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#watching him is like a drug bro
skitskatdacat63 · 5 months
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"it was good fun! Surprisingly competitive I would say!"
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crayonfears · 5 months
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hey just letting you know that I’m the person you wrote the 2 comments 🥲 btw I was wondering how you would describe the childhood of the jangbros? because the show didn’t did them really justice and I think your opinion will be really interesting 🙏
hi there, friend! so happy to see you again! sorry it took me a while to answer this. i've just been so busy haha
my thoughts on jangbros' childhood really depends on my mood 🙈 you're right that the show did them no justice at all - and a part of me is disappointed that two integral characters were left so underdeveloped; another part of me is actually delighted that that's the case since that means my ass can just jump in and fill the gaps as i please hehe MY canon now.
personally, i like to play around a lot with how they met, when they met, and how that would affect their dynamic/relationship. this is something you'd get to see in my next fics which, hopefully will be finished soon - i won't spoil anything now hehe 😉
if you want to stick close to canon, though. i like that they first met on a hunting trip. han seok said the gun scared him, which is most definitely a lie, though i like to think that he pretended to be scared for han seo's sake - a way to show, 'hey, we're so alike, right? you got nothing to be afraid of me for 🤓' han seo didn't know at all what was about to hit him rip. another thing that i also cling onto from canon is han seo's drug abuse. i wish they'd developed on it more than just a throwaway line and those callous reactions from cha young and vincenzo ;; i would've loved to know how he broke away from it - if he ever did at all. my personal hc is han seok's got him sober, mainly because he'd be the kind to think drug use is dirty, beneath them - ironic since he's making drugs that'd get people addicted smh - and well, how would han seo feels anything han seok does to him if he's doped out of his mind?
ahh but that's too far from their childhood now. another thing i'd love to know is the kids han seok murdered in his youth. was there another reasons beyond him not liking the look of them? my shipper brain has some ideas haha, perhaps they showed too much interest in han seo, or any interest at all. maybe han seo showed interest in them so han seok had to cut it right off at the bud, showed han seo that there could only one person han seo was allowed to look at. yandere!han seok, my beloved haha
i also like to think about han seok patching han seo up from the wounds he himself caught. them in the bathroom of their massive villa, han seo sitting on the sink and trying not to flinch at how rough hyungnim is being with his wounds. the same hands that hurt him now working to fix him up. the push and pull that han seo kept han seo coming back no matter how much han seok has hurt him. i think han seo would learn better as he grew up but still, his child's mind could only see how kind his hyungnim is being, makes him forget all the hurt.
there's also that period of time where han seok was in the US and han seo's all alone in Korea. did they keep contact? han seok has shown han seok with so little monitoring on han seo - which i thought was so bizarre considering han seo's han seok's fall guy. i like to imagine han seok as so clingy, the kind to text every day and micromanage han seo's every decision even with an ocean away from them. he had to have away to keep himself in his dongsaeng's psyche; so he wouldn't forget him. but if they didn't keep contact, then what would han seo be like during those years? would he have grown out of the abuse han seok inflicted on him? i like to think that he did - han seo grew up to be such a brat, rolling his eyes and making devil horns behind han seok's back; so maybe he just grew to be a little less afraid of han seok in those years apart than he would've had they stayed together.
anyways, this sure is all over the place haha. i'm not even sure i answered your question. i tend to ramble a lot when talking about these two. let me know if you want me to specify anything, or if you wanna know more about them. as i said, i'm always down to talk about these two losers 🥰
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yeonban · 7 months
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Being in Tobias' mind is such an intriguing experience bc you'd typically expect him to only care about getting richer and richer for riches' sake like most other "villains" do, but all he wants is excitement, fun and the feeling of being alive. He couldn't care less if his life were to be put at stake, nor if his entire wealth were to vanish overnight. Sure, he's confident he could get it all back if it ever happened, but it also shows what money is to him. A means to an end, rather than the goal to strive for
#muse: tobias.#At the end of the day he's using that money to have FUN rather than for power or influence or what have you that maddens people#and it Shows bc I've glanced over some of his former threads and he fr just. offered to buy an entire clothing line for a blond woman#NOT because he wanted her favor; but simply bc he wanted to see what her REACTION to it would be. for funsies and whimsies#Does he do what will bring him most money? Sure. Does he do it FOR the money? Naww#If he had to do smth he disliked or didn't felt like doing; he would Not do it even if money was on the line. Exceptions: indebting people#If anything he'd think putting that money on a hook and dangling it in front of bosses (re: leaking that there's a chance to gain it)#while simultaneously getting in their way would be a x100 funnier experience. And usually it'd still end up bringing him $$$#I'm trying to remember what he's used his money for thus far and tbh it's been the usual (drinks-drugs-cigars-luxury) AND pampering others#except I??? realized a while back that he's Never gotten drunk. NEVER. so all that money goes moreso into subtly manipulating people#He's even willing to forgive their debts at his owned bars & clubs as long as he imagines that way's going to end up more exciting#I feel like he's one of those bosses people would prefer to have over the alternatives bc it feels Easier to deal w him than live in fear#which is fascinating bc it's true that Tobias isn't bloodthirsty and /can/ be counted on; but imo it's scarier to not know what tf he wants#Bro jumped out of a window and waited for Gevanni to catch him just to give that man an experience resembling a heart attack LIKE. 😭😭😭#It's good if you can manage to /befriend/ Tobias bc it means you're safe from him... but if you get in /other/ trouble then it's a 50/50#if he'll help you or find it more amusing to watch til the last second. Altho ig AT LEAST he'll intervene before things get Too bad for you#If you're not friends w him/he doesn't find you entertaining & it's too much effort to help you tho... sayonara.
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earmo-imni · 1 year
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Why must my mother constantly engage in a fucking pissing match with my eleven-year-old brother.
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cyaneyedcl · 2 years
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no show has ever made me punch my bed and walls so many times as miraculous ladybug has, this shit is FRUSTRATING
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konigsblog · 2 months
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P!LINK COD MWII MASTERLIST (3) (🌽)
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. STRICTLY 18+. ALL MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.
BEWARE: DARKER THEMES BELOW.
P!LINK MWII MASTERLIST (1)
P!LINK MWII MASTERLIST (2)
PHOTO CREDIT: @GLUTT_R ON 🐦/X
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KÖNIG
being forcefully bred and impregnated by your kidnapper.
letting virgin!loser!könig hump your ass.
popular!reader finally taking nerd!könig's virginity.
petite!reader taking könig's cock for the first time.
being overstimulated by your best friend.
könig drugging his favourite cosplayer to have his way with them in their hotel room.
‘face down, ass up...” with könig.
breeding kink compilation with könig.
rapist!könig who can't hold himself back from having you inside of his car.
popular!reader sucking on nerd!könig's tip.
letting cbf!könig lose his virginity to you.
perv!könig who's absolutely obsessed with your titties.
thigh fucking with perv!könig.
SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY
letting older-boyfriend!simon take your ass.
letting older-boyfriend!simon play with and tease your slick pussy.
‘face down, ass up...” with mean!simon.
being fucked by toxic!simon inside of his car after a breakup.
kidnapped!reader developing stockholm syndrome for simon.
letting dealer!simon use your holes as compensation because you're unable to pay him.
how mean!simon puts you in your place.
stepbrother!simon uses your asshole for the first time.
pounded into by your stepbrother as punishment after stealing form his stash of weed.
size kink with simon riley.
JOHNNY ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH
stepson!johnny using his sweet stepmom's soft cunt to lose his virginity.
overprotective!stepbro!soap showing his stepsister what it feels like to be fucked properly after being cheated on.
treating cbf!soap to a blowjob.
making out and riding toxic!soap mactavish.
satisfying perv!johnny's needs.
letting perv!johnny obsess over your holes.
throat trained by johnny.
rewarding gamer!soap for winning a round.
taking care of sub!soap.
sucking off sleazebag!soap.
KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK
rough sex with toxic!gaz.
taking care of gaz by riding him.
“face down, ass up...” with gaz.
rapist!gaz finally re-enacting his darkest, sickest fantasies.
size kink with gaz garrick.
having sex with standing up with gaz.
being kidnapped by perverted!gaz, for him to record your rape and profit from it.
stepbro!gaz who intoxicates you for his own amusement.
encouraging gym-bro!gaz by bouncing on his lengthy dick.
getting off using gym-bro!gaz.
getting drunk and overstimulated with gaz.
CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE
stepdad!price raping his stepdaughter as punishment for losing their virginity.
letting your captain grind against your pussy as a form of release after a mission went wrong.
showing off to your stepfather after being trained by your stepbrothers.
kidnapper!price bullying his sweaty cock into your cunt for the first time.
letting your stepdad have a taste of your cunt.
prostitute!reader being throat fucked by price.
watching a movie with your husband.
creep!price with his favourite little sex worker.
gang bang with stepdad!price and your stepbrothers.
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highvern · 2 months
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When in Rome
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader
Genre: fluff, smut, angst
warnings: alcohol consumption, cheating, nudity, mentions of drug use, explicit sexual acts (unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral, swallowing)
Length: ~24k
Note: excited to have this for the @svthub world tour collab! thank u to @gyuswhore for helping, @wonuvs for fact checking my shitty italian, @the-boy-meets-evil for making sure i actually finished this fic bc i live to torture her and everyone else who contributed to this over the months it took me to finally write it!
this is from cheol's pov which was a new challenge but i loved it (i will never do it again). i'll be out of town when this goes up but can't wait to read everyone's feed back!!!
Summary: After months of no contact, Seungcheol isn't sure what to expect when he sees you again at Jeonghan's wedding. He's prepared to apologize, to grovel, to bear the weight of a cold shoulder. Whatever it takes to have you back, his best friend since diapers; or whatever will ensure the last third of your trio has the best day of his life. But when he overhears the most recent development in your relationship, he must come to terms with something he was never prepared for, or risk losing you for good.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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There are fewer places Seungcheol hates more than airports. Dentist offices, his grandparents’ house during the holidays when they ask about grandkids, and even the time he ran into his elementary school science teacher the first time he was buying condoms at the pharmacy, all were more favorable than the hustle and bustle of an international airport. 
Seungcheol likes to be straightforward and direct. Something that becomes seemingly at odds with the average person traveling because at the one place everyone has somewhere to be, they act as if they have all the time in the world.
But the simple thought that it's all temporary, that his personal ninth circle of hell is the only thing standing between him and a week in Italy is enough to grin and bear it. 
