#someone recommend coping mechanisms
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walmart-miku · 1 year ago
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in light of the current depressing air surrounding bsd Canon I have decided to make character ai chuuya confess his love for dazai.
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As you can see, I was successful :D
I will take recommendations on who to do next as well as ships to do
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inkskinned · 2 years ago
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there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)
i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.
i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.
and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.
HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.
now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.
my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.
i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.
by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!
keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"
similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."
the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"
if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.
the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.
godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.
the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.
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The whole "if your therapist tells you that using fiction as a way to cope is healthy, they're bad!!!" is so funny to me because that's literally all therapists. Not all of them will recommend using fiction as a tool to cope, but they know that it is a great coping mechanism.
Also how entitled you have to be to think that you, a teenager who can't even do basic algebra properly, knows more than someone who dedicated years of their lives to study psychology?? Do antis genuinely think they know more than therapists???
A Reddit post and a slideshow on TikTok is not reliable information for such a complex topic.
It's actually disheartening to watch kids think they know more than people with whole degrees.
Psychologists/therapists have years upon years of incredibly expensive and rather in-depth education and training. Any highschooler who thinks they know more than them need to get off their high horse. I doubt most of them have ever even taken a psychology-centric course in their lifetimes.
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sleepyparalysisdmon · 1 month ago
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Ah! Love
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Yoon Jeonghan isn't told 'no' often - or ever, really. So, when his friends set him up to get turned down, his ego is shattered. But his friends didn't realize they just introduced him to his new partner in crime.
Pairing: Jeonghan x female reader Genres: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fake dating, college au, idiots to lovers
Word count: 50k
TW/CW: MDNI! Contains smut with no protection mentioned (be safe please!!), under-aged drinking, alcoholism, implications of abuse and neglect (but no specific descriptions), food, mental health struggles.
A/N: The way these characters are written in no way indicates reality as this is entirely a work of fiction. This whole thing was just one big coping mechanism for recent events... please enjoy!!!
Recommended playlist: Ah! Love by Seventeen; Can't Get You by Jaehyun; Bonnie & Clyde by Yuqi
(pssst... this has a little one shot called I saw this and thought of you.)
Act One
It’s nearly 1am when Y/N parks her car. She should have been home a while ago, but thanks to someone calling in, she was asked to work a few extra hours today. Not like it was hard, but there’s only so much to do at the reference desk at the campus library on a Friday night. The semester hasn’t even started yet, but the stupid university policy said that the library had to be staffed 24/7 except for holidays.
She was just thankful that one of her coworkers had the good sense to hide a phone charger in the bottom of a desk drawer. It had come in handy tonight when she’d finished her book. The university library had a less than impressive fiction collection to pick from. 
But now, Y/N was irritated again because her designated parking spot at her apartment complex was taken. In fact, every single spot was taken. Someone must have been hosting a party to celebrate before the start of the semester. This complex was mostly occupied by students, but damn, didn’t they know how to read signs, such as RESERVED? So she was parked on the street half a block away.
Y/N yanked the key out of the ignition and had her hand on the door handle when a loud laugh made her jump back. A group of guys were walking down the sidewalk towards her and they’d clearly been drinking. Not interested in facing them (whether out of self-preservation or to spare them her mood), she sat back in her seat, biting her nail and waiting patiently (read: Not Patiently At All). They seemed to be taking their sweet time. As they walk under street lights, she thinks she might recognize one or two of them from campus over the years, but that doesn’t mean much. The university has a huge student body.
One of them stops, a muffled, “Hold on,” coming through the car window. He steps towards the front passenger side of her car. His hands go to his pants. He’s - 
He’s peeing on her car. 
Her jaw drops. A car passes by and in the headlights she can see who it is. She unfortunately knows him - or knows of him, anyway. It’s Yoon Jeonghan. 
Her jaw is now tight, gritting teeth together painfully. Before she can think, her hand is on the center of the steering wheel, pressing sharply. The horn blasts for a split second and the only thing that makes this situation any better is the panic that flashes across his face. He jumps back, zipping himself up, waving and shouting a quick “Sorry!” Then he’s off, practically sprinting. His friends follow, but between the drinks and the laughter, they’re sluggish.
Y/N waits until they’re around the corner before she gets out of her car.
The next morning, Y/N finds Vernon at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal. He doesn’t look up from the game on his phone when she walks in and goes straight for the coffee. “Didn’t hear you come in last night.”
Y/N grunted as she slid into a seat across from him. He pushed her a bowl and spoon, along with a box of sugary cereal. “Yeah, I didn’t get back until 1. Had to park on the street.” Vernon hums, but she’s not sure he’s really listening or cares. “By the way, do you know if the complex has a water hose or something near the parking lot?”
Now he’s listening, though he still doesn’t look up. His eyebrows are scrunched. “Water hose? I don’t know. Why? Why not go through a car wash? There’s one around the corner.”
“I don’t need a whole car wash for my piece of shit car. Just enough to wash the urine off of my tire.”
Vernon bites back a laugh. “Someone pissed on your car?” He’s obviously amused. 
“Yoon Jeonghan did.”
Now his laughter resembles the squeak of a windshield wiper. This was nothing new - Vernon finding Y/N’s bad luck hilarious. Normally, she’d let it go because he had a laugh that made her laugh. She did not find it funny right now. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mumbled, stuffing some cereal in her mouth to bite back any further comments.
Vernon wiped his eyes. “How do you even know it was him?”
“Because I was in the car when it happened.” Another bite of cereal for Y/N and another wheeze from Vernon. For the rest of the morning, Vernon would glance at her before falling into another fit of laughter. Y/N opted to escape by going back to bed. 
Jeonghan joins his friends in the student union at lunch on Monday. Classes started this morning but he’s not stressing it so far. After all, he’s only had one class and it’s already 1pm. Tomorrow might be another story based on his class schedule, but he’ll worry about that… tomorrow.
Across from him, Mingyu is talking about the girl he hooked up with on Friday night. Jeonghan’s not really listening because he’s too busy scarfing down his third slice of pizza. 
Seungcheol tells the story of his hookup on Saturday night. It becomes a competition between Seungcheol and Mingyu and they keep glancing at Jeonghan as he stuffs his face with more pizza, challenging him to jump in. He usually would, but he’s not terribly interested today.
Besides, they all know he didn’t go home after the party on Friday. He walked with them back to campus and ended up in the dorm room of one of the many girls he kept in rotation. All it took was one text and five minutes later she was signing him in at the front desk of her dorm as a guest. He signed himself out at the front desk afterwards because it was clear she wasn’t up to moving anytime soon. Between that and how satisfied she looked, he was pretty happy with the night as he walked back home. He doesn’t feel the need to brag anymore. His reputation precedes him. 
When it becomes apparent that Jeonghan isn’t taking the bait, they turn on Joshua. “How’s your girlfriend?” The word ‘girlfriend’ comes out as more of a sneer when Mingyu says it. Out of the whole group, Joshua seems to be the only one that believes in the concept, or at least puts it to any genuine practice.
Joshua met her while shadowing at the hospital a few years ago when he was still trying to pick a major. His crush was massive and they all teased him relentlessly about it. But after seeing how lovesick their friend was, they actually encouraged him to ask her out. They knew Joshua wasn’t a huge fan of anything casual. He’d rarely hooked up before meeting his current girlfriend anyway. Jeonghan is happy for him, he really is, but he’s still very perplexed at the dopey smile that overtakes his friend’s face at the mere mention of her. 
“She’s good. We volunteered at the animal shelter on Saturday and then went out to dinner.” He says this with such an innocent grin that some scoff or roll their eyes. Jeonghan just smiles and shakes his head. They should know by now that Joshua is just that kind of person. Even if he wasn’t, all this girl would have to do is ask because he’s totally wrapped around her finger. Again, very perplexing. Jeonghan couldn’t imagine what that was like.
Jihoon is not one of those people that scoffs at Joshua though. He shakes his head disappointedly at the others and then looks at Joshua directly. “They’re just jealous. They wouldn’t know how to even get into a relationship, much less hold one down as long as you have.”
Joshua seems totally unfazed with his stupid smile, but Seungcheol barks out a laugh. “It can’t be that hard. Mingyu and I both have had long-term things.” He pointedly ignores Jihoon's correction - a not-so-subtle mumble of ‘situationship’ disguised under a cough. Dating was a very loose term for them, never that serious and really just for a predictable amount of sex in the end. When they got their fill, it was over at the snap of a finger. “Besides, it’s Jeonghan that couldn’t do it at all.”
Jeonghan chuckles, “What makes you think that?”
The silence is deafening for only a moment before his friends start giggling. Mingyu bangs his fist on the table. Seungcheol is shaking his head in disbelief. Jihoon is sliding down in his chair and covering his face. Even Joshua is smiling like he’s trying to contain a laugh. 
Which is not a good time for Chan, the poor unsuspecting freshman that they’ve taken under their wing, to slide into a seat at the table. He looks like he’s afraid to ask. When he makes eye contact with Jeonghan, he’s really afraid to ask. 
Jeonghan scoffs. “I don’t know what’s so funny. I could date anytime I want. I just don’t want to,” he yells near the end to be heard over his friends.
Seungcheol’s still shaking his head, but this time it has a purpose. “No, I’m sorry, man. I haven’t seen you so much as go on a single date since high school. Everybody knows your pattern. You sweet talk some poor girl at a party to get her home and then as soon as it’s over, you say ‘This was nice, but I’m not interested in anything more’.” 
The words sting because it’s accurate, right down to the phrasing Jeonghan usually uses. Seungcheol must have heard some of these awkward morning-after conversations before at their apartment. Jeonghan is used to Seungcheol cheering him on in his pursuits. It felt like a skill then, one that he was very good at. A little locker room talk is normal, right? It’s another thing entirely for his best friend of nearly 15 years to turn it all around and say he can’t do the opposite. That his skills are a hindrance to it. That he’s just not capable of it.
Joshua must have sensed his friend’s discomfort because he tries to smooth it over. “Han, all he’s trying to say is that you’ve never even expressed interest in pursuing someone seriously and you shoot down anyone that approaches you for more than sex. When you do want to date, there might be a bit of a learning curve. That’s all.”
Jeonghan doesn’t know how to respond because he’s totally floored by the whole situation. Since when did not wanting anything serious become a problem? Jeonghan likes having fun. He likes having something new often. When did they stop understanding that?
The minutes tick by slowly, especially when his friends are still talking about it long after Chan has finished his lunch. They’ve emptied their trays and left the student union and they’re still talking about it. They’re half-way across campus and they’re still talking about it. Details about how shameless he’s been, how brutal he’s been about his rejections, how he’s won so many bets and completed so many dares over the last few years. His record is starting to sound like a bad thing when they were high-fiving him about it a week ago.
Mingyu turns around, walking backwards so he can face Jeonghan with a taunting smile. “I can’t believe you think you can do it.”
“I can,” Jeonghan says, now completely bitter because it doesn’t come off as confidently as he would have liked. It’s not like him to accept that he can’t do something. He likes pushing limits. He likes to toe the line. Mingyu’s face right now makes him want to jump clean across the line just to prove him wrong. The words spill out. “I can prove it.” 
This gets all of his friends attention. Seungcheol’s smirk is so fucking irritating when he says, “And how are you going to do that?” 
Jeonghan’s jaw clenches. He’s burned a lot of bridges as he’s formed this reputation. There are a lot of women that hate him - have yelled at him, slapped him, bad mouthed him, or just plain sobbed in front of him. Besides the last one, that was usually pretty amusing. There are also a lot of men that hate him too, likely because he’s ghosted their friend or sister. That’s a little less amusing when he has to dodge a fight. He’s not a coward when it comes to a fight, but he feels like there’s nothing to defend because he’s done nothing wrong. He’s never promised anyone a date and it’s not his fault when someone assumes that he will. But now he’s very determined to prove that he can do anything he wants with anyone at anytime because they’ll happily let him. That includes dating. “Pick anyone. I’ll make it happen.”
His friends raise their eyebrows as they look at him. They’ve now stopped in the quad and stepped off the path into the grass. Jeonghan grows impatient with their stares. He waves his hand around the quad. “Pick.” 
Mingyu and Seungcheol are the only ones that start looking around with any sort of seriousness. They must find something that makes them happy because they look at each other and smirk. When they turn to Jeonghan, their expressions make his stomach turn, but he’s determined not to show it. 
Mingyu points across the quad to a figure. Their target is a girl he’s seen in some of his English classes before but her name escapes him. All he knows is that she’s is a major bookworm, usually having stacks of books on her desk that aren’t even for a class. The only reason he’s noticed it is because he’s heard others laugh and whisper about it - which he found ironic because they were all English majors. You shouldn't pick that major if you hate to read. A errant frisbee flies within five feet of her and she doesn’t flinch. He’s never talked to her. 
“Let’s start by getting her to agree to go out with you first.” Mingyu’s clearly enjoying this and Jeonghan’s fists clench in his pockets to resist hitting him. 
“And what do I get out of this?” It won’t be a girlfriend, at least not in anyway that matters. He does want something besides his pride back though.
“$100 if you can get her to agree to go on a date with you. Another $100 if you can get her to agree to be your girlfriend. Another $100 if you can make that last three months.” Seungcheol states the terms, looking rather smug about it. He expects Jeonghan to back down. The whole concept of dating is absolutely not his style and $300 doesn’t seem worth the trouble. Seungcheol’s probably giving a lowball offer on purpose. But Jeonghan is desperate to retain some pride and composure. 
Jeonghan’s feet are moving before he even realizes it. He slaps Seungcheol on the shoulder for good measure as he passes. 
Y/N is quite literally a page away from finishing her chapter when a shadow casts over her. She glances up and suppresses a groan. “Can I sit here?” She slides over to the edge of the bench and tries to refocus on her book and remain unaffected. However, her mind has alarm bells are going off.
Why the fuck is Yoon Jeonghan sitting next to her?
She prayed he didn’t recognize her from Friday night. She did not want to have that conversation - or any really - with him. But she could not think of a single other reason why he would be here right now. 
“You look familiar. Have we had classes together before?” 
She glances up, if only for a brief moment to make her answer convincing. “Maybe.” She knows she’s had classes with him. He doesn’t need the ego boost by knowing she’s paid any attention to him though. He gets enough of that from everyone else.
He sticks out his hand. “I’m Jeonghan. I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself in any of those classes before.”
Y/N stares for a second, internally cursing the manners that are ingrained in her. She’s going to have to shake his hand, if only to remain polite for now. She mutters her name, reaching out to his hand. His hand dwarves hers, long fingers wrapping around her hand, but his touch is soft and warm. It surprises her only momentarily before she’s remembering all the reasons why she wants to avoid him. She’s relieved to have her book clutched in both hands again to ground her. She will not be falling for his charms today, or ever.
“I’ll get straight to the point, since I interrupted you. Would you like to go on a date with me?” He says gently, but there’s the usual amount of arrogance in his expression. Like he knows what she’s going to say. Y/N bets he usually gets the answer he wants. Y/N presses her lips together, feeling uncomfortable for so many reasons.
“Oh. That’s nice of you, but no thank you.”
Jeonghan blinks a few times, then his eyebrows furrow. “Uh. What?”
Y/N closes her book and stares at him. Why now? They’ve shared classes for three years now. Their schedules have aligned an irritating number of times and he’s never so much as glanced her way. Not that she would have ever fallen for this, even as a naive freshman three years ago. “I said, no thank you. I’m not interested.”
“Not interested?” He says this slowly, like the words don't make sense to him. Maybe they don’t. Word on campus is that he doesn’t hear them often. Or perhaps ever from the expression on his face. But there’s a first for everything, right? This must be one for him. “Can I ask why?”
There’s a loud cackle across the quad and it gets both of their attentions. It’s the guys that were with Jeonghan on Friday night. They seem to be enjoying whatever show Jeonghan is putting on for them. 
Ah, okay. That tracks. Y/N scoffs, standing to put her book in her bag. “Do I need a reason? Besides, I’m sure there are many others that will fall for the dare or bet that they’ve put you up to.”
Jeonghan kind of looks like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing a few times. He’s glancing fast between her and his friends. “What? That’s not…” 
“Sure seems that way,” she cuts off, trying to keep her voice even, but it’s challenging. “And you’d have to make me a pretty damn good offer to agree. You should tell them to be more subtle if you really want to use this tactic on some poor unsuspecting victim.” Y/N isn’t sure why she isn’t walking away right now.
Jeonghan is standing now, but he looks totally out of his element, none of his normal confidence and arrogance present. It actually makes her want to smirk, but even she feels a little bad about how loudly his friends are laughing across the quad. Second-hand embarrassment is a very real thing and she was starting to experience it. “Have I done something to you?” It sounds a little defensive.
Y/N narrows her eyes at him. “It says something if you have to ask that, Jeonghan. But no, you have not. I’m really just not interested. I have to get to class. Have a good day.”
She passes by the group of guys and doesn’t make eye contact. Kim Mingyu is there and this really does seem just like the kind of thing he’d be involved in. She almost feels sorry for Jeonghan again, but then she remembers the arrogant smirk he usually wears and the way he was confused by the word ‘no’. Almost sorry, but not quite. He could stand to be taken down a peg every now and then and Y/N was happy to be the one to do it today.
Jeonghan didn’t wait around to find out just how funny his friends found whatever the fuck just happened. Getting turned down was something he wasn’t used to and his friends’ laughter across the quad just rubbed salt in the wound. He’d also pointedly ignored the group chat for the rest of the day. Even Joshua was being iced out. When Joshua sent Jeonghan a message apologizing outside of the group chat, Jeonghan just gave it a thumbs up and nothing else. 
However, by the afternoon he realized he needed to save some face. Y/N may have said no, but many others would say yes. And despite his shock, he had heard what she said back in the quad. His friends would be a detriment to whatever plan he tried because they couldn’t hide their amusement. He sent a single text when he got home and a girl arrived at the apartment he and Seungcheol shared a little after 8pm. When he let her in, he passed by all of his friends in the living room, drinking beer and playing video games. Perfect. Uninvolved in the plan, but present for the show.
He’d picked this girl because she’s loud in bed and seemingly not embarrassed about it. After sex though, he realized that she’s just loud all the time. He decides he can’t ask her to go on a date, much less hang out with her for three months as her boyfriend. He wasn’t sure what she was talking about as he pulled on some clothes, but he interrupted her to tell her he had an 8am class the next day and he’d see her out. She took the hint and began getting dressed. There was no 8am, but he wanted whatever this was to end promptly. He also wouldn’t be reaching out to her again.
He was still icing his friends out but Jeonghan was satisfied with the expressions on their faces as he went back to his room after seeing the chatterbox out. They could make comments about his dating habits, or lack thereof, but they couldn’t say he didn’t know what he was doing in every other way. They’d had to listen to the evidence of it. 
That eased his mind until the next day. At lunch, they made it clear they hadn’t forgotten about his rejection the day before. He was thankful that all except for Joshua had a class soon after so his suffering wasn’t prolonged like yesterday. As soon as the others were far enough away, Joshua frowned at Jeonghan. “I’m sorry. I told them to let it go, but you know how they are.”
“Unfortunately, I do,” Jeonghan mumbled, unable to meet his friend’s eyes. He stuffed his hands in his pockets uncomfortably as they start walking. 
“For what it's worth, they set you up anyway.” 
Now, that got Jeonghan’s attention. “What do you mean?”
“She’s friends with Mingyu’s roommate, Wonwoo. They knew she’d shut you down.” 
Oh. Now it was making sense. He remembers how smug Seungcheol and Mingyu had looked when they’d spotted Y/N. Jeonghan had met Wonwoo many times over the years. Mingyu and Wonwoo shared a lot of classes and seemed to get along as roommates, but Wonwoo was never very interested in joining them when they went out. They’d stopped extending the invitation after a while. Mingyu said his roommate would rather be home reading or playing video games anyway.
“Are they close? Y/N and Wonwoo?” Jeonghan wasn’t totally sure why he was asking. Maybe he wanted to know who she would say yes to, if not him. He’d like to think he checks a lot of boxes for women, but… she must be a unique case. Maybe if he knew who she would date, it would make him feel better. 
“Seem to be. Mingyu said they’ve known each other for a long time, since they were little I think. Y/N’s apartment is apparently where Wonwoo goes when Mingyu brings guests over.” Guests, meaning girls - Joshua was just too polite to say it. Jeonghan had a similar system with Seungcheol when he wasn’t trying to prove a point. Basic roommate etiquette and all that.
“Don’t sweat it too much, okay? It’s a single rejection. I don’t condone the bets or dares, you know that, but I know I can’t stop you guys there. There are plenty of other girls on campus if you’re really serious about this. Just be careful.” With that, Joshua turned towards his class and walked away. Jeonghan was almost late because of how distracted he was. 
He had to let go of this if only for his sanity. Joshua was right - it was a single rejection. The only one in his entire high school and college careers. It was a blip on the radar. A small infraction on an otherwise perfect record. It wasn’t like he’d have to see her anyway. He’d only had a few classes with her and even if he did have to see her he’d just avoid her until he wasn’t feeling so wounded by the whole thing. No big deal. He can breathe easier with that realization. 
Whatever high Jeonghan had been riding since Tuesday comes crashing down at approximately 4:30pm on Thursday afternoon. He was almost late to his Tales of Villainy literature class. Though he was on a pre-law track, he was technically an English major and had to fulfill a certain number of literature credit hours to graduate in the spring. Of all the options offered this semester, this one seemed like the most tolerable. 
Oh, right. Except that the first person he lays eyes on when he walks into the classroom is none other than Y/N. And the only seat left open is the one directly behind her. He bites back a curse and almost leaves. He’s considering just dropping the class and figuring it out later, but the instructor is already looking at him from the podium, waiting to start. Jeonghan silently sits down in the seat behind her. He knows he can’t drop because he’s on a tight schedule to graduate. If Y/N noticed him, she doesn’t show it. 
He does his best to focus on what the instructor is saying. What tests and essays there will be. What works they’ll be reading and when. What kind of participation he wants to see in class. Jeonghan prays that all of this is in the syllabus he blankly glances at occasionally because he’s taking very little of it in right now. 
The truth is he feels like a fucking teenager, because he can’t stop glancing at the girl in front of him. He’s noticing things that he’d normally not notice or give much thought to when it comes to girls. Usually, he’s looking at their bodies and how much skin he can see, or how they’re looking at him. Specific features have never mattered much or held his attention because it all feels the same in the end.
So it’s totally unfair that he’s transfixed by her. The way her hair falls in her face when she leans down to write something with a stupid purple glitter pen. Or the doodling she’s doing in the margins, which mostly consists of a bunch of little suns and moons. Or the smell of her perfume which is some kind of blend of lavender and vanilla. He’s not even admiring her body as much as he normally would, but that’s really nice too. He noticed that earlier in the week when he’d approached her.
He wants her in a way that he hasn’t wanted anyone before but his ego is still in recovery and he can’t risk asking her again. Why wasn’t she into him? Was he losing his touch? It occurs to him that maybe he’s bordering on obsession like this only because she turned him down. Because she seems unattainable. That’s something he’s never really experienced before, but Jeonghan’s been known to like a challenge. It feels kind of like a fatal flaw right now.
He has to get here earlier next week to secure a seat away from her, not only to save his grade but to save his sanity and ego. Fuck the rule that you sit in the seat you picked on the first day for the entire semester. He’d fight someone for it to avoid this kind of spiral weekly. He needed to put a lot of distance between Y/N and himself ASAP.
After three agonizing hours, when the instructor lets them go, Jeonghan is the first one out of his seat, not even bothering to stop to stuff the syllabus that’s wrinkled in his grasp into his backpack.  
He thinks about bailing on his plans with his friends to call someone over because he needs some sort of validation right now that he hasn’t lost his touch, but thinks better of it. He’s afraid his friends will see right though the facade. They don’t need to know his ego his hurt this badly that he’s driven to hook up with so many people in a week to get over one rejection. 
He’d get his validation tomorrow night. Maybe more than once with the way his system was on overdrive. At least then he wouldn’t have to seek it out. They’d come to him.
Y/N thinks that if she has to hear this song again she’s going to scream. She’s in her ensuite bathroom with the door closed and she can hear CL’s Hello Bitches start for the 23rd time. Yes, she’s been counting. She loves CL, but this is becoming excessive. 
She can also hear who is in tune and who is most certainly not. She’s just about to get her eyeliner right this time when there’s a screech in the other room. Not the type of sound you expect to hear when you know there are six grown men in there. 
Swinging the door open, she’s met with the sight of Seungkwan pinning Junhui down by his neck. Soonyoung is scolding them (which is ironic because he’s usually at the center of these things) but the other three are totally unfazed. Vernon and Minghao are scrolling on their phones and Wonwoo looks like he’s napping (or trying to anyway). “Guys, are there any other songs on this ‘playlist’ of yours?” 
Seungkwan pulls away from Junhui, whose glad for the opportunity to escape. Seungkwan turns his wrath to Y/N. “What do you have against this one?”
“It’s one song, Kwan. It shouldn’t count as a playlist,” Y/N deadpanned.
Seungkwan glares. “Yeah, well, your eyeliner sucks.” 
“Thanks to Junhui’s screeching,” Y/N sasses, while Junhui scoffs, putting a hand to his chest in offense. They all ignore him and his dramatics. 
Minghao’s off the bed in moments though, taking the eyeliner pen from Y/N and pushing her back into the bathroom. “Let me fix it so we can leave. I can’t stand them or this song anymore and I need a drink.” Minghao’s subsequent glare silences the laugh that’s bubbling up Y/N’s throat. Like the artist he is, Minghao’s efficient with lots of mediums, including eyeliner apparently, and they’re dragging her out of the apartment in less than five minutes. 
This is not their normal Friday night. They usually end up at one of the restaurants down the street until it closes and then they move to Vernon and Y/N’s apartment to crash. Sometimes there’s alcohol, but there’s always more food (despite having their fill at the restaurant), and almost always some form of games. 
So it was to everyone’s surprise when Wonwoo announced that his roommate, Mingyu, had insisted they come to a party tonight. Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and Junhui were in immediately. The rest took some convincing and Wonwoo was certainly not going to do it. He left that to his friends that couldn’t wait to get drunk on someone else’s alcohol. 
The walk was short and the house was already packed when they arrived. They squeezed through the crowd to the kitchen to get drinks and then went their separate ways. It was likely that they’d all end up back at her apartment anyway, so Y/N wasn’t worried. She runs into Minseo in the kitchen and strikes up a conversation. They were roommates in the dorms until Y/N moved into her own apartment with Vernon and Minseo moved into the sorority house. They were unlikely friends back then and even remained friendly when they ran into each other on campus now. 
Minseo was talking about being a big for her sorority this year, something she’d been looking forward to. However, Minseo was cut off by an “Oh shit!” Something splashed onto Y/N’s shoes. She hadn’t looked down but Minseo had. Y/N did not like how her former roommate’s face was twisted in disgust right now. Y/N glanced down.
Yep, that’s puke. 
“I am so sorry!” Y/N was convinced that any and all gods hated her, because she recognized that voice. She looked up to find Yoon Jeonghan in front of her with wide, panicked eyes. He was clutching another guy by his sides, seemingly holding him up. “He’s a freshman, he doesn’t know how to handle his alcohol quite yet.” 
“It’s fine,” Y/N forced out, trying not to look down at her converse again. She’d most certainly gag if she did.
The freshman wavered on his feet but this time he made it to the trash can behind Minseo. Jeonghan was no longer clutching the freshman, but now ringing his hands, so uncharacteristic from his usually overwhelming confidence. “Let me wash your shoes for you. My friend lives here, he won’t mind.” 
“No, no. That’s not necessary.” With a grimace, Y/N dropped her drink into the trash can when the freshman came up for air. She tried not to look at Jeonghan and instead looked at Minseo. “I’m going to head home.” 
“At least let me walk you home. It’s late,” Jeonghan cut in, face pinched with anxiety. 
Y/N waved her hand as she stepped back. “No, that’s not necessary either. It’s not far.” The freshman had his head in the trashcan again. “I think he needs you more right now, anyway.”
She didn’t wait for an answer and quickly exited the house. As she walked, she pulled out her phone and sent a message to the group chat that she was leaving. They all had her location so they’d know when she made it home if they were worried.
The August air was stagnant and humid, making the smell on her shoes so much worse. She grimaced again. This was why she didn’t go to these types of things. Minseo and a few of the guys regularly tried to get her out of the house, but this was just not her vibe. Tonight was just more evidence of that. She had terrible luck with these things.
A rhythmic sound was getting louder behind her. For a moment, she prayed that Yoon Jeonghan hadn’t followed her to walk her home like he’d been insisting. She was beyond relieved when she heard a more welcomed voice. “Hey, what happened?” Wonwoo asked as he slowed next to her. He must have caught a whiff of what had happened because he did a quick scan of her before landing on her shoes and muttering, “Ew. Dude, that’s gross.”
“I know,” she scoffed. “Go back to the party. Mingyu wanted you there.” 
Wonwoo began walking with her, ignoring her command. He shrugged, “I showed up and spoke to him. That’s more than he usually gets. What happened to you though? You didn’t answer.”
“Some freshman that couldn’t handle his alcohol apparently. That’s the shortest visit we’ve ever made to a party and that’s saying something.” Wonwoo laughed at Y/N’s words and thankfully it diffused some of her tension. 
“Yeah, a whopping twenty minutes.” 
Wonwoo was the brave one when it came time to deal with Y/N’s shoes upon arriving to the apartment. She slid them off along with her socks at the door and Wonwoo carefully picked them up by the least gross parts. Never mind that he sprinted for the washing machine with a scream. He said it was so he wouldn’t breath in and smell it. Y/N thought that was pretty valid.
When the others arrived at the apartment a few hours later, they found Y/N and Wonwoo on opposite sides of the couch, one reading and one playing video games. They joined in seamlessly, grabbing snacks from the kitchen to sober up. She appreciated that they didn’t ask why she left early. The last thing she wanted to talk about was anything in reference to Yoon Jeonghan. 
It’s been nearly a week and Jeonghan is still not talking to Chan. He pretends like he doesn’t hear him when he talks. He’s getting really good at it. 
At first it confused Chan, particularly when there was no one else in the room with them in Jihoon’s trashed kitchen on Saturday morning. It goes on so long that a hung over Chan starts to wonder if he’s invisible. Can that happen? He’s never drank this much before. He’s starting to worry about weird genetic mutations or that maybe he’s a ghost now. However, Seungcheol greets him when he enters the kitchen. So that settles it. Not invisible. Jeonghan’s just mad.
It takes the entirety of Saturday and Sunday, and the first half of Monday before Joshua finally steps in to counsel them and try to solve the issue at hand. All of them have a soft spot for Chan and don’t like seeing him so dejected. It turns out Chan remembers very little of the party so he doesn’t even know what to apologize for, though he keeps offering blanket apologies. So, Jeonghan tells the story in excruciating detail. Mingyu is downright elated by it. Seungcheol and Jihoon try to bite back their laughs and turn away. Chan is completely mortified and says he’s swearing off drinking for good. Joshua can’t fix this, he’s decided, but he feels a lot of sympathy for Chan. After all, they were all once freshman and did some stupid things. So he tries to fix it anyway.  
He fails. 
Then food magically starts appearing in front of Jeonghan randomly. First it’s a burger and fries that Chan treats him to on Monday night when they all go out. Then it’s coffee and a muffin on Tuesday morning. When they go out for beers on Wednesday, Chan buys everything Jeonghan drinks, but Chan doesn’t partake even though this college bar is known to overlook a little underaged drinking now and then. Thursday, Jeonghan finally puts a stop to it because Chan must be spending a small fortune for a college student on this apology. He accepts the coffee Chan hands him and says, “Okay, enough.”
Chan’s eyes are hopeful and Jeonghan hates how much he loves the kid. He really does seem to feel bad. “I’m forgiven?”
Jeonghan nods. “Yes. Please pace yourself next time though.” 
“Of course,” Chan nods eagerly. “I do not want to feel like that again. Have you talked to her since?”
The question catches Jeonghan off guard. He’s relieved it’s just him and Chan today. He really wants his friends to forget about her entirely because every time she comes up it’s kind of like they’re twisting the knife. “Uh, no. I’m trying not to see or talk to her, which might become a bit of a challenge at 4:30 today. I have a class with her.”
“Oh,” Chan deflates. “Maybe I should apologize? I know you said you did, but… maybe it wasn’t well-received.”
“Yeah, because she had puke on her shoes,” Jeonghan half scoffs, half laughs.
“Sure…” Chan looks like he wants to say something more and Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “That has something to do with it, I’m sure… But… Okay, I’m not telling you this to bother you about it. I know you’d wish we’d drop it. But the others are really enjoying how much she seems to not like you. Something about karma.” Chan gives a shrug because he isn’t sure what else to do. 
“Karma about what?” Jeonghan bit, anger rising. If feels like all of this has been so far out of his control that it’s not fair. What has he done to deserve this?
Chan wouldn’t make eye contact with Jeonghan. “You know I’m new, so I don’t know specifics. But something about how you deserve to be shut down every now and then. That your body count borders on too much.”
Jeonghan can’t help but scoff. “Literally all of them except for Joshua have a high body count. They’re not totally innocent either. Besides, the whole concept of body count is stupid.”
“Yeah, it’s been pointed out,” Chan said cryptically. “Anyway, I’ll apologize if you think it will help. Just let me know.”
Jeonghan debates on whether to stick to his plan of avoidance throughout the rest of the day. When he arrives to his lit class, he makes the impulsive decision to sit behind Y/N again. He cares more than he’d like to admit that she seems to hate him. It’s one thing if he deserves it - if he’s done something to her, then he thinks he could accept this and move on like he has many times with many other girls. But he hasn’t really done anything to her besides ask her out and it’s starting to eat him alive, especially when he thinks about how she said no before she realized he’d been dared to do it. And the party on Friday was just a comedy of errors. Maybe there was a little irony in the fact that, out of all the people at that party, it was her shoes that Chan threw up on. 
She’s reading when he slides into the seat behind her. When she’s finished a chapter, he taps her on the shoulder. She closes the book around her fingers, turning in her seat. Her expression, like it was in their last two interactions, doesn't give much away except that she’d already like the conversation to be over already. It pains Jeonghan to see because it’s not the reception that he usually gets.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry about Friday.”
Y/N blinks. He hates how big and pretty her eyes are, even when she’s definitely not happy to see him. “You said that already. I told you it’s fine.” Her voice is totally flat and he really wishes he could read her mind. Maybe then he could find a way to fix this. They don’t have to be friends by any means, but something other than her total disinterest would be nice. 
“I know, I just -“ He doesn’t know where to go with this. He swallows roughly. He’s expecting her to turn away, but she doesn’t, placing the book in her lap now. There’s something patient in her expression that confuses him, but he’ll take advantage of it. “It’s occurred to me that I haven’t left the best impression, not just once, but twice now.”
She laughs, but there’s something humorless about it and it makes his lips turn down a little more. “More than twice, but I’d have to agree with that.”
He’s not sure what he’s done before this semester, doesn’t remember a single interaction with her before all this. “I’d like us to forget it if we can. Start over, if you will.” He’s not sure why he’s saying this or why it’s so important to him. He’s never cared much about his interactions with women outside of before, during, and after sex. It’s clear that none of that is going to happen here.
She seems to be thinking and it feels like she can see right through him. He squirms in his seat, not used to feeling so exposed. Usually, he’s the one reading people, not the other way around. And he can’t read her - not when he asked her out, not at the party, and not now. Finally, she smiles but there’s kind of an evil look in her eyes. “I’ll think about it. I’m still mad that you pissed on my car.” 
Jeonghan’s jaw drops, breath catching in his throat, but he can’t get a word in because the instructor has swept into the room and Y/N is already turning around in her seat. He drops his head in his hands and suppresses a groan. This class is the longest three hours of his life. 
It’s nearly dark when class ends. Jeonghan stuffs his things in his bag quickly, but his movements are hurried and messy and Y/N is already walking out of the classroom. He calls her name as he exits the building. He kind of expects her to ignore him, but she stops, halfway turning to glance at him. She kind of looks smug and he doesn’t know how to take it. He halts next to her. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea it was your car.” 
Y/N looks away and starts walking again and Jeonghan is trailing behind her now. “Do you have a habit of doing that when you go out drinking?” 
The question is conversational, casual even. Jeonghan feels awkward and kind of wishes she’d just yell at him. “Uh, no. It’s not a habit of mine.” He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or not when she looks mildly amused.
“You seem nervous.” Another casual statement.
Jeonghan stuffs his hands in the pocket of his jeans and he watches in real-time as she clocks the defensive pose. Yeah, she’s definitely amused. He’s noticed she’s incredibly perceptive. He feels like an open book to her. “I’m not used to making this much of a fool out of myself. I’m usually much smoother than this.” He admits it because she probably knows it already anyway. 
“Oh, I know. Your reputation is well-known around here. Quite the heartbreaker.” She says it so evenly that it somehow hurts worse than the anger that he gets from other women. It’s like it’s a fact. Jeonghan guesses it is and it makes him deflate. 
“Is… that why you said no?” The question leaves a very bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he fucking cares. It’s just one girl, why is she worming her way into his brain like this, making him feel so insecure?
There’s curiosity in her eyes when she glances up at him. “Perhaps. It didn’t help that you’d obviously been put up to it.”
Jeonghan huffs. “Yeah, that probably looked bad, didn’t it?” He’d been so stressed about getting his lick back lately that he’d kind of forgotten how fast she’d put all the puzzle pieces together. 
“Oh, yeah,” she laughed, but this time it wasn’t so humorless. He’s so surprised that she’s not mad because she has every right to be. He doesn’t know what to say. “This is my stop,” she said, pointing to the library behind her. “Look, I don’t know what all that was about, and I don’t really want to know. But consider that maybe your friends are just dicks if they’re putting you up to something like that. Even you might deserve better friends, Yoon Jeonghan.” 
She wishes him goodnight with a wave and his frown is so deep that even Seungcheol notices when he arrives home. Jeonghan brushes it off, almost feeling bad when Seungcheol presses again later that night, asking if everything is okay. Jeonghan remembers what Joshua and Chan said about the whole thing being a set up and how much they were enjoying it. Hell, it had even occurred to him that her presence at the party was a set up too, now that he knew Mingyu’s roommate was one of her friends. It would be so easy to invite Wonwoo and tell him to bring his friends as a courtesy.
No, he wouldn’t be talking to any of them about Y/N anytime soon. The sooner they all forget about this whole thing, the better.
The weeks start to fly by as the semester gets underway officially. Jeonghan is taking more than a full load of classes because he plans to do an internship next semester that will take up most of his time. This is something that he begrudgingly planned for last semester, but is really thankful for now. There’s a predictable pattern to his life. Class, homework, hang out with friends, go to parties on Friday and Saturday night and maybe take someone home. He’s not even doing that last part as often as he once did. He keeps thinking about his friends’ words at the beginning of the semester and when he does hook up with someone he’s left feeling less than satisfied. He's never realized how empty the whole thing is, but now that he does he can’t unsee it.
The only other deviation from this plan is the occasional conversation with Y/N in their shared lit class. 
No, he hasn’t moved seats. No, he doesn’t plan to anytime soon. No, he doesn’t want to talk about it. 
That’s what he tells Joshua after his friend spots Jeonghan and Y/N leaving their class together. They've taken to idly chatting as he walks with her to the library on his way to his own destination. He’s thankful it was Joshua that saw it and that his friend was willing to let it go. Joshua also must have kept it to himself because none of his other friends said anything. They’d seemingly forgotten about Y/N. 
Which was perfect because he doesn’t want to talk about how many times he’s been embarrassing himself in front of her. 
In September, his printer crapped out and the ancient professor that he was writing a paper for insisted on paper copies, even though the school offered a perfectly good online submission option. So Jeonghan found himself at the library late on Thursday night. Yes, he knew Y/N was working because he’d walked her there earlier that night. No, he didn’t want to talk about it. He especially didn’t want to talk about how he broke the printer and had to approach Y/N to admit it. If he hadn’t have needed that paper printed for first thing in the morning, he would have ran for it and come back another time. Y/N assured him that this particular printer was always on the fritz and offered to print it for him at the reference desk, but there was something sly in her expression when she handed him a stack of warm papers neatly stapled together. It’s like she knew he was taking a hit to his pride by having to ask her of all people, despite the positive interactions that they had sometimes. 
In mid-October, he found out she actually lived in the same apartment building as him. He found that out because he had been dared to wear his halloween costume (Spiderman to be exact) to check the mail. No good reason, just because. He usually had no shame, so what’s the worst that could happen? He found out the worst is seeing Y/N coming down the hallway. He ducked into the elevator as soon as it opened and repeatedly pressed the Close Door button, hoping to avoid the whole thing. However, Y/N not only saw him, but how aggressively he was pressing the button as she slid into the elevator. He realized he wasn’t wearing his mask and she was biting back a smirk. “Don’t…” he muttered, his eyes closed tight. She stayed silent throughout the whole interaction, letting him retain what little pride he had left. He’s not even sure why he’s so embarrassed because he’s done way more ridiculous things in far more public settings just for a laugh. Jeonghan returned to his apartment with none of his usual bravado when he completed a dare. 
In early November, Jeonghan decided he wanted to make ramen at 3am. Writing a paper had worked up an appetite. He’d made ramen a thousand times in his college career. What he hadn’t done before is set off the fire alarm in the apartment complex. As he stood in the parking lot watching the fire department sweep the building, he heard Y/N grumbling to her roommate how annoying this was because she had an 8am class. If he’d had his keys, he would have gone to hide in his car. Or maybe leave. 
Yeah, maybe just leave. Seungcheol could handle the rent, right?
And then there were the times that Y/N of all people had caught him in compromising positions with girls. The first was when an acquaintance of Seungcheol’s that lives in the same building hosted a party. He’s making out with a girl in the hallway. He’s not sure why he didn’t just take her up to his own apartment down the hall, but the thought hadn’t occur to him immediately. He’d just pushed her out of the apartment and against the wall in the hallway and she let him. He’s almost got his hand under this girl’s shirt when he hears something alarmingly similar to Y/N’s voice from the other end of the hallway. It snaps him out of whatever lust-filled haze he was in and she and her friends pass by them in the hallway. He knows she’s seen him and what he was doing - the eye roll gives it away. The girl asks him to take her somewhere more private and he does, but he’s a little distracted for the rest of the night. 
The second time is at the library of all places. He’s been paired with a girl from one of his classes to work on an assignment and they’ve agreed to work in the library. He’d normally suggest working somewhere more private, but he’s not terribly attracted to his project partner. She’s fine, he’s just not that interested. However, the project is painfully dull and when she suggests that they sneak off for a few minutes he agrees automatically. He lets her suck him off in one of the dark corners of the stacks. Despite not being very attracted to her, she’s decent and he enjoys it enough to come. He also doesn’t mind the thrill of a little exhibitionism from time to time. His blood runs cold when they’re walking back to their table and Y/N is in the next aisle over, reshelving some books off a rolling cart. He has no idea how much she’s seen or heard. She doesn’t look at him, but she’s shaking her head. He decides he can’t stick around and makes an excuse that he’s forgotten something and he needs to leave. 
The most recent run-in is at another party, this time at a sorority house. He’s snuck off to the bathroom with one of the sorority girls and he’s got her sitting on the sink. Her hand is in his pants and his fingers are in her panties buried deep inside her when there’s a knock on the door and it opens. None other than Y/N is standing there. He pulls away from the girl quickly, but the girl’s hand is still very much in his pants and he knows Y/N has seen all of it anyway. He starts to apologize so they can let her have the bathroom, but Y/N is already waving him off with another eye roll and closing the door behind her. He makes an excuse to the girl and doesn’t end up taking anyone home that night.
