. 

Sleeping in the same bed is dangerous. 

You can appear a bit cold and distant, but unfortunately, you aren’t. And as much you tell yourself to don’t catch feelings, you may never know what happens when you fall asleep side by side and two arms start keeping you warm. Sure, you could sleep in the same bed and still stay away from each other, but what if… yeah, you don’t even like to think about the possibility of things that aren’t in your plans to happen. 

Better safe than sorry. 

But that rule doesn’t last long. Haechan is a little too good and you always finish a little too late, so most of the time either your legs don’t allow you to stand on your feet (let alone drive back home), or it is too late and there are no more buses. 

So, rule number 1 became what used to be rule number 2: if you by mistake sleep over, leave before he wakes up. 

This one is pretty easy to follow. Haechan is more gone than you in the morning and as soon as you hear the first ring of your alarm you are on your feet, ready to go on with your routine. Washing your face, fixing your hair, and finding your clothes so you could be out of there as soon as possible. You would’ve dealt with the other hygienic things back at home. You often thought about carrying a small bag with you with your toothbrush, a towel, and some other things, but that felt too domestic. Even if you had to bring it from home, the idea of brushing your teeth at his place, washing your hair, taking a shower, and walking around his house with only a bathrobe, made shivers run down your spine. Too romantic. 

Rule number 3: never invite him over. 

It’s not only for sex-related problems, it’s also because you don’t want him to get too deep into you. You had spent a lot of time to make this house your home, and you are sure that if you let him in after the doorstep, he would’ve got to know you, and you don’t want that to happen. You are close, but not too close, and you want to maintain the line clear. 

Rule number 4: no kisses.  

Strictly no kisses outside of the bed. Your initial rule included also kisses inside of the bedroom — or whatever surface he fucked you against — but after the first kiss he stole from you, well, screw another rule. It is also quite impossible when, for some reason, you two got so primal with each other. It isn’t a fucking session with him if you don’t spend at least five minutes making out while your hands roam each other’s bodies leaving marks behind. Embarrassing, you think every time those flashbacks assault your mind when you are out of the sex haze. 

Rule number 5: keep it private. 

This also was never spoken but it seemed like Haechan got it too. It isn’t to protect the relationship or some other bullshit, you simply can’t stand people’s opinions about you and your life. Also, what is the point of people knowing you two fucked? That’s too personal and invasive. You don’t want to deal with their comments or their misunderstanding of your and Haechan’s friendship. After all, you two are friends before anything else and you act like friends, but as soon as people know something more is going on, their first brilliant idea is to make up crazy theories of how you two look like such a hot couple and would be perfect together. 

And then there are some more, random rules you make up along the way every time you feel he is crossing some lines or you are. 

It might seem strange that there’s no rule implying not falling in love, right? Well, it’s not in your brain because you never even thought that could happen. You’re not even sure you ever loved the people you dated, how could you fall for your friend with benefits? 

Unfortunately, it never crossed your mind that they are not Haechan. 

You’re not sure when it all started. What you’re sure about is that you never planned for anything to start. The fuck in the car had been, unfortunately, really good, but you truly believed you could live without his dick. But maybe there was something else of him you couldn’t live without, and you had no idea about it yet.

“So, uhm, you know Haechan, right?” Johnny mutters in a low voice while you two are walking back home after you convinced him to go out for a run with you instead of going to the gym. 

You sip from your cup of coffee and stare at him with a question mark painted all over your face, is he dumb?  “Mhh, yeah, you got us in touch?” 

“Like him?” 

The coffee almost spurts out of your mouth, but you still try to keep your composure and only choke silently on the sip that you’re swallowing. “He seems like a cool guy.” 

Johnny snorts, “A cool guy, really?” 

“What do you want me to say? I barely know him.” You don’t like the smirk that crosses your friend’s face, you know what kind of grin it is, the smirk of a man that has a plan you know nothing about, and you don’t like not being aware of what is going on. “Johnny?” 

“Well, you could get to know him better?” 

Your eyebrow rises and you almost stop walking, your brain running too fast trying to keep up with your friend’s bullshit. “What do you mean?”

“He asked if I could give him your number, wanted to be sure it was okay with you.”

“He asked about me?” 

Johnny hums, slurping loudly on his straw. Aren’t straws banned? Why does this place still sell them? Just so he can get on your nerves? You are brought out of your straw-hatred thoughts when he speaks again. 

“Told me you talked the other night.” 

“Talked,” you snort before coughing. “I mean, the music was loud, and we could barely make a conversation, but yes, he seems… fine.” 

“He seemed interested.” 

“Well, give him my number, I’m sure he won’t text me anyway.” 

You got Haechan wrong. So many times actually, because every time you expected he would do something, he would always surprise you by doing the opposite and you weren’t sure it was a good thing. 

When you got home after parting your ways with Johnny, the last thing you were expecting was to get out of the shower and see the notification on your phone from an unknown number. 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx hi, it’s haechan. guess you remember me cause johnny gave me your number 

thanks for giving him the consent btw

we were so busy last night that we didn’t think about this 

You hate to admit it, but you stare at the phone a little too long, why is he so polite about it? Damn, is your bar set so low? Is it really that bad that 90% of the men you met would’ve sent you a dick pic as the first message or a ‘what would you if I was in the shower with you’ text? Probably it is. 

You quickly shake your head, biting your thumb, and get up from the bed, swearing because you already left a wet patch on the duvet. 

“I can’t answer naked,” you whisper, opening the chat and already thinking about what to reply. “I mean, it could come in handy if he asks for nudes but… what the fuck am I talking about?” You curse before throwing the locked phone in the middle of the bed and rushing to the closet to grab some new clothes. 

When you’re all done, in black sweatpants and a white long-sleeve shirt, hair dry, and skincare applied, you slump on the bed and face what has a big chance of becoming your new toy. 

you hi! yes i can’t really forget you

“Oh, jesus, are you kidding me? That’s cheesy. He will never get that I mean I can’t forget about his fingers, tongue, and cock, right?” You huff, throwing your head back, trying to think of something else.

you hi! yes i remember 

“There, so we don’t sound like a pathetic loser,” you hum happily, pressing send. And with that, you might’ve avoided that, but he’s trying to win the race of the best pathetic losers because he replies in less than a minute. 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx great, feared you forgot about me again 

anyway, how are you? 

You stare at the phone, not because you want to make him wait — you really couldn’t get those tricks, truly sure that if somebody is interested in you they won’t disappear or appear based on how fast or slow you reply — you’re truly shocked because, damn, a small taste of you and he is already a sore loser, and you’re not ready for a half-assed small talk conversation. 

Your fingers start typing anyway. 

you good, went on a run with j

you? 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx stayed humble and played with some of my friends 

“Oh, he’s a gamer? That’s why he’s good with his fingers,” you let out before you can think of what you’re saying, and also ask yourself since when you started talking to yourself so much. Maybe Johnny is right, being alone is fucking you up. 

you did you win? 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx of course, babe

do you know whom you’re talking to?

A loser. 

You think but you don’t write it. 

A loser. 

You think of yourself when reading the message, you can hear his honey-like voice whisper ‘babe’ to your ear and your core starts throbbing as if she’s been left starving for years. 

you haha hope you had fun 

Dammit. Since when do you suck so much at holding a conversation? Why aren’t you flirting back? Wait, is he flirting? 

Another groan leaves your lips as you plunge even southern on the bed and lock the phone again, hoping he lost interest in you after that dry-ass message and you can go back to your toys and your ex — update, the sex ranking fell down after Haechan, he wasn’t even good for that anymore. 

But Haechan surprises you, he always does. When your phone dings again you expect to find Johnny congratulating you for being a dumb bitch but instead your jaw falls on the floor. 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx sure did

btw 

can i take you out tomorrow? johnny told me you stop working at twelve on friday so it shouldn’t be a problem

dinner out? i’ll come to pick you up at 7 

“What the fuck?” Your attempt at don’t look like a crazy single 40 years old woman that fell into madness by being only surrounded by her cats didn’t last long. “What the actual fuck?” 

Is that a date? He asked you how you’re doing for some sort of niceties before dropping the question just like that? Why is Johnny so nosy going around telling your business — mental note; talk to Johnny about shutting his mouth.

you fine but i can drive there 

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx no dw, it’s a surprise, i’ll drive you

you thanks, i promise i won’t make you wait

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx can’t wait to see you 😊 

You snort, fucking loser, before going to his contact. 

‘pathetic loser’ was added to contacts. 

Haechan surprises you even on your first date, or whatever you could call that. As sweet as he seems, you deep down — precisely between your legs — hope it is a dick appointment, but since you aren’t with your car you aren’t so sure about that, he for sure isn’t entering your place that night. 

You are punctual, already waiting for him outside of your house, and immediately entering on the passenger side when he stops on the sidewalk. 

“Am I late?” Haechan asks when he sees you step in so promptly. 

“No. Why wait, though? See that the first time it was Johnny’s fault?” 

Haechan chuckles before giving you a brief look, studying your red dress, the heels, and the small bag, and then starts the car again. “It’s always Johnny’s fault.” 

Yeah, you totally agree.

“So, where are we going?” You ask, hating the silence that’s filling the car. After the small talks, you stopped conversating, and even if it wasn’t awkward you didn’t want your brain to travel to places. 

“I told you, it’s a surprise.” 

“I don’t really like surprises,” you confess, turning your gaze to him, leaving the city behind you.  

“Damn, you bite back,” he whispers, and you blink in surprise. 

“Am I too honest?” 

“Don’t know, I don’t know you yet.” 

You think for a second that you should end this as soon as possible, he seems too sweet and even if you don’t do it on purpose, you know you can come off as too edgy at times. Not everyone likes being told things to their faces or having set boundaries they couldn’t cross, but you mean no harm, you just want your space protected. 

“It wasn’t supposed to come out harshly, I’m sorry,” you say, trying to meet his eyes and when he stops at the traffic lights, he turns to stare at you. “It was kinda a ‘get to know me’ information and I sounded like a bitch.” 

Haechan laughs, shaking his head, fingers tapping on the wheel, probably to release the tension in his muscles. “I wasn’t offended, I just wasn’t expecting you to be so upfront. People… lie.” 

“I hate liars,” your voice comes out just like before and you curse under your breath.  

“Another ‘get to know me’ information?” He questions, his voice playful while a gentle smile curls his lips. 

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “Add it to the list, it might be helpful if you don’t want to end up on my blacklist.” 

The biggest surprise Haechan gifts you is that… he is not an asshole. 

You expected he would say something during dinner to make your pussy dry, brain dead and stomach convulsing with the urge of puking, but… he didn’t. Nothing dumb, insensitive, tone-deaf, cringy, or creepy came out of his mouth. 

Even when he flirted, he knew how to do it right. He was so fucking good at it, being so subtle he left you speechless and warm, making you dizzy, and, after the tenth eyebrow rise and lick of his lips, even wet. 

And he was funny. Quickly going down the memory lane you could recall that the only man that genuinely made you smile so much was Johnny. 

And well, you’re not quite sure how to feel about this. 

The only thing you feel is the disappointment when he drops you back home and you know you won’t get a good fuck out of that — amazing — night. 

“So, did you have a great time?” He asks, rubbing his hands together to warm them while he turns his torso to stare at you, and you see his eyes linger on you a bit more, probably wanting to take in for the last time how beautiful you looked that night, not that he ever stopped reminding you.  

“Yeah,” you whisper, almost shily. “It was fun, and the food was so good.” Yeah, the food. Not you. Absolutely not you. Never you. 

Haechan smiles, nodding. “Glad you had fun; I’ve never been there, so it was a shot in the dark.” 

“Mhh,” you hum, staring at his lips, thinking how badly you want them on you before shaking your head. “It was a good shot in the dark.” 

“Yeah, sometimes I don’t make a mess,” he jokes, and you let out a laugh too. Good for you, you think. You always make a mess, no matter how hard you try to avoid it. 

“Well, it’s… kinda late,” you start saying, rubbing your arms with your palms, and tapping your heels, hoping he would make a move and drive you to his place, as if he could mentally get you and know that you’re insane and there are only five people that can set foot in your house. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking at you. Probably thinking the same, it’s only logical for him to expect you to be the one to make the first move, your place is right behind you, and you only have to ask him to go inside. But you don’t. And he doesn’t even think about kissing you, of course, he doesn’t, you didn’t even let him kiss you while he was fucking you, he’s sure you would slap him if he only moved closer now. 

“‘Kay,” you sigh, undoing the belt and placing your hand on the handle, “I’ll go in. Thanks for the night, the drive, the food, and the laughs.” A tender smile is sitting on your face when you say that to him before making your way out, bending to say goodbye again, just in time to get the thin veil of slight disappointment and sadness in his eyes. 

“That’s what matters,” he smiles. “We can do this again. If you want to,” he adds, panicking, almost as if he had asked to marry you just to regret it two seconds later. 

“Yeah, we can,” you smile. “It’s pretty chilly out here, so,” you shrug, “goodnight?” 

“Can’t wait to see you again, then. Goodnight,” he says before waving at you. 

You see he waits for you to get inside before his car starts again to head home and you find yourself grinning like a fool when the door closes behind you.  

Yeah, he’s definitely a loser.  

You could call that the start of your friendship, but surely not where the benefits started. Actually, the whole sex thing took a toll for a few weeks where you only got to know each other and hung out casually. You can’t lie, you were sad about it, and you thought you screw it all up that night when you didn’t let him in; nothing could’ve gone wrong for one time you let him in, right? He would’ve fucked you into the weekend, making you see heaven, and then you could’ve kicked him out of the house, right? But you didn’t, and now you are here, absorbed in your torments, trying to find a way to get back to where you started, possibly without ruining your friendship, of course. 

You know the chemistry between you two is still there, but it’s like he’s holding back. You surely aren’t; flirting shamelessly with him, sometimes even in front of your — now common — friends (no need to worry about Johnny, he knows you can flirt with plants when you’re in a peak of insanity and good mood, nothing of your remarks is ever serious — it is with Haechan, but he doesn’t know — you just have zero skills of keeping your tongue inside your mouth and your thoughts inside your brain). 

So, you understand that you need to make a bolder move, the dinners and the meets up around town aren’t working, and your move is Johnny and another night out at the club. 

It works. After dancing together almost all night in a corner of the club, you find yourself pressed against a wall while his hands run on your body and his lips — shily — kiss your neck, and you know you got him. 

“Your place,” you slur, pushing him away, and grabbing his hand to drag him to get your jackets. 

“But Mark’s at —” 

“As far as I am concerned, Mark can listen to us all night, I don’t care. We’re not fucking in the car.” 

“Your place. What about your pla—” he tries to argue but your glare when you turn around and you’re now face to face stops him. 

“Your place, now.” 

He’s good at following orders, or maybe you’re just scary when you want to, but whatever the motive, all that matters to you is that after a fifteen minutes drive — the longest of your life — and a few minutes walk from the car to the apartment, you have Haechan buried between your legs, eating you out as if that’s what he was sent on earth to do. 

You wish you could care about trying to keep it low and don’t moan loudly for Mark, but when Haechan slips two fingers in you and starts sucking on your clit with more strength, his poor roommate slips out of your mind completely. 

“Fuck,” you moan as your head rolls back, rubbing against the pillows of his bed, and your legs part unconsciously. 

“You’re so embarrassingly wet,” Haechan notices, standing on his elbow and licking his lips clean with a flick of his tongue. “Bet even Mark can hear how wet you are,” he mocks, quickening the pace of his fingers inside your cunt, causing the lewd sounds of your wetness to be even louder. 

“Shut up!” You groan, slamming your hand next to you on the mattress before your fist moves in a ball and traps the sheets between your fingers. 

Haechan grins, and a chuckle rolls from his lips while his eyes skim your face, meeting your eyes that are — pathetically — trying to glare at him. “You’re so pretty like this, you know?” 

Another annoyed grunt slips out of your mouth, and you move your head to the side to avoid seeing his face. 

But Haechan clicks his tongue and pulls out of you, making you whine and move your hand to bring his fingers right where they were. He’s faster than you when he sits up and cups your face with his clean hand as his fingers plunge back into you with no warning, cutting the air in your lungs and causing your eyes to flutter shut. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” he orders and you unwillingly open them again, locking them in his. “That’s it, pretty girl.” 

The way those two words roll from his lips shouldn’t make your stomach twist, but they do, you prefer blaming it on the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, brushing against your sweet spot and driving you closer to the climax second after second. 

“I’m...” you mumble, chest lifting erratically because the eye contact is driving you more insane than his hand in you, “...close.” 

The grin that appears on his face is so slappable but you have no strength to lift your hand and do anything, and Haechan can see it in your eyes. That’s how he wants you, speechless. 

“Come for me, babe,” he urges you, pressing his thumb on your clit and moving it in circles. 

“Fuck,” you rasp out, your hand reaches his wrist, and he shakes his head, tsking. 

“No, you’re not pushing me away,” he says, but he doesn’t move your hand away, you are not even trying to push him off, well, you are, but the attempt is laughable and embarrassing. 

“Too much, too much,” you cry out, voice coming out muffled by his hand still wrapped around your chin. “Haechan, please.” 

“Come, we both know you can take much more, don’t play with me,” he growls, leaning in to trap your lips in a messy, heated kiss. “Be good and come for me, would you?” 

You moan and hum against his lips, your hand around his wrist tightens the grip but not to push him away, to hold onto him while his fingers move even faster in and out, your hips buck up and your feet press against the mattress while he keeps you down. You feel like you can’t breathe when the orgasm breaks through and you see stars, shaking under him as you feel the grin on his face as he muffles your whimpers in his mouth. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry out, slapping his hand away when he doesn’t stop moving after your high dimmed down. “Haechan, fucking stop.” 

He laughs deeply and stands away from you, his fingers slip out of you but soon after they’re inside his mouth as he licks them clean while staring straight into your eyes. 

“You will drive me insane,” you mutter low enough only for you to hear and Haechan raises a brow, silently questioning you to repeat, but you won’t tell him that. “Fuck me,” you request instead, sitting and grabbing the hem of your shirt to lift it off your head, throwing it around the room. 

“Hey, I wanted to undress you,” he pouts, watching you unclasp the bra that meets the same fate as the shirt soon after. 

“Too late, should’ve thought about it before.” 

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t move from his position, too busy staring at your naked form. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.” 

Your eyes roll back in your skull while a heavy sigh leaves your lips. “Great, can you fuck me, please,” your voice is venomously nice, and gets him on top of you in a second. 

“Though it was too much? Are you sure you can take it?” 

“If you don’t fuck me, I’ll ask Mark to do it and will make you watch while you’re tied to a chair.” 

He whistles with enthusiasm, raising a brow, “That sounds pretty hot, you know? But I don’t think Mark’s the type to enjoy these things. Should we ask somebody else?” 

“Is there anything that is actually a threat to you or are you so horny that anything is a possibility?” 

“Don’t know,” he whispers with a light tone as he leans in and starts kissing your neck, moving down until his lips wrap around your hard nipple, sucking harshly enough to make you hiss before he keeps talking, “isn’t life boring if you don’t at least try everything once?” 

Your stare could burn him alive. “I swear this is the last time you’re fucking me.” 

“Oh, shut up,” he groans, kissing you to silence you. “Anything legal and not dangerous.” 

“I don’t care about that,” you almost scream. “Just fuck me, now.” 

“Ask nicely,” he coos, caressing your cheek with the back of his index finger and you glare at him. 

“Mark.” 

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes and before you can say another word he slips into you. Your teeth trap your lower lip to muffle a high moan to be heard in the entire house and your nails dig into his back. “Gave you what you wanted.” 

“Not yet,” you whisper through gritted teeth as your body gets used to his size. “Fuck me.” 

“As you wish,” he replies, adjusting better between your legs to find the right position, and after a few seconds, he’s thrusting into you. This is ten times more comfortable than the fuck in the car and you can’t believe it’s happening again. “Yeah, definitely like you better like this,” he comments with a cocky smirk, his eyes are still on your face, and his hands are holding tight on your hips. 

“Like you better when you fuck me and keep your mouth shut,” you bite back. You don’t know why you two get so heated up during sex — fair, two times is not enough to draw conclusions and come up with statistics, but to you, it’s clear this is the way you two talk to each other when things get spicy — when you talk normally, you’re not like this. 

Haechan rolls his eyes and grunts as he pushes with more vigor inside you, swiftly pushing your thighs against your chest with his body, and blocking your wrists over your head. His lips crush messily against yours, trapping them in a rough kiss. 

Your eyes roll in the back of your head when he hits the sensitive spot inside you, and your legs immediately wrap around his waist to keep him close to you. You haven’t died yet — obviously — but this feels like the closest thing to heaven — you doubt you’ll go to heaven, to be honest — but anyway this; his hips rolling against you so perfectly, his hand on your hip and the other around your wrist, his lips on your neck and collarbones, and his cock buried deep into you, this is a taste of heaven, the higher you ever felt and probably will ever feel. And it feels humiliating that he’s got you like this after the second time together, but you don’t want to fight the feeling. 

And you don’t. You moan, even letting out chants of his name shamelessly, and he has to remind you with an amused grin that you’re not alone. Mark is right next door and as funny as it might be, Haechan is not sure he wants to share you in any kind of way, no, not even the way you whimper and squirm under him. 

“Keep quiet, babe,” he hushes you, kissing you again, and you have no strength to push him off. Maybe you can get used to his kisses, after all, it’s just sex, and for some spell, Haechan turns everything he does into sex, so a few heated kisses while he pounds into you until the bed squeaks won’t make you fall head over heels for him. 

You nod, eyelids fluttering as you try to focus on him. His brown hair is falling on his forehead, and there’s a cute, sexy, frown in the middle of his forehead, while his eyes are staring into yours, and you feel the knot in your stomach tug strongly, making your breath cut short. He is so intense, it’s like he can reach so deep into you and discover parts of you that are still untouched. 

“Haechan, fuck,” your voice gets higher when he pulls your hips closer to him and changes angle to fuck into you better, “I won’t last.” 

He snorts, “Good.” 

“No, no good, I…” I want you. I want you all night. I want you all over me until your smell consumes mine. You want to scream but it’s too pathetic. You never went this far for some sex. But nobody ever felt this good either. 

“I can fuck you all night,” he chuckles while his thumb finds your clit and starts torturing you even more. “Don’t believe me?” 

You groan. You do. You just know. He’s been sent by the gods at this point and you’re sure you won’t find flaws in him anytime soon, but you can’t. You can’t stay the night. You can’t let him get so deep into your skin so soon. 

“Come,” he urges you, “don’t hold back.” 

Your jaw tenses before going slack when he flicks your clit just right, triggering your orgasm. It’s intense, running into you from head to toe with so much force that you have to slap your hand on your mouth to avoid waking Mark up. You think Haechan’s close too, you can hear how his moans got lighter and whinier, but once again, he surprises you. 

You don’t have time to complain when Haechan pulls away, leaving you empty. He turns you around, lightly slapping your asscheek to order you to get on your knees while your shoulders stay flat on the mattress, you wouldn’t have the strength to stand on your arm even if you wanted to. 

“Want one more?” He asks against your ear, teasing his tip against your soaked entrance and brushing it against your throbbing clit in quick motions. 

You hum, nodding against the pillow, “Please, please, fuck me again.”

You almost feel the smirk against your face before he fills you once more, stretching your sensitive pussy, making more of your cum drip out of you. 

Your eyes fall shout, a raspy, low moan slips out of your lips, this position is making you feel him even more as the first orgasm has enhanced your senses. You feel like a puddle under him. 

“You feel so good, baby,” he groans, throwing his head back as he picks up the rhythm of before, holding onto your hips so tightly his nails sink into your skin, making you hiss in pleasure. “So warm and wet for me.” 

You hide your head between the pillows, biting back the moans, wondering why Mark didn’t push down the door already because there’s no way he’s not hearing all of this. But for some reason, the idea of him listening turns you on even more. 

And it’s like Haechan gets it. He leans back against you, brushing your hair away so his lips can be right against your earlobe. “What are you thinking, babe?” 

“Ma-mark,” you slur through ragged breaths, “not him, not like,” the words die in your throat, afraid he might misunderstand, “what if he knows?” 

Haechan’s laugh hits you straight to the core, it’s deep and mocking, and you clench harder around him. “Oh, honey,” he whispers, and his voice feels like honey, thick and velvety, “I think he knows.” 

You shake your head, trying to convince yourself he might be a heavy sleeper, but your body is following another direction, feeling excited just at the idea, so you push your ass up. 

“You can’t keep quiet, you’re so fucking loud it’s like you want to get caught,” he taunts, smacking the side of your thighs, smirking when your muscles tense in response. “Want him to know I’m making you feel this good?” 

You deny with a movement of your head, but words fail to come out because you feel on the edge again and you don’t know how much longer you can last. 

Haechan clicks his tongue and then presses his chest against your back. “Let’s see if this can keep you quiet.” The last thing you expect are his fingers pushed into your mouth, but after the first surprise, you don’t even complain. Your mouth wraps around his three digits and you start to suck on them eagerly, receiving a moan of approval from him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.” He knows he won’t last when your eyes flutter at the compliment and you start sucking on them even harder, he can only think about you taking his cock instead. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles, as the images in his fantasy and the one in front of his eyes start having the best on him, hips starting to lose control, “I’m close.” 

You start fucking back into him, and that’s the last thing he needs to come. His moans are higher, and when you turn your head to the side you see his trying to hold them in, biting his lips and gripping your hips tighter with the hand that is not in your mouth. 

The sight of him losing his mind is enough to make you lose yours. You’re in ecstasy as your orgasm pervades your body. 

“Shit,” Haechan growls one last time, his fingers slip out of your mouth and he pulls out of you before he’d like to, squirting some of his cum on your ass and thighs. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry.” 

You barely realize what he’s talking about, but honestly, you don’t care. For what you’re concerned, after the fuck you had, he could’ve come all over you and you wouldn’t have minded.

“It’s fine,” you breathe out. Your eyes fall shut as you focus on your erratic breath, feeling him slump next to you without any other words. 

“Are you okay? Was it too much?” He asks, and at first, you think he’s bragging but when your eyes meet, you realize he’s being genuine. So you nod and beam at him as the only reply you can give him at the moment. 

You lie in silence for a bit, your bodies are not touching and you can only feel his heavy breath calm down with yours as you both wait for your body to cool down again. You don’t wait to be fully recovered to stand up and slip out of the covers, too afraid that sleep will take over you and block you at his side. 

“What are you doing?” He questions, staring at you with an arm under his head. 

“Putting my clothes back on,” you reply with a lift of shoulders as if that wasn’t obvious. You try to search for a bin where you can throw the tissues you used to clean yourself but you can’t find any, so you remind yourself to search in the kitchen before leaving.  

“You can wear something mine.” 

“I would have to hand it back next time we see each other, I can survive in this a bit longer.” 

“You’re sleeping with those clothes?” Confusion blooms on his face as he watches your shaky hands struggle with the zip. 

“No, I’ll change myself into my nightgown.” 

A frown almost connects his brows before he voices out his doubts, “I don’t have it here.” 

“I’m leaving,” you say with a hint of annoyance, he thought you were sleeping there, really? 

“Leaving? You can stay.” 

You don’t answer immediately, grabbing your phone to book a ride home, and then reply while shoving the phone in your bag. “No, thanks.” 

“Do I have to drive you home?” 

“No, I’ve already called a Uber.” 

You see Haechan’s mouth move but nothing comes out and he only stretches his limbs. “I think that might take a while to arrive, though. It’s cold outside.” 

“It’s spring,” you say, walking to the mirror on wobbly legs to make sure you look decent, fixing your air and clothes. 

“It’s still cold. At least wait in the living room,” he proposes, now sitting on the mattress as he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. 

“I’ll be fine,” you smile, turning around, and holding your bag on your shoulder. “I survived walking in a wood at night when I was fifteen, I can survive waiting under your building’s porch.” 

“You’re always so — so,” he sighs, shaking his head, giving up finding an adjective to describe you. 

You chuckle, “Always? And you don’t know me yet.” 

“It sounds like a threat,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. 

You open the door, and take a step outside, only showing him your face as you wink, “Oh, it is.” 

Probably there was some magic in the air — the polluted air of the city made some kind of magic happen — but from then on, Haechan stopped holding back. He wasn’t shy when he texted you ‘house empty, wanna come over?’ leaving no doubts about what was going to happen if you said yes. You found it funny how he treated Mark like his parents, especially after you were sure he heard you fuck that night, but of course, you said yes. 

pathetic loser dinner at that trashy fast food place with the arcade and then dessert at my place😉 

And you said yes. 

pathetic loser i’m busy this friday but marks’s out saturday so we have the whole day to ourselves 

And you said yes. p.s: he made you come like ten times, so it was worth it. 

pathetic loser wanna skip the group hang out and fuck around? 

And you said yes. 

You kept saying yes until you also started asking, and he obviously didn’t decline. It flowed and usually, you didn’t like to leave things unnamed, but you were terrified that if you asked, ‘what are we?’ he would’ve run away scared or, worse, confessed with his big brown eyes and that fucking glint they had inside. 

You didn’t need him anyway to know what you were. Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, sex partners, or any other name you want to give it, you were that. Nothing more and nothing less. 

It still wasn’t your typical thing. You two never sat down and discussed anything, your dear boundaries were nowhere to be found, or better, they existed, somehow he respected them, but you never said them out loud. Not that it was hard to get them, when you never invited him home, never leaned in for a kiss, and never stayed over, he knew your limits and that he had to respect them. 

So, everything worked perfectly fine. 

Until your rules started to be broken one by one before you could even notice, or better, before you could care to fix all the changes that were happening in your life because of Haechan. 

pathetic loser hey

me and the boys are going on a trip to the coast this weekend 

wanna come along? 

you who are the boys? 

pathetic loser  yes, johnny is coming 

You roll your eyes at the screen before tapping a reply.

you didn’t ask that : / 

but yes, need some time off 

you will pick me up, right? 

pathetic loser  you’re so pretentious

don’t you think i should propose to you to come pick you up like a gentleman? 

you fine gentleman, pick me up at my place, see you this friday! 

pathetic loser  i can’t stand you 

It’s Johnny’s fault. It’s his house on the coast, his parents’, to be precise. It’s his fault if right now you have Haechan so close and can’t make a move because whatever is going on between you two is a secret. 

You’re still not sure why it wasn’t Johnny the one to invite you there, you wonder if maybe Haechan slipped and confessed to him that something is going on between you, but you’re sure that Johnny would’ve already bragged to you about how he made the ‘perfect match’ or how it was thanks to him you were finally getting laid, surely after screaming at you because ‘we never keep things a secret from each other’. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when a ball hits you and you lift your head to see Mark running to you, mumbling apologies as if he had stabbed you. 

“I’m fine, it’s just a ball,” you smile to reassure him and lift a hand to cover your eyes because the sun is annoying you. Unfortunately, the sun is not blinding you enough for your wishes because you can perfectly see Haechan playing volleyball a few meters in front of you. You’re sitting on the sand, a sundress on you, while the others left you to play. You weren’t in the mood, too busy letting your thoughts get the best of you, a mix of lewd images of what you would’ve done to the man you couldn’t drift your eyes from and sadness looming over your head like a cartoon cloud. 

“Hey, want something to drink?” You’re still so caught up that you don’t realize Haechan is talking to you. His blouse is big and covers his body, only leaving his arms exposed and a small portion of his chest — he doesn’t like to show much of his body — and you get lost in his sun-kissed skin another time, but when he calls your name, you shake your head and cough, trying to play it cool. 

“Yes, what?” 

“We’re grabbing something to drink, want some?” 

“Oh, yeah, some tea.” 

“Got it,” he says as if he’s accepting a commend and waves you goodbye before running to the others and you follow him with your gaze until he gets out of your line of view. 

You sigh, fanning yourself because even if luckily today the weather is not too hot, you still can’t stand the heat sticking to your skin. You’ve pondered before about jumping in the sea and freshening up, but if just seeing the others having fun had brought back too many — painful — memories, you’re not so sure you can take having ‘fun’ in person.  

“Here’s your tea,” Haechan says after a while with a bottle in hand, once again pulling you out of the tornado of melancholia that was drowning you. 

You smile, lifting your head and grabbing the drink from his hand. “Peach? How do you know it’s my favorite?” 

“You told me,” he replies, sitting next to you, a bit too close, but you don’t scoot over, you like the way your legs brush against each other and also the fact he decided to sit with you and not with your group of friends near the volleyball net. 

“Did I? When?” 

Haechan laughs at the surprised expression that creates a cute, small crease on your forehead and says, “the few times we had a serious conversation that didn’t include dirty talking?” 

You roll your eyes, open the lid and take a sip of the cold liquid, immediately feeling better. “You make it sound as if we don’t hang out normally.” 

“We do,” he replies but it’s like he’s not done, as if there’s something more he wants to tell or confess. He stops for a second, sipping on his bottle while staring at the sea at the horizon before resting his forearm on his knees and sighing, “but you never say anything about yourself.” 

You chuckle nervously, fingers fidgeting with the cap of the bottle. “What’s to know about me?” 

“Everything. You’re a secret.” 

You can hear the bittersweetness in his tone, and if you’d stare for a second more, you would also catch it in his eyes, but you dismiss him and the things he’s silently telling you with his body. You sneer under your breath and shake your shoulders before words roll from your mouth. “Secrets are exciting.” 

He nods, pressing his lips in a thin line to hold in a groan of disagreement. “When you know them and you have to keep them away from the rest of the world.” 

“You want to keep me away?” You joke tenderly, meeting his brown eyes, even warmer and more welcoming now that the sunlight is reflecting in them. 

He laughs, shaking his head. This time he’s the one diverting his gaze, the next words that are about to come out sound too vulnerable in his head and he doesn’t want to imagine how heavy they will sound out loud. “I’m just saying, I would keep some things of you only for me to know.” 

You hum, nodding while staring at the sand, showing nonchalance even if there’s a circus in your stomach. Maybe you can give him something without breaking another one of your rules, but you soon realize that he already knows the small things about you that you told him to get to know each other. He knows where you work, he knows you have a brother, and you know he has two and a sister. He knows you once found a grass snake in a park and took it home because you wanted a snake pet and your father almost threw you outside (affectionately, no kids or animals were hurt, you just had to give it back to nature). He knows your birthday and your favorite color. Isn’t that enough? 

“There’s nothing to know about me.” 

“Oh, yeah, you’re boring, aren’t you?” He mocks with sarcasm and his head falls back in annoyance. “You don’t strike as the bland type of person so try again.” 

“I just don’t get what you want to know. Ask me questions and I’ll answer.” And I’ll lie, that’s what you truly think. 

But Haechan shakes his head, gulping down another mouthful of water. “Nevermind, you don’t get it.” 

No, you don’t get it, or maybe you’re pretending not to get it, that he wants to know you. He wants to learn by watching, by studying you, but you always slip away, you don’t let him close. He doesn’t care about questions, this is not a quiz for him, but maybe that’s the fun of you. He has to work extra hard. And he will.

 “It’s pretty here.” Haechan’s voice fills the night air, it’s chilly outside, and you’re sitting on the small sofa under the porch. There’s nobody but the two of you at home, the others decided to go out and visit the small coastal town at night, but you were too tired to drag your feet any longer, and honestly, you thought you were all alone.

You hum, moving to the side to leave him some space next to you. “We used to come here during summer,” you let out, and it’s impossible to control the smile on your face when you remember your childhood with your and Johnny’s family. “I always sat here at night, I liked the quiet of the beach and the lights of the towns of the coast. My brother didn’t get it,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “he was too busy playing with Johnny. Even when they stopped being best friends, it was like something shifted in summer. Something about this place feels… different.” 

Haechan smiles, he’s not staring at the view, his eyes are locked on you. He thinks that you are different here. He can’t say you two aren’t close, but it’s clear you never let him too close, and he’d like to know why. He knows exactly where your relationship stands, it’s just sex, and he’s fine like this, really, but he wonders if you only do it to protect your heart from unwanted inconveniences or if you don’t trust him enough to let him in. He often thought about prying it with Johnny, but he knows that as soon as your name will slip out of his lips, Johnny will twist everything, and probably that would drift you even further from him. You never had a conversation but it’s clear you both want to keep this between you. 

“It feels like the world stops here,” he says instead to don’t let the conversation die before moving his gaze away, hearing you hum an affirmative response. 

It really feels like time has stopped, and there’s undefined electricity running between you, it’s the same as always and it’s different at the same time. 

“Johnny didn’t tell me about this,” you breathe out; you know it could end in a catastrophe, but you need answers. “Did he ask you to invite me, or did you do it?” 

Haechan doesn’t answer right away, you see him gulp and you fear the worst. There it is, the confession you don’t need, you don’t want it, because he is the best sex you ever had, nobody ever made you feel like that, he completely unplugs your brain and for a few hours, you can leave all your problems at the door, and also because after all, he’s a good friend, and love would screw this all up. 

“He told me I could invite some other of our friends,” he replies, “and I asked about you, and he told me I could ask. He was going to invite you, but I did it first,” he explains, playing with a loose string of his shorts that are barely covering his thighs. “Why?” 

You shrug, it’s the only thing you can do, a breath of relief would be too obvious. “Nothing, I was just wondering. Usually, he organizes these things with me.” 

“Oh,” he whispers, “I think that initially it was supposed to be a boys’ thing only, then Mark brought up Minjeong and here we are.” 

You know he doesn’t mean it that way, but that ‘here we are’ makes shivers run down your spine. Because here you are. This is the closest thing to breaking rule number 3 and 4 and so many others. It’s just the two of you, watching the sunset while the sea plays its melody just for you to listen. This is romantic. He’s not fucking you shamelessly under the porch where everyone can see. You are laughing together, passing a bottle of soju, and sharing touches that feel too intimate. You can’t break any more rules. 

“I was thinking — oh, shit,” Haechan mumbles before you shut him up by jumping on him and crashing his lips on yours, your fingers locking immediately in his hair and pulling it back harshly. “Wow, fuck, needy tonight?” 

You don’t reply, your lips move down to bite his neck while your hips start grinding on him. 

“Calm down, damn, I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, wrapping his hands on your waist now that the shock is gone, “and don’t mark me, you don’t want the others to find out, right?” 

No, you don’t. Or maybe you do, maybe it’s time for something to happen and break you and him apart. Cause you feel you’re going down a slippery slope and you don’t like this. Maybe you should fuck this whole thing up like you always do. But you can’t, deep down, you don’t want to. 

“It’s only been a week,” Haechan mumbles through the kiss. “You’re so needy.” 

“Can you just shut up?” You argue, pressing your hips down on him, smirking when you feel his dick start to press up against you. “So, you do want me.” 

He snorts, “Of course, I do. I wasn’t rejecting, I was just pointing out — fuck,” he whimpers breathlessly when you bite his lips and his nails dig in the exposed skin of your back, your crop top leaving so much bare. 

“Want you,” you say as if you have to make it any more obvious. 

“It’s a bit too public, don’t you think so?” 

You shake your head, moving a hand between your bodies to open the button of your shorts but he stops you again, forcing your hands behind your back, catching you by surprise. 

“I’d love to fuck you right here, in front of the sea and the sunset, but if one of our friends comes back before time, we’re fucked with no way out, so… can we take it inside?” 

You nod, mumbling a faint positive answer, thinking of getting up and running upstairs, but Haechan has no intention of breaking the contact. He lifts you up after freeing your hands so you can secure them around his neck and then pushes the front door open. 

“Let’s give it a turn of keys,” he says, twisting the keys in the lock so you’ll have extra time if by the time they’ll come back you won’t be done. You wait patiently, enjoying the way it feels to be in his arms, and let him carry you on the second floor where the bedroom you share is. Was it a great thing or a curse, you still can’t tell, but for now it seems like a good thing. 

When you cross the doorframe, the clothes are on the floor in less than a minute and your bodies are already tangled in the bedsheets, hands running on each other with eager and soft whimpers filling those four walls. 

You don’t keep track of how long you spend kissing — or eating each other — but you’re sure a few minutes pass by of you just grinding against each other while your tongues and lips meet in a mess. 

“Fuck,” Haechan whispers, his hot breath puffing against your warm, wet, now plumper, lips. “Com’ere.” He lays on the bed, patting the space next to his face and you stare at him with confused eyes. He sighs, “On my face, honey. On my face.” 

“Oh.” 

He quirks a brow. “You were so eager before, what happened?” 

You shake your head, moving closer to him, planting your knees at the sides of his chest. “I was, I mean, I am, I want you.” 

“So? On my face.” 

“I — I don’t…” 

Haechan’s eyes roll back and a heavy annoyed groan comes out of his mouth, “Oh God, don’t tell me your ex never done that?”

“Hyuck, he would rarely eat me out while I was laying, do you think he would make me sit on his face?” 

“Asshole.”  

“Haechan!” 

“He’s an asshole, you know it! But I’m not, so come here and sit on your throne.” 

“You didn’t just call your face my throne?” Your tone is a mix of annoyance and incredulity, but you actually found that too hot to handle. 

“I very much did. And now, do I have to drag you or will you fucking sit?” 

You gulp, nodding swiftly, but your legs are slower at moving next to his face and he doesn’t like your hesitation. You yelp when his hands grab your ass and your thigh and pull you right where he wanted you. 

“Was it that hard?” He asks teasingly, almost growling so close to your skin, before winking at your flustered face. 

The sight of him under you, and his breath colliding with your pussy, make your knees tremble already. “No — no.” 

“Good. But you still didn’t listen,” he says sternly.

“I did, I’m on your face,” you defend. 

“Are you sitting?” 

“No.” 

“What are you waiting for? Do I have to do everything tonight?” His tone is getting lower, and the edge of anger in it causes your pussy to clench around nothing. 

“But I will… I will break your neck.” 

“And I will die like a man,” he insists, challenging you with a glare.

“No, it’s —” 

His mad, animalistic, growl on your pussy when he forcefully slams you on him makes you choke on a moan and throw your head back while your hands automatically grab the headboard to hold onto something. Haechan tends to always be messy when he eats you out, he never does things you don’t like, but he has to make sure you know he’s enjoying it, so he’s always a bit messier and louder than he has to be. But this time he’s taking his everything to let you know how badly he wants you. His fingers are planted on your skin, his nose is pressing right against your clit while his tongue moves to leave kitten licks that quickly turn into open-mouthed kisses. 

“Fuck,” you moan, hands clenching tight around the bar, and head falling down to see him. His eyes are closed and he’s having the time of his life as he sucks at your clit and lips with eagerness. 

“You’re so hot from here,” he mumbles, stopping only for a second to catch his breath before he resumes his movements. His pink muscle moves down, teasing your entrance, slurping up the juices that are dripping out of you, and when your thighs clench around his head in response, he groans gutturally.

You think you hurt him and try to pull up, but he forces you down with strength. 

“Don’t fucking move,” he growls, glaring at you, and you can only hum in reply, feeling your body melt under his skilled movements. 

When Haechan’s lips dare to move down on your sensitive rim, you jolt, but he’s fast at keeping you in place, his hands on your thighs as he presses them down and sends you a daring glare. 

“Hae — I don’t think…” 

“Yeah, exactly, don’t think,” he snarls, the movements on you getting sloppier and louder, making you start to grind against him unconsciously. 

Moans choke you up as he explores new things with you, sending you into a new dimension. You can’t fully comprehend you’re sitting on top of his face while he messily eats out your pussy and your ass. You can’t believe he’s moaning under you, holding you tight, one hand busy touching your ass while the other wonders on your upper chest caressing your waist and your boobs. 

You feel high and drunk on him. So much you can barely mutter a warning before you come, shaking on top of him, your movements are frenetic as you reach your peak while cries of his name slur out of your mouth with low moans. A tear almost slips from your eyes when Haechan doesn’t stop right away and keeps stimulating your sensitive spots, it’s too much and you collapse on the other side, trying to catch your breath. 

Haechan chuckles, licking up your juices before rubbing his nose against your neck. “Fuck, I’d eat you out for days,” he comments, rubbing his hands on your stomach. “You’re so pretty when you moan and squirm, whether on top of me or under, and you taste so good.” 

“You never let me pay you back.” 

He giggles, kissing you, “you don’t have to.” 

“But maybe I want to,” you pout. You can’t deny that you live for how much Haechan loves giving you oral, but you enjoy sucking him off just as much. You love how he lets you have control, how husky and warm his moans are, and you love when his hands weakly wrap around your hair… well, he only let you do it once but you had the time of your life and that never happened when you went down with your ex so… 

“Have you ever tried anal?” He asks out of nowhere, surprising you. 

“With someone? No. By myself… maybe…” 

He raises a brow while a smirk curls his lips. “Maybe? What kind of answer is that?” 

“I did,” you confess, feeling shy all of a sudden.  

“Uh,” he coos, poking your side playfully, “had fun?” 

You lick your lips, shrugging. “Fine, I did. I think I like it, but it might be different with, you know, a real person.” 

“Would you try?” He asks timidly, looking at you with puppy eyes. As if he has to beg to make you do something, as if he doesn’t know you would try anything with him. 

“Yeah, why not.”

“Good, fuck,” he kisses you after letting out the breath he was holding in. “Wanna fuck your ass,” he whispers against your neck, but you can feel the ear-to-ear smile on his face, “wanna be your first time.” 

You’d dwell on how cheesy that sounds a bit more if only it wasn’t for his hands groping your ass and squeezing hard while he ruts against your thigh like a pup in heat. 

“You’re pathetic,” you mock playfully, tugging his hair back, eliciting a broken moan from him.  

“And you’re hot,” he breathes out, moving on top of you to shush you with a kiss while his right arm falls under the bed to search for something. “Been thinking about this all day. You looked so pretty in that short white dress.” 

A small smile paints on your face, but it drops when he keeps rummaging in his bag next to the bag. “Can’t you get up to get, I guess, the lube?” 

“No,” he almost growls. “Want you.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, come on, need you to fuck me.” 

“You’re so impatient,” he groans, “but I got it!” He lifts his hand, showing you the small bottle of lube and you snicker at his proud smile. 

“You’re such a loser, you’re lucky you’re with me because anybody else would’ve been out of the door by now.” 

“And they would lose the best dick of their life, so, dumb decision,” Haechan says before his lips crash on yours again. “And you’re not that dumb, right?” 

You shake your head, already feeling your breathing get shorter when his lube-covered fingers start playing with your rim. 

“You looked so, so fucking hot in that short sundress, fuck,” he moans, pulling away to sit between your legs, he pushes a finger inside and you bite back a moan. “Wanted to press you against the handrail and fuck you right there on the restaurant balcony.” 

Your head rolls back, thinking of that afternoon. The tension between you could be cut with a knife, and there was something thrilling about the way you couldn’t keep your eyes — and hands — off each other and still had to keep it a secret. 

“You should’ve,” you breathe out, choking on your words when he starts fucking you with another finger, curling them inside and stretching you to get your hole ready for him. 

“Yeah? You would’ve liked it?”

You nod, staring into his eyes with a teasing glare. “Maybe I should’ve sat on top of you,” you stop to swallow, eyes squeezing when he brushes his thumb on your dripping pussy and starts teasing it, “on your lap and tried to — to keep it cool.”

He smirks, tilting his head before he pulls his fingers out. “I think you’re ready for me. You always are, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

You are, but when his thick cock pushes into you it still takes your breath away. Your fingers and your little purple toy can’t compare to him, they don’t fill you like this, and they don’t feel so good. 

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb on your waist in circular motions, “taking me all like a good girl.” 

You bite back a groan and throw your head back, breathing deeper and longer before you reach his hand and beg him to move. 

Haechan sneakers, “only if you keep telling me your little fantasy.” 