On the other side of the terminal, his best friends are waiting for him. It’s not as if they haven’t seen each other for long; Jeonghan and Sofie were at bar trivia last week as their last hurrah before tying the knot. As usual they wiped the floor with everyone, rousing several allegations of cheating that Jeonghan deserved. But Seungcheol is about to watch them get married and it makes him a little misty around the eyes because he loves his friends more than anything. 
The only concern, which is less of a concern and more of a titanic size anchor sinking in his gut, is that you’re one of Sofie’s bridesmaids. And you haven’t spoken to him since New Years when you revealed you were moving to New York with your boyfriend, Johnny.
Another place Seungcheol dreads, right next to the airport, is anywhere Johnny happens to be. He’s everything you aren’t: abrasive, arrogant, catty, disorganized. And those are just the traits at the front of the alphabet. 
You had a plan. A list of criteria he had to listen to over and over again after each failed date. Even the guys Seungcheol set you up with after carefully vetting didn’t seem to make the mark. It was respectable, commendable. You wouldn’t settle for anything less than “perfect.” Whatever that meant to you. 
At a bar, three years ago, Johnny approached you. Seungcheol watched from across the table as you mentally ran over your checklist. Johnny met the physical ones: tall, good hygiene, well kept appearance. The other things would need more investigation. What did he do for work? Was he close with his family? Kids? Opinions on cheating at bar trivia?
The more Seungcheol learned about Johnny after your detailed debrief from a few dates the more confused he became. Johnny worked in banking. You hated finance bros and called them scum of the dating pool. He was an only child and only talked to his parents on holidays and birthdays. You had grand dreams of close grandparents and houses full of cousins. He didn’t want kids. You did. He didn’t think bar trivia was that serious. Seungcheol watched you threaten Jeonghan’s life on more than one occasion over the use of Shazam during the music round. Johnny was everything you said you didn’t want. 
And then you followed him across the country after two years of dating cut with three breakups. 
It didn’t make sense. 
When Seungcheol pulled you aside after you announced you’d be moving, trying to figure why you thought living with the man who once asked if you really needed to wash bath towels if you only use them when you’re already clean, you told him to mind his business. Later that night, after enough drinks to make everything blurry, you two got into a screaming match on the sidewalk with your shared friends attempting to play referee. It was the last time you two spoke. 
In over twenty five years of friendship, founded on the backs of elementary school shenanigans under a reign of terror of one Jeonghan Yoon, you and Seungcheol’s real fights can be counted on one hand. 
The sixth grade field trip where you and Jeonghan left him out, senior year of highschool when the girl Seungcheol took to prom argued about his parents taking more pictures with you than her, and junior year of college when Seungcheol caught you making out with his frat brother after ditching him under the guise of having a stomach bug. That was it. Three fights, all of which were resolved within a week because as stubborn as you both are, you’re best friends. 
Five and a half months of not speaking, except when you called Seungcheol in the middle of the night without leaving a message and when he tried calling you back in the morning you didn’t answer. Not until a month later when he finally swallowed his pride and texted a half hearted apology to which you responded with a quarter of forgiveness. That was it. 
But Seungcheol won’t dwell. He refuses to make things awkward for Jeonghan and Sofie during the most special week of their lives. Knowing you, you’ve probably already come to the same resolution. The only person you’re closer to than Seungcheol is Jeonghan with Sofie a close second. If there is anyone you two will agree to put aside an argument for, it's them.
The sun has already begun setting when he makes it through customs and out towards the Arrivals, painting everything in buttery yellow. 
“SEUNGCHEOOOOOOOOOLLLLLL!” Sofie screams, hands cupped around her mouth.
She’s half outside the cherry red sports car. An Intermeccanica Italia Spyder because Seungcheol knows three things in life: expensive watches, expensive whiskey, and expensive cars. Sofie’s family happened to have plenty of the last and Seungcheol assumed the first two as well.
When Sofie became his study partner in law school she ended up following him on Instagram. He assumed from the way she carried herself, perfect posture with tailored clothes and an ‘air of society’ as you called it, that she was well off. But then, during a late night gossip session, you and he did a deep dive and found out Sofie wasn’t just well off. Her family had more money than God. 
But everything on the surface was a contrast to who Sofie really was. Heiress to a fortune but studied more than anyone in their class just to graduate second. Perfect posture and tailored clothes are a stark contrast to her favorite bar where she’d outdrink anyone, and cheer when the prize for trivia was cheap plastic margarita glasses.
Or right now, where she belts Seungcheol’s name again like some drunk frat boy while sitting in a car worth more than his life.
Seungcheol jogs to where she waits, already smiling. 
“I would have brought a ‘Welcome back from rehab’ sign but my mom thought you’d be embarrassed,” Sofie says as she hugs him over the console. 
“At least make it ‘welcome home from prison’ so people won’t walk in my way.”
“I’ll make sure Jeonghan remembers you have a preference,” she calls over the wind. 
Technically, the house (which is really a mansion) is almost an hour from the airport. With Sofie’s driving it only takes twenty minutes in which Seungcheol thinks he might need to start going to church. 
The pebbled driveway crunches underneath the tires as they approach the imposing building he’d call home for the weekend.
In the evening light, the house is more daunting. An imposing stone facade rises from the ground, akin to a small castle than an actual home. Smooth stone with detailed carvings, windows with huge shutters, and on the top floor, a balcony, fenced with wrought iron, juts out.
Even after years of seeing pictures, Seungcheol still can’t believe his friend grew up here. He can’t believe it actually exists and isn’t some set from a historical drama.
Sofie throws the car in park right in front of the door before jumping out. 
“By the way, there were some issues with one of the rooms.” Sofie drops her voice, “My aunt and uncle are fighting again, so I hope you don’t mind sharing?”
Seungcheol knows most of the guys coming to the wedding. Worst case scenario he’s stuck in a twin size bunk bed with a weird cousin. And with how busy he’ll be as best man, his room will be for sleep and not much else. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Perfect! Just leave your stuff, everyones out back.” Sofie pushes him as hard as she can manage which isn’t much at all given she’s five foot nothing. 
The garden is filled with bodies upon bodies crowded together, some old, some young. Seungcheol recognizes a few faces in the mix: Soonyoung, Joshua, Seungkwan. More friends from law school. Jeonghan’s sister waves from across the way. Everyone seems to be paying attention to whatever is happening at the iron garden table. 
And then, like a scene in a movie, everyone parts for a second and time freezes. 
Seungcheol would recognize you anywhere. Even if he can’t see your face, he knows it's you. The curve of your shoulders, the tilt of your head. The bark of laughter as your chin drops forward. He knows it's you and the weight in his stomach lightens and leadens in an odd cycle.
He missed you.
Then everything comes back into real time. Wine and cards. Then he sees the chips on the table, your stack to the side significantly higher than anyone else's. 
Months of ruminating over what he’d do when reunited fly out the window. Seungcheol doesn’t waste a minute as he approaches, hand on the back of your chair as he peeks over your head to sneak a glance at your hand.
“Who let you talk them into poker?”
You’re already smiling when you tilt back to look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
Oh, how he missed you.
“She said she didn’t know how to play,” an old man grumbles from the side. 
Seungcheol doesn’t recognize him but he’s got the same expression as all the people you’ve sharked before: mildly impressed and slightly murderous. Two other guys sit at the table, one old enough to be his grandfather looks almost proud. Seokmin fills that last seat, head in his hands at being swindled so easily. 
“I said,” you start, throwing your gaze to him. “I hadn’t played in a while.” 
You look back up at Seungcheol for some kind of support. Eyes round and innocent in a way you both know you’re not. Pool, cards, darts, any game a man a few drinks in could beat you at was easy fodder for your con. Usually it ended with free drinks, sometimes money, but mostly it’s Seungcheol playing referee for the disillusioned guys you swindled while wearing a bright grin. 
Tossing a few chips towards the three men at table with a smart ‘don’t spend it all in one place,’ you rise and throw your arms around Seungcheol like everything is normal. 
“Hi,” you whisper into his neck.
Seungcheol’s hands are already curled around your waist, pulling you in tight. “Hi.”
“I missed you.”
Seungcheol doesn’t think to question the sudden rush of familiarity after months of silence. Every fight in your long friendship ended this way; you both stew and stew until one day things snap back to normal. It’s how it’s always been.
“I see that you can’t even greet your best friend.” Jeonghan coughs from the side.
Seungcheol squeezes you tighter at the jab. It’s Jeonghan’s wedding but Seungcheol saw him last week when dropping the couple off at the airport to come here. He’s far more interested in dragging out his reunion with you as long as possible. “I’m in the middle of that actually.”
He scoffs in response, walking away. “Whatever, I see too much of you anyway.” 
There’s glasses of wine waiting when you break apart. Seungcheol keeps closeby, not that you seem eager to go anywhere. His staring is obvious but he doesn’t care. You’re really here and the cold shoulder he expected to find is nowhere to be found.
Another two hours of celebrating, filled with drunken toasts and more card games with Sofie’s family that only end with you digging into their pockets even deeper, fly by before the exhaustion of a day starting in one continent and ending in another catches up to him. You’re too busy arguing over if Jeonghan cheated in the last round to notice Seungcheol slipping away from the table and towards the door leading inside.
Sofie is in the kitchen just beyond, another bottle of wine sloshing in hand as she talks animatedly on the phone. “Okay, look. I am on vacation. I’m about to get married. I literally left notes for everything I'm not working on during my wedding week. Figure it out. Bye.”
She hangs up without response, tossing her phone on the counter before taking a swig straight from the bottle.
“Good?” Seungcheol asks.
“Oh, you know, just the usual. I leave and suddenly no one knows how to do their job.” Sofie rolls her eyes. “What’s up? Need another glass?”
She raises the same bottle and the thought of more wine nearly turns his stomach.  
Seungcheol brushes her off, moving to the sink and rinsing his glass with finality. “I think I’m gonna crash for the night.”
“Really?” she asks. “But the party just started!”
“For you maybe, some of us have been cramped on a plane all day.” He feels it. In his back and knees. The cramp in his neck from passing out halfway through and waking up bent at ninety degrees. And the hours he spent agonizing through emails with the inflight WiFi because even on vacation he can’t sit still for more than one minute. But now it’s a ticking time bomb before he curls up in a chair and passes out until morning.
Sofie snatches his glass before shooing him away from the sink and taking his place. “I forgot you’re an old man now.”
“You’re the same age as me?”
“Anyway,” she sings. “I know we promised you’d have your own room but—”
“That’s fine. I really don’t mind rooming with one of the guys.”
“Well… you and Y/N were the only ones not sharing and she said she wouldn’t mind for the weekend.”