And after all that, luck was especially not on his side when their lit instructor announced that they’d be pairing up with someone for their final presentation. This was both a blessing and a curse. Someone to share the responsibility for the bulk of your grade, but also… someone to let you down on the bulk of your grade. Jeonghan also couldn’t decide if it was a blessing and a curse that the instructor paired him up with Y/N. She didn’t object and he’s too mortified by 90% of the interactions he's ever had with her, so he kept his mouth shut and accepted her invitation to meet, pick a book, and lay out a plan. She was a good student so he could at least bank on a good grade. He’d have to get a grip if he was going to survive this project though.
Yet another thing that he did not want to talk about with his friends. 
It’s Wednesday afternoon in early November when Jeonghan slides into the seat across from Y/N. They’ve agreed to meet in a coffee shop just off campus. When Y/N recommended it, Jeonghan simply shrugged and asked for the time.
“Sorry, I got caught up after class. You haven’t been waiting long, have you?” Jeonghan asked. His face was pinched with the usual concern - usual only because she kept seeing it when he looked at her over the course of this semester. It was very different from the arrogant grin he usually wore, and somewhere deep down (deep, deep, deep down), she was wondering if she’d been too harsh on him or misjudged him. He seemed to wear a mask sometimes and she could see right through it because she liked to wear one too. 
Either that, or he was the greatest actor in the world. Maybe this new face of concern was a facade to get her to let her guard down so he could still win whatever bet his friends had issued. But it didn’t seem like it. He hadn’t broached any topic that indicated he had an ulterior motive since the first day of class. Anyway, even if it was all an act, she kind of liked watching him squirm. 
“Not long. What do you want to drink? I’ll go get it,” Y/N said, prepared to stand up. 
Jeonghan immediately objected. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it in a minute.”
“No, really,” Y/N chuckled. “I know the barista. Just tell me what you want.”
He reluctantly gave his order and she smiled as she left the table, satisfied that he’d folded so quickly. 
Minghao was standing behind the register with an eyebrow raised when she approached the counter. He leaned over the register to whisper to her. “Yoon Jeonghan? What’s that about?” 
“We’re paired for a project. Can I add another drink to my tab?” Y/N gave her sweetest smile. Minghao’s lips pursed like he was unimpressed, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. 
“Your tab is becoming alarmingly long, you know that right? The boss doesn’t even want us to offer tabs to friends.” Nevertheless, he took the drink order and began making it. While he was at it, they were discussing plans for the upcoming weekend. Junhui was performing in a play on Saturday and all of his friends had agreed to show up in support - not that he could keep them away. They hadn’t seen much of Junhui in the past few weeks as he’d been rehearsing nonstop, but everyone was really proud of him. They were planning to cheer and clap so loudly it embarrassed him, give him flowers, and treat him to dinner and drinks afterwards. 
When Y/N put the drink in front of Jeonghan, he looked like he was ready to go with his laptop and a printout of the approved books for the project. She was pleasantly surprised by this since he never seemed to take classes too seriously. Sometimes he didn’t even bother to get out a pen or paper or even open his laptop to take notes. She just hoped he’d open the damn book that they picked out because she had never seen him read a single page with her own eyes.
Still, she was pleasantly surprised again at how involved he was with their selection process. They agreed on The Monk, mostly because they both liked the challenge. Not many people were picking something from the 1700s if they could help it and their selection would show some initiative to their instructor. He’d even agreed to a reading schedule and regular meetings. She tried to remind herself that every time she got caught up in how cute he was when he focused, or how intently he seemed to be listening, that this was the man that pissed on her car in the beginning of the semester. And asked her out on a bet or dare. And whose friend puked on her shoes. And… you get the idea.
Somehow she didn’t feel all that angry about a lot of it anymore. Weird.
That’s why when he began chatting idly about other things outside of the project, she didn’t shut him down. She told him about her plans for Junhui’s play this weekend and he told her he’d been applying to internships for next semester without much luck. She surprised herself by volunteering to review his applications and resume. He looked really cute when he was surprised by the offer and she bit her tongue to keep from further trapping herself. Being friendly with Yoon Jeonghan was something she was still conflicted about.
“Can I ask you something?” Jeonghan asked hesitantly when conversation lapsed. Y/N shrugged. “You said you know the barista?”
Y/N nodded. “Yeah, his name is Minghao. We’ve been friends since freshman year.”
Jeonghan hummed and something smug filled his expression. “Mhm. So how long have you liked him then?”
Y/N choked on air. “What? What are you talking about?”
Jeonghan laughed, shaking his head. “I saw you bat your pretty eyes and smile for a free drink - thank you by the way. That’s so unlike you. I mean, all I get are blank stares most of the time and I’d like to think I’m quite charming.” 
“It’s not like that,” Y/N insists, but it was weak at best. Her face feels hot.
“There’s nothing wrong if it is like that,” Jeonghan assured. It appeared to be genuine, encouraging even. 
“It’s…” Y/N trailed off, avoiding eye contact as she tried to find the words. Whatever explanation she was trying to conjure up fizzled out when the door to the cafe opened. “Oh god.” She dropped her head into her hands. 
Jeonghan swung to look in the same direction. “Whose that?” He glanced back at her. He’d always thought he might enjoy seeing Y/N in a way that wasn’t so composed after all the times he’d made a fool of himself in front of her. And he did enjoy teasing her about her little crush on the barista. He’d never thought he’d see her blush and it was pretty cute. However, this was different because she looked down right mortified. Not cute. He’s feeling protective all of the sudden for no good reason. “Uh, he’s walking over.” He watches the mask snap back into place so fast that he gets whiplash. She had just looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole, but now her face is totally impassive. 
“Y/N!” The guy is now standing in front of their table, a bright smile on his face. 
The smile Y/N returns is friendly enough but it doesn’t meet her eyes. “Seokmin, how are you? I’m surprised to see you here.” Jeonghan thinks that she really meant something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you doing here’ instead. Seokmin clearly did not know that.
“Oh, you know I couldn’t miss Junhui’s first leading role. I had some time off and decided to come and visit.” Seokmin is still smiling brightly and Jeonghan knows now that he’s not a fan. He’s seen Y/N looked totally unimpressed, primarily at Jeonghan, but this is different. There’s a flash of anxiety on her face that unsettles him. This guy’s done something wrong and he hopes she’ll stick up for herself. He wants a front row seat to it and he doesn’t even know what Seokmin’s done.
Y/N’s smile is tight. “That’s great. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled you made the trip.”
Maybe Seokmin is finally picking up on the tension because the thousand-watt smile dims a bit. She hadn’t said she was happy to see him, just that Junhui would be. Seokmin turns to Jeonghan, sticking out his hand. “Lee Seokmin.”
Jeonghan turns on the charm, giving his best smile and gripping Seokmin’s hand tight as they shake. “Yoon Jeonghan.” He isn’t sure what Seokmin is thinking when he glances back and forth between Y/N and Jeonghan, but Jeonghan kind of hopes that in some twisted way he thinks they’re together. He’s trying to put out the vibes of a possessive boyfriend, mostly so Seokmin will stop looking at Y/N because it’s clearly making her uncomfortable. She’s shrunk in her seat and crossed her arms, making herself look small.
Seokmin’s about to say something when Minghao comes out of the back and yells his name. Seokmin’s easily distracted and as soon as he’s away from the table, it takes half a second of eye contact before Jeonghan and Y/N are packing up their stuff, making a show of looking at the time and saying they’re late for something.
Once they’re out of the coffee shop and around the corner, Jeonghan pulls her to a halt by the elbow because she’s practically sprinting. “What exactly was that about?” 
He doesn’t ask if she’s okay because her distress is crystal clear. Now that she’s out of the cafe, she looks like she might cry. “It’s kind of a long story.” There’s a choked quality to her voice that tugs at his heart strings. He can’t explain that. He’s seen plenty of women cry, usually because of him, and it’s never really bothered him before. 
“I have time,” Jeonghan shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but he’s floored that she’s not shutting him down and walking away right now. Y/N’s mouth opens and closes a few times before she finally pouts. He doesn’t even think she’s aware she’s doing it but he still suppresses the urge to squish her face because of how cute she looks. He doesn’t think that she’d like for anyone to do that, much less him. “How about this? It’s nearly dinner time. Let’s go get something besides coffee and you can tell me about it.” She looks hesitant, probably remembering the first day of classes, so he tacks on, “No ulterior motives, I promise. You just look like you need to talk to someone about it. I’ll even pay.”
He lets her order her chicken tenders, fries, and milkshake before he starts asking questions, mostly because he’s surprised she’s still sitting across from him and the promise of food on the way might make her stay. The whole walk to the diner near their apartment complex, he had half expected for her to make a run for it. 
“I’m not sure where to start.” There’s a helpless tone to how she admits this and Jeonghan hates it. She’s usually so sure of herself and he already hates Lee Seokmin for the effect he seems to have on her.
“Let’s start with Seokmin.” The waitress delivers their milkshakes and Jeonghan patiently waits while Y/N jabs the straw into her cup and starts twisting and crumbling the straw wrapper. 
“We dated. For a long time actually, since high school. We even picked this school so we could go together because it had both of the programs we were interested in. He’s a theatre major, you know? Well, was. Was a theatre major. Last year, out of the blue he announced that he’d landed a role and he’d be moving right away for it. I hadn’t even known he was auditioning for anything that wasn’t local. He broke up with me because he thought he wouldn’t have time for me and left three days later. Back at the cafe is the first time I’ve seen or spoken to him since.”
Y/N looks so dejected as she grabs Jeonghan’s straw wrapper because hers is totally mangled now. He kind of wishes he’d hit Lee Seokmin rather than shake his hand. “How long were you together?”
“6 years, almost 7.” The pout is back and Jeonghan’s beginning to heat with anger. What a waste that time was for her.
“I’m… sorry. That’s so shitty. I can’t imagine it.”
“Kind of hoped he wouldn’t come back. That maybe he’d be so successful abroad that he’d never need to. Is that wrong of me?” 
Jeonghan scoffed. “Wrong of you to wish him success even though he broke your heart to achieve it? Maybe. Something isn’t right about that.” He’s aware immediately of how hypocritical what he just said is. Earlier this semester he asked her out on a bet, fully intending to date her for three months and then dump her to cash in on the $300 he was promised. He squashed the thought because now wasn’t the time. He needs to get that pout off her lips right now. He kind of hates that the only way he can think of to do it is to bring up Minghao. She was so much lighter when she ordered Jeonghan’s drink from him. “How does Minghao fit into all this?”
The pout lifts a bit. “Minghao was one of the first friends I made in my freshman year here. I took an art class for one of my general education requirements and he was in it. I’m not an artist. But he was kind about it even though he’s a much better artist than me and even helped me fix a lot of my work so I could pass. Last year, when Seokmin left, Minghao was still kind, even though Seokmin was his friend too. He didn’t look at me with pity like a lot of the others did.” Abruptly, she throws down the second mangled straw wrapper, crossing her arms across her chest. “That probably sounds stupid, doesn't it?”
“No!” Y/N’s eyes flare at Jeonghan’s rather passionate answer and Jeonghan tries to backpedal. “I mean… I know I don’t set a great example when it comes to this stuff. God only knows my friends won’t let me live it down. But I can sympathize. You put your heart and soul into someone for nearly 7 years and then he up and leaves at the first sign of a greater opportunity without so much as asking what you want? That would hurt anyone. It’s also totally reasonable to have a soft spot for someone that helped you when you needed it after all that.”
He’s avoided looking at her during his whole speech, but when he does he knows what he’s looking at because he’s already seen it a couple times tonight. She’s biting her lip and her eyes look unusually wet. He’s about to apologize when she says, “You surprise me, Yoon Jeonghan.”
“I do?” Jeonghan asked, confused.
Whatever emotion she was showing clears and she nods firmly. “Yes. Every time I think I have you figured out, it seems I’m wrong. You’re pretty thoughtful when you want to be.”
He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s not like this with most people, not by a long shot. The waitress brings their food and he’s thankful for the distraction. He’s nearly done with his burger when Y/N speaks again.
“What were they going to pay you if I said yes?” 
Jeonghan is sure he knows exactly what she’s talking about but he prays he’s misunderstanding. He tries to play dumb. “Huh?”
“You said your friends never let you live down your reputation. I saw them that day that you asked me out. What was the prize if I said yes?” 
He stalls out of for a long moment and Y/N waits patiently. “You won’t be mad?” 
“No. It was obvious there was an ulterior motive the moment you approached me. We’ve had classes together for years and you never even glanced at me.” 
He thinks that wasn’t totally true but he doesn't correct her because he doesn’t think it would change anything. She appears to be honest about not being mad so he clears his throat. “One of my friends, Joshua, is in a relationship and very happy. I don’t know how it ended up here, but they all agreed I was basically incapable of dating like that, or at all really. They wouldn’t let it go and it bothered me. I felt like I had something to prove to them.” 
“How much?” This time she was pressing. His throat burned because it occurred to him why Joshua didn’t condone the betting and dares in the first place. Telling her she was worth $300 and some bragging rights to him made him feel ashamed now, especially with how she’d just opened up to him. But he answered her anyway. To her credit, she barely blinks. “And you picked me?”
“They did.” Jeonghan feels like he’s swallowing acid. He wonders if she thinks he finds her unattractive or that he never would have picked her if it had been up to him. That bothers him for reasons unknown.
“So they set you up then.” Jeonghan must have looked surprised because Y/N continues. “Mingyu knows I don’t like his habits. It runs Wonwoo out of his apartment constantly and hurts a lot of feelings. Because of your reputation, and your association with Mingyu, they had to know what I would say.”
Jeonghan’s positively dejected now. He slumps in his seat, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I guess so.” He looks out of the window to avoid her eyes because she’s doing that thing again where she looks right through him and he feels too raw now.
“It really does bother you, doesn't it? You don’t think you could do it if it was with the right person?”
“Maybe not,” Jeonghan mumbles bitterly. “I haven’t even gone a date since I was a sophomore in high school and my fucking mom drove me to it.” His laugh is so hollow as he wipes his hands down his face in frustration. He doesn’t know why he’s admitting this. He expects to see pity in her face but her expression is not completely impassive or unkind. “Sounds kind of pathetic, really, especially admitting it to someone like you, whose been in a very long relationship. I know how to hook up but I know next to nothing about dating.”
He can’t look at her and he kind of expects her to leave. Kind of wishes she would so he could go crawl in a hole in peace. “Jeonghan.” He looks up reluctantly and is terribly confused when she’s smirking and her eyes look a little chaotic. “Ask me again.”
Jeonghan’s brain shuts off like someone’s pulled the power cord to it. All thoughts flicker out. “What?” It comes out more like a hiss. 
But she’s still blinking her pretty eyes at him and now she’s nodding encouragingly. “We can prove them wrong, easy. Ask me again.”
He shakes his head, hoping it’ll help him make sense of this. “You want to help me win a bet by pretending to date me.” 
She shrugs. “Sure. I have a little experience, so I can help make it convincing.” 
He knows she’s trying to make a joke about Seokmin, but he feels like he might pass out. “Why would you do that? What do you get out of it? And what about Minghao? Seokmin? What about my horrible reputation?”
“I care very little about your reputation actually,” she says firmly. “We’d have to establish some ground rules anyway if you want some image rehabilitation out of this. Seokmin is a non-issue because I don’t want anything to do with him anymore, and I’m positive that things with Minghao won’t be going anywhere. Besides, I kind of hate Mingyu. I’d like to make him eat his words.”
After a beat, Jeonghan barks a short laugh in disbelief. “You’re insane.” It’s not an insult because he’s beginning to smile. 
Y/N sticks her hand out to him across the table, a satisfied smirk across her face. He likes the mischief in her eyes. It’s actually a huge turn on. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”
Now he’s wearing a huge grin. His hand encapsulates hers and they shake. “I’m Jeonghan. Nice to meet you. Would you like to go on a date with me?”
Act Two 
Jeonghan was in charge of the first step of this plan. He needed to tell his friends that he had a date. He kind of wanted to straight up brag about it. Yes, they’d teased him mercilessly about Y/N’s initial rejection, but look who finally came around. He knows the bragging would be effective. It would make every competitive bone in Seungcheol and Mingyu’s body ache. He can imagine that they’d all try to start dating too just to prove a point. They can’t be shown up by Jeonghan. 
But Jeonghan is surprised when Y/N pitches another idea and it’s absolutely devious. She suggests being so casual that it makes them feel guilty. Now, he hadn’t expected her to have such a manipulative streak, and he’s still more confused at this vendetta she seems to have against his friends, Mingyu in particular. But the more he thinks about it, the more satisfying he thinks her recommendation will be. He’s also incredibly turned on by the way she’s willing to play these mind games. She’s undoubtedly the best person to pull this stunt with.
After their shared night class on Thursday, Jeonghan slid into the booth at the bar. He runs a little late on purpose. He’s not sure if Chan remembers, but he’s already let it slip that he has a class with Y/N on Thursdays. It would be nice if he remembers that after Jeonghan’s announcement and puts two and two together, but it’s not necessary for the successor this step.
His friends were a few drinks deep already and discussing some baseball game that was on TV when he arrives. Jeonghan has a couple beers himself before the right opportunity finally presented itself. “You guys going to the Kappa party tomorrow night?” 
The others agree to Seungcheol’s question automatically. Jeonghan glances at his roommate casually before looking back at the TV. He casually sips his beer. “I’ll pass.”
“What?! You never miss it. What’s better than a Kappa party?” Seungcheol laughs like Jeonghan is totally unserious. 
Casual. No big deal, just like Y/N recommended. “I have a date. Maybe next time.”
Jeonghan’s words are intentionally flat and he enjoys the silence in the booth, knowing it’s the calm before the storm. You can hear a pin drop in their little corner booth, which is crazy because it’s Thirsty Thursday in a campus bar. 
“I’m sorry? Can you say that again?” Jihoon speaks, confusion obvious. 
Jeonghan finally meets his friends eyes. He suppresses the satisfaction at their shock, pulling his best Y/N impression to keep his face blank. “I have a date.”
“With who?!” Mingyu cries.
“When did this happen? I didn’t even know you were interested in anyone.” Seungcheol looked seriously offended.
Jeonghan and Y/N had agreed that this would be the best part. It would look like not even she was impervious to his charms, he’d just needed some extra time for her to warm up to him. He glanced back at the TV again. “Y/N. I asked her out earlier this week.” 
Man, were they right. A glass clattered to the table. A gasp. Finally, a loud, “How in the fuck,” from Mingyu. 
“Y/N, the girl that brutally shot you down earlier this semester? Wonwoo’s friend?” Seungcheol clarified. 
Jeonghan did everything to keep his face passive and relaxed. Like he was long over it. “Brutal is a strong word. She was actually pretty polite about it.” That part was true. She’d said ‘no thank you’ when she could have said ‘no way in hell’.
“Then how did we get here? Did you bribe her or something?” Mingyu accused. “That would definitely go against the bet.”
Ah, another thing they had anticipated. After some discussion, they both agreed Jeonghan wouldn’t need to bring up the bet. His friends would do it for him in one way or another. After even more consideration, they’d also agreed that the bet didn’t matter. Jeonghan didn’t want the money, primarily because it would involve Y/N and he’d come to respect her too much over the semester. Even if he did take it, Y/N refused to accept any of it for her role. Plus, Jeonghan rejecting the bet would send a clear message.
“We have a class together and we got to know each other some. And no, I didn’t bribe her. I don’t give a fuck about the bet,” Jeonghan says evenly. 
Across from him in the booth, Mingyu and Seungcheol look at each other before frowning. They hadn’t expected this and Jeonghan had been banking on that. It felt so satisfying and he already couldn’t wait to tell Y/N how well this was going. 
Jihoon claps him on the shoulder. “That’s nice, man. I hope it goes well. You’ll have to tell us about it later.” He seems to mean it too.
Chan looks relieved. “So I don’t need to apologize for puking on her shoes?” 
Jeonghan barks a laugh. He loves this kid. “No, her shoes cleaned up okay.”
Joshua is grinning. “I knew it’d work out. What are you doing for your date?” 
Jeonghan isn’t sure how to take that first part but he doesn’t have much time to think about it because Joshua, Jihoon, and Chan are peppering him with questions. He feels stupidly happy when he answers them, losing the cool, unaffected exterior that he had before. They’ve never been so encouraging. Seungcheol and Mingyu are the ones that are usually cheering him on. But this is different isn’t it? His two friends across from him stay quiet for the rest of the night. It seems like they don’t know what to say. 
His two friends are so quiet that it isn’t until Jeonghan is getting ready for his ‘date’ on Friday that one of them approaches him. He’s brushing his teeth when Seungcheol leans against the doorframe of his bathroom. “So, you’re really doing this, huh?” 
Jeonghan likes to think he’s getting good at being casual about this topic because it’s all most of his friends have talked about since he made the announcement last night. He spits in the sink, focusing on running his toothbrush under the water. “Seems that way, yeah.”
Seungcheol is quiet for a while and Jeonghan wonders if he might drop it. He’s not so lucky. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His roommate sounds hurt.
“I did. Last night.” Jeonghan tries to keep the chill out of his voice when he answers it because he’s remembering how satisfied Seungcheol looked back in August across the quad. 
“I mean - we’re friends, right? We have been for years. We live together for fuck’s sake. I didn’t even know you had a class with her, much less that you’d been talking to her or really liked her.”
He can tell Seungcheol is getting frustrated and Jeonghan is losing his patience for it. Seungcheol should feel bad and Jeonghan wants to make sure he does. “I didn’t know you’d want to know, especially if I wasn’t getting turned down.”
It has the affect that he’s hoping for. Seungcheol reels back a bit. “It’s not like that and you know it. Of course I’d be happy for you if you really liked someone. You just… haven’t.”
“I do now.” Jeonghan is even surprised by how fast the words come out. “Want to make fun of me the way you guys do with Joshua now? It seems you and Mingyu will have something to say either way.”
It’s like he’s watching in real time as Seungcheol realizes he might have been a dick. But this has just started. He and Y/N have a three month agreement once it’s reasonable to announce that they’re official and Jeonghan plans to make the most of it while Y/N is on board. Seungcheol is just the start.
“You know we don’t mean it. It’s not that serious,” Seungcheol might even be pleading now but Jeonghan feels his anger boiling over as he pushes past Seungcheol to get back to his bedroom.
“Have you asked Joshua if he thinks it’s not serious? You ever wonder why he doesn’t bring his girlfriend around when she goes to the same fucking school?” Jeonghan bites, opening his closet, yanking out clothes that he’d already planned to wear. His movements are jerky as he dresses. 
“He always says she’s busy.” It sounds like Seungcheol is trying to convince himself of it. That really has been Joshua’s excuse, but Jeonghan remembers how Joshua avoided talking about her for so long, afraid of how everyone would react. They’ve only met her a handful of times in three years. He half considers taking a page out of Joshua’s book when it comes to Y/N, but it would defeat the purpose of their plan. This needs to be rubbed in their faces. Not tonight, but soon. 
“I gotta go, I’ll see you later,” Jeonghan shoves his keys, wallet, and phone in his pockets and walks past Seungcheol, ignoring the ‘seriously, man’ that’s mumbled.
Y/N can tell Jeonghan is in a mood when they meet in the lobby of their apartment complex. She lets him have his moment as they get into his car and drive to the river front. He seems to relax some when they park and she asks what kind of street food he’s thinking of getting. It’s chilly but they find a bench on the river’s edge to eat their food. “So how’d your announcement go?” 
“Good, I guess,” Jeonghan grunts. 
“Be more convincing,” Y/N insists lightly. He gives her a look out of the corner of his eyes before he scoffs. But she’s relieved when he does lighten up a bit. 
“It was good until I was talking to Seungcheol earlier. He was offended that I never mentioned it.” One thing that keeps surprising Y/N is how open Jeonghan is about his thoughts and feelings. She doesn’t want to discourage it. She knows what it’s like to feel like you can’t go to your friends with this sort of stuff.
Y/N hums. “Seems about right. How’d that go?”
“Bad. We don’t fight often - I mean only a handful of times over nearly 15 years. He didn’t like that I was right though. He didn’t want to know about it if he couldn’t give me a hard time about it.”
“I’m proud of you.” Jeonghan’s head snaps to look at her as she continues. “You should absolutely tell him he’s being a dick. Mingyu next, please. Imagine how satisfying that will be.” After a beat, she adopts a thoughtful expression. “Maybe we need to take a more subtle route to avoid fighting with them, though. I’m not out to ruin friendships here. I just want to deliver some karma and a little guilt-tripping.”
“How’s this going to work anyway? Jeonghan asks. He's already said he doesn’t want to make assumptions about what she’s comfortable with in this little scheme of theirs and that her approval on the process is important to him. 
She hears him chuckle when she pulls out a notebook and a pen from her bag. “You’re not going to make me sign a contract, are you?” He teases.
She gives him a side eye, but she can’t help but smile. She flips to a certain page. “No, Yoon Jeonghan. How much time are you spending on Wattpad?”
“Just enough,” he jokes. She rolls her eyes.
The plan is pretty simple. 
Phase One - Casually Dating. This is critical, she says, because it lays the groundwork for the rest of the plan. It has to be convincing that it’s going well and they like spending time with each other. She insists that this act doesn’t just extend to his friends or even her friends, though they’re important factors. It extends to all of campus. His absence at parties will be noticed. His prolonged attention on a single person will be noticed. It will make an impact. He needs to jumpstart some image rehabilitation if this will work. People need to be second guessing what they think they know about him.
Phase Two - Officially Dating. Once they both feel that others are sufficiently convinced that something serious could really be going on between them, they hard launch. This includes things like being seen together on campus, posting each other on social media, and attending parties together. She says that this is the natural rhythm of this type of thing and he nods in agreement. Despite the fact that he’s not put any of those things to practice, she knows he’s smart and has seen it all before. When Y/N mentions a little PDA, Jeonghan frowns like he hadn’t considered that it would be necessary. He asks what she has in mind, but Y/N shrugs and says they’ll revisit it if phase one is successful. She’s still debating on what will work in regards to the topic of PDA, given what he’s used tonight other than girls. 
Phase Three - sometime after the three month mark, they quietly break up. Quietly because Jeonghan can’t be the bad guy here if this is going to really benefit him in the long run. Jeonghan says that this part sounds deceptively simple and even asks if there’s more. There’s not so he shrugs. Another thing they’ll revisit if the first two phases are successful.
She really only has one rule. He has to stop all non-platonic interactions with other women until this is over. Even if he’s discreet, people will still talk and it will ruin the new image that they’re trying to create. Jeonghan agrees to this with surprising ease, and Y/N’s shock must show. She was expecting for him to ask to bend this rule on an occasion or two because it’s been implied she won’t be putting out. She has an idea of the frequency of his hook ups because she’s seen and heard things and three months is a long time for someone with his habits. He simply says, “Just trust me. I promise not to make you look bad.” He even pinky promises on it.
When they’ve agreed on the general details, Jeonghan takes the pen and signs the bottom of her notes with a smile. “There, it’s official now.”
She scoffs, snapping the notebook shut around his hand and taking her pen back. Both items go back into her bag. She’s smiling too though. “Come on. I want hot chocolate.”
“Are you paying?” He chides, standing to walk with her. 
“No. You just signed your life away. You didn’t even read the contract.” She jokes and he laughs. He pays anyway without complaint.
Y/N had spent so much time worrying about Jeonghan’s side of this little deal that it didn’t occur to her until she was out with her friends in celebration of Junhui’s excellent performance earlier that night. They both had a part to play in this and she feels kind of silly that she had forgotten that this would impact her too. 
Seokmin had joined them for dinner and Y/N wore her best poker face. He’d been friends with everyone before he left too. She didn’t want to cause anymore of a rift than their breakup had. She also knew many of the guys still kept in contact with Seokmin even if she didn’t and had missed him. Vernon kept her glass full of alcohol. It’s one of the rare times that he wasn’t giving her a hard time about her misfortune (which this entire night certainly classifies as). She thinks he probably just doesn’t want to see her cry tonight. Vernon is totally lost with that sort of thing.
The alcohol wasn’t numbing much though. Everyone else seems to be having a good time and she was beginning to feel left out. In particular, Soonyoung was having a lot of fun downing drinks. His voice was loud and it looked like their waiter might cut him off at any moment. Drunkenly, Soonyoung turns to Seokmin. “Seokmin, Minnie couldn’t come with you? When will we meet her?”
Y/N didn’t miss the looks from the rest of the table because there was nothing subtle about it. Some flashed with concern towards Y/N. Some looked like warnings at Soonyoung, who was oblivious. Seokmin hesitated, eyes flitting to Y/N across the table. “No, she had some things to do. She says she’d like to come next time.”
She felt like she’d been struck by lightning. Minnie. His costar. Maybe his new girlfriend too from the sounds of it. It seemed like all of her friends knew as well and they’d kept it from her. Soonyoung cried out, leaning down to hold is leg. Someone must have landed a kick under the table. Minghao smoothly changed the subject. 
After that, Vernon is very diligent about keeping her glass full. The world moved around her but she stayed quiet. How dare he? How dare he dump her and move on just like that? They’d not even been broken up for a year. How was it so simple for him when her eyes burned at the fact that he was even at the same table? Did nearly 7 years mean nothing? 
Maybe it didn’t. Maybe her friends knew that, which is why they’d kept this a secret. They knew she hadn’t been able to move on so easily. Between the anger and the alcohol she felt like she was on fire. 
Vernon elbows her. She’s missed an entire conversation. “Seokmin is here until Friday. Want to join us for dinner and drinks on Thursday night?” Junhui’s not oblivious, but he’s sure acting like it with the question. Or maybe it’s out of politeness, not wanting her to feel excluded. Either way, her fists clench in her lap because there’s no way to spin this into something positive. 
Out of nowhere, Y/N remembers Jeonghan asking her what she gets out of their scheme. She’d insisted making his friends eat their words was enough. But maybe she could benefit from it more than she thought. 
She remembers when she and Jeonghan planned his announcement to his friends. Be casual, no big deal. She gives her most convincing apologetic smile. “Sorry, I won’t be able to make it. I have a date.” She doesn’t look at Seokmin because his reaction matters very little to her. It’s with great satisfaction that she watches her friends stumble as she changes the subject. 
Y/N hadn’t really thought about the impact her announcement would have because it was so spur of the moment, unlike how Jeonghan’s was meticulously planned. But she was learning what that impact was. Her friends were tiptoeing around her, around the topic. It seemed like no one was brave enough to say anything yet. That is, until they sent Minghao. 
As was her usual routine, Y/N often studies at the coffee shop during Minghao’s shift. It’s three in the afternoon now, which means it’s dead. The morning rush is long over and the night class rush (if you could even call it that) won’t start for another hour or so. Minghao slides into the chair across from her and Y/N glances up to give him a small smile. He doesn’t return it. He looks a bit nervous, which is very unlike him. 
“What?” Y/N asks, though she thinks she knows where this is going. It’s been days since the conversation during dinner. It’s clear one or all of them can’t take the mystery anymore. 
Minghao looks like he’s steeling himself. Finally he says, “So, a date, huh?” She shrugs. “When did that happen?”
“I’ve actually already been on one, on Friday. We’re going out again.” 
She watches Minghao’s eyes flare in surprise. “Oh? So it went well then?” He seems neutral about the news.
“Yeah, it was good.” The answer was genuine. If you’d told her earlier in the semester that she’d enjoy Yoon Jeonghan’s company, she wouldn’t have believed it. Despite the fact that it could barely be called a date, what with the scheming and all, she did have a good time. 
“Do I know him?” 
Y/N shrugs again. “I suppose. It’s Yoon Jeonghan.” 
A flash of concern crosses Minghao’s face. “Yoon Jeonghan. Are we thinking of the same one?” When Y/N just raises an eyebrow because there’s only one Yoon Jeonghan around here, he tacks on, “The one that was here with you last week?” 
“Yes.” 
Minghao face palms. “Oh, honey. Why would you do that?” 
He sounds so exasperated and scolding that it pisses her off right away. “Do what? Go out with someone whose interested in me?”
Minghao’s stammering now. He didn’t expect her to fight back. She’s been the quiet one of the group from day one, letting the rest of her friends run the show. With Seokmin, she’d always been so agreeable, even to a fault. And when Seokmin had left, she took all of her friends’ advice without argument, trusting that she would feel better if she did. She’d always assumed they were looking out for her, but she was thinking she’d misinterpreted some of their intentions now. 
“I don’t mean it like that, Y/N. I just mean… we all know how hard Seokmin leaving was on you. There’s no need to rush moving on. Least of all with someone like Yoon Jeonghan.”
She doesn’t like how he says Jeonghan’s name like he’s the devil incarnate but she can’t deal with that right now. “No need to rush moving on like Seokmin did? Tell me, how quickly did he start dating someone else after he ended a years-long relationship?” She snaps and Minghao doesn’t have an answer. “Every single one of you knew and you didn’t tell me. You let me sit across from him at dinner and find out the hard way.”
“We were trying to protect you from it. You’d been doing so much better. We didn’t want to ruin the progress,” Minghao says weakly. 
“Well, you don’t have to worry about the progress being ruined. I’m very over Seokmin, but I’m deeply offended that you guys kept this from me. It did absolutely no good to protect me from it right up until he was right in front of me for the first time in a year.”
Minghao opens his mouth to say something but a customer comes in. He has no choice but get up and make their order. Y/N packs up her things and leaves while he’s busy because she’s not interested in continuing this conversation. 
Thursday night after class, Y/N finds herself across from Jeonghan in what he’s dubbed their regular booth at the diner. It’s the same one they sat at when they initially hatched this whole plan initially. When she’d texted him earlier in the week asking for a ‘date’ on Thursday, she was relieved when he immediately agreed. This ‘date’ has a dual purpose. They needed to meet anyway for their project and they also needed to discuss the next steps in their scheme. Her conversation with Minghao had sparked something in her. 
They get the boring stuff out of the way first - combining their notes for what they’ve read so far, discussing themes and motifs, and choices in characterization, plus where they think the ending will go. Not only has he actually done the reading they agreed on, but he’s far more intelligent than he lets on and Y/N finds the conversation just as stimulating as the scheming. 
Speaking of, when their plates are empty, laptops are closed, and Y/N’s notebook and pen come out, Jeonghan smiles. She’s taken more notes. However, she doesn’t tell him how it’s going to be right away. “How do you want to proceed?”
The question stumps him and Y/N smiles when his face falls into confusion. “Didn’t you come up with a plan already?”
“A loose one. There’s a lot of flexibility because this needs to come naturally to both of us if it’s going to be convincing. The question now is, when can we move on to phase two?”
Jeonghan’s thinking, and it probably mirrors a lot of her own thoughts. Since their agreement, Jeonghan had made a point to meet her regularly on campus - meeting her for coffee or lunch, walking her to class, even carrying her bag once or twice. It had gotten looks, which was the entire goal. 
She also knew that her friends had seen some of this too. She wasn’t sure if Minghao had told them who she was seeing, or if they’d seen it for themselves, but it was clear that they knew now. She smiled and confirmed their assumptions when asked, but they were careful not to voice their opinions. They seemed to sense that they were in trouble. 
What she didn’t know was how things were going with his friends. She knew they’d also seen Jeonghan and Y/N together on campus, and knew that a lot of those times he’d been bailing on them to see her. “Are things convincing to your friends so far?”
Jeonghan nodded slowly. “I think so. It’s helping that I’ve turned down parties. Jihoon called me a changed man the other day.” There’s a lightness about him when he says this. Like it’s the biggest compliment anyone could give him. 
“Do you miss it? The partying, I mean?” Not that she told him, but some of his bad habits were the biggest risk to their whole plot. She’s relieved when he shrugs. 
“Not really. Might be nice from time to time but it was kind of always a means to an end.” 
He doesn’t have to spell it out for her. He won’t go to parties if he’s not taking someone home. He looks a little embarrassed about this admission after he says it but she appreciates his honesty. 
“That brings me to my next question, actually.” Jeonghan looks nervous but nods for her to continue. “Maybe we should attend one together.”
He’s frowning now. “You don’t like parties.”
“I don’t like getting puked on.” She’s teasing, but he must know that because he rolls his eyes. “What I’m getting at is, a total 180 of your habits could be suspicious. Plus it’s a good opportunity to be seen together. We show up, have a few drinks, chat, look cute together, and then we leave if you want.”
“Define ‘look cute together’.” He looks genuinely confused.
“Which brings me to my next point. How are you with PDA?” She watched Jeonghan’s eyebrows raise and then he busies himself looking elsewhere. 
“I usually do enough to get someone to go upstairs or go home with me.” 
She nods, closing her eyes with a tinge of exasperation. “That’s not the kind of PDA I’m talking about.” 
“Oh.”
She flips the notebook to a fresh page, tapping the pen a few times. “I mean, innocent touches. Things that will make it apparent that we’re together but doesn’t necessarily mean you’re taking me straight to bed when we leave. Though I guess people thinking that wouldn’t hurt much, especially later on.”
Across the table, Jeonghan tries to think of literally anything else but the implication of her words. He’d made a concerted effort not to think about her that way this whole time, not just in this scheme but throughout the whole semester. He would not be able to get through this if he was thinking about her in his bed. He’d surely fuck it up if sex became involved. She seems oblivious to his struggles. He clears his throat. “I don’t know. What would you normally do?”
Y/N is surprised and her poker face slips a bit. He couldn’t be that inexperienced to all of this, could he? He’s starting to fidget, a nervous tick that he has. Maybe she’s wrong. There’s more of a learning curve than she thought. 
“Hand holding. Little touches, like if we’re standing next to each other you put your hand on my back or waist. Or if we’re sitting next to each other you put your hand on my thigh. Kissing probably wouldn’t be a bad touch either, to whatever extent you’re comfortable with it. The critical part is that we need to look interested in one another and no one else over a significant period of time.”
She’s writing notes as she says this, so she misses how Jeonghan’s eyes are glazing over. He knows couples touch and kiss, he’s not an idiot. And he’s definitely not inexperienced with the mechanics of it all. But he feels like he’s 14 again at the concept. He hasn’t said anything yet and she interrupts his panic. “Are you okay with that? Would you add anything? Are there things you don’t want to do?”
“Uh, no, I’m good. But, you’re sure you’re okay with all that?” 
He’s getting her signature blinks. “Jeonghan, I wouldn’t mention it if I wasn’t okay with it. Besides, there’s no script to this part. Just do what feels natural.” He’s doesn’t know how to respond and it makes her frown. She puts the pen down and sighs. “Maybe we go a different route with this. It doesn’t have to be public. Maybe you don’t want to be seen with me.”
Jeonghan’s eyes go wide, hands planting on the table. “Whoa, where did that come from? What makes you say that?”
Y/N chews on her lip. She’s usually a straight shooter, but she hesitates to admit this because of how insecure she might sound. However, this won’t work if they’re keeping secrets. “I don’t quite fit the type of girl you go after. You looked uncomfortable at the idea of being near me or touching me. It’s fine if you don’t find me attractive. I’m really not offended, I promise, but if that’s the case for you, then maybe we scrap this whole plan or find someone else to help you with it.”
“You think I don’t find you attractive?” Jeonghan is deadpanned now because he can’t imagine pulling this off with anyone else. Y/N shrugs, feeling exposed now that she’s said all of that. Jeonghan gives a stiff shake of his head. “You’re insane.” He’s said this before but this time it’s not a compliment. “I’m only going to say this once. You’re incredibly hot and pretty and cute, and just about any other kind adjective out there. You’re not the issue here. In fact, I’m already getting questions about how I got you to so much as look at me.”
“That’s because I’m kind of a bitch.” Y/N means it as a joke but Jeonghan certainly isn’t taking it that way. He looks more serious than she’s ever seen him. 
“No, you’re not,” he says firmly, leaving no room for debate. “You have boundaries and you know what you want. That’s something about you that I can’t get enough of.”
Things move in slow motion for her as Jeonghan reaches across the table to grab her notebook and pen. He scribbles out the question mark she’d put next to Kissing and then signs his name at the bottom. “I’ll pick you up at 9 on Saturday night. There’s a Phi and Zeta party.” He flags down the waitress for an order of fries. It’s clear that this is final. 
Minseo busts into Y/N’s room at approximately noon on Saturday, two coffees in hand. Y/N is relieved to see her, though she almost didn’t call her. But Minseo had picked up on the second ring and it took very little explaining before Y/N could hear her former roommate scrambling around her room, promising to be there ASAP. 
Y/N wasn’t good with girls. Not good at having conversations with them, not good at maintaining friendships with them. She had very little in common with someone like Minseo, who had done dance and cheer for most of her life, was popular in the sorority circles, and whose favorite color was hot pink. Instead, Y/N had been on the soccer field skinning up her knees or the volleyball court diving for the ball, and when she wasn’t doing one of those, she dressed like a complete tomboy - no skirts or dresses in sight if she could help it. And don’t get her started on the fact that all of her friends had always been boys. Other girls, even her own teammates, had criticized her over the years, saying that she must think she’s better than other girls. They interpreted her reservation (which was rooted in anxiety about fitting in) as her being stuck up. She wasn’t. She didn’t feel that way at all. She wished she could fit in with them desperately but didn’t know how.
Minseo was one of the few girls she’d ever met that didn’t complain about the skateboard being left in the walkway of their dorm, or that Y/N’s closet primarily consisted of denim and black, or that she sometimes wore a bit too much dark eye makeup when she was in the mood. She didn’t even blink at the number of guy friends that were in and out of their shared dorm the entire time they lived together and never even suggested that something else was going on. In return for that acceptance, Y/N had tutored Minseo for many classes to remain eligible for the sorority of her choice and supported Minseo’s 2am baking habit. She had even helped Minseo style dozens of outfits for her many sorority events, back when she was still trying to find her footing within the organization. It was Y/N that needed the fashion help this time. 
“I need you to start from the beginning.” Minseo was practically vibrating as she plopped on her stomach onto the bed, feet kicked into the air with her head propped in her hands. She’s grinning. 
“I have a date.” 
“So you said. With Yoon Jeonghan.” Minseo’s smirk is huge. She’s not surprised that Minseo’s heard it. The whispers have been following her everywhere lately. 
“It’s fake.” The whisper is out before Y/N can stop it. 
Minseo’s jaw drops. “What?!” The screech must have disturbed Vernon’s beauty sleep because he bangs on their joining wall. Minseo and Y/N yell ‘sorry’ in unison, an old habit from their dorm days. 
“Oh my god, Y/N. Start from the beginning. Now,” Minseo hisses.
Y/N does. She’s desperate to tell someone everything, to get it off her chest and feel better. She tells her about turning Jeonghan down in August, the bet, the class they shared and how they kept running into each other, Seokmin, Minghao - everything. It feels good to share the pain of it all. It also feels good to have someone to panic with her. Minseo is screaming into the pillow by the end of it and Vernon’s banging on the wall again. 
“Well, so what now? Fake date Yoon Jeonghan?” Minseo must recognize that this is Top Secret because she’s adopted a whisper too. 
Y/N gives a deceptively casual shrug. “Yeah, that’s the deal. Are you going to help me or not?”
“Hell yeah, but girl, this is so messy of you. Are you sure you’re good?” Minseo looks mildly concerned. 
“I’ll be better if you can help me figure out what to wear, and how to do my hair and make up. I’m trying to make a point here.”