“I — I don’t think I can,” you confess; he’s barely moving into you, only making circular motions brushing against your sensitive spot, and you already feel weak. 

“I’m sure you can,” he smiles, “I didn’t fuck you dumb, yet.” 

Your holes clench at his words and you gather your sanity to keep talking. “Sitting on your lap, trying to — trying not to fuck up and down on your dick,” you force out when he keeps his promise and starts moving in and out, gripping your hips tight to angle you just how he knows you like it best. 

“You think you can resist it? Stay on my dick without moving?” 

“Ye-yes.” 

He laughs, throwing his head back as he starts snapping his hips faster. “You’re so confident, baby. I would love to see it all fall down.”

“But if I did, they would find out.” 

“Yeah, and think about it, I’d bend you over the table while everyone watches you get fucked dumb. Would you say no?” 

You nod, failing to give him a stronger verbal answer.  

“Liar,” he spits out, grabbing your thighs to push them up. “Every time I fuck you with Mark in the other room you moan even louder.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Oh, no?” He tsks, cupping your cheeks. “Honey, you love putting on shows. Or is it just for me?” 

“For you,” you confess, voice muffled by the pression he’s applying on your face.

The smirk that curls his lips is smug and cocky. “That little dress was for me?” 

You nod and his smile grows bigger before it turns into a pout.

“I didn’t get to take it off.” 

“You were supposed to — fuck — to fuck me in it,” you mumble, catching your breath when his hold on you loosens. 

“Next time,” he groans, “or maybe tomorrow.” 

You don’t reply, only cry out louder when you come unexpectedly, taking you both by surprise. 

“I’m — I’m sorry, it — shit — it felt too good, I,” you don’t truly know how to justify yourself because you don’t know why you’re so sensitive tonight. 

“Shut up,” Haechan stops you with a kiss, “I know you can’t help it when you’re with me.” 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you retort, rolling your eyes. 

“But you love it,” he smirks. “Come here.” He pulls out of you, slapping your thigh as he orders you to sit up. “Want me to fuck you hard?”

You nod, crawling to him at the end of the bed on your own, cupping his face to pull him in a rough kiss as your fingers slip in his hair, and his hands reach your asscheeks, shamelessly parting them before he spanks you hard. 

“Can you take it?” He asks against your lips, rubbing his thumb against your jaw before he brushes it on your open mouth, staring into your eyes. 

“Ye-yes,” you say but your voice is shaking. When his hand wraps around your neck to tease a kiss that he never gives you, you frown, and he snorts. 

“You’re so cute, you know?” His patronizing tone makes more wetness drool down your thighs but you still find the strength to push his buttons. 

“And you’re hard, you didn’t come once, yet. Shouldn’t you fix this?” 

He doesn’t reply, he pushes you onto the bed, making you face the only mirror in the room, it’s not extremely close to the bed but you’re sure it will do for whatever he has in mind.

“I think you’re so pretty when I touch you, kiss you, tease you,” he whispers against your ear, “fuck you,” he fucks into you without warning, and you gasp, “it’s a shame you don’t get to see it. To watch your pride slip out of you every time that I’m inside you.” 

Your head rolls down when he starts fucking into you faster than before but he shakes his head, clicks his tongue, and pushes you up with a tug on the makeshift ponytail. “You’re not running away from me, babe,” he says. “You might not let me into your true self but I have you turned inside out when you’re under me.” 

You blink your eyes, staring at him through the mirror, feeling small because you feel like you can’t keep up with his gaze. Haechan has control, he does have you in the palm of your hand, now, only when he fucks you, and you can’t care to mind. 

You want him to fuck you until there’s nothing more in your brain. You want him to know all the small things that make you feel good. Because nobody before him even wanted to know them, to own you like this, and you don’t want him to stop. 

“Look at you,” he whispers, biting your earlobe, “is it so terrible to not have everything under control?” You feel a hint of bitterness in his voice, almost as if he’s mad at you for not letting go like this under other circumstances. “You don’t have to worry about anything.” 

“With you,” you cry out, shaking a tear away and gritting your teeth when he hits you deeper and you feel your body on fire again.

“Yes, with me,” he says. “You don’t have to think about anything when you’re with me. I’ve got you.” 

You almost scream because you hate how much comfort you feel at his words, they don’t sound sexual, not even now that his rutting into you at a fast speed, fucking your ass with so much force that the bed is squeaking and the slaps of your skin against each other fill the room. Even now, something about him makes you feel in the right safe place and you’re not sure this is how you’re supposed to feel while being railed by your friend with benefits. 

You shake your head, forcing your eyes open as you stare at him in the mirror. “Harder,” you whisper, sinking your nails in the crumpled sheets under you. 

“Harder?” He mocks. “Are you sure?” 

You nod, pushing your ass up, trying to provoke him into giving you more. 

“If you say so.” His hand moves hesitantly on your neck, he doesn’t apply pressure, he just keeps you in his hold as he fucks into you with rhythmic, deep, and breath-taking thrusts. A low grunt escapes from his lips when your eyes roll back for a moment and you start to be more vocal, mouth staying parted and chest rising swiftly as you gasp for air. 

You are a vision. And he could get lost in that. 

“You — fuck — feel like heaven, baby,” he groans, “and look so pretty with no thoughts in your brain.” His voice hits right beside your ear and sends shivers down your spine, the eye contact through the reflecting surface makes you melt, tighten the knot in your stomach and almost come on the spot. 

Haechan chuckles, kissing your cheeks in a mockingly delicate motion. “Were you about to come again, honey?” 

You shake your head, lying blatantly because you know that if you give it to him, he won’t shut up. But he knows you were.

“Yes, you were,” he taunts with a sharp laugh. “What did I say about holding it back?” 

“But I — I can’t, fuck,” you cry out. “Too much, can’t take another one.” 

“Yes, you can,” he orders. “Come for me, and then I’ll show you, you’ll come again.” 

The last thing you want to do is listen to him but he’s a sneaky piece of shit that knows you too well, and when two fingers rub against your clit and two others pass from your neck to your mouth, forcing you to suck them, your orgasm explode before you can even try to fight it. 

“I fucking — ugh — hate you,” you cry out, still shaking from the pleasure, writhing under him, shaking your head when he cleans his fingers on your chin. 

“The mess on your face is nothing compared to the mess between your legs. You know, right?” 

Yes, you do. You can feel your pussy drip an embarrassing amount of cum, and you know how much your hole is clenching around him. But it’s not your fault. 

The sounds that come from his mouth are pure condescending mockery as he smirks down at you. “Can’t answer me anymore?” 

You’re about to open your mouth but he shuts you up with an open hand on it. “I don’t want to hear you. I don’t need to hear you to know you’re going dumb on my cock.” 

You muffle something but it’s in vain, and his eyes glint when you give up in two seconds. 

“You’re right,” he groans, “something is different about this place. You never let me have so much — fuck — so much control over you. You never let me fuck you this good, like you deserve.”

You’d like to complain. Because if he thinks that your past fucks weren’t this good, he’s dead wrong. But when your eyes lock, you get he’s still talking about something else. It’s not about the sex or the many orgasms, it’s about you. You didn’t talk back, you didn’t roll your eyes when he called you ‘pretty’ or ‘beautiful’, and you’re not running away even if he’s all over you. You get lost in his bites and kisses on your shoulders, on his hands on your skin, and his words filling your brain. 

“Wouldn’t fuck you in front of the others,” Haechan grunts. He’s picking a brutal pace and you feel like you could break, but moans are still coming out of your mouth, hoarse and needy. “They don’t deserve to see you like this,” he groans, slipping a hand under you, reaching your clit, and making you yelp. “This is only for me. This is mine to see.” 

Your eyes roll back. The possessiveness in his voice shouldn’t make you feel things, but it does, it gets your inside to twist and your heart to race and your cunt to clench around nothing even more. You feel like your chest could explode when he keeps repeating that you’re his and his only and you can tease everybody else as long as you want but no one will ever make you feel like he does. His pace on your clit speeds up, while his head falls in the crook of your neck, and then his hips still, the orgasm hits you at the same time and your bodies freeze as the pleasure buzzes through your bones, his hand falls from your mouth and you gasp for air while he collapses on top of you. 

You start breathing in synch, and you enjoy the sensation of his chest on your back, but that doesn’t last long. He’d love to stay there some more, but your friends might come back in minutes now, and he truly doesn’t want anyone else to even get a glimpse of you like this. So he rolls to the side, turning his head to stare at you while he dares to caress your back with his hand. You never let him do it, he had tried, he thought aftercare was essential and that after everything he put you through you deserved more than just a simple ‘are you okay?’ followed by your positive answer before you slipped to run back home or if he was lucky only in the bathroom before you came back to sleep next to him, as far as possible. 

But this time you don’t glare at him, and you don’t move away, you move closer, not much, but for you is a lot, and you keep your eyes closed while your left hand searches for his body shily, you don’t touch him, it’s just a brush of your fingers against his stomach, but it makes his heart jump in his throat. 

“I think…” he whispers, stopping when your eyes flutter open, terrified he ruined something, but you don’t talk, “I think we should shower, so we can be asleep when they come home.” 

You smile, stretching and covering your mouth when you yawn. “If you carry me,” you mumble. “I can’t walk.” 

He chuckles and then sits up. “It’s my fault so, yeah, I’ll carry you.” 

Nothing changes after that small summer trip. You go back and start being stressed once again and the only relief you have is Haechan. Some days are so stressful that you beg for him to come pick you up at work so you can eat something outside and then head back to his apartment to fuck. 

Yeah, to fuck. 

That is always the original plan, the only thing you need him for. You feel bad for some time treating him like a living dildo, but isn’t it what you two are for each other? You know there’s respect, and care, not love, never love, but other than being friends, when you meet up alone there’s just sex. 

That’s what it’s supposed to be. 

But then those things turn into… something else. You think it started one night when you came to his place but couldn’t jump on each other because he got a phone call he couldn’t decline, and you had to sit on the couch. You could’ve been a tease and started masturbating in front of him but that thought didn’t even cross your mind. You sat there, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv, hoping to catch something to keep you entertained, and you did. It was one of your favorite movies and when Haechan ended the call and sat next to you, you both had forgotten why you were there. 

Just like right now. It’s a Friday night and you came to his place to spend an evening together. No, you didn’t break any rules, it’s just a simple movie night. After you found out you both have an interest in films you couldn’t stop thinking about it, so it was an excuse to watch and discuss some movies together. 

“Hi,” Haechan opens the door, and he looks wrecked. You panic seeing him because it looks like he fought with a bear with bare hands, he’s sweating, and his hair is a mess, and your heart clenches in your chest… is he fucking — “I cooked.” 

Oh, he cooked. 

That made perfect sense, but it doesn’t make sense that you panicked at the idea of him with another girl, almost feeling sick to your stomach and about to throw up. You mentally slap yourself and smile as big as you can before making your way in. Suddenly regretting that you can’t slam him against the couch and ride him until you both pass out. 

“Last time chips hurt your stomach, so I made fries, and some small pizzas,” he exclaims, disappearing in the kitchen before showing up again with his hands full. “I hope you like this.” Haechan almost passes out when he sees the smile on your face, it’s so big and he swears he never saw you smile like that, but the moment of happiness doesn’t last because that smile disappears after your thanks. 

It’s another mental slap to yourself and your heart for beating so damn hard. It’s just snacks, anybody would have done that, right? Except you know damn well it’s not true. Your ex never cared about the few things your stomach hated and kept you up at night. Sometimes even Johnny forgot you couldn’t eat chips for God knows whatever reason. And it is annoying to fry and turn on the oven when he could’ve just opened a bag and eaten. 

Haechan is a good person. You justify. He is. You know it. He’s kind, good with kids, doesn’t know how to cook but he tries (for you), and when you tell him something makes you uncomfortable, he always tries to fix it as soon as he can, he’s perf—

“We should eat before it gets cold, then,” you almost scream, scaring him because you were dead silent in your thoughts for too long. 

And Haechan thinks he will never get you. But it’s fine like this. You are to discover, and he likes it. It’s thrilling, and every small step deeper into you feels like the biggest of the rewards. But he wonders when, and if, he will ever reach your core. 

For now, it’s fine like this, as you sit on the couch with the food in front of you and the movie you picked starts playing on the screen. 

After those movie nights, you should leave. You never set them too late for that reason, so you can drive back home before midnight. It’s easy to do, you’re just a bit tired but your legs are not shaking post-orgasm, your heart is not jumping out of your ribcage and you’re not leaking cum. 

It is easy. 

Yet, you stop doing it. 

“Why don’t you stay?” 

You should leave. Just like you did that one time he woke up with you and asked you to stay for breakfast. You were late. And right now, you can’t be late, but tomorrow you need to be home before nine because you have something important to do. It’s an easy lie to tell, he doesn’t know anything about you anyway. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper and Haechan looks taken aback. Of course, he is, that’s not a typical response of you. You would’ve screamed something at him, acting like a dog when someone crosses its personal space, barking left and right (not the nicest comparison he had told you — yes, he did — but you couldn’t get mad cause he was right). “I don’t have a toothbrush or my towels.” 

You realize that you broke another rule when Haechan stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. That’s the reason why you can’t stay. And the way those words came out of your mouth shows that you’re almost — he learned he has to be careful with you — sad for it. 

“I have a spare one,” he says before you can go back to your true self, “it can be yours.” 

That toothbrush eventually becomes yours. It sits there, right next to his, and every time you get up in the morning to escape from his bed, you’re reminded of all the lines you’ve crossed. You didn’t bring it from home, he fucking gave a toothbrush to you, and he doesn’t keep it scored somewhere in case you need it, no, it stays right there, always, next to his, as if it belongs there.  

You know it doesn’t, it feels weird, romantic, and domestic, and fuck it, you never left any of your belongings in your ex-boyfriend’s apartment. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to take it out and throw it away. 

It’s because you might need it. 

Yes, you might need it. 

That’s what you tell yourself. 

Things start going downhill when you break rule number 3. 

Technically you didn’t break it. 

You didn’t exactly invite him over. 

A phone call at midnight while drunk-you slurred out incomprehensible words and sobbed like a child to whom somebody just stole their favourite teddy bear can’t be considered an invite, right? In your defense, when he hung off the call, making you sob even harder cause you thought you fucked it up another time, you weren’t expecting the bell to ring ten minutes later. And when you dragged your body to the door, you didn’t expect to find him standing there, his nightwear only covered with a jacket, his hair a mess, and his breath short, a clear sign he rushed to your place. 

“Are you okay?” Haechan asks worriedly, shaking your shoulders to make sure you’re alive and not a creation of his imagination. 

If you were your usual you, you would’ve slapped him. Wasn’t it clear that you are not fine? But you’re not there tonight, so you say something else. 

“I’m sorry,” you sob, tears streaming down your face as you feel guiltier than ever, “I didn’t know who to call.” 

If you were your usual you, you would’ve been able to see the glint that crossed Haechan’s eyes at your words, probably even to hear his heart skip a beat and his hands shake for a brief moment, but again, you are not there tonight. 

“What happened?” He asks, trying to appear calm but he’s not calm at all. You are vulnerable, you. And out of all the people to be vulnerable with, you chose him. 

“I’m an asshole,” you mumble, letting your body fall into his arms, face hiding in the crook of his neck while you let go to a nervous cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m here now. Should we sit?” 

You nod, but you’re not really giving orders to your body when he drags you to the couch and lets you cuddle up next to him, shushing you and rubbing circles on your back. 

“I never do anything right,” you mutter, holding yourself closer to him, hoping you’ll disappear into him and won’t have to face another day. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“But you don’t know me, you… if I only… if you only knew all my flaws you would run away, even if between us was just sex.” 

Haechan’s face twists in pain as he looks down at you, only seeing your hair because your face is still pressed against his chest. “Cause it’s not?” 

“We’re friends, but you…” your words die in your mouth, trying to give an order to all the things that are running in your head. “I try to fix things and then they go wrong, and how do I stop being a bad person? How do I stop hurting everybody?” 

“Who did you hurt?” 

“I mean… I am hurt, but I… is he manipulating, or am I truly a bitch?” 

Haechan can’t follow you, he wants to be a support, but you aren’t giving him clues about anything that is going on and he’s terrified of crossing boundaries, especially now that he has you so close and honest in his arms. This feels more intimate than all the sex you shared, and it’s scarier. 

“Who are you talking about?” He dares to ask, losing the hold on you when you sit up, moving away from his body, not much, your legs are still pressed together, and you search for his hand for comfort. 

“My ex.” 

“Your ex?” 

You nod, biting your lips just to prevent another terrible sound to roll out. “I started thinking… about us and why we didn’t work out, and… there were so many things that didn’t sit right. I don’t think I was crazy over him, but I… I’ve always respected him. He surely wasn’t the love of my life but fuck,” at that you break down again, turning your face to the side because even if you’re in the middle of a breakdown you can’t be so vulnerable to Haechan’s eyes. “We’ve been together for a year and a half and only now, because I asked for more closure, he told me he used me just for sex. And as the dumbass pathetic mess I am, I… we… we used to fuck.” 

Haechan’s jaw tenses as he listens to you, it’s probably not his place to syndicate since you two are using each other for the same reason, but it’s mutual and consensual. He coughs and then speaks when you don’t explain more. “After?”

“What?” 

“You went back to him after the breakup… to fuck?”  

“Yes,” you cry out, voice coming out in a yelp. And you know you look like a mess, tears and snot staining your face, but you can’t control your emotions anymore. You feel stupid. Every time you let your sentiments have the best, life proves you shouldn’t do it. 

Haechan sighs, taking you back in his hold, letting you go off in his embrace. He doesn’t talk, not sure of what to say, and let silence pass by, lulling you, and drawing circles in your hair. Only when you’ve calmed down a bit he talks. “Why are you the bad person in this?” 

“Cause he told me I’m insufferable. He said he loved me at first but… every day with me was ‘killing him’ or whatever. Because I… I like things done a certain way, I like order, I… I can’t let my life go into shambles, Hyuck. I’ve lived the worst days of my life because I had lost control, I feared I wasn’t going to make it out alive only because I wasn’t mentally there anymore, because I wasn’t in control. I let people walk over me and put myself last. I can’t go back there, I can’t.” 

“You’re not insufferable for being honest. You’re sincere about what you feel, not the type of person that hides behind honesty to make fun of others or to push them out of their comfort zone. I mean, surely sometimes it’s a lot when you want to have so much control over things, and how badly you react at times when a minor thing doesn’t go as planned. But I think that there are some flaws the people that love us should learn and comprehend, and either decide it’s not a weight for them or be frank and break up. Not everyone can carry the baggage that we bring with us, and that’s fine.” 

You sniffle, knowing he’s right, but also feeling that nobody seems to be able, or willing to even try, to carry the baggage you carry with you. 

“Would you date me?” That was the alcohol talking, and the heartbreak, and Haechan knows it. But he doesn’t know how drunk and heartbroken you are. He doesn’t know if this is a tricky question, if you would’ve remembered it the next morning and instead of taking it as a friend supporting you, it would’ve caused you two to drift apart. He doesn’t want to lose you, so he circles around it the best he can. 

“Your value is not in the people who would date you or not, not even in those who did, like your ex.”

“Yes but, isn’t this the same? I am using you for sex, I’m doing the same.” 

“It’s not the same. We want this, and we’re friends. I’m here, supporting you. I don’t think he supported you that much while technically you were dating, am I wrong?” 

“No, you’re right. I should’ve seen the signs.” 

“We’re all good once things are done, but we can’t blame ourselves from the past. You were in love, it doesn’t matter that you weren’t madly in love, you never disrespected him. While he made you believe he loved you, and in reality, he stopped feeling that and still used you. So, who’s the asshole here?” 

“Him,” you whisper with a shaky voice. 

“Good, that’s my good girl,” he praises, caressing your cheeks and wiping the tears away with his thumb. “See, you can see things clearly after the storm.” 

You hum, a small smile plastering on your face before you cuddle closer to him. You take a deep breath, inhaling his perfume and you feel at peace. “You know I like you, right? Like, I respect you and care for you.” 

Haechan’s smile goes from ear to ear, deep down he does, but he would’ve never expected you to say it out loud. “I know, even if you run away from my bed as if I bite you.” 

You laugh, hiding your face against his chest and your fingers tighten around his shirt. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine, I’m used to an empty bed anyway, so it’s not much of a difference when I wake up and don’t find you there.” 

Your head rolls up, chin pressing between his sternum as your eyes meet his. “Mind not waking up to an empty bed tomorrow?” 

“Mh?” 

“Can you please stay the night?” You ask shily, voice quivering. “I know I’m selfish, but I need someone with me.” 

Haechan smiles, “It’s not selfish, that’s what friends do.” 

That’s what friends do. 

Cleaning your smudged makeup and tears. 

Giving you water and an aspirin. 

Helping you clean your body and even apply moisturizer. 

Taking care of your hair. 

Putting you in clean nightwear. 

Whispering a song to your ear to make you fall asleep. 

Holding you close the entire night, so you don’t have nightmares. 

Yeah, that’s what friends do. 

You know Haechan has a… sparkling personality. He’s chatty, outgoing, and friendly with everyone. He’s not so different from Johnny, so you two get along well because you grew up with your best friend starting conversations even with walls, it doesn’t annoy you when Haechan does the same. 

Well, it didn’t annoy you. 

Other than that, Haechan has this tendency of flirting with pretty much everyone — of age, and that doesn’t give signs of discomfort — not so different than you, so you couldn’t get mad at him for that, right? Those flirty remarks are jokes, silly things that fit into the moment and that he says just for funny purposes, right? 

You aren’t so sure about it. And you aren’t even sure why you care so much. That sensation at the pit of your stomach every time he talks with someone else, touches them, or winks and smirks, is not normal. You know he’s going to take you home and fuck you all night, giving you exactly what you ask for, so why do you feel like this? 

“This place is dope.” Mark’s voice rings loudly in your ear, and his body touches yours as he messily sits next to you on the bench, dragging you out of the intense staring competition you were having with yourself, Haechan and his new friend’s body. 

“Yeah, Johnny always finds the best places,” you force out, gripping the empty glass in your hands tighter and obligating yourself to look around and not go back to Haechan and that fake blonde girl that is all over him. 

“Seems like someone’s having fun,” Mark laughs, looking in front of you and you curse mentally because you know who he’s referring to, and right now you wish Haechan wasn’t having the time of his life. “Johnny made a match for himself and for Hyuck too, the only one missing is you.” 

You chuckle, looking at the floor, sighing deeply before you decide that it’s better to divert the conversation from you. “Where’s Minjeong?” 

“Oh, she’s at home, actually I’ll leave in a few minutes cause I have to go to her place,” he says with a smile on his face and you think it’s cute how he reacts when she’s brought up. He’s so madly in love and she is too, when they come along they make you wish you had what they had, for two seconds, just two. “Also doing Channie a favour, you know,” he winks and then chuckles, but you don’t find the implications funny, and your stomach twitches in discomfort. 

Did Haechan ask him to leave the house empty or is he just being playful? And what if you won’t be the one Haechan takes home? 

“I don’t think he’s going home with her,” you say, barely hiding the bitter tone. It’s not an opinion, you’re manifesting because you can’t bear that thought, but Mark is not on your track and he snickers again. 

“Think they’ll end up doing it in the bathroom or the car?” 

You force out a laugh while replying, “God, I hope not.” But you’re dying inside and you wish Mark would leave so you can run outside, slap yourself, go back inside and find somebody else to fuck that night and put your dumb brain — or heart, but you’re not ready to accept that just yet — to sleep. 

“I think he will last until home, he’s not a fan of doing it in unpractical places, dirty or too risky.” 

“Is the car risky?” 

“Yes,” he replies as if he’s shocked by your underestimation. “People know what goes on even if they can’t see, and then it moves and fogs and it’s… embarrassing. Haechan has never been that attracted to somebody to the point of fucking in a car, he’d rather go home with his balls blue.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Too much information,” you joke, shrugging off how your body heated up, and Mark apologies through laughter before standing up. 

“Sorry again. Man, I’m used to making fun of him with him and got carried away.” 

“It’s fine, I’m a grown woman, sex doesn’t traumatize me,” you reassure but your dumb heart is beating weirdly faster in your chest, and the awareness that Haechan never done it with anybody else, that he also broke one of his unspoken rules for you, is driving you insane. 

Now you’d like to get up and drag him by the hair and ask him if he would fuck her in a car but you don’t, you can’t. So you say your goodbyes to Mark and then stand up to walk to the bar, some alcohol will do. 

“Hey, pretty,” a man’s voice speaks from the side; barely five minutes of peace and you are already crowded with unwanted attention. 

“Hi,” you reply back, trying to bite back the bitterness of your voice, whoever that man is, he isn’t the man you want to reach your side. 

“All alone here?” 

You roll your eyes at his lame pick-up words and at the hint of the smirk you can hear in his voice. “I’m with friends, just need to cool down for a bit.” 

“Oh, all dating and all over each other while they forget about you,” he jokes and only then you turn around. Partially true, but being left alone by your friends had never been a problem, you always found someone that wanted to dance with you, even right now you have this man — a handsome man, with black hair, tanned skin, and a somehow not creepy smile — hitting on you but he isn’t the man you want. 

“I’m not actually,” you lie, you don’t even know why. You could’ve said yes, flirted with him a bit more, ground against each other for a while before going home, to his place, wait, to his place? What if he was a murderer? And with what car? You should’ve called a Uber, or worst, slept over. But soon you realize his bed isn’t the bed you want to fall asleep into after some draining orgasms. The idea of even being at his place makes your skin crawl and you push down a groan when two brown eyes, auburn hair and bronze skin fill your thoughts instead. 

“Then why are you alone? You’re too pretty to be wasted here, sitting all by yourself. I could hear your thoughts from there,” he says, pointing at where he was sitting before. 

Your face twitches in irritation, you don’t like being called pretty, not with that tone at least, and not by men that aren’t Hae— anyway, you don’t like it. It feels like mockery and when it comes from men’s lips it feels like they’re trying to box you up there, as if being pretty is all you’re worth but at the same time, they can’t compliment you with words like ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’ because then they would boost your ego too much and they cannot compete with confident women. 

“And what were my thoughts, Harry Potter?” You joke, trying to hide the bitter tone with a forced small smile. 

He snorts, shaking his head, and shifting closer to you. Your first reaction is to move away but another body on the other side stops you from going far. 

“I don’t recall Harry Potter being able to mind read,” he whispers, and you feel his breath collide against your neck, and his fingers graze your thigh. “Anyway, I could tell you were begging for attention.” 

You gulp. You don’t like this anymore, you didn’t like this in the first place, to be honest. But him being all over your personal space without your consent is making you uncomfortable and for some reason, you can’t react like usual. Maybe it’s because he’s not doing anything, or well, not something so evident that wouldn’t make the whole club call you a crazy attention whore for accusing an innocent man. 

So, you sit quietly; if you don’t talk back, he’ll get tired and will leave, that’s what you pray for. You just have to wait for a miracle. 

And just when you’re about to lose all hope, and the man moves even closer to you, a fit of cough brings you back to earth. 

“Honey,” Haechan calls, “sorry, the line at the bathroom was endless. Should we go?” 

It takes you a while to realize he’s talking to you, but once your brain registers his voice, you let go of a breath of relief, and when you turn around you meet the pissed-off expression of the man next to you. 

“Who’s this?” 

“Her boyfriend,” Haechan talks before you can even think of an answer, too dumb you were already thinking of a short way to explain what was going on between you. “Needed something, sir?” 

Haechan is clearly mocking him, staring at the stranger with a challenging glare and moving closer to you, almost to shield you from him. 

“Nothing, have a great night,” the man mutters angrily before walking away. 

“You too!” Haechan screams and then turns to you. “Are you alright? It seemed like he was crossing some lines.” 

You’re still shaken, and only mumble some hums as a reply. It’s not really because of that man but mostly because you weren’t expecting this from Haechan. Or worse, you weren’t expecting your heart to react when he called himself your boyfriend. 

“I’m fine,” you whisper before briefly looking around, this is getting too much. You don’t give him time to check another time that you’re up and walking speedily to grab your jacket and storm outside. Haechan doesn’t get it, for the nth time he can’t predict anything of you, and he feels guilty because maybe he read you wrong, maybe you were willingly flirting with that man and he fucked up everything. But he still runs after you, and that’s, one, not what you expected, and two, not what you needed. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were flirting back with him,” he apologizes, running after you, grabbing your wrist, and forcing you to turn around. 

You sniffle, looking at the ground because this is so pathetic and it’s already the second time he catches you crying and you can’t bear how vulnerable you have shown yourself to him — yes, that is too many times for you. Bottling up feelings and emotions is your top skill after programming everything like a mastermind to make sure everything would flow perfectly and everyone would have a very specific image of you, so why the hell are you a mess every time he comes around? 

“I can go talk to him and explain it to him —”

“No,” you stop him. “I… I’m a bit overwhelmed because I… I wasted a night out, I could’ve stayed at home and written a little or gone on with my favourite series, but you know…” 

“Fleabag?” He taunts, tilting his head as he tries to meet your eyes.

“Yeah,” you whisper, running a hand on your neck.  

“You already know it by heart, it would be your tenth rewatch,” he jokes but when you look at him with your lips awkwardly pressed in a thin line, his eyes go wide. “Oh God, you started it again?” 

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, “it’s my comfort show, and then the other day I fucked up again, I needed to see myself being a total failure in someone else and Fleabag is always there for me.” 

Haechan chuckles, shaking his head, still staring at you with an amused expression. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Need a hot priest too?” 

That should make you laugh — oh, how much you wanted that — but it only makes you let out a chocked sob because fuck, he surely doesn’t carry a rosary and the bible is not his favourite book, he can’t say mass, but you feel like Haechan is your hot priest. He’s fucking you up in ways nobody else ever did. Fleabag at least had God and morals to come between them but you, what do you have? Nothing. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling you in a hug, “no hot priests, no judging for your fixations. How about you tell me what is going on?” 

“No,” you reply, hiding in his hold. It should be easy, embarrassing but easy, to slur out that you’re a mess because you feared he wasn’t going to pay you a bit of attention, surely you should’ve turned it into a confession of how dick-addicted you were and how badly you needed him — vulgarly, his cock — after an entire week of absence, but it’s not easy to be your usual — or past — self when you feel like you are missing him more than you are missing what he knows how to use best. “You should go inside, she’s waiting for you.” So you place the weight on him, hoping he won’t take you home because you can’t do another night like when you called him in the middle of desperation. 

You don’t catch his expression, a held-back smirk mixed with eyes full of surprise, but that would be the look on his face that you’d see if you’d stopped staring at the cobblestones on the sidewalk. 

“Are you… jealous?” 

Your head is not facing the ground anymore, with a snap so fast you know it’s a miracle you didn’t break your neck, your eyes lock with Haechan’s. And then you laugh, hysterically. It’s a fake laugh and he gets it, he can see you panic, he saw it in your eyes that brief moment they intertwined, and he knows. 

You are jealous. 

And you know he knows it, so you have to fix this mess. 

“Fine, I wanted to fuck you tonight, it’s been a week and I’m kinda needy, and seeing you with her got me mad, but not jealous. Do you know when you’re horny, you think you’re close to getting some relief and then something happens and what you have in mind doesn’t happen anymore?” You ask, and you see in his face that he’s barely following the words you’re spitting out before you can betray yourself. “But it’s fine, my toys are still working, so I can use them instead.”

“Are you walking home?” 

Oh, so he doesn’t care about anything you said? He didn’t believe it, right? Fuck, now he’ll think you love him. 

“Yes.” 

Haechan shakes his head, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the opposite side. “Come on, don’t make me drag you.” 

“I’m not going back inside,” you say, trying to pull away and he stops, sighing. 

“Honey, I’m taking you home.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

You’d fight if you weren’t a mess, you surely would do it and tell him it’s not necessary, but you need a ride back home so that’s the only reason you say yes. You don’t hope you will break rule number three again and he will fuck away this sadness you’re carrying around. Why are you even sad? He’s there, right at your side, driving you home after you cried like a child in the middle of the street, comparing yourself to a fucking tv series character, an insane character, by the way. 

“Do you think I talk to myself?” 

“What?” He almost swerves when you talk after five minutes of straight silence. 

“Like Fleabag, you know. The thing she does when she talks to us?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen you turn around mid-conversation to stare at a spot behind you or to your side to talk to a camera, so I guess no.” 

You sit in silence, blankly staring at the street in front of you. Oh, you do. Not the camera, not really, but you are slowly transcending into the madness of that old cat lady that Johnny always talked about. 

“I’m insane,” you cry out. 

Haechan laughs, turning to stare at you for a split second, and smiling again at your devasted face. “I just think you’re drunk.” 

“I didn’t drink,” you huff, throwing your head back against the seat and closing your eyes while you damn every decision that led you there. “Got two small glasses of something that wasn’t even worth it while I watched you grind on her all night.” 

Shit. 

Fuck. 

“She was hot.” 

Think fast. Think fast. Think fast. 

“You should’ve gone home with her. Can we go back so I will go home with her?” 

“I take it back, you are insane, not drunk,” he giggles, caressing your thigh when the car stops at a traffic light. 

You groan. Why is he so unfazed by your weird tactics? Why does he laugh so tenderly even when he’s teasing you? Why does it feel like he holds so much love in his voice, words, and touches? “I’m sorry, it was a shitty night and I’m… overstimulated. Not sexually, but mentally. Everything feels doubled.” 

“That’s why I’m taking you home.” 

Your brain has many things to say but you keep your mouth shut, you already messed up enough tonight and you’re not sure you can live tomorrow with the consequences of these minor errors already, so adding more to the list wouldn’t be a wise thing. 

When you arrive home you don’t move. You should jump off the car to slump in your bed not even changing yourself — once again going against one of the thousands of rules you have in order to survive in the insanity of your sanity. But you don’t want to leave his side. You like being around Haechan, even when you don’t talk, even right now that you feel on the verge of tears again and you can’t blame your hormones, while the music plays from the radio. 

And Haechan gets it. Your usual self? Out of the car in a second; the first times you two hung out you barely gave him time to stop before you were under the porch of the complex you lived in. He once again has no idea what’s going on inside you, but he knows he can’t leave you alone. He doesn’t care if you use toys, but for how shaken you look, he knows the only thing you’ll pick up will be the phone to call your ex, and he doesn’t want that. You don’t deserve to be hurt, and your ex doesn’t even deserve to hear your voice. 

“Wanna come to my place?” He asks, breaking the silence, staring at you while you’re lost with the gaze in front of you on the quite empty road of your house. “You have everything there anyway.”

You have everything there anyway. 

His toothbrush that became yours. 

His white t-shirt that became yours. 

A new set of towels he had bought just for you. 

His favourite mug that became yours. 

A warm bed. A pillow with a beating heart. And probably something else you’re not ready to face yet. 

“Yeah, let’s go home.” 

Haechan shouldn’t smile this big when those words leave your lips and you slump in your seat letting go of the tension, but he does. He knows you’re drunk, he knows you’ll go back to being your distant self in the morning, and probably he won’t even find you there when he wakes up, but he likes this new side of you so he wants to enjoy it while it lasts. 

Home. 

He loves the way it rolls from your lips and how that house feels like home when you’re inside. 

Apparently, your new plan is to give Haechan a heart attack, cause when he wakes up in the morning and, not only still finds you there, but finds you cuddled up on top of him, he feels like dying. He is not even sure you are you, maybe he’s making you up and all of this is a dream. 

Now that you are awake you feel the same. You are in his bed, wearing his shirt and pants, it’s nine in the morning, your clothes are not scattered on the floor and the sheets aren’t a mess. Why? You know why. Unfortunately, you weren’t drunk enough the night before to forget how embarrassing it had been, but you wish you could find another reason. 

“Oh, hi,” he cheers when you enter the kitchen after ten minutes of contemplating whether running away now was a good idea or if the more you acted weird, the worst it got. “Headache?” 

“No, luckily no,” you reply, running a hand on your face and sitting on a chair. “Why are you cooking, trying to blow us up?” 

“Oh, you’re back, I was starting to worry,” he laughs at your snarky remark, shaking his head. 

You don’t reply, only drop on your arms, resting your head on them against the table as you watch him move around. He might not be a good chef, but you love the way he moves, it’s like his body always makes sure to remind you of all the years he spent doing ballet, and even if he hates it now, you’re glad he did it.

He’s hot, even in the morning, even with his eyes still sleepy and hair a mess. But you feel like something of the crazy, pungent, chemistry that used to buzz between you stopped doing so. Or maybe this is a friend moment without the benefits? You can’t tell, and you just want to get back on the benefits again because the whole friends’ thing is turning romantic and you don’t like it. 

So, your feet move quickly, making you reach him in a second and wrap your arms around his body. 

“What are you—” 

“Shh,” you shush him, moving your hands lower on his abdomen. 

“Oh, sure, of course, you weren’t just hugging me, fuck,” he curses when you tease his inner thighs, never touching his sensitive part. There is a hint of sadness in his words but you pretend you don’t get it. 

“Want you, Hyuckie,” you pout against his ear, and you can feel him shiver in your hold. 

“Not now,” he murmurs, reaching for your hand to move it away. 

“Then when?” You ask, slipping your hand into the rubber band after you slapped his away. “You never fucked me in the morning, you know?” 

Haechan gulps and turns off the stove, hands losing their grip on everything they touch while your hands kept teasing him more and more. 

“When we had all, mhh, day to ourselves,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes as he tries to don’t give in to you. 

“Fucked me in the evening, at night, and in the afternoon.” 

“You slept till noon of course I couldn’t fuck you in your sleep.” 

“Well, couldn’t or wouldn’t, you still didn’t, and I need you to do it now.” 

Haechan’s breath falters when your fingers wrap around his dick and start moving to get him hard, head reclined low as he tries to hold in the moans you’re dragging out of him. 

“Can you get hard for me?” You whisper teasingly and Haechan groans, glaring at you. 

“Now you think I can’t get hard?” 

You chuckle at his voice and also because you can feel his cock hardening in your hand with each stroke on it. 

“Good,” you hum, starting to kiss his neck and when his head rolls back and he searches for your lips on his, you pull away. 

“Oh, cool, went back to phase one?” He says and you can hear the bit of anger in his voice even if he’s trying to hide it. 

You don’t know what to reply, you can turn it into something sexual, so he won’t get mad and keep this thing going. You don’t even know why you pulled away. Well, yes, you do, but why are you so afraid all of a sudden? 

“Fuck me first and then maybe later you’ll get a kiss.” This will do, coming out sultrily it only sounds like dirty talk and hides your insecurities. “You left me hanging for too long to get what you want so easily.” 

And Haechan falls for it, groaning again and leaning back on your shoulder while his eyes are shut and from his lips start to come out more moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he whimpers, fucking back into your hands. 

You smirk, finding yourself staring at his blissed face a bit too long, but he looks just so beautiful like this, with his long lashes resting on his full soft cheeks, and his plump lips parted to let out soft, raspy whimpers. 

“Wanna come?” 

“In — fuck — in your mouth, please. Use your mouth.”

Your hands leave his dick, and you take two steps back.

“Turn around and take your pants off,” you order and stare at him following your instructions in the blink of an eye. When he’s done, you get on your knees and don’t waste time taking his hard cock in your mouth. 

“Shit,” Haechan groans, throwing his head back and wrapping his hands in your hair, he doesn’t force your face down, leaving total control in your hands, he simply likes to hold on to you somehow. 

You go for a steady rhythm, not fast but not slow to tease him and waste more time. You’re dripping and you need him inside you soon. And for your luck, it doesn’t take him long to come. After all, you know him and what drives him crazy. So one of your hands fondles his balls while the other wraps around his base, and start working on him while your tongue and cheeks focus on his tip. You also know that he loves hearing you moan around him, and watching your eyelid flatter as you stare up at him, and he never told you but when tears start spilling out of the corner of your eyes, his cock throbs harder. 

“Mhh, fuck, fuck,” he rasps out, followed by chants of your name as his knees wobble and his hips buck up while he comes in your mouth. His eyes roll back when you pull away with a pop sound and then swallow everything without breaking eye contact. “You drive me insane,” he mutters, running his fingers through his hair, breathing deeply.   

“Fuck me,” you urge, standing up again, his words flying over your head. “Please.”

Haechan nods, shaking his head to try to shake the post-orgasm haze out of his mind. “Come here,” he hums, pulling you closer, moving his hands on your body to undress you of the pants and underwear before lifting you on the countertop. 

But that’s not what you want. 

“No,” you huff, squirming in his hold. “From behind, please.” 

That’s not what Haechan wants, when you fuck in that position is because you want it particularly hard and that’s not what he wants to give to you, not now. He’s still trapped in that sense of what was different from the night before and he’s not ready to bear with your shift to your old self again. But when he looks into your eyes, he realizes that spell is already far gone, no more tenderness or heartfelt conversation, just sex and greed. 

But you are still there, and it never happened before, and this is better than nothing, so he gives you what you want. 

“Bend over,” he says, helping you off the kitchen and waiting for you to get in position. He would find the view hot, incredibly hot, your ass pushing back up into him, your wet folds pressing against the tip of his cock, your hips swinging in desperation, and it is hot, but he can’t enjoy it fully; if it only wasn’t for that small twinge of pain in his heart. 

“Please, fuck me,” you beg again when he doesn’t push in right away, too lost at staring blankly at your back.

“Are you in a rush? Somewhere to be better than here?” He bites back, it’s a bitter tease, not a sensual one, and his voice trembles, and so do his hands on your hips. 

“I need you, please,” you grunt, throwing your head down, “please.” 

Haechan swallows the gulp in his throat and pushes into you. He’s always delicate when he thrusts in the first time, he knows you’re wet and ready to take him but he’s always careful and you wish you didn’t find it so attractive, but you do. Nobody ever cared for you that much during sex, well, nobody ever cares for you that much in general. 

And when he starts moving in and out of you, your heart loses another beat. He fills you up so nicely, you hate to compliment every part of him but fuck, he’s perfect, he fits perfectly and you feel him everywhere, it’s like he was made just for you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you clench down on him. “Want it harder, babe?” 

“Yes, please.” 

His hips start snapping against you in a fast rhythm, causing your bones to hit the hard surface of the countertop, but you don’t care, you even find the slight pain more exciting. 

Haechan’s groans fill your ears, as the grip of his hands on you gets incredibly tighter. It’s rough like you asked but not how you’re used to. You don’t dare to turn your neck to get a peek at him but you know his brows are knitted and his eyes are dark. This doesn’t feel like fun like your usual hard fucks, it’s like a sense of sadness and bitterness is running between you and it makes your heart sting. 

“Haechan,” you call out his name, and only for a second his grip softens, but you don’t continue, you don’t even know what you want, or if you want something. 

“What?” He growls in response, hips slamming harshly against your ass. “Is this still not enough? Am I still not enough? Will I ever be enough for you?” 

Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel a tear streak down your eyes and you shake your head swiftly, trying to hold onto something. “No, it is,” you breathe out. “You are, fuck, you are enough,” you cry, hissing when he slaps your ass. 

“Yeah? Then what do you want? What do I have to do to make you happy?”

“Kiss me,” you mumble, pushing your head back, trying to reach for his lips. “Ple-please, want you — umh — you all over me.”

And when he leans in, kissing you with eagerness, it’s like the gloomy cloud that was shadowing over you dissolves in the air, his grip turns delicate, and his face relaxes, while his hips slow down until they come to a stop. Haechan doesn’t pull away and you don’t care you’re almost struggling for air, feeling breathless, gasping against his lips makes you feel alive more than ever. 

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away with a gasp. He stares at your face for a moment, watching a tear roll down your cheeks, and he’s tempted to wipe it away with a gentle touch of his fingers, but he doesn’t give in to temptation. If you weren’t in yourself the night before, he’s not in himself right now, and he feels that he might want to see you cry, cry for him. 

Another guttural sound rolls from his lips when he drifts his gaze away and pushes you flat on the countertop with force, picking up the same rhythm as before, snapping against you so fast that your heart starts racing faster in your chest that’s raising up and down in a frenetic rhythm. 

“Too — too much,” you whimper, letting your shoulder relax when you fear you won’t be able to keep your body up much more. 

Haechan snickers, moving a hand down to knead the flesh of your ass harshly as he leans closer to you. “Really? Thought you asked me to fuck you like this.” 

You nod weakly, muscles of your neck sore, and you close your eyes because you feel more tears threatening to spill out, it’s a mix of physical pleasure and mental — emotional — pain you can’t deal with. 

“I would’ve fucked you differently,” he almost growls next to your ears, and you know he’s mad. “Nice and slow, probably would’ve even eaten you out but you asked for this and I’m giving you this,” his voice almost breaks and his hips falter, his heart is beating so loud in his ribcage you can feel it against your back. “Want me to stop?” And here he is, as always, no matter the pain you put him through by playing a game of hide and seek inside your true self where he can’t grasp anything real, his voice still turns soft, weak, almost shy, as he makes sure this truly is not getting too much for you. Because you hit left and right with your sword and your blinded eyes but he won’t ever hurt you even if he’s clearly the one bleeding. 

“No,” you sniffle, opening your eyes to try to glimpse at his, but the position doesn’t offer you a great view. “Want you, please. I — I need you, Hyuck, so much.” 

He nods quickly and then starts thrusting into you, this time he won’t stop until you come, but he pushes your body up against his because he needs you. He needs your scent to be all over his skin, he needs to remind himself you’re not a dream even if you continuously slip from his fingers, he needs to remind you and himself that he’s the only one that has you like this. He is the best you ever had and that’s a little consolation.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he whimpers, forehead frowning while sweat starts pearling his skin as he looks at your ass bouncing on him. “Gonna come?” 

“Ye-yes, please,” you beg, and you don’t even know why. You don’t have to ask for his permission to come but it’s like you want him to end this moment. 

“Hold on just a bit more, I’m close,” he replies, “want to come with you.” 

You nod mindlessly, letting out louder and whinier moans while your hands desperately search for some kind of contact and your legs shake as your orgasm builds up with more violence inside you. 

“Be a good girl and come with me,” he orders and you feel one of his hands reach in front of your body until it finds your clit. He groans loudly when your pussy clenches hard around him and your body tenses up while your orgasm washes over, leaving you with your mouth parted but too breathless to let out sounds. Haechan’s not silent, he curses your name and some swear words while his hips keep ramming into you as he pumps his cum in and out of your hole. 

“Shit,” he comments, pulling out of you sooner than you wish he would, leaving you empty and cold. 

You think he’s behind you, but when you turn around struggling, you see he’s not in the kitchen anymore and you collapse on the floor, legs too weak and trembling to hold you and your heavy heart up. 

You’re not sure how many minutes pass while you sit naked on the floor of his kitchen with your hands in your hair wondering where did you go wrong. You just know it feels like an eternity and when you hear footsteps approach, you quickly jump on your feet to cover up and don’t let him find you like that.  

Once you pulled back up your clothes, and he’s back in the room, you don’t know what to say, and you don’t even feel like staring at him. 

“You can…” he starts but then stops and when your eyes lift from the ground, you see he’s turned around, turning on the stoves again. 

“I can?” 

“Nothing,” he mutters. “You know where everything in this house is. Do whatever you want.” 

“Are you — are you mad?” You chuckle nervously, shaky fingers fixing your hair behind your ears. 

He shrugs, shaking his head, “I’m not, I just know you won’t do what I propose, so if you want to eat, take a shower and grab some new clothes, do it. But if you want to leave, it’s fine, too.” 