“Huh?”
“I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal! Seokmin and Kwan agreed to share and room with Josh so things are pretty tight but I can see if we can switch things around and—”
“No, if she’s okay with it then it's fine.” Seungcheol says. “We just haven’t talked since, you know?”
Sofie seems to soften at that. “I know. But it looked like everything was fine outside.”
“Yeah,” Seungcheol sighs. “I missed her.” 
“I know she missed you too.”
“She said that?”
“Oh please, neither of you have to say anything, you’re both pathetic,” she says while pouring another glass. “But I think this weekend will be good for you guys! Like old times.”
Old times. Before the fight. Before you moved away.
“Yeah, just like old times… At least we aren’t sharing a bed, right?” He jokes. 
“Actually,” Sofie grimaces. 
The one solace Seungcheol is gifted is the bed is massive. Almost the entire room is dominated by the plush mattress, a dresser, and a chair in the corner. He considers sleeping in that instead for all of a minute before realizing you probably wouldn’t let him and the absolute torture it’ll do to his neck. 
At least the forced proximity won’t be awkward since you’ve silently agreed to leave the past behind you. He can’t imagine Sofie would consider this solution if you were still mad at him, even if it was her wedding week. The realization lightens the weight on his shoulders an ounce more.
Seungcheol throws his bag down at the foot of the bed. It’s no big deal; sharing a room with you. Childhood sleepovers had been the norm, a few nights in college you’d shared a clunky old twin bed when you both were too drunk to find your ways home separately. Your first apartment together, when you two had to share a mattress on the floor for the first weeks because all your money went into paying rent, flash in his head. Old times.
Thirty minutes later, freshly showered and in clean clothes, Seungcheol heads back downstairs for a glass of water before bed.
He remembers where the kitchen is after Sofie’s short tour, trapezing through the huge house easily. Behind different closed doors he catches glimpses of pre-sleep conversations: couples spitting harsh whispers to each other, a few cartoonish voices reading bedtime stories to an audience of childish giggles. But when he reaches the threshold of his destination Seungcheol stumbles into an entirely different atmosphere.
“You haven’t told him yet?”
“No. I didn’t feel like the kind of thing to say over text,” you whisper.
“Well you could have called him!”
“And say what? ‘Hey Cheol, I know we haven’t talked in months because we got into a huge fight about my boyfriend but Johnny and I–’”
Seungcheol strains his ears to hear the rest of your sentence but fails to decipher anything before Jeonghan’s voice cuts in. Whatever ‘it’ is, you seem keen on keeping it a secret.
“Just tell him.” Jeonghan says through a mouthful of something. “I’m sure he’ll be happy.”
His mind races with a million possibilities, all related to Johnny, all things you wouldn’t have told your best friend of over twenty years because of some stupid fight. Something you don’t know how to tell him over the phone, something you need to tell in person.
The realization strikes like lightning.
You and Johnny are engaged.
Thirst forgotten, Seungcheol turns back the way he came. He thinks through the new information as he stumbles up the stairs.
How could you not tell him? How could he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him? How long have you been hiding this? And why did Jeonghan and Sofie know before he did? Was everyone in on the secret and he was the odd man out?
You and Johnny weren’t even that serious when you moved away; or, that's what Seungcheol thought. In all honesty he fully believed it was some joke when you told him. A drunken practical joke taken too far but you didn’t laugh when he did. There was no punchline to share. The boxes were packed away and then the moving truck came and you left with it. 
Everything else hits him in the seclusion of the bedroom. Your shared room. He doesn’t even have the luxury of coming to terms with your latest surprise in private. 
Seungcheol isn’t happy. He is, but because you’re you, argument aside. The past few months are the longest you’ve ever gone without each other and seeing you again lifted a weight off his chest he’d come accustomed to in months of silence. 
It’s an easy decision. If Johnny makes you happy enough to tie your lives together then Seungcheol can bite his tongue. You’re his best friend and by default he’d never think anyone was good enough for you but if you loved Johnny, if you were this serious about him, then Seungcheol would support you.
Even if it meant there would always be a Johnny sized ravine between you.
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Seungcheol wakes far before the sun breaches the horizon. The room still washed in the shadows of early dawn grants him some peace to think over his own conflicts with the news, your quiet snores a backing track from across the bed.
On your side facing him, Seungcheol gets the first good look at you in what feels like forever. Even with the size of the bed barely a foot of space separates your bodies. You hand twisted in the hem of his shirt like even in your sleep you can’t stand to be apart more than necessary.
You look ridiculous; hair a mess and limbs splayed. But your face is soft in sleep, eyelashes fanned on your cheeks and lips in a pout. 
There’s an odd flutter in his stomach. He wasn't lying when he said he missed you. But now things are complicated. 
He hadn’t slept at all last night; mind constantly replaying the conversation he heard in the kitchen, formulating his reaction when you finally let him in on the ‘surprise.’
Perhaps under different circumstances he wouldn’t struggle with news. Seungcheol wants you to be happy. Johnny is the problem in the scenario. They never got along, barely spoke outside of the few times forced circumstances required them to. Seungcheol was polite. Johnny was polite. 
Seungcheol wanted to kill him and he’s certain Johnny felt the same.
Relationships naturally take priority over time but Johnny seemed to creep in and choke Seungcheol out of all the places he’d been firmly planted for years. Another reason he isn’t happy.
Monday night Bachelor? Canceled, because Johnny plays beer league softball with his friends and you started going to that.
No more sleepovers at Seungcheol’s after a night out because ‘it makes Johnny uncomfortable.’ Fair complaint. Seungcheol wouldn’t appreciate his girlfriend sleeping over at a guy's house after drinking if the roles were reversed. But Seungcheol isn’t some guy and you were his best friend before you were Johnny’s girlfriend.
Traditions at Christmas felt hollow without you. The first one you spent meeting Johnny’s family in Minnesota you texted Seungcheol the entire time about how cold it was, how they were a 5k on a holiday type family despite the fact there was three feet of snow outside. 
All small details that mean everything to Seungcheol, never meant as much to you. 
And that’s why he doesn’t like Johnny. Because he made Seungcheol realize that.
It’s not that you and Johnny didn’t work. Seungcheol just couldn’t wrap his head around why you wanted to overlook all the glaring differences to make it work.
But pointing that out left him with a cold shoulder lasting six months so he plans to keep his mouth shut.
You tried talking to him before bed but gave up when he pretended to be asleep. It took everything he had not to give in and talk into the early morning. Six months was more than enough ground to cover for you two to catch up; he was promoted, you had an entirely new life in another city that he wanted to hear all about. His insane neighbor from across the hall, who you both are sure sells drugs, is actually a preschool teacher (mysteries of the universe). And he knows you probably have kooky neighbors of your own in New York.
But, in all honesty, he didn’t want to hear stories with Johnny’s name attached. Wasn’t ready to hear you say you’re engaged. It’s one thing to know it. But the second the words leave your lips then it’s real. Then Johnny is here to stay and it's only a matter of time before you two are arguing again.
Especially when everything said months ago was still fresh in his mind. Words he’d stand by no matter what. But Seungcheol has figured out that there are conversations he’s allowed to have with you and ones that should never see the light of day if your friendship is to survive. Johnny is one, the other is a memory from college that remains vivid no matter how hard he tries to forget.
But this weekend wasn’t about you and him, it's about Sofie and Jeonghan. If Seungcheol can dive into focusing on them, maybe he’ll survive.
Today is the one day reserved for sightseeing before ‘the inevitably disorganized shit show of an Italian wedding’ as Sofie puts it. 
Seungcheol has already seen some of the big things thanks to his study abroad in undergrad: the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon. So for today, he'll stick by whatever you want to do. You’re the building nerd architect.
When he finally finds the willpower to roll away, carefully extracting your grip on him before ducking from the sheets, you stir enough to release a sleepy whine in protest before burying back under the blanket. 
It’s odd but he notices you’re not wearing a ring. Seungcheol looked closely if you took it off before bed but nothing stands out in the bathroom or on the dresser. He assumes you took it off to make the weekend about Sofie and Jeonghan rather than yourself. It’s something you would do. Or maybe it’s at the jeweler’s for repairs. Maybe Johnny had gaudy taste and bought a ring so flashy you refused to wear it. 
Seungcheol doesn’t know but it strikes him as strange.
The kitchen is already bustling with life even at such an early hour. Family and friends trickle in one by one, joining Seungcheol at the table with cups of coffee and munching on fruit and biscuits as their hangovers ebb. Quickly, the peace he preserved in the early quiet melts into loud laughter and a million buzzing conversations.
You melt into the chair beside him, eyes barely open as you snag his cup and scowl after finding it already drained.
“Coffee?” you mumble.
Seungcheol pushes his plate of unfinished fruit and a half finished pastry you way. “Sofie’s mom is brewing more. But it’s strong.”
“Oh trust me, I know,” you say around a mouthful of jam and dough. “I drank a full cup the first day I got here and felt like Sonic.”
“That’s how you know it’s good.”
“You’re insane.”
“What are your plans for today?”
“So there's this church, the Santa Maria Sopra della Minerva. It’s near the Pantheon!” you ramble, peeling another orange. “It’s just beautiful and it's got a statue by Michelangelo next to the altar and the design is incredible.”
Seungcheol can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm. A city filled with ancient buildings and history is right up your alley. 
He remembers how you pouted when he came back from his trip in college after yours to Venice was canceled due to ‘not enough student interest.’ The only thing that managed to quell your anger was all the pictures Seungcheol took with you in mind. Close ups of the tiniest details about ancient designs tour guides pointed out to disinterested business majors but he knew you’d care if you’d been there. If you were there then you’d probably be leading the tour yourself whether the guide liked it or not.
“Mind if I come with?” he asks over his fresh cup of coffee.
“Duh,” you roll your eyes with a smile. “I waited for you to get here to go.”
Sofie’s uncle, the one not under threat of murder by his wife, agrees to drive you both out. He drives at full speed from the second he hits the gas pedal. With the windows down. The breeze is as nice as a wind tunnel and cuts off everything Zio Berto tries to point out except for his screams at other drivers. 
On the other side of the back seat, you’re turning green. Seungcheol is glad the window is already down because if you get sick, he will too. And Sofie would refuse any payment for the cleaning fee, Seungcheol is morally opposed to ruining such a nice car with vomit.
The city whips past outside the windows, cobblestone streets slowly growing more crowded as the car edges closer to the center city. Berto finally slows down to avoid pedestrians and mopeds but only by a fraction. He doesn’t seem to share Seungcheol’s concern about body fluids clashing with the car design.