“Clarify the points for me.” Minseo is gentle with the request, but it’s clear she’s not moving from the bed until she has an answer. 
“That I can move on from Seokmin. That I already have, actually. And that Jeonghan’s not quite what his reputation leads people to believe.” 
“You’re sure about that last one? That the bet’s not back on? That he’s not going to continue to sleep around?” Another gentle but serious question. Minseo knows his friends so she knows how Jeonghan is by default. 
Y/N bites her lip. “I think so. Even if the bet’s still on, none of it’s real. And he’s agreed not to sleep around. If he does, this whole thing backfires on him anyway.”
This seems to satisfy Minseo, because she’s suddenly lunging towards the closet. Clothes begin flying out onto the floor behind her. She’s digging to the back of the closet. Y/N expected that but dreads it nonetheless.  A few options are laying out on the bed in moments, things that are a little more revealing or tighter (or both) than she’d usually wear. She’s not sure why she even has some of them because they still have the price tags on them. 
It’s a little unclear what Minseo’s process is, but she’s meticulous about examining an outfit, scanning Y/N, looking back at the outfit, repeat. Finally, Minseo shoves one to her and points to the bathroom in a silent command. Minseo frowns when Y/N comes out and silently hands her another outfit. “What? Is this one bad?” Y/N asks, looking down self-consciously. 
“No babe, you look hot, but you also look terribly uncomfortable. That’s not going to convince anyone.”
It takes a while before Minseo is satisfied with the full look, but at a little before 9pm, Y/N is glad she trusted the process. Minseo ended up scrapping all of the things she initially pulled out with the excuse that they weren’t edgy enough. Y/N fans her face to dry wet eyes and not smudge her makeup when she looks in the full length mirror. Minseo didn’t try to stuff her into a short party dress; she’d let her keep her personal style and comfort, but it’s enhanced her feature in a way that she didn’t know was possible. She owed her former roommate big for this because it makes her feel a little more confident about this whole thing. Like she’s not just playing dress up as Jeonghan’s soon-to-be girlfriend.
The apartment door opens and Y/N knows it’s time. Time for what, she’s not sure, but it feels a little like facing the music. She finds Jeonghan and Vernon at the door. She’s unsure if they’ve ever actually met, but they apparently have now. Both look surprised when they see her, or rather what she’s wearing, but while Jeonghan smiles, Vernon frowns. She hasn’t made this kind of effort to dress up for a guy… ever, really. Not even for Seokmin. 
Y/N tries to convince herself it’s not really for Jeonghan per say, but she does like how he looks at her. It seems innocent and there’s a quiet admiration to it. 
“Ready?” She asked Jeonghan. He holds the door open for her as they leave, while Vernon’s still standing in the entry way awkwardly waving. 
“You look nice,” Jeonghan says when they enter the elevator. 
“Thanks, so do you.” It’s not a lie. He’s usually wearing baggy clothes like sweat pants, hoodies, and oversized shirts. Now it’s jeans, a white T-shirt, and a leather jacket. Within the confines of the elevator, she can smell his cologne. Something woodsy with a hint of citrus. The scent is kind of consuming and she’s eager to get out of the elevator and clear her head. 
Conversation comes easy on their walk across campus. It usually comes easy with them anymore. It’s when they approach the frat house that Y/N begins to hesitate. Jeonghan’s perceptive, leaning close. There’s a crowd of people in the front lawn and he probably doesn’t want to be heard. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We can just walk back home now, or go somewhere else and hang out. Me not showing up at all also makes a point.” 
“That defeats the purpose. Besides, wasn’t I the one convincing you of this the other day?” 
“You were,” Jeonghan nodded. “But you’re allowed to back out at any time. You’re getting very, very little out this.”
“That’s not totally true,” Y/N mumbled. As soon as the words were out, she hoped he hadn’t heard her but he must have. 
“Your mysterious vendetta against Mingyu isn’t worth being uncomfortable here. We can always set up something else less crowded,” Jeonghan insisted. 
“No, I mean…” she stalls. A crowd of drunken frat guys get too close to them on the sidewalk as they rough house. Jeonghan’s hand flies to her waist pulling her away. He doesn’t take his hand back, like maybe he’s trying to comfort her. Or maybe he’s just putting on a show. He’s standing close and she imagines how intimate it must look because she knows how intimate it feels. Whatever it is, it’s disarming because it seems so natural. “Seokmin’s moved on. All my friends knew and didn’t tell me.” 
Jeonghan’s fingers tighten around the curve of her waist ever so slightly and his touch is warm through her jacket. “So… you want to prove you can move on too.” 
It warms her that he gets it just like that, no further explanation needed. “Does that make me a bad person?” Y/N asks, looking around the front lawn next to her. 
“Does it make me a bad person that I want to prove to my friends that I can date by fake dating you?” 
“No,” Y/N’s fly up to Jeonghan’s and he’s looking intently, a hint of amusement. “Your friends are being dicks. They should be more supportive of you and what you want.”
“And your friends should be honest with you about some asshole that up and left you after 7 years. Fuck, they shouldn’t even be friends with him anymore, Y/N. I don’t have to know the details to know he was in the wrong here.” His hand slides around to her back as he steps forward a bit, impassioned. She can feel his warmth against her side now. 
She’d never had anyone so… viciously supportive of her. Not even Wonwoo, arguably her ride or die for as long as she could remember, had said a bad word about Seokmin around her. Not even when she wouldn’t eat or sleep, and cried often. She’d asked over and over what she’d done wrong and none of her friends ever had an answer for her. Now that she thought about it, they also never told her she wasn’t in the wrong at all. Jeonghan’s validation, particularly the intensity of it, is touching. 
Confidence in their plan renewed, she was reaching around to grab his hand off of her back, lacing their fingers together. “Let’s go.” 
Jeonghan didn’t have to be told twice. 
Jeonghan had only told his friends he’d show up tonight, but not that he’d be bringing anyone. The omission was only because he wanted to give Y/N room to back out, and if she had backed out he already planned to back out too. In a way, he kind of liked the idea of keeping a little mystery. But Y/N is right when she says they still need to show off a little bit.
He feels their stares, amongst many others, as he leads Y/N by the hand to the kitchen. It occurs to them that he and Y/N didn’t really have a game plan for this. They’re totally winging it and he’s trying to think fast. 
They both get drinks and wordlessly reconnect their hands together to fight through the crowd. He finds his friends by the pool table, Mingyu and Seungcheol with cues in their hands. They aren’t playing though. They’re staring. Joshua is the first to greet them, but he hardly seems concerned with Jeonghan. He seems so enthusiastic that Y/N is here that it’s a little overwhelming. He immediately introduces himself to Y/N and then introduces the other four one by one. 
“Nice to meet you, but what’s the catch?” Jihoon asks. Though he means it in jest, Jeonghan’s fingers still tense around Y/N’s. He’s afraid he might lose his cool but she squeezes his hand back. 
“No catch,” Y/N answers coolly. “Why would there be?”
Jeonghan suddenly remembers who he’s working with. She’s smiling, but he sees the gleam of mischief in her eyes that he’s becoming familiar with. She’s excited to face off with them. Jeonghan now realizes that she’s going to make them say it. She’s going to make them fess up to what they really think about him and about him dating her. She’s also going to make them regret it. He feels a little giddy at the thought. His hand relaxes in hers and he gives his friends a cool smile now.
“It’s just, Jeonghan doesn’t date. This is weird for all of us,” Seungcheol says with a slight smirk, kind of like he’s expecting to scare her off easily. It’s irritating, but Seungcheol doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. 
She looks up at Jeonghan with an amused expression. “Is this weird for you?” 
Automatically, Jeonghan is shaking his head, a genuine smile on his face. It really isn’t weird, which is the great irony of it all. “Of course not.”
Y/N’s expression is light but there’s a challenge in her eyes when she levels with Seungcheol and shrugs. “You’ll get over it.” Seungcheol’s eyes widen and the smirk drops a bit. Jeonghan can see he didn’t expect her to be so casual and indifferent to his prodding. 
Mingyu laughs but there’s something kind of malicious about it. Jeonghan wonders what’s happened to cause such tension between Y/N and Mingyu because he feels Y/N’s fingers twitch at the sound.  He kind of wonders what she would do if both her hands weren’t full. “Y/N, honey, you know how this goes. We’re just trying to save you from the inevitable. Get out while you can.” 
“Yeah, I do know how these things go with you, Mingyu. I make it a point to not take your advice because of it,” Y/N says evenly, relaxed even.  
Mingyu’s lips purse and he backs down just like that. Jeonghan’s never seen Mingyu cower like this and makes a mental note to ask what kind of dirt she has on Mingyu that makes him finally shut up. It’s Jihoon that breaks whatever tension has been building. He looks at Jeonghan with a grin. “Oh, I like her. We’re keeping her so don’t fuck this up.”
The night goes on and Jeonghan enjoys it more than any party he’s ever been to. It’s something to do with Y/N, no doubt. He liked how Joshua and Jihoon had claimed her as part of the group immediately. He liked how she hugged a drunk Chan and patted his cheek kindly when he almost cried while apologizing for puking on her shoes all those months ago. He also really liked watching her absolutely demolish both Seungcheol and Mingyu at pool. As she sunk the last ball to win against Mingyu, Seungcheol looked at him with crazed eyes. “Where the fuck did you find her?” 
“You guys found her. Remember?” Jeonghan said with a laugh. He enjoyed the sobering affect his words had on Seungcheol. That’s right. He’s not going to let him forget how all this started. This is when Jeonghan realizes he hasn’t been plotting this entire night. He’d expected that the PDA and introductions would need to be meticulously planned, but it all happens with such ease that it surprises him. Joshua had handled the introductions for him and it seemed so natural to put a hand on her back or waist or hold her hand when they stood next to each other. He finds he kind of likes it. 
Jeonghan can tell that Y/N has had enough social interaction a little after midnight and begins to pull her by the hand towards the door. He’s surprised when Seungcheol invites her to hang out with them the next day. On Sundays, they often go to the sports complex and find something to do. He’s even more surprised when she says yes. 
Very few words are necessary on the way home. They both know this has been a huge success. Enough that she lets him throw his jacket around her and take a picture of her, which is uploaded to Instagram right away. Hard launch complete. Phase two begins now. 
It was clear on Sunday morning that her friends are staging an intervention. 
Y/N is already dressed to go to the sports complex later and comes out on the hunt for some breakfast. She finds her living room full and six pairs of eyes on her. Wonwoo is the one to pat the seat next to him and ask that she sit down. He starts gently. “We saw the post. It’s blowing up on instagram. Is there something you’d like to tell us?” 
She loves Wonwoo, and all of them really, but there’s an expectant look in their eyes that makes her seethe. Like they think they deserve answers. “Does it matter?”
“Matters?! Yes it - of course it matters, Y/N. You’ve been dating and you didn’t even tell us,” Wonwoo cries, calm facade gone. 
“This is what this intervention is about? That I’m dating and didn’t announce it immediately?” She can’t help but deadpan in total disbelief.
“Yes! Y/N, it’s so unlike you to not tell us what’s going on with you,” Soonyoung answers, frowning. 
“Have we done something?” Junhui asks. 
“Have you done something? Is that a serious question?” Minghao puts his face in his hands because he must know where this is going. He’s already been ripped apart for this once back at the coffee shop. The others are genuinely nodding though. Minghao must not have said much about their conversation because it would have served as a warning. Y/N laughs bitterly, running a hand down her face in exasperation. “I’d like to know where you all find the audacity to ask me that like you haven’t been hiding things from me for who knows how long.” 
Besides Minghao, they look surprised, like they’d already forgotten the big reveal at dinner the other night. “Y/N, I promise we didn’t tell you only because we didn’t want it to be a setback,” Seungkwan tried to reason. 
“And you didn’t think it would be a setback when I found out while he’s sitting across from me at dinner, which I didn’t even want to be at by the way? I sucked it up and went for Junhui because it was his night. Did you think that felt great to find out that not only did Seokmin toss out nearly 7 years together because he has bigger and better things to do, but one of those bigger and better things included moving on in what? A matter of months? Was it even that long? Did you think it felt great to know that everyone else knew before me?” Now Y/N is out of her seat, refusing to be placated by Wonwoo whose trying to pull her back down. “You guys are supposed to be my friends. Seokmin and I intentionally didn’t make you guys pick between us but it seems like you did anyway. And now you all are upset that I’m moving on? It’s okay for Seokmin to be happy after he tossed me out like trash and I can’t go on a fucking date a year later and be happy about it?”
“And you think Yoon Jeonghan will make you happy?” Vernon ask pointedly. 
“Yes! I wouldn’t be dating him I didn’t think so!” Tears of frustration are pricking at her eyes now. She doesn’t like how they’re talking about Jeonghan, regardless of whether any of it is real or not, and she doesn’t like that her happiness is so conditional to them. 
“Y/N, honey… he’s just such a far cry from Seokmin in literally every way,” Wonwoo tried to reason. She knows what he means. Seokmin is sunshine personified, a hero, known to be one of the kindest people you’d meet, and Jeonghan’s the evil villain in this story to them. But Jeonghan hasn’t destroyed her. He seems to be going out his way to make sure he doesn’t with their little plan. No amount of loyalty and kept Seokmin from doing that though. 
“It’s almost as if that’s the entire fucking point. You guys watched Seokmin rip my heart out after so long together and you still seem to think he’s the good guy here. Seokmin’s not the guy you think he is, but neither is Jeonghan. This intervention is over. Fuck you guys.”
She doesn’t know who knocks on her bedroom door every now and then but she doesn’t respond. When it’s time to leave for the sports complex, she walks past the living room quickly, ignoring their calls. She stuffs her feet in her tennis shoes and she’s out the door. 
Jeonghan meets her in the lobby. She’s sure he can tell something’s wrong immediately, but he doesn’t ask right away. He tells her that Mingyu and Seungcheol are already at the gym but they’re in no hurry so they can take their time walking.
It’s when she continually silences calls and ignores texts before finally shutting off her phone entirely that Jeonghan has to ask. “Is everything okay?”
“My friends staged an intervention this morning. I’m still pissed.”
“Intervention? I’m gonna need you to elaborate.” So she does, because she doesn’t see a point in keeping it secret from him. He should know about it before he comes around her friends, if they’re still even considered that. It’s strange how she finds some comfort in hooking onto his arm that’s stuffed in his coat pocket and even stranger how he doesn’t seem to react. This was the man that didn’t know what innocent touch really was until a week ago, but it feels so natural. Just like last night at the party.
When she’s done explaining, he looks conflicted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this would cause such a rift for you and your friends.” 
“The rift was already there when they started keeping secrets from me. They just made it worse by expecting honesty when they weren’t giving it back in return.” She tightens her hand around his arm, leaning into him a bit. He must think she’s cold because he loosely throws the arm over her shoulder and pulls her into his side. It’s the closest they’ve been at this point but it’s not uncomfortable at all. Y/N even thinks it’s kind of nice. 
“You’re right, but… it doesn’t help that I’m me. If it were anyone else they might not have reacted that way.” He sounds a little dejected and when she looks up he’s even pouting a bit. She resists the urge to squish his face.
“You know I don’t give a shit about that, right? I know what I agreed to. Besides, you’ve been good to me in ways that others haven’t. If they understood that, they’d back off.” It takes a while but he finally looks down and meets her eyes. 
“It’s just what you deserve. You deserve more than a fake boyfriend really, but I’ll have to do for now.” He looks sheepish but full on laughs when Y/N elbows him in the ribs. 
“Hey! Stop being gross! It’s too cold for this shit!” Jeonghan and Y/N spot Mingyu in front of the sports complex with Seungcheol. It’s Mingyu who yelled, but Seungcheol is laughing. 
It turns out that Mingyu and Seungcheol only brought Y/N to challenge her. It seems they took their losses in pool very hard and needed redemption. First, it was basketball, then it was soccer, then it was volleyball. With Jeonghan’s help, Y/N demolished Mingyu and Seungcheol in each one. The moment they give up is when Jeonghan sets the volleyball to her and she spikes it down their throats.  
“How the fuck did you even jump like that? You’re like half my size!” Mingyu whines, throwing himself on the ground. Seungcheol’s on his knees, head in his hands. They’re still bitter about their losses when they end up at a sushi restaurant that Y/N picked. Oh right, they were competing for who’d pay for dinner and drinks the whole time, because Jeonghan’s friends truly believed their first loss was a total fluke. Mingyu and Seungcheol hand over their cards with a grumble when the bill comes but Y/N is satisfied because not only did she eat whatever she wanted on their tab but it seems like she’s winning them over. Jeonghan’s assured her that the competition is a good sign and whatever snide comments they make now are playful in nature. They even ask when they can hang out with her again. 
It’s been hours since she left, so she’s surprised to find all of her friends still in her living room when she gets home. They look positively panicked. “Y/N, we’re glad you’re okay, we kept trying to call you and we couldn’t check your location.” Soonyoung is hugging her tightly but she’s still pissed. She peels away from him and begins to put away her shoes. 
“Yeah, I turned my phone off.”
“Y/N, we’d like to say some things, if you’d let us,” Vernon started. 
All of them did look exceptionally guilty, but they’d still have to work for it. She crossed her arms but refused to sit down. “Go on.” All of them looked at Wonwoo like they’d rehearsed this. They probably did, now that she thinks about it. Fights like this don’t happen often in this group.
“We’re sorry. We were trying to spare you the hurt but I guess that was unavoidable,” Wonwoo said. “We should have just told you so maybe you had time to process it before you had to see him again. We’re also sorry that we made you feel like we picked Seokmin over you. I promise it’s not like that. We’re all still conflicted about how things went with you two. We do want you to be happy, but we want you to be careful. Yoon Jeonghan is just… not our first choice. But if it’s yours, we’ll support it.”
“Then who is? Whose your first choice?” None of them answer and some of them won’t even make eye contact. Y/N scoffs. “Still keeping secrets, I see.”
“It doesn’t matter who our first choice is. All that matters is that you’re happy. If that’s with Jeonghan, then we’ll support it and we’d love to officially meet him,” Minghao said. He looks stressed. He’s looked stressed since the day at the cafe. He relaxes a bit when Y/N agrees to arrange something. They all do. 
Jeonghan readily agrees to abandon any Friday night plans that he might have had (which was nothing because he hadn’t been committing to anything or anyone besides Y/N and their plotting lately) in exchange for game night with Y/N and her friends. However, he agrees on Monday and immediately begins to panic. He’s aware that her friends aren’t his biggest fans. He even understands it. This is different than proving to his friends, who usually seem to like him, that he can hold down a relationship. This is simply proving to her friends he’s not a totally bad guy. He’ll even settle for being an okay guy. Breaking his image is critical with them if this will work. He and Y/N both know how it would look for her friends to not be supportive. It would negate a lot of their efforts. 
He and Y/N spend a lot of time talking about how this might go on Thursday night after their class. This time, they go to get fast food in Jeonghan’s car because it’s getting too cold to walk. The radio plays lowly while they both sit sideways in their seats for what feels like hours. He kind of feels like he’s getting a pep talk to meet her parents in a way. They ultimately decide that he’ll need to show some humility and play up his sweet nature. Jeonghan laughed when she recommended that, but she reminds him that he wasn’t very cocky the other night when she met his friends. They decide to play the PDA by ear, but that it will look better if he sticks around for a while that night and doesn’t try to sneak off with or without her. They’re still suspicious of his intentions and they need to be convinced that this is all innocent right now. 
On Friday, he shows up early to help Y/N cook dinner. She doesn’t ask him to, he just does, pushing past her when she opens her apartment door and picking up a knife to start chopping things that are laid out on the counter. She doesn’t ask but he’s sure she already knows this is just to work off some nervous energy. 
When her friends start to show up, he learns a few things fast. Soonyoung does not know how to handle his alcohol and swings wildly between imitating a tiger and crying. There’s very little reaction to this so it must be normal. Seungkwan is the biggest gossip he’s ever met and seems to know everyone’s business, even some of his. That’s a little intimidating, but it seems to work in his favor that he’s embarrassed by it.Vernon is very critical of Jeonghan’s movie choices and has some strong opinions on the Star Wars series. Jeonghan has to talk movie theories to get into his good graces. Wonwoo is a huge nerd (this doesn’t surprise Jeonghan, but Wonwoo’s much more shameless about it here). He brags at his rank in some first-person shooter game that Jeonghan’s never really played. Junhui tells really bad, cringe worthy jokes and Jeonghan thinks he might be his favorite here because it breaks a lot of the tension in the air. And Minghao is totally in love with Y/N. 
The way he looks at her says it all. Everybody seems to know, except for maybe Y/N. It’s especially obvious with how he avoids all contact with Jeonghan if he can help it, despite him being the one to ask for introductions in the first place according to Y/N. It occurs to him that she could get something else out of this deal if Minghao manned up and confessed after their ‘break up’. The idea leaves a bitter taste in his mouth for reasons unknown and he tries to be subtle about downing his drink to wash it out. Picturing them together is something he can’t spend a lot of time on and he kind of hopes he never has to see it if and when it happens.
Someone pulls out UNO and apparently they totally ignore the rule disallowing stacking of drawing cards. It’s even crossed out in the little paper manual from the box in pink glittery ink. Jeonghan doesn’t have to wonder who did that. The game is vicious and by the end of it Soonyoung isn’t the only one tearing up with so many cards that they can’t even hold them all in their hands. Jeonghan wins by sheer luck. He would usually cheat excessively at games like this but he swears he didn’t when he’s accused. Some of them don’t seem to believe him.
To put a stop to the heated threats and crying, Wonwoo moves everyone into the living room for some video games. This has the opposite effect and Jeonghan watches as Seungkwan nearly breaks the controller when he loses. Jeonghan becomes a little distracted when Y/N leans into him more to dodge Vernon’s arms flying in rage when he also loses. Without thinking, Jeonghan’s arm comes around her waist and he’s pulling her into his side. She folds instantly, laying her head onto his chest. His heart races and he’s sure she can hear it. 
At some point, they switch to Just Dance and Y/N has swung her legs over his lap. He mindlessly plays with her hands in her lap. He doesn’t know what this looks like to her friends but he finds he doesn’t care all that much. This isn’t about putting on a show because it feels nice and she’s warm and smells good. His heart races more when she twists the rings on his finger. He’s so comfortable with this and he realizes so fucked because this isn’t really requiring much acting anymore and he can’t imagine doing this with anyone else in a matter of three months. 
The following weeks become predictable in some ways. Jeonghan and Y/N spend every spare moment together. Jeonghan’s friends regularly crash these moments, especially Seungcheol and Mingyu who have become particularly fond of Y/N. There are also the occasional interruptions from Y/N’s friends, though they’re still pretty guarded. They’re at least making an effort to be friendly when they see Jeonghan and extend invitations to him when he’s around. 
Their friend groups had even started to mingle some. It was approaching the end of the semester and Soonyoung and Chan were planning a Christmas party before everyone went home for the holidays. Jeonghan was surprised that all of his friends agreed despite the fact that it wouldn’t be the rager that they’re used to. 
Since the game night at Y/N’s apartment, she and Jeonghan have also taken to an open door policy at each others apartments. They don’t need invitations, though it’s nice. They just show up when they’re bored - if they weren’t already together, that is. They aren’t even trying to act cute together, as Y/N put it, anymore. They just enjoy each other’s company and often times innocent touches come naturally. 
He especially likes holding her hand as they walk or cuddling with her on the couch. His friends tease him about it, saying he should let Y/N breathe a little, but he notices she’s just as guilty of initiating physical contact. She likes to hold his arm and huddle into his warmth when they walk around campus in the snow and plays with his hair when he lays on her with his face in her neck or on her chest. He soaks up all of it because it’s so unlike what he’s experienced before. It’s innocent and warm and floods his entire body with something totally unique that he can’t identify. 
But he still wants her badly in other ways and doesn’t want to talk about how it keeps him up at night when his thoughts turn into something not so innocent. He feels guilty about how fast it makes him come sometimes as he touches himself. He’s sure she doesn’t mean any of her touches like that so his 3am habits will remain a dirty little secret. 
What’s totally unpredictable is the attention that both of them started getting. Many guys on campus now approach Y/N to hit on her. One straight up told her, “If Yoon Jeonghan can get with you, then anyone can.” He, along with any others, got ripped apart. Jeonghan didn’t even find out about these conversations from her and certainly didn’t witness them. She was starting to get a reputation of her own and Jeonghan grinned when he overheard one guy tell another not to mess with her and that she and Jeonghan must be kind of serious. 
Jeonghan was also getting attention, maybe even more than when he was single. Some women even approached him when Y/N was with him, like him holding her hand or carrying her bag didn’t matter to them. His shiny new reputation as adoring boyfriend was apparently very likable, even to women that had said they outright hated him before. In another life he might have lived for this kind of adoration, but it got old very fast. By now, he had perfected the friendly yet firm response of, “No thank you, I’m not interested,” and if Y/N was with him he happily introduced her with special emphasis on the word ‘girlfriend’. If they continued to push, he’d become pretty mean. He wasn’t interested in hearing anyone bad mouth Y/N, and he also wasn’t interested in making her look bad by letting it slide. 
The day after finals are done, Y/N is making lists in her little notebook about desserts she plans to make for the holiday party. Joshua has joined them because he can bake and Jeonghan should not. Instead, Jeonghan is seeing what ugly Christmas sweaters he can find online that will get here fast. 
Joshua and Y/N finalize a recipe and ingredient list they’ve been working on and take a break. “When are you going home for the holidays, Y/N?” Joshua asks. Jeonghan frowns. He’s been so busy with the end of the semester and interviewing for his internship that he’d forgotten to ask what her plans were. He feels like a bad boyfriend. Or a bad fake one anyway. At the very least, a bad friend, which he considers them to be by now. 
“Oh, I’m staying here,” Y/N answers. 
Joshua glances at Jeonghan. “Oh. Is your family in town then?”
Jeonghan’s been around Y/N enough to start seeing through the mask she usually wears. There’s some tension in her mouth, the only tell at the moment. “No, they’ll be abroad for the holidays. They usually are.” 
This is news to Jeonghan. He’s abandoned his phone entirely now. Over the past month or so that they’d been ‘dating’, she’d never mentioned her family and he’s never witnessed a phone call or text between them. He just assumed they weren’t close. He hadn’t realized they were so distant that they didn’t even see each other for the holidays at all. 
Joshua’s asking a lot of questions now with a lot of concern. Where are they going? Didn’t you want to go with them? Do you see them often? The subsequent answers were: France, no, and no. Joshua looks devastated. “So you’ll be here by yourself the whole time?” 
Y/N shrugs. “Sometimes, I go with Wonwoo, but his family is going on a cruise this year. His parents are getting their vows renewed and it’s going to be more like a family reunion. So, yeah, I guess I’ll be here.” 
The thought of her alone on Christmas morning made Jeonghan’s chest hurt. There was no way he could stay in his parents’ home and enjoy anything knowing that. “You should come with me.”
Y/N looked surprised, but Joshua looked straight up stunned. Jeonghan knew he would get grilled about this later, but it wasn’t important right now. What was important was getting Y/N to agree. “Hannie,” Y/N started. Jeonghan’s heart fluttered. It was a relatively new nickname and he wasn’t over it yet. He’d been used to her calling him his full name to give him a hard time (which he’d come to like too). “Are you sure? We’ve not been dating long and it wouldn’t give your family a lot of heads up.”
“I’m sure.” And he is. His parents don’t need a lot of heads up because they already know about her. His sister had promptly ratted him out after seeing his Instagram post many weeks ago. He’d take whatever embarrassment his family threw at him in her presence if it meant she wasn’t alone here the whole time. “I’m leaving the day after the party.” 
Jeonghan thinks she’s going to say no. She’s chewing on her lip now, looking right through him to make sure he’s serious. He’s long stopped being nervous when she does this whole ‘staring right into your soul’ thing. He enjoys it now, being seen by someone like this, because she’s never once made him feel bad about what she sees. Finally, she nods. “Okay. Let me know what time to be ready.”
The moment she excuses herself to go to the bathroom, Joshua’s all over him. “Han, are you serious? Taking a girl home to meet your parents?” Joshua looks ecstatic at the idea. 
Jeonghan smiles. “Yeah, of course.”
“Of course? I think I might cry.” And he really does look like he might. “I’m just really happy for you. You two fit together so well.” 
“Yeah, we do,” Jeonghan mumbles. Y/N comes back in the room, ready to go with the next recipe, none the wiser. Jeonghan blindly scrolls through ugly Christmas sweaters without really seeing them because he’s too busy thinking that maybe they only fit together so well because that’s the whole point of their little scheme. Lately, there are times that he entirely forgets about the scheme, which would end in a matter of months. His eyes start to burn at the thought.
A couple days later, Jeonghan finds himself seated next to Y/N at the table in her apartment. It looks like Christmas threw up in here, what with the aggressive amount of colored lights and garland everywhere, the Mariah Carey song that Seungkwan is belting it out to on karaoke (which he’s not actually that bad at), and the ridiculously ugly sweaters everyone is wearing. Mingyu and Y/N are talking sports and Jeonghan isn’t keeping track of the conversation, though he’s staring at Y/N as she talks. She’s got glittery eyeliner on and it’s distracting. Seungkwan laughed at her as soon as he’d seen it, calling it gaudy, but Jeonghan defended her, saying it was cute and festive. He’d defend her glitter habit any day because it was very her and made him smile. It didn’t hurt that she smiled at him when he defended her either. That alone would have been worth it even if he hated it. 
The apartment door swung open and Y/N jumped out of the chair mid-sentence. “You made it!” She’s hugging Minseo and they’re laughing at their outfit choices. It’s nice to see because there aren’t many women that react warmly to Y/N like this. Minseo waves at Jeonghan and then she spots Mingyu. Her smile drops, turning to a sneer. 
“Mingyu.”
Mingyu looks uncomfortable. “Minseo?”
But Minseo’s already off, insisting to go next on karaoke. When Y/N sits back down, Mingyu leans across the table and hisses in barely contained rage, “You like to see me suffer, don’t you?”
Y/N’s grin is smug. “Yes, I do.”
Mingyu’s muttering about another drink as he gets up from the table. Jeonghan’s watched this whole thing with wide eyes. He leans in close to Y/N. “What the hell was that about?”
“It’s my mysterious vendetta against Mingyu. I’ll tell you later.” Jeonghan was so hooked that he was about to insist that she tell him now, but Joshua’s rounded the table to stand behind them. Across from them stands Joshua’s girlfriend, Jieun, grinning with a camera in her hand. Joshua’s started to bring her around more now that Jeonghan and Y/N are together. Something about not being the only targets now. 
It takes entirely too long to figure out why Joshua and Jieun look so sneaky. Jeonghan and Y/N spot the mistletoe at the same time, dangling from Joshua’s fingers above them. Jeonghan’s flooded with panic. As much affection as they show now, kissing had not been on the table yet and Jeonghan was beginning to think it never would be. That maybe they’d just pretend that that part of that relationship was so private that no one would ever see it, so they would never have to think about it. Y/N reaches out to grip the collar of his sweater and yank him forward. 
Just like spotting the mistletoe, it takes entirely too long to realize that he’s now kissing Y/N. A few clicks and flashes of the camera go off before he really reacts, but when he does, he’s holding her head in place. It’s gentle and there are some aww’s, but mostly gagging. It makes Y/N giggle against his lips and he can’t help but giggle too. 
He asks Jieun to send him all the photos she took. 
“What do you mean, you and Minseo pulled a ‘John Tucker Must Die’ on Mingyu?” Jeonghan asks. Last he remembered watching that movie, he’d never seen anything like that happen to Mingyu. He would have certainly remembered it, if only for how much he enjoyed it.
They’d barely pulled onto the highway when Jeonghan started hounding Y/N about her interaction with Mingyu the night before. 
“Well, we didn’t pull a ‘John Tucker Must Die’, but let’s say we were inspired by it. And others helped,” Y/N said casually, sipping her coffee. Jeonghan thinks she looks cozy in the passenger seat, shoes kicked off and feet pulled up into the seat. One of the jackets from his back seat are over her lap as a blanket. He likes the look of it and doesn’t mind driving her around. 
“So this isn’t your first scheme, huh? No wonder you’re so good at it,” Jeonghan teased and it earns him a light slap on the arm. 
She’s laughing anyway. “Contrary to what you might be thinking, I don’t do this type of thing often. Mingyu happened to deserve it.”
Jeonghan believed that. “Tell me what happened,” he insisted. 
Long story short, Mingyu and Minseo dated while she and Y/N were roommates. This is a total surprise to Jeonghan because the way Y/N describes it is that Mingyu was head over heels, to the point that Y/N spent very little time in her room that semester. Her exact words are things like ‘sickening’, and ‘obsessive’, and ‘love-bombing’. Jeonghan couldn’t recall ever seeing his friend like that, or even hearing of a girlfriend so serious. It had apparently worked for Minseo for a while - that is, until she came across him cheating on more than one occasion.
After the first time, Minseo had come back to the dorm in tears. Y/N encouraged her to break up with him right away. He showed up the next day with flowers ‘just because’, and Minseo was weak back then.
The second time, Minseo was mad. The next day, he showed up with some luxury jewelry saying it reminded him of her. She couldn’t stay mad. 
The third time, it was Y/N that came across it. She’d been dragged to a party by Minseo and found him in the bathroom with someone that was definitely not Minseo. Mingyu panicked because he hadn’t known Minseo or anyone close to her was going to be there and as far as he knew this was the first time he’d been caught. He begged Y/N not to say anything. Y/N agreed, but the next day she slid a large whiteboard she’d stolen from a study room downstairs into their dorm room and demanded Minseo seek revenge. 
They started a private Facebook group simply called “Kim Mingyu Must Die.” It turns out that Minseo was far from his first victim. The way Y/N puts it, it practically became a full-time job for a few weeks simply managing the volume of traffic that was coming through. Screenshots, phone call recordings, even some videos of him partaking in some unflattering locker room talk. The kicker was the growing list of embarrassing sexual escapades. Mingyu was not nearly as smooth as he portrayed himself to be. 
Minseo broke up with him by inviting him to the Facebook group.
Jeonghan had to pull over because he was crying from laughing so hard. “Show me right now! No, invite me!” He was positively gleeful the rest of the drive. 
When he parked the car on the street outside of his parents’ house, he noticed that Y/N didn’t move to get out of the car right away. “You good?” 
“It might be a little late to ask this, but are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Jeonghan asked, but he thinks he already knows the answer. At least part of it. This is temporary. The initial plan wasn’t to lie to their families - or his family that is. He wasn’t sure if her family even knew about him and hasn’t brought it up because it seems like a sore subject.
“Have you ever brought a girl home?” Y/N asked, but she’s not looking at him, examining the cheesy Christmas decor that his mom insists on putting up. 
Jeonghan has to laugh because the situation they’re in should make it obvious. “No.”
“What have you told them about me? I assume I’m not a total surprise… right?” She looks at him with wide eyes. 
Just like that it’s his turn to look away because he definitely can’t look at her when he answers. “I told them we met in class. That you were pretty, and funny, and took absolutely no shit.” Jeonghan picks at some fuzz on his sweats to keep avoiding her eyes. “I wasn’t sure how much you wanted me to say. But they’re looking forward to meeting you.”
She reaches out and captures his hand and he grips back reflexively, looking up at her. She’s not shy about physical touch with him, never really has been since all of this started, but it almost makes him feel giddy every time she initiates the contact. “You’re okay with me being here?”
“Yes, I wouldn’t have invited you otherwise.” His answer is automatic and honest. “Are you though? I can take you home. We haven't gone in yet.” He means it. He’d start driving again and tell them he’s running behind and Y/N couldn’t make it. Or maybe even bail entirely just to stay with her back at her apartment. There were a couple hours on the road to think of a decent excuse.
Her grip gets tighter on his hand and she looks back at the house. He patiently waits for her. “I’m not used to what you might consider a normal family dynamic. I’m going to be awkward. Really awkward, probably.”
“We’ll make it work. I’m just glad you’re here and not alone at home the whole break.” 
She looks like she’s steeling herself. “Will you hold my hand?” 
Jeonghan’s heart could explode. “You know I will. As soon as I can put the suitcases down.”
He keeps his promise. As soon as the suitcases are placed in the entry way, Jeonghan is helping her with her coat and shoes. There’s a yell from the kitchen. “Is that my son?!”
“Yep!” He yells back, before turning to Y/N and offering his hand. 
His parents are warm. It’s the best way to describe it. When Y/N spots them, they’re in the kitchen cooking dinner together. Both are wearing cheesy Christmas aprons and their smiles are huge when they spot Jeonghan. He has to drop Y/N’s hand to hug both of them and it kind of looks like they’re squeezing the life out of him. But as soon as he’s got some space between him and his parents, his hand is on Y/N’s back. It’s grounding to her if only for a moment. 
“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” he says simply. To her surprise, she’s pulled into a hug by both of his parents. At the same time. She tries to be polite but she’s totally overwhelmed by it. Jeonghan waves them off, “Okay, okay, don’t scare her off, please.”
As soon as they back off, she’s close to Jeonghan again and she hopes it doesn’t seem rude. She cares about what they think and she can’t pinpoint why in the moment. Jeonghan’s hand falls to her back like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She doesn’t know what to do with herself but his mom leaves very little time to stress. 
“Y/N, how’s your baking?” Y/N says ‘okay’ and Jeonghan says ‘amazing’. His mom smiles again, handing her a whisk. “Great, you get to help me make dessert.”
Hours later, after dinner, Jeonghan says they’re going to turn in for bed early. He makes the usual excuses like traveling, but really he can see that Y/N is still totally overwhelmed and needs the opportunity to regroup. Upstairs, he points her to the bathroom across the hall for a shower and he takes the chance to tidy up his room. Since he’s been with her, he’s made an effort of trying to keep his space clean in case she comes over. Last time he was home to visit he wasn’t with her yet, so it’s not in the greatest condition. 
While putting fresh sheets on the bed, he tries not to think about how they’ve agreed to share his room for the duration of their trip. His sister’s coming in tomorrow so her old room is not an option beyond tonight. Y/N insisted he not sleep on the couch, and Jeonghan let it be known that her sleeping on the couch was never even an option. 
This is a boundary that they haven’t crossed yet. They might spend just about every waking moment with each other, but there had been no sleepovers yet. He trusts that she’d tell him if she didn’t like the sleeping arrangements or if she has any ground rules for the next week or so. She’s not usually shy to tell him what she’s thinking. But this is most certainly a test of his restraint and he doesn’t want to mess everything up.
When she comes in, he doesn’t look at her right away, too busy shaking a pillow into a pillow case. “Feel better?” 
“Yeah, thanks,” she says, but the crack in her voice makes his head snap up. Her eyes look puffy and red and he can only assume she’d cried some while in the bathroom. Some guilt is settling in. Maybe he hadn’t realized just how overwhelmed she was. He wonders what her life was like before, as a child, as a teenager, if a few hours of basic kindness and warmth from his parents has her like this. 
He throws the pillow down and opens his arms. She walks right into them, wrapping her arms around his waist. He finds himself practically folding himself around her, bending some to put his head next to hers instead of on top. He can smell her shampoo and his hands rub her back without much thought. His T-shirt is starting to get wet and he’s pretty sure it’s not just because of her freshly washed hair. 
Jeonghan waits for Y/N to pull away first and when she does, he’s ushering her under the covers. Whatever stress he had about this moment is null and void now because it’s a no brainer to slide into the sheets next to her and pull her to him. Without much of a fight, she puts her head on his chest again, one arm wrapped around him. He mindlessly alternates between patting her wet hair and rubbing her back, his other hand holding hers where it sits on his chest. He’d like to never leave this spot because it means a lot to him that she’s willing to be like this with him. 
“Want to talk about it?” He whispers after a long time. Or maybe it’s only been a few minutes. Time is moving differently right now. There’s a sniffle below him and his lips press to the top of her head before he even realizes it. 
“I’m sorry. They’re nice. I’m not used to that.” 
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jeonghan insists. “I’m sorry it’s not what you’re used to, but it can be here.” 
He’s not sure why he said it. As soon as he does, he realizes he must have forgotten again that this is temporary. In just over a month, he can’t keep that promise. It should have been obvious from the start to Jeonghan, but this ‘break up’ was going to feel like a real one. When that happens, he won’t be bringing her back here to see his family, though he’d like to. He won’t be spending every waking moment with her then because all of it will hurt too much. It already does in a way with the anticipation of the ending creeping up on them. 
He feels tears pricking his eyes and there’s something jagged about his breathing. It’s like she has a sixth sense about why because she squeezes his hand. “We’re making a mess of this, huh?”
It sounds like maybe he’s not the only one who keeps forgetting, but he’s afraid to ask. He laughs and it’s a bit watery. “Yeah, you could say that.” 
Y/N is twisting now, nearly laying on top of him. His body heats and hardens immediately at the feeling but his emotions are starting to become all over the place and it distracts him. She props her head on her hands as they lay flat on his chest, looking up at him. There’s something irresistible about how he’s pushing her hair back and holding her face while the other hand grazes the skin of her back when her shirt creeps up. It’s entirely too intimate to be fake anymore and he can see she knows it too. This moment isn’t to prove anything anymore. Neither of them will say it outright. 
He’s always admired her for how she can compose herself, but he likes that she doesn’t bother often at this point with him. She looks and sounds vulnerable when she whispers, “How do you want to proceed?”
He understands. This has gotten too intense, too serious. She’s giving him an opportunity to back out right now, three month agreement be damned. They can go home and say it just didn’t work out and it’s too bad. Maybe they can even stay friends because they stopped digging this hole they’re in and start climbing out together. 
Jeonghan takes a deep breath and his throat burns. “Let’s call it off after New Years.” 
Her smile is a little shaky. “Ok. Two weeks. Let’s make the most of it.”
He smashes his lips onto hers and she responds immediately, her hand flying up to tangle in his hair. He really did plan to make the most of what little time he had left. They could start climbing out of this hole in two weeks, but not now. He wanted to, no, had to keep digging while he still could before this was all over because he would need the good memories later.
Y/N begins soaking up the warmth that is the Yoon family the next day, knowing she might not see them anytime soon after all this, or ever maybe. She soaks up the maternal energy Jeonghan’s mom constantly feeds her by baking, decorating, and wrapping presents. They gossip over wine and trash TV, and Jeonghan’s sister joins them when she’s home and not visiting friends while she’s in town. His sister is hilarious and Y/N immediately enjoys watching how she pokes fun at Jeonghan when they bicker, which is every single moment they’re in a room together. Y/N is an only child so the dynamic is new to her, but between the shouting matches and headlocks they appear to love each other. Then she spends time playing games and having snowball fights with Mr. Yoon, who’s a bigger kid than either of his actual kids. He likes to laugh and his horrible dad jokes have her in stitches. 
Then there’s Jeonghan. When she said they should make the most of the rest of their holiday, she hadn’t expect that it meant he’d be glued to her the whole time. There were not many moments that he wasn’t touching Y/N in some way, not that she would ever complain. 
And it didn’t stop when they crawled into bed each night. It might start innocently at first, but the moment either one of them leaned in to give a kiss, it became heated quickly and one was on top of the other. She was soaking that up too. The feeling of sitting on his lap with his hands up the back of her shirt, grazing and gripping her back as he kissed her made shivers run through her. Or feeling him laying on top of her between her parted legs while his tongue dipped into her mouth lit a fire she hadn’t experienced in a long time. 
If she was being honest, it had never felt like this with anyone before, period. Not that she had experienced something like this with anyone else besides Seokmin, but it had never been like this with him either. No clothes had even come off yet between she and Jeonghan and it was one of the best experiences of her life. Far better than thinking about him in the middle of the night while she touched herself back home. 