You bite your lips; you know your typical answer would be easy: leave. But right now, it feels like the wrong one. You can’t bet on it, but Haechan seems sad, even angry, and the cold wall between you and his back is making you feel guilty for something you don’t even know. You just proposed to fuck, it was normal in your relationship, so why was he mad and why were you sad? What happened in that fragment when your bodies were tangled in a mess bigger than what it looked like? 

“I’ll stay for a bit…” you whisper and when he turns around with wide eyes you add, “if it’s fine for you.” 

“Yeah, I told you, everything you decide it’s fine for me. Want breakfast?” 

“Yeah,” you say. 

“And maybe new clothes?” He smiles, tilting his head to the side, warm dispersing on his face again.

“Your closet?” 

“My closet.” 

The names you start slurring in bed don’t belong to Haechan. Honestly, you haven’t seen Haechan in over two weeks now. That morning you needed him to prove you something, only to be proven the complete opposite. Things with him weren’t going where you planned them to go in the first place. 

And the best solution would be to talk about it, set some boundaries again, or put an end to things like adults, but, even if the years pass by, you feel like you only keep getting older but not wiser. 

You think you are stupid and childish, and you hate yourself. 

But you still don’t pick the best solutions. Actually, you don’t pick solutions at all, you just fuck things up because you’re not used to them going right. 

You ghosted him. Left his place after breakfast with a promise to text him in the week just to never pick up the phone to go to his contact again. You even have to avoid Johnny and your friend’s nights out because you can’t face him. 

You feel like you cheated on him. No, there wasn’t written or slurred speech anywhere that you two were exclusive but you two were exclusive. Haechan never fucked someone else behind your back, and he also most of the times implied he didn’t because, since you two did it raw, he wanted to make sure he was only active with you. 

And you… you crossed a line you shouldn’t have crossed. 

You went back to your ex and met up with two people you met at a club, when, too heartbroken, you needed someone to fill the void inside of you, only for things to get worst and leave you heartbroken, full of guilt and unsatisfied. 

You should pick up your phone, call him over and explain, you’re still in time to fix this in a way he won’t hate you forever, but you don’t. 

You go to work, come back home, slump on the couch with food and movies, or stay out running until you can barely feel your legs, stand under the shower as if the bill won’t crash you at the end of the month and then go to sleep, or try to, while you fight with your brain and heart and the emotions none of the three of you knows how to cope with, just to do it all over again the next day. 

It’s an endless routine where you try to push him out, but it doesn’t seem to work. 

It had always been easy to delete people from your life like this. One cut, one push out of your protected zone, and they were long forgotten. 

So why is it so hard with him? 

But you still don’t pick up that damn phone, not even when a month passes by and Haechan reaches for you, apologizing. 

[Monday]

pathetic loser hey, it’s been a while i just wanted to check if everything’s alright 

[Wednesday]

pathetic loser will you be there at johnny’s dinner at his place? 

maybe we can talk there? 

[Friday]

pathetic loser   i didn’t ask johnny but i guess you won’t be there so i just hope you’re okay 

You don’t reply, only stare at those texts trying to force yourself to grab the phone and call him because he deserves that more than a dry reply in a text. But you don’t know what to say, and you’d probably hope he won’t answer the call, so you’ll have an excuse to say you’ve tried but he didn’t reply. And when you try to come up with something that can explain to him this whole situation and at the same time don’t tear you apart, another week passes by. 

[Thursday] 

pathetic loser i won’t bother you again i promise 

i just wanted to apologize if i did something that made you uncomfortable that night/morning 

i don’t know what it is but it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me, after all you don’t owe me anything 

it was just sex anyway so it’s fine 

i will stop hanging around with johnny when i know he plans with all of us so you don’t have to avoid him too 

he misses you, please don’t let some sex come between your friendship 

anyway back to us, i know i sound like a loser but i had fun and i hope you don’t regret this totally, sorry if i messed something up i didn’t do it on purpose 

i’ve written too much so yeah hope you’re fine, have a great life (you can block me if you want to, if you didn’t already) 

You don’t reply even this time, but you cry and sob into your pillow, covered by your sheets as the phone glows in the dark. And you cry and cry until you feel like you can’t breathe and the weight on your chest gets heavier and pushes you down into your misery. 

It was supposed to be just silly, superficial, and fun sex, how did it turn into this? 

Haechan didn’t mean to mess something up. 

But Haechan doesn’t know that the only thing he messed up with is your heart. 

It takes you a while, but you get over him and get back to your daily life, the real one. No more depressing couch-sitting-eating sessions or extremely exhausting workouts to burn your brain down, no more avoiding social life and crying yourself to sleep. 

Johnny didn’t understand what happened, he felt like there was something going on between you and Haechan, but you never told him anything and you wouldn’t keep that a secret to yourself, right? Not from him at least. But even if he didn’t know the reasoning he gently, and friendly, dragged you out of the house without asking many questions, he just wanted you back. 

And you were back, a bit less chatty and loud, with a lightly dimmed glow in your eyes, and with a tongue that stopped flirting with every breathing being, but you were there. 

Haechan had disappeared, he was true to his promise, and you never saw him in the mixed-groups group hangouts, so moving on from him had been easier. 

You don’t hear his laugh anymore, you don’t laugh at his jokes, you can’t feel his hand secretly and gently rest on your thighs under the table, he can’t rest his head on your shoulder when the alcohol kicks in and he is too wasted, you don’t have someone to dance with or run away back home when your social battery dies. 

You don’t have him. 

And it sucks. 

But you try not to show it. You are trying to move on, and even if you hate how tortuous it feels this time and how you still look for his dumb-looking, slap-attracting, handsome, kissable face, you are trying. 

You are also failing. 

When the seventh drink of the night reaches your stomach, you’re not even sure you’d be able to answer if someone asked what’s your name. And you hate that a name is still loud and clear, ringing in your mind like a permanent reminder that maybe, just maybe, you are not getting over him. 

So, you drag your legs up and feel your head turn, everything is spinning but you need to find someone that will drown him out. You can’t keep going on like this. 

“Hi,” you mumble when you reach the bar and sit clumsily on the stool. 

“Oh, hi, babe. Look what we have here,” the man replies, studying you. 

“Wanna fuck?” 

“Oh, you go straight to the point, and I wouldn’t say no if only you didn’t look completely out of yourself.”

“I’m not,” you reply, shaking your head — terrible idea, everything spins faster, and you have to squeeze your eyes to find balance again. “I just had a few drinks.” 

“A few?” 

“Yeah. I can take you home,” you wink, caressing his arm with two fingers and the stranger chuckles before shaking his head.  

“I think we need to find somebody that knows you to take you home. Are you alone?” 

You shake your head. “You could take me home. I’m good, I give amaaazing blowjobs.”

“I don’t want to doubt your abilities, but you’re drunk,” he says, starting to look around, hoping to be lucky enough to make eye contact with someone you may know. 

“Come on, I need this. Is it because you think you can’t take me?” You still insist, pressing your finger on his chest in an accusative tone. 

He snorts, “I can take you, but sober. Hey,” he calls someone, waving his hand and at the same time trying to keep your body up with his other one. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Johnny’s voice is clear and too loud, especially when he groans your name angrily after you try to avoid him. 

“Do you know him?” 

“He’s my bestie,” you say, rolling your eyes. “My bad, bad bestie. He made me meet someone that broke my heart, don’t let me go with him, pleaseee.”

“Man, she needs aspirin and a bed.” 

Johnny nods, grabbing your arm and pulling you from the sit, “Yeah, I can see. Thank you for not taking advance of her.” 

“Should be the norm,” he smiles. “Take care. And maybe talk with whoever broke your heart.” 

“No,” you reply angrily, crossing your arms on your chest. “I’m mad at you,” you say to Johnny, trying to walk away from him but you need his support to don’t wiggle around like jelly. “You first say I need some fun and then the fun breaks my heart and now the fun at the bar is not okay because I’m not sober to you and him and why I can’t have nice things?” 

Johnny stares at you as if you’re crazy; he had seen you drunk but never like this, so miserable, and the fact he has not even a faint idea of how and why you are like this, doesn’t sit right with him. “Why don’t we sit in a corner and talk?” 

“I don’t want to. I want Haechan,” you slur out, collapsing on the sit and resting your head on his chest, but the music is loud and Johnny’s not sure he heard right. 

“You want who?” 

“Haehan,” you mumble against his shirt. 

“Okay, I don’t know who or what you want but we need to go home, come on. Please, drag your feet to the car, I’ll carry you inside your place but please, let’s just make it to the car.”

Johnny has to carry you to the car in his arms because you are a boneless mess and he doesn’t want to end the night at the hospital because you broke your ankles on those damn heels; mental reminder to gift you heels you can easily walk on even when you have more alcohol than blood running in your veins. 

The drive back home is a blur in your brain, you’re sure you’re not sleeping, but your head is spinning and at some point, you start shedding some tears and mumble chants of a name, Johnny supposes, but he can’t get it right. Your voice is low and groggy, and sobs come through every whimper that escapes your lips. 

“My place or yours?” He asks, hoping you can give him an answer, but you answer other doubts instead. 

“Hyuck,” you whisper, and Johnny finally has all the puzzle pieces to put together. 

When you wake up in the morning with a throbbing headache and your stomach turned upside down, the last thing you want to deal with is your best friends’ stares and glances he throws at you as if he knows something you don’t know he knows. 

You don’t ask him any questions right away, your brain is too far gone to deal with it, but after another aspirin and a coffee, you feel like you’re ready to face him. Except you’re not quite ready for what’s to come. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, rubbing your temples while you rest your elbows on his kitchen table. 

“Haechan,” he replies with a smirk on his face as if he finally got you right where he wanted you, cornered. And well, you feel like you are, and maybe you should’ve waited a bit longer cause your acting skills are not at their best right now, but you take another sip from your cup, shrug, and then reply nonchalantly. 

“What about him?”

Johnny’s eyes roll back as he huffs loudly. “Do we really have to do this?”

“Do what? You bring him up out of nowhere,” you say, but the calmness of your voice is being betrayed by the nervous bouncing of your leg and Johnny gets it immediately, and that’s when he shoots his arrow. 

“You love him.” 

“What?” You almost spit the coffee out while you stare at your best friend with wide eyes, hoping to see a reaction, hoping that this disgusted him to the point he will get up and focus on cleaning the table and insult you instead of twisting the knife in the wound that’s called ‘me and Haechan.’ But he’s impassive, and it’s written all over his face that he’s not buying it, or anyway, he wants to dig deep into all the secrets you kept from him. 

“You love him,” he repeats, and those words coming out so slowly from his mouth make shivers run down your spine. 

“I don’t,” you reply sternly, getting up to clean the spilled coffee and keep yourself busy.  

“You do. You slurred his name all the way back home and I thought I was crazy until you said Hyuck and hell no, that’s him.” Johnny reaches you and now you also feel physically cornered by his big body — why the hell is he so big? — and physically disgusted because you did what? And why couldn’t he leave you in somebody else home? Slurring his name to a stranger wouldn’t have been as embarrassing as what you did. 

“So? Are you going to answer? Or keep denying?” He presses you again, and before he can scold you as he usually does with an annoyed call of your name in a stern tone, you snap. 

“We used to fuck, okay?”

“You did what?” Johnny almost screams at your face, and you push him back to walk to the living room. 

“Don’t be surprised, you literally set us up.” 

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me? What happened to our friendship and our rules.” Johnny’s voice cracks as he tries to accept that you, his best friend, sister of another mother, and partner in crimes, really kept all of this behind him.  

“Oh, screw rules, all those fucking rules I never know how to respect,” you huff, falling on the couch and holding your head in your hands. And Johnny has to rub his temples because all of this is insane and surreal to his ears.  

“You don’t know how to respect them? You. Miss little rules?”

“Shut up.” 

“Wait… your rules about sex? Are you talking about all that crap you believe won’t make you catch feelings?” 

“It never made me catch feelings. It always worked. Clear boundaries, good sex, and everybody on their way.” 

Johnny smirks, kneeling in front of you so you can’t avoid his gaze anymore. “You broke them.” 

“I didn’t,” you mutter, and you want to slap his face because why is he having so much fun seeing your breakdown?

“You did. You just told me; you got mad when I mentioned them, and you wouldn’t get mad unless something didn’t go as you planned.” 

“Nothing happened,” you retort, leg bouncing progressively faster as you feel your heart race and your body burn.  

“No, you broke them.”

“I didn’t.” 

“You fell in love with him.” 

“Don’t,” you stop him with a glare that doesn’t scare away the smirk on his face. Instead, the look in your eyes, the way your lips are twitching, and your continuous nervous movements are everything Johnny needs to let him know he’s right. 

“You fell in love with Haechan.” 

You almost scream when those words roll from his lips, you hate hearing that thought, that fear that has been lingering in your brain every night for a month now. “Shut up, don’t make things up. I broke the rules of not telling you we fucked.” 

“Oh, no, girl, I know you. You’re fidgeting with your fingers, and your voice is shaking, you’re straight-up lying and you can sell that bullshit to anybody else but not me, so spill the fuck you have to spill or else we’re going to have a long day.” 

“There’s nothing to know. We started fucking, and then stopped, but I’m in my unlucky month and I don’t find anybody that’s good enough to satisfy me. And that’s why I’m breaking rules, I like to have fun, but I don’t like to try so many people and fuck with every person I see, you know I hate it.” 

“Then why are you doing it? Your toys are not enough anymore?” 

“Yeah, I’ll stick to them,” you cut it short, trying to avoid his eyes because you know you will fall. Johnny has this power of dragging things out of your mouth, you’re lucky he didn’t get the tiniest hint of what was going on between you and Haechan or he would’ve made you face some painful truths a long time ago. 

“If it was so good, why did you stop?” 

You shrug. Fuck. 

“That’s not an answer.” 

“I don’t know, he wanted to see new people and we just stopped.” 

“Really?” Johnny asks with a teasing edge to his voice, clearly mocking you. “He’s not seeing anybody.” 

“Maybe he didn’t tell you. You didn’t know about us, and we were both friends with you, so. Or maybe he didn’t find another one, just like me.” 

“He seems rather heartbroken, and he asked a weird question about you.” 

Now it’s your time to be shocked. He asks about you? He doesn’t hate you after the way you treated him? You’re still in his mind? No, why would any of this matter? Why do you care? It doesn’t matter. “What?” Well, it shouldn’t matter. 

“If everything was alright or if something happened to you.” 

“Just checking on people is normal.” You shake it off with a nod and raise of shoulders, but something inside you is burning. It’s that flame you think you put out and yet found a way to spark up every time you don’t think about it. 

“Not asking if something happened,” he says before walking around and studying you. You are avoiding his gaze and are a raging ball of nervousness, you weren’t even like this with your ex-boyfriend, let alone with your few hook-ups. And then something else clicks in his brain. “Did you cut him off without a word?” And when you don’t answer, and he calls out your name with urgency, you can’t lie anymore. 

“Maybe,” you reply with a loud groan, your head falling backwards with force, hitting the backrest so hard you hurt yourself even if there’s the cushion dividing you from the hard surface. “Maybe I did.”  

“Why?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” He shouts, throwing his hands over his head.

“Johnny, please, I don’t need a lecture right now, okay? I know I was rude, and an asshole.” 

“No, you’re in love, it’s different.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Why are you lying? You never called your ex-boyfriend’s name while you were wasted, you never broke any of your rules for him, it took you nothing to move on, and the only reason you got back was because you wanted revenge and because you needed to fill your life with something. You never cared for him nearly as half of what you care for Haechan, so why lie, and why lie to me?” 

“I don’t want to,” you sniffle, suddenly feeling your brain spin again while your nails sink into the fabric of the pants Johnny gave you.

“Talk to me?” 

“No, to love him.” 

There it is; the loud confession. That confession you didn’t even do to yourself alone in the darkness of your room. It’s still bouncing against the walls of Johnny’s place in plain sight under the bright daylight and it pierces your ears and your heart. 

Fuck. You’re screwed. 

Your eyes lock with Johnny’s and your brain would like to lie and mumble some nonsense but your heart can’t keep bleeding without being taken care of anymore. So, hot salt starts streaming down your face silently and your head faces the ground while two strong arms wrap around you. 

You’re screwed. 

When you’ve cried all your tears in Johnny’s arms, and you feel like you can try to put it down to words you do it. Maybe with Johnny by your side, it will be easier. 

“I don’t know what the hell he did to me.” 

“That’s a nice start.” 

“I’m not saying I didn’t consider the possibility of this going down a different path and starting to allow feelings in but… like this? I’ve never felt like this before, not even when I fell first, and I’m not even sure I’ve ever loved somebody before if this is how it’s supposed to feel.” 

“Then why don’t just let yourself go for once? You don’t have to always have everything under control.” 

“But I’m scared. I hated seeing him with someone that wasn’t me. The mere idea of him being with somebody else now makes me sick. This is scary.” 

“Love can be scary at times, but that’s what it is.” 

You breathe in deeply and rub your temples. “But what if it’s wrong? What if… God, I’m doing all this and I’m not even sure he likes me back.” 

“Well, if it’s right, you know, right?” 

You shrug, you thought it was right so many times before, and then it never was but this felt different, everything about Haechan hits different, it truly was like an arrow straight to your heart purposefully made to hit you straight to the core and cut you deep. 

Johnny sighs, you already talked too much today and faced the truth, he knows he can’t push you any further. 

“I’m not saying you have to take him back but… sometimes you can take the good things life gives you without tearing them into pieces. It will tear you into pieces if you keep putting rules to things that are destined to flow freely.”

Going back to the coast feels like torture, especially when both you and Haechan forgot to ask Johnny if the other was there and found out only when you hopped out of the cars and locked eyes after months. 

No, you didn’t pick up the phone even after that conversation with Johnny. It felt humiliating to crawl back to him after so much time, so you decided that whatever was going on, was destined to die. 

But when your eyes jump into his again, and cheesily, it feels like the time had stopped, you’re not so sure whatever was, or is, going on, is destined to die.

It’s awkward when you don’t know if you should greet him or not, but luckily in the mess of everyone greeting each other, you lose him in the ‘crowd’ of friends. Fortunately, most of them found somebody to bring along so there are double of people than the last time. Unfortunately, that leads you and Haechan to the same room of this summer. Of course, nobody knows, and you’re not quick enough to retort when Mark decides like this after sorting everybody else in other rooms, and Johnny’s not there to save your ass — probably he wouldn’t. 

The tension can be cut with a knife and you feel like your head is exploding while you two make your way to the room and then start to put your things in place. 

“I can sleep on the couch,” Haechan says, breaking the suffocating silence. 

“No, it’s fine,” you almost choke on your words, unprepared, non-expecting he would talk to you first, “we did worse things together,” you chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood but you only get a forced snicker back before he turns around and gives you his back again. You know that wasn’t the smartest answer you could give, but you don’t know how to ease the tension and the heavy weight of guilt in the pit of your stomach. 

You want to talk, that should be the right moment to do it, to apologize, at least. But you’re tongue-tied. 

“Is there even something to do here during winter?” He speaks, still giving you his back, and it takes you a while to understand he’s addressing you. 

“Uhm, yes,” you reply. “The city is nice, and there are mountains just forty minutes away from here so… usually with our families we used to ski.” 

“Great,” Haechan hums, standing up, brushing his hands on his pants to flatten the creases of the fabric, “never done it before. Guess I’ll take a look around town. Last time I didn’t get to visit it,” he smiles before walking out and you feel the ground collapse under your feet. 

You won’t survive three days like this. 

You hated spending time in that house during winter when you were a child, the sun didn’t shine bright enough, the sand was wet and sticky, and you didn’t know how to ski, also you never got why your family spent so much money on that sport when they clearly weren’t as rich as Johnny’s parents, and no one of you was good enough for it to even be fun. 

Now nothing changed, the cloudy weather over the sea is depressing, and watching your friends have fun is not making you feel any better, you still don’t know how to ski, and you have a lump in your throat as your brain runs faster than you, screaming how you put yourself in this situation. 

The tea in your hand is not hot enough, you wasted too much time stealing glimpses at Haechan and his new crush to drink it when Johnny served it to everybody after all of you came back from the — for you terrible — ski session this afternoon. You didn’t do anything but sit on a bench and hold back your tears while everybody else was having fun. You should’ve stayed at home, it would’ve been better than having to deal with Wonyoung — apparently, that was her name — laugh and giggle every time Haechan opened his mouth, or their intertwined hands while they both tried to learn how to use the ski. And now it’s not going better, she’s sitting on his lap while he caresses her hair with one hand and the other draws circles on her palm, and all your friends are sharing knowing glares as they point at them. 

You never had that with him, and the jealousy mixes with bitterness, until you realize that the arrangement you had didn’t include any of that. So why did you want it so much? Why do you want to be her so badly right now? 

You sigh, running a finger on the mug in front of you, staring at the brownish liquid as if by magic you’re going to see your future in it, but you think it’s better like this, you’re pretty sure the picture would be a tragedy anyway. 

When the talks get irritating, you decide to go back to your room, not even saying anything, you’re not sure about what they want to do, it was in the air to eat at a place downtown but you didn’t pay their talks much attention. You decide to go for a shower with the hope it will relax you and wash away some heaviness, but nothing much changes once you’re out and dressed up in clean clothes. It only gets worse when you open your room, and Haechan is there, laying on the bed with a hand behind his head and his phone in the other. 

You pass in front of him, not saying a word, silently putting back in your purse your shampoo and conditioner, and other things you carried with you. He doesn’t talk either. It has been like this the whole day, barely acknowledging each other and now it’s getting too heavy. You owe him an apology, not to make things get back in place, they never will, but because he didn’t deserve it. 

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you say, turning around, “I’m sorry I avoided you.” 

Haechan lifts his head, a small frown connecting his brows for a while, almost as if he’s trying to get what you’re referring to, and when he does, the muscles of his face relax. “It’s fine.” 

“No, it’s not. I didn’t want to… to leave you like this.” 

“It doesn’t matter, you had all the right to stop it,” he shrugs, looking down for a second, probably closing the app on his phone because you don’t hear the faint sound of the video playing anymore. “I don’t cry for sex.” 

You hum, but you study his face to understand if he’s serious. Was it just sex for him? Were you just sex for him? 

“I…” you stop and look away. Your leg is bouncing nervously and you’re playing with your fingers, pressing your nails into your skin. “I have to tell you something.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I lo—” 

“Haechannie!” Wonyoung’s voice rings loudly in the room, stopping you from going on. “We are taking a look around, want to come with me and keep me warm? Also, we’ll have dinner together.” You shouldn’t find the way she bats her eyes so irritating, neither her voice, or the way she’s looking at him right now, but you feel like puking, and you hope Haechan will decline; out of all the things he said before, you heard he was tired and wanted to go to bed, so he will say no, right? 

“Yeah, I’d love to. Be there in a minute.” 

“Ah! You’re the best, baby,” she cheers, running to leave a kiss on his cheeks and then walking out. 

“You were saying?” He asks, turning his attention on you, shaking his hair out of his forehead. 

You shake your head, gulping. “Nothing,” you smile, it’s forced and fake, and if he’d look closely, he’d see a tear at the corner of your eyes, but he doesn’t. He’s looking at you with his head slightly tilted in mild concern, but you know it’s just for niceties. 

“It seemed serious, though?” 

“It was just another apology you don’t want,” you breathe out in a bitter chuckle, rubbing your hands on your thighs while your gaze meets the floor. “I lost track of myself during the time we drifted apart, I’m sorry it… it fired back to you.” 

“Oh,” he says, “it’s fine, seriously. I just care that you’re fine. You are fine, right?” 

You hold back a sob and smile, feeling tears at the corner of your eyes. “Never been better.” 

“Good,” he smiles. “You coming?” 

“No, I’m tired, I’ll go to bed like a child that has school tomorrow at 8.” 

Haechan laughs and then grabs his jacket. “’Kay, don’t take all the bed. You still have that bad habit, don’t you?” 

You chuckle, giving him an apologetic look, “I have a bed too big for me only, I’m not used to sharing.” 

He nods and then opens the door. “Leave a small patch for me, and don’t have too much fun all alone,” he winks. 

You smile and then wave him goodbye. 

If crying yourself to sleep was fun, you were about to have the funniest night of your life.

“Been a while, isn’t it?” 

The last thing you expect to find in the morning is Haechan’s face looking down at you with a teasing smirk while you rest too close to his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, sitting up in the blink of an eye, trying to rub the sleep off your face and scoot away from him. 

Haechan scoffs under his breath, painting that bitterness with irony, “It’s nice to know you didn’t change.” 

You chuckle awkwardly and then jump off the bed. 

“No, definitely didn’t change,” he whispers when you run away from his fingers again. He wants to block you in, to stop you from slipping away, but if he couldn’t do it months ago, he doesn’t see how he can do it now. After all, you’ve never been his. This isn’t different from what you used to do in the morning, now he looks at you and can see that nothing changed. You’re up, putting your hair in a ponytail, rushing to the bathroom to wash up, and he knows you won’t even come back into the room, but run downstairs to have breakfast. 

You are long gone and he doesn’t even know how and why he lost you. Maybe it’s better like this, maybe all this silence coming from you can give him a reason to hate you and move on. 

But moving on from you seems something impossible to do. 

From that moment on, you two decide you can go back to at least be friends and hang out in the same group again. It’s not exactly like before, but it’s better than silence and distance. 

Or maybe not. 

You can’t stand that Haechan doesn’t sit next to you anymore, he’s always on the other side with Wonyoung, and you can’t bet on it, but you fear that his hand is now resting on her thigh and you hate it. 

You don’t show it, not with words, but your body is a neon sign flashing that you don’t want to be there, especially when everyone leaves to take on the dance floor and you’re left with your thoughts. 

“Why are you always alone?” Mark asks. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Minjeong, but I can still see you’re beautiful and hot, why are you the only single one?” 

“The only one?” That’s the only thing your brain registers, making you stare at him with eyes too wide to make it pass like a normal reaction. 

“Well, it seems that even Hyuck found someone that can stand his annoying ass,” he jokes, pointing at him and Wonyoung. 

“Oh, I didn’t get they were official,” you whisper, your lips quiver, making it look like a smile but it’s pure sadness. 

“So it seems, he’s quite private over this.” 

You hum and feel your heart break into million pieces again. It shouldn’t hit you so hard and leave you trembling, but it does. 

“What about you?” 

You shrug, rubbing your arms. “I’m the problem, that’s why I’m single.” 

Mark chuckles tenderly, sitting next to you. “So, you’re heartbroken.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Was it serious?” 

“It wasn’t even started.” 

“Oh, well, isn’t that better? Maybe it wasn’t even love,” he attempts to lift you up, trying to see it from another perspective. “A lot of times what we tend to consider love is not it. It’s just a lie, something else dressed up as a feeling that is not that deep.” 

Yeah, you wish it was it. 

“Yeah, surely,” you reply, by now there are no emotions in your voice. “I don’t care, I moved on. I just hate sitting here while looking miserable.” 

“Why don’t you go talk to someone? I think that girl at the bar is looking at you?” 

“Maybe,” you whisper, not even caring to follow his finger to see the girl that is, in fact, looking at you. “Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom before hitting on people I don’t know,” you joke, smiling at him and letting a laugh follow. 

Mark copies you before his hand touches your arm and pats it gently. “It will be fine.” 

You nod before pulling your lips into another forced smile. You hope so. 

You don’t walk toward the bar, your want to even find someone that can take you home is nowhere to be found, and you sit in a corner to stare at Haechan from afar. He can’t be in love with her, right? But then again, why shouldn’t he? 

That torture lasts for a while, and when you think you paid the price for your sin, you grab your things and exit. Sure, you intend to go inside again, Johnny dropped you there, but not now. You need to cool off, and shut your brain. You don’t know how, your method was Haechan but now he is the reason why your mind keeps running a thousand miles per hour. 

You’ll find a way, you always did. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” Haechan says, leaning next to you against the wall. 

A grin curls your lips, and you partly open your eyes to make sure he’s real and not made up by your mind. He is very much real, with his denim jacket that doesn’t keep him any warm and his — now black — hair falling on his face, while his eyes look at you with too much concern. “I tend to self-sabotage a lot,” you whisper, huffing out the air, “you should know it.” 

“Yeah, not like this.” 

“Hey, I was smoking it!” You scream when he slaps your hand, not hard to hurt you, but hard enough to make the cigarette fall to the ground. 

“Since when?” 

You roll your eyes, watching the cig on the floor becoming completely useless now that he’s stepping on it, and then you shrug, “I don’t smoke, some guy offered it to me, and I wanted to see if it has any kick.”

“Why?” 

“Why do you care? I’m not your problem.” Your eyes are not on him, staring straight into the night that falls upon the road in front of you, but you can feel his stare burning into your skin. Also, he’s close, and you’re not used to having him this close anymore. 

He snorts and you glare at him, but that doesn’t faze him. “You said you were doing fine; it doesn’t look like it.” 

“I’m just tired, I want to go home, that’s it.” 

“You barely talked, danced, or did anything the whole night,” he points out, rubbing his chin and raising a brow.

“Oh, so you don’t only have eyes for your girlfriend,” you spit out before you can realize it. 

“Girlfriend?” He tilts his head, and his lips twitch into a barely visible smirk.

“Yeah, the fake blonde.” 

Haechan laughs, “Jealous, babe?” 

“No. And don’t call me babe. I’m not your problem and I’m not your babe.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he says resolutely. 

“Oh, well, ‘cause she’s all over your dick so it looked like.” 

Another laugh rolls from his lips, this time louder and without a nervous grin hidden behind. “You are jealous.” 

“I’m not,” you retort, frowning.

“You were the one all over my dick, and you decided to stop that.” 

“I wasn’t like that. I was on your dick, having the best orgasms of my life, but I never humiliated myself in front of you doing silly voices, calling you Haechannieee, or touching you as if you were about to be kidnapped by the aliens and I wouldn’t have had the chance to see you ever again, or looked at you with those eyes that could — well, you get the picture.” 

“Oh, I do. You are so fucking jealous and it’s kinda turning me on, I have to admit,” he teases you with a smug smirk on his face.  

“Shut up, asshole,” you smack his arm. “Go back to her.” 

“Nah, the aliens are kidnapping me, I guess she’ll have to spend the rest of the night alone.” 

You glare at him, eyes dropping on your intertwined arms in disbelief when he links them and starts walking away from there. 

“Come on, I’m hungry,” he urges, pushing you with more force. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, gesturing nervously with your hands and looking back at the club that was disappearing behind you. 

“Taking you to our favourite hamburger place, I could eat you right now for how starved I am.” 

“I wouldn’t complain,” you wink shamelessly.   

“Not like that,” he says. “I’m not sure you deserve it after the way you behaved.” 

You huff but follow him, keeping up with his fast steps, until you reach his car and jump inside. It’s been a while since you’ve been there, and when you stop and think about what happened in the backseats your body heats up, but you try not to think about that, and instead turn on the heater and the music how you like. Haechan only laughs lowly, and you know he doesn’t mind, after all these months he knows you can pass as bossy sometimes, and like things in a certain way, so he lets you. 

“I told you I’m sorry and you said it was fine,” you retort, not letting his remark of before go unnoticed. 

“You just don’t read me, do you? Like, fuck, you are hard to read but I’m an open book and you truly think that shit didn’t hurt?” 

“I think it hurt you that’s why I felt like shit, and that’s why with each passing day I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. I get scared when things go well, and it’s not right, it’s not healthy, and I know I hurt you, but I’m sorry, I truly am. You can ask Johnny, he knows it.” 

“Yeah, I know he knows.” 

“You know he knows?” You scream. It is always Johnny’s fault.

“I know he knows,” he replies with too much calm for your liking. “He had to spill something when I thought you hated me, and I couldn’t sleep thinking about what I could’ve done wrong. He told me you didn’t hate me, that you are dumb and don’t know how to deal with anything in your life that doesn’t follow exactly the path you traced, and I thought ‘oh yeah, seems fitting of her, not surprised’ and moved on… well, tried to.” 

“Oh,” you gasp. 

“Oh?” He snorts, shaking his head. “All you can say?” 

“Do you want me to spend the whole ride saying I’m an asshole?” 

Haechan laughs, “It would be entertaining but I will save you from humiliation.” 

“Thanks,” you utter, looking out of the window and grinning. This is wild, all over the place, and smells like the calm before the storm, but you like it because you’re back with him by your side. 

When you arrive at what used to be your place, you sit at your table while he orders your usual. For him, a double cheeseburger and for you, the big fries’ portion with a sauce that only that place makes — that you would’ve shared with him but only if he begged well enough. 

“I missed this,” he whispers after a few minutes when you’re both halfway through your order.  

“The burger? Yeah, I missed this sauce, God, I will find someone that sells this.” 

“I missed this, dumbass,” he says, and you feel your heart in your throat when your eyes meet, and he has that glint that you love so much. It’s like a light shining through, and some softness that only shows up in certain moments, you still don’t know what causes it, but you love it.

“Oh, I… I missed this too,” you mumble, diverting the gaze and cleaning your mouth with the napkin to keep yourself busy.

“Wow, wow, wow, wait, you? Getting a tiny, little, small, fainty, invisible bit sentimental?” 

“Stupid! You make me look like a heartless bitch.” 

Haechan raises his brows and cocks his head to the side.

“Don’t look at me with that face. You know I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

“I broke my rules for you!” You confess in the heat of the moment, raising your voice, the last words coming out in a squeak. 

Oh, shit.

Haechan is confused and you don’t know how to save yourself. 

“Rules?” He asks with a frown as he stops midway with his hamburger in hand. 

“It’s nothing,” you shrug, grabbing the cola and bringing it to your lips.

He swallows, shaking his head to try to understand if he got it right. “You had rules?” 

“I didn’t.” You try to focus on the fries now, but even the window looks tempting, it’s near and you could easily escape from there and ghost him agai—

“So, maybe you are not a cold, heartless, emotionless, impenetrable, untouchable, person after all?” 

You sigh, rubbing your neck, and giving up the escape plan. Like the old times, you can give him what he wants without actually giving him what he wants, right? Just a small peek into yourself and then he’s out. “I let you sleep in my bed, only three people had the honour, Johnny, unfortunately my ex, and you.” 

Haechan’s lips curl up and his nose twitches. “You are the sweetest person for breaking your rule.” 

“That’s not a rule,” you lie but this time he falls for it.

“Then what were the rules?” 

“Just eat, and then let’s go home. You’re so curious for no reason.” 

“Yeah, you shared too much tonight, would never want to stress you,” he jokes before stealing one of your fries and send you a flying kiss. 

“Thanks for the food,” you say when you both reach the door of your apartment. He usually wouldn’t come out of the car to walk you to the door of the complex, and even less he would reach the apartment door. But you didn’t stop him when he followed you in the elevator, you didn’t even flinch, almost as if that was how it was supposed to be. 

“Nothing,” he smiles. “It was fun, talking and you know, just us, like the old times.” 

You chuckle tenderly, nodding while trying to find the courage to ask one more thing, “Want to come in?” 

“I don’t have a toothbrush at your place,” he laughs, reminding you that in the heat of the rush, you never went back to pick up all your things at his place. 

“I should have a new one in the cabinet.” 

Things go back to normal after that. You’re not sure it’s healthy, considering you didn’t confess your feelings, aren’t sure he feels the same, he had to be honest with Wonyoung without making any names because you two still want this to be private, and the only confrontations you had on your detachment were those two talks. But it’s fine. 

The good sex is back. Haechan is back. You are back. The tension in the air is gone and you can enjoy the nights out without Mark worrying about you looking more dead than alive. And Johnny thinks you finally let loose. 

But you didn’t. Some fears still linger inside of you and sometimes are stronger than others times. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, “do you really have to push me against the metal bar?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Haechan laughs, pulling away from the kiss. 

“Don’t laugh! This furniture is a menace to society, you need to find something else to put in your entrance,” you say, rubbing your back. 

“If you weren’t horny like a bunny and waited at least to the couch to jump on me, I wouldn’t push you against it,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and starting to walk into the leaving room. 

“I can’t stand you,” you whisper through the kiss, struggling to get him out of his clothes, but after a while, almost everything is scattered on the floor of his living room and you two are rushing to his bedroom. 

“Is it softer for my princess?” He teases when he pushes you down on the mattress and hovers over you. 

You roll your eyes but still hum. “I have the back of an 80-year-old, you need to respect that.” 

“Doesn’t look like it when I fuck you all night,” he laughs. 

“Should we test it?” You’re done playing around. After a dinner out, and an hour driving around town, because you wanted to see the city lights, you needed him. The flirts were unbearable and also it had been the longest week of your life. 

And Haechan doesn’t make you repeat it twice, his hands reach your panties and slip between your legs, meeting the wetness that’s collected there. He doesn’t even bother to pull your underwear down, he pushes two fingers into your welcoming warm entrance and starts pumping in and out right away. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, staring in awe between your legs, “you take me so fucking well. Missed my fingers? That’s why you sent those photos the other day, ‘cause yours aren’t enough anymore and you were hoping I would’ve rushed here to fuck you.” 

You curse, “Don’t act as if you didn’t start it.” 

He scoffs, “It was just a hand pic, needed to know your opinion about the new watch and rings.” 

“And the thighs picture?” You try to sound menacing, but his fingers are making your voice tremble, and picturing those images in your mind doesn’t help you either. 

“Liked the new grey shorts? They’re pretty, right?” 

“Fuck off, Haechan,” you gasp, and he laughs deeply. 

“It’s so easy to mess with you,” he coos, leaning in to leave a peck on your lips. “Was the jacking off video enough to make it up for the teasing?” 

“No,” you cry out. He couldn’t play with you like that, sending you a video of him fucking his fist while he moaned and whimpered. You had spent the past six days replaying it, waiting for this moment to come, and even if he was so hot even through the camera, you needed to feel him inside, outside, everywhere.  

“Is this enough?” 

“Yes,” you moan, opening your eyes to meet his. “Just — fuck — go faster, please.” 

His lips curl upward while his two fingers start moving at a faster speed, you almost come on the spot when he presses a hand on top of your stomach and moves his thumb in circles on your clit. Your whimpered ‘too much’ gets shut down when his lips fall on yours and start kissing you. You feel lightweight, entire body reacting to his touches and kisses, playing you like a violin. His mouth is delicate and addictive and you find yourself thinking nobody ever kissed you like that. You can’t put a name on whatever ‘that’ is, but you love it. 

“Why are you kissing me like that?” 

“Like what?” He whispers, huffing air against your wet lips and staring straight into your eyes. 

Like you mean it. 

“Nothing, just —” your lips meet his again while your fingers tangle in his hair and his free hand runs on your smaller back, pushing you flat against him. “Fuck.” You feel his digits deeper and your brain starts spinning faster while your boobs rise fast trapped in the lingerie that is still on your body. 

“Hyuck,” you cry out, reaching his wrist to slow his movement since you feel too sensitive. 

“I’m not stopping, babe. You’ve been thinking about this for days.” 

“I — I know but —”

He shushes you again with kisses while he moves your hips so he can hit exactly where he wants, making you scream out when his fingertips start slamming quickly against your sweet spot. You are breathless and you feel your stomach tighten while your legs spread to give him space to give you everything. 

“Come for me, come on,” he encourages, pressing delicate kisses on your rising chest and whispering praises. 

Your scream pierces the bedroom of his apartment when one twist of his wrist makes your high explode. Your nails dig deep into his arm in response as the sensations feel overwhelming when he doesn’t stop right away, making sure he’s getting every last drop out of you. 

“Hyu-hyuck, enough — enough, please,” you snarl, hips bucking up in erratic motions that make him smirk proudly. 

“I have a surprise for you,” he says before licking his fingers clean after he pulled out of you reluctantly. He loved making you come with his fingers only, watching them move past your pussy, while your cum coated them and dripped down his wrist and your ass, he loved how he could be all over you. 

You don’t reply but you feel it’s something to be afraid of since he’s looking at you with a devilish grin on his face. 

“Wanna see it?” He smirks, jumping off the bed and shoving his boxers down, finally giving you a sight of his hard throbbing dick. 

You hum lowly in reply, forcing your eyes up from between his thighs and following him with your gaze as he walks to the closet and roams through something before he comes back to you with one hand behind his back. 

“You’re scaring me,” you breathe out. 

“I’m sure you’ll love it.” 

Your mouth opens in surprise when he pulls out a small wand vibrator. It’s not the first time you use a toy, though you never had a vibrator of that kind, you’re just worried about what he wants to do with that. 

“You won’t edge me, right?” 

“Why not?” He asks, starting to jerk his hard cock, collecting pre-cum and making it fall on your lower stomach. “You look so pretty when no coherent words come out of your mouth and your eyes are empty… well, filled with lust and me, but empty of anything else.” 

You groan, about to lift your torso but he pushes you back right away. “Don’t move,” he orders sternly, caressing your inner thigh as he slowly drags your panties down, leaving you bare, and then pulls you closer. His cock brushes over your pussy, but that’s not where you need him. 

Haechan laughs, seeing the desperation in your eyes, finding it funny you’re truly thinking he won’t fuck you. “Honey, I need this pussy just as much as you need my cock, I won’t disappoint you,” he groans and then drives his hips back to align himself to your gaping entrance. 

“Why do you always make me wait,” you cry out. 

“Because it wouldn’t be funny otherwise,” he clicks his tongue, wrapping a hand on the base of his dick and then smearing your wetness everywhere on your pussy, but he doesn’t slip in. “Should we try this new toy before?” 

You huff loudly, rolling your head back and the laugh that resonates through his ribcage makes you want to slap him but you’re left breathless once again when the vibrator starts buzzing right against your clit. 

“Shit,” you curse, fingers gripping the sheets tightly and toes curling. “Haechan.” 

“Yeah, that’s my name,” he taunts, playing with the different speeds and you know that’s not the first time he had the toy in hand, he doesn’t need to try it, he just wants to drive you insane, keeping you on the edge as the rhythm keeps changing and the fat tip of his cock is still pressing halfway into your cunt. 

“Please,” you beg, opening your closed eyes and struggling to even breathe out that single word as he keeps messing with you. 

“Please, what?” He leans down, he’s so close your noses almost touch and his breath hits your lips. “Use your words, babe.” 

You inhale deeply, breathe breaking in the middle when he goes back to the higher frequency and you come on the spot, stilling as the rushes of pleasure invade your body and put a proud smirk on his face. 

“Was that what you wanted?” He questions, kindly lowering the vibrations and pushing just a bit more of his tip into you. 

“No,” you cry out, “want you.” 

He quirks a brow, caressing your cheeks gently and kissing your lips. “Will you ask nicely?” He says, but when you only part your lips to let out sinful sounds and barely shake your head, he snaps. “I’m sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear,” he fakes a sweet tone before he growls and slaps your clit, “ask nicely.” 

You gasp, feeling sparks rush through you when the spank hits. “Please, Haechan, please fuck me. I — I need you to fuck me. I’ve been — shit — thinking about you all week, wanted to — to feel your body and — nggh — your touch, please.” You feel on the verge of tears as the vibrator keeps going on your clit and the man between your legs is barely inside you. 

But maybe that’s enough for him, maybe you did great and he will give you what you want. 

“How much do you need me?” 

Or maybe not. 

“So much, so, so, so much. I dreamed of you, day and night, mhh,” you swallow a moan, fighting against another orgasm. “Fuck me ‘til I forget my name, please?” 

Haechan moans, bottoming into you in a second, finally giving you what you deserve.

“Oh, God,” you gasp out when he fills you up, feeling overflowing with emotions. “Please, fuck me,” you don’t waste time begging again. You need him to move, to send you into the spiral of emptiness and fullness only he can push you into. 

“I leave you starving for a week or less and you go completely crazy,” he mocks, picking up the rhythm he knows you love while he keeps the toy in place. “My greedy baby, aren’t you?” 

You’re deep down that spiral because that sweet, condescending tone and the possessive pronoun don’t make you mad but instead, they make your heart jump to your throat and your heat clench around him. 

He smirks when you don’t reply and angles your hips better so he can reach where he has you trembling. 

“You’re making a mess, fuck,” he groans, drifting his gaze from your face to look between your legs. “You love this toy. Picked a nice gift, haven’t I?” 

The teasing, bragging tone of his voice would make you talk back to him but you can’t say much. The intermitted buzzing of the toy and the never-ending pounding of his dick are driving you wild. Your head is rolled back and you don’t even care to shut down your moans, fuck the neighbours, after you two heard them fuck for three hours straight last week this was fair payback. 

“Hyuck,” you cry louder when he changes the rhythm again and this time the vibration builds up slowly before crashing down, kinda like waves. “You’ll — fuck — too good.”

“I’ll what, babe?” He grins. “Make you come again? Drive you insane?” 

You nod, jaw slack because you feel like you can’t breathe in enough air. And when the nth orgasm breaks through, tears erupt down your face. Haechan’s gentle enough to pull the toy away, probably not cause it’s a genuine move of heart but only because he’s too lost in your blissed face. 

“Fuck,” he curses, shakily moving his fingers to caress your wet cheeks. The last time he saw you cry wasn’t a great view, and it was because of an asshole, but this time he is the reason for those tears, and they look so beautiful on your pretty, overwhelmed face. He thinks he loves when you get so vulnerable with him, he doesn’t even care that you only get like this during sex, he still has that power over you, and knowing you, this is already the biggest sign of trust you can gift him. “You’re so pretty, you know?” 

A dumb smile paints on your face as your hands reach for him to pull him closer. You feel like your brain is melting and your bones are ashes but you want to feel that skin-on-skin contact more. You want him all over you, deeper into you, seeping into the smallest creases of you so that you can’t wash him away for days. 

Haechan moans your name in a heated kiss when you clench around him. “Taking me so fucking well, that’s my good girl,” he praises, pushing back again on your lips. “My good girl.” 

“Yours,” you whimper through moans and sobs. 

“Yeah, mine,” he whispers back, changing the angle of his thrust so he can hit your sweet spot better and exactly how you like. But right now is just too much for you, between your clit being endlessly stimulated, his cock hitting deep into you and his lips and hands on your body, you’re sure you can’t drag this longer. 

“Don’t you fucking dare pull away, hands off,” he scolds, swatting your hand away when you try to get between him and the vibrator. 

“It’s too much,” you whimper, “I can’t anymore.” 

“Yes, you can, babe. Just one more,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you softly to calm you down. “Can you take one more for me?” He still checks, slowing his movements and slowing down the speed of the wand. 

You hum, breathing out a choked positive answer and he smiles happily, picking up his ministrations inside of you and on your lips. “Good girl,” he praises, “taking it all, taking me so well. I —” he stops, panic flicking behind his eyes but yours are closed and you’re too lost to feel the same rush of fear into you. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Your heart jumps in your chest, and you feel like you could melt. Praises have never done anything to you until they started coming out of his mouth. They didn’t feel like a mock anymore, or like a nicety said just to be cliché and repeat some erotica-porn-type catchphrase. You know he means it. 

Your eyes snap open when he starts fucking you faster, turning the vibration at that high setting and never changing it until you would’ve been done. Curse spill from your lips, but Haechan catches them all inside his mouth. He doesn’t do it to keep you silent, Mark’s not home anyway, he does it for another reason. Almost as if he’s addicted to your lips, or you. 

“Hyuck,” you breathe out. 

“I know, baby. I know,” he coos before sticking his face in the crook of your neck to smear wet pecks on your skin. “Come with me, okay?” 

You hum, shaking your head in quick motions and trapping your lower lip in your teeth because you know your moans would be screams by now, and before the neighbours might mislead this beautiful sex for a crime scene, you try to keep it under control. Haechan is not as careful as you, his velvety, deep moans slip freely and you can’t blame him, your pussy must be gripping him tighter than ever before and be just as wet, the lewd wet sounds are a clear indication of how turned on you are. 