Finally, after what feels like a century, the car jerks to a stop. You don’t even pretend to be polite and exit immediately, hands on your knees while dry heaving for air.
“I’ll be around. Have fun!” Berto calls from the driver's seat. “Call me when you’re ready to head back.”
Seungcheol waves him off and when he turns back where you were standing, you’re already gone; circling the elephant obelisk in the center of the cobblestone courtyard.
“Isn’t it so cool?” You gush, snapping photos.
The exterior of the building is unassuming. Flat sandstone brick without much detail but you see the things that are important. In a few minutes you’ll be in tour guide mode, pointing out the smallest crack no one would see unless they already studied the church's history in depth.
“Soooo cool,” he jests. He appraises the statue with you, turning his head this way and that. 
You slap his shoulder, “Don’t be a jerk!”
“Okay, okay. Give me the tour.”
“It was built on the ruins of a temple of Isis.”
“Okay, and why the elephant?”
“The obelisk was taken from the Church of San Stefano del Cacco down that way,” you point. “It's originally from Sais in Egypt but got moved all the way here. The elephant was commissioned by the pope to display it based on a book that was popular at the time.”
“Interesting.” 
You point at the inscription on the plinth before continuing, “that’s from the book.”
Sapientis Aegypti insculptas obelisco figuras ab elephanto, belluarum fortissima, gestari quisquis hic vides, documentum intellege robustae mentis esse solidam sapientiam sustinere.
“Whoever you are, who sees here the figures of the Egyptian wise man carved on the obelisk carried by the elephant, the strongest of wild animals, understand the symbolism to be that a strong mind supports firm wisdom,” you translate. 
“I didn’t know you read latin.”
“I don’t. It’s in English on the other side,” you laugh. “But I do know, the guy who designed the statue made it look like it's farting because the pope told him to change the design from what he originally wanted.”
“Really?”
“Yep. He said having it stand on four legs was dangerous so the sculptor added the saddle and a cube at the base, but he also made its butt face the convent so the friars would have to see its ass every time they came out.”
“Wow.”
Seungcheol circles the statue and sure enough the tail is angled to look like it's blowing wind.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a lie but I’d like to think people were that petty hundreds of years ago. Now all people do is subtweet and post vague Instagram stories. I want someone to hate me so much they design an entire statue just to minorly inconvenience me each morning.”
You’re fully of facts Seungcheol would never know. It’s one of the best parts of visiting places with you. It’s not just some building or some random statue. You give the architecture a new life.
Seungcheol’s mind flashes back to the first time he accompanied you and Johnny to a monument back home. In the five minutes you’d been there, he realized Johnny truly did not care about your interests.
The look on your face that day told him you realized Johnny didn’t care either.
It’s the same pact everyone that moves to D.C. makes to visit all the museums and monuments and landmarks. Good intentions with zero realistic goals. Except you’re stubborn and the drive to say you did something means Seungcheol has tagged along to thirty out of the one hundred and fifteen on your list. Johnny missed most either from work trips or some other excuse and the one Seungcheol missed had been the only one Johnny came to because of the flu.
Safe to say the first time visiting together was a shit show. Johnny didn’t pretend to evaluate the ‘important’ parts, didn’t ask questions or bother reading the placards detailing events of significance, raced through the entire thing to leave you and Seungcheol behind. It’s not like you or Seungcheol were overwhelmed with beauty and needed hours but Johnny finished his round after less than thirty minutes and told you to text him when you were done. 
So Seungcheol did the only thing he could to get back at Johnny without upsetting you: walked as slow as possible, pointing out things he knew you’d know more about, and dragging things out so Johnny was stuck waiting in the frigid winter wind outside to suffer.
You knew what he was doing, obvious from the way you hook your arm through his and give an affection squeeze. Your smile didn’t reach your eyes but you both pushed through.
Thank whatever powers be that Johnny wasn’t here now.
“See the windows?” you ask, pointing to the three different sized circular windows hanging over the main doorways. 
“Yeah,” he nods.
“Well you can’t tell from here but they’re rose tinted.”
Seungcheol tries to see what you’re talking about but the windows are dark and covered in some kind of lacquer that makes them look gray and dusty rather than pink.
“And why is that important, Professor Y/L/N?”
“Because it’s the only medieval church in Rome like that!” 
You continue rambling off facts, talking a mile a minute as your point at different things and walk Seungcheol around the exterior. A few other people's ears perk up as you go on about how the details had been done over and over; first Romanesque, then Gothic then, some guy named Carlo Maderno added Baroque designs inside, and friars who put in stained glass windows.
By the time you take a breath, the crowd has taken a closer interest in the windows and the elephant statue due to your brief history. A few look at the flood plaques which are some of the best preserved records the city has.
Seungcheol hangs onto every word. He doesn’t care about the old church, it’s an interesting bit of history sure but he could be outside any church in Rome and have the same reaction. He cares about the church because you care. And your passion about old windows and flood markers make it the most interesting place in the world right now.
“Go stand on the steps so I can take your picture,” you demand.
“Do I have to?” Seungcheol jokingly complains.
“Just go.”
Seungcheol poses as you direct, flashing a few silly poses you laugh at. He manages to wrangle you into taking a few photos as well. Ones that will probably be sent to your mom and never see the light of day other than her Facebook. Your Instagram is reserved for, in order: buildings, animals, food, and the rare picture of you with friends at some sort of occasion (wedding, graduation, the time Jeonghan broke his leg drunk on a city scooter and ended up in the ER). 
You’re in the middle of pretending to hold the Leaning Tower of Pisa when someone approaches Seungcheol.
“Would you like us to take your photo?” an elderly woman asks. She is a quintessential tourist: fanny pack, camera around her neck, sun burnt around the ears. A man in a matching shirt approaches with her, donning the same gear and pink tinge. Seungcheol recognizes them from a few minutes prior when you gave your lecture about elephant butts and petty sculptors.
“Sure, thank you.”
He hands over his phone and joins you on the steps. You both pose like normal adults, smiles plastered on your face while Seungcheol gives you bunny ears and you pull his hair.
“Beautiful couple!”
“Oh, we’re not…” You both object.
“We’re on our second honeymoon.” The man croons at his wife, chuffed when she rolls her eyes and focuses on the camera screen. “You two?”
“We’re here for a wedding.”
“Wow! Married in Rome,” the wife gasps. “How romantic.”
It isn’t the first time you two have been mistaken for a couple. Anytime you’re with him or Jeonghan someone assumes you’re dating. Occasionally, you’d play it up, make an entire story about how you met, how long you’ve been together, biting your tongues the entire time as each detail is more ludicrous than the last.
Jeonghan takes the cake as the most ridiculous. Two tornado chasers that ran into each other ten years ago and never let go. Him and Seungcheol, not you. Which really threw the waitress off. Never mind the fact you all were sophomores in college, high as kites and stuffing yourselves full of hashbrowns in a greasy spoon diner for Seungcheol’s birthday.
“Did you two meet here?” the husband asks.
“Oh no, we actually met in a competitive bowling league,” you fib, wrapping your arm through Seungcheol’s.
What the hell?
“Romantic!” The wife belts like she actually believes nothing could inspire love like sharing shoes with countless strangers and cheap beer.
Seungcheol would take the piss under any other circumstances. Except this time you’re actually engaged and the last time you two pretend to be a couple was when you fake proposed to him in a fancy restaurant to score free champagne and dessert to celebrate the end of law school.
“Would you mind taking a few of us?” the man asks.
You snap a few pictures on the wife’s phone and after more coos of ‘romantic!’ and a few thank yous they melt into the crowd.
“Alright, let's go inside.”
“Lead the way.” Seungcheol feels more awkward than before, cheeks red but not from the sun beating down
Upon entering the church, he discovers the inside is much more interesting than the outside. Holy water stoups are held up by marble. Two statues flank the entrance. There’s more things to see than Seungcheol’s brain can handle but he follows behind you, mind lingering on the scene outside.
“‘My husband’?” Seungcheol asks.
“What? We won’t see them again. Who cares?”
Probably your own fiancé but just as Seungcheol opens his mouth a priest silences him with a sharp, “SHH!”
Passing through a high stone archway, you enter the nave. The ceiling, cobalt and gold with motifs of  biblical figures and cherubs, rises high above. 
“Look!” you whisper. “Isn’t it cool?”
Your point at a marble Jesus wearing a bronze loin cloth.
Cool isn’t the word he’d choose but he goes with it.
“Michelangelo started it but two other people had to finish it for him.”
“Oh.”
“But people still call it Michelangelo’s statue because it’s more impressive. Besides, he did most of it before his apprentice took over.”
He observes the paintings and statues, the stone work that bulges from the walls like they’re trying to come alive and escape their immortal capture. There’s even a tomb and shrine with incredible detail. 
It takes two hours to see everything and another thirty minutes to make your way out of the church because you both keep catching missed signs or there's some tiny piece of the ceiling with an odd detail.
He missed this.
Outside, you open your phone and look at the message from Sofie. She made the recommendation to come down here and gave an extensive list of everything else to be done in the area. There’s so many options it would take at least a week to see half of them.
“This hotel has a rooftop restaurant that’s supposed to have a good view of St. Peters,” you say.
The restaurant would have a great view of the city, if it wasn’t shut down for renovations. The staff don’t even let you near the elevator before you’re both swept outside and back on the street.
“Well…” Seungcheol starts.
“Should we call Berto?”
He doesn’t want to. Partially because Berto’s driving might kill him and also because he doesn’t want to end his time with you just yet. One of the things he missed about you living in the same city was weekends in museums for hours. Now that he has it again, he hesitates to cut the time short.
“Wait, I think we’re near one of the parks we visited when I came in college.”
“Oh my god,” you gasp sarcastically. “Did you study abroad? I never knew!”
“Shut up.”
Seungcheol pulls out his phone and dials Berto’s number. “Hey, Berto. No, we're good, everything is fine. But I was wondering how far away is Villa Borghese from us? Oh really? Would you be able to come drop us off? Awesome. Thanks man.”
“Well?”
“He’ll be here in five.”
Five minutes turns into fifteen and in that time Seungcheol burns out. Jetlag and the dull thrums of city streets make him sleepy. You sit in front of him on a bench outside the church. He thought he was better at hiding it but he’s pretty sure if he sits down, he’ll fall asleep.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask once Berto arrives. “We can go back to the house if you want.”
There’s an unofficial official itinerary for today.
Anything before four is fair game. After that there is a welcome cocktail party at a fancy restaurant in the city one of the De Luca’s family friends own.