She wasn’t proud to admit it, but there were times that she grew a little self-conscious of her inexperience compared to his significant amount of experience. She wanted to measure up to what he’d had before. However, most of that worry washed away with how he reacted to her touch. She’d run her hands into his hair and he’d sigh. She’d bite his lip or neck and he’d gasp. She’d run a hand up the back of his shirt when he was laying on top of her and leave scratch marks and he’d groan into her mouth. It was intoxicating to get those little reactions and know that he was as turned on as she was. Even if he didn’t give her those little sounds, she could feel how hard he was when he pressed against her. 
And he made sure to find what she liked too and keep doing it over and over. His hand in her hair was her favorite, but the runner ups were things like his hands running up her thighs to her ass when she was in his lap, or his mouth and teeth on her neck. Not that she hated anything he did. It all felt like heaven. 
They’d come very close to taking things too far many times. When they were at that tipping point, Jeonghan would be the one to pull back and lighten his touches, a clear signal that it was time for a breather. Despite how hard he was against her, he had stopped every time this happened. His restraint surprised her given what she’d heard about him and even seen herself. He’d never seemed to hesitate to sleep with someone. She was forced to consider that maybe he just didn’t want to have sex with her and it stung a little. But maybe that was a good thing in the end because, even though they’d agreed to call things off when they got back, the way they enjoyed this made things messier. 
But if he ever did offer more, she was going to take it. He might have had restraint but she didn’t think she would. 
It’s Christmas Day and the festivities were long over. Y/N’s had a somewhat emotional day because she’d expected to sit on the couch and watch the Yoon family open their gifts. The good vibes and hot chocolate would have been more than enough for her, but then they started handing her presents. She’d checked the tags with watery eyes and, sure enough, they were for her. Jeonghan’s hand had stayed on her back as he watched her open the presents as a silent show of support. They weren’t overly personal or expensive gifts. Books, a sweater, a set of glittery pens. It was enough to know that Jeonghan had given them a few pointers though. 
Now it’s the middle of the night and no longer Christmas Day even, and Jeonghan’s got his front pressed tightly against her back. She can feel his soft breaths in her hair. “Hannie?” He hums sleepily. “Is it weird that I got you a gift?” 
She hears his breath catch and then he tightens his arm around her. “No, I got you one too. Wasn’t sure when to give it to you though. If you even wanted it. Does it still classify as a Christmas gift now?” 
He’s giggling and it makes her giggle too. “If it’s in Christmas wrapping paper, then yes.” Y/N rotates a bit to see him, though he’s so buried in her hair she’s not seeing much. “Do you want yours?” 
One eye peels open and then he’s grinning. “Okay.” Y/N is up in a flash digging into the bottom of her suitcase. She and Jeonghan sit on the bed facing each other and Jeonghan has very little hesitation about opening the gift when she hands it to him. When he peels the lid off the box and lifts the tissue paper, he stops. She’s afraid maybe she’s made a mistake, especially when he sniffles a bit. He admires the simple frame holding a familiar picture. It’s one of the many that Jieun took of them at the party a week ago. It’s the moment where they’re giggling after their first kiss. 
“How did you do this? We left the day after this was taken.” Jeonghan gets lost in the photo. 
“Jieun sent me the pictures. I got this one printed and bought a frame when your mom and I went out the other day for more baking stuff.” 
She’s getting nervous, but then he laughs, wiping his eyes. “So sneaky. Do you want yours?”
“Okay,” Y/N answers softly. She doesn’t know what to expect and she’s really nervous now. She’s not used to gifts, usually refuses them because she feels so awkward accepting them. Jeonghan opens the drawer of his bedside table and pulls out a small box. He carefully places it in front of her. 
“I’m sorry if it’s weird, but it made me think of you.” She wants to say there’s probably nothing he could do that she’d find weird. Instead, she picks up the gift and gently unwraps it. She lifts the lid up and something shiny catches her eye. It’s a silver ring with suns and moons on it. When she takes it out of its cushion, the outside layer of the ring spins. She can feel Jeonghan’s eyes on her but she doesn’t know how to react so she keeps examining the ring. 
“It’s - uh, it spins because you like to play with my rings like that. And the suns and moons reminded me of how you doodle them on your notes all the time.”
She still can’t look at him, but she mumbles, “You surprise me, Yoon Jeonghan.” She slides it onto a finger and it fits. She’s not sure how he got the right size. 
“Is that a good thing right now?” He jokes, but there’s a tinge of anxiety in his tone that gives him away. 
Y/N swipes all of the boxes and wrapping paper out of her way and lunges for him, crawling into his lap. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her in even closer. She’s hiding in his neck when she mumbles, “Yes, it’s my favorite thing.”
Jeonghan and Y/N drive back the day after Christmas. Jeonghan tries to keep a positive attitude, but he dreads going back because it reminds him that the clock is ticking. He thinks Y/N might be feeling the same way, though she’s wearing a mask again. At least it’s a happy one and not her usual poker face. He grips her thigh the whole way home like its an anchor and hers sits on top. 
It feels bittersweet to arrive back to his empty apartment. Seungcheol won’t be back for another few days. This is the longest he’s been away from Y/N in weeks, but they both agreed they need to do some laundry and catch up on some things. Jeonghan thinks this is only a taste of the distance they’re about to have because he doesn’t know how to broach the topic of being friends after all this. 
But he’s glad they’re on the same page later that night because just as he’s about to slip on shoes to go to her apartment, she knocks on his door. She says it’s because Vernon’s away still and she didn’t want to be home alone, but they both know it’s because they don’t know how to sleep apart now after just a week of it. He pulls her into his bed and when he can’t breathe from kissing her anymore, he falls asleep with his face in her neck. 
The next night, it’s Jeonghan who knocks on her door and she opens it like she’s been waiting for him. He’s laying with his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as she threads her fingers through his hair. He so close to sleep but her hand stays busy in his hair and it seems like she’s not as sleepy at all with the pace she’s keeping. So he asks what she’s thinking about. 
After a long beat, Y/N finally asks, “would you ever have sex with me? If I asked?” 
He lifts his head up, nearly hovering over her now. He knows his look is intense, but he can’t help it. “I’d give you anything you want. All you have to do is ask.” He means it. He waits and watches her while his fingers twitch against her stomach. He’d been so careful to pull away every time it seemed like that was where things were headed because the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel pressured or complicate this whole thing further. But he’d fold the moment she asked. He knows it and he’s okay with it. Wants it even. 
Y/N’s hand laces through the hair at the nape of his neck and she’s scanning his face carefully. “I want you.” 
He lets her pull him down and her kiss is soft. He feels her hand shake on the back of his neck. He’s hovering over her completely now, arms braced around her head. When they run out of breath, he runs his lips down her jaw and onto her neck. “Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.” Something like a sigh and whine escapes her lips. He’s not doing it to be cruel or tease her. He really just wants to do everything to please her as long as she’ll let him. He places a few pecks up under her ear and then sucks at the spot and she gasps. “Come on, baby. Tell me.”
“Clothes off, now.” He sits back on his knees and follows her command immediately because her voice right now is one of the sexiest things he’s ever heard and it makes him throb. He peels off his shirt and sweats and he’s about to ask for permission to undress Y/N but she’s already tossing off her hoodie and yanking her sleep shorts down her legs. His brain is trying to catch up with the fact that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath the hoodie, but Y/N is impatient and pulls him back down to her by the shoulder. A groan bubbles up from his chest into his throat. 
He wants his hands everywhere all at once. Her skin is warm and feels so soft under his touch, and he loves the sigh that she lets out as his hand come up her stomach to her chest. She’s so fucking responsive and he’s never wanted anyone more in his life. When she flat out moans as he pinches one of her nipples lightly, he has to pull back just to look at her. He wants to keep working her up like this, but he’s also working himself up at an alarmingly rapid rate. 
He cups her breast to squeeze and kisses her again, before barely pulling back to whisper against her lips. “What now?” He’s switching hands to give attention to her other breast and she arches into him. “Where do you want me?”
“Lower, please,” she says and he thinks he could come totally untouched. The need in her voice worms its way into his brain and he kind of hopes he never forgets it.
“You don’t have to say ‘please’ with me, Y/N. At least not right now.” Because he’s decided that if she ever lets him do this again he’ll make her beg until she cries. But not now. She can have whatever she wants. 
His hand skates down her stomach to the top of her panties, a cute pair that has polar bears skiing on them. He smiles against her cheek because he loves it. Loves that she doesn’t have to even try to be the hottest woman he’s ever seen, even without all the lace. Loves that she’s so lost in his touch that she doesn’t show a hint of embarrassment about it. His fingertip finds the band of her panties and runs underneath the edge and he loves how she shudders. He pulls his finger out and runs his hand down to totally cup her over the material now and her eyebrows are pinched. He rubs softly, feeling a wet patch forming under his fingertips. He pulls the panties to the side and gives a soft, experimental stroke to her lips, dipping between. 
It makes whatever control he thought he had snap. Now he was moaning with her because she was soaked. “Fuck, baby. Did I do this for you?” 
She nods, hand now gripping his bicep like an anchor. “You always have,” Y/N sighs.
Jeonghan feels like a man possessed now. His fingers dip into her wetness before they land on her clit and he starts circling slowly. “Did you touch yourself like this thinking about me? Did you make yourself come?” She doesn’t answer because she’s gasping and her nails are digging into his arm. “Answer, baby.”
“Yes. Many times,” Y/N grits out. 
Jeonghan’s pulling back, hands leaving her as he leans back on his knees. “Show me.” His tone is demanding and her eyes snap open. He’s never seen her look so surprised and maybe that makes sense because he just told her he’d do anything for her. After this, though. He needs this. “Show me how you touch yourself, how you make yourself come. I want to see it.” 
Y/N feels like she’s on fire. “But I want you to touch me.” She whines but it doesn’t seem to matter because something has shifted in Jeonghan’s eyes. A hardness that she’s never seen before. 
His hands reach down to grab her knees, lightly pushing them apart. “And I want to see you come before I touch you. Then I’ll make you come as many times in as many ways as you can take, I promise.” His intensity numbs her mind and she wonders how much she can take from him if he’s like this. His promise replays in her head and she’s fucking aching for something, anything. 
So she slips her panties down her legs and tosses them somewhere, she doesn’t care, and spreads her legs wide. One of her hands finds one of her breasts, rolling her nipple, and the other slides down between her legs. She would usually do this with her eyes closed, but she can’t because the way Jeonghan’s eyes are tracking her movements makes her drip. 
She slides two fingers inside of herself right away and sighs at the feeling, but she feels herself flutter around her own fingers at the way Jeonghan’s breath hitches. He’s watching closely, eyes glazing over, lips parted a bit. Her fingers pump in and out at a slow pace and Jeonghan’s hand grips her knee. Now both of her hands are between her legs, one rubbing her clit and the other pumping three fingers in and out. Her high is approaching fast. Jeonghan’s now centered himself between her legs, both hands on her inner thighs, spreading her as wide as she can go, nearly beyond her flexibility. Her orgasm slams into her, her eyes snapping shut, but Jeonghan’s still watching because he’s holding her legs open when they try to close reflexively. 
Y/N sags back into the bed feeling boneless. When she opens her eyes, Jeonghan sounds a little out of breath. She sees his cock twitching in his boxers. The hand that was just inside her comes up in a ‘come here’ motion and he obeys immediately. “Open.” His eyes flare in shock. “Open so you can taste me.” His pupils are totally blown out, but his jaw drops, tongue sticking out. Three of her fingers dip into his mouth and he moans around them. 
After only a few licks, he’s gripping her wrist and pushing it back onto the bed over her head. His other hand lightly closes around her throat and she feels in her eyes roll back and jaw drop at the touch. His tongue is in her mouth and she can taste herself. Then he’s moving fast, his tongue dragging down her neck, her chest, to her center. “Oh, baby. I hope you can handle it because I want to see that over and over again.” 
Y/N wants it even if she can’t handle it. The moment he’s laid between her legs, hands on the inside of her thighs again, she’s gripping his hair and pulling him forward. He’s groaning when his mouth first touches her cunt. He doesn’t hesitate now, doesn't wait for her to tell him what she wants anymore. His tongue laps across the entirety of her pussy, getting a good taste of her before he starts an unforgiving routine. His tongue dips into her over and over and just when she’s close his lips move to close around her clit until she’s close again. Then repeat. She must be gripping and pulling his hair painfully now to keep him where she wants him to no avail, but it just makes him moan into her cunt louder.
Tears are filling her eyes at how overwhelmingly good everything feels and now she’s babbling, gripping the sheets. “Please, Hannie. Your fingers. Want to cum.” Two of his fingers slide in immediately and they feel so much better than her own, stretching wider and reaching that place that’s always just out of reach for her. He finds it quickly, rubbing circles into it. His lips close around her clit again, tongue dancing across it, and tears are streaming down her face now. She’s not sure she’s breathing. 
Her vision goes white and she has no idea what she sounds like. He holds her legs open, letting her ride it out. When some sense comes back to her, she mumbles, “Holy fuck, how did you do that?”
Jeonghan’s giggling against her thigh and she snaps up, propping herself up on her forearms to look down at him. This can’t be the man that just made her see god with his tongue. She smirks and he notices the shift immediately, raising an eyebrow in question. “Your turn, now.”
His mouth pops open. “What - no, baby, you don’t have to do that.”
“You said I could have anything I want, right?” He nods quickly. “Then I want your cock in my mouth.” 
Y/N watches with glee as his eyes roll back in his head. “Baby, you can’t say things like that!”
“Why not? You don’t like it? I thought you wanted me to tell you what I want and you’d give it to me.” She knows she’s playing with fire because he could have her coming again in moments if he wanted to, but she likes how fast he folds. He’s flopping next to her on the bed and pulling her into a heated kiss in moments. 
“Yeah, of course I like it. I like anything you say,” he mumbles against her lips and doesn’t stop her when her hand slides from his chest all the way down. He gasps into her mouth the moment her hand makes contact, rubbing his cock through his boxers and then giving a soft squeeze. His eyes are shut tight. His hand snaps out to grip her wrist, but he doesn’t make her stop her motions. “Baby, I’m not gonna last long if you do this. I’ve already been close so many times tonight.”
Y/N ignores the warning. If she can come more than once, so can he. She continues rubbing him, pressing light kisses to his lips and cheek while he looks a little lost. “Tell me something, since you already know my secret. Have you ever touched yourself thinking of me?” 
“Yes,” he whispers, eyes still shut tight. 
Y/N hums next to his ear now. “Tell me what you were thinking about. What made you come?” His hips jerk up to meet her motion and she grins. “Come on, baby. Tell me what you want.”
The grip on her wrist tightens and then suddenly he’s gripping her throat again as he laughs deep in his chest. “You evil woman, using my own words against me.” His lips land harshly on hers but he has to pull away to moan when she adds significant pressure to his cock. 
Her fingers dip into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down enough to reveal his cock. She becomes wetter by the second as she takes him into her hands. He’s falling into her neck now, broken moans with every stroke of her hand. The fingers of her other hand thread back into his hair again like it’s her favorite thing to do, but this time she tugs hard. His cock twitches in her hands. “Tell me what you think about when you touch yourself and I’ll let you come.”
Jeonghan sighs and Y/N thinks she’ll never get enough of watching his eyes roll back like this. “I think about you on your knees with my cock down your throat. You crying on my cock as I ruin you. You creaming all over me.” She strokes him faster, expecting that to be it, but it’s not. He’s getting worked up and words are spilling out fast. “You moaning my name. Crying my name.” 
Y/N can’t help it. She’s already pulling away from him and kneeling between his legs. He whines at the loss but she shushes him. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?” The words have an immediate effect, his face falling into an expression she’s never seen on him before. Something like awe maybe. He nods hesitantly. “Good. Then let me taste you, too.” She’s leaning down to hold his cock again. As soon as her head is in reach, his hands are combing through her hair and she’s unsure if it’s to hold her hair back and be helpful or keep her there. Maybe both. 
She gives him a few strokes and he looks like he’s not breathing as he watches. Pride floods through her when her mouth finally wraps around his tip and he throws his head back. He’s not the only one that can tease. She alternates between sucking lightly, then deeply, licking and then pulling her mouth away all together. The way he grips her hair when she slides her mouth all the way down to the base feels so nice that she moans around him. And the way he makes this little disappointed noise when she pulls away completely is so cute that she keeps doing it. 
He’s becoming desperate, hands starting to push her down farther and hold her in place, hips thrusting up to be deeper. There’s a constant stream of curses and moans and praises falling from his lips and it seems like he doesn’t want to look away but sometimes he can’t help it. Her tongue runs against his tip as she strokes him fast with her hand and now he’s begging. “Baby, please. Y/N, I want to come. Please let me come.” 
Y/N comes up for air to say, “Go ahead, Hannie.” It only takes a few more pumps of her hand and a couple kitten licks of his tip before he’s shoving her down by the back of the head. He groans as he comes, body shaking a bit from the intensity. 
She releases him when his hand on the back of her head relaxes. His hands blindly reach for her to drag her up his body. His hand his firm on her chin and between the bliss on his face there’s an edge of that hardness she saw when he demanded she touch herself earlier. “Did you swallow it?” The question makes the corners of her lips turn up and she shakes her head. “Let me see.” Her mouth pops open, tongue out carefully. Then she closes her mouth and swallows, opening her mouth wide again to show him. He doesn’t look long before he moans, pulling her by the chin into a kiss. His hands are gentle now, pulling her onto his lap to straddle him. 
“Holy shit, where have you been all my life?” He’s laughing against her lips. 
Y/N’s giggling too, “Like you haven’t had any of that before.” She doesn’t mean it as an insult and he knows it. She just never expected to be able to surprise him in bed like this.
His hand is combing through her hair, holding her against his lips. The low laugh he lets out is secretive almost. “Y/N, it’s never been like that. I think I saw the light for a second.”
Y/N slaps his chest with a laugh now. “You’re so dramatic!”
“No, really. If we go any farther, I might lose it. You’re going to ruin everyone else for me more than you already have.”
“Do you want that? For me to ruin other people for you?” Y/N is careful to ask the question lightly, but she can see that he understands. Moving on after this will be harder if everything gets compared to what they’ve already done and what they might do next. She knows that’s how it will be for her. 
His hands are so soft against her waist as they rub up and down and the way he’s looking at her makes her want to cry. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” She asks. 
Jeonghan is sitting up now to be face to face with her. “Cry. I don’t like it, not like this.” He places a soft kiss on her lips. “And yes. You’ve already ruined everyone for me in so many other ways anyway. I’ll take whatever you give me.” 
Her hand grazes his cheek and his eyes flutter closed. “Why don’t you ruin everyone for me too? Make me remember it.”
Jeonghan is looking at her like he can see right through her. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. You don’t know how much I want this.” His voice his so raw that her heart is cracking a little. This is the closest they’ve come to speaking openly about the unspoken feelings and desires they might have gained for each other. He’s called this whole thing off but the way he’s looking at her right now is at such odds with that decision. 
“I can assure you I want it as much as you do, if not more,” Y/N promises. His grip on her waist is tight now, blunt nails digging into her skin. She leans in close, lips hovering over his. “Please.”
Jeonghan responds to her immediately because the desperation in her tone matches how he feels exactly. His hand goes back to her throat and he pushes her by it, rolling her onto her back and shoving off his boxers with the other hand. Her legs fly around his waist as he gets on top of her and she holds onto his shoulders as he grips his cock to run it along her folds. He wants to wait, to slow down, to make it all last longer, but he’s on autopilot now, totally driven by how much he wants her. No, it’s really closer to a need now. He can’t imagine she wants this more like she said, though. It’s impossible.
His tip slides in and then he’s kissing her deeply, holding both of her hands above her head, threading their fingers together. He slowly pushes in and they give matching broken moans at the sensation. Her lips stop moving against his once he’s fully seated inside, then her head tilts back. He’s kissing her neck, nipping at it and leaving marks, letting her adjust. 
“Okay?” Jeonghan asks, coming back up to her lips. The kisses are so soft compared to what they were moments ago and he can feel Y/N melting. He’s so proud that he can have that kind of effect on her. That she places any kind of trust like this in him. 
“Yes. Please move.” 
He starts slow, an experimental drag almost completely out. Y/N starts to whimper in complaint but it turns into a cry as he slams back into her. He see stars at the way she’s squeezing around him, the warmth and wetness consuming him. He sets a fast pace. When he lets go of her hands, hers plant on his shoulders and his are everywhere. Her hair, her throat, her chest, and finally the back of her thighs as he pushes them up against her chest. The angle is maddening to him and her eyes are watering again when he looks down at her face. “Hannie, more.” 
“Tell me who makes you feel like this, baby.” There’s something so possessive about the demand and she must like it because a moan rips from her throat and she clenches on him. She’s getting close to the edge again and he can’t wait to get her there over and over. 
“You, Hannie.” He grips her hair, tugging her to meet his eyes. 
“Whose cunt is this? Who going to make you come like this?” They’re selfish questions but he needs to know. Needs to know that she’ll remember this and compare it to every other interaction she ever has. He knows he will for the rest of his life because he’ll never find anything like this again, in or out of the bedroom. Jealousy flows through him thinking about someone else in his position. He has to make her remember it. 
Her eyes are rolling back and he lands a soft slap on her cheek to get her to look at him again. She moans at the touch and he feels like he could come already. “Hannie.” Everything she says comes out as a moan or cry now. Tears are streaming down her face and he presses a sweet kiss to the cheek he’d just slapped, totally at odds with everything else he’s doing to her body right now.
“Already crying on my cock like a good girl. Now you just have to come all over it. Do it, baby.” His hand finds her clit, rubbing quickly. 
He thinks she stops breathing as she comes. Jeonghan’s praising her in her ear because he can see the intensity of it all, can feel it, and for the thousandth time tonight he can’t believe he’s being allowed to make her feel like this. He slows down his movements now, kissing her cheek and mumbling, “Good girl.” His hand sweeping up and down her body seems to make her relax so he keeps doing it. He presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Want more?” Y/N nods numbly. “Words, baby. I need you to tell me it’s okay or if you want to stop.” 
Tears are pouring out of her eyes again and she’s begging for real now. “More, please.”
Another sweet kiss to her lips. “Baby, I told you you don’t have to beg. Just tell me what you want and it’s yours.” 
“Don’t care what it is, just keep going.” 
Jeonghan moves fast, pulling out of her and getting to his knees. Before she can complain, he’s roughly flipping her over onto her hands and knees. His hand gently pushes her head down onto the mattress and she moans as he grips a handful of the fat of her ass. He lands a sharp spank and before she can even cry out, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock into her folds again. He slides in easily, groaning again. “Fuck, you feel like heaven.” He sits deep in her like this and the way she’s arching makes him think she likes this position, which is good because he has no idea how many times he’s imagined this exact sight. His imagination pales in comparison to reality. His hand slides from her ass to the middle of her back. The touch is soft and then suddenly it’s not. He yanks on the ends of her hair and pulls out of her, slamming back in. The cry she lets out echoes in the room.
His pace is brutal now and his hands are everywhere. At one point he even pulls her arms behind her back and holds them there while he gropes her breast. She comes for a fourth time like this, harder than before, and he thinks she must be made for him. He meant it - it’s never been like this. Nothing even comes close. Their bodies are becoming slick with sweat and he can see her arousal dripping down her inner thigh when he leans back. 
“I’m close, baby. Will you come with me? Please?” Jeonghan chokes out. He reaches down to her clit, rubbing fast, because he’s dangerously close to bursting. 
“Jeonghan!” She looks like she’s panicking at the intensity of it all and when she finally tips over the edge, she sobs. He fucks her through it, but the way she’s clenching on him and the sight of her tears has him tipping over the edge too. She lets out another sob as he fills her up, coming deep inside.
Her breathing is jagged and he recognizes the signs. She’s drifted pretty far, totally overwhelmed, totally unaware now. Jeonghan places his hands under her hips to help lower them to the bed, sliding out of her. He’s laying next to her, stroking her face, hair, and back soothingly when she really comes back to any sort of awareness. 
She looks as dazed as he feels. Sluggishly, she slides into his arms. They lay there for a long time just breathing. He knows she’s crying, can feel it drip on his neck where her face is buried. He doesn’t say anything because by now he is too, so he pulls the covers over them. They’ll deal with it tomorrow. 
Over the next four days, Y/N and Jeonghan don’t leave each other's side for more than a few minutes at a time. Their friends all trickle back in but Jeonghan and Y/N are too busy trying to crawl into each other’s skin. What little they have to be around others, Jeonghan is pressed up against Y/N’s back or Y/N is in his lap. Their friends make jokes about turning down the PDA a notch. They don’t listen for now because they’ll have to eventually anyway. 
Speaking of PDA, simple touches escalate quickly now. Jeonghan’s hand lands on her thigh and she’s pulling him into the bedroom. Y/N’s fingers run through his hair and he’s folding into her, pushing her back onto the couch. They’ve christened nearly every room of their apartments in a matter of days and they’ve most certainly been caught a few times. Jeonghan doesn’t feel embarrassed, has never felt embarrassed about that sort of thing outside of the times that Y/N was the one to catch him with someone else before all this, but it’s surprised him over and over that Y/N seems to give even less of a shit. When her hand lands on his crotch at the dinner table surrounded by some of their friends, that becomes apparent. 
It’s New Years now and Y/N jokingly calls it their last hurrah. He laughs but he’s feeling so fucking raw about it and he’s sure she can hear it too. She doesn’t stop him when he pushes her into a corner at the party they’ve agreed to attend and smashes his lips onto hers. They’re already kissing when the ball drops and the crowd cheers. She drags him out by the hand not long after and as soon as they close the door to his apartment she’s on her knees, taking his cock into her mouth. He pays her back tenfold, first with his fingers, then his mouth, then his cock. It’s overwhelming how insatiable both of them seem to be and they don’t sleep that night. 
It’s never been like this with anyone, he’s never needed anyone the way he needs her. And it’s not just about the sex. He wants to glue himself to her so that he never has to be away from her. Somewhere between Christmas and now, he’s come to terms with the fact that he loves her - that he’s in love with her. There’s no other explanation for this suffocating feeling. He thinks he has been for a long time now and it’s crushing him, making his chest ache.
There are tears in both their eyes the next day as Y/N pulls out her little notebook and glitter pen. They’re in their booth for what might be the last time together. Jeonghan knows he can’t sit here again without her. They don’t even order anything besides a plate of fries because neither of them are very hungry. Her eyes level with his across the booth and though her eyes are so watery they're threatening to spill over, she gives him a smile. “How would you like to proceed?”
Act Three
Initially, Y/N pitches making it look like she’s the bad guy. She even has some ideas jotted down of how to do that. Jeonghan thinks she’s overly concerned about maintaining his new image now and refuses to let her take the fall for any of it. Refuses to even hear her ideas. He takes the notebook from her and rips that page out, crumbling it in a ball and dropping it on the table. He pointedly ignores her frown and makes another suggestion.
So, just like they started this mess, they decided to do it casually. Wait for the right opportunity to bring it up. Jeonghan hasn’t seen her in a few days now and he’s feeling a weird mixture of agony and relief about it. Distance is probably good if he’s ever going to get over this, but he’s having to stay busy to ignore the itch to find her wherever she is right now. If he’s still for too long, it might consume him. Y/N’s absence is the exact opening he’s looking for, though he doesn’t want to talk about her. He feels sick. He has for days - since he came home from the diner on New Year’s Day to be exact. 
He and his friends are drinking at home tonight. The snow is coming down fast and none of them wanted to go far, so they pick up a couple cases of beer at the convenience store around the corner and pile up in his and Seungcheol’s living room. “Haven’t seen Y/N in a few days, what’s she up to?” 
Jeonghan shrugs at Jihoon’s question. “Not sure.” He swallows hard around the sip of beer. 
“Not sure? I thought you guys were attached at the hip,” Mingyu laughs but it’s not unkind. His teasing has lost its mean edge when it comes to Y/N because, like his other friends, Mingyu is totally soft for her. Jeonghan feels like he’s swallowing battery acid when he drains his drink, reaching for another one with a shrug. 
“We broke up, so I’m not sure what she’s up to.” He tries to say it casually, but it doesn’t really come out right. It’s so fucking hard to remain casual about this, so he focuses on anything else but his friends who have gone silent. 
“Broke up? Hannie, what happened? It seemed like things were going so well.” Joshua sounds as shattered as Jeonghan feels. Jeonghan can’t look at him because he’s just called him a nickname that Y/N uses, or used he guesses, so he keeps picking at the label on his bottle. 
“It wasn’t going to work out.” 
“What did you do?” Seungcheol’s voice is hard. 
Jeonghan expects to be asked this, expects that it will look like his fuck up despite their best efforts to rehabilitate his image. Y/N and Jeonghan had talked about that too. They’d had to discuss it weeks ago because there were whispers around campus that it would only be a matter of time before Jeonghan slipped up and they were trying to get ahead of the assumptions.
He levels with Seungcheol who looks very angry. Flatly simply because he doesn’t have the energy, Jeonghan answers, “Nothing. Like I said, it wasn’t going to work out. It was mutual.” At least that last part was true. 
“Hyung…” Chan starts. “I’m sorry. You seemed really into her.” He kind of looks like he’s just been told his parents are divorcing and he has to choose who to live with now, so Jeonghan looks away. 
“Yeah, it’s too bad,” Jeonghan mumbles, downing half of his drink in one go. He’s filled with so much bitterness about the whole thing, but right now specifically about how they all seem so devastated by the ending to something that they were convinced could never happen. “Guess you guys were right, I don’t have it in me.” His eyes are burning so he closes them. 
“Han,” Mingyu lets out in a blend of exasperation and admonishment. “We weren’t right. We were very wrong about it, about you. And we’re genuinely sorry it didn’t work out. We like her and we like you two together.”
“Are you sure it can’t be fixed? Maybe you guys should give it a few days and then talk,” Joshua says hopefully. 
For a brief moment, Jeonghan imagines what that might look like. What would he say? How would Y/N react? They’re thinking it’ll be an “I love you, take me back” kind of conversation, but it would really be a “please take me back, for real this time” kind of conversation. 
He remembers her sliding the notebook across the table to him with the pen sitting on top. There wasn’t much on the page because there just wasn’t much to this phase, but she’d jokingly drawn a signature line on the bottom of the page. He had taken her notebook and signed everything they’d drafted this whole time just to make her laugh but the action had a sort of finality to it that was sobering. They’d both proved their points, so the job was done. So he’d signed it too while neither of them so much as cracked a smile.
But now he really did feel like he’d signed his life away like she’d joked all those months ago. “I don’t think so, Shua.” Jeonghan recognizes that he’s completely bummed out his friends and he could really use some space now that this wound has been ripped open again. He drains the last of his drink and excuses himself. 
Every semester starts a new routine and Y/N’s holding onto the predictability like a buoy in the middle of the ocean. She’d spent so much time with Jeonghan near the end of last semester that now it feels weird to never see him. They don’t have any classes together because he’s only taking a couple and doing an internship off campus. And anyway, it becomes apparent that he’s avoiding her the same way she’s avoiding him. She’s not even sure which one of them started it first. Things were left so raw even though they agreed on all of it. 
It burned her badly when she told her friends that she and Jeonghan had broken up. She'd had to bring it up randomly because they hadn’t asked. After a few cursory questions about why and what he’d done, she didn’t miss how their shoulders relaxed. They looked relieved by the news and it hurt so badly that she started distancing herself from them. She’s the first one to volunteer for an extra shift at the library and when one isn’t available she pretends she’s drowning in homework although her classes are the easiest she’s ever taken. She doesn’t have breakfast with Vernon anymore, claiming she’s always late or not hungry, and locks her bedroom door when she knows Wonwoo might be crashing with them for the night because it’s a childhood habit of his to hog her blankets and she can’t be around him right now. She doesn’t go to the cafe that Minghao works at anymore. When she can’t avoid them and Soonyoung and Junhui tell her jokes or Seungkwan wants to serenade her with a new playlist, she smiles but doesn’t really know how to laugh with them anymore.
The loneliness was becoming crippling but she couldn’t bring herself to spend time with them when she was doubting that they meant it when they said they wanted her to be happy back in November. Fake or not, she’d been happy in Jeonghan’s company and they were thrilled to be rid of him.
The person who refused to let her be lonely surprised her though. Seungcheol had shown up at her door the day before classes started and all but demanded her schedule. He walked with her to and from campus most days and invited her to lunch with his friends, who were still surprisingly warm to her. She recognized he was worried and was trying to fill a void, but he never mentioned Jeonghan. His actions made it clear. They’d began to call her a friend so that’s what she was. The break up didn’t change that. Although on paper it felt like history was repeating itself like it had happened with Y/N and Seokmin, this felt so different and sometimes it made her want to cry. They didn’t look at her with pity like her friends did a year and a half ago. Her friends hadn’t even asked if she was okay beyond that one conversation about the break up, but Seungcheol had been careful to check in without naming Jeonghan specifically. He made sure she ate and asked her how she slept. He kept her from overworking when he could.
So she and Seungcheol had settled into a routine on most Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. They’d usually come back to the apartment and hang out for a while, and maybe even eat dinner together. She’d even convince him to crack open a textbook or work on a paper sometimes. On this particular day, they’re freezing as they walk into his apartment after trudging through the snow. Even though Jeonghan lives here, she almost never sees him. Seungcheol seems to be strategic about his timing and goes out of his way to make sure they don’t run into each other.
Seungcheol starts some ramen and he’s telling her how he found out that Joshua is ring shopping now. “That’s so cute!” Y/N means it. Joshua and Jieun were sweet together and very obviously in love. She thinks they’ll make it. 
Y/N interrupts to ask if he wants hot chocolate. When he says ‘sure’, she jumps up to start it. “Do you think he’ll propose soon?” She’s asking as she reaches into the cabinet on her tiptoes, fingers hooking around the handle of the mug and sliding it off the shelf. 
“Who’s proposing?” 
Y/N lets out a yelp as the mug slips from her hand, crashing to the floor, broken pieces of ceramic hitting the tile at her feet. Her breath catches and Jeonghan is on her in seconds. She hadn’t even heard him come in - probably would be exiting quickly if she did - but he’s gripping her elbow to pull her back from the mess. “Are you okay?” 
She can’t breathe now and her eyes are filling with tears, panic flooding her veins. “I’m sorry, it slipped.”
“Baby, I don’t care about the mug.” The pet name seems to come out of his mouth so easily and it only heightens her panic. She tries to put her hands over her face, but Jeonghan intercepts them. “Are you hurt?” He’s examining her hands, palms first, then flipping them over to look at the backs. His fingers are soft and warm as they graze the ring he got her for Christmas and she’s full on crying now. She’s vaguely aware that he’s glancing to check her feet too, but she’s wearing socks and slippers. “Baby, talk to me,” he presses gently.
“I’m fine. I’m not hurt. I’m sorry I broke the mug. I’ll replace it.” The words bubble up fast and she feels like she could sob. Her hands start to shake in his. 
Jeonghan pulls her into him. The scent of him makes her body sag and her tears soak into his dress shirt. She’d forgotten he’d have to dress up for his internship at the law office. She tries to pull back because she doesn’t want to ruin his shirt, but he’s mumbling into her hair. “I told you, I don’t give a fuck about the mug, baby. It’s okay, I’m not mad.” 
Things are suddenly too much and when Y/N pushes him at arms length, he lets go. “I’ll clean it up.” Y/N is moving toward the cabinet holding the broom and dustpan, because she really needs something to do and really needs some distance between them to regain some composure. 
“I got it,” Seungcheol says. She’d honestly forgotten he was there for a moment and she feels kind of ashamed that he’s had to see all of that. “Go take a breather.” 
In Seungcheol’s bathroom, she cries hard, feeling exposed like a live wire. Y/N is nervous to go back out there, but Seungcheol doesn’t mention it as he slides her a bowl of ramen and a mug of hot chocolate and pointedly picks a new topic. Jeonghan is nowhere to be found. 
It’s Valentine’s Day. Seungcheol knows today might be hard for two of his friends. Y/N has plans with Minseo and he’s relieved to hear it. She sounded excited about a girls night. Jeonghan is a different story. Seungcheol’s been tiptoeing around Jeonghan’s moods since the beginning of the year. They all have, really. Jeonghan doesn’t show up for much anymore, and when he does it’s kind of like the lights are off and no one’s home. 
That’s why he’s surprised when Jeonghan agrees to go to the singles mixer that Phi and Zeta are hosting. They almost didn’t ask him, because they didn’t want it to seem like they were rushing him to move on. It’s the first instance that Jeonghan has expressed an interest in going out since his breakup. Not a single hook up in sight, though Seungcheol is wondering if tonight might change that and he feels conflicted about it, thinking about how it might get back to Y/N. To make up for the lack of hook ups lately, there’s been more than enough drinking. Seungcheol’s been known to party hard often, but he can recognize when someone’s at a cliffs’ edge where it’s not longer for fun and has become self-medicating. He watches his roommate come home with alcohol every other day and drink until it’s time to go to bed. 
Jeonghan agreeing to attend the party should have been the first red flag. Seungcheol is talking to a girl when he spots Jeonghan throwing back shots. He keeps pulling away from the girl whose trying to be on his arm and whisper to him between each one. He finally pushes her at arms length at one point and Seungcheol doesn’t know what he says but it must have gotten the point across because she moves on to someone else.
Then Seungcheol spots him doing a keg stand. Most people are cheering, but Seungcheol makes eye contact with Jihoon across the room and they know something’s up. Well, something’s been up, but it’s getting worse it seems. It’s when he sees Jeonghan trip over his own feet and giggle as he rolls into the floor that Seungcheol’s had enough. He apologizes to the girl he’s been talking to and has already promised to take home, excusing himself. Mingyu’s not very happy to be pulled away from the girl he’s making out with in the kitchen, but even he recognizes a spiral when he sees one.
Chan and Mingyu have Jeonghan by each arm to hold him up as he sways. Seungcheol tries to unlock the door to their apartment quickly, and soon Jeonghan drops to the couch unceremoniously in a fit of giggles. The four of them stand around for a moment, silently looking between each other before it’s decided that there needs to be some sort of check-in. Too bad Joshua’s not here to partake because he’s out with Jieun tonight.
“Doing okay there? Tough night?” Jihoon starts, trying to keep things light. 
It doesn’t appear to be tough because Jeonghan is still giggling to himself. “Yeah, Valentine’s Day sucks,” he slurs. “Being in love sucks. I don’t know how Shua does it.”
It’s really not a surprise to anyone that Jeonghan feels this way. They could all see it plain as day when they were together and you don’t mourn a relationship the way he has been if you don’t feel that way. “Why don’t you try to fix things, Han?” Seungcheol suggests. “I really think she misses you too.”
Jeonghan pinches his eyebrows. “No, that defeats the whole purpose of our plan.”
“Plan?” Chan asks.
“It was all fake. We just wanted to prove a point.” Jeonghan’s frowning now, the only indication that he’s not asleep. 
Mingyu stammers. “Fake? How - Jeonghan, why would you do that? Why would she ever agree to that?”
His eyes fly open as his head snaps up and though he’s looking a little like a bobble head, he looks defensive. “It was her idea!” He flops back down. “You guys thought I couldn’t be serious about someone and she wanted to prove that she was over Lee Seokmin.” He fakes a gag at the name ‘Lee Seokmin’. “Besides, she’ll probably start dating Minghao any day now.” Suddenly he’s looking really pale. Jihoon shoves a trash can under Jeonghan’s face just in time. 
Mingyu and Jihoon force Jeonghan to rinse his mouth out and drink some water when he’s done throwing up and help him into bed. Chan offers to take out the trash and clean up after Jeonghan. Seungcheol’s stuck in the same spot, hands on his hips. Guilt is clawing at him and he decides he can’t watch this situation spiral anymore. 
Seungcheol is kind of surprised when all of Y/N’s friends agree to meet. They pull together multiple tables in the diner so they can all sit together. It’s convenient in a way that Y/N is working tonight and that Jeonghan went straight to bed with a bottle of alcohol. Most of Y/N’s friends are not being cold, but Seungcheol and his friends agree they haven’t seen much of any of them lately despite how well they all got along before the semester started. This whole break up as driven a wedge between the two groups again and it’s like they don’t know each other all over again.
Plates are mostly empty when Wonwoo finally asks Seungcheol, “So, not to be rude, but why did you want to meet? You said it was about Y/N.” 
Seungcheol glances at his three friends that were with him last night. He feels bad because he hasn’t had the opportunity to fill Joshua in on all this. But it needs to be said anyway. “Jeonghan and Y/N were not really dating.”
The confusion is obvious across everyone’s face. Soonyoung is the first one to finally say something but it comes out in a laugh of disbelief. “What?! You can’t be serious about that.”
“I’m very serious. Jeonghan spilled the beans last night while he was drunk.” Seungcheol confirmed and he was thankful when Mingyu, Jihoon, and Chan nodded along. He needed witnesses because he realizes how crazy all of this might sound. 
“Why on earth would they do something like that?” Seungkwan sounds angry.
Well, Seungcheol’s familiar with that emotion so he matches it. “It sounds like we all drove them to it.” 
“What the fuck does that mean?” Wonwoo snaps. 
Seungcheol and Mingyu glance at each other and Mingyu shakes his head. He knows Mingyu must be feeling pretty ashamed at how he’s instigated this whole thing because Seungcheol’s feeling it too. Seungcheol bites back his pride and answers. “We’re assuming that it started when we made the bet that he couldn’t date anyone.” 
“You guys made a fucking bet about her?” Minghao is raging and it gets the attention of the waitresses behind the counter and they share a look of anxiety. Seungcheol needed to take control of this fast before they get kicked out. He doesn’t think they’ll agree to meet again if this conversation ends now. 
“And I regret it immensely. We all do because we love Y/N now that we know her,” he snaps. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter because the bet never went anywhere. She turned him down immediately. And then out of nowhere they were dating months later and Jeonghan said he had no interest in reviving the bet.” Seungcheol huffs, crossing his arms and falling back in his seat. “Last night, he said it was to prove that he could do it and that it was even her idea.”
“Why in the world would she come up with something like that? What would she stand to gain from this?” Junhui scoffs like he doesn’t believe it. 
“It was something to do with Lee Seokmin, apparently. Whoever that is,” Jihoon shrugs. It’s like a switch flipped. Some of Y/N’s friends sigh, some hide their heads in their hands, some close their eyes. It’s clear that name means something to them. 
“Who’s Lee Seokmin?” Chan asks firmly.
They silently seem to nominate Wonwoo to answer and he huffs, yanking off his glasses to rub his eyes.  “He and Y/N got together freshman year of high school. They were cute together. He seemed to have a good effect on her, brought her out of her shell some. And then last year, he abruptly announces he’s landed a role abroad and he’d be moving in a matter of days. He dumped her just like that. Nearly seven years down the drain.” 
“Tell the whole truth,” Minghao’s all but demands and after a long moment, Wonwoo continues though he looks like he doesn’t want to. 
“We kept in touch with him so we knew he was dating one of his costars in a matter of weeks. But -“ Wonwoo’s planting his hands on the table in front of him, leaning forward. “You guys don’t understand. Y/N was totally blindsided by the break up. We all were, really. The last thing we wanted to do was make it worse… so we didn’t tell her he was already dating someone else. That came back to bite us in the ass when he visited in November and she found out anyway. And then she’s suddenly dating Yoon Jeonghan.” 