And something between all that makes you both reach your climax, panting and squirming against each other before you go slack on the mattress and he collapses on top of you, thoughtful enough to turn off the toy and threw it at the side of the bed. 

You feel lost in a haze when you turn around and snuggle closer to him, breathing in his scent and running your fingers on his chest. You look up and see him smiling lazily at you, and you reciprocate. 

“You amaze me sometimes,” he whispers mindlessly, letting his hand run on your back, reaching your hair to brush some strands, following their natural pattern. 

You chuckle, “For taking your cock so well?” 

He snorts, rolling his eyes and leaning closer to you; the temptation to kiss you is strong, and weirdly enough you still haven’t moved back, but he knows he can’t risk it. “For taking everything I give you so well.” 

“Fair.” 

You stay there for a while more, waiting for your bodies to recharge a bit but the more he holds you in his arms the more you feel sleep take over you. But you both know you can’t sleep in those conditions, so Haechan breaks the magic. 

“Should we order something to eat and in the meanwhile take a bath?” 

You stretch, and hum. “If you carry me to the bathroom.” 

Once he has ordered food and you’re both sitting in the bathtub, you let the warmth of the water wrap around you. It feels nice after the exhausting sex, and you love the scent of Haechan’s body wash, you love feeling his arms around you and his hands on you. 

There’s nothing sexual about this, he’s delicately cleaning you with the sponge while you talk about stupid things and make jokes. 

It’s warm. And safe. And special. 

It’s different. 

From anything else that ever happened before with anybody else, and even with him. And you think you might get used to this. 

To a home, not a house. 

To a place to come back to that’s full of life and love. 

To him, and his laugh, and his voice, and his clothes scattered around, and his screams when he loses against his friends. 

You truly believe you could get used to this. 

But all the fears you have to face still appear like an insurmountable wall that menaces crashing on you. 

Haechan has no intention of letting it slide this time. When he can’t reach you through call, when you still don’t answer his texts after five days, he knows he won’t write pathetic, heartbroken messages to you to let you go again. 

He’s mad, furious, even, and once again, he can’t understand you. 

You were back together, better than before, closer than before, and now, you’re gone without a word another time.

He doesn’t bother to text you to warn you, he’s pretty sure if you knew he was coming, you would’ve escaped to the other side of the world, leaving no traces behind. So he’s standing at your door, ringing the bell with no patience, and huffing loudly. 

When the door opens and you murmur a curse after blabbering Johnny’s name because you were expecting to find him, your eyes widen. 

“Haechan?” You whisper, throat dry and hand shaking on the knob. 

He doesn’t say anything, he pushes you to the side and enters the place. 

“Haechan, I can —” you start, but his glare stops you. 

“Why do you always ruin everything good?” His voice is shaking and so are his lips, quivering even now that he’s not talking anymore. 

And you’re frozen. You’re not ready for this. You didn’t prepare a speech before, you don’t have an explanation about your personality and you two. You spent the last five days working and worrying because things went wrong once again because you let him too close and now he is there, waiting for an answer you were never able to give yourself.

“I said,” he starts, “why do you ruin everything good?” 

“I don’t…” 

Haechan groans loudly, throwing his head back and turning around because he can’t stand your face, your tears rolling down your cheeks as if you’re the victim in this, and probably partially you are, but why can’t you let him in? Why can’t you explain it to him? Whatever is bothering you and making you stab him repeatedly. He just wants to know why before he lets you go, but it seems you don’t even know how to do that. 

“You ran away from us another time and you can’t give me an explanation?”

“I’m scared, okay? What’s between us is… is not going where I planned it to go and it’s becoming so much. I just don’t know what to do,” you try to explain, trying to keep your composure and don’t shake like a leaf. 

Haechan scoffs in disbelief, but the truth is that he’s feeling an abnormal amount of pain just looking into your eyes. “What’s there to know? I thought we were fine. I… I came back to you as if nothing happened, as if you didn’t leave me without a word. I hurt an innocent person all because I wanted to be with you, in any way, I don’t care. I didn’t even want apologies or anything, I just wanted you and I thought we were doing fine but to you, fine is never enough.”

“It was enough, it is. I — I think it’s too much. I don’t know how to deal with this. With you,” you reason, and it’s hard to look into his eyes when you can see all the pain you’re causing.  

“I thought…” he stops, backtracking on his own words because none of this makes sense. You never show signs of discomfort when you’re together, you used to bicker much more at the start than now, so your words sound crazy to his ears. “Why can’t you tell me this when I do things that are too much for you?” 

“Because they aren’t too much when they happen. I like what we have.” 

“Then why do you run away?” He can’t keep his voice low, and those words come out in a scream full of bitter incredulity. 

You break into a cry, but you immediately stop yourself, forcing the tears back in your eyes and the sobs down your throat. Once again you can’t give him an answer, just a useless apology. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, keeping eye contact no matter how much it hurts because you need him to know you’re being honest, you’re not lying or putting up walls. It’s just hard to tear down the ones you already have built around yourself.  

“No, you’re not,” he retorts, voice lower. “It happened twice, Jesus Christ, twice. You can go back to your ex, the one who treated you like shit, but you can’t at least warn me when you need some time alone.” 

You shake your head, pressing your lips flat to hold in the cries. “I don’t need some time alone. I’m confused and overwhelmed.” 

“By what?” Haechan urges again, nervously moving in small steps on the spot, feeling like he could explode at any minute. 

“Everything. All of this is new to me and I… I’m trying to be a better person. I’m trying not to hurt the ones that I love, and don’t fuck everything up, but I can’t. Everything I touch becomes sick and dies and… and I don’t know what to do.”

Haechan is confused. He thought that what you had had never been better than this, so why is it so different for you? Why are your points of view so far from one another and distorted? Maybe that is the problem, after all, you are too different from each other, not compatible, and it will never work. “But I don’t get you, I’ve tried, I swear, I did, but it’s like — it’s like there’s a wall and I can’t get past it.” 

You groan, throwing your head back, but you know that if it’s difficult for you to explain it must be ten times harder for him to understand. “It’s hard for me.” 

“But why? I thought I was better than your ex, why are you pushing me away?” He knows he’s not perfect, but he’s never done anything to hurt you, moreover, he always tried everything to protect you and make you feel good, and that went beyond sex. He thought it was clear, but apparently, it was all to waste. 

You’re short of words, struggling to come up with an answer. “Because, because, fuck, I’ve never felt like this before. You fucked me up in a way no one else ever did. It’s pathetic the way you make me weak. The way… the way my walls come crashing down when I’m with you.” 

“Oh, really?” It’s a scoff, full of sarcasm, mockery and resentment and it’s even followed by a click of the tongue. 

Your voice falters as tears break free from your eyes. Of course, he doesn’t believe you. Of course, he can’t know how much you showed of yourself, parts of you nobody else has ever seen. “They do. You simply don’t pry in, you don’t push me to my limits to make me let you in but the door for you is wide open. I feel… I’m vulnerable.” You stop, taking a deep breath. “When I’m with you, I’m vulnerable.”

Haechan shakes his head, thinking you can’t be serious. The only time you have been vulnerable was because of your ex, and the other times you opened up, well, he’s not so sure you told him anything true. “And yet I still don’t get you, and I’m starting to think I’ll never will because… you act like a child running away when nothing happens. What do you do when things go wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” you cry, sliding down on the floor, covering your face with your closed fist. You don’t let things in your life go wrong, because they already went wrong years ago and you can’t even risk for a tragedy to happen again. That’s why you need rules, order, and peace. “I’ve never had something like, something like… this,” you confess, looking at him. “I’ve never had someone like you.” Haechan. The opposite of what you needed until now to survive. There were no rules with him, no order and no peace, but strangely enough, all his opposites didn’t bring you war. Yet, that doesn’t calm you, something about all of this feels like a bomb to you and he still doesn’t understand you. 

The heavy sigh that comes from his lips makes you look away. “So, you run when things are good? Will you keep leaving me? Do I have to come running to you, looking for you, not knowing if you want me or if I should leave you space?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Haechan almost yells. “Stop saying that, it’s infuriating.” 

“But I truly have no idea. I just told you. I could tell you about me, but why would you want to listen?” 

“Because I love you?” He screams, jaw dropping as he realizes what he said. “Fuck, there, I said it, and I scared you away once and for all, but honestly, I can’t keep doing this any longer. I love you. I don’t know why but I guess I am dumb and always fall for the people I can’t have. But I do. And I would love to sit here and listen to you because, guess what, I want this to work out. Because that’s what normal people do. They talk and they listen. They don’t run away.” 

“You — you love me?” 

Haechan takes a deep breath, and a tear rolls down his eyes as he hums, nodding. “And you don’t have to say anything, I don’t care if you don’t love me back, but that’s why I hate when you act like this because you don’t let good things come at you in life, I might not be your happy event but…” 

“But?” 

“Grow up.” 

Your breath gets stuck in your throat and more tears flood your face, blurring your view. Those words feel like a gunshot straight to your heart and you can’t believe you’re hearing them from him. You know that wasn’t his initial thought, but he doesn’t backtrack. 

“Grow up because you need to learn how to deal with this shit, whatever it is, whatever is making you act like this. Excuses and apologies are not enough. You might not hurt people on purpose, but you still do and I…” 

“No, please,” you scream when Haechan starts walking to the door swiftly, opening it before you can even make him out. “Don’t leave,” you cry, struggling to stand on your knees. “Don’t leave me, too.” 

He stops and turns around gulping but shaking his head. 

“I need to be alone,” his voice is broken and he’s clearly holding back tears, and you’d like to run in his arms and hug him, but, once again, the rational part of you is holding you back, so you let him go, like you let go every other person of your life, with the difference you didn’t care about them as you care about him. 

“I can’t keep defending you,” Johnny confesses while he stares at your crying face. You called him sobbing, muttering a few words, but he didn’t need more to come rushing to you. He didn’t even need you to explain, he knew. Haechan had this over-dramatic way of reacting, posting sad Instagram stories with depressing and heart-wrenching songs, and everything led back to you. Also, he had told him he ‘broke’ everything with Wonyoung and Johnny saw how you two were close once again. So, you must’ve fucked it up once again and that was why you two were here. 

“You don’t have to,” you weep, hiding your face in his chest, and wrapping your arms around his broad back, deeply hoping he would crash you with his arms and you would stop suffering for all your poor decisions. 

“You can’t keep sabotaging yourself,” he says, caressing your scalp in circular motions, knowing that always makes you calm down. “I can’t keep seeing you like this.” 

“I was never like this.” 

Johnny sighs, “You might not cry but if you think that I don’t know your fucked up coping mechanism, you’re wrong. And we know well it’s not only about love. Everything good that happens in your life you have to turn into a curse. Why?” 

“I don’t know.” You know it well, and weirdly it isn’t even in your power. 

“You had an offer of a job you loved and you lost it all because you thought you were undeserving and played humble, and let’s not talk about the days before the interview you spent feeling sick because you thought you weren’t good enough for it.”

A broken sniffle rolls from your lips. 

“Do we have to go back to the school years?” 

“No, thanks.” You don’t need a reminder, the years of tears and stress that you doubled for the standards you set for yourself are still weighing on you, so you don’t want to go back there mentally. 

“And love… why do you think you don’t deserve love?” 

“I don’t think I don’t deserve it. I never felt something so strong and I’m afraid. What if… what if we’re both not ready to settle down and be serious with this? What if it will break my heart?” 

Johnny chuckles, “And what if he’s the love of your life?” 

“Oh,” you whisper, your heart speeding up just thinking about it. The long-term scared you, that was why you ran away. You love how you feel good when you’re with him, but you’re terrified it won’t last and once the spell expires you will be left in the ashes. 

“The only certain things in life are taxes, if you’re not a rich asshole, and death, but everything else? It’s a shot in the dark. Don’t you think some risks are worth taking?” 

“But it will hurt.” 

“And isn’t it hurting already?” 

“Oh.” 

Johnny smiles, caressing your cheek. “Why are you so worried about the future? You can’t make it perfect. You can’t have control over everything, little bird.” 

“Don’t call me little bird,” you say, emitting a sound mixed with a sniffle and a chuckle. 

“You are. And you still didn’t learn how to fly. But if you don’t fly, how will you live?” 

You sigh, rubbing your hands on your face before biting your nails nervously. 

“Listen,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and gently whispering your name to make you look at him. “I know why you want to have control so badly. I know why you think that if you plan it all before, think about all the things that could go wrong, and torture yourself into thinking that you can have power over the wilderness of the world and destiny, nothing else will go wrong, but it’s not like this. We both know it.” 

You sob louder, knowing exactly what he’s talking about, eyes dropping to the floor as guilt plunges your heart again. “I could’ve saved him.” 

“No, you couldn’t have. Some things are just not in our power. I blamed myself too, so many times. But I swore to him I would’ve protected you over anything, and if that anything is yourself and your fears, I will protect you from you.” 

You wish you could feel better at his words, but they only make more tears stream down your face. “If I didn’t call him, if I… if I had someone to come home with this wou—” 

“It would’ve happened,” Johnny stops you. “You’re not that powerful, little bird. I’m sorry,” he chuckles, wiping your tears away. “None of us is. And it’s all about luck, and just occasionally about merits. So, if life sent Haechan to you, don’t make him slip away.” 

“But every time I followed my instinct things went terribly, I feel like I carry so much bad luck around me sometimes.” 

Johnny only hugs you for a while, caressing your back and lulling you in his arms. “When you were a kid and let the sea carry you too far away?” 

“My father almost died.” 

“But he didn’t.” 

“Yes, but then… you know what happened.” 

“And it wasn’t your fault. After that you never let emotions carry you, you never let someone deep into you because you think everyone could betray you, and unless you have everything written down you don’t do a thing. You hide it quite well, you almost seem normal from the outside.” 

You laugh lightly and hug him tighter. You don’t feel better, but maybe he’s right, maybe this is your chance to change your life and stop living in fear. 

“So, what do I do?” 

“You let Haechan in, maybe explain something to him so he puts his mind at ease because I think that both Adele and Taylor Swift’s discographies are about to end, he seemed rather depressed in his stories.” 

“And if it goes wrong?” 

“At least you tried.” 

A heavy sigh rolls from your lips as you stare blankly at the floor, nervously biting the inside of your cheeks and, once again, trying to think faster than life, maybe if you change your plans, it would count as if you still made them, right? Or maybe this time there is no plan, and it’s right like this. 

“I only promised him one thing, and I’m not going to take my words back, little bird. He wanted you to live, to be free, and to be loved. On the way to you, he called me, ranting furiously about how he would’ve killed your stupid boyfriend if he saw him somewhere because nobody could hurt you. He only wanted someone that was right for you. I’m sure he would love Haechan, and who knows, maybe Hyuck is truly sent from above.” 

When your closed fist crashes against Haechan’s front door to knock on it you feel like you could pass out. You keep torturing the inside of your cheeks, chewing the flesh nervously, while your right foot nervously bounces against the cold floor. 

You slightly jump back when the door opens and your eyes meet with his. 

“Who’s — Oh, it’s you,” he whispers and he almost sounds disappointed, you wouldn’t bet on it, but his eyes are not looking at you like they usually would and that makes you regret even more that you came. 

“Can we talk?” Your voice is weak and hardly comes out, vocal cords shaking like your body. “No, we need to talk. Please,” you add to don’t sound too rude, it’s the last thing you can be, given the position you’re in. 

Haechan sighs, rubbing his face and then moving to the side to let you in. The house is dark, the only light comes from outside, and dead quiet. 

“Why are you here?” He questions, crossing his arms and watching as you’re about to sit on the sofa. You stop halfway and gulp, standing up again and clinging to your purse. “You can sit.” 

You do, fixing your clothes and looking down at the floor. 

“So? I don’t have all day,” he urges and the coldness of his voice is the tenth bad sign that’s screaming you shouldn’t do this. 

“About us.” 

Haechan chuckles, it’s a bitter laugh, trapped in the back of his throat while his eyes roll to the sky and his head shakes. “Us? Now you decided there’s an us?” 

You bite your lower lip and clench your fists. “Please, just let me explain.” 

“Sure, can’t wait to hear some other bullshit you’ll have to tell me before disappearing forever,” he says, sitting in front of you, and the distance feels unbearable. You had never seen him this cold, not even when you went back to the coastal town this winter. 

“Listen, I’m here to talk like adults, okay? Can we please stop being childish and put the pride away for just an hour? Then I’ll leave if you want to.” 

He hums, he’d love to add that he doesn’t want you to leave, but he keeps his mouth shut and waits for you to talk. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “For everything I did to you. Trying not to hurt myself I only hurt you and I didn’t want to.” 

He babbles something under his breath, shaking his head, he can’t even be mad at you for long and he hates it. 

“And I don’t want you to forgive me, but I think I owe you my honesty, and a bit more of me, you know…” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“No, I do, because you let me… you let me in. You talked about your family, about your struggles, how you moved here on your own and I said a few things and I even lied.” 

Haechan’s face cannot be read, probably a fragment of stupor crosses it or maybe disappointment, but then he scoffs. “Why am I not surprised?” 

“I didn’t — I didn’t think we would ever get here,” you confess. “You were supposed to be just sex, Haechan. To be honest, I didn’t even want you to be that. Johnny dragged me to that bar and here we are.” 

He gulps, moving his eyes up and down your figure, and then takes a deep breath. “We don’t have to be anything, I just wish you wouldn’t cut me off like this all the time because it hurts. I care about you and the idea of hurting you, even involuntarily, kills me. It’s pathetic, I know, but…” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “but it’s the truth.” 

Your heart jumps and you can’t believe his words. So is this how it feels when the person you love the most is about to give you up? “But I do.” 

“What?” 

“I — I…” you choke up on your words, fighting the tears back. “I want to — I don’t know why it is so hard.” No, you know why, because the last time the words ‘I love you’ slipped from your lips you were bent on a deathbed, beginning your other half to stay alive, to don’t leave you in the madness of the world at fifteen, promising him from then on you were going to listen, to stay in track and never break a rule, but it was all in vain. And now confessing that something as strong as love ties you to someone that wasn’t in your life since forever makes you shit yourself. 

“You don’t have to fake it if you don’t feel anything. I know I crossed a line, I know what our rules were and I’m aware I broke them so no, I won’t blame you if I lose you,” Haechan says, stopping probably to gather the courage to add the last words, “I know I already did.” 

“No, you didn’t,” you say. “Let me talk, please?” 

Haechan’s not sure, taking time to consider his options, but then nods, humming lowly. This might be the last time he has you like this, if he didn’t listen to you now, he would’ve regretted it forever, staying up at night thinking about what you had to say. 

“Remember when I told you about Johnny and my brother?” Haechan nods, even if he doesn’t get its correlation with you two. “I lied. They never fought; my brother died,” your voice falters as it comes out to give him such a big piece of you. You take a deep breath and then exhale, “It was all my fault.” 

“What?” He blurts out, eyes wide and mouth open. “I mean, I’m sorry, God, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that but… I…” 

You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s alright, I would’ve reacted the same way if you pretended your brother was alive and well.” 

“It didn’t happen recently, right?” He’s afraid all this time you left, it was because of that, maybe you were going through a loss and he wasn’t by your side.  

You shake your head, playing with your fingers. “I was fifteen, and he was only twenty.” 

He mentally takes a breath of relief knowing it was in the past, but he doesn’t feel any better, it’s clear it’s still hard for you to talk about it even if seven years went by. “But… unless you didn’t kill him, how can it be your fault?” 

“If only I didn’t call him, if only I listened to my parents and never… never dated him or went on that trip, my brother would be here today.” 

Haechan tries to talk but you stop him. “But that’s not why I talked to you about this, I mean, I still have to talk to you about this. I hope it can make you understand why… why I’m like this.” 

The man in front of you swallows, and you can read it in his eyes he’s not so sure anymore he wants to dive deep into you, but it’s the only way he can at least try to forgive you. 

“I know it sounds crazy but, when I was a child, I was reckless and only trusted my instincts. I loved living to the fullest, you know? I always tried new things and nothing really scared me. I was like this even with people, I always saw their good, but sometimes the good never even existed.” 

Haechan doesn’t talk, he only looks at you, listening attentively. And that makes you relax a bit, that was one of his thousand virtues, he always listened and emitted this sense of calm.  

“I was like this even as a teenager when I didn’t know men are shit since the day they are born.” 

“Fair,” he agrees. 

“I’m sorry, like, some of you are just terrible and when I was fourteen I fell for the worst one, but I couldn’t see it. I’ve never been a loser, not in a cliché way, but he seemed so cool in my eyes. He was pretty, popular, funny, for the broken humour of fourteen years old me, and he could do so much more than I could and I was in love, not really looking back at it now, and jealous.” 

“I guess he was older?” 

“He was, he turned seventeen when I turned fifteen and we weren’t together until then, but I was… a child at heart. I didn’t feel ready to try a lot of new things and he always pressured me into them. My parents didn’t like him, but I was headstrong and didn’t listen. Anyway, we dated for a while and everything was fine, until one day he asked me to go camping with his friends. I was so happy, it was my first night out with people I wasn’t super close with and we were under the sky, in my mind it was going to be the most romantic night of my life until it turned into a nightmare. My parents didn’t want me to go, so I had a fight with them and my brother took my defences, saying that I had to make my first experiences and if something happened I could always call home, so they gave up. But I was still mad at them and didn’t want to call them when things went wrong, proving they were right would’ve killed my pride, so I called my brother. I knew he would’ve never said anything to me.” 

“Did he… force you?” 

You shake your head. “No, but they were doing drugs and mixing it with alcohol and I was afraid, I only knew him and two other girls, but never was in touch with his friends and they were all starting to get too violent, and I didn’t like the jokes, the jokes about me. They started mocking me, for being too naïve, and pure and he didn’t say a word to defend me, he even laughed with them, straight to my face. And then the alcohol made him confess he hated how we still hadn’t fuck because I wasn’t ready, and after that, I snapped. I was terrified he was going to find a way to make it happen somehow that night and I didn’t want to be there. I had nobody to defend me and I couldn’t stay there. So I grabbed my things while fighting with him and ran away, in the middle of the wood, crying and heartbroken…” 

“So you called your brother?” 

You nod, wiping away the tears. “He came rushing, and he wanted to address them but I just wanted to go home, technically to Johnny’s place, I didn’t want to see my parents and we had this plan we would’ve kept it a secret from them.”

“So you were already friends with Johnny?” 

You nod. “We’ve always been, that’s why I tell you that I could never be attracted to him, he has always been like my second older brother, and now he’s the only one I have left.” 

“You don’t have to go on…” Haechan says, seeing how much you’re shaking and how weak your voice is. 

“No, I do, I need to. I trust you,” you confess, and the beam behind his eyes dims your tension. “We were driving to Johnny’s place, it was late at night and it also started raining. I know it would’ve happened even if he wasn’t mad because we were in the right, he was driving well, but if only I didn’t call him up he would’ve been at home and not in that damn crossroad.” You can’t go on and you lower your head while you try to gather your thoughts and stop your body from shaking. You feel Haechan’s hand reach yours and you hold it tight after the sofa hollows as he sits next to you. 

“The last thing I remember is his hand on my thigh while he caressed my hand to calm me down, and the static, deafening sound in my ear of the crush, the pain and his hand slipping away.” 

“So, you were there?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “He didn’t die on the spot, he suffered for like a week, he even woke up, barely had time to talk one last time to all of us and then his heart had a failure and they couldn’t save him.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, contemplating hugging you but it feels out of place, so he only keeps caressing your hand. “And you?” 

“Broken leg, broken arm, a minor brain trauma and something else but I’m still here, and he’s not. And why? Because I decided to follow my dumb heart.”

Haechan feels out of place but after what you heard he can’t keep quiet. “I… I think he loved you too much to blame you for something that wasn’t in your power.” 

“I know, I swear. I went to therapy, and I know it’s not my fault, I accepted his death and I know he would’ve thrown himself in the flames for me, but I can’t let go of this fear in my everyday life. Not having control drives me crazy and with you, I lost it so soon, it never happened before.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” Haechan confesses, he’s still holding your hand because it feels like the only thing he can do. But other than that? He can’t protect you from your fears and he doesn’t know how to give some control into your hands, it’s not in his power either. 

“I love you,” you confess, looking into his eyes and he freezes, the hold on your palm loosening. “And that’s the shitties confession ever, and I’m so sorry I just finished trauma dumping you, but I… I can’t keep losing good things in life because I’m afraid of taking risks. I can’t erase you, I’ve tried, but I can’t.” 

Haechan’s mouth is wide and he’s not sure if he went completely insane or if those words came out of your mouth for real. 

“I can’t move on from you. And I don’t need all the big answers I was searching for to give this a reason, I love you, it’s simple as that.” 

“I…” he tries to answer you, but he feels his heart racing and head spinning, you just said you love him, twice. 

You stand up and start walking back and forth. “I’ve never been so honest, but I can’t stop thinking of you, dreaming of you, even. And I can’t believe I love being with you so much. God, you were supposed to be just a one-night stand and here we are, you washed over me like a rouge wave and...” you chuckle, eyes glistening as happy tears wet them “... I can’t even care if it made me drown. I love you too much to care about what will happen, to worry about something that might not even happen. But even if it will, even if life will ever tear us away, I want to live in the present, I want to kiss you in front of our friends, I want to hold hands when you pick me up from work, I want to sing with you in the car as we drive to our favorite place, I want to wake up next to you and don’t have to sneak out like a thief. I want to leave my toothbrush at your place, next to yours, right where it belongs.”   

You can’t read his expression, your heart dares to say he’s happy, surely shocked and probably thrilled, but your brain is still the annoying douchebag that makes you feel he doesn’t want you back. 

“And I know I’m hard to be with but if you want me, if you feel like you can take me for who I am, I promise that I won’t disappear ever again and I will let you in.” 

Haechan chuckles and then raises his head to smile at you. “You are the wildest rollercoaster I’ve ever been on, you know?” You hum, smiling sadly. “But I can’t get off.” Your eyes light up at his words and your heart starts beating again as if it has been brought back to life. 

“So you don’t hate me?” 

He shakes his head, standing up to be face to face. “I don’t think I can.” 

Your smile lights up the room, and Haechan leans closer. “So, can I kiss you or are we breaking another rule?” 

You chuckle. “We are. I think this is the only one we never broke, we never kissed outside of sex.” 

“Oh, so this one has to be special…” he caresses your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, rubbing your skin with his thumb and then leans in, “…to us?” 

You smile, gulping before moving closer, leaving only a few millimetres between you. “To us.” When your lips meet it feels like a patch being put on your broken wings. It’s soft, and there’s still a lot of fear in your shaking hands and lips, but it feels like floating in the sky. You know it’s going to be hard for the both of you, he has his skeletons just like you have yours, but this feels right. This feels like the place where you have to be. In his arms, hanging from his lips. 

Haechan hits different. Haechan is like a high-speed train and a bullet to the heart. Haechan is like jumping in the void with no parachute on hoping wings will grow from your back to keep you floating. But it’s good and it makes you feel alive, a feeling you’re now sure you had forgotten a long time ago. 

And maybe, after all, you have to thank Johnny for this.

© neowinestaindress ; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. 

[selfishdoll]

❛ YOU SCARED OF ME?...❜

Watch you weigh your powers | Tempt with hours of pleasure  ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒  ♡ SEXTAPE

ཐིཋྀ  ⊹ 𓈒  SUMMARY.

you were nothing more than yuji’s english tutor.. one who was always a little distracted by his older brother, kamo choso.

ཐིཋྀ  ⊹ 𓈒  CONTENT WARNING.

yuji mention (not sexualized & you better not either), thigh slap, dom choso, ooc choso (ofc), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dumbification, pet names, praise, cervix fucking, etc. if i forgot something please let me know.

ཐིཋྀ  ⊹ 𓈒  NOTE. the way choso is slowly consuming my feed like i love this man. also as always, this fic is unedited so please excuses typos & grammar mistakes.

Glossed lips moved silently to the lyrics running through your airpods to your ears, face pushed against the palm of your hand— lazily scrolling through your instagram. Every so often your eyes would raise away from the screen, glancing out the windows to assure the uber you resided in was still on track. So far everything seemed fine, but you never knew nowadays.

Once satisfied with what you saw, you sunk back into the seat; pressing your lips together for a moment as you glanced at the time. 2:25. Perfect, you were right on schedule. You were about fice minutes away from your student’s house; Itadori Yuji. The poor boy was having such a hard time with English and being the nice upperclassman you were, you helped him.

Though, meeting his fine older brother; Kamo Choso was an added bonus. You two didn’t talk often as he usually came in the middle of your tutoring session, giving his brother a quick hello and you a wave. Other times Choso would offer food, you pleasantly surprised to see something for yourself as well. He was sweet, quiet— but sweet. Given the hopeless romantic you are, you were bound to fall for him.

And fall you did, unable to hold eye contact whenever he simply said hello, or asked how you’re doing. Looking away whenever he would smile or laugh at something his brother said, even sinking into yourself when he was around you; afraid you would melt from even the slightest of touches. You were whipped and you so desperately hoped he didn’t know.

The uber soon slowed infront of the Itadori-Kamo residence, glancing back at you with a friendly smile. You gave one back, “Thank you so much.” Collecting your tote bag and other belongings you opened the car door and exited soon after, closing it behind you. Your eyes trailed over the house noticing the black sleek car sitting the drive way, causing your heart to thump— Choso was home. You took a deep breath, glancing over your attire and secretly thankful you settled for something slightly presentable; a simple black spaghetti strap dress and black, wedge sandals. Though, it shouldn’t matter much— Choso stayed in his room unless he needed something from the kitchen or needed to tell Yuji something.

Walking up the path, you stepped onto the porch and approached the door. You knocked, hand falling to your side to wait patiently. Moments passed before the door opened, revealing Choso clad in his usual attire of sweats and a black shirt, the only thing missing being his adorable hair bones; tresses resting against his shoulders in a messy fashion.

Your cheeks went warm the moment the male smiled at you, “Hey (Y/N), Yuji didn’t tell me you two were studying today.” His tone was so smooth, pleasant to your ears; head tilted just a bit as he not-so secretly took in your appearance.

“Yeah, well— It was a spontaneous decision. He just wanted to get in a little extra studying before a quiz.”

Choso gave a soft chuckle, “Well.. he double booked. He’s at Megumi’s place right now with Nobara too..” He stepped to the side, opening the door wider and tilting his head to the side in a come in motion, “Come, Ill call him.”

You nodded, a nervous smile pulling your features. “Yeah okay.” Stepping through the threshold you made your way over to the living room, sitting on the couch with your knees pulled close. Choso was close behind you, waltzing over to the other side of the long end furniture to sit down, pressing the phone against his ear.

A comfortable silence entered the room for a moment, you perking up the moment Choso began to speak.

“Yuji, (Y/N) is here to tutor you. You shouldn’t keep her waiting.” He hummed, blinking slowly for a moment before shaking his head. “Alright. See you then.” Pulling the device away from his ear he cut the call, placing it off to the side and glancing at you. “He said sorry, he’ll be here in about forty minutes.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” You smiled, watching as he gave a simple nod back before his eyes turned to the television. Reaching for the remote, he pressed play, Texas Chainsaw Massacre starting up. You sunk into the cushion to get comfortable, deciding to distract yourself from the man you were pining for, literally cushions away from you. As pathetic as it sounded it was hard, eyes stealing glances to his form every so often; mapping his features.

From the way his eyebrows would raise at a particularly gruesome part, or his lip would quirk at something humorous. Of course you would notice such little things, it would be cute if you didn’t find yourself so creepy.

The man shifted in his seat, hips adjusting as his legs spread just a bit wider across the couch. Oh, if you had known any better he did that on purpose just to mess with you.

You finally tore your gaze away, leaning into the arm rest to pretend you just weren’t eye fucking him. Getting caught was the last thing you wanted to happen.

“The movie scaring you or somethin’?” Was what Choso suddenly said, causing you to jump. Your face turned, spotting the male already staring at you, amusement tainting his expression. You shook your head far too quickly. “No. It’s not scaring me.”

His eyebrows rose a bit, turning back to the movie as his arm stretched out upon the back of the couch. “Must be me you’re scared of then.”

A mixture of a surprised scoff and chuckle escaped you, turning a little to face him. “Scared of you?” The questioned rolled of your tongue in a flabbergasted manner, watching the man give a shrug. You smiled with a small shake of your head, “You’re far too nice to be scared of.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” A certain tone hugged his words, the playful atmosphere dissipating instantly. “Its why you can never look me in the eye when we speak.. why you undress me with your eyes when you think I don’t notice.” Your dirty secrets spilled from his lips as if reading from a book. Your eyes widened, watching as he so casually turned back to the movie.

“You.. knew?”

“Mhm.” Again, so nonchalant, so casual. Oblivious to the inner turmoil inside of you. You nervously thumbed the case of your phone, heart threatening to escape your chest as you softly croaked; “Ar.. are you gonna do something about it?”

“You want me to?”

“Yes.” You answered quickly, finally stealing his gaze away from the movie. He was crossing the cushions in minutes, fingers finding your cheeks to pull you into a kiss. Your lips devoured each other, heat resting between the two of you. Fingers trailed down, clasping around your throat as he deepened the kiss. “Slow down, princess; my lips aren’t going anywhere.” Choso murmured against your own, pushing you into the couch. His tongue pushed through your lips easily, curling around your own pink muscle to slowly suck and play with. The man’s free hand carried to your side, thumb pressing against your plump, covered skin; tracing it every so often.

Moments passed before you two pulled apart, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lips as breaths fanned across each other’s faces. Choso pushed forward, lifting you for a moment before resting you in his lap, leaning you against the arm rest. His hands carried across your form, fingers hooking onto the straps of your dress and tugging it down your body, allowing the top to rest at your waist. To his surprise — and enjoyment — you were braless, his eyes feasting away on the sight of your naked breasts; pretty brown mounds with freckles decorating the skin. Choso reached over, grasping both in his large hands, enjoying the way the warmth covered his palms.

One squeeze and you were breathing softly, eyes closing as he leaned into your neck, pressing kisses against your skin. His thumbs rolled across your areola and slowly hardening nipple, pressing them in and simply toying with them. The light pleasure had your hips moving in his lap, hands rising to curl your pretty pink acrylics into his hair, tugging the moment you felt him bite your collarbone.

The love bites didn’t stop there, leading them to the valley between your breast and then over to your right one, tongue tracing your skin; collecting your hard nipple into his mouth. His hips pressed close against your own, tongue circling the bud— continuing to rub the other. Pleasure traveled between your legs, lips parted as soft breaths escaped you. You gasped the moment he gently bit down, fingers tightening in his hair.

“Choso, please..” You called out to him, enjoying the treatment but needing more. You’ve waited far too long for this and were far too needy to go slow. Except, Choso didn’t give a damn about that. Despite the looming threat of his younger brother walking in at anytime, he intended to take his time with you. Torturing you for the torture you put him through daily.

Dressing in those pretty tops that cupped your breasts so nicely, those dresses that hugged your ass and rolls perfectly, let alone how you acted around him; so sweet and shy, yet your eyes would wander. No.. he was going to explore each part of you, no matter how long it took.

So the moment he shook his head you were whining; attempting to grind in his lap only to gasp the moment his palm struck the inside of your thigh. His hand smoothed to ease the pain, other hand moving back to your neck and gently holding it. “You’ll be good and wait.. I’m not rushing with you.”

The moment you pouted his thumb was rising to push against your lips, leaning just a bit closer. “Or I could just walk away now— leaving you all needy and desperate for me. Would you like that instead?” The man could nearly grin at how fast you shook your head, tracing your lips for a moment before moving the digit away to plant a soft kiss against them. “Thought so. Just sit and wait princess, you’ll get what you want.”

With that his hands were tugging your dress down fully, leaving you in black panties and nothing more. Taking in your form, his hands focused on removing his shirt and tossing it beside your clothes. Choso’s hands found your waist, backing away a bit to pull you to lay on the cushions, spreading your legs so one hung over the edge of the couch and one rested on top of it.

You hissed softly as his thumb pushed against your covered slit, rubbing little circles across your bud. Your nails scratched the couch a little, a damp spot collecting on your panties, his pace quickening for a moment before moving his hand to instead pull your panties to the side; revealing your wet sex to him. Choso licked his lips slowly, reaching over with his other hand to rub your uncovered bud with his thumb, watching your legs widen as the pleasure grew.

This continued until two fingers teased your entrance, coating them in your essence before slowly pushing in. The man hissed softly as your walls clenched around his thick digits, continuing to push until he was knuckle deep. Once inside he wasted no time in scissoring and stretching you out, slow deep thrusts carrying in and out of you.

The pleasure formed in the pit of your stomach, leaning your head back as moans escaped you. It was only his fingers yet they felt so good, deeper than your own. Pushing against your gummy walls, brushing against a spot that caused stars to dance in your eyes. He pressed harder on your clit, your back arching as a swear escaped you. “Choso.. oh fuck—“

“Oh, look at that..” Choso drawled softly, soft squelches entering the room with each push inside and out. “Dripping all over my fingers, making such a mess pretty girl.” He smiled at the whine that escaped you, leaning to kiss against the inside of your thigh, biting the warm skin gently just to feel you twitch.

Your hand lowered, clamping around his wrist, feeling his muscles with each thrust of his fingers. Your lips was caught between your teeth, hips moving as your arousal grew; a band forming in your stomach.

Noticing this, his pace quickened, leaning down to stamp kisses against your skin. “Go on princess, fuck your self on my fingers; make me a mess.” He cooed right into your ear, eating up each moan and gasp that escaped your bruised lips. Pushing and pushing your walls clenched around his digits, coming within seconds.

Praise escaped him, fingers fucking you through your high for a moment before slowing down— soon pulling them out of you. He rose his hand to his face, lapping up your juices all while his eyes trailed over your form. Just from his fingers you were panting heavily, eyes glossy and looking at him as if he painted the moon and stars themselves. That look plus your taste was driving him crazy, having half a brain to dive between your legs in search of more.

Instead his hands fell to his sweats, pushing the baggy fabric down along with his boxers; revealing his hard length. The man pushed close, your eyes gazing down, clenching at the fact he reached your belly button. You breathed when you felt his fingers collect your release, spreading it across his cock to lubricate just a bit.

Once satisfied he was grabbing the base, lining up with your entrance and slowly, pushing in. You whimpered softly, feeling the man lean closer, planting a kiss under your eye. “Relax for me (Y/N)..” Choso breathed softly, hand trailing to your knee to lift onto his shoulder, continuing to push in. You relaxed as best as you could, breathing slowly and glancing up at the man who smiled at you. “That’s it.. good girl. I’m almost there.”

You nodded slowly, eyes pinched closed as his hips continued to push forward, stilling the moment he was fully inside. You felt full, his cock pulsating inside you, waiting patiently for you to adjust. You remained still for a few minutes, smiling at the way Choso continued to kiss any spot he could reach. Soon enough you were fine, hips raising to signal the man above you.

He understood quickly, pulling his hips back so only the tip rested in inside; pushing back in slowly. Choso carefully watched as he delivered more experimental thrusts, searching for any discomfort or unhappiness. When neither presented itself all restraints were lost, thrusts increasing in speed and intensity.

Soon enough his weight was placed behind each, fucking you into the cushions all while mumbling praises right into your ear. From how pretty you split around him to how good you felt— each word melting your brain into mush.

Gasps and moans of his name escaped, nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure intensified. You couldn’t think of anything but him, couldn’t feel anything but his cock driving in and out of you; stirring you up, ruining you.

Choso’s hand found your cheeks, tapping his fingers against your cheek as if to pull you back from ecstasy. The man hissed the moment your pretty glossy eyes focused onto his face, “Yeah, focus here sweetheart.. right here. You feel me, how deep am I?” A rhetorical question, he knew enough you were too fucked out to answer such a thing. Too lost to even realize he was far deeper then he should be. So instead of a coherent answer all Choso got was a high pitched cry of his name;

“Choso..! Mmh—!”

“I know my name sweetheart, I asked how deep I was.” The grin he gave was cocky, removing his hand from your face to instead snatch your own from his shoulder; pressing your palm on your stomach. With each ram inside your messy cunt you felt it against your hand, the man pressing even harder just to hear you scream. Your walls clenched around him, sucking him in with each drag of his cock before you shook; creaming all over his length.

Choso breathed at the feeling, looking at where you were connected to spot your mess dripping down his dick, and onto the couch. He would worry about the ruined furniture later; you were top priority at the moment.

His eyes snapped back to your face the moment you began to pant, coming closer all while his hips continued to move. “So fucking pretty (Y/N).. think you can do that again?” Before you could reply Choso was grabbing your arm whilst pulling out of you, turning you on the couch. You braced yourself, hands gripping the armrest as you glanced behind you, spotting the man lining back up with your entrance.

“Choso—!” Your eyes rolled back the moment he thrusted back in, merciless as he fucked you. There was no holding back, rocking your body back and forth between him and the armrest with each thrust. Your nails dug into the furniture, pleasured screams escaping you. His hands were tight on your hips, leaving you with no way to escape.

Legs shaking, sweat settled onto your skin, tired walls clenching around his relentless cock; you were a complete mess. But given how good Choso was fucking you right now— you couldn’t care less.

“Look at that.. fuck—“ Choso gasped out, eyes glued to the way your body shook with each thrust, how your walls clenched around him. His fingers dug into your plump skin, sure to leave marks, reminders of your love making. The man leaned over your withering body, chest flush against your back as he pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear all while his arms wrapped tight around your waist. No more words were needed or rather could be spoke as he drilled into you, your combined breathing covering the room, chasing your releases.

You clenched the armrest so much it began to hurt, eyebrows furrowed closed, nearly drawing blood from how hard you were biting your lip. You were so close, so fucking close it began to hurt; the dam breaking the moment he reached down, circling to fingers against your clit. Your back arched, clamping hard as you came harshly, throat raw and voice abused.

Choso was close behind, pushing in deep and stuffing you full, painting your walls white. Your tired body slumped against the couch, legs shaking, attempting to catch your breath. You whimpered as Choso pulled out, feeling him lift and turn your body to rest against his front; smoothing his fingers across your thigh.

The room was silent, simply basking in his warmth and affection, hand trailing to your ass to gently massage. The gentleness was soon interrupted though when Choso’s phone rang, the man reaching over and picking it up.

Your heart sank seeing the contact name, sitting up to glance at the man with worried eyes. Choso’s hand rose to your cheek, accepting the call. “Hey Yuji, you okay?”

“I’ve been trying to call you to tell you I wanted to reschedule with (Y/N), Nobara and I are gonna stay at Megumi’s! Were you busy or something?”

Choso glanced at you for a moment before looking away with a lopsided smirk. “Or something.. Anyways, I’ll tell (Y/N)— try to be better with your schedule next time.”

Yuji gave a small understood before cutting the call, allowing you to smack Choso’s chest with an irritated expression. The man soothed the area, glancing down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What if he had walked in?!” You hissed softly, Choso smirking a little, hands resting on your hips.

“You didn’t seem too concerned about it when you were under me.”

[sidekick-hero]

I'm a fool (for you)

Written for the Stranger Things Writers Guild daily drabble, prompt was 'meet ugly'. I don't know what happened here. warnings: implied cheating (not steddie) | tags: meet ugly, hurt Eddie, emotional hurt/comfort, love at first sight with the worst timing, hopeful ending | 1.2k | AO3

April is Eddie's favorite month.

Winter is finally over and spring is breathing life back into the world. With the colors of spring, happiness seeped back into people's hearts.

As Eddie walks home from work, whistling his favorite tune, his heart swells with it. The sun still shines brightly, a gentle breeze carries the scent of cherry blossoms from the nearby park, and tucked in his pocket is his very first bonus check. He can't wait to tell David, the exhilaration of a beautiful day gives him hope that maybe they can have a nice evening with some wine and dinner before falling into bed together. It's been a while, and he knows it's partly because he works so much, but lately he feels like he and David are drifting apart.

Determined to surprise David with some quality time together, Eddie plans to come home early. Perhaps they could even use the extra money for a vacation, he thinks with a smile on his face.

Filled with hope and happiness, Eddie opens the door to their apartment, only to be greeted by a sight that shatters both.

A stranger, clad in nothing but black boxer briefs, stands in their bedroom doorway.

"I'm such a fool," Eddie murmurs, blinking at the unexpected sight of an almost-naked Adonis standing in the doorway to the room he shares with the man Eddie thought loved him.

The stranger mirrors his shock. "You're not David.”

A mirthless laugh escapes Eddie's lips. "No, I'm Eddie. His boyfriend. Or rather, ex-boyfriend. Guess he forgot to mention me, huh?"

When the man just buries his face in his hands and groans, "I'm such a fucking fool," Eddie almost feels sorry for him.

Almost, because it's his heart that's just been broken.

"Looks like we both are," he agrees with the stranger. He really is beautiful. Eddie can see why David went for him, he just wishes he hadn't.

"I swear, I had no idea David had a boyfriend or I never would have gone home with him. I'm so, so sorry."

The guy looks sincere and Eddie believes him. After all, it was David who decided to trample on their relationship. It must suck to be drawn into the drama of Eddie's imploding relationship, less cause and more casualty.

Closing the door behind him, Eddie steps fully into the apartment. "I believe you -" he pauses here, waiting for the man to tell him his name.

"Steve."

"I believe you, Steve. Where's David, by the way?"

"Buying condoms," he admits sheepishly, and Eddie rubs his hands over his face.

"Of course. How awfully considerate of him." Steve winces at Eddie's tone, but he's too tired to care. He takes a moment to think about what to do next. "I think it's best if you get dressed and leave now, I doubt you'll want to be here when David gets back. To be honest, I don't want to either, but I guess there's not much of a choice."

Steve looks at him silently for a second before turning and going back into the bedroom, presumably to get dressed. Eddie sighs and heads over to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. He's going to need it.

He's thinking about where he could stay tonight when Steve comes into the kitchen, now dressed in tight, light-washed Levi's and a white shirt that looks painted on. Eddie can even see the dark chest hair through it.

It's hard not to hate Steve for making Eddie feel even more inadequate.

"I know you want me to go, but if it's okay with you, I'd rather stay? Just to make sure you're okay. I've been cheated on before and I know what it's like to feel like the rug has been pulled out from under you. You shouldn't have to deal with it alone."

It's hard to hate Steve when he's so kind to Eddie.

"Do I look so pathetic that I need the man my boyfriend cheated on me with to comfort me?" He spits, more out of self-preservation than anything else. Anger is so much easier to deal with than heartbreak.

Steve's response, however, is gentle. "You look like someone just broke your heart and you could use a friend. It doesn't have to be me, I can take you to one of your friends. I just don't think you should be alone right now." With that, Steve walks over to the coffee machine and pours out a cup. "Sugar? Cream?"

Eddie plops down on one of the kitchen chairs in defeat. "Both. More sugar."

Steve prepares their coffee and then they wait for David to get back. When he does, clearly shocked to find his boyfriend and his hookup in the same room, they both confront him. Steve has Eddie's back the whole time and gets downright mean to David, while Eddie is mostly tired and disappointed. After their confrontation, Steve waits for Eddie to pack some of his things and, as promised, drives Eddie over to Chrissy's apartment.

They park in front of her building and Eddie thanks Steve for everything he's done for him, but before he can get out, Steve takes Eddie's hand and squeezes it.

"I'm really sorry, Eddie. Nobody deserves to get cheated on and I hate that it happened to you. I can understand if you want to be mad at me or forget I even exist, but if you ever need to talk, even if it's just about how small David's dick is, I'm here, okay?"