If Seungcheol doesn’t go home now then it’ll be a close call to nap and shower in time. Not that Sofie is exceptionally punctual about things like that but Seungcheol is.
“I don’t want you not to see stuff just because I’m tired.”
“Cheol, I’ve been here all week with Sofie and Han. I promise this was the only thing left on my list of stuff to do. Anything else would have been a bonus.”
“Only if you're sure.”
“We can always come back again. I’m pretty sure Sofie’s mom is decorating a room for me.”
Yeah, because most men are fine with their fiancée taking international trips with another man. Not that you’d listen or Johnny has the balls to say something about it. But Seungcheol knows the chances of coming back here together, like this, are slim to nonexistent.
“Alright. But you can’t bring it up in an argument.”
“I can and I will.” The corner of you mouth twitches as your head shakes before opening the back seat for him. “Now get in the car, old-timer.” 
Seungcheol falls asleep on your shoulder in a blink. Berto is quiet (or the open windows drown him out enough that Seungcheol can pretend) and the heat of your body next to his lulls his heart. It’s not a peaceful rest and his neck is killing him by the time Berto pulls into the driveway, but it’s nice.
Seungcheol beelines for the bathroom while you slip into the kitchen. Something about centerpieces or napkins or tablecloths; he isn’t really sure but Sofie’s mom says it's urgent so he goes upstairs alone, showers in record time, and dives under the covers.
His dreams are filled with blue and gold elephants, He wakes to the sound of your voice blended with the sound of water.
You’re singing. More so humming some off key melody that bounces off the shower tiles and echoes straight into his brain. It drags him in that liminal space between waking and dreaming where anything is possible. Maybe he’s still dreaming. Of you and him, back when you shared an apartment and things weren’t so complicated. When there weren’t secrets and omissions and he didn’t have to bite his tongue.
His eyes stay closed, refusing to budge until the last minute.
The shower turns off but the humming continues, louder now that you’re out of the bathroom and collecting your things.
You must think Seungcheol is still asleep because when his eyes slit open, only enough to decipher your hazy silhouette, you’re in nothing but a towel. A very very tiny towel that hides nothing but the necessary bits and even then only barely. 
He can’t wake up now. Not when you bend over to look in your suitcase for Seungcheol closed his eyes just in time. But it doesn’t stop his brain from latching on to every sound in the quiet of the room; the humming tickling across your lips, the wet thump! of your towel on the ground. Oh god, now you’re not even wearing a towel. 
Seungcheol won’t be that friend. He never has. Or has always tried not to be. But teenage hormones make a young boy’s brain untamable so it’d be a lie to say he’s never thought of you like that. But despite his feelings, Seungcheol has made sure they never became a factor in your friendship.
Even though there is a peace of his soul that will always belong to you.
So he pretends to be asleep, forcibly controlling his breathing while you shuffle around the room none the wiser to his rising predicament.
Finally, you disappear back into the bathroom to change and Seungcheol’s lungs stretch with air until they burn.
You look pretty. Objectively. You glow in the late afternoon sun pouring in from the window, a ditsy floral print dress of orange and cream that hugging your figure; delicate collar bones on display under the flimsy straps and the column of your neck bare save for the necklace you’ve worn everyday since your parents bought it for your sixteenth birthday.
“C’mon sleepy head,” you whisper.
Seungcheol is thrilled his gawking is easily disguised as jetlag.
He changes in the bathroom. Taking a moment to grip the sink, his reflection stares back in the mirror. It’s the exhaustion and dehydration making his brain muddle. Nothing to do with you or him.
It’s fine. Everything is perfectly fine.
The downstairs foyer is in complete chaos but Sofie commands the room like she always does from the top of the stairway.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Are you ready?” She yells like a WWE announcer.
Cheers rise up from the gaggle of adults. Cousins, friends, parents, aunts and uncles. Most of them Seungcheol has never seen before and is pretty sure neither have Jeonghan or Sofie but it’s fine. The more the merrier.
Except when different cars end up filled to the brim and you end up sitting on Seungcheol’s lap instead of a seat.
His heart leaps with every bump, yo
ur hair flying into his face and leaving the sweet smell of perfume to flood his senses. Seungcheol can’t even think about that because Sofie’s Zia Linda puts her husband's driving to shame.
At some point you nearly fly out the open window–Why does no one believe in keeping the windows up?– and Seungcheol is forced to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you from ending up a part of the cobblestone road.
“Sorry,” you say. The squeeze at his arm tells him your thankful at least something is stopping you from becoming roadkill.
“It’s fine.”
If you notice his strained breath, you don’t say anything.
The rooftop restaurant is gigantic but with everyone it feels small and crowded. Below, all of Rome spreads out. Lights twinkle in the distance and the moon is heavy overhead, ready for a night of revelry. It’s a welcome party so things are casual, finger foods and drinks flow heavily while everyone mingles.
Sofie and Jeonghan laugh at their own table, holding court with family and friends that flood in and out with congratulations. They’re good at it. Jeonghan ventures on the more introverted side but Sofie could have a meaningful conversation with a pile of rocks. 
You're off at another table, talking with Soonyoung and Seungkwan, a second glass of wine in hand. Laughter rings out and he feels drawn to it like a siren call. It was foolish to worry that the scar from Johnny wouldn’t heal over eventually. All you two needed was time.
Seungcheol barely leaves your side during the party. You dance and drink and dance some more until you’re both left in a heap at the same table by the dance floor. Soonyoung and Seokmin provide ample distraction, taking to the floor to do…something Seungcheol hesitates to call dancing because it resembles a child's idea of a circus. 
Dancing, food, and wine leave him feeling loose and sleepy. You’re not much better, head on his shoulder and hand tangled with his across your knees.
“Cheol?”
“Yeah?”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
His shirt is unbuttoned, sleeves rolled high. In the back of the car on the ride home, you trace the muscle of his forearms draped over your waist until it lulls him to sleep.
Back at the house, you, Sofie, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol throw out sleepy goodnights and I love you’s before retreating to your separate corners of the house. Jeonghan is technically staying in a room in the same wing as you two (Sofie’s house is big enough to have an east and west wing which still shocks him). Something about family tradition and bad luck for the wedding but Jeonghan follows his fiancée like a shadow to her room at the opposite end of the house without theatrics.
And then there’s just you two.
You lean on each other the entire walk up, like you need the other support or you’ll crumble to the floor and sleep there. Honestly, it’s not a bad idea. Seungcheol has slept in worse places.
The stairs present their own challenges. You go first, Seungcheol right behind in case you fall backwards which has happened enough times that it’s become a habit to walk this way when alcohol is involved. But it doesn’t solve the issue of you tripping up.
Which you do with an effortless lack of grace on the last step.
“Oh, shit!” you giggle.
Seungcheol laughs so hard his knees buckle and he flops on the floor next to you like a dying fish.
“Shhh!” you slur, finger pressed to his lips. “People are sleeping.”
But you're cackling now and he can’t breathe from the painful quaking laughter rooting in his belly. He’s on his back, and you prop up on your arm to loom over him. Twin smiles breaking your faces, eyes watering with drunken mirth.
You go silent first, tracing his features silently like they must be committed to memory. Seungcheol does the same. You’re exactly the same as the day you left. Except for the vacation glow from being here for the past week. He recognizes all the parts of you he’s known for a lifetime. The silver scar on your chin from learning to ride a bike and crashing into a tree. The color of your eyes. The blush of your mouth.
The finger pressed to his lips traces along the plump flesh, then his chin, then it circles the back of his head and you’re ducking down.
Alarms go off in Seungcheol’s head screaming: 
DANGER! DANGER! THIS IS NOT WHAT FRIENDS DO! DANGER!
“Wow, it’s late,” he laughs horsley as he rolls away and to his feet. 
You jump away, dazed for a second before laughing as well. “Yeah, let’s um…let’s go to bed.”
He can’t quite read your expression. Several  emotions swirl across your face but Seungcheol can barely look at you without feeling his face heat so he doesn’t linger. 
Seungcheol takes the bathroom after you finish, rushing through his night time routine in sober silence. 
You're drunk. That’s the only reason you’re trying to kiss him. Or he had something on his mouth and you can’t find the words to tell him. It was a mistake. A momentary lapse of judgment that didn’t mean anything.
It wasn’t even a fraction of an almost kiss. Your noses barely touched, it doesn’t count.
When he comes back into the room, you’re curled up on the bed in your pajamas asleep.
Seungcheol circles to the other side, slipping under the covers and getting comfortable. The room feels smaller after what just happened. But it wasn’t a big deal. Nothing happened. You both were drunk and missed each other. You never would have kissed him.
Despite the fact the first, and only, time you two kissed was in very similar circumstances.
Rolling over, you find him and cuddle into his chest. Seungcheol opens his arms for you on instinct. 
“Did you have fun today?” you ask into his collarbone. The vibration of your voice tickles but it’s dulled from Seungcheol’s heart thudding wildly.
“Yeah.”
His hand smooths the back of your hair, down your back. You readjust, throwing a leg over his own and pulling him in tight.
“Good,” you say around a yawn. “Me too.”
Seungcheol tamps down the piece of him that wants to indulge in this. Just holding you, pretending things outside the door don’t exist and it’s just you and him and no one else. 
But he can’t do that.
“You know,” he starts. “I’m happy for you no matter what, right? You and Johnny…I’m happy for you.”
Seungcheol waits for a response that will never come because you’re out cold, snoring against his chest.
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You’re still asleep when Seungcheol wakes around noon. Sometime in the night you shifted to the far side of the bed, taking the blanket with you. He doesn’t try to wake you, still confused at exactly what happened last night.
Seungcheol isn’t naive. He knows what women look like when they want to be kissed, when they're thinking about how his mouth will feel against theirs. Usually he revels in it; loves the flare to his ego, the chance to tease before giving in.
But to see the expression on your face sent him into a panic. He’s seen it once before, indulged in it, and it ruined his life for the better part of college. Lips parted, eyes glassy as you stared. All the telltale signs were there: the lift of your chin, hands twisted in his shirt, eyes drooped low.
And the worst part was you did all that despite having a fiance waiting back home none the wiser. Even if Seungcheol couldn’t stand Johnny, he’d never do that. Never allow you to do that. 
Even if he wanted nothing more than to feel your lips on his.
He heads as far away as he can. Turns out it’s down stairs for breakfast. Sofie is at the kitchen table, typing on her laptop.
“Morning,” Seungcheol croaks.
“You look like shit. Wild night?”
“Just some old timers thinking they’re twenty one again.”
“What assholes.” She laughs. “How's Y/N?”