Seungcheol bites his tongue at how Wonwoo says his roommate’s name like a curse, but Mingyu doesn’t. “So what? You can stay friends with someone like him but heaven forbid Y/N spends any time with someone else.” 
“Yoon Jeonghan is so different from Seokmin,” Wonwoo scoffs and everyone recognizes it for the insult that it is. 
“Maybe that’s a good thing.” It’s the first time Joshua’s spoken this entire time. He’s usually soft about disagreements, usually playing the role of peace keeper and referee. His expression is anything but kind now and so is his voice. “You guys stayed friends with someone that dumped your other friend after years and you think Jeonghan’s the problem here?”
“Yeah, and how’s he holding up? How many people has he slept with since this supposed ‘break up’?” Seungkwan sneers. 
“None.” The answer is firm and loud from everyone in support of Jeonghan, because it’s clear the table is very divided when it comes to him. Seungcheol is livid now because he knows Jeonghan’s not a bad guy and never has been despite his old habits. He’s beginning to understand why Jeonghan felt the need to rehabilitate his image in such an extreme way.
“He’s turned away every single person that’s approached him, sometimes pretty brutally. Last night was the first time he’s gone out all semester and he got absolutely trashed, which he was already doing at home on the regular anyway. He’s suffering. And you know what? So is Y/N. You think I don’t notice how she is around you guys now? She avoids you guys like the plague. Tell me, how much did you celebrate when she told you about the break up? Which, by the way, you thought was real until about five minutes ago. Did you celebrate in front of her or did you at least wait until she left the room?”
Seungcheol’s met with silence and he knows he’s right. 
Mingyu scoffs. “Man, at least I don’t like to see my friends in pain.” 
It’s clear Team Jeonghan has won but Seungcheol doesn’t feel very vindicated by that. He’s about to get up and leave because this isn’t going anywhere. Even has his hands braced on the table to stand when Minghao speaks up. “How do we fix it?”
This gives Seungcheol pause. He remembers Jeonghan mentioning him, that he might date Y/N any day now. But Minghao looks very serious. 
“Why would you do that?” Seungcheol asks. “I hear you might be into her.”
Minghao doesn’t look too put out by the implication and he doesn’t deny it either. “I want to fix it because I want her to be happy. Fake or not, that’s what they were. Now how do we help them make it genuine?”
“Are you suggesting that we scheme just like they did?” Jihoon asks, eyebrow raised. 
“I’m not sure we can compete with their level of scheming. I mean, I don’t know at what point things stopped being completely fake but they were incredibly convincing from the very beginning,” Vernon sighed. Seungcheol almost felt bad for him because, just like him, this was going on with his roommate right under his nose. 
There’s a long beat of silence and then Mingyu sucks in a breath. “I think I know who could help, but it might take some convincing.”
Minseo is not happy. Not by a long shot. She tried to ignore her phone when DO NOT ANSWER tried calling her not once but six times. Plus multiple texts. Her finger is hovering over the block button when her phone rings again. 
She gives him 30 seconds to explain why he was contacting her, but he only needs 5. “We need your help with Y/N and Jeonghan.”
The mention of her former roommate is the only reason she pushes past Mingyu when he opens Jihoon’s front door. “Explain,” she demands, arms crossed. Mingyu has backed down from Minseo’s anger every time they have to interact since they broke up, running away with his tail between his legs, but instead today he hands her an iced coffee, maintaining an even expression. It even looks like the right coffee order. 
“Thank you for coming. We’re all in here.” She refuses to be softened by him and refuses to acknowledge the coffee. Instead, she followed him into the living room. She didn’t expect for the room to be so full. It seemed all of Y/N and Jeonghan’s friends were on the same team today. She’s afraid she knows where this is going. 
Mingyu leads her to an arm chair so she places her coffee on the floor and sits, crossing her legs and arms expectantly. “Explain,” she demanded again. 
Mingyu bites his lip. “Jeonghan and Y/N weren’t really dating. It was fake the whole time.”
Minseo’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I knew that.”
There are cries of outrage and shock around the room and Minseo rolls her eyes hard. If they’d all been better friends, they would have known too. Or it might have never even happened in the first place. Mingyu shakes his head at her. “What do you mean you knew? You’ve talked to Y/N recently about it?”
“You’re not in a position to make demands, Kim Mingyu. I’m here only because it involves Y/N,” she bites. “But if you must know, yes, I’ve spoken to her recently about it because I’ve known since the beginning.”
“Didn’t you try to talk her out of it or something?” Wonwoo cried, throwing his hands up in the air. 
“I asked some pointed questions about the motivations behind it, but I think they actually had some good reasons. You guys have kind of been assholes.” She looks around the room and then rolls her eyes again. “Oh, don’t look ashamed now. I’m not sure I even want to help you guys with whatever you’re thinking.”
“But someone needs to do something. We know Jeonghan’s miserable and I think Y/N might be too, right?” Seungcheol pleaded. 
Minseo presses her lips together. She wasn’t about to rat out Y/N but she’d been incredibly emotional in the days after the ‘break up’, even more so than the real break up with Seokmin. There were quite a few times this semester that she’d just show up at the sorority house because she had no one else to talk to about it or she needed somewhere private to cry. “You could say that,” she answers shortly. “But what are you going to do about it? They’re really good at avoiding each other from what I hear.”
“That’s why I called you. I know Y/N was the mastermind behind the Facebook group a couple years ago, but you’ve gotten a peek into her mind. Help us plan something to get them back together, for real this time.”
Minseo stares at Mingyu, totally perplexed. She can’t believe he’s bringing up the Facebook group that publicly embarrassed him amongst so many women on campus - and she doesn’t miss how confused the rest of the room looks at the mention of it. She also can’t believe he’s so invested in someone else’s dating life to the point of reaching out to her when it appeared he’d written off dating entirely after they broke up. Finally, she scoffs in exasperation. “Yeah, she was the mastermind, so I can’t hold a candle to her. You should have seen the other things she came up with. What you got was tame. And even if we try to pull something on her, she’s way too smart to fall for it. They both are. Their deal seemed pretty final from what I can tell, so maybe we shouldn’t meddle.”
“It shouldn’t be final if Jeonghan’s in love with her. We should try something,” Jihoon insisted. 
Minseo blinks. “He said that? He’s in love with her?” A few people nod, most of Jeonghan’s friends to be exact. Minseo’s purses her lips. “Find me a whiteboard. A big one.”
Thirty minutes later, Seungcheol and Mingyu are placing what she requested in front of her. It looks suspiciously like the ones the university supplies in study rooms in the dorms. Minseo bites back a laugh. Y/N got one of these off the wall, into the elevator, and into their dorm room single handedly a couple years ago without getting caught and both boys look a little out of breath now bringing it in from the car together. It speaks to the determination Y/N had to help Minseo get revenge back then.
Mingyu lets a handful of dry erase markers roll into Minseo’s hand and steps back. They’re watching her with baited breath and she can’t believe they’re so invested and that she’s agreed to help. With a resigned sigh, she uncaps a pink marker, sitting cross legged in front of the board. “We should start with status updates. How they’re feeling, what they’re doing, what their schedules look like.”
To their credit, everyone is fully committed, giving updates to their friends’ current situations. Minseo doesn’t miss that Seungcheol knows way more about Y/N’s side of the board than her own friends do. It’s a glaring sign of the neglect that they need to come face to face with. This is about getting Jeonghan and Y/N back together, yes, but there are some friendships to repair too. 
Then Minseo asks for ideas. Vernon scratches the back of his neck as he offers, “Couldn’t we just lock them in a room together until they work it out?”
Minseo snorts. “Vernon, are you reading fan fiction?” None the less, she writes down ‘forced proximity’. Ideas begin to flow and Minseo believes none of them are all that great, but they’re really trying here. They offer things like setting them up on a blind date, saying one is in trouble to get the other to find them, and waiting for one of them to get sick so the other can take care of them. There are a lot of things on the board but Minseo thinks they’ll both be suspicious of every single one. 
Chan groans, head in his hands. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but what about fake dating? It worked on us, didn’t it?”
Minseo thinks it’s an absurd idea. “Just how would we go about that? They wrote the whole book on this thing. Literally. I’ve seen their notes.” 
“I mean… Jeonghan’s not going on a date. He flat out refuses to do anything with anyone. But would Y/N? If the right person asks? Maybe it would prompt Jeonghan to do something.” Chan shrugs. 
After a beat of silence everyone turns to Minghao. His eyes flare. “No. Absolutely not. I’d do a lot of things for Y/N but I’m not interested in being a pawn in all of this. It’s cruel of you to even suggest it. Plus, she’s not interested and she never has been.”
“That’s not totally true, but I understand. This is already too messy,” Minseo agrees, turning back to the whiteboard. She ignores the questions that come from multiple people and claps her hands loudly. “No! No more hurt feelings here! We’re trying to fix things!”
Begrudgingly, the only thing they can totally agree on is forced proximity of some kind. Jeonghan and Y/N were inseparable before and if they have to be around each other some of that might naturally come back. Seungcheol doesn’t elaborate but he believes it’ll work because he's seen them interact since the break up. They scrap the other ideas and decide to pray for a miracle. 
They had all underestimated the lengths that both Y/N and Jeonghan would go to to avoid each other. It’s been a month and not a single thing has worked so far. The first attempts are simple. Jeonghan’s friends know his schedule and Y/N’s friends know hers now, and they try to make them mesh often. The two groups run into each other at the student union or on the way to class and stop to chat or plan to meet for dinner and drinks, but both subjects of their plot drift to the back of the group, make excuses that they’re late to something, or simply can’t make it. This happens no less than five times and the team regroups to try a different strategy. 
The second one is pretty ambitious and takes some coordination and a little white lying. Joshua convinces Jeonghan to go on a triple date with him and Jieun. He says one of the guys had to drop out last minute and they don’t want Jieun’s friend to be left out. There’s absolutely no pressure to date -  just an opportunity to get out, chat a bit, and get some fresh air, food, and drinks. What Jeonghan didn’t know was that the second couple was Mingyu and Minseo, who only agreed to be seen together because they needed to rope Y/N in as well. Minseo had said she was considering taking Mingyu back and she wanted Y/N there as a voice of reason. Yes, Y/N would be that friend who would have been dateless if Jeonghan didn’t go. 
They all regret this strategy and think it was a terrible idea because it’s so painful to watch how Y/N and Jeonghan both avoid each others’ looks and drink too much. They have to cut dinner short to take both of them home to sleep it off. They make the decision that they can’t use forced proximity if alcohol is involved.
The third and fourth attempts present themselves back to back and it’s sheer luck. First, Jeonghan comes down with a cold. It knocks him on his ass for days and Seungcheol remembers that this idea was on the board at one point. He lets Y/N know that Jeonghan is really sick but Seungcheol has to go to class and can’t stay with him. He asks if she can drop in and check on him. She looks conflicted but hesitantly agrees. When Seungcheol comes home, Jeonghan’s trudging through the kitchen and Y/N is nowhere to be found. “Did you make soup?” Jeonghan asks as he looks into the pot on the stove top. It’s still warm.
Seungcheol tries not to look smug. “No, must have been Y/N. I asked her to stop by since I’d be gone for a while. Didn’t you see her?”
Jeonghan looks crestfallen. “No… she must have come by when I was asleep.” Despite saying he hadn’t had an appetite in days, Jeonghan has three servings of soup in one sitting and there’s something warm and relaxed about his expression when he’s done.
As luck would have it, the next week Y/N comes down with food poisoning. Vernon comes back from class and realizes Y/N had never left for her own classes because she’s too busy with her head over the toilet. Wonwoo says Mingyu is suffering from it as well since they ordered the same thing the night before. 
Knowing that Jeonghan is home, Vernon makes the same excuse that Seungcheol did. He has to go, but could Jeonghan check on her while he’s gone? Jeonghan hesitantly agrees. When Vernon comes back, he finds Jeonghan sitting on Y/N’s bathroom floor with her head in his lap. She seems to be asleep while he strokes her hair. He’s got his eyes closed too, head leaned back against the wall when Vernon knocks. 
Vernon asks if he needs anything, and even offers to help get her back to bed in case he’s itching to escape. Minseo had insisted that straight up trapping them was the absolute last resort. Jeonghan declines and says he’ll take care of it. Vernon doesn’t put his headphones in when he goes to bed, hoping to catch when Jeonghan leaves, but he falls asleep before that happens. 
It’s late when Jeonghan leads Y/N out of the bathroom with a hand on her back to steady her. He hasn’t said much to her since he came in a while ago. Just an ‘I got it’ when her hair keeps falling in her face as she vomits or a simple ‘here’ when he hands her a cup of water to rinse her mouth out at the sink. But she’d been sick more than once and the cycle repeated. The same holding back of her hair, the same gentle rubbing of her back, the same cup of water. When there couldn’t be anything left to make her sick, he sat in the floor beside her and pulled her to lay down. She’s not sure how long she slept but that’s where she woke up, his fingers combing through her sweaty hair. She’s so tired that she can’t even cry at the feeling or be embarrassed.
Jeonghan helped her into bed and Y/N tried to grab his hand when he turned away. “Are you leaving?” Her voice sounds terrible for so many reasons that she doesn’t want to think about much. Tonight is the closest he’s been since she dropped that mug in January. 
She’s so surprised when his lips turn up at the corners. “I’m just turning off the light.” She lets him go, and as promised, he comes back. Instead of laying down, he sits up against the headboard. His arm comes around her shoulders and she falls into him, head landing low on his chest. She’s afraid to talk because she doesn’t want to run him off. His hand rubs her arm up and down soothingly.
“Do you feel better?” He asks after a long time. He sounds sleepy. She thinks about Christmas break at his parents’ house when she hears it.
“Some. Thanks for coming to help me.” 
He hums and it vibrates under her ear. “I’ll always come help you.” 
“Really?” Y/N’s voice cracks weakly. She hopes he thinks it’s because she’s been sick, but he squeezes her arm like he knows it’s not that.
“Yeah. I meant it when I said I’d give you whatever you want.” 
This conversation is starting to feel like ripping open an old wound but she clings to him anyway. “Did you think I’d want space?”
“Don’t you?” He’s so soft when he says it. 
“No,” she answers quickly, then she hesitates. “Do you?” 
There are so many beats of silence that she loses count and then he mumbles, “No.” He lays his head on top of hers. 
“Maybe we’re not so good at scheming,” Y/N laughs, but it feels and sounds hollow.
A laugh rumbles in his chest under her ear but it actually sounds genuine, like he thinks of it fondly. “What are you talking about? Your plan was great.”
“I don’t know. Phase three was pretty weak.” 
He hums. “How so?” He pats her hair soothingly.
“I guess we never talked about what comes… after everything. We just stopped talking, stopped seeing each other entirely.” One hand is still on her head and his other hand finds her ring, spinning it as she talks. It spins and spins and spins and she thinks he might not have anything to say. So she tacks on, “If that’s what you want, I understand. I just… wish we’d talked about it first.”
More spinning. So much spinning that she’s becoming dizzy watching it. She almost misses it when he mumbles, “It’s not what I want. I thought it’s what you wanted.” 
“No, it’s not. I missed you.” It feels good to admit it. Jeonghan’s still spinning her ring, so she keeps talking. “We spent so much time together and then nothing. It’s been hard for me, Hannie.”
Both arms wrap around her now. “I missed you too. I haven’t been myself lately.”
Eventually, Y/N whispers, “How would you like to proceed?” She feels him smile into her hair. 
“Let’s start over.” It’s not a question and Y/N is elated. She sits up. He’s still smiling as he sticks out his hand. It makes her smile too at the familiarity of it all. They’ve done this before and they can do it again. She places her hand in his and shakes. 
“Hi, I’m Y/N. Would you like to be friends?”
“I’m Jeonghan, your new best friend. Nice to meet you.”
The Y/N + Jeonghan group chat gets a text from Vernon first thing the next morning. ‘It worked!!! He’s still here!!! They’re eating breakfast together!!!!!’
Though very few recipients are together that early in the morning, there’s a lot of celebration. Soonyoung even gets the evil eye from his instructor because he received the text in class and let out a gasp. 
A minute later, Vernon sent a follow up text. “False alarm? They say they aren’t back together???”
Vernon doesn’t have a good explanation for their questions because he’s just as confused. They look just like they did late last semester, sitting at the table next to each other, talking, smiling. There are even small signs of affection. But when Vernon ‘jokingly’ asks if they’re finally rekindling their relationship, they both say no.
The following month is confusing. They’re just like they were before, but maybe even worse. They spend every waking moment together outside of class, Y/N’s work, and Jeonghan’s internship. They sleep over at each other’s apartments every night and are often found cuddling together. They start going to parties together again, but often sneak off for what they call a ‘little adventure’ and no one really knows what that means. They post each other on their social medias constantly. 
The first time around there was something almost shy about how they were around each other. Now, that was not the case. They acted like they wanted to crawl into each others’ skin most of the time. There was the usual stuff like hand holding in a crowd, or Jeonghan’s hand landing on Y/N's back or waist. Or when they sat next to each other on the couch or while they were out to eat, Jeonghan’s arm quickly came around her shoulders and sometimes Y/N’s hand landed on his thigh. 
Then there was what Minseo had identified as cuteness aggression. One time, Seungcheol witnessed Y/N showing up at their apartment in a very oversized hoodie, sweater paws and all. Jeonghan had cooed at her, squishing her cheeks and calling her ‘so fucking cute’. Another time, Jeonghan showed up at Y/N’s apartment with a new hair cut and Vernon witnessed Y/N squeal and grab his face while screaming about how good it looked. On both of these occasions, the person receiving the aggression would scoff and push the aggressor away with a blush. The aggressor would say, “You love me.” The person receiving the aggression would roll their eyes and say, “Yeah, I guess I do.”
Then there were the looks. Distinctive from the looks of adoration that they’d give each other when the other wasn’t looking (which still happened all the time), these were dubbed the ‘mind reading’ looks. This usually resulted in pranks or cheating at whatever game they were playing with the group, but one particular time, Wonwoo was a victim of it. Like everyone in the Y/N + Jeonghan group chat, Wonwoo wanted answers. At dinner, he watches Jeonghan and Y/N pick things off each others’ plates and it makes him lose it. “Are you guys seriously not dating?”
Y/N and Jeonghan give identical looks, eyebrows raised in amusement, when someone asks them this. “No, why do you ask?” Y/N asks evenly. 
“You guys are grosser now than when you were fake dating. And I caught you guys having sex back then, so that’s saying something.”
A hush falls over the table because they’d all agreed to not let Y/N and Jeonghan know that their secret was out. However, it doesn’t seem to matter because Y/N and Jeonghan share one of those ‘mind reading’ looks for exactly one second before they turn back to Wonwoo and gaslight the shit out of him. Jeonghan just smiles and says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wonwoo. That would be crazy of us to do.”
And then there were the comments that gave the group whiplash. One day at dinner, Jeonghan is texting his family when he scoffs and turns to Y/N. “I think my mom likes you more than me.” 
Or when they were getting ready to go to a party and Vernon overhears Y/N getting ready in her room while Jeonghan hangs out. That’s not unusual, right down to changing in front of each other. Y/N laughs about a bad hair day and says she’s going to look like a hot mess tonight. Jeonghan laughs and says, “No, you’re just hot.”
The shamelessness of it all has the group in front of the whiteboard at Jihoon’s house multiple times throughout the month but they don't know what to do. Y/N and Jeonghan seemed so happy, maybe even happier than when they were ‘dating’. They batted around theories. Maybe it was because their friendship was genuine while their dating wasn’t. Maybe it was because they were just better off as friends. Or maybe they were actually dating for real and hiding it. 
That last theory has them desperately planning one final attempt because they want nothing more than to celebrate their friends being together and the idea of them hiding it now causes hysteria. They all schedule a last minute spring break trip to the beach and Y/N and Jeonghan easily agree. They even make the drive together and Seungkwan and Chan are forced to sit in the back while Y/N gets passenger princess and aux cord privileges. When they all arrive at the beach house and decide sleeping arrangements, Mingyu asks Y/N and Jeonghan if they’re okay with sharing a room. No one is surprised when they just shrug because they’ve slept in the same bed every night for over a month now. 
Throughout the trip, the group attempts to set up increasingly obvious romantic scenarios. They leave without waking them up in the morning, everyone tiptoeing out of the beach house so they can have a quiet morning to themselves. They basically sprint back from the pier or the restaurant down the block so that Y/N and Jeonghan have space as they walk slowly. When they grill out on the back deck at night, they intentionally play a slow song or two and are elated when Jeonghan pulls Y/N into a slow dance as they giggle. On their last night, they watch them sit on the beach together with Y/N leaning on Jeonghan’s shoulder as they watch the fireworks. 
In the car on the way back, Seungkwan asks if they’re finally getting back together and they say no. They seem to mean it, so the group decides that maybe its time to let this go. 
The Y/N + Jeonghan group chat has been silent for days since spring break when Joshua and Jeonghan hang out after class one day. Y/N is working which is probably the only reason Jeonghan agreed to meet. Joshua watches his friend closely. He does seem happy - the happiest Joshua thinks he’s ever seen him, really. Joshua doesn’t want to ruin the mood, but he really has to know because it’s beginning to drive him crazy. 
“Han, can I ask you something?” Joshua asks and Jeonghan hums. “Are you and Y/N really okay? As friends, I mean?”
“Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?” Jeonghan asks, but he seems kind of disinterested in the conversation, glancing between Joshua and his phone. Joshua’s sure he’s texting Y/N, because he always is when they’re apart. 
Joshua frowns, hesitating. “I mean, you said you were in love with her back in February. I just wondered if that’s still the case.”
Jeonghan looks up at Joshua for real this time, eyebrow raised. “When did I say that?”
“Valentine’s Day, apparently. I wasn’t there, but you had some things to say while you were drunk.”
Sliding his phone onto the table, Jeonghan slumps in his seat, arms crossed. He seems lost in thought. “Is that how you guys knew about the fake dating too?” Joshua nods in confirmation and Jeonghan hums, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. “Sounds like you guys might have been doing your own plotting. Don’t think I forgot about the triple date.”
Joshua chortles. “Yeah, we thought you two might figure that out. Look, I’m asking because if you’re happy with where things are at then we’ll back off. We’ve all instigated so much of this mess. We were just trying to fix it.”
Jeonghan’s still looking at the ceiling and he doesn’t answer for a long time, so long that Joshua wonders if he even heard him or if he’ll even answer. Finally, he sighs like he’s resigned himself to something. He sits up and looks Joshua in the eyes. “Of course, I’m still in love with her. More than I was before, even. And I’ll give her whatever she wants, but I think that’s just friends at this point.”
Joshua frowns. “Have you asked her what she wants? Maybe you’re misreading things.” Joshua’s certain he’s misreading things, actually. 
“I don’t know that I need to,” Jeonghan shrugs. “She’s the one that came up with this whole plan. I guess she could have just dated me if she wanted to do that for real. I would have said yes because I was already into her.”
Joshua gives an exasperated sigh, and Jeonghan just stares. “Can I be honest?” He doesn’t really wait for an answer. “We all think it was real. It might have started as fake and a lot of things were probably coordinated in the very beginning, but it seemed far too natural at some point. I mean, you guys looked so in love it was sickening, and that’s me saying that. You might be calling yourselves friends now like nothing happened but you still look at each other that way. Really, you’re even more shameless now as ‘friends’ than you were when you were ‘dating’.” 
Joshua puts his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes. He’d wanted to say all of this for so long that it feels like he’s bursting at the seams now. “I can’t watch you fall apart again the way you were earlier this year. You wouldn’t eat. You drank every night to go to sleep. You wouldn’t go out, wouldn’t talk. When we did see you it was like you weren’t really there.”
“That won’t happen again, especially if we just stay friends,” Jeonghan insisted. He’s apologized to his friends a few times about how he’d behaved in the first couple months of the year and for causing them to worry.
Joshua couldn’t help but scoff. “And what happens when she moves on and starts dating someone else? Can you stand watching that? Can you stand the idea of being at her wedding in five or ten years as a guest? Jeonghan, I want to believe you’d be okay, but I’m not so sure.”
“So what do I do then?” Jeonghan shakes his head helplessly and Joshua hates to see it. Like his fate is already sealed.
“It depends. What do you want? What would make you happy?” Joshua hesitates, but feels he has no choice but to add on, “Would you move on, too?”
Jeonghan closes his eyes. It takes him a long time to answer but finally he shakes his head. “She makes me happy and I can’t imagine moving on. I just don’t know how to get out of the friend zone that I’ve put myself in, even though it’s far better than nothing. Remember, I’m bad at dating. She was the one that was good at dating and I’m just good at being in love with her. And no, I don’t know if I’ll ever fully recover from this enough to move on.”
“No, you looked like an expert in dating. Still do actually,” Joshua laughed. “It’s the asking out that might need some work. Let us help you,” Joshua was practically begging. 
Jeonghan grimaced. “No offense, but you guys aren’t great at plotting. Everything you’ve done is pretty transparent. Besides, who’s ‘us’?” 
Joshua just grinned. “Are you free tonight?” 
When Jeonghan walks into Jihoon’s living room later that night, he didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t this. Everyone except for Y/N is here and they look very surprised to see him. He doesn’t respond to the questions because he’s too busy reading the whiteboard behind Minseo. He wants to laugh because some of the things that are written down are ridiculous, but he’s actually kind of touched and wonders how long they’ve been doing this. Despite the fact that their efforts were incredibly transparent, they’ve clearly been putting in a lot of work. 
“Scratch everything, I have a new plan,” Joshua announces. 
“And… that involves Jeonghan being here? No offense,” Junhui adds. 
Joshua gives a bit of an uncharacteristically evil laugh. “Yes.” He goes to the whiteboard, taking the eraser from Minseo. He gets rid of everything on the board and then writes ‘Hannie confesses to Y/N’ at the top. Jeonghan groans and almost turns to leave. 
“Joshua, when you said you’d help me, I didn’t think this was what you meant,” Jeonghan gestures to the crowded room. 
“Just trust the process! We’re going to make this work.” Joshua sounds so sure. Jeonghan frowns, looking around the room. They all look hopeful, honestly. Even Y/N’s friends that didn’t really like him. Seungkwan and Soonyoung separate to make room for him on the couch. 
He thinks of what things are like with Y/N now, and even what they were like when it was fake. It makes his chest ache. Because Joshua was right earlier. Not all of it was fake, certainly not near the end. And he’s being driven by the same emotions now as friends. He wonders if it ever really was fake for him. Maybe he could have just asked her out at the diner that night instead of hatching their plan. Maybe she would have just said yes back then. 
He swallows hard. His pride is what got him into this mess, but now he’d have to put it aside if any of these people could help him. He walked to the couch and took a seat. 
It turns out that all of their friends are hopeless romantics. Jeonghan watches as they practically fight over the markers to write their ideas, and those that won’t fight over the markers just start yelling out ideas so someone else can write it down. It’s totally overwhelming the amount of choices he’s being given and Minseo frowns at him when he stares at the board blankly. “Jeonghan, you can’t overthink this. It has to feel natural, so some of this might not work for you and that’s okay,” Minseo says, trying to ease his tension. 
Instead, he laughs. Laughs because Y/N had told him over and over again in the beginning that it had to be natural. Laughs at the absurdity of all of their ideas and how he’d actually do any of it if he thought it would work. 
Then comes the crisis intervention because they must think he’s losing it. Someone takes a picture of the board and then Minseo erases it so they can organize it better. They’re so meticulous about all of this that Jeonghan is kind of perplexed by how none of their other plans worked if this kind of energy went into it. They organize the chaotic list into date ideas, affection, romantic gestures, gifts, and domestic activities. They even argue about what something should be categorized as. For instance, Jihoon thinks flowers are gifts and Junhui thinks it’s just a romantic gesture and doesn’t really count as a gift. 
Then they start asking him what he thinks. His mind is shockingly empty. He kind of expects them to laugh at him when he admits he doesn’t know, particularly Seungcheol and Mingyu who would have enjoyed this type of thing so much before, but instead they frown and start suggesting things even though they’re already on the board and he’s already read it. Buy her flowers. Take her on a date. Buy her a gift (this restarts Jihoon and Junhui’s argument all over again). Write her a love note. Vernon says he should just kiss her and get this over with. Jeonghan shakes his head, though he’s definitely thought about it already, far before he walked into Jihoon’s house tonight.
Ultimately, they give him the list and tell him to do what feels right. They also say that they’ll assist in anyway they can. They add him to a group chat so he can update them and he can’t help but scoff at the name of the group chat when he sees it. 
His mind is racing when he, Seungcheol, and Vernon meet Y/N at the entrance to their apartment complex. She’s just gotten home from work and she smiles, asking how their night was. Jeonghan blindly follows her into her apartment and into her room. He blindly changes clothes, which he’s started keeping here, and gets into bed with her. He barely even glances at her as she changes too, getting ready for bed.
“Something on your mind?” Y/N asks from her pillow. 
Jeonghan does what he calls his best ‘old Y/N’ impression and hopes it’s convincing. “No, I’m good. Just tired I guess.”
“What did you guys get into tonight? Anything fun?” Y/N’s voice is light, but he can tell she wants to prod.
“Just hung out at Jihoon’s, nothing crazy.” What a lie. It left a gross taste in his mouth because not once had he ever lied to her like that, but he wasn’t ready to admit how he’d spent his night. Maybe if all of this worked out, they could laugh about it one day.
Y/N hums, stares through him for a moment, and then finally smiles as she closes her eyes. “Fine, keep your secrets for now.” Jeonghan scoffs, pulling her into him. 
“Nothing bad, I promise.” He’s not really sure if that’s the whole truth either, but he kisses the top of her head anyway. She falls asleep long before him and he sees the whiteboard filled with rainbow hand writing every time he tries to close his eyes. 
Jeonghan is starting to feel the pressure. It’s been nearly a month since that night at Jihoon’s with the whiteboard and graduation is approaching in a matter of two weeks. For some reason, he’d set this as a soft deadline for this little plan to be completed, whether or not it worked in his favor. He’d crossed off a lot of things from the listtheir friends had put together, and even some of his own when the opportunities had presented themselves, with little results.
One Saturday, they both were itching to get out of the house. Y/N had suggested they go to the park and get some sun. Jeonghan had offered to pack up some food for a picnic while they were there. While Y/N showered and got ready, Jeonghan asked the group chat if picnics were considered romantic. The overwhelming reaction was yes, accompanied by hearts and exclamation points, and even a voice message from Soonyoung of him screaming (or maybe sobbing, but Jeonghan couldn’t be sure). So Jeonghan took great care with what he put together while he gave himself a little pep talk. Most of it went out of the window when Y/N came into the kitchen in a sun dress, turning around to ask if he could help her zip it up. His heart pounded as he did it and he was thankful that she was too busy eyeing the food to notice whatever expression he was wearing. The day was nice, but he was a nervous wreck the whole time. She looked too pretty as she laid down in the grass and he felt like a teenager. It wasn’t the right time. 
On Wednesday night, they planned to have a movie night at his apartment. She was wearing his hoodie as she curled up on the couch next to him. He didn’t think much about it when he pulled her feet into his lap and started rubbing them. She sighed and sagged into the couch like she could fall asleep. Seungcheol came in and spotted them, and the excited look on his face told him that Jeonghan might be doing something right, even if he hadn’t realized it.  Before he could work up the courage to say anything, she was already asleep. 
On Friday night, Jeonghan’s new lego set comes in and he can’t wait to put it together. He’d already told Y/N how excited he was for it to arrive, but he was even more excited when she showed up at his apartment that night with things to make dinner, saying that they could put it together afterwards. He was so distracted that she had to guide him through a lot of the instructions. 
On Saturday, they’re at a book store because Y/N is itching to pick up a few new things. He patiently follows her around the store, letting her add books to the growing stack in his arms. While in line to check out, they look at the knick knacks near the register. He hears Y/N giggle and she points to a set of matching bracelets, one with a sun and one with a moon on it. “Wouldn’t that be cheesy?” She says, but her eyes are gleaming with something really special that makes Jeonghan’s heart skip a beat. 
“Yeah, about as cheesy as your ring,” Jeonghan chuckles. She looks at it for a moment too long and he finds himself saying, “Get them. I’ll wear the sun one.”
She gives him a playful look. “What if I wanted the sun?” 
“Then you get the sun. Go on,” he insists, nodding his head at them. She picks up the bracelets, not needing anymore convincing. At the register, the employee comments on how cute they are together. Jeonghan beams when Y/N doesn’t correct her. 
The following Wednesday, Jeonghan is at his internship at the law office. It’s pretty mindless stuff, shuffling papers around and taking a few phone calls here and there, so he spends a lot of his time texting Y/N throughout the day. He’s surprised when she tells him she won’t be going to class. It’s unlike her and he’s immediately a little concerned. Finally, she admits that she’s not feeling good because she’s on her period. He almost texts the group chat to ask for advice, but at the last minute he changes his mind and texts his sister. 
So on the way home, he calls her and asks if she needs anything. After some prodding, she hesitantly asks for tampons. He immediately recognizes this as the Most Boyfriend Task he’s ever been given and promptly asks her to send him what she needs. When he shows up with tampons in addition to some flowers and a slice of cake from the bakery, she cries. This night turns into the Most Boyfriend kind of night as he makes her dinner, throws a load of laundry in that she meant to do earlier, and cuddles her on the couch with a heating pad. 
When she’s just about asleep, he hears her say, “thanks for taking care of me.”
It’s a no brainer to say, “you don’t have to thank me. It’s what you deserve.”
She snuggles deeper into his chest. “You’d make a great boyfriend, Yoon Jeonghan.”
He finds himself laughing. “That’s all thanks to you. You’re a great teacher.” 
She giggles in his chest sleepily. “I don’t remember this lesson. You came by this naturally it seems.” He’s relieved that they can make references to how all this started without any awkwardness. 
He feels like this might be the right time, but it takes too long to give himself a little pep talk. When he calls her name out, she doesn’t respond, clearly asleep. He sighs, kissing her head. 
Then suddenly it’s dead week, and then it’s finals week, and everyone is so stressed by the end of the semester that now is certainly not a good time. He’s not stressed about that. He’s stressed about the whiteboard in front of him. Jihoon was kind of confused when he showed up unannounced but let him in anyway. He can feel Jihoon’s eyes on him as he stares at the board. 
“No luck yet, I take it?” He asks gently and it makes Jeonghan want to put his head in his hands. 
“No, it’s never felt like the right time.” 
Jihoon is quiet for a long time, looking at the board with him. So many things are crossed off. “Maybe there isn’t a such thing as a right time? Maybe you just need to say it.”
Jeonghan chuckles, but there’s a tinge of darkness to it. “What? Just say ‘I love you, Y/N. I’d like to date for real this time’?” He frowns when Jihoon shrugs. 
“It’s a good ideas as any. You’ve been dropping hints for a while now. Maybe hints won’t work.”
“How would I even do that? What setting could possibly be fitting for something like that?” Jeonghan sighs in exasperation. There had been so many seemingly romantic opportunities and nothing had felt right. 
Eventually, Jihoon hummed. “How do you and Y/N feel about heights?” 
Jeonghan’s snapped to Jihoon. “What?”
“I have an idea, but you’ll have to trust me.” 
Jeonghan was feeling pretty desperate so what did he have to lose. 
Finals week is over and graduation was on Saturday. It felt like a whirlwind for Y/N to finally have a degree in hand, one that her parents had never been convinced she could get on her own without their support. If she’d listened to them four years ago, she would be abroad at some prestigious university that her parents had donated heavily to change her acceptance status for. She would be preparing for med school, or law school, or something equally prestigious to fit the family dynamic. Something that her father can brag about in between business meetings or her mother can rub in other rich ladies’ faces about while getting drinks at the country club. She’d kind of expected that her parents might show up for graduation. As a sort of olive branch, she’d sent them an invitation for it. But they hadn’t shown up and that was just as well. Being disinherited and disowned was okay too. 
Instead, she’d been staring at her stupid English degree that she paid for by herself in the apartment that she’d paid rent for without access to the trust fund that had her name on it but had never had access to. And this apartment would remain hers for a while longer because she’d already applied and been accepted to the grad program of her choice at this very university and she and Vernon were renewing their lease. 
Things are good. Better than they’d ever been, really. 
She’s still looking at her degree when there’s a knock on her open bedroom door. Lee Seokmin is standing there. He’d come in for the graduation, but Y/N kind of expected not to see him again before he left. He looks a little nervous, but he comes to stand next to her and look down at her degree too. 
After a long moment, he finally speaks. “I’m proud of you, you know?” Y/N stares up at him while he admires the diploma. It’s the first thing he’s said directly to her since that day in the cafe with Jeonghan last November. “I remember how nervous you were when we started here. Worried about money. Worried about classes. Burning yourself at both ends to make it work. I worried about you a lot back then. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to see all of it work out until now.”
“Are you?” Y/N hopes the question doesn’t sound unkind, but she’s confused. She remembers how he was when he broke up with her. It was awkward, but in a way it was also unapologetic. That’s what had hurt the most about it. Nothing she had said back then seemed to change his mind. 
“I deserve that,” Seokmin chuckles, looking a little embarrassed as he rubs the back of his neck. “But yes. I am sorry - for a lot of things really, more than just that.”
“Do you regret it?” She means the break up, but she doesn’t specify in case there’s something else. This is a wound that’s barely closed. She doesn’t want him back, wouldn’t even entertain the idea if he asked, but this conversation has been put off for long enough and it’s time for some healing while he’s brave enough to approach her. 
Seokmin still won’t look at her. “Yes and no. No, because I really needed to take that role. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. But yes in just about every other way.”
“What about Minnie?” Her question is still not unkind, just curious. 
Seokmin laughs, finally looking at her. “It didn’t work out, which is total karma for how I left things with you.”
Y/N frowns. Despite being upset at how he’d moved on so fast, she’d never wished him any ill will. She couldn’t after all the times he’d had her back over the years. “I’m sorry, Seokmin. That sucks.”
He shrugs with a relaxed smile. “It’s okay. It’s kind of awkward to work with her now, but that’s temporary.” He chuckles again, looking around her room now. “You know, when she found out I was coming to visit, she accused me of wanting to get back together with you.”
This gave Y/N pause. This was a part of the conversation she’d kind of hoped to avoid. “And… is that why you stopped by?”
“No,” Seokmin shakes his head. “I lost my one chance. I’ve just been too big of a coward to give you a real apology, which you deserve, so here it goes.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I threw our whole relationship out like that. I regretted it as soon as I was on the plane. I’m sorry I started dating just like that. And I’m sorry that little secret made it seem like our friends were picking sides.” She must have looked surprised because he smiles at her shyly. “I’ve been caught up on some things. Fake dating, huh?”
Y/N scoffs, but it’s not entirely humorless. “You guys are such gossips.”
“Yeah, we are,” Seokmin laughed and she’d kind of missed how joyful he was. He’d always been such a mood maker. Then his expression turns serious. “Can I ask how things are going there? With Jeonghan, I mean. You guys seem close.”
Y/N isn't sure how to answer. She plops down on the edge of her bed. “That’s a good question.”
“I’m a good listener. Maybe I can help.” That much is true. Seokmin has always been a great person to unload your worries on. It’s one of the things that made her let her guard down all those years ago, even though everything else in her life was bad at that time. When she doesn’t kick him out immediately, he rolls out her desk chair and sits to face her. 
Y/N spins her ring, staring down at it when the sunlight catches it. “I love him. I’ve been in love with him for a long time, I think. It’s never been like this with anyone, but we’ve made such a mess of things. But now things are good. He’s the best friend I could ever ask for. I don’t want to run him off.”
Seokmin shakes his head, chuckling. “I don’t think it’s possible to run him off. Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”
“I don’t think he’d be open to it. I mean, this is the man that agreed to fake date me after he lost a bet. He’s opened up so much since then, I don’t want him to slam the door in my face if I ask for something too serious.”
“Y/N, can I be honest?” Y/N looks up at him and he’s so serious. “I’ve been hearing about you guys all semester. How love sick you were and how gross you guys are now despite not being together. And I saw what they meant yesterday at the graduation and dinner after. You guys look like you’re dating already. I mean the way he looks at you is like you hung the stars. And I know that look well because I used to wear it all the time.” 
Y/N spins her ring some more, looking at him blankly. “So what do I do? You know I’m so bad at letting people in like that. I mean, it took years for me to say ‘I love you’ back when we were together. And I’m just supposed to say it out of the blue now?”
“But you’ve already let him in, more than you ever let me in from what I hear.” There’s no bitterness in Seokmin’s words. “He matches your intellect, he makes you laugh, and he gets you in ways that I only wished I could. I’m kind of surprised to say it but Yoon Jeonghan is kind of the perfect match for you.”
“Yeah, it does feel that way,” Y/N mumbled. 
Seokmin pats her knee a couple times and it’s entirely friendly and comforting. “Stop overthinking it. All you have to do is ask him and he’d say yes.”
“How do you know that?” Y/N’s mind is flashing to all of the times that Jeonghan said he’d give her whatever she wanted. It had never occurred to her that he really meant anything literally. 
Now Seokmin is full on laughing. “Because everyone does. There’s a whole whiteboard about it apparently. Seriously, stop overthinking it. You’ll be happier for it. Trust me, I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.” He gets up and leaves, but Y/N is frozen in place. 
Jeonghan wanders into Y/N’s bathroom midday to find her doing her makeup. She smiles at him as he sits on the closed toilet seat to keep her company. He thinks she looks really pretty in a little white sundress and her hair is already lightly curled. She doesn’t dress up like this much, particularly without all the grunge or black, and he wonders why she’s putting so much effort in for the fair tonight. He doesn’t ask because he doesn’t want to make it sound like he doesn’t like it or make her feel self-conscious about it. He loves anything she does. 
Instead, he watches her put mascara on with comically wide eyes and smiles. “You look pretty.”
She flashes him a smile that could stop his heart and then goes back to the mascara. “Thanks. You look nice too.” He doesn’t believe it because he’s just picked some jeans and a t-shirt, but he thanks her anyway. She’s unusually quiet, and it occurs to him how funny it is that he finds it odd. Last semester he was sometimes surprised if she even so much as looked at him, but now he’s come to expect her usual chatter. 
“Doing okay?” He wonders what it could be about. She’d had a stressful last two weeks cranking out final assignments and stressing about the grade she’d get. Jeonghan had talked her off the ledge multiple times because she nearly had a 4.0 and was already accepted into her grad program anyway. She could relax because she was already set up for success.
He also hadn’t missed the way she looked around the crowd outside of the stadium where the graduation was held yesterday. He didn’t have to ask who she was looking for because all of their friends were already there. He’d seen that she’d sent her parents an invitation, but they’d never graced her with their presence, or even responded to her message. 
Jeonghan thinks his family may have made up for it. Despite the news of their ‘break up’ after New Years, they’d greeted her warmly and even brought her flowers. Jeonghan wasn’t sure how they’d known she wouldn’t be receiving any from her own parents, but he didn’t ask. Maybe things were more transparent back around Christmas break than he’d thought. It had made her happy anyway.
Y/N sighs. “Yeah, it’s just the first time I feel like I could relax in a while.”
“Yeah, I was beginning to worry about you,” Jeonghan teased though it was entirely true. He didn’t like to see her stressed and had mindlessly picked up things like cooking, cleaning, and laundry in the midst of her panic. Since he couldn’t talk her into taking a break, he picked up other things she was neglecting and worrying about catching up on later.
“Thanks for picking up my slack again. Boyfriend material yet again. No! Husband material even,” she teases as she puts on blush now. He thinks maybe he sees a tinge of pink right before the brush actually touches her cheek, but he can’t be sure. 