In the palm of his hand, Eddie feels a piece of paper, and he's pretty sure it's Steve's number.

"Why?"

Steve reaches over and tucks a lock of Eddie's hair behind his ear. "You'll probably think I'm weird, but I feel like I almost know you. It sounds crazy, I know, I know. I can’t explain it. I just want you to be happy, and I can't help but want to be the person who makes that happen."

At Eddie's stunned silence, he hastily adds, "Oh God, I sound like a crazy person. Or worse, a psycho stalker. I promise, I'm neither. And that's exactly what a psycho stalker would say, for Christ's sake. Please say something before I put my foot any further in my mouth."

This makes Eddie laugh again, and this time it doesn't sound bitter. Just a little confused, but mostly fond.

"Thank you, Steve. Really. I appreciate it. You... I have no idea what I'm feeling right now, or what I'm going to do, but you've made this totally fucked up evening suck less, and for that alone I don't want to forget that you exist or be mad at you. I just need some time, y'know?"

Steve's smile is warm, if a little sad. "I do. You should. Take your time, I mean. I really wish we'd met differently."

"Me too. Believe me."

Eddie starts to get out of the car again, and this time Steve doesn't stop him. Just watches him, his hazel eyes shining brightly in the light of the street lamp.

"Take care, Eddie."

"You too, Steve."

As Eddie climbs the stairs to Chrissy's apartment, he saves Steve's number in his phone.

[livewithyura]

Hai, Darling 😘

Since your request is open ✨

May i've a request for Jin Kazama,Lee Chaolan,Lars Alexanderson, with sexy fem reader Who has a sassy attitude, likes to tease, fem is so elegant,cheerfull and has long wavy cherry pink hair.

Sorry, if the characters I requested are too many for you. I don't see the number of character slots for your request. I'm sorry 🙏🥺

( Lee! , Lars! , Jin! ) | Tekken x Fem readers "We 'love' without reason"

❒ ⁀➷ Answer : Hi! Yes your idea is literally refreshing and don't worry about the characters! I will write as much as I can , Thank you for requesting! Hope you enjoy this little scribble .

❒⁀➷ Context : They don't know how they end up with you , a sassy and elegant woman . But they know having you by their side it's worth it . I also just watched 'anyone but you'! This scribble also took a lot of inspiration from that rom-com movie .

❒ ⁀➷ Request and collab is still open! ( pls do check my rules and requirements before request ) | ( slow update for now! )

Lars Alexanderson

You are a publicist, previously hired by Lee to ensure that Yggdrassil is always portrayed positively in the public eye.

Lars's the leader of the rebel army, so essentially, he's your client . You consistently offer your opinion, challenging Lars's ideas and proposing better alternatives .

He once 'awkwardly' asked you to join the rebel army but you decline . "I don't want to ruin my pink nails," you joked , that make Lars chuckle

You two grow closer as Lars's gentlemanly demeanor melts your heart, and he adores your personality. Together, you decide to take your relationship to the next level. After the defeat of G-corporation, Lars proposes to you with a bouquet of pink roses. "This flower . It remind me of you , (Y/N) . Please give me a chance to make you the happiest woman alive"

Lars decides to keep your relationship secret to the public eye, given his leadership in the rebel army and his desire to protect you. Even Lee, Alisa, or Jin are unaware of the intimacy between you two.

You're his employee in front of his work mate . He act serious and professional when he want to talk to you . But when you guy have a private moment , he take care of you like a princess . "You're my publicist in their eyes , but in private you're my princess" He said kneel down while adjusting your red heels .

LARS AND (Y/N) literally have SECRET MEETINGS , THE EYE CONTACT IN PUBLIC , SHARING HIDDEN KISSES and SUBTLY BRUSHING EACH OTHER'S HAND ( Lee was suspicious at first because Lars bought a Pink Perfume , Pink dresses and Pink roses . But Lars gave him a good excuses . )

Bonus ! ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Sweet Scenarios! ( Lars's version )

Lars leads the rebel army so his schedule is packed. He often arrives home late at night to find you on the sofa, wearing a strawberry face mask. His heart warms knowing you waited up for him.

He softly runs his fingers through your hair, whispering sweet things about you shyly. "You don't need to wait up for me. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, my love," he says, nuzzling the side of your hair and planting a gentle kiss. "Your scent is always captivating," he whispers again. Just inhaling your sweet aroma instantly melts away his stress.

You wake up with a gasp. "Lars! You scared me, and you almost ruined my beautiful night routine" you say, readjusting your face mask that nearly slipped off. "Oh my love, I can make your night routine more...entertaining," he says, a smirk playing on his lips. You playfully slap him with your satin pillow. "Uh-huh, whatever. Where's my sushi?"

He freezes, realizing he forgot to buy you sushi, the late-night snack he promised. "Love, I... we have instant ramen at home," he stutters, gently holding your shoulders. You squint at him. "I'm on a diet" you remind him.

"It's okay! I know your rebel army is waaaaayy more important , I understand!" With a sarcastic tone , you walked away from the living room.

Unable to bear the thought of seeing your distressed eyes, he rushes to Lee's house at 2 AM just to prepare sushi for you. Luckily, Lee's place is stocked with luxurious ingredients, "Lars? What's this for?" "Sorry Lee , It's for my own satisfaction"

And by 3 AM, he manages to whip up the sushi. Returning to your shared apartment, he presents you with the sushi, apologizing, "Sorry, my love. I'll make sure this doesn't happen again." He gently takes your hand, kissing your knuckles tenderly.

"I love you , captain" you said , try to tease him and all the blood in his body rush through his cheek . "Ah? Are you blushing? Did I get the total-badass-side-character , justice-muscle-man blush?" You try to tease him for a second time .

"Ah, well... How could anyone not blush when they receive compliments from such a majestic woman like you?" He scratch his head , not looking at your eyes .

"I just want you to know that you're one of my top priority [Y/N] , You're waaaaaayy more important than my life" Lars wrapped his arm around your waist while giving you a kiss on the back of your neck .

Lee Chaolan

You're a professor at the Violet System. You're aware of his playboy reputation and his frequent outings with different girls. Sometimes, you're unsure which one is his girlfriend. Of course, one day, you catch the CEO's attention with your elegant presence.

He attempts to catch your attention, but you consistently ignore him to assert your identity. You refuse to succumb to his charm, aware that he might eventually lose interest and pursue another girl. Ironically, this only fuels Lee's desire for you. "I bought this necklace for you. I think it will look perfect on you!" he offers. "Oh? Who told you to buy that?" you tease, giving him a knowing smirk. "Um , this is not 'excellent'' He mumble , because you feel bad you just accept the expensive necklace .

"You can't leave this lab without letting me take you home tonight. sweet little thing," he insists while winking at you , okay he's little bit annoying but he knows your taste . He pick a beautiful present for a woman "Yea sure" You said "YES! EXCELLENT! Let's go!"

After a few dates, you find yourself drawn to his personality. You share many things together. Whether it's skincare, makeup, or fashion, he's always there to advise you. He knows the perfect skincare routine, the ideal makeup shades for you, and he surrounds you with new outfits that suit your style. One morning, you wake up to find yourself snuggled up with him on his million-dollar couch. It dawns on you that you've already fallen for him.

Lee surprises you by publicly announcing your relationship, declaring, "Everybody! This pretty woman over here is the love of my life!" This bold move catches you off guard, as he has never been so open about his relationship before. He also make a big deal about you , he make it completely obvious you're the one he want in his entire life . [ He also like to FLEX you in front of lars , telling lars that you're the one who design the latest armor suit ]

While you're together, you both have manicures, go to the salon, and even have shopping sprees. "We're so slay, Lee," you remark, admiring your matching vintage outfits with him. "Excellent!" Then, he takes a picture of the two of you. [ MIRROR SELFIEEE ]

After the G-Corp defeated , HE SPOILS YOU TOO MUCH . GIVE YOU A LITTLE KISS IN FRONT OF EVERYONE . ALWAYS HUGGING YOUR WAIST/HOLDING YOUR HANDS . WHISPER YOU A SWEET THINGS , TELL YOU THAT YOU'RE ALWAYS LINGERS ON YOUR MIND . HE PLAYS WITH YOUR HAIR . RANDOM WALKS WHEN YOU GUYS HAVE A FREE TIME . "Excellent [Y/N]" "Hm what? My make up? Hair? dres--" "Just you darling , Your existence" "AWEE LEE--" you smack his arm with your purse .

Bonus ! ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Sweet Scenarios! [ Lee's version ]

Lee decides to take you on a trip after his schedule is packed with war-related matters. You're relieved that he survived the war despite sustaining a slight injury. The night before your trip to Manhattan, you're patching up his injury while he looks at you with softened eyes. "I'm sorry for giving you a hard time when I was away, sweet [y/n]," he says.

"Phew! At least the world is saved," You said , Lee caressing his girlfriend's cheek. "Don't kiss me, I have a lip scrub on," she jokes. "Hm~ I know!" he replies, stopping. "Do you want to buy something before our trip, baby?" She hums, thinking about her ideas. "Let's go to the convenience store!"

Lee and you made a way to the small convenience store that was open 24/7. It was your tradition with your boyfriend, a secret adventure that you guys shared . Lee's always unserious and you adore his personality , You guys always seeking out the most ridiculous items that you guys could find.

Lee giggled as she spotted a display of neon-colored sunglasses. "Babe!, look at these! We could start a new trend!" Lee's arms wrapped around her waist from behind, surprising her. You gasped and turned, only to burst into laughter at the sight of him wearing the neon-colored sunglasses.

As you guys roamed the aisles, you guys picked up items at random, creating a pile of the most absurd things ; a rubber chicken, a glow-in-the-dark frisbee, a tiny umbrella with a pineapple pattern, and a pack of glow sticks.

You help up up box of instant noodles . "Do we need this?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. Lee covered your left cheek with a quick kiss "Well babe, you never know when a late-night noodle craving might strike!" He whispers .

"Lee , why are you buying that?" "What do you mean babe! It's good" "Both of us don't know how to cook dumbass and we're just going to eat at the restaurant---" He shuts you with a quick-kiss again and he run away with the trolley . "Lee!"

"They made their way to the checkout counter, their arms full of their strange purchases. The cashier, a sleepy-looking teenager, raised an eyebrow at their selection but didn't comment. As they walked out of the store, Lee slipped his hand into [Y/N]'s, their fingers intertwining. "I love our late-night adventures," she said softly.

"I'm glad you enjoy it , sweet [Y/N]," He replied, squeezing your hand.

Jin Kazama

You were one of Jin's juniors in high school. Whenever you passed each other, he felt an uncanny connection to you. Unbeknownst to him, your family was associated with a traditional exorcist in Japan. Jin had always had a 'slight' crush on you, but he never admitted it. He didn't want to dampen your spirit, so before leaving school to pursue martial arts, he gave you an anonymous love letter expressing his feelings towards you .

A few years have passed, and G-corp has been defeated. You continue your life as an entrepreneur. One day, you enter a coffee shop and order a double shot espresso, trying to resume your daily routine after the war. "Sorry, we only accept cash this morning," the cashier says, rolling her eyes at you. Surprised, you look back at the long queue behind you, waiting for you to pay. You don't notice Jin's presence, as it's been a long time since high school.

"Sorry I left my other cash in the car can you---" "ONE HOT CAPPUCINO FOR MR ISAYAMA" All the worker ignores you . "Honey,I told you already about this . We're not going to separate our bills anymore" Jin stepping in and pay the coffee for you . You looked at him , tilting your head trying to remember his face .

"I don't know you're such a good actor , Kazama" you give him a little tease , leaving the busy coffee shop together with Jin . Jin just stood silently while chugging his peppermint tea . "Thank you , that was nice by the way!" you smiles at him , "My pleasure" he replied shortly.

As you're about to leave, Jin stops you. "Well, this is my number. Can't leave my 'girlfriend' just like that," he says with a smirk. You're surprised, looking at him incredulously. "Oh, I didn't know this big, bulky, emo man had feelings? We'll keep in touch, big man," you reply, tapping his shoulder playfully.

From that , you guys keep in touch with each other . Then Jin confessed to you , he stand in front of your apartment with a big stuffed animal , he carries it until he reach your apartment . "Can I win your heart, [Y/N]? I hope it's as easy as winning this big bear at the amusement park. Just give me a chance," Jin says earnestly , How could you say no to that?

After that, you always teased him about his romantic gestures. He couldn't say anything but blush. "You're such a sweet and caring person, Kazama. If you had told me this before you left that school, we would have gotten together faster," you said teasingly. "Yeah… whatever," he replied, turning around to continue preparing your breakfast.

Even though Jin doesn't speak openly about his feelings for you, you can feel them through his actions. Jin embodies the idea of 'Everyone thinks LOVE is for show, but I'll DIE you in secret' . He's obsessed with physical closeness , PUTTING YOU ON TOP HIS CHEST HEARING HIS HEARTBEAT . HUGGING ALL THE TIME . You will sit on the couch and HE WILL STROKING YOUR HAIR AND KISS YOU EVERYWHERE . HE WILL BUY YOU YOUR FAVORITE FOOD/DRINKS . LEARNING EVERY SINGLE DETAILS ABOUT YOU .

He learns the art of makeup just for you, trying to buy you three different lipsticks and blushers, even though they might not be in your shade but this time it would suit you and your pink hair. He's a bit embarrassed confronting the cashier in the makeup store. "Ah, I never expected a guy with whole six-pack to come here. Is this for your girlfriend?" she asks, but Jin doesn't reply and leaves the store with all the makeup for you.

Bonus ! ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Sweet Scenarios! [ Jin's version! ]

Jin decided have a hiking trip at his hometown with you , he want to have a graceful moment with his girlfriend . He walked ahead, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pointed out various plants and animals along the way, his love for nature evident in every step.

You, on the other hand, trailed behind, your expression a mix of awe and annoyance. You swatted at a pesky mosquito and wrinkled your nose at the sight of a muddy puddle. "Remind me again why we're doing this?" you grumbled, trying to avoid stepping in a particularly muddy patch.

Jin grabbed your waist "Don't worry princess , it would be fine . I'm here with you" He whisper to your ear , you just squinted your eyes while looking at his face . "Jin , answer my question" You said , Jin tucked your hair gently as he looked at you with a smile . "Because nature has a way of rejuvenating the soul," he replied, his voice filled with reverence. "It's important to connect with the earth and appreciate its beauty. And I want to experience it with you . The love of my life"

"I could appreciate it just fine from the comfort of a spa," you said. Jin chuckled softly. "You always make that face when you're tired," he said, pinching your cheek. You followed him silently, a red mark on your face. Like always, he remembered every single detail about you.

"Don't worry, we'll have your first favorite cereal, the one you used to eat when you were 5," he assures you." Hm? I wonder what flavor is that?" You teased , he smirks , Knowing the answer "Cinnamon Toast Crunch" . You lose it , this man always melt you away with demeanor .

As you guys reached a picturesque overlook, Jin taking in the breathtaking view of the valley below. "Isn't it magnificent?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with awe while holding your hand .

You couldn't help but be moved by the beauty of the scene before her.."It is," you admitted quietly, a hint of wonder in her voice.

You sat down on a nearby rock, the silence of the morning enveloping you and Jin. "Thank you , for showing me the beauty of nature and bugs..." You said ,

Jin widened his eyes after he noticed a little bump on your arm . "Princess, are you okay? Does it hurt? Is it bothering you? Do you want to go down right now?" "Jin asks, his concern evident though he doesn't express it too obviously. "It's fine, We can have a moment before we go down to meet your mom" You said , Jin just nods agree with you .

"[Y/N]" "Yes?" . Jin coughs , try to clear his voice . "You know what else is beautiful?" "What?" "You" . And after those words, you tease him all day.

˚˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ All right reserved , written by livewithyura , why you want to copy this crap? You can reblog!

[oharaslove]

Miguel O'hara as a cat

summary: After the events of your boyfriend becoming a cat, you decided to get a normal cat. Would the two kitties get along?

word count: 5.2k

warnings: Miguel x !Spider fem Reader, fluff, nothing else???

I am so so sorry for the wait!! I had many ideas and I couldn't find the words or the way to connect them. Also there was a lot going on and I couldn't find time to properly sit and write. Anyway, hope you enjoy!!! This is the last part, then I'll post the bonuses next week!!!

<< Part 2 Bonus >>

PART 3

It’s been 2 weeks since the whole cat accident. Thankfully, no one heard about it, only Miguel, Lyla and you knew about it. Even though you had gotten angry at the AI for taking pictures, you have to admit that she kept her word and the photos were kept hidden. Besides, it was funny seeing Miguel as a Maine Coon, although he didn’t think so, and he still thought he wasn’t a cat. The audacity of that man.

For the other part, Miguel hasn’t stopped working, it seemed like he was trying to make up for lost time, even though it was at most two days he was out of duty, but that’s your boyfriend, a workaholic at his best.

With all the work Miguel had been doing, he totally forgot about you wanting to adopt a cat. In all honestly, you had forgotten too. The last two weeks had been swarmed with anomalies here and there, no time to stop and think or rest completely. Your mind always racing and alert, battling between your own villains at home and the ones that didn’t belong across the multiverse.

“Miguel, there’s an anomaly on Earth-98393A.” Lyla informed, appearing in front of her boss.

Miguel groaned, running his hand through his messy hair. With the amount of anomalies, he wasn’t running out of teams to send.

“Is there someone available?” he asked.

“Let me check” Lyla answered, pulling out her holographic tablet, and scrolling through it. “It seems like everyone is deployed, in the infirmary recovering or its their day off.”

Miguel massage the sides of his head, before pulling lightly on his hair.

“Call y/n” Miguel said. “We are going together.”

“On it!” the AI responded.

The gizmo rang a couple a seconds until you appeared in front of Miguel. It seemed like you were in the middle of something.

“Hi Miggy!!” you sang, a little out of breath.

“Hola amor. ¿Estás bien?” (Hi love. Are you okay?)

“I’m in-,” your face went out of frame, sounds of a fight taking over. “-the middle-,” an explosion was heard, and then some grunting and punching. “-of something.” you finished, sighing, and then beaming into the camera. “What’s up?”

“Am I interrupting something?” Miguel asked, a smirk forming on his lips.

“What do you think?” you questioned back, rolling your eyes, before smiling at him.

“There is an anomaly we have to take care of.”

“Okay, gimme a minute.” you groaned. “I have to-”

A giant object flew over your head, luckily, your spidey-senses warned you about it.

“Hey!” you snapped. “Rhino, I am busy over here. Can’t you wait for a single minute?” you rolled your eyes, and looked at Miguel. “Be there in a minute. Love ya. Mwah” you blew a kiss before hanging up.

“Lyla, status on the anomaly?” Miguel asked.

“It is causing a lot of trouble.” the AI answered. “I suggest you go now. Once your little girlfriend comes around, I’ll inform her.”

“Okay, let me know when she arrives.”

Miguel opened a portal to Earth-98393A using his gizmo. As soon as it opened he went through.

“Another day of work” he sighed, stretching his arms.

The fight was not going good.

Maybe he should have asked Lyla what he was facing.

Maybe Miguel should have listened to you when you said the sleep deprivation was going to bite him in the ass.

Maybe he should have not listened to Lyla and wait for you to arrive.

Maybe you should fucking hurry and help him. What was taking you so long??

THREE FRICKING ANOMALIES. That was what he was fighting.

Yes. Miguel was a big guy, he was a really strong Spider-man, but everyone has limits, and he has reached them minutes ago.

A vulture, a Rhino and a kind of symbiote had him cornered. Miguel took punch after punch, kick after kick, blow after blow.

After a kick to the gut, he fell to his knees, clutching his stomach.

“Lyla” he groaned. “Where is y/n?”

He managed to roll over to the right, just as the Rhino rammed into the wall behind of where he just was.

“I called her again, telling her it was an emergency” Lyla answered.

He stood up, groaning, still clutching his middle. There was internal bleeding and external bleeding, everything was aching, he didn’t know how many more punches he could take.

He was feeling dizzy, his senses not there 100%.

Thanks to that, the vulture managed to surprise him. He flew right into him, grabbing his middle and smacking him into the wall.

Miguel’s body was pressed against the wall and the Vulture. Nowhere to go.

His mind was slipping in and out of consciousness. The pressure on his chest preventing him from breathing properly.

The vulture grabbed his head and smashed it into the wall, and he kept it there.

“Well, well, Spider-man” the vulture said. “No so unstoppable now, huh?” He laughed, throwing his head back.

“What are we gonna do with you?” the symbiote hissed.

From the corner of his left, swollen eye, he thought he had seen an object levitating, but given his condition, he was probably hallucinating.

“Please” he whimpered, too beat up to form more words.

“Pleading, already?” Rhino mocked him.

“You will be pleading once I am done with you all” you said, standing behind them. Jess and Peter B accompanying you.

Each one of you took a target, getting them away from Miguel. You grabbed the vulture’s wings and threw him back, making him let go of Miguel.

Miguel fell to the ground, breathing heavily, putting a hand to his chest.

You rushed to his side, checking for serious injuries, but not seeing any major one.

“Hand in there Migs” you whispered, rubbing his shoulder lightly. “Once we are done I am taking you to the infirmary of HQ, no complaining, ‘kay?” you said sternly, before kissing his cheek and running to get the job back.

Not long after you were gone, Miguel passed out.

“I got him, I got him, thanks Jess” Miguel heard you say, and then he felt you placed him gently into a soft surface, presumably and infirmary bed.

Before slipping out of consciousness again, he heard some mumbling. Two people having a conversation, but he couldn’t make up the words. And then a meow. Was that a cat?.

Before he could give much thought to that, he passed out, yet again.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly. A ray of sunshine hitting him straight in the face through the semi-open curtains. He squinted, trying to get used to the light and make sense of where he was.

He rubbed his eyes slowly, noticing cables attached to his hands.

The sound of the heart machine giving him an idea of where he was.

He threw his head back, hitting the pillow and sighed. He hated being on the hospital, he dreaded it.

Looking to the side, expecting to see you sitting on a chair, he was met with a surprising sight.

A cat. A CAT??

What the hell is a cat doing in here? he thought, the only cat being able to roam the society being Spider-cat.

He frowned, watching how the unfamiliar animal slept peacefully, unaware that the person beside him, didn’t like him.

Once he heard the door open, he snapped his head towards it.

There you were, beautiful as always. You were too focus on the food tray on your hands to notice Miguel’s gaze.

“Hola hermosa”. he said groggily. (Hi beautiful)

The shock almost made you drop everything. Miguel giggled at the sight.

“Shit!” you exclaimed, balancing the food on your hands.

You rushed to place the tray on the table, before gently approaching your boyfriend, not wanting to startle him.

“Hi baby” you whispered, gently caressing his face, avoiding the various little scars that adorned it.

Miguel grabbed your wrist, nestling his face harder into the palm of your hand.

“Mmm” he mumbled, still too weak to have a long conversation.

You giggled, his sleepiness reminding you of the morning before he turned into a cat.

“You were out for a day.” you informed him, using your other hand to run your fingers through his messy pillow hair. You bent down, peppering the crown of his head with kisses, and then his other cheek. “Do you want food?” you asked

Miguel gently nodded into your hand, letting go of your wrist. His eyes fluttering open.

As you turned around, walking towards the tray, Miguel remembered the other living creature on the room.

“Whose cat is that?” he questioned.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Miguel saw you tense up, before quickly relaxing. You grabbed the tray of food, and turned.

Your gaze was fixated on the food on your hands, avoiding his. You looked guilty.

“Can you eat for yourself or you need help?” you mumbled, trying to change the conversation.

Miguel arched his eyebrow. “Don’t change the conversation darling. What’s the cat doing here?”

As in cue, the cat woke up, stretching his whole body on the chair.

You placed the tray on Miguel’s lap, before retracting your hands and playing with them, stretching the sleeves of your sweater.

“The food will get cold” you urged him.

Miguel kept looking at you, without breaking eye contact, while you were looking everywhere, except his eyes.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the caught move. Miguel turned his head towards him, watching the cat leap from the chair and land beside your feet.

He groomed himself a little, before sitting on his back legs and meowing right at you. He did that for a couple of seconds. You were trying to resist the urge to pet him and grab him, but that would make Miguel know he was yours.

Cheese, as you called him, grew tired of you not paying attention to him, so he stood up and rubbed his whole body on your legs, headbutting you repeatedly.

“Well,” Miguel said smirking. “that answers the question.”

You groaned, covering your face.

“I’m sorry” you said through your hands.

“So this is why you took so long?” Miguel questioned crossing his arms over his chest, wincing in pain at the action.

“Be careful.” you warned, concern lasing your voice. “And NO! How could you say that?” you defended yourself.

You reached down, grabbing the orange cat. He purred instantly, nestling himself in your chest. Miguel could already feel jealousy bubbling on his own.

“I just,” you began explaining yourself, walking slowly towards Miguel’s bed. “when you called, I was fighting my own Rhino. I admit it took longer than I expected, and I apologize for that. I took you for granted, I am so so sorry, I thought you could handle whatever it was for a few more minutes by yourself.” You bent down and kissed Miguel’s lips, slowly, trying to pour all your love into it. You pulled away slowly, your head resting against his. “Perdón mi vida.” (Sorry my life)

“It’s okay” Miguel whispered back.

“MEOOOWW” the cat squealed, clearly not being happy being squished between you too.

Miguel frowned again. He suspected that this wasn’t going to be the last time the cat was going to interrupt a nice moment between him and his girlfriend.

And it wasn’t

Despite Miguel’s complains, the cat stayed with you. You had explained how and where you had found him and how you were all he had in your world. Besides, you knew he couldn’t resist your puppy eyes, and you also reminded him of him agreeing back when he was a cat.

The only rule was that you couldn’t bring the cat to work, precisely, you couldn’t leave him alone with it.

Did you stick to your word? No, not at all. You honestly did what you pleased, and Miguel could only deal with it. To be honest, he would do and endure anything for you. How bad was dealing with a cat? There could be worse things.

Or that’s what he thought.

Cheese was a male orange cat, meaning, Miguel and him were constantly battling for your attention and affection. Again, for someone who claims he is not a cat… he sure acts like it when he needs to assert dominance.

For instance, there was a morning…

Miguel had stayed at your place, after you constantly begging him to take a break the night before. He gave in, not taking into account that that daemon was going to be accompanying you both.

With you, he was a saint. Always dropping on his back, exposing his fluffy stomach to you, begging you for pets, claiming all your undivided attention.

But once you left the room? The fight would begin. Miguel and him stared at each other, not breaking eye contact. Neither of them attempting to move, to cave in, to surrender.

“I brought food!” you sang, always smiling, unaware of the war taking place right in front of you.

Your two kitties snapped their heads towards you. Both jumping, standing on their feet to try to reach you first.

Thanks to his stature and long legs, Miguel managed to catch your attention first. He took his plate and that monsters food off your hands, placing his on the table beside him and the other quickly on the floor, before scoping you in his arms.

“Miguel!” you squealed, body flushed to his, arms wrapping around his neck.

Miguel swung you around, your feet not touching the ground. You giggled loudly, stomach hurting, throwing your head back.

Miguel took the opportunity to kiss your neck, producing even more happy sounds.

“Migss!” you laughed.

Your boyfriend stopped spinning around, and set you on your feet, giving you a tight hug. Your head on his chest and his on top of yours. Cheese was behind you, staring at the scene with an angry face.

Miguel noticed him and stuck his tongue out at him. Cheese bared his fangs in response, hissing. Miguel hissed back, also baring his fangs, clutching you harder.

“What was that?” you asked innocently.

“Nothing mi amor.” he answered quickly. (my love)

You squinted your eyes, being suspicious.

Cheese meowed behind you.

“He must not like his food” you said, trying to pull back from Miguel, but he pushed you against him harder.

“It is the same food from yesterday night.” he grumbled, clearly annoyed by the cat’s tactics to get your attention.

“Yes, but-”

“But nothing.” he cut you off. “He can eat by himself, while we enjoy our meal.”

You pouted, but accepted. You could sense someone was jealous. Even though you found it amusing, you knew not to push his buttons so harshly.

There was other time where Cheese was ‘not feeling good’ according to your words. You had been at home all day, taking care of your little poor kitty, when Miguel called you due to an ‘emergency’.

As you didn’t want to leave Cheese alone, you took him to HQ, much to Miguel’s dismay. As the mission on required you (because it was fricking simple, Miguel was only jealous of Cheese and he wanted your company, yours alone, but clearly you didn’t take the hint, or you did, but liked to tease him), you left Cheese to Miguel and Lyla.

“I remember telling you last time that I am not a babysitter” the AI complained, crossing her arms and staring at you through the top of her glasses that laid on the bridge of her nose.

“I knooow” you whined. “But hey! You took care of Miguel last time, how hard can a real cat be?” you said, trying to sound convincing.

“You do have a point.” she replied, resting her chin in her fist, thinking.

“I was not difficult.” Miguel huffed.

“Debatable.” Lyla said. “And also, if you take into account that it was Miguel as a cat, I say I did take care of a cat.”

“I am not a cat!” Miguel snapped.

Both you and Lyla laughed.

“Please take care of him, both of you.” you said, pointing at both of them. “He is not feeling that well. I left a note with his cares just in case here” you finished, placing a bag on Miguel’s desk.

Miguel side-eyed it, not happy with taking care of his arch nemesis, but he knew you would be pissed at him if he didn’t, and that would be a win for the cat. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Okay” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Thank you Migss” you squealed, kissing him on the cheek. “Bye Cheese” you waved to the cat before opening a portal and exiting.

Silenced consumed the room. Lyla, sensing the tension, disappeared.

Miguel made eye contact with Cheese. They both immerse in an intense battle.

“Are you even sick?” Miguel asked, clearly losing his mind. Why the hell am I talking to a cat? he thought.

Cheese simply meowed, and then proceeded to groom himself.

Miguel shocked his head, he was clearly exhausted and out of his mind if he thought the cat could talk about. But he knew it! The cat had you wrapped around his little paw, and he was losing your attention.

Okay, find, he was probably exaggerating. Was he jealous of the cat? Yes, sure. Would he ever admit it to you? Not a chance. Would he even admit that the main reason why he is jealous is not the fact that maybe your attention is not solely on him anymore, but the fact that he thinks you got a cat because you miss taking care of him when he was a cat? Absolutely not.

It was not long ago he admitted to himself that he missed being a cat, and that he was in fact a cat. How could he not? He didn’t have to work, he could sleep however, whenever and wherever he wanted, he didn’t need to cook. All he had to do was be cute and wait for your pets, and cuddle with you. And, he would admit, that he liked being carried by you.

He liked being taller than you, and stronger. He could pick you up like you were a feather. But being smaller than you gave him a sense of comfort and sleeping on top of you, without crashing you, was amazing.

So yes, he was jealous of the cat because he could do all those things, and here he was, sitting on a chair, staring at screen flashing warning signs of anomalies, while fricking Cheese is sleeping on the floor, like nothing matters. The cat hadn’t shown any sign of being sick, he was an actor. They should give him an Oscar for this. But two could play that game.

In a blink of an eye, you were back at HQ. You made a quick stop in the cages to drop the anomaly off. You couldn’t believe Miguel called you for this. That was the emergency? Mayday could have catch this thing in a second. If you were ripped out of your house, at least you expected a good fight, that this one barely tickled you.

You sighed, entering Miguel’s office now. You barely made a sound, but thanks to Miguel’s heightened senses and training, he knew you were coming. Let the show begin he thought.

Miguel slumped over his desk, face down, arms covering it. He sighed loudly, trying to catch your attention before it was diverted to the cat laying a few meters away from him on the floor.

“I’m back Migs.” you said, approaching Miguel.

He simply sighed again, moving his whole body to accentuate his ‘fatigue’.

You frowned, not expecting to see your boyfriend like this. You left basically five minutes ago and he was fine.

“What’s wrong mi amor?” (my love) you said, gently rubbing circles on his shoulder.

Miguel simply groaned.

“You weren’t like this when I left.” you continued.

“Mmm” he simply replied.

Lyla appeared without making any sound, trying not to alert Miguel. She called your attention and once you looked up towards her and the screens, she wrote: ‘He is pretending, and so is your cat’

“What?” you mouthed.

Lyla simple shrugged and disappeared, leaving you with two ‘sick cats’.

What the hell? you thought. Why would they pretend to be… oh

It dawned on you. This two stupid kitties. From Cheese you could understand, he was merely a cat, but Miguel? Your silly grumpy boyfriend. You laughed to yourself. They want to pretend? Let’s see how amazing actors they are you thought.

“Are you sick Miggy?” you cooed at your boyfriend, bending down a little to be at eye level with him.

Miguel turned his head towards you, his cheek resting against his arm, squishing his face. He pouted.

“Mmm” he replied.

“Oh poor Miggy” you said, mirroring his pout. “Why don’t I take you and Cheese how, so I can cuddle you both and make you feel better.” you pecked Miguel’s cheek.

As you were pulling back, you saw in the corner of your eye how Miguel’s facade fell for a second, frowning. Clearly he wanted your attention completely, he didn’t count on sharing it with the cat.

He regained his pouty face, giving you puss in boots eyes. (is this even the equivalent to puppy eyes?? I didn’t want to put puppy eyes giving the fact that Miguel is a cat hahahaha)

He sniffed, ‘aggravating’ his state.

“Okay” he mumbled, clearly, he couldn’t tell you the cat was faking without blowing his cover.

“Okay” you whispered back, rubbing circles on his back. “Why don’t you take Cheese to my apartment, I’ll meet you there in a few.”

“I don’t know if I am strong enough” Miguel mumbled, trying to convince you to take him.

“Migs” you sighed straightening up. “I know you are feeling a little under the weather, but we can’t live the multiverse unattended, can we?” you questioned, resting your hands in your hips.

Shit, you are right Miguel thought.

“Maybe you are a little sicker than I thought if the multiverse isn’t on your mind” you smirked for a second, making Miguel frown. Where you catching on him?

“You go to my apartment, take Cheese. Leave the bag, I’ll take it later. I am going to look for Jess, and then I go” You pecked his cheek and off you were, sprinting out of the office.

Miguel huffed, he clearly didn’t think this plan through. He sat back on his chair, running his fingers throw his hair. Maybe this was going to be more difficult than he thought.

He lulled his head to the right, where the cat was still sleeping, unaware of what had just happened. Miguel sighed, knowing he had to pick up this monster, and that it wasn’t going to be happy about it. He wasn’t either.

He stood up and walked towards Cheese. Bending down, he stroke his fur, maybe a friendly approach would save him from scratches. Cheese purr a little, not knowing who was petting him. Even though Miguel didn’t really like him, he had to admit he was friendly, always asking everyone for pets.

Slowly, Cheese opened his eyes. As soon as they laid on Miguel he meowed loudly and jumped in the air, getting away from Miguel. Cheese hissed, his tail up and rigid.

“Hey!” Miguel said loudly, putting his hands up in defense. “I know you don’t like me, I don’t either. I don’t know if you understand, but your mama told me to take you home. If she walks through that door,” he pointed to his office’s door. “and sees us here, she’ll know we are full of bullshit, because you know and I know you aren’t sick. So quit being a pain in the ass and let me grab you.”

Cheese stood in his place, as did Miguel, both of them as statues, observing each other. Seconds went by, and Cheese relaxed. Maybe he does understand Miguel thought.

The cat walked carefully towards Miguel. Miguel bent down and picked him up, making Cheese meow loudly.

Once Miguel placed him in his arms, Cheese took his claws out, scratching Miguel a little.

“Ay mierda” he exclaimed. “Hey! Claws in, you don’t want me to take mine out” (Ay shit)

Cheese hissed at him, baring his fangs. Miguel did the same. Both stared at each other.

They could have stayed liked that for hours, but they were snapped of their state when they both heard your voice approaching, accompanied by someone else.

Miguel rushed to open a portal to your dimension and barely made it through when you entered the office. He could hear you talking and laughing with Jess, but he didn’t stay to not rise suspicions. He closed the portal and waited.

Meanwhile…

Jess laughed, grabbing her sides.

“Miguel is pretending to be sick?” she laughed, using her finger to take the tears out of her eye.

“I knoww” you said. “And my cat too. They are both so silly”

“It looks like they are competing for your attention”

You rolled your eyes. “It does look like it. I can understand it from Cheese. But Miguel could talk to me.”

“You know his forte isn’t opening up. You are lucky he told you he loved you.”

“Hey!! He has love in his heart. He just, he suffered a lot.” you pouted.

“I know, I know. I am messing with ya. But you should let him know that it is okay to be vulnerable sometimes. That is what partners are for. If we don’t trust them with our feelings, who then?” Jess explained.

“Yeah, you are right. After a mess with them a little I’ll tell him.”

“Good.”

“Thanks for this Jess. Promise I’ll make it up to you.” you said, going in for a hug.

“No problem girl.” she hugged you back, rubbing your back.

“Well, byeee.” you said, pulling back and opening a portal.

“Bye!” Jess said, waving at you.

Back at your apartment, Miguel decided to wait for you in your bed. He left Cheese on his bed, both of them not wanting to be nowhere near each other if not necessary.

You appeared from a portal, giving Miguel just the right seconds to get back into character. He covered his head with an arm, blocking the light.

“Ohh Migs. Still feeling bad?” you cooed, sitting next to him on the bed and rubbing his chest gently.

Miguel nodded.

“Do you want food?”

Miguel nodded again.

“Okay”

Miguel felt the bed move when you stood up and heard the shuffle of your feet walking away.

You stopped right in front of Cheese’s bed and dropped to the floor.

“How is my little baby” you said pouting, scoping Cheese gently and petting him.

Cheese meowed and headbutted you.

“You want cuddles huh?” you smirked, looking back at Miguel, checking if he was listening. “What do you say if I take you to the kitchen and we cook Papa’s food together?” you kissed the top of his head.

Miguel groaned behind you.

“You are his Papa, whether you like him or not.” you explained, talking to Miguel.

Miguel groaned again, this time not only because of what you said, but because you were going to cuddle with Cheese while he had to pretend to be sick. This plan was biting him in the ass.

You stood up and walked out of the room, shutting the room to not disturb Miguel.

After an hour or so, you finished Miguel’s soup. If you were being honest, you didn’t cuddle Cheese at all, it is difficult to cook with a cat in your arms. Besides, you called his bullshit. You knew he was a smart cat, and really cuddly, so little did you know he could pull a stunt like this.

But, to continue to tease Miguel a little further, you placed Cheese on your shoulders and tried to balance him and the tray of food in your hands. You walked towards your bedroom slowly, for one, to not drop the food and two to see if you could catch Miguel red handed, which would be unlikely, he could hear everything.

Opening the door was a real challenge. Once you were able to do so, you peeked your head through. Miguel was spread out on the bed over his stomach, snoring lightly. You pouted. Maybe he wasn’t really sick, but he was for sure tired.

You opened the door further. You walked into the room trying to not make any noise. Cheese jumped off your shoulder and landed carefully on the floor, next to his bed. You walked further and placed the tray on the table next to your bed, giving your back to Miguel.

“Baby?” Miguel said groggily.

Your turned around startled.

“Migs” you whispered, moving towards him. “Did I wake you up?”

Miguel shook his head, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, pouting.

You sat on the bed slowly, stroking his back.

“Do you want to eat?” you asked.

He shook his head again.

“I have to tell you something” he began, avoiding your eyes. “I-” he closed his mouth, he couldn’t find the words. He didn’t want to admit what he had done.

You giggled before kissing his cheek and then shoulder.

“It’s okay Migs, I know”

“You know?” he said, opening his eyes.

“Yeah, I had my suspicions, but then Lyla confirmed them.”

“Lyla” Miguel groaned, planting his face back on the pillow.

You laughed. He was such a baby. You ran your fingers through his messy curls, massaging his scalp. You stood up, making him turn his head towards you. You pulled back the covers and climbed into bed with him.

“You know,” you began, using your thumb to move the hair out of his face. “you don’t have to pretend to be sick to have my attention.”

Miguel looked down, avoiding your eyes.

“Hey” you whispered, putting a finger under his chin so he would look at you. “I’m sorry if you feel like I am not paying enough attention to you. I know I have been a lot with Cheese, and I am sorry.” you kissed his forehead, moving your hands to play with the hairs on the back of his head and resting your forehead in his. “But you have to tell me how you feel too, si amor?” (yes love?)

He nodded, gently nestling his nose with yours. You smiled.

“I’m sorry for calling you up for an emergency when there wasn’t any and for pretending to be sick” he said.

“It’s okay.” you mumbled, beginning to feel sleepy. “It serves as an excuse to rest for a day, and you too mister. You aren’t going to HQ again.”

Miguel smiled. “I wasn’t planning to.”

You yawned, rubbing your eyes. You smiled at Miguel and rubbed behind his ears and under his chin. Maybe it was your sleepy state, but it seemed like he liked it and you thought you heard him purr.

At last, Miguel moved to rest on top of you, his head on your chest. You played with his hair, listening to his breathing, luring you to sleep. Cheese jumped on the bed and climbed on top of Miguel’s back, loafing up and closing his eyes.

With one hand you stroked Cheese and with the other you played with Miguel’s hair.

In the end, both your kitties were happy.

THE END or is it??

<< Part 2 <Masterlist> Bonus >>

I honestly love how this mini series turned out. Given that I couldn't put some dialogue I wanted in this, maybe I'll edit it later, and then repost it hahahaha. Anyway, hope you liked it!!! If you want to be tagged in the bonuses or you have requests about this "series' universe" if you'll like to call it that haha, let me know!!! I am happy to write more about this.

I honestly feel like every story I write is in a different universe, or well, that's what I think. So this is the kitty universe hahaha

TAGS: @glaciertea

[nevernonline]

✧.* pancakes for dinner; svt smau

chapter 12.5; boo's big bash (bonus written chapter.)

synopsis: y/n while in her third year at greenwood international university finally gets an opportunity to move off campus into a new complex, she has to deal with the realization that her childhood rival is her new next door neighbor.

 paring: seungcheol x fem! reader. 

feat: non-idol! svt,  other passing idols ykyk.

genre/s: reader is super oblivious, fluffy, sexual themes. 

content: swearing, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

updates: weekly

word count: 16.3

tag list - open

masterlist ▸ 12. social cues ▸ 13. fallout

Y/N stood in front of her mirror, smoothing down her outfit for the hundredth time. Her phone buzzed faintly on the desk beside her, but she ignored it. She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that tonight wasn’t just about a party.

Seungcheol’s behavior had been eating at her since the other night. Their secret friendship—something they’d both agreed to keep private for reasons that made sense at the time—had felt strained. His texts were shorter, his smile a little less easy, and when she’d bumped into him in the hallway this morning, he’d barely looked at her before mumbling an excuse and disappearing back into his apartment.

Had she done something wrong? She replayed every interaction in her mind, searching for an answer. Maybe it was the housewarming duel? He could be taking the friendly rivalry a little too seriously, Y/n knew he was always up for competition, but that didn’t feel like the whole story.

Y/N sighed, picking up her phone and scrolling to his contact. She wanted to text him, to ask if they were okay, before the party, hoping to at least have a small faint interaction between secret friends, but something held her back. What if she was overthinking it? What if she made it worse?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on her door. “Y/N?” Mingyu’s voice called. “You okay in there? Everyone’s waiting.”

She hesitated, smoothing her dress again and forcing a smile onto her face, even though no one could see it. “Yeah, just fixing a couple things. Be out in a minute!”

On the other side of the door, Mingyu lingered, his hand still resting on the knob. He debated saying something—apologizing, maybe. He knew why Seungcheol had been acting off, and guilt twisted in his stomach even though he didn’t know the whole story about Cheol and Y/n’s current relationship. He just did what he wanted without asking her how she felt and it didn’t make him feel good. Last night, after a few drinks and too many moments of watching Seungcheol hover near Y/N like he owned the air she breathed, Mingyu had snapped.

Mingyu hadn’t replied further, but the tension in his jaw when Seungcheol saw him earlier today said plenty.

Inside the room, Y/N took a deep breath, her heart heavy with confusion. Whatever was going on with Seungcheol, she’d have to push it aside for now. Tonight was supposed to be fun no matter how much she just wanted to curl up under her sheets and ignore it. 

Y/N gave herself one last once-over in the mirror, tugging at the hem of her cream-colored cropped cardigan that sat snugly over a simple beige tank top. Her high-waisted light wash jeans hugged her just right, paired with a set of clean white sneakers that gave her look an effortlessly casual vibe. She’d added a few subtle gold accessories—a dainty necklace and matching hoops—that shimmered under the soft glow of her desk lamp. It wasn’t over-the-top, but it was her: comfortable, easy, yet just put-together enough to feel confident.

But despite how good she looked, the unease in her chest didn’t budge.

When she opened the door, Mingyu was leaning against the hallway wall, scrolling through his phone, but his head snapped up the second he saw her. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he forgot what he was supposed to say.

“Wow,” he muttered under his breath, standing up straighter.

Y/N paused, eyebrows raised. “What? Too casual? I knew I should’ve gone for that dress—”

“No, no,” Mingyu interrupted, shaking his head as a soft grin tugged at his lips. “You look great.”

Y/N laughed, brushing past him toward the living room where Yuqi and the others were waiting, but Mingyu stayed rooted in place for a moment longer, his fists clenching at his sides.

Whatever happened tonight, he wasn’t going to let Seungcheol—or anyone—hurt her.

The pre-party buzz filled Y/N’s apartment as she hurried between rooms, trying to wrangle last-minute details for the night’s housewarming showdown. Yuqi was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her playlist with the intensity of a DJ about to headline Coachella.

“Y/N, I swear to fucking god, if I don’t get full control of the music tonight, I’m defecting to the boys' apartment,” she teased, shooting a smirk over her shoulder.

“Bold of you to assume they'd let you touch their playlist,” Mark quipped, walking in with two glasses of wine. “We can’t risk losing the MVP before we even start.”

In the kitchen, Hoshi was busy assembling snacks, humming a tune while occasionally sneaking chips into his mouth. Mingyu, meanwhile, leaned against the counter, eyes trailing Y/N as she darted around.

“Relax, Y/N. It’s just a party,” Mingyu said, trying to sound casual, though his heart raced every time she glanced his way.

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, sure. Just a party where half of our friends are going to judge who’s got the better vibes, plus a bunch of random ass people that Seungkwan invited will be in my home.  No pressure at all.”

Across the hall, Seungcheol and Seungkwan were prepping their apartment with an equal mix of friendly competition and mild chaos. But here, in Y/N’s apartment, the air felt different.

Mingyu caught Yuqi’s knowing smirk as he watched Y/N adjust the decorations. “What, Troll?” he muttered defensively.

“Nothing,” Yuqi sang, but the look she exchanged with Hoshi said it all.

The tension wasn’t just about the party anymore—especially not for Mingyu, who’d been watching Seungcheol’s shitty attempts to get closer to Y/N for weeks without knowing the real truth of the situation. Tonight wasn’t just about which apartment would win; it was about keeping feelings in check in the middle of a warzone of snacks, games, and underlying rivalries.

“Alright, team,” Yuqi said, clapping her hands. “This is it. Are we ready?”

As the group cheered, Mingyu’s phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from Seungcheol.

"Try not to get in my way tonight, Mingyu."

Seungcheol paced around his apartment, the soft hum of music doing little to settle the storm in his head. Seungkwan was in the kitchen, hyper-focused on arranging the snack table to look like something straight out of a lifestyle blog.

“Cheol, seriously, if you’re not going to fucking help, can you at least stop pacing? You’re literally giving me anxiety, and I’m already stressed about Yuqi taking this fake rivalry too far and trying to destroy us tonight,” Seungkwan said, throwing a handful of pretzels into a bowl with dramatic flair.