Seungcheol freezes like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Sofie couldn’t know what almost but certainly didn’t happen in the hallway last night. “She’ll probably need an exorcism but she’ll survive.”
“By the way, I meant to give her this last night but everything was crazy. Can you pass it off? Jeonghan and I have to take my grandma to lunch and she’s already called twice sooooo…”
“Yeah, go. Have fun.”
Sofie is up and out before he can blink, a tiny piece of cardstock left in her place.
Kira Long
Artisan Jeweler
Her social media and number are at the bottom but Seungcheol doesn’t need more information.
He hides around the villa most of the day. Catching up with the guys around the pool, feigning fatigue when you come out to join. The gardens are big enough for him to disappear into for a few hours before he needs to go and get ready.
Unfortunately, that also means you are getting ready. 
A leg.
That’s all Seungcheol sees when he opens the door.
Your leg specifically, propped on the dresser while you apply lotion in nothing but that damn skimpy towel designed to torture him.
“AH!” you shriek, shocked by his sudden entrance. 
“I’m sorry!” he shouts.
The fabric unravels around your chest and suddenly you're naked and Seungcheol is not looking. 
“What the fuck? Have you ever heard of knocking?”
He’s not.
“Why are you naked?”
The ceiling is very interesting. 
“Because I wanted to scare you.” you scream sarcastically. The door to the hallway is still open. Seungcheol either stays in with you or goes back out because it can’t stay open much longer. He makes the fatal mistake of locking himself inside with you. “Because I thought you’d knock, you fucker! Jesus fucking Christ, turn around.”
Seungcheol saw you naked. 
He hides in the bathroom like a wimp until it’s time to leave.
It’s a short walk to the church down the street for the rehearsal ceremony. It’s all a blur given the million and one things flying through his brain; most of them you. You in your towel. The fact you’re engaged. You looking at him like you’re dying to be kissed. The fact you’re engaged. How everyone has assumed you’re a couple this entire weekend and you’ve played along. The fact you are engaged to a man that isn’t him and Seungcheol can’t help but feel bitter about it for a completely different reason than he ever thought he would be. 
Luckily, the ceremony is only planned to last less than an hour. He knows he isn’t subtle but he tries to grin and bear it for his friends. He can see the same sentiment in you. Your smile doesn’t quite fit but Seungcheol can’t think about what it could be about. 
“Do you take this man…”
Was it his rejection? It wouldn’t make sense if it was. You’re his best friend but not even that dictates cheating. You weren’t the type; in your own words cheating was more pathetic than ghosting someone as a form of break up. 
He doesn’t get it.
“I always love you even though you sleep like a princess, my love,” Sofie gushes.
“And I’ll forgive you for snoring like an old man, love of my life.” Jeonghan fires back.
They’re saving their real vows, the one Seungcheol helped Jeonghan with, for the ceremony. Even with all the confusion swirling in his head, he can’t wait for Sofie to hear what Jeonghan has in store.
The priest is less than impressed but moves forward like he can’t wait to have them out of his congregation as fast as possible.
“Okay, and you two leave and the wedding party follows…”
Seungcheol offers his arm to the Maid of Honor, Maria, guiding her back down the aisle where Jeonghan and Sofie bicker. You follow with Seokmin, break away the second it's polite with some excuse about needing the bathroom before you dissolve into the crowd.
The dinner is back at the house. The outside is lined with chairs crowded around tables covered in exploding bouquets and candles. Family members and friends weave to and fro, drinks and food flowing heavily.
You’re talking to Seokmin in the corner of the courtyard, a glass of wine already in your hand as you laugh along to whatever the other man said. 
“So Sofie said you’re a lawyer?” Maria asks. 
“Yeah, that’s how we became friends. I actually was the one who introduced her and Jeonghan.”
“Wow, so you’re a lawyer and a matchmaker.” 
Seungcheol laughs at the compliment. Introducing Sofie and Jeonghan had been a complete accident with unintended consequences. “I wouldn’t say that. I thought Sofie would strangle him the first time they met.”
“Oh, I heard all about that. When Sofie told me they started dating I thought she must’ve meant a different Jeonghan.”
Maria makes good company through the first rounds of drinks before dinner is served. She takes his focus away from you, how your leg presses against his under the table. She grew up down the road, went to school with Sofie all the way through undergrad. Her boyfriend, Jihoon, is a surgeon back in Seattle while she works in marketing. Unfortunately getting time off for a second year resident verges on impossible so he couldn’t come to the wedding.
“You two are so cute together, how long have you been dating?” Maria asks before taking a swig of her drink.
“Oh we’re not together,” Seungcheol corrects swiftly.
You give a tense nod of agreement. 
“Really?”
“Yep. We grew up together. She’s like my sister.” 
He sounds like an asshole. The words are bile but there can be no room for incorrect interpretations. This weekend had been nothing but confusing so far. Seungcheol needs to set himself straight on where he stands with you.
“Oh,” Maria nods. “Okay. So Y/N, are you dating anyone?”
“Actually I—”
Your response fizzles out because Jeonghan’s dad rises from his seat for a speech.
“I want to take a moment to express my deepest appreciation to everyone here this weekend to celebrate Sofie and Jeonghan. I remember the first time he told us about her, how happy he was and thought ‘oh this poor girl doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into’.” There’s a smatter of laughter throughout the room. Sofie leans into Jeonghan’s shoulder and he places a kiss on her temple. “But then I met Sofie and I can say, without a doubt, there are very few people more perfect for each other than those two. Sofie, welcome to our family.”
Dinner passes, course after course and more wine until Seungcheol physically can’t have any more. You and Maria hit it off, rambling about Jihoon’s two cats and the abandoned kitten that hangs out around his work he’s trying to bribe into coming home. You barely look at him during the conversation but he prefers it.
Dessert comes with coffee and then everyone dissolves. Some stay around the tables to chat and drink and laugh, others help clean up. But Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and the groom's party head for the back gardens, Seungkwan already queueing up the song for one last practice.
It’s tradition, in southern Italy at least, for the groom to serenade his bride-to-be the night before their wedding. Seungcheol couldn’t believe Jeonghan was planning to go through with such tradition but he’s seen the man do more for Sofie than he thought he was capable of so it shouldn’t come as a shock.
The warm summer air does good for his mood, as does laughing with the guys when Soonyoung and Seungkwan get into a wrestling match after debating if they step-shuffle for three or four counts. But they all agree with four because it’s easier to remember.
The top floor balcony at the front of the house turns out to be Sofie’s room. The light floods out of the open doors, and two sets of giggles pour down to where they stand.
Jeonghan cups his hands around his mouth and calls, “Juliet, Juliet! Let down your hair!” 
“That’s not the saying.” Seungcheol corrects. 
“Shut up, I’m talking to my wife.”
“That’s not the saying!” Sofie laughs from above. 
You and Sofie peek over the side of the iron terrace, grins already splitting your faces. You knew what was happening. It’s why you whisked Sofie away with whatever distraction you could think of while the men gathered outside for a quick last minute dry run. Something about broken heels and needing to borrow a pair of shoes.
“Sofie Cosima De Luca, you are the love of my life.” Jeonghan yells. He’s drunk on love (and a lot of champagne). “I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow. I just hope after this you still want to marry me. Hit it!”
The obscenely large speaker Seungcheol carried out starts humming the instrumental to Sofie and Jeonghan’s song. The very one Jeonghan drunkenly serenaded her with in a dingy bar, back when she didn’t believe he could handle a serious relationship and he was hopelessly wrapped around her finger.
“I’ve got sunshineeeeeeee on a cloudy day…” Jeonghan croons.
“Oh my god,” Sofie cackles.
Everyone else joins in, harmonizing in the back along with the choreo Seungkwan and Soonyoung came up with. A simple side step with occasional jazz hands (much to Soonyoung’s tipsy dismay). “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way?” 
“MY GIRL,” Jeonghan belts his line, smiling dumbly.
You’re watching the shenanigans unfold, smiling as well. But while you're looking at everyone else, the only person Seungcheol can look at is you; the way your eyes gleam in the moonlight, your chin tipping back to laugh when Jeonghan’s voice cracks. You’re breathtaking. For a brief moment, barely a passing thought in the roaring river of his brain focused on his cue to sing and side step when needed, Seungcheol imagines what it would be like if you two were the only ones around.
Chalking it up to the moment, Seungcheol thinks about anything else as they finish the performance.
The music dwindles away and all that's left is Jeonghan staring up at his future wife as the rest of the group takes exaggerated bows. Other guest peek from windows or the edge of the drive way, cheering loudly.
“Bravi! Bravissimi!” Sofie cries as you both clap. “Can I make a request?”
Jeonghan nods like an eager puppy in response.
“Sing the Thong Song!” you both request through giggles.
“That's for after the wedding.” Jeonghan winks.
Time for Seungcheol to do his best man duties and prevent Jeonghan from making a complete ass of himself. "Alright Casanova, let’s go.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jeonghan calls over his shoulder, fighting against everyone ushering him away.
“Don’t be late!” Sofie demands.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
After returning Jeonghan to his room for the night, Seungcheol heads back to his completely unprepared to see you again. Too many feelings swirl in his head. Feelings he thought he finally left back in college.
He remembers only a few key events of his early childhood. When he lost his first tooth, when he broke his arm for the first time, and his soccer game at four years old when Jeonghan and he rubbed dirt in each other's faces and rolled in the grass instead of playing. But other than that, his life has been distinctly divided into two parts: before you, and after you. He remembers when you marched into the first day of second grade with a sparkly blue bookbag much too big for your little body. You went to the front of the class, introduced yourself loud and proud, and then looked around the room like you were daring anyone to say something back. 
And like any other childhood friendship is made, you sat at Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s table and asked if they wanted to be your friend. Without even considering the options, they both agreed. From then on out you’d always been Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and YN. Friends in elementary school, all through middle school, and even into the far reaches of highschool when Seungcheol played sports all year while you and Jeonghan did theater. It never occurred to any of you to be apart. Until Jeonghan stayed home to attend university in your hometown. And then it was Seungcheol and YN. Jeonghan came to visit when he could and vice versa. But at university it was you two against the world.
The first time Seungcheol realized he liked you was in third grade after you dumped chocolate milk on Jeonghan’s head because he put a bug in your lunchbox. He married you on the playground and made mud pies to celebrate. And then in high school when Seungcheol realized you weren’t just a girl but a pretty girl and the hormones of his teenage body latched onto that fact and plagued his dreams with the information. 