But it doesn’t matter because he’s trying to remember how to breathe. Her boyfriend material comments have become frequent, but the word ‘husband’ absolutely floors him. The old Jeonghan would be running the other way now thinking he’d be a bachelor forever, but he finds a little thrill in the idea of the title. 
Or a big thrill, if he’s being honest. But only if she’s the one saying it and it has ‘my’ in front of it. 
He fiddles with his rings to distract himself. “Just doing what you deserve. I don’t mind taking care of those things if it makes things easier for you. Besides, we can relax tonight. We’ll get some food, play some games, ride some rides.”
“You don’t want to ride any rides, Hannie,” Y/N teases. 
It’s true, it’s not his favorite thing. But he remembers how her eyes lit up when Jihoon had mentioned the fair. The look was so childlike and pure that, once again, Jeonghan would do whatever she asked if she kept looking like that. Even if it made him nauseous. 
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll go with you anyway.” 
The blush is a little brighter all of the sudden, but she shakes her head. He thinks she’s trying to look busy because her make up seems done. “If you puke on my shoes, I’ll be mad, Yoon Jeonghan.”
He barks a laugh, standing up to place a hand on her back and push her out of the bathroom. “That’s Chan’s job but I’ll let him know.” 
Jeonghan is shockingly relaxed considering where he thinks this night will end up. He and Y/N are the last of their friends to show up and the group has been impatiently waiting by the entrance to go in. Once inside, they go straight to the most aggressive rides because Mingyu insists that they front load all of these before they eat. Jeonghan suffers through all of the spinning and jostling and flipping, complaining that there’s no way all of these are up to code. But every time Y/N laughs at him and drags him by the hand to the next one. 
Finally, back on the ground, Y/N and Jeonghan share a funnel cake. When she brushes powdered sugar off his cheek, he can practically feel the heart eyes he’s wearing. She doesn’t say anything about it. 
Then, they play some of the games offered at the stands around the fair. Jeonghan is pleasantly surprised when he actually wins at ring toss and let’s Y/N pick what she wants. She picks a small plushie, a glittery pink unicorn, and Jeonghan just laughs as his chest warms. 
It’s dark now and he keeps looking at her as they stand in line for the Ferris wheel. The bright, flashing lights from all the rides around them lights up her face every now and then and he thinks this whole idea is so fucking cheesy. But oddly it feels right this time. 
As he helps Y/N slide into the seat of the carriage, Jeonghan spots Jihoon whispering to the fair employee that’s running the ride. Jihoon puts something in his hand and when he turns he gives Jeonghan a not-so-subtle thumbs up. So that’s what Jihoon meant when he said he’d take care of it. He’s buying him time. 
The ride spins slowly and the view is nice, but he’s distracted. He’s rehearsed what he wants to say over and over again with Jihoon an embarrassing amount of times but his tongue feels thick now. But he doesn’t know how much time he actually has up here, so he sucks in a breath and puts his hand on her thigh to get her attention. 
Her head snaps to his and after a split second her hand lands on top of his. Her eyes are concerned. “Feel okay?”
Another deep breath, like he’s jumping off a cliff. “I love you.” The words roll off easier than he expected and he watches her eyes flare in surprise, mouth popping open a bit. He needs to talk fast now. “I have for a while now I think. I needed to say something because it was going to eat me alive.” She’s still quiet and she’s looking right through him. For the first time, she looks really surprised at what she sees. Jeonghan flips his hand from her thigh and she lets him thread their fingers together. “I don’t know how you feel about that, but I need you to know I’m okay with whatever you decide. Even if it’s just friends. Even if it’s less than that.”
She’s silent. It hangs heavy for so long that he starts to spin her ring. He thinks she’s trying to think a way to let him down gently. That she’s planning to leap out of the carriage as soon as it stops near the ground. That everyone that’s helped him at that damned whiteboard has misled him or had it all wrong. 
Jeonghan thinks of all the opportunities she’d given him to back out of their little scheme. He thinks the words are fitting. So he smiles nervously. “So how would you like to proceed?”
Her eyes are watering as she pulls her hand away. This is it, he assumes. 
But just when he is preparing to be crushed, her hands come around his face and she’s leaning in. The kiss is soft and he doesn’t know how to react. Didn’t expect this. Slowly, his hand comes around her waist and the other holds the side of her head. 
When she pulls away to look at him she laughs. “Yoon Jeonghan, did you think I wouldn’t return your feelings?” 
“Yes, I’m sure of it. That’s not the case?” Jeonghan feels like he could pass out because no matter what kind of pep talk he or anyone else gave him, this is not how he expected this to be going. 
She laughs again. “No, it’s not the case at all. I love you too. Very in love with you in fact.”
Jeonghan feels his jaw drop a bit. “Since when?”
“I was sure of it by Christmas. You?” She asks, her hand sliding down to his chest. He’s sure she can feel his heart pound. 
Jeonghan laughs. “Same. We’re idiots, huh?”
“Yeah, you could say that. I told you phase three was weak, but I’m wondering if the whole thing was weak now.”
Their friends are cheering when their carriage stops at the ground and they’re still kissing. Y/N looks shocked at the excitement. “Have I missed something?” She asks after they’re both out of the carriage with feet on the ground again. 
“Maybe a little,” Jeonghan teases. 
Epilogue 
Y/N peers through the sheer white veil, a bouquet clutched tightly in her hands. She frowns. 
It’s because Jeonghan is laughing at her. “This feels like deja vu a little bit, Y/N.” 
“Why are you picking on me on today of all days?” Y/N whines, hand falling to her sides, petals falling to the floor as the bouquet hits her thigh. “You know it’s been a stressful day. Stressful week, even!”
Jeonghan’s laughing again as he steps closer. His hands lift the veil and he places a soft kiss on her lips. No one’s looking at them this time around. “I know, I’m sorry. There are just some good memories like this. I saw her put the veil on you after you caught the bouquet.” 
“I told her I was already married. I shouldn’t be the one with any of this,” Y/N grumbled, gesturing to the bouquet and veil. 
“You’re the maid of honor, you have to do whatever she says,” Jeonghan reminds her, putting a hand around her waist to pull her close. “How are your feet? And your back?” 
“Not great. I’m ready to crash,” Y/N slumps against him, trying not to get make up on his dress shirt. He’s lost the suit jacket hours ago and his tie is loosened. The whole look makes Y/N salivate a little. Instead she says, “I want some champagne.” 
“I know, baby,” he soothes, patting the top of her head. The DJ comes to the mic before he can say anything else. 
“It’s time for the bride and groom to cut the cake! Please gather around.”
Y/N and Jeonghan turn, mostly with Jeonghan’s help, to find the happy couple standing behind a tiered cake decorated with white and pink frosting. Minseo would not consider any other color schemes. It had to match the bridesmaids dresses after all. 
Y/N watches Minseo look up at her new husband, a finger wagging at him as she scolds him. He smiles good-naturedly, nodding along with her. She’s surely warning him to not shove cake in her face. Y/N doesn’t think Mingyu will. He’s too soft for Minseo.
“Weird, isn’t it?” She finds herself mumbling into Jeonghan’s ear
He giggles in her ear. “You could say that, yeah. Didn’t think I’d be at Kim Mingyu’s wedding anytime soon. Or at all if I’m honest.” They don’t say anything else as they watch the newlyweds cut the cake and share a bite, clapping loudly. Minseo looks pleased that she doesn’t have cake all over her face.
As soon as the crowd begins to disperse, Jeonghan is leading her to a seat and she drops into it, kicking off her heels under the table. “Better?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, hands coming to her shoulders to rub gently. 
“Yeah. What would I do without you?” Y/N giggles. 
“Hey, that’s my line!” Jeonghan teases. 
Seungcheol approaches them with a wide grin and a plate in each hand. He hands one to Jeonghan and slides one to Y/N. She immediately notices that there are two slices and she looks up at him questioningly. Seungcheol laughs. “I know the rule by now. One for you, one for the baby.” He walks away without another word.
Jeonghan is chuckling as he sits down next to Y/N. “That is your rule now. Has been for a while now.”
Y/N places one hand on her stomach and picks up the fork with the other. “This baby is a parasite,” she jokes. Jeonghan knows it’s meant in jest so he just shakes his head. 
“I know. I feed your cravings daily, remember? That baby has some strange tastes already.” He lets her finish her cake and when she sits back in her seat, his hand lands on top of hers on her stomach, feeling her matching wedding ring underneath his fingers. “You know, Minseo will forgive you if you’re done for the night. The other bridesmaids aren’t six months pregnant and can handle it just fine.”
Y/N pouts, glancing over to the head table where Minseo and Mingyu are whispering between kisses. She looks back at her husband. “Maybe we can just sit here for a while?”
Jeonghan leans over to kiss her lips and it feels and tastes sweet. “Whatever you want, baby.”
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godspeedviper · 6 months ago
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How the therapists react to your "worst" symptoms - Headcanons
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SFW || TW: mentions of self harm, mention of suicidal ideation, therapy sessions, very brief mention of (unlabeled) disordered eating, mention of psychosis & violent thoughts.
A/N: this was written by someone who has been in therapy for many years and has personal experience with these types of symptoms. this is not meant to romanticize any mental illness or symptoms of it. this is purely self indulgent fluff. just because your experience might be different doesn't make these experiences any less valid. if you don't like this simply do not read it, block if you must, and move on.
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Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow)
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He is the most objective and detached of the lot. Therefore he never seems to have much of a reaction no matter what you do or say to him. He really has seen it all before. This does help you feel less anxious as time goes on, knowing he won't ever judge you or ascribe any kind of morality to your actions.
"If it causes you distress or harm, then we should work towards eliminating it altogether." is his typical response to your concerns about your own coping mechanisms. "You do not owe anyone kindness, just remember to restrain yourself from causing harm whenever possible."
He is the only one to have no discernible reaction to your self harm scars/burns. One day, he noticed an especially fresh one and offered to disinfect and bandage the wound for you. He always gives you space to bring things up at your own pace, when you feel comfortable doing so.
"Not all of us have the capacity to be so gentle, and that's alright." he says about your outbursts. "I'm not known for being the warmest, but that doesn't make me any less skilled at my work, or any less worthy of respect. If you do not hold my lack of socially acceptable agreeableness against me, then you should not hold it against yourself."
Bonus: when you finally have the courage to mention the substance usage he remains as cool and detached as ever. "I am glad you were honest with me so we can monitor for any interactions with your medications. Know that I won't judge you for moderate usage, after all, do we not professionally refer to medications as drugs? It isn't ideal, but it is a way of self medicating. All I ask is that you be fully honest with me about your usage so I can better take care of you."
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Hannibal Lecter (NBC)
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He is surprisingly gentle and very soft spoken, although you were intimidated by him at first and the opulence of his office. He usually greets you with a warm smile and asks how your week went and if you've eaten yet today. He teaches you to enjoy food again, describing it as an art, and asking you to be mindful and present when enjoying a meal. Listen to your body, what it tells you about the ingredients, the quality of the meal, and the hands that made it.
He always asks you what you want to do, making sure to actively include you in your own treatment plan. He thoroughly explains treatment options, medications and their possible side effects, and has you weigh your options. This allows you to really analyze your own reactions and act accordingly when you are alone.
"Now, you do understand I am required to recommend inpatient treatment if you are feeling actively suicidal." he says, when you come in on an extra bad day. "However, I want to trust you and give you the option of what to do from here. If you think it will do you more harm than good, let me know, but you have to be honest."
One day you get the courage to ask why there is a first aid kit on his desk, though you already assume why. He simply looks at you and asks "Do you need it today?" before gently tending to your recent self harm wounds. He never calls you out for it, but he does periodically ask you upfront if you've been engaging in self injurious behaviors. If you respond yes, he asks to tend to your wounds, and if you say no, he celebrates with you. "Good. I'm proud of you for holding yourself back."
Bonus: when you land in the hospital, Hannibal makes sure to go visit you while your therapy slot is on hold. He never calls attention to the circumstances that lead you here, and focuses solely on your recovery and how he can't wait to have you back in the office soon.
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Harleen Quinzel (Harley Quinn)
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It doesn't take long for her to shed her professional demeanor. She makes you feel like you're talking to a close friend, yet manages to never fully lose the "doctor" in her. She offers you fidget toys as a way to ease the tension of talking about such vulnerable and heavy subjects.
She makes everything into a little game or a challenge to motivate you changing habits. Every time you manage to avoid indulging in negative coping mechanisms, she rewards you with a little heart shaped chocolate at the end of the session. On bad days, she simply encourages you to try again and she gifts you a cute bandaid at the end of the session to signify your healing from a bad day (sometimes, the bandaids come in handy for self harm wounds).
"Being childish can be a good thing!" she tells you. "Its important to have a little whimsy in your life. Just because you grew up doesn't mean you have to... ya know, grow up." She encourages you to try and add a little joy to your daily life. You start taking fuzzy tipped pens to work and keeping plushies at home for comfort. Surprisingly, it does help.
Every now and again she asks for your advice or assistance on minor things, such as which dress she should wear for a date, or what show to watch next. Sure, you are technically paying for her time, but this fact alone doesn't entirely relieve you of the feeling that you are burdensome. Whenever that feeling creeps back up, she reminds you of all the times you helped her make decisions until you admit your usefulness with a smile.
Bonus: "Hearing voices or other noises doesn't make you evil." is her reply when she learns of your psychotic symptoms. "Everyone is susceptible to experiencing psychosis. Hell, I've felt it when I was losing sleep in med school. It doesn't make you a bad person."
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Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs)
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You are intimidated by him at first, but his hypnotic voice grows on you. He always sounds so self assured, but never assertive. He has an almost paternal quality to him, making you feel simultaneously comfortable and protected.
He always listens to you intently, you never feel ignored by him. Hannibal is the only one that makes you feel seen and you tell him as much. "Oh everyone sees you my dear, you can be assured of that, but not everyone has the courage to acknowledge you. Keep this in mind for the next time you should feel the urge to do something drastic for attention."
You were worried you would eventually do something to turn him away, as you had to so many therapists before him. However, he simply scoffs at the idea that you could ever do anything that could possibly frighten him or upset him.
When you finally have the courage to tell him about the violent intrusive thoughts he remains as calm as ever. "In the past, we humans had to hunt to survive. We also had to protect ourselves and our kin. As time goes on, that propensity for violence remains, even if our survival is no longer dependent on it."
Bonus: You come clean to him about getting into a fight with someone, being entirely overtaken by rage and paranoia. You call yourself a monster and cry. "I have worked with serial killers, family annihilators, rapists the worst that the world has to offer. I know monsters. You are not one. You wanna know why?" You nod yes. "Because my dear, you have remorse and regret for your actions, they do not. Besides, you would not be sitting here with me if you did not want the anger to control you."
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AO3 || Guidelines || Request || Ko-Fi
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signanothername · 3 months ago
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I know next to nothing about Delta Sans lol... what are some of his main traits and characteristics? /nf
I GET TO RAMBLE ABOUT DELTA LETS GOOOOO
Funny enough, Delta’s canon material isn’t very vast, considering most his canon story is animated, so you can imagine how long it takes to animate and how few animations there are, despite that i just can’t help but love this bitch
Let’s start with basics since you don’t know much, you might see Delta’s Au with 3 names: Ultratale, Vitaltale, and Delta’s tale, which are all canon as they’re all used by Delta’s creator Animated Zorox
Ultratale is the Au’s series old name when it was first animated (and is now cancelled), Vitaltale is the Au’s current name which refers to the new repooted series, Delta’s tale use is honestly unclear for me, but i like to believe it’s more of a general name for the Au
Kay so with that out of the way, Delta is a sans that fused with the human soul of bravery, that’s why he has his signature orange gloves, (and Delta can talk and communicate with the bravery soul inside his head)
Delta is from a Genocide timeline and is the only survivor, so after he defeats Chara (who’s called “Omega Chara” in the Au) Delta takes it upon himself to become a protector of Aus (imagine it as his coping mechanism for losing his own Au fused with Bravery’s sense of protection) but he’s not a protector in the same sense that is Ink, Delta travels from Au to Au pretty much looking for a fight, looking to see if the Au he’s in is in trouble and fighting whoever causes it to save it from the same fate his own Au faced
So he’s kind, brave, righteous and honest… too honest chchchch
But he’s also egotistical, super hot headed, and can easily rage, and despite deeming himself a protector, he’s only a protector to those who need protection, so the poor bitches who threaten the Au? Yeah Delta isn’t above tainting his hands with someone else’s blood (ma boi is passionate about murdering fr fr) in his defense tho he tries listening and talking to them and convincing them (for roughly 10 seconds) if it doesn’t work then he goes for the kill
Look at him telling Cross he’ll kill him (god I love him)
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But he’s also willing to put himself in danger if it meant protecting someone else (basically putting the life of others above his own)
What’s also fun is the fact Delta can easily give up like a normal Sans would, It’s Bravery that keeps him going
But what I also really love is his way of fighting/using his powers, Delta tends to use his own blaster’s jaws as a super speed jet pack, and his fighting style tends to mostly be up close and personal, like this bitch will break bones with his bare hands, and believe me, this bitch sure got stamina cause DAMN
He can even fully fuse with Bravery, like he becomes a glowing orange lamp hcchchchch
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he’s a bit reckless but still smart to know when to stay a safe distance or change tactics
One of my fave things is him using his gloves as armored shoes cause why the fuck not y’know?
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Delta is also semi canonically friends with Color and Epic (semi-canon as in the creators of these three drew them together as the “Epic Sanses Trio” but are not necessarily part of their own respective timeline’s stories chchhcch) but it’s fully canon in my heart <3333
If you’d like to see the actual canon content for Delta, I recommend checking this doc made by @howlsofbloodhounds they’ve done an amazing job at collecting as much as they can <3
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thatnarcissisticfeel · 1 year ago
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I think that a lot of people without NPD have a really poor understanding of "narc supply" or the specific type of positive attention that pwNPD crave. Even the egotypicals who are allies, the ones denounce narc abuse and anti-NPD ableism, don't fully grasp it.
There's this false idea that NPDs like to be worshipped and showered with compliments all of the time, and I mean, yeah, most of us would eat that shit up, but I know that for myself and a lot of other pwNPD it's deeper and much more, I guess, personal?
I don't really know how to describe it, so I'll give an example: As a kid, no one really paid attention to my creative endeavors, my accomplishments, my feelings, etc. And if they DID pay attention, the attention was negative. I could always do better, I could always be smarter, stronger, etc. This came from peers and adults alike. So I developed a coping mechanism where I would tell myself that everyone else was wrong, that I'm actually the best person around, etc. I don't have to explain what disorder I ended up with as an adult as a result of all of that. :P
But anyway - the wound of constantly being ignored at best and insulted at worst is still there. You know how when you're in a group chat or a conversation with multiple people and no one ever pays attention to your comments, while paying attention to everyone else? Yeah, that shit hurts EVERYONE, but especially pwNPD. Even the smallest acknowledgment can be "narc supply."
You know how when you achieve something really cool and everyone ignores you - but the people who ignore you will be quick to praise OTHER people?
You know how when you post art/edits online and everyone ignores you - but the people who ignore you compliment someone else's post in the exact same thread?
You know how when you ask your friend to read your favorite book or listen to your favorite artist or whatever because of how much it means to you, and they never do it, but then they read/listen to everyone else's favorite thing at everyone else's recommendation, and how much it pisses you off? (Hurts even more if you have the SAME favorite book/artist and someone reads/listens to it at the other person's recommendation and not at yours.)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I could go on and on. That shit would bother anyone, us narcissists aren't alone in being hurt by that, but my G-d, it impacts pwNPD in such a specific way.
But let me flip it around to the positive!
A narcissist doesn't necessarily get their "supply" from someone telling them that they're the coolest person in the world and that they're a god. (Though if you do want to say that to us we probably won't complain!) Sometimes they get their "supply" from something as simple as someone acknowledging their achievements, and giving specific praise on what the achievement was. ("It's so cool that you won a prize in the music recital. The song you played sounds like it was really difficult and I loved your stage presence.")
Being told, "Wow, you did such a great job on your artwork, I love the colors!" goes a very very long way for a narc, especially when said narc is used to being IGNORED for their art.
Hearing, "it's so cool that you like that book, I'll have to read it and tell you my thoughts!" can help a narcissist's interests feel acknowledged.
You might be reading this and thinking, "well, isn't it just basic human interaction to compliment your friends or try out their interests"? And, well, maybe it is, but the whole point of NPD is that most of us grew up without receiving that type of attention, so now we're very very desperate for it - and very, very, VERY sensitive to when it doesn't happen, or is even perceived to not have happened. Something as small as being talked over in a group chat can set us off, but something as small as a simple, "hey, it's so cool that you did this, I love it." can win us over.
And to be completely fair, most of the time us being "ignored" isn't completely intentional. Like, I get it, yeah, sometimes timing just doesn't work out for person A to read my favorite book at my own rec, but by the time person B is in their life, person A can read it, and it's not anything personal. Sometimes the content I make just isn't someone's ~style~ and they support me, they really do, they just don't know what to say. Sometimes someone forgets to respond, or doesn't get a notification when I send them something I made or tell them about something I did. (There is less excuse for being ignored in face-to-face/offline convos though.) But because of the trauma of us constantly being ignored as kids/teens, the smallest little thing hurts and as a result we seek and crave attention EVERYWHERE.
So now, to give in to narc stereotypes of begging for attention: If you're a person without NPD and you genuinely want to help the narcissists you have in your life, the second best thing you can do for us is checking in to make sure we're not overlooked. Try to be sure you're not ignoring us, and if we do something cool, try to compliment it, even if it's something you don't fully "understand." Ask us about what we've been up to lately, what we're proud of about ourselves, and agree with us that what we've done is pretty cool. I mean, you'd do that for any friend, right? It's really not all outlandish for a narc to want that.
(If you're curious what the FIRST best thing you can do for a narcissist is, it's giving us a million dollars unlearning your anti-NPD ableism and calling people out who use narcissist as an insult as a synonym for abuser. Even in "offline" spaces, even when we're not around, even doctors/therapists. Even "narc" abuse survivors.)
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konigsblog · 6 months ago
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you can have boundaries but as someone who has been raped, why do you think it’s okay? like i understand if it’s a trauma response or wtv but talk that shit out w a therapist maybe
i love your writing and everything, i just skip through the rape or non con or incel stuff but i genuinely wonder if you think rape would be okay irl, im actually curious and not tryna be offensive.
i've said this again and again: rape in real life is absolutely disgusting, it affects a real person, and i'm completely against it. writing something doesn't determine your mortality.
there's a huge, huge difference between fiction and reality, you have to understand and comprehend that. when someone rapes another person, that traumatizes them forever. whereas, my work shouldn't re-traumatise you because i use warnings to prevent that exact thing from happening.
rape fantasies should be discussed, and there shouldn't be so much stigma and shame around it. it's in the name, it's a fantasy. no one is actually getting raped when i write a fan fic with rape involved. my work doesn't physically harm anybody, and it shouldn't mentally harm you either if you read the warnings.
and this is a healthy coping mechanism, a therapist would recommend this if it helps the person deal with their trauma.
here are three links that discuss rape fantasies ↓
https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/you-it/200806/rape-fantasy-or-pseudo-rape-fantasy
https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/all-about-sex/201001/womens-rape-fantasies-how-common-what-do-they-mean
https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/women-who-stray/201012/the-rape-fantasy
at some point, you have to do your own research. all these questions i have already answered in the past (multiple times) and it's not my job to educate you and provide you with these sources.
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thelunarsystemwrites · 6 months ago
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Why I recommend age regression as a way to cope.
If you're stressed the F out, feel like you missed out or lost your childhood, or have terrible coping mechanisms? Then this is the post for you. (Maybe.)
Also before we jump in—Just wanna say that I'm not a psychologist, I'm just sharing tips and advice from my own positive and negative experiences. And that age regression may not work for you after you've tried it, but I say give it a shot! Especially if your current ways of dealing with life aren't.... great.
With all that our of the way—Post beneath cut!
So here's some resources for a TLDR version! But I'll be explaining age-regression, it's benefits to me, and why I encourage others to try!
Remember it is ALWAYS sfw! (Which means agere isn't a kink, never has been and never will be!)
So age-regression, or it's shortened name Agere (Takes Age, and the Re from Regression and combines them!) Is a form of dissociation in which someone mentally reverts back to a younger age! This can be anywhere from a few years younger, such as a 17 year old regressing to a 15 year old. Or it can be many years younger—Example being a 17 year old regressing to a 4 year old!
During this state: they are mentally younger, either fully or partially depending on the person. And do think like said age. And often their behaviors correspond with their regressed age, assuming they aren't masking it!
Sometimes you are aware you're regressed, and other times you're not—Both are completely fine!
It's a wonderful way to relive your childhood in a safe environment, feel young and cared for again like a child, or express your inner child!
Okay, but why would I use that to cope?
Don't worry, I hear your questions!
The reason it's a good coping mechanism, for me atleast, is regressing allows you to process your emotions at your own pace. Though they might still be overwhelming, I find it much easier to let my big emotions calm down when I feel small, because it's like they slowly burn off rather than going boom!
If you're stressed a lot, it's a good way to temporarily remove yourself from your burdens! Like you don't have any worries other than 'should I use the pink or blue crayon?' Vibes! Pressure slowly bleeding off rather than having an outburst.
And, for fun! It can be fun to connect with your inner child, do the things you liked as a kid and reunited with that mindset! You don't need to have missed out on your childhood to regress, it can be completely for fun!
Now now, age regression isn't always all fun and games. Because you do think like whatever age you've regressed to, you might have temper tantrums or get cranky or confused if something triggers it.
That's okay.
Yeah, it can feel icky—But me personally, i much prefer these occasionally than letting my emotions boil over and having a breakdown when I'm not regressed!
I've lost and wasted a lot of my childhood. This is my way of healing and re-experiencing childhood joy. Please, don't ever forget that type of wonder, it's so magical and so nice and cozy.
It's a way to cope because it can be an outlet, a comfort, a way to regulate emotions, a way to escape, a way to just relax. And, while not everyone turns out liking it, that's okay! But it works for me, and so so many others. I've had atleast 6 or so friends start regressing and they're still doing it to this day!
And the best part is it's temporary, so if there's more mature things you enjoy? You don't have to give those up, okay? You can find time to regress and relax, and come back to your normal routine later!
It's benefits can be:
Destressing.
Processing lots of emotions at once.
Enjoyment.
Getting to do things you were denied as a child.
Able to let out emotions via tantrums or fits in a much less destructive headspace.
Reliving a simpler mindset.
Helping with sleeping. (I find it much easier to nap/go to bed if I'm regressed!)
Getting a fresh feeling after you're done regressing.
Stimulating if understimulated.
Can help if you're also overstimulated.
Healing inner child.
Coping with trauma/stress in a healthy way.
Help with doing chores. (It's way easier to make chores fun if you're regressed in my experience, but some hate doing chores while regressed and that's cool too!)
And it can be different for each person!
It is absolutely okay to have a different experience, struggle regressing at first or even always, or not do it often!
I recommend if you want to start regressing—Find something that makes your inner child happy, indulge in the best things you liked or would've liked as the age you wanna regress to, find ways to incorporate your current interests into it!
Also things that you like, or positive things can help too!
It's honestly my best coping mechanism, it isn't 'weird' or 'wrong' especially if it helps you. And I can guarantee it's far better than plenty of unhealthy coping mechanisms!
Sooo... yeah! If you want, I recommend looking more into it! There's a whole community for you here on Tumblr, and other sites!
And this post mainly only covers the positives, but it's what I wanted to focus on!
Byee!! (Pssstt BTW agere doesn't have to be all pastels and cute and stuff!! Do what makes you happy! Use whatever colours and vibes you want!)
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strawberrysnoopy · 8 months ago
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ACT ONE: The Photoshoot, Part Three of Four
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prologue, part one, part two. warnings: tobacco, smoking, alcohol use, briefest mention of using alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of infidelity (as always), ada slander at times (sorry), texting for a while, leon's a bit of a perv,
author's note: btw I left the husband without a name so there's no overlap on you and your husband having the same name and you live in new york due to the modeling thing. I also try my hardest to keep the reader ambiguous because I realize that skinny, quirky, white girls aren't the only ones that read this series: if there's anything you'd like to recommend or change in the writing to be more reader-friendly, drop in my inbox and let me know! :) thank you guys so much for all the reblogs and 100 FOLLOWERS AHHH!! thank you thank you thank you!
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The warmth of your fingers working against his cool and paled skin had him melting like a runny ice cream cone in your hands. His hand was on your hip, rubbing loving circles like he was trying to commit the warm feel of your flesh into his memory. This was the type of life he envisioned when he was younger: married to someone he loved deeply with every crevice of his being. He thought Ada was the person for him, but that was such a costly and emotionally unbalanced guess. "Thank you, honey." You nod in response, applying the rest of the stitching to his busted lip. His hands dare to move a little higher on your hips, squeezing your waist and getting some sick pleasure out of the way your breath stopped in embarrassment. The scene was perfect, just a good ol’ friend taking care of her busted up pal. Leon hated that he couldn’t find you earlier, sooner, before he could even lay eyes on Ada Wong. She had her charms, sure, but there was something about the soft lull of your presence, how gentle you were, how caring you could be with others that had his heart fluttering in his chest. He still can't believe out of all the places he could've met you, it was at a store while you were buying a bottle of wine for yourself and your husband. "Met" would have to be an overrated word in his dictionary. The truth was that Leon had first laid eyes upon you in a magazine. They had released their February shoot that show-cased entrepreneurial photographers on the rise, climbing their way to the top without a care in the world who they scratched on their way there. You happened to be the diamond in the rough, making everyone else's cliche photographs of "lust" or "revenge" or "innocence" themes seem drab. Your theme? Limerence. Beautiful, simmering, and chilling limerence. Your hair was pieced together lazily but curled neatly, wearing simple yet cryptic tops and little boy shorts that lovingly cradled your ass. The rookie photographer that snapped your photos had done a stellar job at making it seem like you were one of those once in a lifetime girls you met in college. He still had the magazine of course, stashed away in the depths of his closet: kept in pristine condition like a filthy little secret he loved to indulge in. "So..." He muses. He feels the little pause in your work, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "How long have you known? About your husband's infidelity?" You've always known. The first? A college girl in the first year of your "official" relationship Bubbly and vibrant and a fucking joy to be around. The kind of girl you see on ABC's 20/20 or some other type of true crime prime-time film. Your husband claimed it was a drunk hook-up. And the first time, you believed him. The second? A school teacher that looked, acted, and talked exactly like you. Maybe she was your long lost twin or some weird rip in the fabric of time and she happened to pop out. He claimed he was mad at you for the way you did laundry. You forgave him a second time, but you'd surely have a knife to his throat the third time.
"A while. It's just like some weird fact I live with, I guess. Like you have some chronic disease and it's something you deal with from time to time." He nodded, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to your palm. He knows you don't deserve that. Nobody deserves that. Yet, he always wondered why you stayed. Your husband was an asshole, although that shouldn't be a term that leaves his lips due to the fact he's supposedly your husband's best bud, but for the sake of doing the holy honor of defending you: he was a cheating dick that didn't deserve to be maritally bound to a woman such as yourself. "Wouldn't you get a divorce? I don't mean to be like...rude or anything but I would've thought that you're the type of woman to leave his ass once he cheats." And you were. Headstrong, confident, and self-assured—he's never seen an insecure model before, or maybe that's some weird stereotype he's made in his head unconsciously. "It's a tough situation." And that's all you have to say about your marriage. He nodded, understanding your reluctance to speak on the subject. He can't say he's any different from you either considering his marriage to Ada, the very reason he can't be with you. Especially so intimately. It’s hard. The safety of it all. Having someone next to you at all times despite the shitty relationship. He knew.
Now the bathroom is silent. You’re still doctoring up his wounds while he sits up on the marble counter-top. He really wants to say something until you step in for him.
“I can’t believe you fucked my husband up like that.” You say, pulling your hands away from his face to find some more antibiotic cream. He hates that he feels his head moving forward to get your hands back on him. Pathetic. He feels pathetic, especially considering he beat the dog shit out of your husband when you graciously invited him into your home.
“I’m sorry—“ He begins, you stop him once more.
“No. Don’t apologize. I was thanking you.” He nods again, finding the motion of moving his head back and forth too repetitive. “So, thank you.”
He boldly takes your hand in his own, squeezing it and kissing the palm—feeling like he’s turning into a crazy man when your fingertips brush against his lower eyelids and cheeks.
“You’re welcome.” He releases your hand from his own, feeling guilty for not saying more to you. He feels as if you deserve more than silence, and to be honest, with everything you've gone through this week, you definitely do. "I know I said it already but I'm sorry for saying that I wanted to—" He pauses, not wanting to be so crude with his wording but throwing caution to the wind as he had already fucked everything up so far. "Said that I wanted to fuck you, that's not fair to you nor your husband."
"It's okay if you do." His heart pulses in his chest at those words. He had expected you to ignore it, maybe slap him if you were really pissed. But you agreed? What the fuck, it's like he's living in a fucking alternate universe. "It's not a crime to find someone else attractive. The only thing wrong is if you act on it." That was true, but it never took from how much he dreamed about you. The times he's jerked himself off while thinking of your gorgeous body on his mind had grown to a disgusting amount. Hell, it's gotten to a point where he doesn't even fight it anymore and Ada being in the house used to stop him, but not anymore. He'll just go up to the bathroom and rub one out with your magazine in hand. "Then I guess I'm attracted to you." Your cheeks flush red at the admission, flaring a brighter color when his hand grips your hip once more. And tighter, too. Jesus Christ, the way this whole situation had been playing out like a steamy porno. First, your husband was gone in the hospital. Second, Leon was brought into your home. Alone. Third, he admitted he wants to fuck you. No, he has to resist. You were right. It's not wrong to be attracted to someone other than your spouse but you had him wanting to act. Wanting to drag you down to the marital bed you share with your husband and fuck you senseless. "So, do you want to stay the night tonight? Considering your car is broken down and everything." You ask, your tone beautiful and raspy like it always is.
Oh, God. He's gonna fuck you.
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tags:@heylesamis, @sweetserial, @iloveyousomuch1989, @galactict3a, @m1sery-busin3ss, @ssulfurr, @julia13123, @nic-stars, @stillhavingdaddyissues, @greywardensaywhat, @ressespearlz, @xqlenkdy, @g0rep1ty, @nomorekerkanymor,
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kkencess · 2 years ago
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AKAZA, feenin.
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although it might be obvious, there’s one unspoken rule in a relationship. never admit you find another man attractive around your short-tempered husband.
𖤐 info ─── oneshot written by yours truly… i got this idea out of nowhere, and had to write it all before the dialogue disappeared from my head, lol! it was like three in the morning, but i somehow finished this. as an eighteen year old who just turned eighteen, i recommend reading if you’re sixteen, and up! if you aren’t, don’t mention it please!
𖤐 warnings ─── lowercase intended, female! reader, human! akaza, akaza is your fiancé, mild age gap, explicit content, dirty talk, rough sex [punishment sex?], crying, a lil praising, the one time akaza doesn’t respect women, muahaha! just kidding.
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most people shamed others for taking on the role of the housewife, but at least for you; it was easy. in a large mansion like the one you lived in, it was only natural others would assume you had it hard. but in all honesty, you didn't. you didn't have any kids at the moment; so that alone was a bonus. cooking was a breeze since you enjoyed it so much, and cleaning wasn't bad since it hardly ever got untidy.
you lay soundlessly in bed, your eyes glued on the phone screen that rested in your hands. a housewife, and a senior in college. of course, all eyes were on you at all times. others often wondered how you scored a faithful husband at the age of twenty one; and honestly, you didn't have a clue yourself.
akaza wasn't in college, like you. he worked for a private organization; and was twenty-seven himself. you didn't have a problem with the miniature age gap; and slightly found it all the more attractive. don’t get you wrong or anything, men these days just weren't up to par. especially those around your age group, or younger. besides, you doubted you'd ever date someone younger than you.
your cheek is engulfed in your palm, black framed glasses falling from your face as you dive your head against the pillow. your glossy lips ruin your pillow, squinted eyes pulled close. you were all caught up on your assignments, surprisingly. you would graduate from college next month, before attending law school.
man.
the distant sound of keys jangling catches your attention, bringing you to raise your head from the pillow. you glance over towards the door, finding it still closed. whatever, your husband must’ve been home. that was great news, considering you were bored; and needed someone to bother. and a coping mechanism to separate your mind away from the stress of law school, and college overall.
you arise from the bed, sighing softly. just before you completely arised; the door opened, revealing a familiar black haired individual. settling down against the edge of the bed, you’re dressed in a cami tee, and shorts. with narrowed brows, you open your mouth to speak, head tilted. “damn, you were out longer than usual.”
akaza sighs, greeting you with a kiss against your forehead. “muzan requested a meeting.”
you roll your eyes at his typical response. “that man is extremely annoying. i’m sure his employees don’t get paid to take part in sudden meetings.”
the other shrugs, setting his suitcase down against the edge of the bed. the buttons of his suit top remained undone, slightly revealing the outline of his toned chest. of course, he worked out very often; but he looked insane. his body looked, and felt unrealistic. especially his muscles. and it was just perfect for you; deeming he often lounged around the house in nothing but sandals, and shorts. your husband looked fucking amazing.
“somewhat hot, but still annoying.” you finish, darting your eyes elsewhere.
akaza’s attention immediately snaps over to meet your own, blue eyes now settled on you. you’re completely silent, scanning the interior of the room with tapered eyes. your ridiculously pretty face is relaxed, though the last words to leave your mouth were completely out of line. you both knew there wasn’t any honesty behind any of what you just voiced, but the boldness of course; is what usually placed the cherry on the top.
“i’m sorry?” the earthy smell of man's cologne seeped from him dearly, infiltrating your nostrils quickly. the scent mashed well with his body wash. he smelled just as great as he looked. lusciously; you lick at your lips, bringing your eyes back over to meet your lover’s own irritation tainted ones.
“what are you saying sorry for?”
the man rolls his eyes, yet doesn’t settle for any more of your bullshit. maybe on a good day he would’ve fallen for it, but after such a long day at work, he figured it wasn’t necessarily worth the sacrifice. muttering something inaudible beneath his breath, he advances forward into another room; the bathroom.
you whine at the lack of attention, pressing your body up from the mattress to step on to the ground. you felt you had at least a bit of the right to be annoying. you hadn’t seen him in a little over twelve hours. those shifts were dangerous; especially to the wife of the man taking them. man, everytime you’d capture a glance at his boss, you’d send him a filthy glare. if there was anyone you truly hated in this world, you’d bet your ass it was fucking muzan, kibutsuji.
“well, that wasn’t fun.”
for what little of the day you had left, you spent your time preparing dinner. akaza hadn’t gotten out of the shower yet; but he always took long; so to you, it wasn’t anything out of character. you figured a breakfast styled dinner wouldn’t hurt. It was a fun choice as well, considering you were craving it these past few days. your husband was never too picky about dinner choices, so he should be fine with the option you settled for.
dinner was silent for the most part. you watched your lover, whilst spooning a mouth full of grits in between your lips.
“are you ignoring me?” you question, breaking the everlasting silence. you’re seated directly across from him, utensils aligned against the transparent glass table. you’re eyeing him shamelessly, cheek pressed against your palm. well, unfortunately for him; the silent treatment only worked in movies.
“it’s about the muzan comment, isn’t it?”
you hoist your legs up to meet akaza’s thigh, letting the anatomy settle hotly against his skin. you’re not completely facing his direction, but your body is angled to meet his. you’re still shoveling pieces of food into your mouth, chowing down on a sausage as you prepare your next bite. you adored how you looked around him, but never when you were eating. it’s not like you ate like a pig or anything, you were just comfortable enough to eat as you would alone.
“i don’t like being ignored, y’know.”
akaza would always answer you. and being who he was (your husband) of course, he knew you well. probably better than you did yourself. so of course, he was wary of the fact that you were a bitch for his attention. sometimes, he’d purposely pretend he couldn’t hear you just to stimulate some sort of reaction out of you. and every single time; it worked. miraculously, but it did.
“i’m aware, [name.]” his tone was stern; low and captivating. you have to press your legs close at the raw sound of it, an array of tingles pulsing through you like a shooting star. your legs dangle off of his own, your chair now pulled a bit closer to his own. the platform of your slippers pressed against the hem of his seating.
“you’re so pretty when you’re upset, babe.” though you were the one who spouted the compliment, your cheeks don’t of course fail to heat up. your tone is quite teasing as well, a playful smile grasping your lips.
“i'm not upset.” he clarifies, eyeing you momentarily. “you’d be a lot more attractive yourself if you stopped making jokes like that about my boss. it’s disrespectful.”
“huh, your boss?” you question, perking a brow. “what’s gonna happen if i don’t?” a smile slowly grasps your lips, eyes darting over to match a gorgeous blue pair.
you weren’t any idiot, of course. you knew he secretly enjoyed it when you talked back; because in a way, it riled him up even more. to fuck you into complete submission, that was. you could simply tell by the way his fingers grasped your ankle tonight would be worth its while.
your back hits the bed’s cushion quite roughly, though the hand grasped around your neck never detached itself from the stated anatomy. you’re pulled into a rough kiss, a soft groan emitted at the rather brutal force; though you were accustomed to it. the male kissed hotly against your lips, savoring every wince emitted, and the shudders performed. you’re pinned down against the cushion, either of your hands pulled against one another; as they’re pinned above your head; near the neatly stacked pillows nearby.
the spaghetti strap tee you wore was hauled up just a bit, revealing your pierced belly. hell, the lounge shorts you wore had ridden up to your mid thigh. a hand of his is free, to lap at the slick coating your thighs; your legs pulling apart to help give him a little more access to what should’ve been his most desirable target.
“you’re always so quiet when we finally go at it.” he started against your lips, where he kissed softly. a finger of his pressed against your clothed clit, earning a slight jolt from you.
you press your eyes shut as his fingers ride against your soaked parts; shutters emitted. he’s quick with his actions; the stated anatomy dipping past your soaked underwear and nearly into you; residing just near your entrance while he teased your clit with his available fingers.
you have to strain a gasp as he loses your lips; mouth now against your neck where he sucked, and bit. nonetheless he’s an expert. you were so fucking soaked and he had only kissed you. nothing else. maybe him being a man of his words played an odd part in it, but for now, you’d give him the benefit of the doubt.
“god, you’re soaking wet, baby. i’m gonna stuff you so fucking well.” cooed the older male, voice as silky as ever. his words alone were enough to increase the amount of pre-cum that currently seeped through your underwear, a shudder animated as you gasped into your palm, when he sunk a finger into you. not just one finger, but two. and his pace started unforgivingly.
he was already plunging his fingers into you with undeniable speed. you could feel the eagerness, your body jolting beneath his own. akaza stared you down mercilessly, lapping at his own lips with the soft pink flesh of his tongue. your fingers grasped desperately at his wrist as his digits pushed through, flush against your walls. you moan out in pleasure, the slight pain pushed quickly aside as you wriggled in his touch. “f—fuck!” you cursed, fingers caressing akaza’s tight muscles. they felt so fucking nice. he worked out often and it showed physically, thankfully.
“gonna come from just my fingers?” he questioned, shoving another one in without restraint. “shit, you are, aren’t you? you aren’t embarrassed?” your face was hot, flustered in mortification, as he confirmed. his words were rather teasing; although his voice remained silky. rather smooth, even. he worked his fingers like a damn god. he knew just what to do to keep you doused in pleasure, while simultaneously making sure it didn’t send you over the edge. it was clear he knew your body better than you did.