“Sorry,” Seungcheol muttered, running a hand through his hair. His gaze drifted to his phone on the counter, his thoughts circling back to Y/N for the hundredth time that day.

He’d been trying so hard to rebuild things with her. Their friendship now, as quiet and under-the-radar as it was, felt fragile. It had taken years to even get to this point after what he’d done.

Betrayal.

The word still stung. They’d been inseparable as teenagers until he screwed everything up. She’d trusted him, and he’d let her down in a way he hadn’t been able to forgive himself for, even now.

“Cheol, stop overthinking,” Seungkwan said, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. “I know you’ve been trying to make things right with Y/N or whatever other things you're always brooding about, but tonight isn’t the night to get all serious about it, it’s a night to forget that shit and have fun, maybe meet another girl for once? Just keep it light, have fun, and, for the love of everything holy, do not make it fucking weird.”

Seungcheol frowned, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t planning to make it weird.”

Seungkwan shot him a look. “You get that face every time she’s mentioned. The guilt. Just relax, okay? Be your charming, fun self. Save the heartfelt apologies and deep talks for literally any night but this one. It’s a party, plus it’s half our party. So, lighten up.”

Seungcheol sighed, his fingers twitching with the urge to grab his phone and text her, but he knew Seungkwan had a point. Tonight was supposed to be fun. Still, it wasn’t easy to just set aside the weight of their history, or the complicated tangle of feelings that came with their secret friendship now.

And then there was Mingyu.

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened as his phone screen lit up with another notification. Mingyu hadn’t sent anything since last night’s pointed text, but the words still echoed in his head.

"If you’re just going to keep stringing her along, back off. You don’t deserve her."

The thing was, maybe Mingyu was right. Maybe he didn’t deserve her—not after what he’d done. But that didn’t stop the quiet moments they shared from replaying in his mind, the way she laughed when he managed to get her to let her guard down, the rare moments when she looked at him like she had back then, before everything went wrong.

“Cheol.”

Seungkwan’s voice pulled him back to the present. He was holding up a perfectly arranged tray of sliders. “Try one and tell me these don’t scream ‘winner of the housewarming duel.’”

Seungcheol managed a small smile, grabbing a slider. “Yeah, they look great.”

“Great? Great?” Seungkwan huffed. “You’re impossible. I swear, if I lose to Yuqi and Y/N because you’re too busy brooding over old fucking teenage angst, I’ll never fucking let you live it down.”

Seungcheol chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it light.”

But as he glanced at his phone again, Mingyu’s message and Y/N’s name swirling in his thoughts, he couldn’t help but wonder if avoiding it all for the night was going to be as easy as Seungkwan made it sound.

The warm hum of laughter and music filled Y/N and Yuqi’s apartment, the cozy yet lively atmosphere setting the perfect tone for the night ahead. Yuqi was already buzzing with energy, standing on one of the kitchen stools and declaring herself the queen as she handed out glasses for a pre-party toast.

“Alright, everyone!” Yuqi clapped her hands, her grin lighting up the room. “Before the chaos begins and this hallway rivalry gets out of hand, let’s take a moment to acknowledge one important thing: we are the fucking moment.”

Y/N laughed as she leaned against the kitchen counter, her gold hoops catching the light. Mingyu handed her a glass, his fingers brushing hers for a split second, but she didn’t seem to notice. He, however, did, and it sent a jolt through his chest.

Seungkwan, standing near the doorway with Mark, rolled his eyes. “Yuqi, you’re making this sound like we’re about to head into battle.”

“Aren’t we?” Yuqi shot back, raising her glass high. “To good vibes, great snacks, and absolutely annihilating the dumb boys across the hall. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” Everyone echoed, laughter erupting as they clinked their glasses together.

Seungcheol was the last to walk into the room, holding a bottle of tequila he’d brought over. He paused in the doorway for a moment, his eyes instantly finding Y/N. She was laughing, her smile brighter than the overhead lights, her glass raised as she playfully bumped shoulders with Mingyu.

That familiar ache crept back into his chest, but he shook it off, forcing a casual smile as he stepped in.

“You made it!” Yuqi cheered, hopping off her stool and snagging the bottle from his hands. “And you come bearing gifts. Good choice, Cheol. You might just be safe from our wrath tonight. But, guys wait- we have to have another drink quickly before people come because Seungcheol is here now.”

“Lucky me,” he said with a smirk, though his eyes flickered to Y/N again, who had just noticed him. She gave him a small, almost hesitant smile, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room faded away.

“Cheol!” Hoshi called, breaking the moment. “You’re just in time for the.. second toast. We were about to declare Y/N and Yuqi’s apartment the better party spot.”

“Bold of you to assume,” Seungcheol shot back, making his way to the group and grabbing an empty glass Yuqi shoved into his hand.

“Alright, alright,” Y/N said, stepping forward to get everyone’s attention. Her voice was warm and steady, her presence instantly commanding the room. “Before this whole hallway rivalry spirals out of control, let’s just take a second to appreciate the fact that we’ve got two great apartments, a bunch of good music, and way too many people about to cram into this building.” She raised her glass. “To a good night, no matter whose party wins.”

The group cheered, clinking glasses again before downing their drinks.

As the laughter died down, Yuqi grabbed Seungkwan’s arm. “Alright, you little fucking traitor. Let’s go make sure your place isn’t falling apart. I need to see this insane spread you’ve been bragging about.”

“Fine, fine,” Seungkwan grumbled, letting himself be dragged to the door. “Just don’t touch anything. We’re running a tight ship over there.”

The group started shuffling toward the hallway, but Seungcheol lingered for a moment, watching as Y/N placed her glass on the counter. She caught his gaze, tilting her head slightly in question.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked softly, her voice cutting through the noise.

He hesitated, the weight of everything he wanted to say pressing against his chest. But before he could answer, Mingyu appeared at her side, slinging an arm around her shoulders with a grin.

“Come on, Y/N,” Mingyu said. “Let’s go see if Seungkwan’s sliders live up to the hype.”

Y/N laughed, giving Seungcheol one last look almost as if to tell him she’s sorry, even if she had no clue what was really going on before letting Mingyu guide her toward the door.

Seungcheol clenched his jaw, draining the rest of his cup in one go. Tonight was going to be harder than he thought. 

The hallway between the two apartments was already bustling, with a few early arrivals laughing and chatting as they migrated back and forth between the two party zones. Y/N and Mingyu trailed behind the group, their steps falling into an easy rhythm.

“You’re really going to let them think Kwan’s sliders are better than your spread?” Mingyu teased, bumping her shoulder lightly with his.

Y/N smirked, her hands tucked casually into her pockets, begging internally for a drink “Please. I had one of Seungkwan’s sliders earlier, and they’re good, but Yuqi and I? We’ve got the edge. It’s all about presentation.”

“Ah, so you’re playing the long game,” Mingyu said, nodding sagely. “Distract them with good vibes while subtly crushing their spirits. Respect.”

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Exactly. It’s all part of the plan.”

As they reached the doorway to Seungcheol and Seungkwan’s apartment, Mingyu placed a hand on the doorframe, pausing for a moment to glance at her. “You look really nice tonight, by the way, I know I already told you that, but it can't hurt to tell you again,” he said casually, though the faint hint of nerves in his voice betrayed him.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, you’re a charmer tonight, huh? But, you too,” she replied, giving him a small smile. Mingyu always knew how to make people feel at ease, and tonight was no exception.

He hesitated for a second, then tilted his head, his gaze softening. “You okay? You’ve seemed a little… I don’t know, distracted tonight.”

Y/N froze for a moment, debating how to respond. Should she tell him about the knot of confusion in her chest, the questions swirling around Seungcheol and whatever invisible tension had been hanging between them lately? But that felt too complicated to explain, and besides, this was supposed to be a night for fun, not overthinking.

“I’m fine,” she said finally, brushing it off with a small wave of her hand. “Just trying to make sure everything runs smoothly, you know? I need some drinks.”

Mingyu studied her for a moment longer, his lips pressing into a thin line like he wanted to say something else. But before he could, Seungkwan’s voice boomed from inside the apartment.

“Yuqi! Stop fucking rearranging the snack table! I had a system!”

Y/N and Mingyu exchanged an amused look before stepping inside. The apartment was already buzzing with energy, the warm lighting and neatly arranged snacks giving it a welcoming feel.

“Looks good in here,” Y/N commented, scanning the space. Her eyes landed on Seungcheol, who was standing near the makeshift bar, a drink in hand. He caught her gaze for a split second before looking away, his expression unreadable.

“Impressive,” Mingyu said, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “But still not as good as ours.”

Y/N laughed, letting Mingyu’s easy humor lighten her mood. But as she moved further into the apartment, she couldn’t shake the lingering weight of Seungcheol’s fleeting glance, or the way her chest tightened at the thought of everything unspoken between them.

Seungcheol leaned against the makeshift bar in the corner, one hand loosely holding his drink while the other drummed against the edge of the counter. He was trying to stay present, trying to focus on the party around him, but his gaze kept pulling back to the doorway like a magnet.

And then there she was.

Y/N stepped into the apartment with Mingyu by her side, the two of them sharing a quiet laugh that twisted something deep in his chest. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her neutral-toned outfit perfectly complementing the way she carried herself—confident, warm, and completely oblivious to the storm she stirred inside him.

Seungcheol’s grip tightened around his glass as he watched Mingyu lean in, saying something that made her laugh again. The sound was soft, unguarded, the kind of laugh that used to be just for him, back when they were younger and everything was simpler. Before he ruined it.

“Cheol!” Seungkwan’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to see his friend approaching with Yuqi trailing behind him, holding a slider in each hand.

“What’s with the broody look? I thought I told you no brooding.” Seungkwan asked, raising an eyebrow as he nudged Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“I’m not brooding,” Seungcheol said, though he knew it sounded unconvincing.

Yuqi, never one to miss an opportunity, jumped in. “He’s totally brooding. Classic Seungcheol move. What’s it about this time? Did someone insult your taste in music again?”

Seungcheol forced a chuckle, shaking his head. “Just tired, that’s all.”

Yuqi narrowed her eyes suspiciously but didn’t push. “Well, snap out of it. This is a fucking party, not a therapy session. You’ll have plenty of time to sulk after tonight.”

As Yuqi wandered off to inspect the snack table again, Seungkwan leaned closer, dropping his voice. “Look, I know I said to keep it light tonight, but you’re not exactly selling the whole ‘charming and fun’ vibe. Whatever’s going on with Y/N, just… don’t let it mess with your head too much, okay? Mingyu’s clearly trying to make his move, and if you’re going to act like this all night, you might as well hand him the win.”

Seungcheol bristled, his jaw tightening. “I’m not competing with Mingyu.”

“Well, that’s good,” Seungkwan said with a shrug. “Because you’d lose. The guy’s been attached to her for a lot longer than you have.”

Seungcheol’s eyes flicked back to Y/N, who was now standing by the living room sofa with Mingyu, a soft smile on her face as he animatedly told a story. Her laugh rang out again, and Seungcheol felt that familiar ache, the one that always came with being so close to her yet feeling miles apart.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to Seungkwan.

But as he took another sip of his drink, the bitter taste of jealousy lingered far longer than it should have.

Just as he was about to lose himself in thought again, a familiar voice pulled him back.

“Hey, bartender.”

Seungcheol turned his head sharply, surprised to see Y/N standing just a few feet away, leaning casually against the bar. Her expression was light, playful, though he caught the subtle tension in her shoulders, the faint flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

“You look like you could use a distraction,” she continued, raising an eyebrow as she gestured to the drink in his hand. “How about you do a girl a favor and make me one of whatever you’ve got there?”

He blinked at her, momentarily stunned. It had been days since she’d initiated a casual conversation like this, and it threw him off balance. “You want me to make you a drink?”

She grinned, tilting her head. “Isn’t that what you’re doing? Or are you just going to fucking stand here looking cool for fun?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her teasing tone, the smallest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Alright, alright. What do you want?”

“Surprise me,” she said, leaning her elbows on the bar as she watched him.

Seungcheol nodded, turning to the bottles in front of him. His hands moved with practiced ease, pouring and mixing as if it were second nature. The act of making the drink gave him something to focus on, a brief reprieve from the chaos in his mind.

“You’re unusually chipper tonight,” he said after a moment, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

“Chipper?” she echoed, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know this is just my default party mode. Someone has to keep things fun around here.”

He glanced at her, his expression softening. “It suits you.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, though she masked it with a quick laugh. “Careful, Cheol. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

He smirked, sliding the finished drink across the counter to her. “Maybe it was.”

She took a sip, her eyebrows raising in approval. “Not bad. You might actually have some hidden talents after all.”

“Only some?” he teased, leaning against the counter now, his earlier tension easing slightly in her presence.

“I’m still collecting data,” she said with a shrug, her smile teasing.

For a moment, it felt like old times—like the weight of their shared history, their secrets, and their unspoken tension had faded into the background. But the moment was fleeting, and as Mingyu’s voice called out from across the room, Y/N straightened, her playful demeanor shifting back into something more guarded.

“Thanks for the drink,” she said, her voice softer now. “I should probably—”

Seungcheol just nodded, “Yeah. Catch you later.” 

Seungcheol wasn’t sure what Mingyu’s play was with Y/n. Obviously he didn’t know she was actually rebuilding her friendship with Seungcheol behind closed doors yet, but somehow Mingyu was onto something or at least thought he was and was going to do anything in his power to stay in the way of them. 

Seungkwan leaned against the far wall, sipping his drink as he took in the scene before him. The party was in full swing now, with more people trickling into the apartment and the energy growing louder, livelier. But his sharp eyes, as always, weren’t distracted by the chaos. They were focused on one corner of the room.

He’d seen the way Y/N had walked over to Seungcheol at the bar, her easy smile and casual demeanor masking something more. And he’d seen the way Seungcheol had looked at her—like she was the only person in the room, even when she wasn’t trying to be.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was more going on between those two than either of them let on.

“Why do you look like you’re plotting something?” Yuqi’s voice broke through his thoughts, and Seungkwan turned to see her standing next to him, arms crossed, her gaze following his.

“I’m not plotting,” he said defensively.

Yuqi arched an eyebrow. “Sure, and I’m not typsy. You’ve been staring at Y/N and Cheol like you’re watching a soap opera.”

“I’m just… observing,” Seungkwan admitted, lowering his voice slightly. “There’s something fucking weird going on with them.”

Yuqi narrowed her eyes thoughtfully as she watched Y/N walk away from the bar, drink in hand, and rejoin Mingyu, who immediately looped an arm around her shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. Meanwhile, Seungcheol was left behind, his expression carefully blank, though Yuqi could tell he was anything but calm.

“Weird how?” Yuqi asked, turning back to Seungkwan.

“I literally don’t know,” Seungkwan said, frowning. “Cheol’s been acting off around her for weeks, and I know he’s been trying to apologize for, like, literally fucking everything he did back when they were younger. But he’s being so… I don’t know? Cryptic about it. And now weirdly he’s so mad about Mingyu being in the picture, and—”

“Ohhh,” Yuqi interrupted, her eyes lighting up. “Are you saying you think it’s a love triangle?”

“What? No? That actually didn’t cross my mind.” Seungkwan hissed, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “It’s not… okay, fine, maybe it’s a little like that. But whatever it is, it’s just so messy, and they’re clearly not handling it well. The energy has been weird especially after last night.” 

Yuqi smirked, but then her gaze shifted to another part of the room where Vernon stood near the bookshelf, quietly chatting with a small group of friends. “You do have a point but I have a feeling you’re focusing on the wrong guy,” she said, nodding toward Vernon. “What about him?”

Seungkwan blinked, taken aback. “Vernon? Seriously?”

“Yes, dumbass.  Seriously. ” Yuqi shot back, her hands on her hips. “He’s literally fucking perfect for Y/N. Chill, kind, actually emotionally available. You know, unlike some people. And bonus, he knows her so well, he hasn’t been this social in years.”

Seungkwan followed her gaze, his expression skeptical. “I don’t know. Vernon’s great and all, but does he even like her like that?”

Yuqi rolled her eyes. “Of fucking course he does. Do you think he spends all that time around her just for fun? He’s lowkey about it, but I can tell. He’s got a crush. Well, probably has had a fucking crush for over a decade. And honestly? She deserves someone like him.”

Seungkwan glanced back at Vernon, who had just caught Y/N’s eye from across the room and offered her a small, shy smile. She smiled back, and for a brief moment, it was like the tension from earlier melted away.

“Hmm,” Seungkwan muttered, sipping his drink thoughtfully. “You might just have a point, my little devil friend. He’s drama free at least, which she definitely deserves.”

“Exactly,” Yuqi said, nudging him with her elbow. “So maybe instead of obsessing over Seungcheol and Mingyu, we should help Vernon out. He’s like the black sheep, and you know how much I love an underdog story.”

Seungkwan sighed, rubbing his temple. “I don’t fucking know, Yuqi. This whole thing is already a huge ass mess. Adding Vernon into the mix feels like lighting a match in a fireworks factory.”

“Or,” Yuqi said with a grin, “it could be the spark that finally gets her to realize who’s actually worth her time.”

Seungkwan shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” Yuqi replied, raising her glass in mock cheers.

Seungkwan chuckled, but as he glanced back at Y/N, who was now laughing at something Mingyu said while Seungcheol lingered in the background, he couldn’t help but wonder if Yuqi might actually be onto something.

Y/n hadn’t realized her drink dried up until she went to take another sip. She casually excused herself and found the way back to the bar through the streams of people going in and out of each room, talking and mingling. 

The figure standing and looking into the fridge nearly startled her when she got bumped into his back, but she immediately recognized the smell of their cologne. 

“Trying to kill me, y/n?” Vernon turned around, smiling while he cracked open a can of beer. 

“Thought it would be a nice way to take you out, when you least expected it.” 

Y/N smirked, leaning against the counter as Vernon chuckled, his eyes crinkling in that way that always made him seem effortlessly calm. He handed her the opened can, grabbing another for himself before shutting the fridge.

“Well,” he said, twisting the tab open with ease, “if that’s your plan, you’ll have to try harder. I’ve got quick reflexes.”

“Oh, is that so?” Y/N quipped, raising an eyebrow as she took a sip.

“Mm-hmm.” Vernon leaned against the counter beside her, tilting his head slightly as he studied her. “You okay? You seem kind of distant tonight.”

The question caught her off guard. She’d been so focused on keeping up appearances and untangling the web of emotions around Seungcheol and Mingyu that she hadn’t realized how transparent she might seem.

“I’m fine,” she said after a beat, though the way Vernon’s eyes narrowed told her he wasn’t buying it. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice easy but sincere.

Y/N hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her can. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to dive into everything, but the warmth in Vernon’s gaze made her feel like maybe she could let down her guard, just a little.

“It’s nothing major,” she said finally. “Just people being complicated.”

Vernon nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah, people tend to be good at that.”

They shared a small, knowing laugh, and for a moment, the tension in her chest eased.

“You know,” Vernon said after a pause, his tone a bit lighter, “if anyone’s giving you a hard time, I’m pretty good at standing there and looking intimidating.”

Y/N laughed, nudging his arm. “You? Intimidating? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so much as raise your voice.”

“Hey, I can be scary when I want to be,” he said, mock-offended. “I’ve got the stoic face down. Watch.”

He straightened up, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes in what he probably thought was a menacing glare. Y/N burst out laughing, almost spilling her drink.

“Wow. Terrifying,” she teased, wiping at her eyes.

“Okay, okay, maybe I’m not scary,” Vernon admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But I’m a good listener. So, you know, if you need to unload I’m here.”

Y/N looked at him, warmth blooming in her chest. Vernon’s sincerity was disarming, a rare kind of comfort she hadn’t realized she needed tonight.

“I’ll take a rain check right now, thank you.” she said softly, meeting his eyes. “That means a lot.”

“Anytime,” he said, clinking his can gently against hers.

Before the moment could stretch further, a loud burst of laughter from the living room pulled their attention. Y/N glanced toward the noise, catching sight of Seungcheol leaning against the far wall, his eyes already on her. The flicker of something unspoken in his gaze made her chest tighten again, but she quickly looked away, pretending not to notice.

Vernon must have seen it, too, because his expression shifted slightly, a knowing edge creeping into his otherwise calm demeanor. “Complicated people, huh?” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Y/N groaned, resting her forehead against her palm. “Don’t remind me.”

“Well, if they get too complicated,” Vernon said with a small shrug, “just say the word, and I’ll swoop in. Nice and simple.”

Y/N laughed, feeling the tension ease again, even if just for a moment. “You’re the best, Vern.”

“Don’t forget it, get back to keeping the peace, I’ll find you in a bit. I have to go brag to Wonwoo about a level I beat in this game we’re both playing. ” he said, smiling as he stepped aside to let her head back toward the party.

But as she made her way back into the crowded living room, Seungcheol’s gaze followed her every move, his grip on his drink tightening.

Y/N slipped back into the living room, the din of laughter and conversation washing over her like a wave. She clutched her drink a little tighter, scanning the room for Yuqi or Seungkwan, anyone who could ground her in the moment. But instead, her gaze caught on Seungcheol—still leaning against the wall, still watching her.

She felt her stomach twist uncomfortably. His expression wasn’t sharp or angry, but it held something else, something heavy, like he was trying to convey a message she couldn’t quite decipher. Y/N quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the makeshift dance floor where Hoshi was dramatically showing off his moves, earning cheers and groans of laughter.

“You’re back,” Yuqi said, suddenly appearing beside her with a fresh drink in hand. “I was starting to think you’d bailed on me.”

“Needed a drink,” Y/N replied, smiling faintly.

Yuqi sipped her drink, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced toward Seungcheol. “And let me guess… that moment was interrupted by you-know-who?”

Y/N gave her a look. “I wasn’t thinking about him.”

Yuqi snorted. “Sure. And I wasn’t just watching him watch you like his life depends on it.”

“Yuqi—“

“I’m just saying,” she cut in, holding up a hand, “you can ignore it all you want, but something is going on there. And if you don’t figure it out soon, the tension in this room is going to swallow us all whole.”

Before Y/N could respond, Vernon sidled up next to them, his easy smile helping to diffuse some of the weight in the air. “Am I interrupting some secret girl talk?”

“Always, Idiot.”  Yuqi said, smirking.

“Good,” Vernon said, sliding an arm around Y/N’s shoulders in a friendly gesture. “Because I think Y/N needs a break from whatever you were grilling her about.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, grateful for the distraction. “Thank you, Vernon. Finally, someone’s on my side.”

“Always,” he replied, giving her a quick squeeze before letting go. “Now, what’s the plan? Are we dancing, or are we rescuing Hoshi from himself?”

“I vote dancing,” Yuqi said, already moving toward the music.

“You coming?” Vernon asked Y/N, his expression open and warm, hand held out to drag her along with them.

She hesitated, glancing back toward the wall where Seungcheol had been standing—but he wasn’t there anymore. Her chest tightened, unsure if she felt relieved or disappointed.

“Yeah,” she said finally, taking Vernon’s cold hand in hers, forcing a smile. “Let’s dance.”

The three of them joined the group on the dance floor, Yuqi pulling Hoshi into a ridiculous choreographed move while Vernon and Y/N laughed from the sidelines. For a brief moment, Y/N allowed herself to get swept up in the energy, the music, and the comfort of her friends.

But as the night stretched on, she couldn’t shake the feeling of Seungcheol’s eyes on her, even when he wasn’t in the room.

Seungcheol stood in the kitchen, gripping his drink tighter than necessary as he watched Y/N move through the living room with Yuqi and Vernon. His gaze lingered, though he tried to keep his expression neutral, uninterested—anything but the turmoil he actually felt.

She was laughing now, her head tilted back slightly as Vernon said something that made her smile. The sight made Seungcheol’s chest ache in a way he hated. It was easier when she wasn’t around, when he could pretend he didn’t care, that their shared past didn’t matter anymore. But here, in the same room, it was impossible to ignore.

His thoughts kept circling back to earlier in the night, during the game. When she’d walked in and asked him to make her a drink, her attempt at easing the tension between them had felt so transparent. And yet, he hadn’t known how to respond. He couldn’t shake the way she’d looked at him—like she was trying to bridge a gap that neither of them fully understood.

And then there was Mingyu. Seungcheol clenched his jaw at the memory of the arm-wrestling match, the way Mingyu’s easy confidence grated on him. He didn’t blame Mingyu for looking out for Y/N—hell, he admired it, in a way—but there was something about it that made his blood simmer. Maybe it was how obvious Mingyu’s feelings were, or maybe it was the way Y/N seemed to trust him so effortlessly, in a way she hadn’t trusted Seungcheol in years.

He leaned against the counter, taking a long sip of his drink as he replayed everything in his mind. The unresolved tension from their teenage years, the secret friendship they’d rebuilt in recent months, the way she looked at him tonight—like she was both wary and curious. It was maddening.

“Are you just going to stand here all night?”

Seungcheol turned to find Seungkwan leaning in the doorway, a knowing look on his face.

“Not in the mood to socialize,” Seungcheol said flatly, though the edge in his voice made Seungkwan raise an eyebrow.

“Uh-huh. And that has nothing to do with Y/N?” Seungkwan asked, crossing his arms.

Seungcheol shot him a look. “Drop it.”

“I’m just saying,” Seungkwan said, stepping closer, “you’re not exactly subtle, Cheol. If you don’t want people to notice, maybe stop glaring at Vernon every time he talks to her.”

“I’m not glaring,” Seungcheol muttered, though he knew it wasn’t entirely true.

Seungkwan sighed, leaning against the counter beside him. “Look, I get it. You’ve got history, and you’re trying to make things right. But maybe tonight isn’t the night to hash it out. She looks overwhelmed, you know?”

Seungcheol exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. He hated how well Seungkwan could read him, but he couldn’t argue with the truth of it. Y/N did look overwhelmed—like she was carrying the weight of something bigger than anyone in the room realized.

“I don’t want to make things worse,” Seungcheol admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t,” Seungkwan said simply. “Just be there for her. Without the drama. Without the tension.”

Seungcheol nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure how to do that. He glanced back toward the living room, where Y/N was now dancing with Vernon and Yuqi, her laughter ringing out above the music.

He couldn’t help but think about the last time they’d danced together, years ago, before everything fell apart. Before he betrayed her trust.

For now, all he could do was watch from a distance, hoping that one day, she might see him as someone worth trusting again.

Y/N laughed as Yuqi spun her dramatically in time to the music, nearly sending them both stumbling into the couch. Vernon caught her arm to steady her, his calm energy a welcome contrast to Yuqi’s chaotic antics.

“Careful,” Vernon teased. “I’m not dragging anyone home tonight if you sprain something.”

“I’m fine.” Y/N insisted, laughing as she straightened up. Her cheeks were flushed, a mix of the alcohol and the growing heat in the room.

Still, her smile faltered when she caught Seungcheol’s figure lingering in the kitchen doorway, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t looking at her now—his gaze was fixed on the drink in his hand—but his presence alone made her chest tighten.

She hated how easily he could unsettle her. No matter how much time passed, no matter how many layers of their friendship they rebuilt in secret, there was always that lingering sense of something unresolved.

“Earth to Y/N.”

Yuqi’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Y/N turned to find her friend giving her a pointed look, holding out a fresh drink.

“Where’d you just go?” Yuqi asked, pressing the cup into her hand.

“Nowhere,” Y/N said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just zoning out.”

Yuqi’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she let it slide, gesturing toward the small dance floor. “Come on, you can’t check out now. Hoshi’s about to break out his signature move.”

Y/N laughed and allowed herself to be pulled back into the fray, her body moving automatically to the beat of the music. But even as she danced, her thoughts kept drifting back to Seungcheol.

Was he mad at her? She couldn’t tell anymore. Every interaction between them felt like a puzzle, one she wasn’t sure she was equipped to solve. And then there was Mingyu—always so present, so protective. It was overwhelming, trying to navigate everyone’s emotions while also managing her own.

At one point, she stepped away from the group to catch her breath, retreating to the edge of the room where it was quieter. She took a sip of her drink, her eyes scanning the party.

Seungcheol was still in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with Seungkwan by his side. Mingyu, meanwhile, was talking animatedly with Hoshi and a few others near the couch. Both of them were so different in their energy, yet both had this gravitational pull that she couldn’t quite escape.

“You okay?”

The familiar voice made her turn. Vernon stood beside her, his expression calm and curious.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, nodding quickly. “Just needed a minute.”

“Fair enough,” he said, sipping his beer. “You’ve got that look, though.”

“What look?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The ‘I’m overthinking everything’ look.”

Y/N sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. “Am I that obvious?”

“Not to everyone,” Vernon said with a small smile. “But I can tell.” 

Y/n just blinked at him, studying the look on his face. “Cover for me while I sneak away for a minute?” 

“I’ve done worse for you. Where are you escaping to now?” 

Y/n just smirked and patted him on the shoulder. “If you know me so well you’ll know where to find me, you have to wait five minutes, we will see if you pass.” 

Vernon watched her slip through the crowd, his curiosity piqued. He didn’t bother following her immediately—he knew Y/N well enough to recognize when she needed space. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t check on her.

After waiting the full five minutes (and a little longer just to be safe), he grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and slipped out of the apartment. It didn’t take long to figure out where she’d gone.

The crisp night air hit him as he stepped onto the rooftop. The faint smell of weed greeted him before he spotted her, sitting cross-legged on a bench with her hood pulled up, a joint in one hand and her gaze fixed on the stars above.

“You really didn’t make this hard to figure out,” Vernon said, announcing his presence as he walked closer.

Y/N looked over her shoulder, exhaling a soft cloud of smoke. “I wasn’t trying to. I just needed to breathe.”

Vernon sat down on the bench beside her, leaving enough space to give her the room she clearly needed. He didn’t say anything at first, simply tilting his head back to look up at the sky.

“It’s cold as hell up here,” he finally said, his breath visible in the air.

“That’s the point,” Y/N replied, holding the joint out to him. “Want some?”

He hesitated for a moment before taking it, bringing it to his lips for a quick drag. The smoke burned his throat slightly, but it wasn’t unpleasant. “So, what’s the escape this time?”

Y/N shrugged, pulling her hood tighter around her face. “Too many people. Too many things.”

“Things,” Vernon repeated, handing the joint back to her. “That’s specific.”

She gave him a look but didn’t elaborate. Instead, she took another hit, the glowing tip of the joint briefly illuminating her face. Her eyes seemed heavier than usual, like she was carrying something she couldn’t quite name.

“Was it the whispering of Seunkwan wanting to be a drama queen and play truth or drink?” Vernon asked gently.

Y/N exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl upward. “Part of it, maybe. But honestly, I think it was always going to hit me tonight. Doesn’t really matter what started it.”

Vernon nodded, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. “Want to talk about it, or are we just stargazing?”

“Stargazing sounds safer,” she said, though the corner of her mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smile.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the muffled hum of the party below them barely reaching the rooftop.

“You’re really good at disappearing,” Vernon said after a while, his tone light but not teasing.

Y/N glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re here, but it feels like you’re not. Like… your body’s sitting on this bench, but your mind’s off somewhere else, doing a million calculations.”

She didn’t respond right away, her gaze drifting back to the sky. “Maybe that’s because it’s easier. Being present is… messy.”

“Life’s messy,” Vernon said, his voice soft. “But you’re allowed to exist in it. You know that, right?”

Y/N’s throat tightened, but she nodded, her fingers toying with the edge of her sleeve. “It’s just complicated. With everyone. And I don’t know how to balance it all without screwing something up.”

Vernon watched her carefully, his expression thoughtful. “You don’t have to balance it all perfectly. You just have to do what feels right for you. The rest will figure itself out.”

She let his words sink in, the warmth of them surprising her. Vernon had a way of making things feel simple, even when they weren’t.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, offering him the joint one last time.

“Anytime,” he replied, taking it with a small smile.

As the cold air bit at their skin, Y/N found herself relaxing, the weight in her chest lifting ever so slightly. For the first time that night, she felt like she could breathe.

“Think they’ll notice I’m gone?” she asked after a while.

“Probably,” Vernon said with a shrug. “But I’ll cover for you, remember?”

Y/N smiled, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t forget it,” Vernon said, grinning.

Y/N leaned back on the bench, stretching her legs out in front of her. The cold nipped at her fingers, but the warmth from the joint and the comfort of Vernon’s presence balanced it out. She handed the joint back to him, watching as he took a slow drag, his eyes squinting slightly against the bite of the chill.

“You know,” Vernon began, his voice low and steady, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you just sit like this before. Not running around or worrying about someone. Just here.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “What, like I’m incapable of sitting still?”

“Not incapable,” he said, smiling faintly. “Just rare. You’re always trying to fix something, or make someone else comfortable. It’s nice to see you actually breathe for once.”

Y/N turned her gaze back to the stars, the quiet sincerity in his words catching her off guard. “Guess it’s easier to breathe up here,” she admitted. “No expectations, no noise.”

“No Mingyu, No Seungcheol,” Vernon added, his voice teasing but laced with something heavier.

Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t look at him. “Yeah. That too.”

Vernon sighed, leaning back on the bench beside her. “I wasn’t trying to pry. Just saying. You seem like you’ve got a lot going on.”

“That’s one way to put it,” she muttered, exhaling a puff of air that mingled with the smoke curling into the night sky.

They sat in silence for a moment before Vernon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know, whatever you’re carrying, you don’t have to do it alone. People care about you, Y/N. You can lean on us.”

She glanced at him, his profile illuminated softly by the glow of the city lights. “Do you ever think leaning on people just makes things messier?”

“Sometimes,” Vernon admitted. “But I’d rather deal with the mess than pretend it doesn’t exist.”

His words hung in the air, heavier than the smoke swirling around them. Y/N wanted to say something, to thank him or deflect with a joke, but her throat felt tight. Instead, she reached out and lightly bumped her hand against his, a small gesture that said more than words could in the moment.

Vernon glanced at their hands and then at her, his expression soft but steady. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight, you know,” he said quietly. “Or even tomorrow. Just don’t shut people out. Especially the ones who care about you. Me, Yuqi, Kwan, Soony, you know the list, but. ”

Y/N smiled faintly, her lips curling up just enough to show she appreciated his words. “You’re kind of annoyingly wise for someone who usually refuses to get involved in drama.”

He chuckled, leaning back against the bench again. “That’s because I’ve got the best seat in the house. Watching from the sidelines keeps me out of trouble, but it also means I see a lot of things people don’t notice about themselves.”

“Like what?” she asked, turning her head to look at him.

“Like you,” he said simply. “You’re always putting everyone else first. You try so hard to make peace or keep the balance, but you don’t let anyone do the same for you. It’s like you’re afraid to ask for anything because you think you’ll tip the scales.”

His words struck a chord deep inside her, leaving her momentarily speechless. It was rare for someone to call her out so directly, and even rarer for it to come from someone as laid-back as Vernon.

She let out a shaky laugh, more to ease the weight in her chest than anything else. “Guess I’m not as subtle as I thought.”

“Not to me, anyway,” Vernon said, giving her a warm, knowing smile.

They sat in comfortable silence for a little while longer, the joint burning down to its last embers between them. The cold air seemed to sharpen everything—the stars above, the distant hum of the city, the steady presence of Vernon beside her.

Eventually, Vernon stood, brushing his hands on his jeans. “Alright, I should probably get back before Yuqi starts a search party. Are you good up here?”

Y/N nodded, her smile soft but genuine. “Yeah. Thanks for escaping with me.”

“Anytime,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “Don’t stay out here too long, though. It’s freezing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving him off.

As he walked away, she leaned back against the bench, staring up at the stars again. The rooftop felt quieter without him, the air heavier with her thoughts. But for the first time in what felt like hours, she didn’t feel completely alone.

She closed her eyes, letting the cold air bite at her cheeks and the quiet settled around her. Maybe Vernon was right—maybe she didn’t have to figure everything out tonight. For now, she could just exist.

When she opened her eyes again, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching the faint mist of her breath disappear into the night.

“One step at a time,” she whispered to herself, the words more of a promise than a resolution.

Y/N stood from the bench, brushing off the frost that had collected on her jacket. The cold had seeped through her layers, leaving her fingers numb and her cheeks tingling, but it also cleared her mind in a way the rooftop always seemed to. She took a final look at the stars, exhaling deeply, before heading toward the door.

The hum of the party grew louder as she descended the stairs, the muffled bass of the music vibrating through the walls. By the time she reached the door to Seungcheol and Seungkwan’s apartment, her body had adjusted to the warmth seeping out into the hallway. She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the doorknob.

The party inside was still alive and chaotic. She could hear laughter, the clinking of glasses, and Yuqi’s unmistakable voice cheering someone on. She steeled herself, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

As she slipped back inside, the heat and noise enveloped her like a wave. Her eyes scanned the room, noting the various clusters of people still mingling, dancing, and drinking. Vernon had returned to his usual quiet spot near the couch, looking up when she entered and giving her a small nod. She smiled back faintly, silently thanking him for earlier.

“Y/N!” Yuqi’s voice pierced through the crowd as she bounded over, a drink in hand and an exaggerated pout on her lips. “Where were you? I thought you got kidnapped or something!”

“Just needed some air,” Y/N said, dodging the hug Yuqi attempted to throw around her.

“Air?” Yuqi repeated, narrowing her eyes playfully. “You’ve been gone for, like, a year.”

“Ten minutes,” Vernon corrected from across the room, raising his beer.

“Felt like longer,” Yuqi grumbled before thrusting the drink into Y/N’s hand. “Here, bitch, you’re behind. Catch up!”

Y/N took the cup, pretending to sip from it as her eyes scanned the room. She couldn’t help but notice Seungcheol standing near the kitchen, his arms crossed as he talked to Seungkwan and Hoshi. He wasn’t laughing, but there was a soft smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Mingyu, meanwhile, was in the center of the room, animatedly telling a story to a group of people who seemed completely entranced. His gaze flitted over to her briefly, but his expression remained unreadable before he returned to his audience.

“Y/N, come on!” Yuqi tugged at her arm, pulling her toward the group gathered near the couch. “We’re playing some games—someone said the charades last time were rigged.”

“Yuqi, I just—”

“No excuses.” Yuqi declared, plopping her down on the couch next to Vernon, who looked amused but didn’t say anything.

As the game began again, Y/N found herself slipping into the rhythm of the party, though her thoughts were never far from the two men who seemed to loom like shadows over her evening. Every laugh, every drink, every fleeting glance across the room felt charged with an undercurrent of something she couldn’t quite name.

Eventually, she leaned toward Vernon and muttered, “Remind me again why I didn’t just stay on the roof?”

He smirked, his voice low. “Because you’re not the kind of person who disappears when things get messy.”

She sighed, slumping back against the couch. “I wish I was.”

For now, though, she decided to stay seated, letting the party swirl around her while she gathered the strength to face whatever unresolved tension the night still held.

“Y/N, come on.” Yuqi tugged at her arm, pulling her toward the group gathered near the couch. “We’re about to start the truth or dare—but with a twist! If you don’t want to answer or do the dare, you drink.”

Y/N hesitated, her grip tightening slightly on the cup in her hand. “Truth or dare? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” Yuqi said, grinning mischievously. “It’s the perfect way to spice things up. Seungkwan’s already set the rules, and people are starting to get brave.”

“No excuses!” Yuqi declared, practically shoving Y/N down on the couch next to Vernon, who looked amused but not at all surprised by Yuqi’s antics.

Y/N leaned toward him and muttered, “You’re supposed to be my escape plan. Why are you letting this happen?”

Vernon smirked, leaning back lazily. “You’ll survive. Besides, it’ll be fun to watch.”

The circle was a mix of familiar faces—Seungkwan, Hoshi, Mingyu, Yuqi—and a few others Y/N didn’t know as well. Seungcheol sat on the opposite side of the circle, his arms resting casually on his knees, but his gaze flicked to Y/N for a split second before looking away.

“Alright, rules are simple,” Seungkwan said, taking charge as usual. “Truth or dare. If you don’t want to answer or do the dare, you drink. No whining, no excuses.”

The game started lightheartedly, with Hoshi doing a ridiculous dance on a dare and one of Yuqi’s friends admitting to an embarrassing crush from years ago. The laughter eased Y/N into the mood, though her attention kept drifting between Mingyu, who was sitting a little too close to her, and Seungcheol, who seemed oddly quiet.

“Alright, Y/N,” Seungkwan said, his eyes gleaming as the bottle spun and landed on her. “Truth or dare?”

She hesitated, the weight of everyone’s attention pressing on her. “Truth.”

“Boring,” Yuqi teased, earning a laugh from the group.

Seungkwan ignored her and leaned forward, his grin wicked. “Who in this room do you think is the most attractive?”

Y/N’s cheeks burned as the group erupted in playful cheers and groans. Her eyes darted around the circle—Mingyu smirking confidently, Seungcheol looking down at his drink, Vernon raising an eyebrow like he was waiting to hear something interesting.

“Not answering that,” Y/N said quickly, lifting her cup and taking a long sip to the chorus of boos and laughter.

The game moved on, but the tension hung thick in the air, especially when the bottle eventually pointed to Mingyu.

“Dare,” he said, his voice firm, as if he was trying to prove a point.

Yuqi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Alright, I dare you to kiss the person you’re most interested in right now.”

A hush fell over the group, the room suddenly feeling smaller. Mingyu’s eyes flicked to Y/N, and for a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

“I’ll drink,” Mingyu said abruptly, lifting his cup to his lips.

“No, come on, do it. Don’t be a pussy, Gyu.” Yuqi taunted him, Seunkwan joining in gesturing beside her and it was enough to make Mingyu stand up and hover over everyone who was sitting down, but he suddenly got scared and downed his drink and ran quickly to the bar to refill another one. 

By the time he got back Seungkwan was already spinning the bottle to put another victim on the spot. 

“Truth or dare?” Seungkwan asked.

“Truth,” Seungcheol said, his voice steady but low.

“Alright,” Seungkwan said, leaning forward. “What’s something you’ve done recently that you regret?”

The question felt loaded, and the room seemed to sense it. Seungcheol’s jaw tightened as he thought, his eyes briefly flickering to Y/N before settling on his drink.

“I regret not saying what I should’ve said sooner,” he answered cryptically, taking a sip of his drink despite not needing to.

Y/N’s heart pounded, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest.

The circle had grown quieter, the earlier lighthearted mood replaced with something heavier. Sensing the awkwardness, Vernon leaned over to Y/N and murmured, “This game’s going downhill fast.”

She nodded, her mind too clouded with thoughts to respond. The next spin of the bottle felt irrelevant, her focus locked on the tension simmering between Seungcheol and Mingyu across the circle.

As the game moved on, the energy in the room shifted, but Yuqi wasn’t ready to let Mingyu off the hook so easily. She nudged him with a wicked grin.

“Come on, Mingyu,” Yuqi teased. “That was such a fucking cop-out. I dare you to actually follow through. What are you so scared of?”

Mingyu leaned back, smirking at her but clearly feeling the pressure. “I’m not scared,” he shot back.

“Then prove it.” Yuqi challenged, earning cheers and laughter from the group.

The room fell silent as Mingyu’s gaze flickered toward Y/N, who froze under his stare. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, the tension mounting with every passing second.

“Mingyu,” she started, her voice barely audible, but before she could finish, he leaned forward.

“I mean, a dare is a dare, right?” he said, his voice teasing but his eyes serious as they locked on hers.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t rushed or hesitant—Mingyu leaned in with a confidence that made Y/N’s breath hitch. His hand lightly brushed her cheek, his lips soft but firm against hers. For a moment, the rest of the room seemed to dissolve into nothingness, the cheers and gasps from the group fading into the background.

When he pulled back, the air between them felt charged, like a live wire sparking between them. Y/N blinked, her mind racing to process what had just happened.

“See?” Mingyu said, leaning back with a lopsided grin, though there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Not so scary.”

The room erupted in a mix of whoops and laughter, Yuqi clapping her hands triumphantly. “Finally. That’s what I’m talking about!”

But Y/N wasn’t laughing. Her heart was pounding, and her gaze flickered to Seungcheol. He sat completely still, his jaw tight and his eyes dark as he stared into his drink. The muscle in his jaw ticked as if he was fighting every instinct to react.

The weight of the moment crashed down on Y/N, her chest tightening. Mingyu’s kiss, Seungcheol’s reaction, the eyes of everyone in the room—it was too much.

“I need a drink,” she muttered, pushing herself up from the couch and heading toward the kitchen, her legs unsteady beneath her.

Behind her, she heard Yuqi say something to Mingyu, teasing him again, but Y/N couldn’t focus. Her mind was spinning, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

In the kitchen, she gripped the edge of the counter, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The moment replayed in her head, over and over, until she felt a presence behind her.

“You okay?” Vernon’s voice was soft, grounding her.

She turned to see him standing there, his usual calm expression slightly concerned.

“Not really,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Vernon handed her a fresh drink without a word, and she accepted it gratefully.

“You know,” he said after a moment, “Mingyu’s always been bold, but that? That was something else.”

Y/N let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“And Seungcheol…” Vernon trailed off, his eyes flickering toward the living room where the tension was still thick.

“Don’t, please,” Y/N said quickly, cutting him off. “I can’t think about that right now.”

He nodded like he’d expected her answer and stepped further into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter across from her, studying her carefully. “Want to get out of here?”

She blinked at him, startled. “What?”

“You heard me,” Vernon said, his lips curling into a small, reassuring smile. “This party’s a shit show. You look like you need some air, and honestly, so do I. Let’s go to a bar or something. Anywhere but here.”

Y/N stared at him, caught off guard by the offer. “You’d leave? Just like that?”

“Why not?” he shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “Not like I’m missing anything groundbreaking in there. And you seem like you could use a break from whatever the hell that was.”

She hesitated, glancing back toward the living room where laughter and music still spilled through the air. The idea of leaving—of stepping away from all the chaos and tension—sounded more tempting than she wanted to admit.

“I don’t know…” she started, her voice uncertain.

“Y/N,” Vernon cut her off gently, his tone steady. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now. You don’t even have to explain anything to me. But if you want to hit pause on this whole mess, I’m offering you an out.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She didn’t know if it was the kindness in his voice or the simplicity of his offer, but for the first time that night, she felt like she could breathe.

“Okay,” she said finally, nodding.

“Yeah?” he asked, his smile widening slightly.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Vernon straightened up, holding out his hand. “First round’s on me.”

She let out a soft laugh, slipping her hand into his. As they walked out of the kitchen together, Y/N didn’t bother looking back at the party. For now, the tension and confusion could wait. All she wanted was a moment of peace, and Vernon seemed like exactly the person to give her that.

The cold air seemed to lift some of the heaviness in Y/N’s chest as she and Vernon walked down the street. They didn’t talk much at first, their footsteps echoing softly on the pavement. But it wasn’t awkward—just easy, like it always was with him.

Vernon walked a little ahead, hands in his jacket pockets, his calm presence making the silence feel almost comforting. When he noticed her shivering, he stopped, pulled off his jacket, and handed it to her without a word.

“You really don’t have to,” she started, shaking her head.

“Just take it,” he interrupted, his tone casual. “It’s cold, and you’ll end up catching something.”

She hesitated for a second before slipping it on. His jacket was warm and smelled faintly like cedarwood and something unmistakably Vernon. She glanced over at him with a small smile. “Fine. Thanks.”

“No problem,” he replied, his lips curling into the smallest smile.

The two continued walking, their pace unhurried. The neon lights of the city reflected off the damp streets, and Y/N felt the tightness in her chest start to ease with every step.

“So,” she said after a moment, “do you make a habit of sneaking off with people at parties, or am I just lucky?”