And he never did anything about that crush because he knew it wasn’t worth losing you to act on those silly notions. They passed just like he thought, melted away as time went on and you both dated other people. 
But that night freshman year of college…
It doesn’t matter. 
Because you have a fiancé and Seungcheol is happy for you.
The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom as Seungcheol enters your shared room. At least it delays the inevitable awkwardness. 
Or he thought it would.
“Hey, Cheol?” you call from the door.
“Yeah?”
“I forgot my clothes. Can you bring them to me?”
“Ugh, yeah.” Seungcheol scrambles for the pile of clean pajamas at the corner of the bed, snatching them up and stepping closer to the door that separates you. “Here.”
Mind caught on other things – like not remember that he caught a glimpse of you make last night, barely a second, no real detail except creamy skin and details his brained filled in on its own accord to his own chagrin – Seungcheol trips over his own feet and slams into the piece of wood head first.
The only thing stopping the door from flying straight into the wall is you.
“Shit!” you exclaim following a ricocheting ‘thump.’ “What the fuck, Cheol?”
Clutching his forehead, Seungcheol is oblivious to the tangle of limbs you’ve both collapsed into. 
“Fuck, sorry.” He blinks against the stark brightness of the overhead light. You’re clutching at your face, hands cupped around your nose and eyes filled with tears. “Here let me see.”
Your eyes crack open enough to glare at him, narrow and rimmed red. As if he didn’t feel awful enough.
Without a second thought, he strokes across the curve of your knee soothingly. “I won’t touch it, I just wanna make sure it isn’t broken.”
A hand shakenly falls away to unveil your perfectly fine nose. Seungcheol tips your chin up, moving in for a closer look just in case. But everything is fine. You’re not even bleeding, just a runny nose that definitely hurts worse than it looks. 
The initial rush of panic ebbs only to be replaced with awareness. Seungcheol is kneeling between your legs, your towel is definitely too short, and the beads of water caught on your collarbone are down right taunting him. He needs to get away.
Now.
“Oh my god,” he gasps, moving back.
Your face morphs into horror at his tone. “What?”
“You’ve got a huge bat in the cave.” Seungcheol rises to his feet, offering you a hand up while ignoring the way your chest struggles against the tie of the towel as you come to your feet as well.
“Fuck you,” you laugh, pushing him away. “Give me my clothes and get the fuck out.”
Seungcheol does just that. As the lock latches back he’s left alone with nothing but thoughts of you.
He remembers. That night you two have never spoken about. And probably would never discuss even under the threat of life and limb. A drunk kiss, in the stuffy bar that didn’t care if your IDs were fake as long as you had money.
Seungcheol remembers the way you felt in his lap, the taste of your mouth, the breathy whine against his lips when he first pulled away from the kiss. Maybe that last detail was a hallucination but it felt real. The heat of your body haunted Seungcheol for the week after it happened. 
Not even Jeonghan knew about it. 
And he’d rather die than open that can of worms. The first time Seungcheol had a crush on you in high school, he swallowed those feelings and never let them see the light of day. Because you’re his best friend, his longest friend, and if it was between the risk of losing you from his feelings (that he was certain would fade eventually despite the fact they never have) or keeping you in his life, then he’d stay silent if it killed him.
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It’s your turn to disappear the next morning. You’re side of the bed is long cooled by the time Seungcheol’s alarm goes off, a piece of him gone with it. 
His dreams hadn’t helped. A faceless woman, not even sounds or sights or tangible things he could identify. But he knows the feeling. That alluring warmth of a body firm against his own, the kind that leaves him aching when he wants up. Seungcheol knows it's you. It’s the same images that have plagued his subconscious since adolescence when he’d wake up to messy boxers and the inability to look you in the face for days after.
Feelings he’s long suppressed came out last night. Seeing you in the window, in the bathroom, it’s all too much. And now it chases him into sleep; the one place he thought he might have peace.
Luckily your absence means there's no awkward explanation of why he’s hard. The trip to the bathroom is more of dejected desperation than eager need. Seungcheol hops into the shower and takes care of it, careful to keep his thought as abstract as possible or risk you popping up in his fantasy. Dreaming about you is damning enough. He doesn’t need to add to the guilt weighing on his conscience.
The rhythm of the water lulls his brain into a cycle. He can’t do this. He can’t go another minute 
He can’t even survive Jeonghan’s wedding. How he will sit through yours with a grin will be a true test of his acting ability.
But that is future Seungcheol’s problem. Right now he needs to get through today and then tomorrow and after that he’ll be on a plane back home where he can ruminate in the isolated confines of his apartment. 
He just needs to focus on one thing at a time. 
Right now, it’s getting downstairs in the next ten minutes or risk losing tee time with Jeonghan and the other groomsmen. 
There’s only two people he’d ever turn to in a time like this, except he can’t talk to either of them because one is the problem and the other is getting married in a few hours. The last thing Jeonghan needs is to hear about an issue between his two best friends.
Which is why he’s the first to pick up Seungcheol’s mood. 
“You look like shit,” Jeonghan greets. 
The other mill about the kitchen, snagging leftover pastries and fruit. Usually Seungcheol is the first to show up, not the last. But Soonyoung still seems to be missing.
“Thanks.” 
“Rough night?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Well if you’re tired you can always join the girls at the spa.” Jeonghan offers. “Sofie said they’re doing mud baths.”
The wedding isn’t until this afternoon leaving the entire morning free. So the boys play golf while the girls go soak in mud.
“That sounds…horrible.”
“I know,” Jeonghan nods. “Alright gentlemen, let's head out.”
Seungcheol eats shit the entire morning. He usually scores around seventy five but he’s destined to break well over a hundred today and even Jeonghan pretends he doesn’t notice. 
“Do you ever think about why nothing happened between you and Y/N?” Jeonghan asks right as Seungcheol prepares to swing.
Kicking a man when he’s down is more of a guideline for his best friend rather than something to avoid.
Seungcheol’s shot flies wide, straight into a fairway bunker a good thirty yards behind everyone else’s ball. He watches for another solid minute, deflating.  “No.” 
“If you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable.” Jeonghan chides, setting up his own tee.
“I’m not lying.”
“Humor me. It’s my wedding day and I’m trying not to freak out.” 
“You’re freaked out?” 
“Dude, of course I’m freaked out. We’ve never gone more than a few hours without talking since we started dating and I haven’t seen her since last night. So just let me focus on something else,” Jeonghan sighs.
Seungcheol thinks about his next words wisely. Jeonghan can smell bullshit a thousand miles away, and playing mind games right now feels a little unfair. “I don’t wonder why nothing happened anymore.” 
“Lying again but whatever.”  Jeonghan grabs for his drive and lines up the shot.
“Why are you asking?” 
“I don’t know. Everyone thought you two would end up together eventually and then you didn’t. I’ve got a lot of people asking and I wanted an official response because you’re not exactly subtle and she isn’t stupid.”
Jeonghan’s shot lands square on the first cut, fifty yards ahead of Seungcheol’s ball. 
“Yeah, well.” Seungcheol huffs. “If she noticed, she never said anything.”
“Okay but did you ever say anything?” 
Jeonghan hands his club over to his catty before they start towards their respective zones. Seungcheol and his friend trailing behind.
Seungcheol argues. “You just said I wasn’t subtle?”
“You aren’t,” Jeonghan snorts. “But Y/N is about as impressionable as rock.”
“Did you think something was gonna happen?”
Seungcheol reaches his ball first. All the other guys are further ahead but Jeonghan sticks by.
“No.” Jeonghan says. “But I know you kissed her.”
Seungcheol turns to the other man, mouth gaped in shock. “How the fuck did you know that? Did she tell you?”
“I KNEW IT.” Jeonghan points at him like a little kid tattling on his friend. “ I fucking knew it! Sofie owes me fifty bucks.”
“What?”
“Y/N is a better liar than you, I’ll give her that but I knew something was off that first week I came to visit. I knew you didn’t have the balls to sleep with her so I must have been something else.”
Jeonghan asked you if you remember the kiss. Jeonghan and Sofie know you kissed. You remember the kiss. But you never said anything. If that doesn’t solidify Seungcheol firmly in the friendzone then nothing else would.
“You made a bet with your fiancée on whether your best friends kissed or not?” Seungcheol shakes his head in disbelief.
“You’ll understand when you have a successful relationship.” Jeonghan touts.
The catty hands over Seungcheol’s driver. He looks about Seungcheol’s age, maybe younger, and by the look on his face he’s trying very hard to pretend he isn’t listening to the unfolding drama. 
Another person to witness how hopeless he is. Great.
“It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake.”
“You never know,”  Jeonghan shrugs, following his catty further up the fairway and ending the conversation.
Back at the house, you’re nowhere to be seen while Seungcheol showers and changes. It’s for the best. No sleep, a horrible golf game, and now all the feelings that returned over the weekend have left him with nothing but a foul mood. 
Every step is dragged out so he doesn’t have to pretend you two are fine. He can’t afford another blow out right now because today is meant to be for Jeonghan and Sofie. Even if Jeonghan thought he should talk about it, Seungcheol couldn’t do it anymore. He wouldn’t do it anymore. But the time it takes leaves his head spinning out of control.
You’re pretending nothing is wrong. Cuddling up to him, calling him your husband. You nearly kissed him. You would’ve if he didn’t stop you. You always said cheating was worse than heartbreak but now here you are, capitalizing on his feelings for whatever satisfaction you selfishly crave; using Seungcheol to hurt your fiancé in secret. Who you seem dedicated to pretending doesn’t exist. 
It’s a nasty cycle. Feeling used, disbelief of who you’ve turned into in months away, that piece of him that always craved something more with you flowering only to wilt because it’s not real. 
You don’t want Seungcheol.
You never have.
The wedding party gathers outside the church. Sofie is tucked away in a private room until her grand entrance. She wanted everyone to be surprised, leaving her bridesmaids to mingle with the groomsmen until it was time to for the ceremony to start.
The lavender bridesmaid dress is nothing special. A tie at the top keeps the entire thing up, the front void of any details. The open back adds a flash of skin but other than that there isn’t much to it. But you’re wearing it and Seungcheol can feel his heart jerk as the fabric flows around your curves. The universe is taunting him with what he’ll never have.
He doesn’t stare despite the fact that every time he blinks his gaze automatically searches for you. It’s hard to ignore the only person he sees in a crowded room. Even if he’s pissed at you.
You excuse yourself from Seokmin, creeping over to where Seungcheol stands with a grin. “You clean up nice.”
“Thanks,” he nods.
“Is something wrong?’ 