“t—to m-much!” you exasperated. it should’ve been criminal. the way your back arched from the bed as he worked his fingers delightfully. he chuckled coldly at your remark, head lowering; before he leveled himself out of your sight, and beneath your trembling thighs. he tore at your lace undergarments with ease, allowing them to fall against the bed’s soft cushion.
“is it?” he seethed, lapping at your pretty, now exposed pussy. your clit glistened with your own produce, spilling against the velvet colored sheets. akaza wasted no time, settling his tongue against the anatomy, circling it just perfectly. his fingers still plunged into you with brute force, his free hand clasped around your thigh harshly, where he gripped to make sure you didn’t escape his grasp.
“my god…” the only thing you could do was take in the pleasure, moaning as your hand pulled down to grasp at his hair. the grip he had on your thigh tightened, earning a wince of pain from you; though the overall pleasure you received from both his fingers, and mouth overthrew whatever pain you previously suffered. you were so fucking close, closer than ever. “akaza— shit. that feels amazing… don’t stop.”
you were positive he would let you cum. at least now. rapid blinks blinded you, your mouth pulled apart as lengthy moans made way. the knot in your stomach had only slightly undone itself; disappointment quickly washed over you when not one, but all of whatever pleasure you had been feeling before completely vanished.
“b-babe?” there wasn’t much time to react; your body quickly being pushed over. you were now laid flat against your stomach, body pressed into the cushion. your face was hot in embarrassment, mind scrambled. you didn’t know what to say. you could hear the male above you chuckle, his hands settled against torso; where his fingers grasped harshly at. you twitch in his caress, the warmth of his breath evident against your neck since he had resided so close to you.
it was quite thick, and heavy— only for what it was, that is. you guess you couldn’t be too mad, since things weren’t looking so bad for you. it was a shame you couldn’t see it, though. it looked pretty. and trust you, you weren’t at all exaggerating. a pretty pink tip, and gorgeous smooth skin following it. it had a perfect arch, one that could easily strike you in all of the right places. you got lightheaded thinking about it, swallowing hard as you await his actions.
“shit, m’gonna fuck you so hard… give you just what you wanted.” he says, either of his palms engulfing your ass. he spread you apart with ease, spatting out a thick wad of saliva against your entrance, that’d be his substitution for lube. you could only whine beneath him, as you mentally prepared yourself for the next few moments.
“you’re lucky i even gave you that much,” he spouts, cock pushing into your entrance. you have to bite into the sheets, limbs weakening as he pushes further, and further into you. with each push came deep breathy grunts, from akaza himself. he only stopped when his hips were locked against your ass, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist. you gasp out in pain, the lack of proper lube making it all the worse for you. not only that, did you even finger prep properly? he should’ve let you come, before.
“shit. you’re so tight, baby. so tight.” he started roughly, plunging in and out of you with an indescribable force. he was reckless, fucking into you with his own neediness. the tears that spiked your vision fell, staining the bed’s sheets. his grunts of pleasure only satisfies you, making you hot all over. he practically tore his way inside of you, yes— but of course, it always felt amazing soon after.
the pleasure gradually builds, moans spilling from your mouth as he delved even deeper into you, striking you in all the right spaces. there’s hardly any pain involved now; only strained moans and whimpers. you crumble beneath him, head hanging against the pillows— hurried, heavy pants occupying your eardrums. akaza couldn’t see your expression, and to be quite honest he was dying to— all he needed was a proper glance at your fucked out face.
so, he settles against the edge of the matress, only detaching himself from you for a second. in the next instant you're resting in his lap, his cock sinking into you without warning. this angle was even better than the last, though the part where he entered always hurt like a bitch. his free hand engulfed your chin, forcing it down so that your gaze matched your own. your eyes were hazy, eyelids hanging low— making it so that you could hardly even see. speckles of stars spiked your vision, vanishing once your eyes finally fell close.
“you’re a mess, sweetheart.” akaza says, tone low and sweet. saliva grazes your lips, hands weakly wrapping around akaza’s shoulders. you couldn’t say a thing— your body wouldn’t allow you to. no, your brain wouldn’t. all you could do was shut up and take whatever he had to offer, like how he knew you would. of course, akaza always got the last laugh. you started things off, but he’d finish them in an unbelievable way.
“shit, you’re making me feel so good. so good, baby.” he protests, a smile engulfing the lips of his pretty face as he takes either of your ankles in his hand, pulling them apart so that they are fully wrapped around his waist, ensuring that you took every inch of him. there wasn’t any running away in this position, and to be quite frank you weren’t upset with the lack of options.
“akaza…” you mutter, with what little strength you had. “m’gonna come…”
the male eyes the hardly evident bulge tracing your stomach, eyes soon tracing further up. he presses a kiss against the exposed skin of your chest, legs trembling as he nears his orgasm. his pace became desperate as he fucked rapidly into you, practically drilling you dry. your head is resting into his shoulder, hanging between the juncture of both his chin, and collarbone. your ass bounces against his cock, the wet sounds audible. dribbling past your lips was drool, that slid down akaza’s back, dipping into the curves of his muscles. you were far too weak to scratch at him, so for now all you could do was take it.
you wanted to speak up, in the least bit do something. it was hard hearing you anyways, when akaza moaned so desperately in your ear, whispering about how good you were; and how well you took him. he pressed a kiss between your chest, blue eyes tracing up your figure. his fingers grasped you roughly, in fact you were sure it would leave some kind of mark.
just another pump was enough to send him over the edge, specks of white shooting into you; not even a drop trickling down your thighs. it doesn’t take long for you to come after him, your mind going completely numb as you clang on desperately to his body. all you could hear were akaza’s strained breaths that seemed to never end. you didn’t know what to say, or do either. nonetheless, you couldn’t stay like this forever.
finally akaza catches himself, catching your chin in between his index finger, and thumb. there’s a slight upturn of his lips, pretty blue eyes eating at you disastrously.
“one more time.”
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bengiyo · 10 months ago
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Love for Love's Sake Ep 8 (Finale) Stray Thoughts
Last time, the game world began falling apart around Myungha as he refused to choose between his grandmother or Yeowoon dying. With only 15 days left, Myungha began to pull back from Yeowoon, even as he tried to bulk up his relationships with his friends. Myungha received an item to change any part of the story, but could not change himself to admit to Yeowoon directly that he loved him. Despite Yeowoon asking all the right questions directly, Myungha couldn’t say what needed to be said, and chose to break up. We left with Myungha falling into the abyss as the world unwound before him.
Did Myungha erase himself from Yeowoon’s memory? I’m glad his friendships are intact, but it seems like he’s experiencing echoes of Myungha.
Episode 8: Answers
Wait, why does the brand lady remember Tae Myungha?
Oh, this is upsetting. Only the brand lady and Yeowoon remember Myungha. Even his grandmother doesn’t remember.
He wrote “Please make Cha Yeowoon happy” and then he vanished. I get his panic now.
Wait, is Cha Yeowoon a PC now?
Wait, was the brand owner Myungha’s ex in the main world?
Oh no…. Tae Myungha went to see his mom before and she had started a new family and refused to see him.
I approve of the letterboxing to let us know we’re seeing the history from the physical world.
This is putting me in my Sea, Swallow Me and Other Stories by Craig Laurance Gidney feelings.
Wow. I have a lot of thoughts about this writer creating a story because he loved his friend he missed so much that he wanted to give him a second life in a game where you help him see that he is loved and that he can choose to live. “Write me a poem to make me happy.”
ARE THEY IN DIFFERENT REALITIES? WHAT THE HELL??
He’s going to find his favorite person!!! 😭
Oh, romance, never stop hitting me with lens flares to show that the love is bursting.
Yes, let’s continue those kissing lessons.
Whoa, he’s wearing pink now.
Okay, seeing them make out by the sea and then play in it with their friends after that reveal about Myungha just sent me over the edge.
Final Verdict: 9, Highly Recommended. This final episode went to some really dark places, but this is the kind of queer media that I secretly love the most. I’ve written about how grief is a big part of my experience before, and how much Eternal Yesterday helped me cope with feelings that had been in me for 15 years. I think there’s something beautiful in the melancholy of the writer who is grieving their friend in their work. The thing about the fact that everyone dies, is that those who loved us will remember us and they will miss us. A version of us continues to live on in them. When we lose someone tragically, there is a need to process those feelings, and I appreciate the desire of a writer to immortalize their friend in a story where they recognize and receive the love they wished for in life.
I love that there’s a component of death of the author here, where Myungha wants to know who he is and why he wrote things like this, because I wonder if the writer infused some of the writings Myungha gave in life since we recognized Myungha’s handwriting in the missions. He’s trying to give Myungha what he wrote that he wanted and what he wrote about love. I love that we don’t exactly what the creator’s relationship is with Myungha, but the gay in me calls to the gay in him and says that he loved his junior in Myungha the way Myungha maybe connected to in Yeowoon. I like to think that he wrote Cha Yeowoon based on how he saw Myungha, and a part of him wanted to see Myungha happy. Perhaps he felt he couldn’t give that to Myungha in life for various reasons.
I loved the game mechanics so much. I loved the side quests. I loved it because it didn’t work all the time. I know I link Shane Koyczan a lot when I’m being especially emo around here, but it’s like his poem Stop Signs where he’s desperate to connect with his crush and he’s trying everything he can think of to reach them. What it does force to recognize is what’s important. All the running around and trying to get all of these things is about taking care of the person he likes. Earning the money forced him to work at something without just receiving it from someone else. Getting Yeowoon friends made both of their lives better, and they found the other gays! I loved the debuff mechanic because it makes you pay attention to the world around them and approach situations with caution.
This show was beautiful. I haven’t seen an It Gets Better project that hit the right way for me in so long. I like that this show kinda snuck up on us with the darkness. There have been so many high profile celebrity deaths in Korea in the last few years, and there’s gotta be so many more of regular people that we don’t even know. I really love that this story is about loving lonely boys and asks the audience not to give up. I love the notion that loving someone else is a pathway to learning to love yourself. You can love for the sake of love itself. This show surprised the hell out of me, but this is going to be one of the shows I think sticks with me from this year.
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strawberryangelx08 · 9 days ago
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yesss this!!
these are the same ppl who are probably like
“all victims matter” or “all mental health matters”
until someone does a coping mechanism or a hobby that’s deemed to be evil or disgusting by some others on the internet
“but this doesn’t help you it makes you worse”
literally how do you know? like just because you seen people did a certain coping mechanism and didn’t work out for them or for you doesn’t mean it’s also not going to work out,for the person who does like fictional media as a gateway way to cope
i personally believe there’s way other things worse than ppl shipping or drawing pixels on a screen like for example most people physically sh themselves as coping mechanisms or sometimes harm others but pixels are more of a problem i guess 🤦🏾‍♀️
and also most antis are the same people who call people predators without looking up into the actual definition
as much i hate p3dos like any sane person it’s also a disorder??(correct me if I’m wrong) because no sane person normally wakes up one day and thinks about someone like that under the age of 18 so it has to be some sort of mental illness
like there’s so many minors in the proship community using it to cope or just have fun with it
telling a minor they’re going to end up as s3x offender over what the fictional dynamics or ships they like is disgusting and may seem disrespectful to proshippers,darkshippers,comshippers who may also be victims to p3dos and may get them panic attacks and believe the fiction they consume might make them harm someone in the fiction which isn’t true
if the person has no interested or intent of trying to hurt someone younger than them irl you literally can’t prove anything about them
oh and when you antis hear a therapist actual recommends fiction to cope suddenly most of you guys want to act like you are a psychiatrist and wants the therapist to get fired?
like do they want the therapist to say
“weirdo fiction is bad and you can’t do that!”
many therapists have ways of teaching their clients to cope if it’s not between you and them mind your business please.
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leikeliscomet · 4 months ago
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Flop and Bubble - I’m Not Stanning RTD2’s Racial Commentary
On Dot and Bubble, experiencing fandom backlash and what this means for the Black Brit (or lack thereof) in the writer’s room.
Part 1 - The Episode
If you’ve already seen my posts, I don’t like this episode. At all. I watched it on Friday night with everyone else not knowing what to expect and live-tweeted away. It wasn’t worth the late night stream. I rewatched it on Saturday and still felt disappointed. Apart from 50 minutes of cringe millennial/Gen Z parody, mid social media commentary, boring aliens and a whole intense, action-filled scene dedicated to Lindy trying to walk in a straight line, Dot and Bubble tried to give us a racism commentary too, which in all honestly felt like someone was taking the piss. Opening up Twitter and Tumblr to see this episode being called the best of the season and ‘the greatest’ episode of nuwho felt like a 73 Yards of my own. Most posts about how ‘groundbreaking’ and ‘important’ this story is make my eyes roll into the back of my head I’ll be honest with you. I don’t wanna copy and paste everything I’ve already said in my original thread (here’s the Tumblr version), but I’ll recap my main issues with it.
The predominantly white casting fails as a racism commentary in a show that’s already predominantly white. White fans who’ve grown up in white areas watching a predominantly white show have no reason to question why that show would be white too. It’s their default. Including that of the writer's room, as there were no Black writers for series 14. White fans who didn’t notice the white casting have no reason to. Why would they when the show has catered to them for most of its run? There is no fundamental difference between Dot and Bubble’s predominantly white cast and the all-white main cast of Series 6 or the episodes of RTD1 where Martha or Mickey were the only Black characters of the episode. But only one of these results in pearl-clutching. The self-flagellation from white fans late to notice felt very strange. Apart from the guilt of not noticing something they had no incentive to notice, nothing productive comes from this guilt. Being upset about having white privilege is an acknowledgement I guess, but what material actions are coming from this? RTD and co. wanted a message about predominantly white representation then didn’t have any Black writers in the room to create that message. There’s no point in gasping at how white the table is and then not offering Black people a place to sit. Dot and Bubble wasn’t a new story either, as it was originally planned for the Moffat era instead. What would the ending look like for the 11th Doctor? No bowties allowed? To say this episode sprinkled in racism last minute doesn’t seem that far-fetched considering it wasn’t originally a part of the script in the first place. How can I credit an ‘intentional’ build-up of microaggressions to the big racism reveal in the last 10 minutes when they were never originally there to begin with? How can this be a good commentary on the Black experience when Black writers were not only missing but the Black main character himself?
RTD Who’s campness is already something I disliked from RTD1, but for the big white supremacy episode out of all to choose from was just in poor taste to me. I already hated the Love and Monsters style episodes of the OG RTD run, but for an episode that represents systemic racism of all things felt like a slap in the face. Not to say racism can’t exist in comedy because it can. Many Black writers including in the shows I recommend later in the thread do this, but they use humour as the Black characters’ coping mechanism for racism. The actions of the racist characters aren’t minimised because of this. Dot and Bubble doesn’t have the range for this that Doctor Who fans think it does. Lindy’s incompetence is a way for Fifteen, Ruby and the audience to look down on her in the sense she’s clapped basically and her racism comes from the fact she’s unintelligent. But in the real world, white supremacy is a lot smarter. White supremacist rhetoric is hidden and cloaked intentionally so it can’t be noticed and this is used as a way of recruiting white people to join in and maintain it. White supremacy is a system constructed for the purpose of oppressing Black people and other people of colour. It’s a bit more than a few silly billies trust me. Even if we do entertain the idea of ‘accidental racism’ the only reason it happens is because of this white supremacist conditioning which tells white people it’s okay. It’s not your fault for being born in this system but it’s absolutely your fault for continuing to maintain it when you have the choice not to. The only sign of intellect Lindy has comes from when she betrays Ricky and gets him killed. This was what Lindy could’ve been. A white woman who weaponises her incompetence and innocence to her own advantage because she knows how it will benefit her in a white supremacist state. An episode with a darker tone exploring racism in a technological dystopia. This is what fans think the episode did but frankly, it didn’t, but they wanted it to because they idolise RTD to the point of creating his writing intentions for him. Lindy didn’t weaponise being incompetent she is incompetent. Her incompetence is attached to her social media obsession and youth and without these things she lacks even more intelligence than she already does. The episode promotes the idea that racism is the product of low intelligence and overreliance on technology. She is a walking talking caricature for the fans to project onto than a real person capable of actual harm. Apart from the ableist connotations that the lower the intelligence the lesser the person morally, it’s an overly basic and mediocre representation of racism. I won’t speak for the Black people who do relate to the representation of Lindy as a racist, but for me personally, the Lindys of my life were never silly in their racism. They knew what they were doing. They knew no matter how harmless their actions were (to them not me that is), they would get away with it. And they did. I didn’t have time to laugh about how silly the racists I’d met were. I was too busy trying to survive. It’s hard to giggle about being smarter than a racist when they hold the power to dehumanise you completely. What use is an intellectual high horse then?
Speaking of projecting onto characters, I don’t care about Ricky September. His main role was to get Lindy to walk in a straight line and find the escape. He provided as much interest to the episode as water adds flavour to white bread. Ricky is raised in the exact same Finetime conditioning as Lindy but he’s an antiracist icon because he likes walking and books I guess. White fans will be disappointed to know that racists can read and exist outside too. He becomes the ideal white man, a white saviour we’re supposed to distance from the rest of Finetime. The episode again reaffirms that racism is about moral character and not a system. The Ricky Midtembers of my life still benefit from racism even if they are just are just ‘nice’ white guys. Ironically, Ncuti Gatwa’s interview about white mediocrity becomes relevant again. Ricky is put on a pedestal for just existing, expecting applause from the audience. My hands are staying still.
What makes the episode’s politic even more flimsy is how it’s missing from the rest of the season. In The Devil’s Chord, Fifteen opened the TARDIS doors in 1963 with an afro and big smile on his face and I was confused. The arrival of the Windrush generation, the Bristol Bus Boycott and the Notting Hill race riots had all taken place by the time Fifteen and Ruby landed. Would this play any key role in this historical British episode featuring a Black man as the Doctor for the first time? Nah! Only a week after D&B he and Ruby were kicking it with British aristocrats in Rogue, a group of people well-known for respecting Black people for sure! The show’s avoidance of addressing Black British experiences almost feels intentional at this point. Black British history is rarely if not never taught in the British education system, let alone the rest of the world. From previous discourses on Rosa, Thin Ice and Human Nature, ignorance about our history is so prominent in the Doctor Who fandom. White British fans can’t accept the idea of racism being British, not exclusively American, on the same level as the US or even worse. And the show passes up the opportunity yet again to debunk this. So far the show’s closest attempts were Human Nature/Family of Blood and Thin Ice, but even then these episodes had limits. We had Mary Seacole in War in the Sontarans but as the title suggests, the Sontarans were the focus of the episode, not her. Whilst some white fans think the futuristic focus is a smart move, it just highlights the lack of depth a Black perspective can provide. When was the racism of Britain’s past actually addressed? How on earth can you claim learning about Britain’s racist past is limited when you don’t even know about it? How can you address race in the future when you can’t even address it today? Racism can only exist in a futuristic world, far away from Earth in a fictional blue-blooded race of the white bourgeoisie because we can’t have this sci-fi-attempting-fantasy show getting too real. Dot and Bubble’s racism needs to exist in its own isolated white echo chamber so that the racism of the Doctor Who fandom’s one can stay intact.
Dot and Bubble is a failure because it reinforces the bias white fans already have. That as long as they aren’t a specific flavour of white person (rich, Christian, cisgender, heterosexual, allosexual, able-bodied, neurotypical and perisex) they can’t be capable of anti Black racism. The episode comforts them in knowing what they already want to be true and need to be true. They don’t have to question or self-reflect their own antiblackness because the episode doesn’t give them any reason to. Why should they? They’re a Ricky not a Lindy, right? The white fans ‘saddened’ by Lindy’s low assumptions about Black men will continue in their hatred of Ryan Sinclair, Danny Pink and Mickey Smith. The white fans disgusted by Lindy’s disgust will keep going on about how ‘off’ they feel about Martha Jones but ‘don’t know why’. The white fans that ‘hate’ Lindy’s hatred of Ruby and Fifteen’s close proximity will keep gagging at the thought of the Doctor having any romantic connection to Martha Jones because she ‘deserved better than that’. The white fans ‘heartbroken’ for the ‘first’ Black doctor will keep erasing the Fugitive Doctor. The white fans that stan the ‘anti-racist’ slugs today will hate the Black people that fight against racism tomorrow. The white fans praising this episode for being ‘groundbreaking’ and ‘inspirational’ and ‘important’ will be racist to Black fans that dare to say that maybe it was a bit shit. And that is exactly what happened.
The fandom’s praise of Fifteen’s compassion, kindness and humanity (of a Time Lord that is)  hinges on him being a ‘good’ Black man for the racists that hate him to the core. If he hadn’t begged and screamed to save Lindy, that praise would’ve been revoked instantly. Fans uncomfortable at his anger towards the Chuldur and the killing of the Goblin King confirm this. Despite the long morally grey history of the Doctor, Fifteen’s darkness is uniquely ‘out of character’ because thanks to bigeneration this isn’t supposed to happen anymore (allegedly). Deep down, this is what the white audience wants. There can never be an alternative to Dot and Bubble’s ending. It’s easier to imagine racism as an inevitable part of the natural order we must experience for the sake of storytelling, the only form of conflict that Black characters and people can ever have than that we could ever, just maybe, say ‘no’ to the white standards put before us. We must beg. We must be nice. We must be compassionate. Even when history and current events have shown us time and time again white supremacy can’t be killed with kindness. Why take the boot off your neck when you can find out how strong and brave you are for handling it instead? Either that or just pretend it doesn’t exist. White incarnations of the Doctor on the other hand have and will continue to be the radical icons of the show because unlike Fifteen, white characters will always be given more agency to explore their actions and behaviours. Punch racists! Free the Ood! Stan the anti-racist slugs and eat the rich! Slay!
When Black people stop chasing after the boat, we don’t get this same radical praise. We pay a price. And the response to Dot and Bubble’s criticism would ironically prove this.
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Part 2 ->
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dr-spectre · 3 months ago
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heyo so im curious cus idk where it says this but where in splatoon does it say callie was like mentally unwell cus i could never find smth like that and i hope im not being a bother im just genuinely curious
staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay fresshhhhhhh
Hey there! Don't worry you ain't a bother, I welcome these kinds of questions.
So while we don't have a definitive concrete answer, what we can do is piece together information from the Sunken Scrolls, relationship chart and stuff from the games themselves to prove that Callie was for sure going through a rocky period mentally in Splatoon 2.
Sunken Scrolls 21 and 22 paint a pretty clear picture that Callie is not handling her newly increased level of fame from the end of Splatoon 1.
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I dont need to tell you that overthinking is a clear tell that someone is not doing the best mentally. Plus the sad squid drawn by Callie as well.
Now let's quickly go over the relationship chart as it gives us another clear tell Callie ain't doing so hot.
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Callie states herself that she's too busy and lonely and that she doesn't even want to spend time with Marie. Marie ponders if she's doing okay and she doesn't seem like her regular self. Which leads into well... What happens in Splatoon 2.
Now let's go over the prequel web series for Splatoon 2, Squid Sisters Stories as it shows us more insight into Callie's busy schedule and how it affected her life.
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It's evident from the prequel web series that Callie's acting gig is leaving her feeling tired and lonely, hell getting a break from it surprises her which is kinda fucking crazy huh? Getting shocked that you'll finally get a break from your work? That's just... really sad.
Even after all is said and done in Splatoon 2, Callie is still suffering from her job and it still affects her.
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She would rather put the shades back on, go under hypnosis and be in a daydream/flow like state than going back to her acting gig. Even though she says her reasoning is that "they look good on her." In other languages she says that she enjoys wearing them and I HIGHLY recommend you taking a look at Bomb Rush Blush (mission) page on Inkipedia to see for yourself. Callie acts possessive and needy over the shades in other languages, like it's a bad coping mechanism for her, and Marie's dialogue too in the rematches in other languages as well is very fascinating, well at least to me.
The final thing I wanna touch on is this infamous dialogue exchange in Splatoon 3 ROTM.
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Shiver asks the Squid Sisters what is wrong with them and Callie responds with a flat out-
"PLENTY! :D"
I mean... This is straight from the horse's mouth, or in this case... from the... squid's mouth.... I'm sorry...
Anyways, I hoped that answered your question!
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anika-ann · 10 months ago
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Back and Forth - part 3.2
Part 3 - Bounce Back - 2/2
Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 14000
Chapter summary:  In which you have to survive the charity auction and it's not easy... for several reasons.
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Series masterlist
Warnings: overthinking, self-doubt and issues with self-image, A+ parenting and its consequences, mentions of (in)human experimentation, alcohol (briefly as a coping mechanism), SPOILER armed assault, language and charming Steve, because he is most definitely a warning
A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance
A/N2: Second 'half' of the 3rd chapter. As you might have noticed, this is a long one. But with hints of fluff. So…yay? 💕 If you wish/need to split the reading, I recommend to end a reading session at the second in-text divider 😊
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Daisy Johnson, despite being the legendary Quake, did in fact have a moment – which was enough of a shock to stop your headache from getting worse, even if your hands seemed to get a little clammy as your phone lit up with her response.
You would have done just fine without anyone’s input, you considered yourself competent enough to choose an evening gown, thank you very much. But after the day you had had so far – you could hardly believe it wasn’t even noon yet – there was a small traitorous voice of hope in the back of your head. Despite the heavy feeling in your stomach weighing you down, a dull reminder of being alone in this world, it urged you to reach out to the one group of people that once made you believe that you could share more with someone than workload or more than lust that turned into ashes and smoke once the fire had been lit up too strong. Daisy had been in the centre of it – she and maybe Coulson.
It was a dangerous game you played, indulging in the one thing you knew would come back to slap you in the face; entertaining the idea that there was someone who genuinely cared for you regardless of your abilities was setting you up for disappointment. But there was something about Daisy, so honest and sincere, that had wormed its way through the walls you had sworn to keep up for support, several inches thick and vibranium-strong. And that didn’t change, even as you had been given, not for the first time, the evidence of how volatile a faith in friendship can turn just short of two hours ago.
Knowing that Daisy didn’t turn her back to people, not even to her father after all he had done wrong, knowing she chose to see the good in people and to put her heart into nurturing it in them despite the risk of getting hurt in more ways than one, left you defenceless against her powers that had nothing to do with her genetic code. She was, even if distantly, the closest thing to a sister to you, older, due to her experience with Inhuman powers and in Coulson’s team, and younger, due to her pure heart and excitement about new things; once she had managed her powers which she had got about a half a year before you did, she became your guide and confidant; though you hadn’t dared to taint her with the knowledge of your pain.
While you had started search for the dress without her, she texted you barely a half an hour in; fresh out of a meeting, apologizing she’d only have twenty minutes before they’d be in the drop-zone for their current mission. Twenty minutes. And yet, she had made the time for you. Somewhere, thousands of feet in the air, in between preparing her mission gear, she had decided to sneak in a few minutes for you.
The knowledge alone eased the pressure in your stomach and gave way to a wholly different feeling, equally dizzying. She cared. Yes, you could argue that since she had been tasked to lead the division of Inhuman agents of SHIELD, it was her duty to respond – and at times, you reminded yourself of that, that you really weren’t special – but the fact was that she was. And she truly did care. You hadn’t been wrong to call her a friend yesterday; and Daisy-the-teenager couldn’t have had picked a better role-model in life. For most part anyway.
It didn’t matter in the slightest that Daisy Johnson had barely squeezed you into her schedule; it still carried meaning. And it would be enough, because she could be very efficient, sorting through the dresses you had considered so far as easily as if she had been slicing through the security system of the Pentagon – for a person with her hacking experience anyway.
A set of easy questions you yourself had been asking was her effective tactics.
Mission or fun? she had asked first, no doubt already knowing the answer as she went through the early picks. There was a reason why no dress had bare back, while all of them had necklines designed high enough to hide at least a strapless bra.
Me: They call it a mission to have fun, but I’ll be damned if I go without being ready other kind of mission.
DJ: Fair
DJ: Charming or sexy?
Your lips twitched in a small smile, your mind conjuring the image of Daisy’s face when she was typing the question. She was one of very few people – probably the only one – who could make you feel the teenage-like excitement about challenging authority. There was always a reason to the madness of doing so, but there was something about her attitude that always whispered of poking the bear for the sake of fun only.
Charming, you replied, almost regretfully. As much fun as it would be to see brains of some of those pretentious jerks you were about to meet short-circuit just because they were seeing an extra silver of flesh on a young woman – a thing that would make for as much of an icky feeling as hilarity – your mission was to represent, not cause havoc or seduce.
Blah. Colour-coordinating with anyone? she asked then and you chuckled at her poorly hidden attempt to fish for gossip – and at the idea of actually trying to do what she was suggesting. No. You were not going to go and ask Rogers what colour he was about to wear. Less so since chances were high that he was about opt for a traditional black tuxedo suit with a white shirt.
Me: Nope.
DJ: Come on! At least tell me who you’re going with?!!
DJ: You know this is a much of a secure channel as it gets
DJ: And you said it wasn’t really a mission, so it can’t be classified
DJ: …and I can’t find it within the system.
I’ll tell you if we survive it, you replied simply, even as laughter already bubbled in your chest, cheeks beginning to hurt from disuse and the sudden exercise as to stop you from grinning.
You should have known that she’d hack the system and go straight for the mission database unless you told her the details. Tony, bless him, threw a tantrum whenever she did that – which wasn’t too often, but it had happened before. On days when you allowed yourself to ponder, you wondered why he never told anyone – as far as you knew, that was, because no one came down on you, raining holy fire of wrath, despite it being obvious you were the cause of Daisy’s hacks – and why he tolerated it. Some days, you thought he was amused by it and felt bad for you, seeing you missed your former team, granting you connection with Daisy even if the way she went about it drove him absolutely nuts. Other days, you were sure he simply enjoyed a challenge and this was as good one of those as any – and he’d be caught dead before he’d admit in front of anyone that someone was able to crack into his system. Most days, you were content not to look given horse in the mouth.
Like clockwork, FRIDAY’s mechanical voice interrupted your thoughts:
“Agent Spectre, Mr. Stark would like to know if, I quote, you know anything about some punk kid sneaking into the mission logs again, maybe Little Miss Richter Scale, end of quote,” she stated, causing a snort of laughter actually escape you at Tony’s new and dead-on nickname. You’d have to tell Daisy that later – she’d have a good laugh at that
Me: You’re getting better and better.
Me: He’s onto you now though.
DJ: He should, he’s slacking, took him forever to notice
Sometimes, you wondered what would happen if Tony Stark and Daisy Johnson found themselves in one room and she’d tell him that to his face; but that was a thought to entertain another day.
“Thanks, FRIDAY. Tell Mr. Stark to relax. We’re safe, it is just Daisy.”
“Very well. Apologies for interrupting your free time, Agent Spectre. However, I was also tasked to inform you that Sergeant Wilson prepared enough lunch for an army and extended the invitation to join him to everyone on the team. Even to those who are currently on a mission out of state, which I find odd and, frankly, despicable.”
Even though the corner of your lips twitched at FRIDAY’s comment, your heart skipped a startled beat, a fist of cold feeling squeezing your stomach. The invitation was a nice gesture, even if not meant for you. You could read between the lines: the family the Avengers team had built themselves into, even if the second strangest you had ever seen, did not involve you. You were barely a part of the team, a temporary loan, so to speak, even as you had signed a contract. Extending the invitation to the team meant extending it to friends, to that very family. As kind and welcoming as Sam seemed, you certainly did not belong to that category.
The vibration of your phone startled you; the message as amusing as bittersweet.
DJ: Fine, keep your secrets, Ms Avenger
Right. Ms. Avenger. Case on point. You might be one, technically, on paper, but in spirit… hardly. At best, you were determined to try and prove that the way you controlled your abilities could be at least Avengers-adjacent. The harsh truth however, was that if anyone from your old team would have had it in them to become a true Avenger, it was Daisy herself. Alas, she was too busy running and flying the world with another team, protecting, teaching, and recruiting Inhumans... and saving the world in the process.
DJ: Crap gotta run
DJ: Number four is the one I think
Whoever you’re going with is gonna lose their shit when they see you, she added, once again making you snort, this time without humour.
Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. If chances of becoming a friend to an Avenger were astronomical, chances that Steve Rogers would be impressed by you dressing up to the nines were outside of all the realms known to Thor himself. But it was a nice sentiment, you supposed; the flicker of affection towards the optimist in Daisy was a testimony to that.
Me: Thank you for the help. Stay safe out there.
DJ: You too
DJ: But from what I saw about yesterday, you got it
DJ: …Ms Avenger
Shaking your head, this time unable to stop the smile taking over your lips, you set the phone down and ordered the dress to be delivered express, and moved onto shoes and a handbag; you ignored the growling of your hungry stomach and distantly couldn’t but wonder if maybe there’d be some leftovers of Sam’s pasta to have for lunch later.
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Tony was not exaggerating when he was talking about the charity auction being a mission. A mission required preparation; having documents land in your inbox along with an alert of high-priority intel relevant to your mission lightning up your StarkWatch yesterday evening, you had never been more grateful for being obliged to read up on something.
As you were putting the last touches to your make-up in the quinjet bathroom, you sent another mental thank you to Tony, because the extensive files on all expected guests, besides having potential to be useful to you during the event, gave you the perfect excuse as to why leave last preparations to the flight.
Naturally, the intel itself was a message with a bitter aftertaste, because it highlighted your role and tasks. Represent. Make small-talk. Show interest. Compliment a healthy amount; meaning bootlick a bit, if necessary. You knew the dance and it had always made your head spin in the worst way. To show enough admiration and knowledge about the world’s finest to look professional and a bit of a fan, but not as a stalker, even as there were people among the attendees tonight who would have probably appreciated a stalker-level interest and considered it a compliment.
But despite the slight nausea hitting you when leafing through the files, you had appreciated the out Tony had given you, whether it was intentional or not; because with an excuse of mountains of intel to try to learn by heart, you didn’t have to sit opposite to Steve in the quinjet in awkward silence. Or worse, trying to make small talk with him, just as awkward. Or, in the worst-case scenario – which would be in the direct conflict with one of the mission’s laughable objectives, specifically trying not to kill each other – fight with him.
And you probably would have done exactly that because there was no way Captain America himself had been wrestled into this the same way you had. They might have had to twist his arm to make him go with you, but not to go. He had been given a choice and chose to attend, despite the concerns you had voiced. And you probably hadn’t been the only one, which meant Steve had to be hyperaware of the potential security issue and he deliberately ignored it. Of course. Why wouldn’t he? He was Mr. Captain America and nothing could ever happen to him; be it because he thought there was no danger and you were allegedly making it bigger deal than necessary or – which drove you all high up the wall and made you want to punch him into his damn perfect teeth or at least punch his stupidly firm pec – the threat was nothing he couldn’t handle.
Goddamn him.
You crumbled the fabric of your dress between your fingers in a firm grip as you breathed through the rush of pure indignation with him being a brave stubborn dismissive dumbass and breathed in slowly; you held your breath for a few seconds, and only then released it along with the grip on your dress. You blinked at yourself in the mirror and repeated the action, arranging your face into a neutral expression at least.
Tony might have as well come up with the idea to send the intel solely to prevent you from attempting to strangle Steven Grant Rogers before you even landed, so it would be polite to honour his efforts.
When you finally exited the bathroom and entered the main space, you found Steve in one of the seats with a tablet in his hand, the screen dimly illuminating his face. He looked up as you approached, rising to his feet almost as if on instinct, his lips slightly parted for a brief moment. His gaze glided over the dress from where it brushed your ankles, over the line of the skirt, the slit reaching mid-thigh opening and closing as you walked, revealing a silver of your leg tastefully and covering you again, then over the waist, V-shaped neckline ending mid-sternum, short sleeves with delicate frills. For a moment, the intensity of his gaze surprised you; but then you realized that he was committing the dress to memory to find you easily in the crowd in case any Avengers-related business came up.
Then, an obtrusively gentle thought nudged at your mind; he was an amateur artist. You had got a glimpse of him several times, a sketchbook and a pencil in his fingers, look distant or extremely focused on the paper in front of him. He could appreciate beauty – and the dress you chose was without doubt an embodiment of it. The glimmer of it was subtle and the sparkles sparce; in the rich dark blue blending into a purple just as dark, it resembled the sky just after dusk, with the first stars coming out. Whether he had a sense for fashion or not wouldn’t matter – the dress was, at least in your eyes, gorgeous. Not flashy, not too shiny to attract too much attention, but with an idea making up for the otherwise simple design.
When Steve met your eyes, the light of the quinjet made it appear as if there was a tinge of pink in his cheeks. And there actually might be, since his eyes lingered on the dress for a moment too long; which wouldn’t be a crime if you weren’t already wearing them, making it seem like he was staring.
“You look beautiful,” he said, the soft tone making it sound almost as if it escaped him unwittingly.
It was the most ordinary of compliments and yet, it surprised you that he had even paid it. Perhaps it shouldn’t have, as he was a product of his time – a time in which if men didn’t compliment a woman’s appearance, they were probably called louts. And yet. Even with that knowledge, something akin to warmth fluttered in your chest, a brief smile passing over your lips, the silent ‘thank you’ the least courtesy you could give in return.
If he had tried to commit your dress to memory, you’d allow yourself the same luxury. A quality black tuxedo with a faint navy-blue glint, pristine white shirt, a black bow-tie. His outfit would be but a drop in the sea, nothing that would stand out among those of other men; but you had the advantage of him being easily found in the crowd thanks to his physique alone. The broadness and strength he radiated could carry the weight of the world – and it felt like it did – narrowing beautifully into the trim waist in a ratio not even a loose jacket could hope to hide, let alone such well-fitting one which seemed to accentuate it a little more than was strictly necessary. With him towering over about ninety-five percent of people and having shoulders wider than about ninety-nine percent of the usual present company, he was truly hard to miss.
Unfortunately, it also made him an easy target who was truly hard to miss indeed.
And now you were staring and he was no doubt aware – it was impossible not to, less so with how much attention he paid to things. So you stood there in silence, awkward one, precisely the one you had wanted to avoid and yet managed to reach it in thirty seconds flat – but at least neither of you were yelling. Yet.
As glad as you were to see that Steve Rogers had clearly decided to leave whatever disagreements you had ever had back at the Tower for the sake of this mission, trying his best to be the exact opposite of antagonistic, you were not going to tell him he looked extremely good to make things even more awkward. You wouldn’t even think it, as right as the assessment was. It would be inappropriate, even as he had complimented you first.  You needed to be professional. There was a task at hand.
Right. The mission.
Steve was still watching you, something akin to curiosity in his gaze.
You cleared your throat, nodding towards the tablet in his hand.
“You were going through the files on the guests?”
Steve blinked, seemingly snapped from his thoughts.
“Yes. Have you?” he asked as he laid the tablet on the seat, straightening to his full height again; it was ridiculous how tall he seemed in the low-ceiling cabin of this type of quinjets. There was a faint smile on his lips, no tension in his jaw as he watched you; he already knew the answer and he wasn’t trying to provoke you.
Small talk it was.
“Yes, Captain,” you replied dutifully. You would swear a little twinkle of humour appeared in his eye – but it was probably just the lights reflecting in his cerulean blues. “Yesterday and today. Should be more than enough to represent properly.”
Alright, it must have been humour, because the corner of his lips twitched now at the lightest trace of defiance in your voice. Then he smiled fully, the spark burning brighter, your stomach somersaulting a bit.
Who were you kidding you had no idea; he looked more than just extremely good and handsome. In a different kind of suit than you were used to, bright eyes with their blue accentuated by the colour of his tuxedo, with uncharacteristically relaxed features and even a smile aimed at you, the beauty of him seemed so surreal you might have as well entered another dimension. Which, given your experience with Coulson’s team, was not unplausible. And yet, your heart fluttering had nothing to with fear as he went to sidestep you.
What was wrong with you today?
“Well… good. I’m sure you’ll have the two remaining objectives handled as well,” he said kindly.
You blinked, neurons firing in all directions, heart leaping to your throat. Surely, he didn’t just—the two remaining objectives. That wasn’t--- that didn’t mean anything. He probably didn’t receive the same documents, his mission package different from yours as he was one of the original Avengers, the strategist.
And yet, a worm of curiosity had already chewed its way through to your brain, an itch you needed to scratch otherwise you’d go crazy. Certainly, he couldn’t have implied-
He stepped out towards the bathroom, only to be stopped in his tracks by your impulsive words.
“Can I borrow your tablet for one more moment?” you blurted out, clearly taking him by surprise; but not unpleasantly. “I just… I just want to check on some of the guests again.”
“Sure.”
With the same faint smile adorning his absurdly handsome face, he took a few steps back to reach for the tablet, unlocking it for you and opening the file with individual documents for you to browse before taking his leave.
You weren’t sure why you needed to check – if you were a sucker for pain, needing to know your assumption he had only received three objectives was correct – but you opened the mission overview anyway.
A lump grew in your throat as you skimmed through the document, your stomach suddenly unbearably warm.
He didn’t mean it. He forgot there were four not three objectives, a sharp voice in your head argued, instantly opposed by another, even if less insistent, reminding you that Captain Rogers was believed to have eidetic memory and you had seen his impressive memory indeed in action before.
It didn’t matter. You were making a big deal out of nothing; and ocne you came back from this excuse of a mission, you needed to have your heart checked, because the irregularities in rhythm and the palpitations upon simply reading had to signal an underlying health issue.
But it was right there, in his device, in one of the documents he had just been reading through. The overview.
Location.
Time.
Two names.
Four objectives.
Four objectives which were no doubt written down by Tony, given the choice of words and their existence to begin with, because no one else would have treated an official document this way.
Make Avengers look good; Look good; Have fun (includes using Stark/Avengers card in the auction); Try not to kill each other.
You felt your cheeks heat up even though there was not a single reason to feel that way. You were a grown woman. You had been complimented countless times before, in much more flattering ways, though less playful ones. Steve was just being… polite. And a little teasing, trying to put you at ease, probably thinking you couldn’t handle yourself, having been informed about your… reluctance to attend the auction. His niceness was in overdrive since he had been literally given orders not to treat you as if he wanted to kill you. He didn’t mean it and even if he did, you had no business reacting this way.
But still. It seemed that Steve Rogers decided that for the sake of the mission, he would more than just leave your differences of opinions behind for the night; he decided to truly work hard on the one single objective that did not come easily to him. There was no other reason for that, but despite your better judgement, it brought a ghost of a smile to your face, one that felt a little stupid.
As you heard him open the door, you were quick to close the document and tap on a random one concerning the guests, just in case Steve would want to check. You pretended that you were too immersed in reading to address him as he walked to you, but there was no need.
The gentle swing of the quinjet slowing down made you forget about whatever he had been trying to imply alarmingly fast.
You were almost there; in the lion’s den. It was time to pull yourself together, be the picture perfect this mission required even if you were not. Just because your idea of a useful mission was different, you wouldn’t treat this one with any less focus or professionalism; even if you’d rather find yourself tied-up and gagged an abandoned warehouse in a middle of nowhere, with no back-up in sight, than kept a fake smile plastered to your face for hours.
Avenger or not, your task was to represent. And so you would, conveniently with the man who represented the goals and values of the team better than anyone else ever could. You’d do your best to support him in that, and you’d do so while fulfilling all the objectives of the mission indeed, even if you doubted that you’d be any better than an accessory the size of Steve’s cufflink. You doubted that Steve Rogers would need the slightest support in charming rich people and the staff alike.