“You’re lucky,” Vernon replied with a smirk, his voice light. “But don’t let it get to your head.”

She laughed softly, shoving her hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Noted.”

When they reached the corner, waiting for the light to change, Y/N glanced over at him, her curiosity bubbling to the surface. “Why’d you ask me to leave with you?”

He looked over, his expression as calm as ever. “You looked like you needed it.”

“And you?” she pressed, tilting her head slightly.

Vernon shrugged, his gaze flicking back to the crosswalk. “I didn’t really feel like being there either. Figured we could both use the escape.”

She studied him for a moment, something warm blooming in her chest. Vernon had always been like this—quiet, observant, and impossibly kind in the moments she needed it most.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

He turned to her, his brow furrowing slightly. “For what?”

“For knowing when I need a break and for never asking too many questions,” she admitted, the corner of her mouth tugging up.

He smiled at that, the kind of smile that reached his eyes. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I just get it, you know? I’ve known you long enough to be able to tell.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a strange mix of comfort and vulnerability in his presence. She looked down at the pavement, letting his words sink in as the light changed and they crossed the street.

When they reached the bar, Vernon held the door open for her like he always did—small, easy gestures that never felt forced or out of place. The warmth inside hit her immediately, the quiet hum of conversation and clinking glasses a stark contrast to the chaos of the party.

They found a small table in the corner, and Y/N slipped out of his jacket, draping it over the back of her chair. She watched as Vernon flagged down a server and ordered a beer for himself before gesturing for her to order whatever she wanted.

“You feeling better?” he asked once the drinks arrived, his tone light but with a hint of concern.

She nodded, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah. This is perfect. More my speed, you know?”

“Good, me too.” he said simply, leaning back in his chair.

There was a moment of quiet as they both sipped their drinks, the ease between them so familiar it felt like muscle memory. Y/N glanced at him, the warm light of the bar softening his features.

“You know,” she started, her voice quiet, “we don’t do this enough.”

“What, escape from parties together?” he teased, his lips quivering into a small smile.

“No,” she said, rolling her eyes but smiling anyway. “Just get to hang out. You and me.”

Vernon looked at her, his gaze steady and unreadable for a moment before softening. “Yeah. We should fix that.”

Her heart fluttered in a way she tried to ignore, and she nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, we should.”

As the night wore on and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, the unspoken feelings between them lingered, warm and subtle, like an old song neither of them was ready to sing just yet.

As Y/N sat at the small table across from Vernon, her phone buzzed relentlessly in her pocket. She hesitated for a moment before pulling it out, glancing at the screen. The group chat with Yuqi, Seungkwan, and Mingyu was lighting up.

Yuqi: Where the hell are you? Seungkwan: You disappeared and took Vernon with you?? Yuqi: Don’t make me come find you. Mingyu: Y/N, answer us.

She sighed, her thumb hovering over the screen to type back, but Vernon’s calm voice broke through her thoughts.

“Don’t,” he said softly, his gaze steady on her.

She looked up at him, a bit startled. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t answer,” Vernon replied, leaning back in his chair. “Just for tonight, let it go. They’ll survive without you for a few hours.”

Y/N frowned, her phone still buzzing in her hand. “But they’re probably worried, and Yuqi will never let me hear the end of it if I don’t—”

“They’ll be fine,” he said, cutting her off gently but firmly. “You’re not obligated to explain yourself every second of the day. If you want to talk to them later, that’s fine, but for now? Just be here.”

His tone was calm, but there was something grounding about it that made her pause. She looked at her phone again, the screen still lighting up with new messages. Slowly, she locked it and slid it back into her pocket.

“Better?” Vernon asked, his lips curving into a small smile.

“Better,” she admitted, leaning her elbows on the table.

He raised his glass, gesturing slightly toward her. “Good. Because you deserve a break too, Y/N.”

She studied him for a moment, her chest tightening with something she couldn’t quite name. He always seemed to know what she needed before she did, always so steady and sure in a way that made her feel lighter, like the weight she carried didn’t have to be all hers.

“Thanks,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head, his expression curious. “For what?”

“For this,” she said, gesturing vaguely to the space around them. “For being you, I guess.”

Vernon let out a soft laugh, his cheeks flushing slightly under the warm light of the bar. “Don’t get all sentimental on me now. And stop thanking me for everything.”

She grinned, her tension easing as the moment lightened. “Fine. You’re the fucking worst. Better?”

“Much,” he said with a smirk, raising his glass again.

They clinked their drinks together, the moment settling between them like an unspoken truce, a quiet escape from everything they’d left behind at the party. For the first time that night, Y/N let herself relax, the noise of her phone and the chaos of her thoughts fading into the background.

As Vernon took a sip of his beer, Y/N leaned back in her chair, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. The bar hummed softly with the sound of laughter and quiet conversations, but their little corner felt secluded, as if the world had momentarily forgotten about them.

“So,” Vernon said, breaking the silence, “how’s it going with  everything?”

Y/N blinked at him, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a loaded question.”

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Figured I’d rip the Band-Aid off.”

She sighed, slumping slightly in her seat. “It’s been a lot to say the least. Mingyu and Seungcheol are driving me fucking insane, Yuqi’s trying to play referee, and I feel like I’m stuck in the middle of a reality show I didn’t sign up for.”

Vernon raised an eyebrow, resting his chin on his hand. “And what about you? How do you feel about all of it?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers stilling on the glass. “Honestly? I feel like I’m just there. Like I’m the thing they’re both fighting over, but no one’s asking me what I want. And it’s not like I’ve given them any reason to think there’s anything to fight over. I constantly tell everyone I’m not interested in dating, but they cant seem to let it fucking go.”

“That sounds exhausting,” Vernon said quietly, his gaze steady on her.

“It is,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s not like I can just shut them out. They’re my friends.”

Vernon was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “You know, you don’t have to fix everything for everyone else. You’re allowed to set boundaries, even with your friends.”

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “You sound like you’ve had some practice with this.”

“Med school’s good for teaching you to prioritize,” he said with a small laugh. “If I didn’t learn how to say no, I’d have burned out by now.”

She smiled faintly, her heart twisting a little. “How is med school, by the way? You never really talk about it.”

“It’s intense, of course,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s what I’ve always wanted, you know? It’s worth the late nights and early mornings. Even if it means I’m not around as much.”

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening. “We miss you, you know. I miss you.”

Vernon’s gaze softened, and he leaned forward slightly. “I miss you too. I hate that I’ve been so busy, but it’s not because I don’t care. You’re important to me, Y/N. Always have been.”

Her breath caught for a moment, but she quickly masked it with a small smile. “I know. You’re important to me too, Vernon. That’s why it sucks not having you around to balance out all the chaos.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know how much balance I bring, but I’ll take the compliment.”

Y/N leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand. “You bring a lot more than you realize. And honestly, I’m just glad you dragged me out of there tonight. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be fine, but you’d have to learn some better exit strategies on your own.” he said gently, though there was something in his voice that suggested he didn’t entirely believe it.

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “But I’d rather not find out.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, the weight of their words lingering between them. Y/N glanced down at her drink, her thoughts swirling.

“Have you ever thought about how weird it is?” she asked suddenly, her voice quiet.

Vernon frowned slightly. “What’s weird?”

“How we’ve always just clicked,” she said, looking up at him. “Even when we don’t see each other for months, it’s like nothing’s changed.”

He smiled faintly, his gaze warm. “That’s how it is with the people who matter. Time doesn’t change it.”

Y/N’s chest tightened again, and she looked away, the warmth of his words settling over her like a blanket. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Maybe it is,” Vernon said softly. “At least with us.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she just nodded, her mind swirling with unspoken thoughts.

After a moment, Vernon reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers briefly before he pulled back. “Let’s make a deal. No more drama tonight. Just this—quiet, no stress. Deal?”

Y/N smiled, her chest feeling a little lighter. “Deal.”

Vernon tilted his head back, taking a long sip of his beer before setting the bottle down on the table. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the edge, his signature calm expression lighting up with curiosity.

“Okay,” he said, his voice teasing but warm. “I’ve got a question for you.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow, swirling her straw around her drink. “What kind of question?”

“A burning question,” he replied with a grin. “One I’ve been dying to ask you all night.”

She smirked, leaning forward to match his energy. “Alright, hit me.”

“What,” Vernon began, pausing dramatically, “was going through your head when Mingyu kissed you earlier?”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink, and Vernon’s laugh echoed through the small bar. “Oh, come the fuck on,” she said, laughing despite herself. “You’re really starting with that?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his grin widening. “You can’t drop that on me and not expect me to be curious.”

Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Honestly? I didn’t even process it at first. It just happened so fast. And then I was so focused on the fact that everyone was watching that I couldn’t even think about how I felt.”

“Uh-huh,” Vernon said, nodding as if taking notes. “And now that you’ve had some time to think about it?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t know. Mingyu’s... Mingyu. He’s sweet, but it’s just more complicated, you know? I wouldn’t want to lose his friendship for a relationship that may not work out for whatever reason.”

Vernon’s gaze softened, and he nodded. “Yeah, I get that.” Vernon leaned back in his chair, his beer bottle spinning lazily between his fingers. “Alright, your turn. What was your real first impression of me?”

Y/N smirked, raising an eyebrow as she sipped her drink. “You mean besides the fact that our moms completely embarrassed us at summer camp?”

Vernon groaned, covering his face with one hand. “Oh god, I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”

“Forgotten? Are you fucking kidding me?” Y/N said, laughing as she leaned forward. “Your mom practically shoved you in front of me and said, ‘This is Vernon. He’s shy, but he’s very friendly once you get to know him.’”

“And then your mom jumped in and said, ‘Y/N loves making friends, don’t you, sweetheart?’” Vernon added, cringing at the memory.

Y/N nodded, her laugh ringing out. “I swear, I wanted to sink into the ground right then and there. But you—” She pointed at him, a teasing smile on her lips. “You just stood there with this blank look on your face like, ‘Is this really happening right now?’”

“I didn’t know what to say!” Vernon protested, laughing along with her. “What was I supposed to do? Our moms basically ambushed us.”

“You could’ve said something,” Y/N teased. “Instead, you just shrugged and said, ‘Cool.’”

“Hey, at least I wasn’t the one who tripped over my own flip-flops five minutes later,” Vernon shot back, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Y/N gasped, feigning offense. “That was one time! And I was distracted because someone wouldn’t stop staring at the ground instead of making eye contact!”

Vernon laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, fine. But seriously, what did you think of me back then?”

Y/N thought for a moment, her smile softening. “Honestly? I thought you were  kind of intimidating at first. You were so quiet and had that ‘too cool for everyone here’ vibe going on. I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to be friends.”

Vernon raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. “Me? Intimidating? I was the most awkward eight-year-old in the world.”

“You hid it well,” Y/N said with a grin. “But then, after a day of being forced to hang out because of our moms, I realized you were just as awkward as me. And I don’t know if you made me feel like I didn’t have to try so hard to fit in.”

Vernon’s smile softened, and he looked down at his beer. “You know, I felt the same way about you. I thought you were the cool one, though.”

Y/N snorted, nearly choking on her drink. “Me? Cool? Vernon, I fell in the lake trying to get a canoe off the dock on the first day.”

“Yeah, but you laughed about it,” Vernon said, his voice quiet but sure. “I think that’s when I realized you were different. Everyone else was always trying so hard, but you were just you.”

Y/N blinked at him, her chest tightening at his words. She tried to shake it off with a laugh, but the warmth in his eyes lingered in her mind. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing our moms embarrassed us that day. Otherwise, I might never have realized how awkward you are.”

“Awkward?” Vernon repeated, feigning offense. “I was charming. Admit it.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Sure, Vernon. Charming.”

As the bartender slid another round of drinks onto the counter, Vernon’s phone began vibrating relentlessly against the wood. He glanced down, and the screen lit up with a flood of notifications.

Group chat messages from Seungkwan, Yuqi, Hoshi, and even Mingyu piled in:

Seungkwan: Where the fucccck are you guys??? Party’s wrapping up, we’re trying to have a group thing before everyone bails.

Yuqi: HELLOOO? Did you two run off and elope or what?

Hoshi: I’m drinking your share of soju if you’re not here in 5 mins.

Mingyu: Vernon, seriously, Y/N okay? People are asking questions.

But what really made Vernon’s stomach drop was the series of pings from an account he recognized as the unofficial “drama page” for their school. The caption of the latest post read:

“Things got steamy at tonight’s party. Who saw the Mingyu/Y/N kiss? 👀🔥”

Below it, there were blurry pictures of the kiss, clearly snapped by someone from across the room, with comments already piling up. Some were playful, others speculative, but a few were outright vicious:

“Y/N really gets around, huh?”

“Mingyu’s so obvious; he’s been into her forever.”

“What does Seungcheol think about all this?”

Vernon locked his phone immediately, sliding it face down on the bar. His jaw tightened slightly as he glanced at Y/N, who was oblivious to the chaos brewing in her absence. She was staring at the neon signs hanging above the bar, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass absentmindedly.

“You okay?” she asked suddenly, catching his gaze.

Vernon’s lips parted for a second as if debating how to respond. Then he smiled, easy and calm. “Yeah, just Seungkwan and Yuqi being their usual dramatic selves.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, chuckling softly. “Let me guess. They’re yelling at us for disappearing?”

“Something like that,” he said, brushing it off casually. He didn’t want to risk her seeing those posts or the inevitable fallout they would bring. Tonight had been peaceful—he wasn’t going to let the drama ruin that.

“You want to head back?” Y/N asked, but there was a hesitance in her voice, like she wasn’t ready to dive back into the chaos just yet.

Vernon shook his head quickly, leaning forward on his elbows. “Nah. Let’s take our time. They’ll survive a little longer without us.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “You’re not worried about them hunting us down and forcefully dragging us back?”

“I mean, they might try,” Vernon said with a small grin. “But honestly? I’m kind of enjoying not dealing with all the noise for a bit. Aren’t you?”

Y/N smiled at that, tilting her head. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s nice to just be, you know?”

“Exactly,” Vernon said, tapping his fingers on the table. He glanced at her half-empty drink and grinned. “Speaking of just being, I think you owe me an answer to my last question.”

“Oh, do I?” Y/N teased, raising her glass to her lips. “And what question would that be?”

“What you actually thought of my mom forcing you to take me as your date to the school dance,” Vernon said, steering the conversation back into lighter territory.

Y/N laughed, falling right into his distraction. As she began recounting yet another embarrassing story about their youthful days, Vernon felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He knew he couldn’t keep her insulated from the fallout forever, but for now, he could give her a little more time away from it all.

He picked up his phone again when she wasn’t looking, quickly typing a response to Seungkwan:

Vernon: We’re fine, just wanted to get away from the noise for a bit.

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he turned his full attention to Y/N, letting her laughter pull him out of his thoughts. For now, this was enough.

As they walked back from the bar, the cold air nipping at their faces, Y/N tugged her jacket tighter around her, her hands buried deep in her pockets. Vernon glanced at her sideways, noticing how her steps slowed the closer they got to the apartment building.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice cutting through the quiet of the nearly empty street.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before letting out a sigh. “I don’t think I want to go back yet.”

Vernon tilted his head, studying her carefully. “Because of the party or everything else?”

“Everything,” she admitted, kicking at a stray pebble on the sidewalk. “I just don’t feel like dealing with everyone’s questions or looks. You know how they all get. And with Mingyu, and Seungcheol, and probably half the party wondering what’s going on with me I just—” She cut herself off, shaking her head. “I don’t want to face it tonight.”

He nodded, his expression calm and understanding. “Fair enough. So, what do you want to do?”

Y/N blinked at him, unsure. “I don’t know? Maybe never go back. Not yet.”

Vernon gave her a small smile. “Alright. Then don’t.”

She looked at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, stopping and turning to face her, “if you don’t want to go back, you don’t have to. You could come to my apartment instead. We’ll hang out, chill, whatever you need to get your mind off things. No pressure.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing toward their building in the distance. The thought of walking back into a room full of friends and unresolved tension made her chest tighten. But Vernon’s suggestion sounded like a much-needed escape.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“Yeah, of course,” he said with a shrug. “My couch is comfier than it looks, and I’ve got snacks. What more could you want?”

A laugh bubbled out of her, easing some of the tension in her chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, here we are,” Vernon replied with a grin. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

Y/N bit her lip, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

They turned onto the path leading to his apartment building, the crisp night air filling the comfortable silence between them. But as they walked, Y/N’s phone vibrated in her pocket, the soft buzz breaking the momentary peace. She pulled it out, her brows furrowing when she saw the notifications.

One was from Mingyu: Mingyu: Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that, especially not in front of everyone. I didn’t mean to make things weird for you. I was just caught up in the moment. 

And the other was from Seungcheol: Seungcheol: You okay? You disappeared. Just checking in.

Y/N stared at the messages, her stomach twisting. She hadn’t even begun to process what Mingyu’s kiss meant, and Seungcheol reaching out only added to the tangled mess of emotions swirling in her chest.

“Everything okay?” Vernon asked, noticing the shift in her expression.

She blinked, quickly locking her phone and shoving it back into her pocket. “It’s nothing. Just people checking in.”

Vernon gave her a knowing look but didn’t press. Instead, he smiled softly and said, “Leave it for now. Let’s unplug for the rest of the night. You can deal with them tomorrow.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers twitching toward her pocket, but eventually, she nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

By the time they reached Vernon’s apartment, the tension in her shoulders had eased slightly. He unlocked the door, gesturing for her to step inside, and she was instantly greeted by the warmth of the space.

“Make yourself at home,” Vernon said, tossing his keys onto the counter. “Want a drink? Tea? Water?”

“Tea sounds nice,” Y/N said, sinking onto the couch.

As Vernon busied himself in the kitchen, Y/N pulled out her phone again, rereading Mingyu’s and Seungcheol’s messages. She didn’t reply, but the weight of them lingered in the back of her mind.

“Here you go,” Vernon said, setting a mug of tea in front of her.

“Thanks,” she murmured, wrapping her hands around the warm cup.

He sat down beside her, glancing at her carefully. “You know, you don’t have to figure it all out tonight. For now, just be here.”

Y/N looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes grounding her in a way she hadn’t expected. “Thanks, Vern. For this. For everything.”

“Anytime,” he said with a small smile.

And for the first time that night, Y/N let herself relax, knowing that at least for the moment, she didn’t have to face the chaos waiting for her outside.

As the night stretched on, Vernon stood up from the couch, stretching his arms with a quiet groan. Y/N was curled up on the other side, her legs tucked beneath her as she stared at the television with no real thoughts. She looked up when she noticed him moving, her eyes flickering to the clock on the wall.

“It’s late,” Vernon said softly, glancing at her. “You should get some sleep.”

“Yeah, probably,” Y/N agreed, setting her phone down.

He motioned toward his room. “You take my bed. I’ll sleep out here.”

Y/N frowned immediately, leaning forward. “Vern, come on. You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re my guest,” he said with a playful shrug. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the couch. That’s, like, hospitality 101.”

“And where’s the part where you’re supposed to let me argue about it?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Not in this house.” He smirked, leaning against the armrest of the couch.

She rolled her eyes but stood, tucking her phone into her pocket. As she moved toward the door to his room, she hesitated, glancing back at him.

“Hey,” she said, her voice softer now.

“Yeah?”

“Would it be weird to ask, or like would you mind if we just, like, shared the bed?” she asked, her tone careful but casual. “You know, like when we were kids and we’d end up squished together in bunk beds on family vacations.”

Vernon blinked, surprised by her suggestion. “Are you sure?”

Y/N shrugged, though there was a slight blush creeping up her neck. “Yeah. I mean,I don’t really feel like being alone tonight.”

His lips curved into a small smile, and he nodded. “Okay. If it makes you feel better, I don’t mind.”

They walked into his room together, the faint warmth of his space instantly wrapping around them. Y/N slipped off her jacket and kicked off her socks, climbing into his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. Vernon followed, staying on his side as he adjusted the pillow behind his head.

“It’s a little comfier than I remember,” Y/N said, settling in.

“Well, you’re not eight years old anymore, so you probably fit better now,” Vernon teased, earning a soft laugh from her.

“True,” she admitted, turning onto her side to face him. “But you still hog all the space.”

“Not my fault you’re tiny,” he countered, grinning.

Y/N smirked, nudging his arm lightly. “I’m not tiny. You’re just a giant.”

They fell into an easy rhythm of light banter, the tension of the evening slowly melting away. As the quiet of the room settled in, Vernon glanced over at her, her profile illuminated faintly by the streetlights outside the window.

“Feel better?” he asked softly.

Y/N nodded, her voice almost a whisper. “Yes. I finally do.”

“Good,” he murmured.

For a moment, neither of them said anything, the quiet between them comfortable and familiar. And just like when they were kids, it didn’t take long for the weight of the day to fade as they drifted into sleep side by side, the unspoken closeness of their friendship grounding them both.

The morning sunlight cut through the curtains sharply, pulling Y/N from a restless sleep. She blinked, momentarily disoriented, before realizing she was still in Vernon’s bed. He lay beside her, sprawled out on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting on his chest. The calm rise and fall of his breathing contrasted with the chaos that greeted her when she reached for her phone.

The screen lit up, and her heart immediately sank. Notifications were flooding in from every app.

Her group chat with Yuqi, Seungkwan, and Hoshi was ablaze:

Yuqi: Y/N, what the actual hell? WHERE ARE YOU?

Seungkwan: You left us in the middle of a disaster. Mingyu and Seungcheol almost fucking killed each other after you bailed.

Hoshi: They started yelling after you and Vernon left. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!

Yuqi: You and Vernon left together, didn’t you? People are talking. A LOT. Like, literally even our phones are blowing up about it.

Seungkwan: This whole thing is a fucking mess. Please tell me you’re okay and not caught up in it.

Y/N sighed heavily, scrolling past their messages to her notifications from Instagram and Twitter. The drama pages were out of control. Pictures and videos from the party had gone viral overnight.

One blurry photo showed Mingyu leaning in to kiss her during the game. The caption read: Did anyone else totally not see this coming? Or am I just an idiot?

Another post showed Seungcheol and Mingyu standing off later in the evening, their tension palpable. What’s going on here? Battle for the heart? 👀

And then there were the posts about her and Vernon:

A grainy video of them leaving the bar together was captioned: Forget Mingyu and Seungcheol—Y/N left with Vernon?? Plot twist of the century. We should all start placing bets on it.

There were also speculative tweets:

Y/N really upgraded from that mess to Vernon? Honestly, good for her. Seungcheol’s brooding and Mingyu’s impulsive, but Vernon? Stable king. I’m rooting for this one. Is it just me, or does Y/N seem to have all three wrapped around her finger? Good for her. 

Her phone buzzed with new texts.

Mingyu: Y/N, I’m so sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you. Please just let me explain.

Seungcheol: Are you okay? Please talk to me. I need to know you’re alright.

She groaned, her thumb hovering over the lock screen. It was too much—too many opinions, too many assumptions, and too many emotions she didn’t know how to process.

“Morning,” came Vernon’s groggy voice, pulling her attention. She turned to see him rubbing his eyes, his hair even messier than the night before. He yawned, then looked at her with a small, sleepy smile.

“Morning,” she said, trying to sound normal, but her voice cracked under the weight of everything on her mind.

He noticed her tense posture and the way her phone screen was lighting up non-stop. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice low but concerned.

She hesitated before handing him her phone. He scrolled through the messages and posts, his jaw tightening slightly.

“Well,” he said dryly, “this is a disaster.”

“You think?” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “ I don’t know how to deal with this right now.”

Vernon set her phone down and looked at her seriously. “You don’t have to deal with it, not yet. Let them talk. Let them speculate. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

“I don’t even know what I’d say,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mingyu kissed me, Seungcheol’s mad, and now apparently the entire world thinks we’re a thing. I guess they got into a fight? Like what the fuck. Maybe parties are a bad idea like my Grandma always said.”

Vernon smirked slightly, leaning back against the headboard. “To be fair, we domake a pretty good team.”

His attempt at humor made her crack a small smile, even as her chest tightened with stress. “Yeah, but that’s not what this is, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said softly. “But seriously, Y/N, ignore this shit. You don’t have to face this mess until you’re ready.”

Y/N nodded, though the knots in her stomach didn’t ease. “I feel like I owe you one.”

“Always, but no pressure. I don’t plan on getting into any trouble.” he said with a reassuring smile.

The sunlight spilled across the bed, the warmth of his presence grounding her amidst the chaos. But even as she tried to push the drama to the back of her mind, the thought of returning to the fallout lingered like a storm on the horizon.

note: hi!! a litttle bonus chapter to give u before i upload the next party probably tomorrow?? or this weekend :) just a taste of what the party was like and what happened and what y/n is going thru next (rip my girls mental health fr.)

taglist: @minhui896@sun-daddy-yoriichi@luchiet@miles-sketchbook@kissesfrmwonwoo@readerlozies@vcutparis@mxnhoeuwu@writingbarnes@headlockimnida@odxrilove@jeonghaniehaee@bath1lda @wonwootakemyheart @dokyomis@hanniesdegree @blvkkeddcc@gyuguys@rakshithanotrao @multiplumes @jihoonsbbygirl

[jessicaloons]

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:

Chapter 8

Masterlist - Previous - Next

The Heartbreak Prince

Barcelona 2023:

"I’ll be back soon, my little princess. I’m going to miss you so much." Charles whispered, cradling his daughter gently to his chest "Don’t grow too much, you hear me?" he kissed her forehead, his heart aching when he heard the sounds she made "You’ll call me after the check-up?"

"Charles, it’s just a standard check-up. It’s mandatory. They just check if she develops and grows the way she’s supposed to and look at her, she’s perfect and there is nothing wrong with her." his mother chuckled "But yes, I’ll call you right after."

"Thanks Maman." he kissed his mother’s cheek, then his daughters before carefully handing her over into the arms of his mother "Bye little princess."

"Bye daddy!" Pascale gently held Ava’s hand up and waved "Have a good race weekend, daddy."

Charles hummed a little, leaving his apartment. He wasn’t sure if he would have a good race weekend and when Saturdays qualifying was his worst session of the season so far he left the track frustrated in the evening. Back in his hotel room he felt alone, missing the sweet sounds of Ava she made when sleeping. He took out his phone and scrolled through his pictures. What used to be bright mix of race weekends, trips with his friends, parties and dinner get together’s was now a gallery of Ava. Little clips of her smiling for the first time, grabbing his finger tightly, turning her head. Pictures of her while sleeping, or looking at whoever held her with her big orbs. He missed his little girl. More than he ever thought it was possible. He forgot about the time when he FaceTimed his mother, hoping to see his little one after the day he had.

"Charles? Everything okay?" his mother looked as if she just woke up, that was when Charles realised how late it was.

"I’m sorry, Maman, I forgot how late it was. I just-… I wanted to see Ava." he mumbled and Pascale began to smile.

"Of course, well she’s sleeping but I guess there’s nothing wrong with having a look how she’s doing, no?" she said and the next moment Charles looked at his daughter, happily slumbering, making the most adorable noises, the ones he missed dearly next to him at night, and he felt his eyes stinging a little.

"Thanks Maman, that was what I needed…" he whispered and his mother nodded.

"You’ll do good tomorrow. Don’t worry."

"Yeah. Maybe…" Charles mumbled and sighed "For now, I just miss her…"

"You’ll see her in 2 days, Charles. Go to sleep now. You have a race to win tomorrow."

"Sure. Win. Good one…"

"How is she doing that?" Arthur mumbled and Charles looked up from his book.

"Doing what?" he tilted his head a little, looking at his brother and daughter.

"I was in a really, really bad mood. I hold her for not even a minute and I’m in the best mood ever. Like look at her squishy face! Her chubby cheeks? How can someone be this adorable?" Arthur cooed at the little girl lying on his thighs, stroking her tiny tummy.

"Well first off, I think she absorbs any bad energy around her and turns it into positive energy. And secondly, she’s my daughter look at me, I’m adorable." the older Leclerc laughed and Arthur threw his head back, cackling.

"Yeah sure… you’re not even in the slightest as adorable as Ava, nice try. But I agree… she’s like a filter system for bad mood."

"Don’t you ever again call my daughter a filter system!"

"Mood cleanser?"

"Arthur!"

"Okay, okay! Jeez. Seems like her filter system isn’t working long range…" the younger Leclerc mumbled, still chuckling.

"You’re an idiot, I hope you know that…" Charles sighed sprawling out on the floor "I really don’t want to go to Canada tomorrow…"

"Totally understandable… I cuddle every night with her for you."

"Usually you would come with me… I see that your priorities have changed."

"I can watch you race from here as well, just with the bonus that I can cuddle with my gorgeous niece." Arthur shrugged playing peek-a-boo with Ava, loving the excited sounds she made.

"I wish I could take her with me… but it’s just not possible…" Charles sat up, watching his daughter looking at her uncle with her big blue orbs "At least I know that you guys take good care of her."

"Yeah. Don’t worry. You go to Canada and do your best. We take care of our little angel."

"She’s my angel."

"Our angel."

Montreal 2023:

"Hey Charles, sorry to see you this soon here. You couldn’t quite set a good time with intermediates, were the tyres the problem?"

Charles sighed and took a sip out of his water bottle, shaking his head.

"I think they were partly the problem. I asked for slicks, the track was a mix of wet and dry at that point and I didn’t feel too comfortable on the inters…"

"You were frustrated on the radio, saying after the session that the tyres weren’t ready."

"I’m very frustrated with the qualifying in general. Not everything is about the tyres obviously, some others did exactly the same thing and still went through into Q3 on inters. But I couldn’t set a fast time with them and when we finally changed onto the slicks I had not enough time to prepare them… we are just making our lives so much more difficult like this." the Ferrari driver said, trying to not show how frustrated he truly was.

"What do you think about tomorrow, starting from P11?"

"We need to improve and do a step forward otherwise we’re always going to be disappointed so yeah…we need to improve now…" Charles said with finality in his voice, hoping the reporter would have enough and thankfully he nodded.

"Thank you Charles and good luck for the race tomorrow."

"Thanks." the driver followed Mia to the next interview, going over the same questions, again and again and when he finally made it back to the Ferrari hospitality the mood all around wasn’t the best. Only one car in Q3.

"Carlos has to go to the stewards later…" Andrea said, and Charles cocked an eyebrow "He impeded Pierre…"

"Shit. What position?"

"P8, for-…"

"P8? When he gets a penalty…" Charles looked over at Fred talking to Carlos and Ricky, his race engineer.

"He’ll be in P11 and you’re in P10…" Andrea replied "Let’s wait and see…"

It didn’t take long for the confirmation that he was indeed starting in front of Carlos and the mood in the garage had shifted. Charles never liked being in front of his teammate because he benefitted from a penalty, but he knew better than anyone else that there are races like this, Monaco was the best example for it. He knew that strategy wise he was now in a better position and had to deliver to maximise the teams points this weekend and when he sat down in the race debrief, with 22 points, 12 by him and 10 by Carlos, he felt like they did the best they could do with the situation they were given.

"… alright, that’s it for tonight. Let’s work hard to get you guys on the podium in Spielberg!" Fred dismissed the meeting and Charles got up immediately, ready to leave as fast as possible.

On his way out some of the mechanics asked if he would join them for a couple of beers but he declined, stating he was exhausted when Mario began to laugh.

"Sure, you’re exhausted… you can tell us, Charles, you have a special girl waiting at home for you…" he said, making the driver stop dead in his tracks, looking at him.

"What?" he was shocked, how did he know about Ava?

"You’re in love! Amore… it’s in your eyes.

I can see it." he chuckled and Charles let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding "So go, enjoy your time with your girl."

"Th-thanks…" the driver almost stuttered walking away as fast as possible.

"That was painful to watch…" Andrea appeared out of nowhere, making Charles flinch "You have to learn to hold it together a little…"

"I was just so freaking scared that they knew about A-…" he stopped, looking around and then continued with a quiet voice "I thought he knew about Ava. That’s- that’s like my worst nightmare right now. People finding out about her while I’m still adjusting to this new life…"

"You’re doing great, Charles, really. You should cut yourself some slack…" Andrea clapped his back.

"Yeah maybe, but I’m still not ready to be a single father under the scrutiny of everyone who knows who I am…" Charles sighed unlocking the car "Maybe one day, when I know how to manage everything, but for now, it’s like this… for now I hurry back home after the races to see my beautiful girl."

"Well I’d say then let’s get going. Let’s go home so you can see your little one."

"I can’t wait."

Charles walked through his living room, carefully rocking Ava to sleep, trying his best not to melt away when he looked at her. His mother sitting on the sofa with teary eyes, her heart so full of love for her son and granddaughter that she almost forget why she was here in the first place.

"Maman it’s really okay! I will be fine. I still have Enzo and Arthur…" Charles smiled, gently stroking Ava’s back and Pascale chuckled, her eyes trained on the scene in front of her.

"…if Enzo and Arthur are your last resort…"

"Charlotte… I have Charlotte, okay? We’ll be fine. So please, go!"

"It’s just two days, I promise! I need to go to this convention. I haven’t been to one in a long time and now that Marie left…" Pascale began and Charles nodded.

"We’ll be fine. Until then I have it figured out, okay? It’s in the week of the Hungarian GP?"

"Yeah… it would be on Monday and Tuesday, I’d be back Tuesday evening…"

"So we still got time. It’s all good. Really. I’ll talk to Silvia and Fred that I would fly out Tuesday night. It’ll be fine." he reassured his mother, smiling at her.

"You’re right. You’ll manage. And it still gives me time to manage what to do with the salon these two days, Julie can’t manage the salon and take care of all the appointments…" she agreed after a moment and Charles sat down next to her.

"And you’ll manage that as well…" he said, smiling at his mother "I wish I could take Ava with me from time to time, you know? But even if no one would see me with her, the moment someone sees her with you? Arthur? Or anyone else close to me? People wouldn’t stop asking questions whose daughter she is… and keeping her at a hotel room all the time? That’s not okay…" Charles sighed, smiling when Ava flinched a little, getting scared from her own adorable little sneeze.

"I know, Charles. But you’re doing the right thing I think… don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of you and what you’re doing, and how you act around your fans… you’re so down to earth and always make them smile. But it’s dangerous… they’re getting too close at times and with Ava with you? I would be scared for her safety…"

"No, you’re right. It’s too dangerous. For now this is the only way to ensure her safety, it’s what has to be done." Charles replied, getting up "I want her to be safe and happy. And if that means that she’s here with you while I’m away, then it’s okay…"

"It is, but you still don’t have to like it…" Pascale said quietly, watching her son laying down his precious little girl into the bassinet next to the sofa.

"Oh, believe me, I don’t like it. Not at all. I hate it. I hate it to leave her behind all the time, I hate it to have so little time for her between the races. I hate it all. But then again, coming home seeing her? It’s all worth it at the end of the day… and only 4 races left and it’s summer break. I can’t wait. 3 weeks without interruption." Charles smiled, stepping carefully away to not wake up his little one "3 weeks of not having to watch out for people seeing us. The house is private, high walls and fences. No one knows that we’re renting it. It’s going to be perfect."

"It will do you some good to not constantly look over your shoulder when you’re outside with her… and when you don’t have to wear this atrocious clothes to hide who you are…" Pascale gently patted her sons arm who scowled a little.

"That’s my normal clothes… I like them actually…" he replied and his mother’s eyes widened.

"You wear this jeans that fit you thrice, that weird sweatshirts… you wear that voluntary?" she asked, the shock evident in her voice.

"Umm- yeah, I do actually…"

"Oh. Okay. Umm-. Wow. Okay."

"Ouch… that doesn’t hurt at all… I wear that stuff all the time? In the paddock?"

"I don’t look at pictures of you online? Or in magazines or whatever. I see you these days mostly in sweatpants or shorts. Or with these oversized, weird clothes when you go out for a walk with Ava, always putting on caps and XXL-shades… sorry, I thought that’s some kind of disguise…" Pascale chuckled a little.

"Wow. Thanks Maman…" Charles rolled his eyes, plopping down next to her.

"I mean-… umm-… what do I know about fashion these days, you know? At the end of the day it’s just clothes." she shrugged her shoulders making her son laugh.

"Yeah… clothes you don’t like."

"Clothes I don’t like…"

Austria 2023:

Spielberg was always a track Charles liked a lot. A track he already won and stood on the podium before. Maybe if he worked hard enough, he finally could celebrate a win with his little girl. The first of many more to come hopefully. When he said goodbye on Tuesday evening, he held her close to his chest, kissing the crown of her head.

"I’ll be back soon, mon amour, I love you my baby girl." he whispered, then handed Ava over to his mother "Have a nice weekend together." he kissed his mothers cheek and then grabbed his bag, waving goodbye once last time, meeting up with Joris who waited outside for him.

"Ready?" he asked and Charles nodded, getting in the car, trying to focus on the weekend ahead.

Media day came and go, as always, the same questions, the same people. Fan events here, sponsor events there, Silvia parading him around like a puppy for everyone to fawn over, introducing him to business men and their guests, small talk left and right. Charles hated it. Every single minute of it. But it was part of his job. So he smiled, laughed, listened.

"I have to say Charles, you’re displaying a tremendous amount of strength, the way you pull through although our car this year is anything near the Red Bull." one man in a dark navy suit said, waving over a young girl "Alessia, I want you to meet Charles…" he said and Charles heart skipped a beat.

Alessia. His mouth went dry. His mind and heart started racing each other. No. It couldn’t be. She wouldn’t come here. She knew who he was. She wouldn’t do that. He didn’t listen to what the man in front of him said, he just tried to regain control over his body again, when the girl stopped in front of him and he looked at her face. He let out a sigh of relieve, carding nervously with his hand through his hair, chuckling.

"Charles, this is my daughter Alessia…" the businessman began big Charles interrupted him.

"It was nice to meet you, the both of you, but I need to make a call. Please excuse me." he said and stormed off, out of the room down the hallway to a little terrace, where he sat down, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"Here…" a voice startled Charles and he looked up at Carlos, handing him a glass with a dark drink in it "I thought you could need one, I for sure can…"

"Thanks." Charles nodded and clinked his glass with his team mates.

"Since when are there so many young girls attending these sponsor events? It’s usually just old men and some business women? But now it seems like every guy is bringing their daughters along." Carlos shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.

Charles thought for a moment and had to admit that he was right, the last 2 events he attended were also packed with a lot of girls.

"Maybe the fathers want their daughters to get more involved in what they’re doing? Make them passionate about racing? Wouldn’t be too bad if we get more girls into watching F1 or motorsports in general…" he shrugged, taking a sip from his drink as well, grimacing at the taste "What is that?"

"It’s whiskey… I just grabbed the first two glasses the bartender had prepared, probably some dudes in there waiting for their drinks still…" Carlos laughed "So. What’s going on with you?"

Charles looked at him, cocking an eyebrow but the Spaniard didn’t look away, holding his gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh come on mate, I’m not stupid! Somethings going on…" he insisted and Charles heart was pounding "You, Fred, Silvia, you all act a little weird here and there, like you know something the rest of us doesn’t…"

"I-I don’t know what you mean… there is nothing we don’t- umm we don’t know anything you don’t know! Or I mean-… maybe they do but I don’t know either so they fool us both…" the Monegasque stuttered, making Carlos raise an eyebrow again.

"You’re the worst liar. You need to work on that. Like seriously." the older driver chuckled, taking another sip before he continued, his voice more serious "Is it about our contracts?" he asked, mustering his team mate, but when Charles didn’t react, only looked at him wide eyed and confused, he sighed "Alright, I won’t ponder."

Charles felt bad. He liked Carlos, sure, they weren’t the best of friends, as teammates it was almost impossible, but there was a mutual respect, on and off track and lying to him was something he didn’t like. Especially when Carlos thought it was about such an important topic like their contract extensions.

"I have no idea about our contract situation, I swear. You’re right. There is something going on, but it has nothing to do with you, with the team, not even with racing. It’s a private issue and Fred and Silvia know about it. That’s all. I swear." Charles stated after a while, looking at Carlos.

"Is everything okay?" he wondered, looking relived when the younger driver nodded "Okay… you know- umm… if you need someone to talk, you can talk to me. I mean, we’re teammates after all…"

"Thanks Carlos, I appreciate it." Charles smiled a little and they both fell silent again.

He didn’t know how long they sat there, but when they finally made their way back inside, the event was almost over, Silvia looking more than annoyed.

"You can go now, it’s over. Go back to the hotel, relax, rest, the weekend starts tomorrow and we want you to deliver a good performance… at least on track, if you can’t keep our sponsors happy apart from it…" she said tight lipped and stormed off, leaving the two drivers alone, chuckling.

"Then I’d say let’s go and rest so we can deliver…" Carlos said winking, following the redhead and Charles tagged along.

The weekend started out well for Charles and when he FaceTimed with his mother and daughter after the qualifying he felt confident, although that confidence faded after the sprint shootout and later the sprint race itself.

"P12. Fucking P12. What the fuck." he was pacing back and forth in his hotel room, too agitated to sit down.

"The real race is tomorrow. You’ll start from P2. It’ll be fine." Joris tried to calm his best friend down who just scoffed.

"Did you see how bad I was driving today? What makes you think I’d be better tomorrow?" the driver finally plopped down on the sofa, head in his hands "This season is the worst I’ve ever had… even worse than at Sauber."

"Oh come on. Stop that. I bet my ass that you’ll do just fine tomorrow. You know what? I say, you make it onto the podium." Joris sounded determined, confident and Charles had to chuckle "If I can believe in you, you can too…"

"I’m trying. I really am but-…" he began but his best friend shook his head.

"No but. You’ll finish this race on the podium. Period." he stated and after a moment of silence Charles nodded.

"You’re right. I’ll finish on the podium." he said, knowing that no matter what he would say, Joris would diminish it anyway and when he waved at him from the podium, claiming a P2 he could see the big grin of his best friend, knowing he would get a big I told you so as soon as he would be back in the garage.

"Little stop over at home and then Silverstone my ass…" Charles groaned, hating to leave Ava after not even 24 hours again.

"You sure you have everything? I saw a lot of stuff on your bed?" Pascale asked him and he shrugged.

"It was stupid to unpack. For a day..." he mumbled going back to his bedroom, returning a minute later with a bunch of clothes and toiletries in his arms "So stupid…" he dropped everything haphazardly into his suitcase, closing it "Come here little princess." Charles walked towards his mother who handed her granddaughter to her father and then sat down, watching her son cooing at his little girl "I guess I have to go now…" the young father said after a quiet few minutes where he cradled his bundle of joy close to his heart "I don’t want to… but I have to…" he sighed, kissing Ava’s chubby cheek, smiling at the little yawn she let out "And you baby girl need to go to bed…"

"I’ll take care of that." Arthur jumped up from where he was sitting, happily taking his niece out of his brother’s arms when their mother got up, rolling her eyes.

"Arthur, you have to leave as well… so come on. No stalling…" the older Leclerc brother said, grabbing his phone.

"I’m not stalling… I just think- I don’t know…" Arthur sighed handing his niece over to his mother "I just much rather would stay here than race…" he mumbled, kissing Ava’s head.

"Well, same… but it’s our job, so…" Charles shrugged, slipping on his shoes.

"I know, I know." the youngest Leclerc brother held up his hands and slipped on his shoes as well "Let’s go… goodbye, little princess. Goodbye, Maman." he kissed both of their cheeks and then stepped aside for his brother to do the same.

"I see you on Monday…" Charles whispered to his daughter before he looked up at his mother "Thanks for taking care of her, Maman. See you on Monday. Or wait, is the convention next week?"

"No, it’s after Hungary." Pascale replied, smiling when Ava grabbed onto her necklace, looking at the sparkling charm.

"Okay. And it’s all sorted with the salon? You can go and don’t have to close for the days?"

"Yes, I found a solution." Pascales smile got bigger.

"That’s good." Charles said and waved at his little girl, ready to leave.

"What solution?" Arthur asked, intrigued by his mother’s big smile that wasn’t solely based of his niece happily babbling away in his mother’s arms "Maman? What’s the solution?"

"Lauren. She’s the solution…" his mother whispered, but before Arthur could ask any further questions his brother already, pulled him towards the door.

"Joris is here, let’s go. Bye Maman, bye Ava."

"No, wait, I want to know-…"

"Whatever it is, it can wait, we’re late."

"I just want to know who Lauren is!"

"Lauren?" Charles cocked an eyebrow, stepping into the elevator.

"Yes, Maman said she’s the solution…"

"Who?"

"Lauren!"

"Who the hell is Lauren?"

Chapter 8 - I am back and I am sooo sorry it took me this long to upload this chapter! Long story short, here it is… enjoy it! Next chapter we might get the first meeting… or not… I guess you’ll have to wait and see 🤭

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@glitterquadricorn @lottalove4evelyn @janeh22 @itsjustkhaos @mariclerc @fangirlforever2000

[harrywavycurly]

Trouble Next Door: Only Once (bonus convo)

Masterlist: Here

TW: Mentions of cheating, punching someone and divorce

Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @makingmunson94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @idkjoequinn @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99

A/N: Now y’all might not agree with how Eddie handles this situation aka certain pieces of info he doesn’t tell Reader but you have to put yourself in his shoes and he just doesn’t want to cause anymore stress or issues for his bestfriend. Anywayyyy I hope y’all enjoy✨

“So…before you say anything…don’t be mad okay?” “Edward James…did you hit him?” “Only once…” “what happened to words and not fists?” “He said some stupid fucking words so…I had to use my…fist.” “What did he say?” “That he misses you…and he still loves you and uh something about not wanting a divorce.” “He still loves me? And doesn’t want a divorce…yet he’s the one who cheated?” “I mean it’s Steve and he’s drunk so…making sense wasn’t really in the cards for him tonight.” “What else did he say?” “Nothing.” “Eddie…” “he said that Chrissy kissed him…she’s the one who started this…whole thing.” “What? Why?” “She didn’t think I’d care…” “I’ll kill her.” “No need…it’s fine her and I are over with so no point in going to jail for someone who doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.” “Why would she think you wouldn’t care? She was your wife…you loved her…” “I have no clue…” “so was him telling you he loved me still or that he doesn’t want a divorce that made you hit him? Or are you gonna tell me the truth?” “It doesn’t matter why I hit him okay?…I’m also…not sorry I did…he deserved it.” “Well let’s go get you some ice.” “I love you…please don’t be mad at me.” “I’m not mad at you Eddie…I love you too..I’m sorry I even let you go out there I should’ve just called Jim….he really didn’t say anything else? Like maybe why he did what he did?” “Just that Chrissy started it and it just went from there…” “I was hoping maybe since he was drunk he’d let it all slip out.” “Yeah…oh i forgot to tell you…uhm my house goes on the market in a week.” “What? That’s so exciting…but also sad because we won’t be neighbors anymore.” “Better make the best of it while we can then…but maybe I’ll find something in the neighborhood I like.” “Maybe! I saw a few for sale signs this morning on my walk.” “We’ll be okay…even if we aren’t neighbors you’re never getting rid of me.” “Thank god…can you imagine a life without each other in it? Talk about boring.” “Yeah…so boring.”