Just for that, you mentally added a fifth objective, an objective anyone drawing up the document should have added themselves. For Steve, it would be not to be a dumbass and not to get himself hurt, hit by anti-serum, kidnapped or killed. For you, not to let any of these things happen to him.
It wouldn’t have been an issue in the first place if it was anyone else with you, but since Steve goddamn Rogers had decided to--- no. Not today. He truly was trying to be bearable. You’d meet him halfway; but you’d be damned if you didn’t keep your eyes open.
“I forgot to tell you earlier,” you murmured as the quinjet touched down on one of the rooftops on a nearby hotel, courtesy of Tony’s negotiating skills – his irresistible charm, as he would say – earning you Steve’s startled look. “You clean up well too.”
His shoulders sagged, eyebrow arching subtly, but his surprise melted into a slight smile again. “Thank you. Shall we?”
Like the gentleman he had been raised to be, he offered you an elbow as the ramp of the quinjet opened for you to step out. There was no need – you had walked on far worse surfaces than this in heels before, you had been forced to run and kick in them too – and you had to physically swallow the remark that would inform Steve about that. But you’d be an idiot to not see that he didn’t offer you an arm to be condescending; he did so to be nice. You could work with nice.
“Thanks.”
And with that, you stepped out, counting steps until you’d walk into the lion’s den indeed.
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To say that functions, balls and auctions were not your scene would be a serious understatement. Not in the sense of you being unable to tackle them, no – you had plenty of experience – but in the sense of you absolutely despising them. Specifically, you couldn’t stand what people pretended to be when in that environment; and that included you.
It hadn’t always been like that; visiting events like this started off pleasant. People in luxury robes with wide smiles and subtle laughs echoing in glimmering halls were a thrilling environment before. Before you could fully understand what was happening, before you could read the room. It was only much later when you’d identify these events as necessary evil when working for SHIELD and the time between the two points was a long journey.
Your father would have sneaked into these, either in his own ways or through your mother’s alleged renown status; and you, naturally, went with them. She’d often leave you and your father to your own devices, charming guests into adoring her, speaking of her dedication to both her work and her family, particularly to her daughter, her tone speaking louder than her words in the case of the latter; contempt.
Meanwhile, your father was the complete opposite. He had you joined at his hip, a crutch for when his own tactics of pretending to be someone truly indispensable to SHIELD failed. If people roaming higher circles of society didn’t recognize him as the god’s gift to humanity he hoped to come across as, you’d come in; a charming young lady ready to take the world by storm, his beloved daughter, his pride and joy. Errors made that day, that week or past months didn’t matter – they didn’t exist at the moment, your performance always painted as perfect for the sake of the bragging.
It was a divine experience to receive so much praise, him sounding so earnest in front of all those people; it got sicker and more twisted the older you got, seeing the mask slipping on and off as it suited him, knowing that in the discomfort of home, you were none of what he described you as that to him. And yet. To be finally loved and seen as exceptional by your own father, the one person who had always believed in you and told you so; who wouldn’t want that? Just a taste; like melting hot chocolate on your tongue, thoroughly warming your very being, the softest of blankets that turned scratchy the moment you left the room, snatched away to leave you out in the cold reality of being born a hope and growing up a failure. But those moments, those moments you craved as much as you hated them. Because you knew they would never last.
It was one of the many contradictions of your childhood and adolescence, one of many topics of your therapy sessions that seemed to have no end. It reminded you of what Lincoln always said – that every Inhuman had a purpose and that every Inhuman’s power reflected, to a point, who they were. The way you felt you were often being pulled in two directions, loved and despised, dotted on and ignored, obedient and rebellious, to be exactly who your father had always intended for you to be and find your own path – or pretend you could, for a bit at least, to give him a glimpse of a real disappointment; all goals in direct opposition to each other. You were surprised your ability wasn’t the same as Alisha’s who could literally split herself into several images of herself. But you were hardly an overachiever, were you? You had learned long time ago that perfection was out of your reach, no matter how much you’d cry and bleed and clawed your way through to it, only to see the top of the mountain move when your fingers had almost touched it at last. And on top of that mountain; people like Steve Rogers. The man who could shove it into anyone’s face that it wasn’t that the summit was too high; it was just that they were too small of a person. That you weren’t enough.
It wasn’t fair to despise him for it. But it wasn’t fair that some of these people could insult you to your face and imply you were a lesser Avenger – while representing them nevertheless – and you had no chance to truly fight back without somewhat proving them right.
About a hundred and then some boring conversations later, encounters in which you felt your skin crawl because you hated rubbing elbows, facing fake smiles and carefully crafted politeness with veiled insults weaved between the words of those who could afford it, you were ready to take a break and you were afraid it was beginning to show too.
Captain Steve Rogers, of course, did not seem tired of pleasantries in the slightest; the golden boy still roamed among the crowds, more than willing to engage in any conversation, shaking hands and rubbing elbows indeed as if he had been born to do exactly that. Crowds loved him and that was a fact, whether what Tony had insinuated was correct or not and Steve couldn’t stand this kind environment either indeed.
You had to give it to Steve, however – and truly, you should have expected it, because this was Steve Rogers, originally a little man who could not stand people looking down at others, less so diminish someone’s worth, and he was the protector, the ultimate good guy, the perfection personified – the encounters you had handled side by side with him did not see you neglected. Quite the opposite. If someone didn’t recognize you, which applied to the majority, he was happy to introduce you, or, as it had been in most cases, he had you introduce yourself and only then he highlighted your importance to the team if anyone seemed less that impressed.
Contrary to what you would believe, his words and demeanour, however, pushed the icky sensation of the scene away rather than intensified it. Unlike your father, Steve didn’t have you trail after him. He didn’t belittle you to lift himself up. He didn’t boast about his brilliant decision to reassign you to the team since you were so useful When he spoke of you as the new addition to the team, he didn’t highlight your most recent accomplishment either, not with a condescending or patronizing tone or words that would make it sound as if he as saying oh she saved a few people just two days ago, including Natasha Romanoff, someone give her a candy.
Steve didn’t speak of you as if you were hisachievement, didn’t speak of letting you join the team, of the cooperation being his or their choice.
“We are honoured to have her join the team,” he’d say instead.
“With every mission she takes on, she proves how fortunate we are that she is one of us.”
“Her contributions to our common goal are invaluable.”
“She is an essential part of our team and we are thankful she continues to make this world a safer place with the rest of us.”
On one hand, it was almost sweet; on the other, it was irritating. You didn’t need him to earn you their respect and it should make you livid he was trying to do that, to play the hero who’d rush to your rescue. To a point, it did, because you could fight your own battles; but this battlefield tended to make you slip into a mindset you hated – made you slip into a skin you hated wearing. Still, Steve’s tendency to make it his personal mission that you were not overshadowed by him – a futile effort truly – should make your blood boil, because there he was, the world’s mightiest saviour in action again.
But the way his body language changed when someone eyed you as if you were an unwanted addition to the conversation seemed to whisper of other things than self-proclaimed white knight needing to sweep in; it expressed itself as a personal insult to him that your supposed brilliance was not acknowledged. It seemed almost as if he was gesturing to you wildly with his large palms, his voice as if demanding from the people he spoke to: do you really not see how amazing she is? Are you an idiot? Naturally, he was doing so in much distinguished manner, but that was how it felt.
You were certain someone must have got to you before Tony did back in the park, landing a hit to your head or two, causing a microtrauma that only now manifested in your entirely skewed perception and hallucinations. They must have, there was no other plausible explanation. Or maybe you had actually died; laying your life for Natasha’s would have certainly been a worthy cause. Or perhaps it wasn’t so dramatic and you had simply slipped into a coma and this was some weird manifestation of your brain recovering.
And yet, you had a feeling that if you pinched yourself, you would still feel as grounded in this strange reality as you did now, the intense surge of affection for the man still overwhelming, the satisfaction of seeing the swellheads meek and slightly embarrassed at Steve’s tone upon them dismissing you curling hot in your core. You needed to stop revel in it so much.
But be as it might, despite trying to carefully shield yourself from the effect of Steve’s very public words of appreciation due to knowing it wouldn’t last, you felt yourself grow taller than you ever had been in an event like this. You didn’t feel as obliged to smile politely just for the sake of pleasing others, even as you did smile. Despite the presence of Captain America, larger than life, you felt confident and powerful, even if this kind of feeling normally only came when you were on a mission with the target already in your pocket.
And yet, this surge of courage – and all the wondering about what an alternate reality you had entered – didn’t make the game of social chess less exhausting or brought it closer to your ideas of fun. After almost another hour of wandering on your own, tending to every conversation necessary and even those less necessary, you did find yourself in a need of a break and you liked to think you deserved one.
Naturally, fate – if there was such thing – did not grant you such courtesy.
When you finally did find yourself at the bar, it was one godawful encounter later – a single polite conversation that had sucked all life out of you, all of the little glow you felt you had gathered swept away with a single snap of fingers. It was unfair. It was unfair that your mother still had such hold on you after a lifetime of you being nothing but a bug on her windshield as she tried to drive into the sunset of her own glory, even months and months after her final abandonment.
The matter was only worse since it wasn’t even her. Just a distant colleague – her superior, no less. A few minutes, every second dragging since the moment Doctor Franklin had mentioned your mother, and you were ready to hit the bar for something far stronger than champagne.
“Ah, I knew I saw a resemblance. You must be so proud to wear your mother’s features and name. A strong woman, a survivor, truly dedicated to science, exploring the wonders of the nature of Inhuman transformation. Examining her own genetic code to be able to share fascinating facts of the uniqueness of her case. Even the draft of her study was most intriguing… pardon me, what was it that your abilities are after you, unlike her, simply acquired powers like everyone else?”
It shouldn’t have affected you; but it did. With what felt like chunks of metal in your stomach, the tickle of nausea in the back of your throat, you were almost proud you managed to hold somewhat of a smile, actually uncertain if the woman was clueless in the matter of politeness and tact or whether she was making a calculated insult.
“I’m afraid the exact nature of my abilities is classified, ma’am,” you replied. The words, even if they should feel full of vindication, tasted bitter on your tongue.
Trust your mother to finally find her exceptionality and built the pinnacle of her career on a flaw in her genetic code. Of fucking course. Making herself the centre of attention while being the primary source of that attention at the same time; what a brilliant move. Someone should give her a damn Nobel. You really were doing something wrong in your life.
So truly, you felt like were entitled to a breather as you walked away with a polite nod, trying not to throw up in your mouth as the world got slightly blurry at the edges for a moment, your heart pounding, knees feeling a little weak. You felt the sticky remnants of Doctor Franklin’s words linger on your skin, resisting the urge to rub it off.
You deserved a shot of something stronger. You weren’t sure anything weaker than absinth would do the trick and help you snap from the strange haze your body slipped into; but facing the man behind the improvised bar, you couldn’t make yourself ask for that however.
Well-aware that you needed to keep at least some face since the mission of the evening was to represent, you opted for vodka, small shot only. And despite the weary conversations, you didn’t forget: in addition to representing, you wanted to be ready to fight whoever could possibly go after Rogers. As much as you’d like to get wasted to feel actual nausea instead, something tangible and real like the burn of the strongest alcohol known to mankind, you couldn’t. Vodka it was.
You turned the shot bottoms-up, focusing fully on the hot trickle down your throat, the fire dampening all your other senses; and for a few second, it was bliss.
Until your nostrils were hit by an unfairly familiar cologne and aftershave, a deep timbre soaking into your bones whenever spoken despite how much you tried not to let it do exactly that.
“Having fun as we were ordered?”
You froze, shame, indignation and the alcohol lightning you up like a wildfire.
Great, Mr. Morality is here, you thought darkly, setting the glass down, turning to Steve with poorly masked annoyance. Annoyance which was quickly wiped out, the flames licking at your gut put out.
You expected his face to be full of judgement, anger and disappointment; but much like his voice had been, you realized, it was free of any bite or sting, simply showing light amusement and compassion, a slightly worried crinkle between his brows.
His voice had been quiet, purposely so, as not to attract lookers-on. It was a little naïve – to think he could walk in anywhere without at least ten pairs of eyes following him – but it was nice of him that he was trying not to embarrass you by publicly calling you an alcoholic.
But the gentle mix of emotion adorning his expression only made your stomach twist. It was a great paradox really; it would be so much easier to deal with tonight if he was being insufferable and judged you. But that bastard, the irritatingly handsome bastard, was being simply amazing. A much greater person you could ever be. And he didn’t mean to, probably – but he was just screaming exactly that to your face with every little action he had opted for tonight.
Not his fault, not his fault, you tried to remind yourself as he continued to watch you, curiosity sneaking into his gaze now.
Make Avengers look good.
Look good.
Have fun.
Do not kill each other.
Do not kill each other. Got it.
“Guilty as charged,” you said finally, the light tone you had hoped for not coming out quite right; but he didn’t hold it against you.
“Nothing to be guilty about,” he said, shrugging subtly. “I… might have gone for one of those myself had it had any effect on me.”
Right, you realized. Supersoldier. Accelerated healing, fast metabolism. You did happen to know he burned off most things even faster than other men built like mountains. Shorter and less broad mountains, that was.
You felt you head instinctively tilt to side a bit, contemplating what he said without spelling it out. He didn’t seemlike he needed a strong drink. In fact, he seemed perfectly like a fish in water among the sea of piranhas of people – and yes, you were aware that was a harsh judgement on some of them who were indeed rather pleasant to talk to – but Tony’s words echoed in your head.
He’s good at rubbing elbows, even if he hates it, he had said. Steve was exactly that; but apparently, he was also pretty great at hiding his distaste.
Of course that he was, you thought bitterly, even as a hint of compassion nudged at your mind; just because he was good at disguising it, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel just as sick filling the role of the most excellent companion.  
“You could do it just to feel the heat,” you suggested half-heartedly, regretting the words as soon as they left your mind.
You had to phrase it just like that, didn’t you.
Steve watched you with unnerving intensity for a moment, before he seemed to shake off whatever dark thought had occurred to him, a small smile appearing on his face.
“That is true, but somehow it’s even more disappointing if that’s the only consequence, you know?”
“…right.”
He cleared his throat, your gaze falling to his bowtie as he released you from the trap of his gaze.
“Either way. Would you like to dance?”
Your head snapped back up, shock no doubt painting your face, rendering you mute. He wasn’t--- oh he was.
Despite your expression – one painfully resembling of a deer in the headlights of an off-road SUV coming at it at hundred miles an hour – he seemed unfazed, a slight twinkle of amusement in his eye barely noticeable in the otherwise genuine demeanour. You frowned, suspicion dying out as fast as it had arisen.
Whatever motive he had to ask, it couldn’t hurt the mission, you supposed. And it would be impolite to decline. You had promised yourself to meet him halfway in his attempts to be civil; and he had gone far beyond that. For the past two weeks, not having confronted you about either the flash-drive situation nor the went-full-spectre-in-a-public-park incident, that had been him being civil. Tonight, he was courteous even. Pleasant. Kind. You had no idea why he hadn’t sought you out to get answers or scold you, nor why he went this far out of his way to treat you like this tonight, but you had enough common sense not to poke even as it had been eating away at the back of your mind.
You just needed to accept it and be thankful, and needed to aid the common goal; and maybe, just maybe, revel in it and store the memory for later, even if such luxuries only burned with emptiness once they were gone.
But how could you do any different?
“Sure,” you said simply. “Why not.”
How could you feel any different when his lips smiled half-heartedly, but his eyes showed true warmth? A startling warmth almost; but it was nothing in comparison to the heat of his body when he offered you his elbow and led you to the small dancefloor in the adjacent room with only a few high tables lining the walls; it was nothing in comparison to the soft jolt of electricity that ran through your nerves all the way down your spine when his hand took yours carefully, eyes fixed on your face, checking for any sign of discomfort when he pulled you close at the first notes of a waltz.
Up close, without either of you screaming into each other’s faces, he was painfully beautiful; you knew that. You knew that already, because you had played the forbidden game of imagining what it would be like to see his face from this distance; but the reality of it was startling, a tingle of a thrill and pain at once. Inches close and miles away from reach. To be at the receiving end of the look in his eyes, painted partly by delusion and the aforementioned hits in the head you had probably suffered, was the sweetest torture.
It was impossible to ignore his firm but gentle grip, his confident lead; a wall of perfectly controlled muscle, hard planes of his body and yet its surprising softness and warmth, leaving your head spinning and sending your thoughts to an indecent dangerous direction; what would it be to feel him even closer? What would it be like to—
You’d never know. For a large part, of your own doing; for another part, of his own, because you had never met a more irritating person in your life and you had met a quite a few. He was impossible in his very unique different way – even as you knew that was tainted by your own perception – he was impossible in a way you couldn’t but want anyway.
“You’re a wonderful dancer,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear, snapping you from your useless musings back to reality.
Yeah, thanks, I was signed up for ballet class about as soon as I could walk, because it should have helped my posture and body coordination in preparation for working for SHIELD before I could attend martial class lessons. Because a kid younger of six years getting punched would have been a bad image for my parents. Not that I knew any of that at that time. Anyway, I had to rediscover my love for dancing much later on-
You cut off your train of thought, swallowing the unnecessarily hostile and dark truth. Instead, you reciprocated his easy subtle smile, something inside your quivering at the casualness and sincerity of the compliment.
“Depends on the lead, right?” you murmured.
Mentally, you sighed, cursing yourself for your loose mouth.
You could have said something along the lines of you too, and it would be an understatement; Steve’s lead indeed was firm but not forceful, elegant ease without a shred of indecency, his sense of rhythm impeccable, which was much more than you could say about some of your companions on the dancefloor. But no; you chose to mention his leading skills, instantly circling back to what was bothering you – you having standing up to his lead as a Captain before and him not mentioning it. He had kept blissfully quiet and here you were, dangling the topic you should have been glad had been put to rest in front of him as if you wanted him to take the bait no matter the cost.
You really must have been hit in the head; or perhaps you were finally returning to normal yourself.
But Steve Rogers was a man of many faces and surprises up his sleeves, apparently. His smile only widened briefly at your note, eyes flashing with amusement, before a little frown creased his brow.
“Don’t sell yourself so short.”
You gulped. Again. He complimented you with such ease, as if it was the most natural thing in the world; and it seemed like he meant every bit. The way your heart fluttered at that ached pleasantly. Hadn’t it been for the sober voice in the back of your head, telling you were on a borrowed time of this kind of treatment, it wouldn’t ache at all. It almost, almost didn’t.
Because the one word you had left out when thinking about his lead on the dancefloor, having avoided it on purpose, was safe. You entered an uncharted territory tonight; you knew Captain America’s lead from your numerous missions you had been chosen for under his command. And even as you had challenged his leadership before, you trusted him on that front. But tonight was a very different thing; and still, he somehow emitted the same aura, in a considerably more intimate way.
It was terrifying.
But as much as you were taken aback, with no clue how to even respond to that, your instincts – probably all over the place, because had you been in sound mind, you would have run for the hills before accepting his offer in the first place – whispered you were safe indeed.
And if you’d turn it into a joke, you’d be even safer.
“If that was a reference to my height, I’d like to point out everyone is short compared to you. And that is with all the extra inches--- that my heels have.”
Oh for god’s-
Your fingers flexed reflexively on his arm; your hand in his would have twitched if he hadn’t held it so firmly. You did not just say that, did you? Closing your eyes briefly, you felt your face burn hot, the furnace of Steve’s body suddenly feeling like ice in comparison. Why on Earth did you talk about inches? First feeling the heat, then this, damn Freudian slips, damn his well-fitting suit and handsome face-
Bless him, his chuckle was good-natured and not in the slightest dirty – then again, you should have expected nothing less from the golden boy, shouldn’t you? He wouldn’t hold it against you and had it been anyone else, you would have been grateful, much like in any other situation. But this was him and tonight your mission was literally to avoid this kind of embarrassing phrasing.
“You know what I meant,” he said, not unkindly – much to your relief and irritation.
You hummed noncommittally, still processing this was somehow a reality you had found yourself in. A reality in which Steve Rogers was a pleasant company, kept you close and safe enough that you had spent several moments with your eyes closed while dancing without fearing you’d end up with a broken ankle, a reality where-
“I wanted to apologize.”
-he just said he was sorry.
Your eyes snapped open, your step, a second nature you barely needed to think about, faltering just a fraction. You found your footing with the very next step and perhaps not even Steve had noticed; but he for sure must have noticed the undiluted shock that overtook your features.
Yet, he held calm in the face of your awe and bewilderment, gaze fixed on yours whispering of nothing but sincerity and regret indeed.
He was apologizing.The sudden lump in your throat was the only thing in physical reality that felt real at all; the rest truly must have been but a fever dream. That and the frantic beats of your heart.
“For what?” you asked quietly.
You weren’t trying to be petty, if he truly was apologizing. You meant it.
Naturally, you had a good idea what he was referring to, but that was part of the reason why it was so puzzling; more so since he now knew what the intel was about, since he was aware who exactly you put in danger by failing. Then again, the fact you were both here despite it told you all over again that he didn’t let that bother him too much.
But even with him deliberately ignoring the threat…
Yes, he had not acted very thoughtfully, but whether you liked it or not, he wasyour superior, he had put together that mission and so you understood the frustration he had felt at the moment. Hell, you had felt it yourself – you would have yelled at yourself too. And looking back, you knew that some of your momentary view of his behaviour and attitude, of his actions, stemmed from the fact you had been disappointed in yourself too; and that most time, he did in fact realize he could do wrong and that he in fact did care for every single member of the team. He probably did give a damn about the fact that you – your spectre anyway – got shot. He probably cared about the fact that two days ago, you left a big damn opening when you projected in public without making sure you had someone in your corner.
You weren’t sure that there was any need to apologize, even with him yelling at you in front of everyone to the point where you hadn’t been able to stand it and a few tears had escaped you – because damn, did he touch a nerve – even if he had been a bit of an asshole.
Most people apologized because they felt the need to ease their conscience, to keep up appearances; but seeing Steve now, the soft and strict lines of his face, told you that he was apologizing for your benefit mainly. It would be sweet if it was so irritating.
Golden boy. Shoved straight to your face. You could never be as good as him, because he simply wasn’t human – and you were the Inhuman from the pair. God, he had his hands on you and he didn’t even try to cop a feel or anything for crying out loud. He was being kind and respectful and so damn beautiful and tall.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” he said slowly, gaze intent as if he wanted to make sure you absorbed every word. “I shouldn’t have done that to begin with, but the witnesses made it even worse. And all you did was making a quick decision in a difficult situation, according to your best conscience no doubt. I might not have agreed with it, but you still didn’t deserve such treatment.”
“And you’d do the same,” you added.
You almost slapped your hand over your mouth as soon as the words were out.
This was what happened when you felt safe. You talked back. Dammit.
You could see – and feel, because his chest was practically brushing yours, something you were hyperaware of even as you tried your best not to be– him breathe in to retort.
You really needed to have your head checked out. You should have just taken the apology and cherish it, like any normal person, even if it irked you that Steve Rogers was capable of self-reflection and had enough strength to admit his shortcomings. He was simply better than everyone else. It was easy to see that with no emergency in sight, but that didn’t make it easier to accept that and act accordingly every second of the day.
Yet, you tried at least now.
“Sorry! Sorry. Don’t push it, Spectre. Got it,” you blurted out, fixing a quick smile and you would have sworn you had seen a sparkle on mischief in his blue irises under the indignation. You cleared your throat. “Apology accepted, Captain.”
His relaxed his tense jaw, gaze softening further; painfully so.
“Thank you. And I thought you knew you could call me Steve.”
Golden boy – case on point. You swallowed, unable to keep the swirl of warmth in your chest from creeping into your voice even as you knew you were diving into dangerous waters with reckless abandon by following his request.
“Apology accepted, Steve.”
If your voice was warm, his smile was half the power of the sun, heating your very bones, your heart stumbling in your chest. You should run; you should run because you were never going to receive a gift like that again and the longer you basked in it, the worse it would be when it was gone. But you had already established that sometimes, you couldn’t help but throw caution out of the window despite knowing how much it would hurt later when you’d have to go and scramble to gather it again, hadn’t you?
And so when the song blended into another, the smallest squeeze to your fingers a wordless question, you nodded against your better judgement.
Steve’s smile grew a fraction, feet quick to adjust to the new rhythm, the air around you warmer another few degrees. It was hard to let his apology and kindness linger in the air and not react to it; even as you needed to breathe in and out a few times, eyes examining his face carefully as to predict whether what you were about to say would come back stabbing you in the back.
“I’m sorry for my outburst too. I… acted emotional.” As you recalled the traitorous tears that had escaped you, you thought that to say that was an understatement, but Steve didn’t seem to hold it against you. Instead, he listened with unnerving intent to all you had to say. “Which isn’t an excuse, but I’m still sorry. I… didn’t exactly watched my tongue. I mean, I didn’t-“
­-I didn’t mean what I said, you wanted to say, your voice dying in your throat at the startingly gentle blue of Steve’s eyes, your breath hitching at the sudden vice squeezing your chest. This moment, whatever it was, was becoming overwhelming fast; and you found yourself unable to force the words out.
Because they weren’t true; you had definitely meant a few things, your anger with Steve snapping you back when you had been this close to gathering intel on something that threatened, without exaggeration, his life, just because he had been outraged at… whatever, that was very real. Much like him, you had had a reason for your outburst; and for that itself, you couldn’t apologize. Not when you wouldn’t mean it. Not when he was looking at you like he’d trust anything you said. You couldn’t but reciprocate his honesty even if it should earn you an official demerit from Captain America himself.
“…I didn’t mean at least half of the things I said.”
Steve’s welcoming expression shifted in an instant, your heart already startling in reaction to the change, muscles tensing in an instinctual fight-or-flight response.
And then your brain caught up.
Steve was grinning. He was grinning with mischief lightning up his face bright, humour dancing in his eyes – good-natured humour without a single trace of offense, but maybe with a little speckle of surprise; and if you looked close enough and entertained the thought, pride.
And by god he was breath-taking, leaving you feel like you had flown too close to the sun for a moment unaware that the inevitable fall would kill you.
“Well, as long as it was only a half,” he hummed, his amusement audible in his voice too. There was a strange but not unpleasant tilt to it; almost as if he knew that if he simply accepted your apology right away, the situation would have had you run for the hills indeed. “Apology accepted, Spectre.”
You gulped, taking a wavering breath, flying just a little higher. “You know you can call me by my first name too, right?”
That was only fair, no? That was what you told yourself until Steve smiled softly and repeated himself slowly, this time with your name indeed. That was when you realized you really had caught yourself in a foolish indulgence, because the feeling washing over you was… nice. Very, very nice. His tone, his words were both indescribably nice, and so was the way he held you to lead your through the room without an ounce of indecency, and so was his proximity and his warmth. It was dangerously nice and you felt your chest, having briefly be filled with that tender fragile feeling, tighten instead.
And then Steve spoke up again.
“…and you’re probably right.”
Your eyebrows shot up, gasping; and had you any different company than a room full of important or at least self-important people dressed in black-tie attire, you wouldn’t have stopped your jaw from falling.
Did he just-
Stop the presses! you wanted to shout.
Did he just admit he himself was a hothead?
What peculiar kind of an alternate reality had you entered indeed to see Steve Rogers admit he had been a hypocrite?
This was simply too satisfying to be true.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m the best example,” he added.
You found yourself chuckling through your shock, earning a glare that might have no anger in it, but certainly emitted indignation and gravity. Except the corners of Steve’s lips were twitching.
Damn him. Damn him and his charming side. Since when did he have a charming side and engaged in self-reflection so deep?
Since always, an annoying voice whispered in your head, reminding you that at certain times, you were, in fact, very well aware that Steve Rogers was just as golden as people claimed – even if in way they couldn’t hope to fathom and neither could, not fully.
“Nah, I think it’s one of the very rare traits of yours that should definitely be copied,” you retorted cheekily, never having time to wonder if you went too far since Steve simply kept him mouth shut.
It was a good thing he did, because if he didn’t, you might get tangled in your lie; and might have to admit that you believed that while there were a few of those that shouldn’t be copied in order for the world to maintain some shreds of sanity, there were many more of those which, should they be replicated, would make the world a better place. He probably knew that anyway; he strived to be the example to all. He didn’t need to hear it from you, didn’t need to know that despite your disagreements, you felt everything but contempt for him, with respect on top of the list. And then there was the fact that you were not blind to him being literally meant to be built like the peak of man and looked precisely like it.
And still, his silence surprised you. Despite what you thought of him on better days, it was still a wonder he didn’t try to disprove you; he was full of surprises tonight.
Then again, that was probably the point.
“You know, Tony and Pepper would probably have had no problem coming here tonight,” you spoke lowly into to the silence that settled between you. “They just pushed us together to do something like this.”
Steve’s eyebrows jumped a bit, a brief smirk passing his lips.
“Well-aware. Does that bother you?” he asked, head tilted to side slightly.
You pondered his question for a bit, not sure why. You could have easily said anything, the first or the second or third lie popping up in your mind. But his genuinely curious gaze observing you as he waited for your response, his demeanour the whole evening, and his surprisingly open expression made you want to tell the truth again.
“Not that much. You’re not a bad dancer yourself,” you teased him lightly, feeling your lips permanently stuck in a smile now.
His own smirk melted into a smile again as well, soft crinkle in the corner of his eye.
“Thank you. I know I said it before, but you do look beautiful.”
You blinked.
There he went again, driving his point across; he wanted you to think, to believe perhaps, that his compliments were genuine, not a turn of speech. Why? And what could you even say to that when he kept looking at you like he meant it, the world around you blurring a bit, falling into but a background noise, years of training and his confident hold on you leading you through the dancefloor with ease still, even as the song must have changed again. Had it?
You wished conversation would come just as easy, even when emotions swirled in your chest wilder than your skirts around your calves.
“…thanks. Uhm, Tony said to buy something nice-“
“Mission accomplished, it suits you-“
“-I think he was probably sick of us clashing a lot lately,” you added quickly, almost speaking over him.
He was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for – after all, he had brought up the topic of your fight in an environment where it would have been rude of you to flee just in case you wanted to and he wasn’t called a master strategist for nothing – so he caught your attempt to deflect. And he graced it with brief silence, not pushing, letting your words hang in the air for a moment. Golden boy. Perfect. Too good.
“I suppose that’s fair,” he hummed, one corner of his lips rising higher, his smile almost boyish now. “Did I mention I was sorry?”
“Yeah... did I?”
“You did.”
“Good,” you muttered, blissfully lost in his gentle gaze, even as you had to crane you neck a bit.
The moment was sweet. Slightly electric. Surprisingly comfortable. Peaceful.
Peace.
That was a specific word. With a pang in your chest, it occurred to you that was precisely what it was that Tony intended to achieve when he assigned you to this. To begin to renew the peace that had been within the Avengers family before your presence disrupted it. And Steve had accepted the invitation with you attached to it because he saw the importance of the team holding together from the strategic point of view.
Tonight was a mission. Necessary networking, even as Steve had tried to make it feel like anything but, and necessary attempt at smoothening the relationships within the team. Yes, it was beautiful, but Tony himself had called you a Cinderella. This was but a fairy-tale. An illusion. A projection.
The very spectre of you and Steve, of you being a full Avenger.
Once tonight was over, you’d have to snap back, like you always did. And like always, the pain of what you had lost as a spectre, be it blood or a warm embrace, would linger too. Back in your cold aching reality.
But not in Steve’s; Steve would remain who he was, to the world, to his team, to his friends. To you. It had been a sweet sentiment, a good-natured attempt; and for the night, it lasted. Once again, you felt played by your own naivety, already feeling your waxed wings melting and slowly prepared yourself for the brutal landing.
You kept up your smile, even as you felt the pleasant hum in your ribcage fall silent, your eyes not burning, because there was no reason for it, was there?
“You have good friends, Steve,” you whispered, the blue of his gaze warming up with fondness as he no doubt agreed. “They might be nosy, but they mean well.”
“And they are your friends too,” he replied softly, the pang in your ribcage stronger this time. He believed that, he genuinely did. Maybe that was why it hurt so much; he had seen the worst of the world and believed in the best still; you could read it in his actions, in his expression right now.
But you couldn’t bear it anymore, your gaze falling to the smooth fabric of his bowtie, contrasting with the pristinely white shirt indeed, just as you had known from the start he would wear. Pure. The symbol of all goodness in your culture. Just like him.
You heard what he was saying and yes, it was a tempting thought you had fallen for before. That you could be friends with the team, that the others cared – but you could count the number of people who cared for you on one hand and still had fingers left. People cared for your abilities, admired them maybe, sure. But you were a realist. Even before the Natasha incident – which truly was just her doing her job – you knew and you kept repeating it to yourself, because entertaining any other possibility was dangerous: your abilities, your results or the lack of them, those were what truly mattered. To everyone. To your father, eventually your mother too, to your SHIELD team, to your fellow Avengers. To Steve too. Had those powers come in a different meatsuit than yours, it wouldn’t change a thing. You were just a casing for what they needed.
It wasn’t okay, but it was alright.
The thing was, you couldn’t make Steve admit that – not him. He was a good man – infuriating one, yes, not without fault, yes, but incredibly undeniably good in his core. All the Avengers cared for people too, you would be an idiot not to see it, but if there was one person who would try to look the furthest beyond the abilities you carried, it would be him. Perhaps that was the scariest part of tonight – of him being not only civil, but perfectly pleasant and meaning it. Because he was just that perfect.
And perfect was never in your reach.
“Sure,” you replied absently as you looked up again.
You could tell his own gaze never left your face; and he no doubt noticed the change. His eyes were roaming your features, searching, wondering and seeing; you found yourself slipping into a neutral mask, your way too relaxed stance straightening, muscles tensing.
You only tensed further when you recognized softness and understanding creeping into his gaze, his voice quiet.
“You know-“
You thanked your lucky stars when the song ended and you were allowed to step back from him with an awkward smile.
“I’m going to find the restroom, excuse me.”
You swallowed heavily upon seeing something akin to disappointment and exasperation on his face; but when you pulled away, he didn’t stop you, didn’t use his strength to keep you in place, leaving the choice – as much as he clearly not approved of it – to you. You tried to force your smile further, grateful for that if not for nothing else.
“Thank you for the dance, stranger.”
And with that, you disappeared to the crowd, well-aware that if he wanted, he could have followed, because even in the sea of robes, his eidetic memory told him exactly what yours looked like.
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Getting a fifteen-minute break from people, one in particular, was more than generous and yet you granted it to yourself; because putting yourself back together took time. Not for the first time, you sent a silent thank you to Agent May for having taught you her ways of accepting your emotions as they were, locking them away for later and channel them in the right direction when needed.
If you counted your dances with Steve – even as you tried very hard not to think about them – it added up for almost half an hour of the breather you had planned when getting the drink. You needed to go back to work, back to networking, because it was getting late; you had no doubt there were still people to talk to, no matter how efficient your colleague had been.
As you walked the halls with a smile arranged on your face, nodding politely at people admiring the various pieces of art of all forms, from drawings and paintings to sculptures and installations, your gaze fell on one of auctioned objects.
You smile slipped, your steps faltering along with the steady beat of your heart; and then you forced the corners of your lips back up, nails digging into the back of your hand as you folded them in front of your abdomen, to stop yourself from running to the glass stand where what seemed like a very old artifact was laid proudly on display.
And by old, you meant thousands of years old. And you really, really prayed that you were wrong, that your mind was simply playing tricks on you to avoid the emotional turmoil of today, to-
“Son of a-”
Three more steps closer and the curse was on your lips before you could swallow it completely, heart thundering in your chest against the sudden tightness. You didn’t like to be wrong; but in this particular case, you really wished you had been.
But apparently not.
See, this is why we can’t have nice things, you thought to yourself as you released a wavering breath and took off in the search of Steve, as if you hadn’t run from what seemed to be particularly nice things yourself only a little over ten minutes ago.
You swallowed the panic rising in your throat as you caught a glimpse of him talking to an elderly couple, telling yourself that your discovery was the only reason for that. Because that would be plausible and completely valid; an appearance of what SHIELD called an 0-8-4, an object of unknown origin, was never good news.
Except you were rather certain of its origin and that only made it worse.
Steve spotted you now, a small smile lighting up his face as if you hadn’t just taken an escape from when he tried to convince you were a part of the team in the friendliest sense of the word, gesturing to you lightly so the couple turned to you as well.
You smiled wider, squeezed your hand stronger. Too bad – the Lewises – had seemed nice enough when you had read up on them, were one of the rare attendees who were here for their genuine interest in art.
“Good evening, I am so sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Lewis, Mr. Lewis,” you said sincerely, introducing yourself as the lady already extended her hand to you, followed by her husband’s. “It is a pleasure to meet you and I would be very happy to talk to you if you’d be willing, but I need to borrow Captain Rogers for a little bit-“  
“By all means, Agent, don’t let a couple of old folks keep you two,” Mrs. Lewis chuckled, gently touching Steve’s forearm as she smiled at him almost motherly. “Thank you, young man, it’s nice to see bright young minds interested in conversations about thought-provoking art. Do find us if you can spare another minute later.”
“I would personally use the words lovely couple, Mrs. Lewis,” you said warmly before turning to Mr. Lewis. “I promise to bring him back as soon as possible.”
“It’s been a pleasure,” Steve added as he covered her feebly hand on his, squeezing gently. “Agent?”
“Just a small issue, I’m sure it can be dealt with quickly,” you assured him in front of them, your face growing more serious the second you turned away, your voice falling so low only his enhanced hearing could hopefully catch it. “Thought-provoking art indeed. There’s an 0-8-4 on the items list.”
The way Steve’s back straightened, a sign of him turning mission-alert in an instant, would have been a treat to watch in any other circumstance, you supposed. But not in yours. And not in this case.
As you walked away, he followed your unhurried tempo, stopping by the displays briefly when you did, as if you were simply admiring the art. His face gave away nothing unusual happening beyond a minor inconvenience; you weren’t sure if he believed you were making a big deal out of nothing or if he was that good of an actor.
“Anything you encountered before? Potentially how dangerous are we talking?”
His voice had dropped too, but barely enough for you to hear. To an untrained eye, it probably looked like a normal hushed conversation, a couple – of friends – sharing opinions on the auction items indeed. Good. You didn’t need to spread panic on top of barely containing your own.
“Yes and no, I only recognize the symbols. And I can’t tell, but I wouldn’t underestimate it,” you uttered as you gradually moved closer, the artifact now in sight.
Steve stood diagonally beside you, barely a step behind your shoulder; he could keep his voice very low that way, practically whispering to your ear, while you could keep talking almost soundlessly.  
“Should I recognize this? I’m not familiar.”
You bit back a bitter smile, stepping in front of the display together at last. The item itself looked unassuming; a stabile built of plates of metal, interwoven and reaching out of the tangle like tentacles. Except the surface of the plates wasn’t smooth; an intricate pattern of lines and circles rose slightly above it, a geometrical masterpiece only a few people on Earth knew the meaning of. Outside of Earth, well; you wouldn’t dare to guess.
The good news, hopefully, was that the sculpture meant to be in one piece was broken into two; that meant that if the effect was, like with many others you had encountered, tied to breaking the casing of whatever weapon it could be hiding, it had been out for a while and thus might not pose danger anymore. But you weren’t willing to take that chance.
“I’m not sure,” you whispered, almost choking out the words, wary of one word in particular as not to alarm anyone in vicinity just in case. “It is mostly Coulson’s team that handles all the… Kree mess.”
Short silence followed, only for Steve to draw in a shaky breath.
“…are you positive?”
It probably wasn’t meant to be a challenge, but you took it as one anyway, a flare of anger rushing through your veins, because was he serious? That was genuinely insulting. You spent practically your whole post-academy service to SHIELD with Coulson’s team following the trail of artifacts left behind by the lovely alien race Kree were – in fact, artifacts uncomfortably resembling this one. So yes, you were pretty bloody positiveyou were right.
You turned to Steve and took a step back to throw to his face – in as calm manner as was socially acceptable despite wanting to just spit it out – that you were pretty damn certain, because one did simply not forget a single thing about the literally blue aliens that indirectly gave them powers. Except you never got to make a single sound, because Steve’s eyes widened all of sudden, gaze still fixed on the display you had just turned your back to and his fingers closed around your wrist and tugged you closer to him again with surprising force given how gentle he had held you when you-- so not the time.
“Alright, point proven,” he whispered hastily, stepping back and releasing you before you could question him just turning from a gentleman of the year to a lout who just… grabbed a woman and manhandled her.
Frowning, you glanced over your shoulder just in time to see a faint light of the symbols dying out, your panic skyrocketing and making you forget all about your exasperation.
Oh. Oh, that was not good at all.
It recognized you. It sensed the Inhuman in you as you had unwittingly moved closer to it. It was reacting even sooner than the Diviner had, the first Kree artifact your team had encountered, whose symbols only lit up upon being touched by an Inhuman, or a person carrying Inhuman markers in their DNA yet to be turned into one.
“Sorry for-“
“It’s fine,” you interrupted his apology, appreciating it nevertheless. Yet, your smile probably turned out to be more of a grimace, bitter sarcasm bleeding into your tone. “Well, Tony said we should bid on something anyway, right? I’ve got my pick”.
Steve’s eyebrow twitched without a hint of amusement, but he didn’t disprove you, moving to scan the room for any vendor to start bidding indeed; you automatically reached for your black-tie-attire-friendly StarkWatch, to alert the HQ.
You never got to finish the message.
Steve never got to even step out.
A tell-tale metallic sound, a clink of a grenade hitting the tiled floor had both of you snap your head to the source, losing two precious seconds by looking for where exactly it landed, startled intakes of breath taken before a scream could gather in your lungs to warn people to get down.
There was no time to react. The screams aligned with the eardrum-rupturing noise of an explosion, a blur of a movement to your right and a force to be reckon with slamming into you.
Even without his signature weapon, Steve automatically threw himself between you and the grenade, pushing you down and shielding you with his body at least. The heat licked at your skin just as the pressure wave slammed into you both, sending you flying and crashing hard into the glass cabinet, Steve’s arm taking large portion of the brunt of impact.
A jolt of electricity rushed through your nerves along with the pain, a dull crack in your head, the edges of your vision blurring. You barely registered the stream of agents in black gear cutting through the clouds of smoke and vapour tear gas. Smell of copper and iron hit your nostrils, strong enough to make you nauseous; blood and fire. Steve’s cologne; then more blood. Lights and shadows bleeding into one, the former too bright for your smoke-filled teary eyes. The noise was deafening too – shouts and shrieks of terror you knew you should respond to, because it was your duty as an agent and as a half-baked Avenger.
But you didn’t seem to control your body for long enough to as much as lift your hand to check if the sharp pain in the back of your head was an open wound or not, let alone to climb to your feet as Steve’s voice echoed in your ears, warm hands firm on your waist, prickling sensations like thousand needles piercing through your skin all over.
The pain tore through every single cell of your body without warning, but you didn’t have time to find the cause or wallow in it; darkness enveloped you completely and you sank into its thick waters without a chance to fight it, until it swallowed you whole.
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Next chapter
Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist
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Hope you don’t mind a little cliffhanger, hehe... as a treat for reading! I wanna say I was really excited about this chapter, sneaking in something soft and fluffy in between the angst, but I’m excited to share everything so... yeah.
I would like to take a moment or two to thank you, again, for your comments. They give me a rush of joy and I read every single one of them more than once; they give me strength to continue even when sudden feeling of ‘this is meh’ attacks me and the thoughts you share ground me back in the story when I feel like I’m slipping away from where I wanted to take it. I cherish your feedback, no matter the form, so much. Thank you 💕
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