[cr4yolaas]

the night shift — forget about it

day 4 | masterlist | day 6

now playing: overslept (feat. mei ehara) by faye webster

note: this is not a new chapter i just realized i forgot to put a taglist … whoops!

there's bodies strewn all over the floor. hinata lays sprawled across the living room carpet, while yachi inhabits the couch with her arms folded and her head uncomfortably leaning on the stiff armrest. kenma is nowhere to be seen (more than likely, he had retreated to his own bedroom to escape the possibility of waking up feeling gross and tense). three men lay beside each other, all of them using their own clothes as some semblance of a pillow or blanket (she tries not to look at him with his sweater beneath his head. the sight reminds her of the jacket — his jacket — that's been collecting dust in the depths of her closet).

she tiptoes cautiously around the mass of limbs and heads, her own all too fuzzy and numb to really be aware of what she's doing. her feet guide her to the kitchen, and the pantry door stares her, wide open and waiting. her morality outweighs her exhaustion. breakfast for five? six? seven? will do.

quite frankly, she feels like shit.

it shows in her movements; in the less-than-delicate cracking of eggs and the overspilled oil on the counter, there's evidence of her heavy heart and the remnants of alcohol still in her system. there's three different pots and pans on the stove and it's beyond overstimulating. she's starting to regret her decision, until soft footsteps pad up to her, just as quiet as hers.

kageyama stands beside her, almost awkwardly. his sweatpants hang loosely from his hips and the old, worn t-shirt he bears is clearly about to give out during its next trip to the dryer. something about the sight makes her heart churn and her chest ache. it's too comforting, too warm.

"are you okay?" he whispers. heavy snores ring in the background. it's just them.

"yeah, why?"

he shakes his head. the deflection comes to her easily, and just as easily, he recognizes it. he recognizes her. he sees the tell-tale signs of redirection when she shifts the conversation to work and breakfast and other miscellaneous things that are mere fillers to something deeper. the events of two nights ago float around in his head — the yelling, the cursing, the heavy breaths and even heavier sighs. he wonders where it all went, if she really, really didn't mean it. he hopes it was misdirection, but he isn't sure if he'll ever truly know. so, for now, he just hopes he can forget about it and let it go.

she glances at him occasionally. he watches intently as she plates the food, her hands nearly slipping in some places and his own flinching almost instinctively in response. they're quiet. the stove clicks off and the exhaust fan whirrs to silence. kageyama grabs what he can from the counter and follows her to the table, the plates and bowls clinking in unison.

it's too peaceful, too comfortable. the apology that sat on the back of her throat since that shift dissolves, too scared of ruining the solitude they'd established. she bites the inside of her cheek, slowly gnawing at the skin in hopes that it'll take away the guilt in her stomach.

bonus:

ᡣ𐭩 one of my fav chapters so far text convo wise

ᡣ𐭩 my biggest weakness is def funny and interesting conversations that aren’t just for the plot 😭😭

ᡣ𐭩 tsukishima came over w yams (begrudgingly) hence why he ended up sleeping over w them

ᡣ𐭩 post-stream they were soo exhausted and so out of it no one was in a stable condition to get back home

ᡣ𐭩 projecting my deflection into yn super hard rn

ᡣ𐭩 kenma is so mean to kuroo n yn but he loves them i promise. he’s just on his man period every other day </3

taglist: @causenessus @strawberryurii @iiwaijime @savemebrazilhinata @tiramizuloz @conrad4life13 @wyrcan @zazathezaer @nperoconelcositoarriba @cupidsblonde @thechaosoflonging @diorzs @aozui @fefesooli

[hunterbunter3000]

It was hard deciding which kneeling incident I wanted so I wrote all of them together lol (hell, maybe they all happened) pick which one is your favorite and let me know!

Shoutout to @imonmykneessir and @ruler-of-the-nether for wanting to know more about 141 Sweetheart and her simps HAHA

- ❀

#1

Laswell: Where are you off to, Keller?

Alex: Oh, I'm taking Sweets to town. Just to sightsee and things.

Laswell, smiling: That sounds fun. Where is she by the way?

141 Sweetheart, walking out wearing a sundress and sandal wedges: I'm here!

141 Sweetheart: Hi Laswell! How you doin'?

Alex, seeing Sweetheart:

Laswell: I'm good, Sweetheart. You look beautiful in that sundress.

141 Sweetheart: Aww, Thank you! Hey Alex, you ready?

Alex, braindead: Mhm.

141 Sweetheart: Oh wait- I think I forgot my phone... Wait here, Kell.

Alex, still braindead, gets down on his knees, eyes still trained on Sweetheart:

141 Sweetheart:

Laswell:

141 Sweetheart: ....You can- you can stand. And wait. Think that'll be easy... for your knees.

Alex blinks out of his trance and stands: Oh-- shit yeah.

(An awkward silence is in the air)

Alex, coughing: Do you need help finding your phone?

141 Sweetheart, already moving on: Sure.

--

Lil Bonus!

Laswell, smirking: Are gonna talk about what that wa--

Alex: No

-❀

#2

Alex, whining: Sweets, pleeaaassseee

141 Sweetheart making tea, sighing: Alex hun, no! I'm not gonna tackle you just so you could feel my thighs again. You tricked me one too many times.

Alex, scoffing: It's not because of that!

141 Sweetheart giving him a 'really bitch' look:

Alex: --The first time! It- wasn't because of that the first time... but just one more? I'm legit trying to get that move right!

141 Sweetheart: Okay, you want me to teach you?

Alex nodding:

141 Sweetheart, turning back to her tea: Then beg.

Alex:

(He then drops to his knees insanely close to Sweetheart's legs)

141 Sweetheart, bug eyed: WHAT THE-

Alex, laying it on THICK: Sweetheart, please. Please teach me. I beg of you. You're so strong and powerful... you know so many fighting techniques. I just want to learn one? Please?

141 Sweetheart, stunned:

(Alex feels bold, fingers ever so gently feeling her calf and slowly going up, causing Sweetheart to short-circuit)

Alex with big, pleading puppy eyes: I'll do anything you say, Sweetheart. I promise.

(He places a soft kiss on her knee, mind immediately wanting to worship her entire being. He shakes that thought away and then looks up at her)

Alex: Can you please teach me?

141 Sweetheart, nodding slowly:

Alex, face lightning up and leaving: Okay good! I'll get changed and you do the same! See you in 0.58 minutes! (Half an hour military time)

Alex, smirking: Really? Are you sure?

141 Sweetheart, mumbling: Y...yeah...

141 Sweetheart:

Laswell, who walked in seeing only half of this: What the hell was that?

141 Sweetheart, still stunned and a bit flustered: I don't... I dunno...

-*-

Alex lied. It was definitely just to feel her thighs around his neck and face.

Alex, eyes closed and face pink: Mmh... I'm going to heaven again~!

141 Sweetheart: GOD DAMMIT ALEX

-❀

Alex, stressed and looking out the window: The storm's not letting up. We have to wait longer than we need to...

#3

(After a mission gone awry, Alex and Sweetheart got split up from 141. They found an abandoned house and called for backup or evac. What's worse is that Sweetheart got shot. And what's even worse is that there's a hurricane outside)

141 Sweetheart, holding her bleeding arm: Heyyyyy that's okay! We'll-- ugh-- We'll be fine.

Alex, frowning: We? Fuck a 'we', you're the one who got fucking shot, Sweets. Not me-- God dammit can this storm go away?!

Alex, scoffing with a faux grin: Always so positive...

141 Sweetheart, slouching on the broken couch: It'll let up, Kell. I know it will.

(Alex stares at her for a bit. He wonders how a person with so much hope join the military)

Alex, trudging to Sweetheart: Always seeing the good in people...

Alex: Can you see the good in me? Can you?

141 Sweetheart, looking up at him confused: Alex?

(He drops to his knees hard on the mildew covered floorboards. He looks defeated. After a beat of silence, his glossy eyes bore into hers. The vulnerability surprises Sweetheart)

141 Sweetheart: I--

Alex, whispering: I'm sorry.

Alex, tears welling in his eyes: I let you down, Sweetheart... I couldn't keep you safe. You-- You got hurt because of me.

(He leans forward, head laying on her knee and hands conjoined on top of her thigh, like he's praying for her forgiveness.)

141 Sweetheart with sad eyes: Alex... Honey, there's nothing-- ow- nothing to be sorry for.

(She cups his cheek, making him look at her blinding smile)

141 Sweetheart, chuckling: I'm in the army for damn's sake. Was gonna get shot someday!

141 Sweetheart: And of course I see the good in you. I always have and I always will.

(She wipes away a tear that Alex didn't know fall on his cheek. He huffs and smiles. A genuine smile. His hand claps over hers, thankful that she's here with him)

Alex: Thank you.

-*-

(They made it out. Sweetheart did fine when the bullet got taken out but cried when she had to get stitches)

Thank you so much for the amazing positive feedback on these! I'm so happy and honored 💖💕

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2024-08-04

(Previous post - current page 440)

Breaktime's over, it's about time to continue! Expect me to take a handful of days between each posting-day like this just to pace myself, and have time for fun video games and other such. But I've been really enjoying finally reading more HS2 too, especially seeing such hopeful stuff like this last pair of pages really hitting home on the optimism! Let's get back to it.

Meanwhile...

Wait did we SEE her keel back over like this? Alt!Callie in this younger/teenage corpse of Jade Harley's body I mean? When did that happen? *thumbs back through old pages...* Let's see here... my browser still glitches the fuck out seizureways at the few pages that were Blacked Out, so i'll use a backup browser for those... no, further back... oh wow I forgot Aradia got such a cool Calliope-supporting outfit to show off she's on their side, literally zero memory of that and that's some FINE drip...

Oh shit wait, so it happened back over here??? (289/290)

--I figured back then she'd gotten a snap headache because of having to abandon possessing Jade's MAIN body in the struggle Alt!Calliope had with Jade's consciousness culminating around page 168, but these cuts are all so far apart-- and being knocked out of the other Jade's body shouldn't have knocked her out of this CORPSE. So is somethign entirely NEW going on that has to do perhaps with Dirk Strider's plans to maintain control of the narrative when the other kids arrive there?? Hmmm.

Anyway now I know where that bonus panel I'd accidentally glimpsed with "god-tier bodies don't decompose right" that I mentioned last blogging session came from. But why the fuck?

==>

Gosh I've missed seeing panels like this.

Wait, why are we cutting to CANDY JOHN like that's relevant here? Wasn't he in Roxy's secret lab last we saw him? Does THAT have something to do with this?! Oh shit.

(John: Investigate noise.)

Following Roxy's instructions, you proceed in the direction of the noise to go and meet up with your old friends. You approach where you thought you heard them, but to your surprise you hear an unfamiliar voice grumbling something incoherent.

JOHN: uhhh, rose? jade? JOHN: ... kanaya?

Hm? What was going on upstairs again, Karkat met up with the other liberators right? Okay let me not be so lazy and go back and check again...

Excuse me for a second, I'm going backwards to review and post some older HS2 stuff for a bit:

No they left, then John came from his destroyed old house to his and Roxy's NOT-old house, then they transportalized downstairs to the secret lab buried "hella underground" not directly under the house, where Calliope is wearing... suspiciously the EXACT new outfit that Aradia is wearing, and gives her hints that she enjoys all sorts of alternate stories like watching Roxy be in a relationship with John here in Candy instead of with herself in Meat, and added fuel to our obvious theory suspicions that Meat Alive Calliope is the author-narrator shaping the (Candy) timeline with her wall drawings and Muse of Space powers, and that they are... standing in the location in their reality that corresponds to the exact center of the singularity / black hole they're trying to stabilize? I'd forgotten about that... and then Calliope told John that alt!Calliope and Aradia and such had broken out of the black hole's event horizon for their mission, while Calliope explained that (Candy)'s timeline is so WEIRD because they've been disconnected a little TOO much from the canon of reality, like a fanwork that strays a little too far from the source material, so they need to stabilize it somehow AND NEED VRISKA (to either steal some relevance back from Canon or to get swapped there with something else or, something else we might have theorized?) but I had plumb forgotten that they SPECIFICALLY say that for their plans to work they needed John to leave and do something:

ROXY: this is finally where u come in jegbert ROXY: we gots quests for yous CALLIOPE: hee hee, yes. CALLIOPE: or *a* quest, to be specific. JOHN: oh boy!

ROXY: i mean yeah ur gonna obvs facilitate it in a sense ROXY: but only by going and busting the person who can actually help us outta normal earth jail CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity. ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan. CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more. CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it. CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak.

Right, Vriska's constant focus on making herself one of the most relevant characters to Canon and her powerset actually making her perfect TO do that as a Thief of Light (relevance/importance) makes that a good plan. And I fully expected one possibility was that they somehow allow her to break through to the Canon Meat timeline and both (1) influence it some way, and (2) get to a place where she could eventually reunite with Terezi Pyrope finally instead of just having left her a parting message, which may or may not happen if Meat Terezi is going to focus possibly a bit more on her relationship with John(June) once somehow resurrected or such but would definitely be amazing to have them reunited when Terezi spent SO MUCH TIME looking for her that she wasn't even part of the (Candy) timeline of events? Enough re-theorizing let me keep re-reading-- And... oh right,

CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself?

I'm sure I was happy as hell to see that explicitly spelled out in canon for once instead of implied, because it may have been obvious to those of you who follow theoryblogs but one of the big reasons I'm glad to see these things made more explicit out in HS^2 is so even casual readers can pick up that these aspects always had these additional more important purposes that line up with all the events that happened in the past of the original comic.

But anyway. John's about to go on his bust-Vriska-out-of-prison quest:

And it's not like he has other plans. He may as well do this! It's at least going to get him involved in things again, if nothing else. He turns to go, and then hears a sound. It's the sound of feet and knocking on doors, echoed through stone and digital static.

And then,

JOHN: did you hear that? ROXY: wha ROXY: oh yeah uh ROXY: i may have messaged rose and kan and jade to check on them too ROXY: so its prob onea them showin up ROXY: they don't need to know bout all this tho ROXY: we got time to chat with them b4 u go get vriska JOHN: i'll go stall em. ROXY: thx babe ROXY: oh is it 2 soon for that joke or JOHN: no, weirdly enough, that one's fine. ROXY: oh good ok see u up there soon!

And that's where we left off-- wasn't it their kids' team who got back into their house or something? Eh I'm done looking, now I at least know there was A NOISE that was playing through the monitors from the topside of their house above the teleporter that he's running to intercept.

Okay, past catch-up over. Back to present liveblogging. Looks like this isn't Rose and Kanaya like John expects, from the sound of it-- but the way John's running down a hallway makes it look like this is INSIDE OF THE LAB STILL, so the question is who is down here or CAME down here or...

(==>)

Oh, Sollux is helping Roxy and Calliope out with their project, playing on Roxy's pink retro consoles. That shouldn't actually be too shocking should it.

Wait, how is he playing video games if he's BLIND? Robo-eyes? It's gotta be robo-eyes.

(==>)

Stare

(==>)

Sandwich stare

(==>)

SOLLUX: eating a sandwich.

Brilliant. And yeah he lives here-- but he's actually LOOKING at stuff isn't he, with eyes of some sort? Even though he's still using the 0 quirk? Tell us what's up with that!

(==>)

John stop thinking this is a relationship between Sollux and Roxy, your divorcee/ex. Unless it is, which would be pretty cool honestly.

(==>)

SOLLUX: y0u w0rried im m0ving in 0n y0ur ex? JOHN: ...hmm. SOLLUX: ... JOHN: hm. hmm. hm. JOHN: hm? HMMMM. SOLLUX: what is g0ing 0n here. JOHN: sorry, i had an answer but then i started actually considering it. JOHN: am i jealous? JOHN: hmmm... SOLLUX: if i tell y0u straight up n0 we arent h00king up will y0u st0p? JOHN: ...maybe? SOLLUX: g0ddammit.

I'm really enjoying all this for some reason.

JOHN: are you still hanging out with that creepy alive girl? SOLLUX: SOLLUX: 0n a spiritual level. JOHN: cool! JOHN: is ... she also dating roxy? SOLLUX: what? SOLLUX: idk.

I'm pretty sure I get excited at the idea of literally ANY relationship potentially happening between all these characters I love.

(==>)

Oh no John is offloading his personal problems on him in longform conversation. He doesn't want that! XD

JOHN: and it only changed because i started talking to people again. SOLLUX: (i did this t0 myself why did i ask) JOHN: i guess in gamer terms it's the same as screwing yourself over by not checking every non playable character dialogue box. JOHN: any one of them could have the clues you need.

Feels kind of like we're doing the thing from that Steven Universe: Future episode where Steven is critically upset that important things happened in the lives of his friends offscreen somewhere he wasn't around to be aware of it, when realistically as a person you can't keep up with everything, especially not John who kept to himself in a slump for a decade as he puts it in some of the conversation I'm not fully requoting.

Okay Sollux dunks on John a bit, possibly deservedly... and to some extent, in a misogynist gamer phrasing typical to Sollux, John's lack of agency? Which I think would improve somewhat once the gender issues Roxy alluded to both upstairs and in the lab with him are resolved in part, because he can't be FULLY comfortable swept up in a relationship while he's still considering herself "he"...

SOLLUX: i have n0t been able t0 play this game the wh0le time because s0me0ne was talking 0ver the s0und. JOHN: oh! JOHN: sorry : (

Oh he's been using sound-only and audio assistance to play the game like a speedrunner almost instead of seeing it. That explains that.

(==>)

I don't quite understand the shape of that thing to the right of Sollux's head, like there's some sort of watermark over it WAIT THAT'S A DOOM SYMBOL WATERMARK TAKING UP MOST OF THE FRAME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE

SOLLUX: w0rds d0nt mean much. SOLLUX: 0nly acti0ns.

(This is a perfect sort of thing someone for someone on the Life/Doom spectrum to say, which would be MUCH MUCH HARDER for someone on the Light/Void spectrum to say or especially a Light player. Doom being about the consequences of one's actions in part and all.) Is he about to use some Mage of Doom powers visibly onscreen?

(==>)

Ohhh. So he was making a dramatic Doom Prophecy that will matter to John's choices in the future if he heeds the right lessons, while also hinting toward the nature of Doom itself as I covered. Got it. That's fun! Also it was a pink cat pillow behind his head, that's the thing I was having so much trouble seeing.

(==>)

SOLLUX: WAIT. JOHN: !

He's gonna ask him to pass him a soda from across the room or something.

(==>)

SOLLUX: change my game f0r me.

This is so cute.

(Be Vrissy.)

GODDAMNIT JAILBREAK AGAIN LOL

Vriska the elder has decided to take it upon herself to test if you measure up to the arduous task of being a Vriska. For your first test: find a way to bust out of this dump. What will you do?

Stop judging her on your stupid Vriska standards, Vriska! I hope the way this plays out eventually plays straight into the idea that this very-Vriska-like-but-not-quite-Vriska individual has her own unique strengths. I'm not sure I mentioned it earlier, but when I said that it's possible that Vrissy is a Mind player, I'm actually really excited to see the comic demonstrate that (regardless of whether or not Vrissy is or isn't completely genetically identical to Vriska) because not only would it be a good lesson for the original Vriska that Vrissy has her own value, it's also a great Classpect demonstration of how the difference in their characters and action styles amounts to a different effect on reality in the form of a Hero Title that is different...

...and in fact now that I think about it, even though it may have rubbed me just slightly wrong somewhere inside that Vrissy and Vriska could have different Hero Titles even if they WERE genetically identical, I'm actually gonna turn around and say I've decided I love that, because if Sburb gives the genetically identical Vrissy a different title and she unlocks a different powerset purely because of the unique combination of nature *AND* nurture that resulted in her, that would emphasize much more properly that Sburb isn't FORCING or pigeonholing you into a Hero Title that doesn't suit you, it really is reading into your future and soul to tell you THE MOST EFFECTIVE WAY you PERSONALLY would find right to influence reality around you. That makes the lesson of its title assignment and the answer to the Ultimate Riddle that I've long discussed a STRONGER answer, not a weaker one.

And I'm encouraged by the very first thing Vrissy tries being something the original Vriska would NEVER have tried first, which Vriska over here probably is gonna be snide/discouraging about:

(Vrissy: Call for help.)

Have we SEEN their chumhandles before? I feel like we've seen Vrissy's before at least-- "adamantGriftress" is an awesome chumhandle for her, and I know for SURE I've already seen thespiansGlamor as Harry Anderson's. Who the fuck is glutinousGymnast, is that Yiffy's handle, and what does glutinous mean again?!?? (I had to google it just in case, it's New Tavros's handle. Glutinous is "like glue in texture; sticky.", often referring to sticky rice or baking dough. Ew. Stickiness sort of implies the opposite of Breath doesn't it...? And he's a gymnast?)

Now. Who the fuck is "recidivousGainsayer"? Vrissy didn't know Yiffy existed, so she wouldn't have her in her phone already unless they'd been internet friends without knowing each other personally, which would be... kinda sweet really. And Yiffy is certainly rebellious, but she seems more recalcitrant than recidivous, though I can't rule it out, especially since she's basically grown up at a boarding school; a quick google to see if we'd seen the chumhandle before also highlighted someone commenting that "RG" doesn't follow the ACGT DNA pattern, and even if you switch to RNA it just swaps the T with a U. Could be that this is a chumhandle of one of the characters we had been following over in the Bonus Comics or something.

You're pretty sure that would be an automatic fail on Vriska's test. But even if it wasn't, it isn't like you could message anyone; not anyone worth talking to anyway. There's no service in here, the only bars you've got are the ones on the windows.

Yeah, Vrissy at least knows Vriska well enough to know what she'd approve and disapprove of most broadly, unfortunately. I hope she comes to understand how Vriska should really not be her role model.

Oh not this again--

(Vrissy: Get key.)

Vriska drew this shitty key on the floor "juuuuuuuust in case you need a reminder of what you should be working towards ::::)."

Vriska, you asshole!

(Vrissy: Try the door.)

You fruitlessly pull on the bars. Vriska says it looks like it's still locked. Yeah???????? No shit, you tell her. You're just trying to see if you can get a guard's attention. She says ooooooooh that's a good idea.

If you don't keep complimenting her I'm going to be very cross with you, Vriska.

Hm, it'd be really fitting and interesting if Vrissy Mindgames her way out of this one by putting on a façade of distress and convincing the guard to barge in, maybe saying Vriska's escaped or such.

(Vrissy: Get a guard's attention.)

One of those guards Jane intentionally had all dress like Dave to taunt Jane about Dave's death or just make them harder for her and Rose to stomach fighting, right.

Maybe you should use some of your SICKNASTY BRAIN EXPLOITABLES on this jabroni.

How much practice does she have with her psychic powers? All Aranea was able to do with Cerulean psychics on humans was get a vague sense of the emotions of people around her toward her like she always does, and Vriska WAS able to put a human to sleep or wake them in another universe but only when trying so hard that her Light symbol flashed in her eye, emphasizing that a Cerulean troll who WASN'T using the powers of a God-Tier Thief of Light wouldn't necessarily be able to do the same to a human. Stealing wakefulness or stealing through wakefulness, wakefulness being a part of Agency and thus Light, where Void is associated with sleep and dreams, et cetera. (Vriska put people (like Jade D:) to sleep FAR FAR MORE OFTEN than she woke them up, and when she woke John that one time it could have been considered "stealing THROUGH Light" because it deprived him of an opportunity in his dreams to meet his Dad as his dreamself just to give Vriska the selfish opportunity to speak with him at the exact time she'd wanted to speak with him.)

Also, if Vrissy DOES refer to her Cerulean mind powers as "sicknasty BRAIN exploitables" that does put Mind more in mind than usual... and exploitables could just be flavor or it COULD be a reference to EXPLOIT, the theoretical Knight/Page action verb?! --Nah that's probably a stretch.

(Vrissy: Use your Sicknasty Brain Exploitables.)

You apply the focused totality of your psychic power into this douchebag's cranium. Frustratingly, it looks like this guy is resisting your psychic enthrallment so he can get at that donut. Other than occasionally making Tavros dance when he's being boring, you honestly don't do this much.

Holy shit, if she could make New Tavros DANCE, this actually means that Vrissy has more control over human minds than Vriska ever had?!? That or New Tavros is uniquely impressionable, which is ALSO a possibility; the original comic itself emphasized that the "impressiona8le" were more vulnerable to her abilities... those who had less control or agency over themselves.

Also, Vriska had only just met her first humans when her psychic talents were limited to making them sleep-- Vrissy grew up alongside other humans, and that might just be enough for her to understand their minds enough to do some occasional manipulation.

Your mom is always like, "You Need To Listen To Me Vriska Its Important To Keep These Skills Honed In Case Shit Gets Real", but shit so rarely if ever gets real so mom should get OFF your CASE!!!!!!!! Until now, you guess. Wow do you hate realizing your mom was right about shit. ANYWAYS, LAY OFF THE FUCKING DONUTS AND GET OVER HERE ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!

On the one hand, it's unsurprising that Vrissy didn't keep her talents honed for battle or anything, and wouldn't have invested nearly as much energy into exploiting people with psychic powers as Vriska's twisted childhood forced her to; but on the other hand, like I said, this is STILL a bit more direct influence over humans than Vriska ever had, even if it's not working right now!

(==>)

Hell yeah!!!!!!!!

HOLY SHIT SHE ACTUALLY OUTCLASSED ORIGINAL VRISKA IN CONTROLLING A HUMAN MIND.

Is Vriska going to feel jealous?! Holy shit?!?? Or is this old hat for her now and she's gonna say she could do it all along, or a retcon along those lines or-- gosh just PLEASE I WANNA SEE VRISKA JEALOUS AS FUCK OF VRISSY'S PSYCHIC TALENTS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HAVE ORIGINAL VRISKA GO "WHOA HOW DID YOU DO THAT"

(Vriskas: Exit the cell.)

Damn that felt good. After locking up the guard you turn to Vriska and ask her what next. Vriska says that now it's time to fuck some shit up. You like the sound of that. You ask her if there's any specific shit or place she wants to go fuck up. She says you'll just walk around until you land somewhere cool. You both laugh. You ask her what her real plan is. She keeps laughing as she walks away.

That's definitely her real plan. But anyway-- UGH, missed opportunity here. I guess we're just supposed to take it as a given that if original Vriska had had enough time, or grown up more, she could do the same thing to impressionable-enough humans as she did to trolls too, or the like.

(==>)

ALARMS BLARING, GUARDS RUNNING-- yeah they didn't cause this, this is some other assault on the Jail, right?

Okay, that's a lot of goons. You suggest to Vriska that you should go the other direction. Vriska says nah this is definitely where we wanna be. She says between the two of you, you've probably got enough luck to take this whole place off the map if you really wanted. You ask her what the fuck she means by that. She says you know like with your Thief of Light powers. You tell her you don't have anything like that. She says huh, weird!

VRISKA WHY THE FUCK WOULD IT BE WEIRD, VRISSY DIDN'T PLAY THE GAME OR GO GOD-TIER, YOU DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD LUCK-STEALING POWERS UNTIL YOU PLAYED THE GAME!!!

Wait, let's back up a sec.

Vriska is smart enough to know that you CAN tap into your Hero Title powers even if you're not someone who's hit God-Tier. As a gleaner of deep lore about the game, Vriska ALSO would put together that the powers you get in the game are inherent to you even before you PLAY the game if you're skilled enough or high up on your echeladder enough to access them, so even if she never Stole Light directly before she played Sgrub, she technically COULD have. Maybe she figures Vrissy, as a coincidental genetically identical alt-version of her, should have access to the same powers just by virtue of having the same genes and training from her Seer of Light Mom knowing she'd have that potential in her genetically, OR, hear me out--

Vriska has already let us know that she's PLANNING ON STARTING A NEW GAME SESSION which we all figure will include Vrissy and the other kids as the players, and Vriska probably figures those kids will be the players too!

So, and I know this is some 3D-chess assumption-maneuvering here and I might be way off base, just taking so much from this single exchange...

...My guess is that Vriska thinks Vrissy ought to ALREADY HAVE inherent Thief of Light powers deep inside her and untapped, because she thinks Vrissy is going to be a PLAYER and thus ALWAYS WOULD gain her powers! Powers which she, of course, would ASSUME would match hers given their genetic similarity-- she would ASSUME Vrissy would also be a Thief of Light.

Except that none of the way Vrissy has actually behaved has resembled a Thief of Light much at all, and Hero Titles are inherent to your PERSONALITY and its method of action of influencing reality around you... and we already have background hinting that matches MUCH closer to her character and her behavior/actions in dialogue with others that she may be a Mind player.

Vriska didn't scold Vrissy for not having tried hard enough to develop the Thief of Light abilities she ASSUMED were inherent to Vrissy. She instead seems confused that she's never manifested any, and said "huh, weird!". Despite the knots in her psychology, both Vriska's smarts and her hero title are likely hinting to her that there might be some flaw in her assumptions here-- something that's keeping this from being a sarcastic scolding and instead telling her something isn't right about the knowledge she thought she had at hand.

(==>)

Vriska says that's perfectly fine as she always prefers a challenge. Vriska Serket, the daring Thief of Light and her imitation kid Vriska sidekick against countless foes. Marquise Spinneret Mindfang leading her Neophyte Bluehair, it's a tale for th- w8 w8 hold the fuck up. You ask her what the fuck does she mean "imitation.

Of course, just because Vriska isn't going to be an asshole in that PARTICULAR direction was never any assurance that Vriska wasn't going to be an asshole. She still views (Vrissy) as the less important version of the original her, and she's still going to frame everything in that light because of course she would, it's still in her nature and she still hasn't fully learned her lesson yet.

(==>)

I'm at the image limit so I'm gonna hold off on posting Vriska's hilariously condescending greasy expression and Vrissy squinting hilariously absolutely having fucking none of it:

Vriska says to not let it get to you, but she's pretty much figured out that this whoooooooole timeline is phony. You know, inauthentic. Fake. Bogus even. She says it's somehow the off brand equivalent of a universe and she really hopes you kept the receipt. You assure her that both you and this timeline are in fact, real as shit. She doesn't seem convinced. She says it's mostly from the little things she's noticed. You ask like what, she's only been on this planet for like a day and a half. She gestures vaguely and tells you to give her a boost so she can reach that ventilation shaft.

Yeah, the way this version of reality isn't as tethered to Canon means Vriska isn't going to take it seriously-- she shares Dirk's view of the (Candy) timeline in that regard, really. And they BOTH are going to receive their comeuppance and learn their lesson.

Phew-- that image limit was a good sign, I was already hitting the limits of my energy for the day, that was hours of liveblogging and typing. I guess we'll leave off here until another day! As I said at the outset, I'm still going to be pacing myself and only doing liveblogging every few days like I mentioned, but that doesn't mean I'm not VERY MUCH enjoying this and very looking forward to where it's going. If I weren't liveblogging, I'd get there a lot faster, I assure you, but then you wouldn't get to see me go off on random Classpect tangents about stuff you already guessed! :D

See you in a few days!

[xcloudguardian]

Okay coz so far very few to none of the Movie events are canon events in the detective conan franchise. One of the biggest of these is Kaito knowing Conan's identity in the movies, yet it's not yet confirmed for the manga/anime.

HUGE SPOILER ALERT FOR MOVIE 27

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So movie 27 just dropped smth that probably shocked me the most. No, I was among those who sort of believe that toichi and yusaku are related. But still, having a theory you've been holding onto for a while getting confirmed IS A BIG THING. BIG I SAY.

But, going back to my first point, how much of the Movie canon so far are also considered to be main story canon?? Though I also doubt we'd just get a bomb that could never be more direct like that only for it to be called "movie canon only" later on.

Then again, that's one theory out of the way. Tho ig, it also somehow brought more questions like

1. Srsly yusaku, you've been married for almost 20 years and Yukiko knows nothing of this? He knows his brother is Kaito kid. They also showed that he knows "Kaito kid" was Yukiko and vermouth's disguise tutor. What's with u yusaku 😭

2. Can we confirm that Yusaku indeed knows the true identity of Kaito kid years ago?

3. Can we say then that the main reason he's not reporting/catching Kaito kid then is because he's his brother? 😂

4. Is yusaku aware of what actually happened to him? does he know whether his twin is alive or not? Are we getting another "my brother faked his death, gotta keep this secret from our other relatives". Are we getting an akai brothers situation, or the morofushi brothers'?? 🫠😭

5. Obviously toichi was aware of shinichi, which makes me doubt Yusaku doesn't have a knowledge about HIS own nephew (Kaito). But these brothers really kept each other's identity from their families omagdgxhskwlkq you're not convincing me they simply 'forgot' to tell. Given that tho, did yusaku check up on his brother's fam from time to time after the incident? Or no coz he knows toichi is looking after them (supposing he knows he's alive and looking in the shadows xD)

6. Is yusaku aware that his nephew Kaito is the current Kaito kid??

Bonus:

7. Did toichi really just stole a sword, a national artifact, and gave it as a gift to his brother? 😂

edit: (the following items are things that popped into me as I read this again)

8. did yusaku use this twin telepathic powers or smth when trying to figure out kaito kid’s move, or that was just the two of them with their own pure and high intellect 😂

I feel like I have a lot more to add on the list ( I DID add more 😂) but that's roughly it. I hope they'd reveal everything to us clearly one day coz, I just finished watching the movie and I swear it was awesome. But that after credit was really just a huge bomb to me that it ain't leaving my mind, hence this blog too xDD aoyama-san you little—

[calxvace]

Scaramouche develops a habit whenever Aether is leaving. Insisting him to stay, Aether notices it. — #scaraether

scaramouche visibly grazing the back of his neck: p-please stay a bit longer…

Aether tidies up pretending not to see this new habit of Scara: That's your third time saying that, look I’ll be back in a couple or few days, you will see me again.

Scaramouche: But Aether, …forget it. I'll see you.

Aether: What's wrong Kuni?

Scaramouche shoos him away hiding the back of his neck: Nothing, go with your way you'll be late, no one likes unpunctual people.

Aether pulling Scaramouche's scratching hands away from his neck: Then what is this, every time I’m going away, I can see you digging your nails.

Scara scoffed immediately pulling his arms away from Aether's grasp and covers the back of his neck: That's why you insisted to care for my fingernails earlier.

Aether: You can tell me anything, I’ll help you if I could.

Scaramouche: And if I told you your presence is all the help I need, will you stay?

Aether sighing while slowly trying to get a good look on Scara's neck: ...

Scaramouche: Knew I should've not got my hopes up.

Aether: Can you please just tell me what is happening, why do you hurt- why do you do that?

Scaramouche: you're my maintenance Aether

Aether: What do you mean?

Scaramouche: Every time you are here, I feel all well and better, but when I know you're leaving I’m starting feel that holes are being punched through my skin, I’m reminded of my past-

Aether: Oh my- Scaramouche I-

Scaramouche: And I dig my nails through my skin just to check if my skin is still intact. I’m sorry Aether I’m being too-

Aether: Ssshhh no. I know what you've been through and what you're fighting for its okay.

Scaramouche: Now that I’ve said it, I feel like I have burdened you to stay…

Aether: No, no, not at all, will you look at me please? you're the least subject on being a burden to me, you're not even qualified. well, how about this, you come with me to liyue?

Scaramouche: I really dont-

Aether: Last one to arrive at liyue harbor's a loser!

Scaramouche: Ha- hey wait! Aether! dont carry my things I’ll do it!

Aether shouting from a distance: Then hurry and catch up! you don’t want to be a loser, right?

Scaramouche sprinting towards Aether: The least thing I could possibly want to be labelled as!

Aether: Oh no I forgot he can fly!

Scaramouche announces getting way ahead of Aether: loser will kiss the winner, I’m going to wait for my kiss Aether!

bonus!

Aether watching the water ripple as scaramouche lands: well, hi loser

Scaramouche clearly shocked: what the- HOW?!

Aether giggles knowing he used one of the teleporters: I don’t know, luck?

Little lulu: Is your name really loser?

Litte meng: Lulu that's rude!

Scara: Yes, kid that's rude how about its your name now huh?

Little fei: Big brother that's not nice either!

Scara: Whatever, now scram!

Little lulu: But I was just going to ask if you want to be our new captain!

Scara: No.

Little meng: Please?

Scara: I said no kid. Aether can you tell this three I’m not-

Ningguang: How about I bring a friend who's really a captain next time? We're sorry but I’m going to borrow them first

Kids: Yay!

Scara: Thank god

Ningguang: No thank me, now Aether I see you brought more help now it’s easier to clean the jade chamber

Scara: clean? Wait where's the kids? Hey! here's your captain arr!

[lemonlilactea]

okay this WILL be a much longer work i can feel in my bones but heres just the first part of whatever hell i have created for myself

There are days where phantom pains aren’t something she can ignore. Not the usual twinge, the everyday throb of pain she’s learned to handle. Some days, she wakes up and has to bite into the pillow to avoid screaming. It feels like it did the day her arm was taken, the day her mother proved every suspicion correct, the day V realized she was the only thing protecting herself. The pain, the memories, everything is just too much, and she just has to take it, frantically grabbing the pain pills from her bedside with her ‘ganic arm. Days like this, the metal doesn’t feel like her, and it burns to even move it. It adds a layer of frustration, anger, even. She and Vince worked so fucking hard on the stupid thing, spending weeks to make it perfect, to make it hers, and it still just….isn’t. 

It’s been a long time since the last, but a bad episode with the biochip seems to aggravate something and they wake up screaming. Blinding pain, a ringing in her ears, flashes of the serrated blade, her hand shaking as she knocks the stupid pills off the bed. She can faintly feel Johnny, or hear. Her fingers blindly wrap around a handful of pills, desperately swallowing them down and finding whatever the hell liquid is nearest to wash it down. The burn in her throat hints at whiskey, but it helps distract her, so it’s a bonus at this point. V curls into a ball on the bed, metal arm dangling off the side, as her body trembles, her eyes pressed shut until the wave of flashbacks forces them open, darting around to find anything to focus on. Johnny flickers into view, and her eyes find him in an instant, meeting in a matched sort of panic and yet familiarity. She sucks a breath between her teeth and wonders how often he felt this with his arm, if he did. What happened to him? Would he ever tell her the truth, if he even remembered it? She never told him about hers, he never asked, never said he knew, either. As the pills start to kick in, slowly but surely, her breathing evens out and her heart starts to slow. The pain is still there, her left arm dangling like a dead weight, but it feels less like she’s tied to a stake and burnt alive now. 

“Johnny?” 

Her voice is weak, and she hates how small she sounds, how she must look. She expects something like his usual reactions, a bit of concern but hidden behind that bullshit ‘I don’t give a fuck’ facade, the one they both use these days. But when his image flickers beside the bed, she can see something in his eyes. It’s new, something warm that feels like home, something she wonders if he can see mirrored in her own eyes. She hopes so. 

“Scared the shit out of me, wakin’ up like that. Thought we were kickin the bucket, til..” Johnny sighs, glancing at the metal of her arm shining in the neon from the window. “Forgot that feeling, yknow? Good thing about not bein’ real, I guess.” 

“You too, huh?” With a sigh, V shifts to sit, facing him, watching the way light shimmers through his engram image. “Did it get this bad for you? Screaming and all that shit?” 

“Sometimes. Usually too whacked out of my mind on somethin’ to feel anything, mind you.” 

A spike of pain goes up her arm and for a moment, V grits her teeth and stares out the window, burning neon signs into her eyes to try and somehow stop the feeling. She doesn’t catch the way Johnny’s face falls, a moment of real care, hidden again by the time she leans against the wall, curling her legs into herself on the bed. “Never told me what happened.” Her eyes are lowered, tracing the pattern of the stupid little heart tattoo on her arm. 

“Neither did you.” 

“Yeah, guess I didn’t.” A long moment of silence fills the space, the only noise the rain against the glass and the ever present hum of electrical devices. “....It was Raffen Shiv. A raid on the clan when I was a kid, like, 13 maybe?” Her eyes never leave the tattoo on her skin but she can feel his burning a hole in her, that strange buzz of his rapt attention. “Got cornered and unlucky, I guess.” 

A snort of a laugh causes V to look at Johnny sharply, and he shakes his head. “Look, if we’re swapping stories, fine. Don’t lie about it, I can tell, fuckin gonk.” 

“Fuck you too. What, want the nitty gritty, or can’t I keep some shit to myself? I never said you had to tell me fuck all, anyway.” She rolls her eyes and with an annoyed sigh, leans her head against the wall to close her eyes. It’s quiet again, and for a second she wonders if he decided to actually fuck off. 

“Second Central American War. Same conflict as the guy who’s tags you got.” Her hand finds the metal at her neck before her eyes even open again, seeing it’s Johnny’s turn to look away, avoiding eye contact. Easier like this, sometimes, for them both to open up. “Honestly, can’t remember much detail other than the pain, memory is shitty anyway from everything I took to try ‘n deal with it.” 

“It’d be nice to not remember. Oughta take a page from your book, try and swallow as many pills as I can to make it go away.” She meant it as a joke, mostly. But the look in his eyes is almost harsh. 

“What, wanna end up turning into me sooner?” The tone is sharp, taking both of them a little by surprise, judging by his face. V tries to tamp down the anger that rises and chews on her lip for a moment. 

“Not what I mean. Forget it, alright? Not gonna start making cocktails with drugs to chase em. Just…..fuck, I’m tired of days like this. Sick of waking up to the same memory over and over, the stupid pain I shouldn’t even be able to feel.” Again, there’s a weakness in her voice that she hates to hear, and knows nobody alive has ever listened to. Not technically alive, anyway. 

“Y’know I haven’t…I didn’t dig around in your head as much as you think. Can’t, really. Only goes so far, but I never thought to check what happened. Figured you might tell me, or it didn’t matter, whatever.” 

She shakes her head and sighs, her right hand rubbing across the rough scarring above the metal on her left arm, just above the elbow, the skin years healed but clearly heavily damaged. “Wish it didn’t matter to me. It’d be easier if it was nothing, or just a regular raid, hell, even a stupid accident would’ve been better. Didn’t just lose my arm, though. Lost any kind of hope that I had a mother. While she was making sure Vince was safe, I was hunted down and treated like meat for the Raffen. Took my arm, said they’d take the rest too, that my arm was just for fun. Luckily they got run off by the clan before they could take more.”  

[valentineluvr]

when you get a tiny injury on ur hand..

sunoo x gn!reader!

tw: mentions of food, small injuries on one’s hand

- sunoo is still at the dance studio practicing the bite me choreo

- UR BOY IS HARD AT WORK! WORKING HARD TO PLEASE U AND ENGENE!

- so u decided to prepare a cute little homemade dinner meal for the both of u :) SPAGHETTI!!

- easy to prepare. tasty. u cant go wrong with it.

- u were probably like trying to get the tomato sauce jar open when oops!

- ur finger gets cut by the metal lid ☹️

- it’s like. super tiny tho. so u don’t really pay much mind to it. just slap on a bandaid and we r all good!

- sunoo gets home and when u reach up to kiss and cup his face that reads exhaustion, he feels a plasticky film on his cheek?

- immediately his eyes widen and he is all alert fretting over you when he sees that little brown bandaid wrapped around your pointer finger

- “hello?? when did this happen? are you okay? have you cleaned it? why didn’t you text meeee~~”

- ur just giggling at how worried he looks over u and how he’s rapping questions at godseed wondering how ur clumsy ass got hurt again

- after reassuring him that it was just a tiny cut and it’s absolutely nothing to worry about, his fretful eyes that were glued onto ur figure then fixated onto the 2 steaming plates of spaghetti on the coffee table!

- he perks up seeing the dish, letting out a tiny gasp at the visuals (u did really well preparing it good job!!)

- he got so excited learning that u cooked for him, that he nearly forgot to go shower and wash up first!!!! sweet boy was so touched :’)

- after a hasty shower, he comes back to find u cozy on the couch flicking through netflix shows

- he lets out a sigh of relief after getting to sit down, but then going alert again seeing the still bandaged finger on the remote control.

- “no. honey let me do all the work. don’t put any stress on your hand.” “it was basically just a paper cut—-“ “I DONT WANNA HEAR IT!!”

- best believe that he fed u the spaghetti that u cooked, even though he was excited to gobble his own plate up :( he prioritized taking care of u first :(((

- pouting the entire time u tell him how u got the cut

- “my poor baby :( we are throwing out the jar that hurt u”

- u hoped that he was focusing on the spaghetti instead of the growing pink tint on ur cheeks. he got so close to ur face it made u flustered! he was so sweet taking care of u too SIGH

- he did that thing where he put his hand under the fork to make sure nothing falls out. wipes away any stray sauce left at the corners of ur mouth if u had a big mouthful.

- I WNAT HIM 😭😭😭

- honestly he took ur small cut as an excuse to take care of u :(

- u guys go to sleep with ur tummies full, hearts full, blushing cheeks and bandaged finger!

- bonus: he wakes up in the middle of the night just remembering that u forgot to change ur bandaid…. u looked so peaceful sleeping, he didn’t want to wake u up so he changed it for u as gently as possible!

- pulls out a princess bandaid from the bedside table and peels off ur old bandaid as gently as he can and puts the new one on!

- and then he presses a tiny kiss to ur finger :(((( and then reaches up and presses another onto ur forehead before wrapping his arms around you

- if only he stayed awake to feel your hot cheeks and smile against his neck (u woke up as soon as he shifted away from u to grab a bandaid)

a/n: first post kinda nervous! i love having delusional thoughts i hope whoever reads this enjoys it hehe

[vivi-in-the-sky-with-diamonds]

John's SFW Alphabet

(photo from ??, forgot again, ik I suck)

Hello, loves! This was due yesterday but I just couldn't bring myself to get on my laptop (I was feeling quite sick with a headache) lol. Will hopefully post again tomorrow to get back on schedule. This is the sequel to this post. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Mr. Lennon is not the most affectionate guy in the world. He shows his affection sometimes, but he’s not big on PDA. Enjoys kissing a little too much.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

John’s one of those best friends where you question how you’re even still friends with him. You’ve probably known him so long, you forgot exactly how you met.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

As much as he hates to admit it, John is more cuddly than one would imagine. He loves it when you “cradle” him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

John’s leans less toward the idea of settling down. If he really really liked you, he’d consider it more. Secretly enjoys baking bread.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Unfortunately, he’s the type to rip off the band-aid. He’d hate to see them upset, but he’d say it’s for the best.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Like I said before, he leans less toward the idea of marriage and settling down. If he did end up marrying you, it’d be a while before he did.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Somewhere in the middle, but usually more gentle physically than emotionally.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

John is conflicted on whether or not he likes hugs. It depends on the person and how close they are. More than likely has a soft spot for your hugs.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Not as fast as you’d like. He doesn’t want to make the mistake of saying it to someone who won’t say it back.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

This man’s natural skin colour may as well be green. Can be quite angry when he’s in a jealous mood.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sloppy. He always just goes for it. Loves to kiss you on your lips and neck and basically anywhere else. Loves to be kissed on his neck and nose. Bonus: please do not kiss his stomach without a compliment prepared because he will get in his feelings about his weight (poor baby).

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Somewhat okay with children. Kids tend to flock to him, and he doesn’t understand why.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

John spends a lot of mornings songwriting. To involve you, he’ll practice them on his guitar, with you singing.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

A lot of nights are spent by the radio, either listening to a programme or dancing.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

This man is a closed book, locked up tight. You have to be really, really close before he starts opening up.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

John has quite a short fuse. It’s longer with you, but with everyone else, he could explode at any given moment.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

John remembers the big things like birthdays, anniversaries, etc., but tends to forget some of the smaller things.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The day you finally agreed to go out with him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Extremely protective. Will keep a crowbar on standby to defend you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

John puts in effort, but probably not as much as you’d like.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Bites his nails excessively.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not extremely concerned but more so than you’d think. When his hair is shorter, he likes to make sure it’s tidy, but once it grows out, he cares slightly less.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Probably, unless your relationship ends up being short and casual.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

John sleeps with socks on. Keeps his feet warm :)

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

John’s open to just about anything. Very much hates when anyone mentions his weight.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Similarly to Paul, John also sleeps like a rock. Likes to wear matching pyjamas. Stomach sleeper through and through. Definitely takes up half the bed.