A shot of annoyance flashes through him. Now is not the place. Last time he felt like this, you two got in a screaming match on a snowy sidewalk. “No.”
You shake your head, hand coming to rest on his arm in an act of comfort. “Are you sure? Because you’ve been acting weird.”
Betrayed by his own body. Half of him wants to get on the next flight home and block your number so he can forget all of this. It wouldn’t work. The times tried anything remotely of the sort only leave him in circling thoughts day and night.
The other half of him wants to wrap you in his arms and take whatever you're willing to give him. The half that could act like Johnny didn’t exist, at least not in this little bubble where nothing else exists but you and him. Because he's selfish and he’s been in love with you for years and he would never expect something in return for his feelings but he can’t take it any more.
But he can’t pretend anymore.
Pretending he’s never been jealous of your boyfriends, and that the night in college when you kissed meant nothing. That it didn’t flood his brain everytime he looked at you; that it didn’t leave more questions than answers. He’s been pretending everything has been fine, that seeing you asleep on his chest doesn’t make his heart hurt, and that he was stronger than the temptation to kiss you last night.
He remembers that night with clarity despite how drunk he was. Thought it meant you felt the same way he had for years.
“Cheers to finally being adults!” you scream, tequila shot raised over head.
Seungcheol laughs. Nothing is that funny but he’s nineteen and drunk in a dingy college bar with his best friend . “Adults!”
Someone passes by and knocks you forward, straight into Seungcheol's chest where you keep laughing as you look up at him.
You’re close. Closer than ever before. He could count all your eyelashes if there weren’t four of you floating in his vision. But Seungcheol doesn’t need to see clearly. Not when you’re already kissing him.
He’s kissing you.
It’s sloppy and drunk but his brain doesn’t think in big picture. It’s all feeling. Your hand in his shirt, a sweet sigh against his chin when you break away for a second just to come right back. Your mouth tastes like alcohol and lime and he’s never had anything better sweep across his tongue.
Thank god for the booth because you’re in his lap now, grinding against the seam of his jeans until he’s hard and when you finally realize you say his name.
And then Seungcheol pulls away, turns his head, and vomits before blacking out.
He hates that he thinks about it. He thinks about it all the time. What if? But there’s no more what ifs. There's only right now. Just you and him and the widening space in between that's become unnavigable. 
“I’m acting weird? I’m not the one rubbing herself all over me, calling me her husband to strangers, and trying to kiss me.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I can’t believe you would do something like this. Why would you put me in this position? Do you think it’s funny?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m happy for you, really. I just think it’s best if we don’t talk for a while. I think you need to sort things out with your fiance.”
Now that seems to get your attention. “Seungcheol, what—”
The music swells from the organ inside, cueing the ceremony and effectively silencing your questions. 
Good. It’s better that way. Seungcheol is weak for you in all the ways that matter and he knows if he had to stand there for another minute then your hurt expression is all it would take for him to fold and pretend he never said anything.
You join the other bridesmaids and Seungcheol ducks inside the church after the wedding planner opens the doors. One by one the other groomsmen walk in: Joshua, Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and finally Seokmin. Each line up further down Jeonghan’s side. Then the bridesmaids follow. 
Sofie’s cousin, who Seungcheol met once, glides down the aisle followed by another taller cousin who looks nearly identical. Then it’s Sofie’s roommate from college, Mona who Josh had been trying to get with all weekend.
You walk up the aisle, a smile plastered on your face but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You won’t look in his direction. 
Everything is slipping through his fingers and you both have to pretend they aren’t.
Everyone turns to watch Maria, and then Sofie. But the only person Seungcheol is paying attention to is you. 
The ceremony flies by. Sofie cries, Jeonghan cries. 
Sofie cries even harder when Jeonghan recites his vows in Italian. It’s odd, watching his two friends who usually are the couple laughing in the corner, be so vulnerable. Declaring their love for each other in front of a few hundred people.
“Sofie, sin dal primo momento in cui ti ho incontrata, sapevo che ti avrei voluta nella mia vita per sempre. Che tu mi amassi o odiassi, per me andava bene, perché significava che avresti pensato a me tanto quanto io pensavo a te. Mi hai dato il privilegio di chiamarti mia, e non posso aspettare di farlo per il resto delle nostre vite.”
Six months of using Seungcheol as practice, along with Sofie’s cousin, and he sounds decent. Jeonghan wouldn’t win any awards for his language skills but everyone’s faces melt around the room. Even the people that don’t know a word of what he’s say can feel the earnest dedication he has to Sofie. Even Seungcheol gets misty eyed.
“Io, Jeonghan, prendo te, Sofie, come mia sposa e prometto di esserti fedele sempre, nella gioia e nel dolore, nella salute e nella malattia, e di amarti e onorarti tutti i giorni della mia vita.”
“I, Sofie, take you, Jeonghan, as my husband and promise to be faithful to you always, in joy and in pain, in health and in sickness, and to love you and every day honor you, for the rest of my life.”
Then they kiss and Sofie screams something along the lines of “we’re married, bitches!” much to the priest demise before exiting the church. 
From there it’s chaos. 
The entire wedding party is corralled for endless pictures while everyone else heads back to the villa for the reception. You don’t look at him and Seungcheol refuses to acknowledge you until your parents are forcing you two together for awkward pictures like its high school prom.
By the time it’s over and he gets to the reception, the party is in full swing and the sun is setting.
Dinner is a blur. He makes his toast, short and sweet like Jeonghan told him to. The night progresses and people flood the cleared area serving as a makeshift dance floor in the center of the courtyard.
Seungcheol sips his wine. Three glasses in an hour because he isn’t sure what to do with his hands when his obligatory dance with Maria is over and he’s avoided being dragged on the floor by one of Sofie’s more zealous aunts because she herself demands a dance.
“How does it feel to be Mrs. Yoon?”
Sofie turns to watch Jeonghan twirls her great grandmother. Or more like Nonna Cosima leads him. She’s surprisingly spry for someone pushing triple digits. “I think he’s gonna be a great first husband.”
His gaze settles on you, Seokmin leading you across the floor in a ridiculous fashion. The younger man is trying hard to make you laugh and it seems to be working.
“She thinks you’re mad at her,” Sofie says.
“Maybe I am.”
“Care to share with the class?” She prods but Seungcheol doesn’t break, using the ending of the song to find a table at the edge of the makeshift dance floor. “Fine, but I feel like if you’re gonna pout at my wedding I should at least know why. Especially because I owe Han fifty bucks because you can’t lie to save your life.”
Seungcheol is mad. But mostly at himself. For tricking himself into thinking maybe, just maybe, there could be something more. That in all the improbable universes you returned his feelings, this would be one. 
And he did all that knowing you’re dedicated to someone else who is so entirely wrong for you.
“What did she tell you?” Seungcheol asks. 
“That’s not how this works. No pay, no play.”
He studies Sofie for a minute. She’s good at keeping her cards close but she knows about you and Johnny. It wouldn’t be a far leep to assume she knows about everything else.
“God, you sound like Jeonghan.”
“Have you and Y/N talked? Like, really talked, since you got here?” There's a weight at the end of that sentence but Sofie doesn’t elaborate. 
“Care to be more specific?” he asks, grabbing for another glass.
“I’ll take that as a no then.” Sofie takes the seat beside him.
His chest tightens. This is it. 
“About her and Johnny?”
“So she did say something…” Sofie fishes.
“No she didn’t. But I heard you guys in the kitchen the night I got in.”
“You did?” she gasps. “And you didn’t say anything to her about it?”
His jaw ticks in annoyance. “What’s there to say? ‘Congrats on your engagement, you’re too good for him’? I don’t think that's what she’d wa—”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Sofie throws her hands up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. All around the party continues. “You think Y/N is engaged? To who?”
“Johnny! Who else?”
Her drink sloshes over the sides of her wine glass, narrowly missing the white gown and falling to the cobblestone. “Oh my god, you’re an idiot!”
“Excuse me?”
“She’s not engaged, you dipshit,” she goes on. “Oh my god, you’re both so stupid. I told Han, I told him we should’ve said something.”
“What?” he says quietly.
Sofie continues as if Seungcheol hasn’t spoken at all, “I can’t believe she hasn’t told you.”
“Told me what?”
“She broke up with him!”
She broke up with him. She (you) broke up with him (Johnny). You and Johnny are done. It’s like he’s hearing the news from underwater.
“She broke up with him.” He repeats dumbly.
Someone cheers and then applause follows but Seungcheol is lost in his mind. You and Johnny aren’t engaged. You two aren’t even dating. Haven’t been. 
“When?”
Sofie’s face softens. She knows. The first time he introduced you to Sofie she assumed you two were dating. She didn’t like Johnny for a lot of the same reasons Seungcheol did, but also because she thought you two were meant to be together. “A week after she moved.”
That phone call the week after you moved. It must’ve been something to do with you and Johnny. But why didn’t you answer messages the next morning? Why would you break up with Johnny and then refuse to tell him? Why would you let Seungcheol think he was being used as the other man?
“So this entire week…”
“She was supposed to tell you. I told her to tell you months ago but does she listen to me? Nope.”
“Do you know why?”
“Now that is something she needs to tell you.” Seungcheol looks where you're dancing with Seokmin. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes but you laugh when the man dips you almost to the floor and struggles to lift you back up. “But first you need to apologize.”
“Is it that bad?”
“When I imagined someone crying at my wedding it wasn’t because of you.”
Seungcheol winces, “She cried?”
“Yep. You owe me a nice ass wedding gift for that one.”
“Sofie, I’m sorry I—” he tries to apologize. 
“Cheol, don’t worry about it.” She pats his arm. “It was actually a nice distraction from the insanity this week.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“It really is.” Sofie rises from the table, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing tray. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my husband owes me a dance. And Cheol?”
“Yeah?”
“You should tell her how you feel.”
Seungcheol takes his chance at Sofie’s departure. With the change in music Seokmin bows out and you're left on the dance floor alone. Cast in the soft glow of garden lights and candles, you’re tragically beautiful. Soft around the edges in a dreamy haze. Seungcheol feels like he’s intruding by approaching you but he needs to apologize before you both return to your separate corners of the country tomorrow night.
“Hey,” he greets.
You look at him apprehensively, eyes dark, before speaking. “Hi.”
You’re just as petty as Seungcheol so he knows if you’re speaking to him then there's some kind of hope he hasn’t completely ruined your friendship. But it could also mean you’re about to rip him a new one in front of everyone for not the first time in his life.
Hopefully, it’s the former.
“Mind a walk?”
“We’re at a wedding.”
Jeonghan and Sofie curl tightly around each other at the center of the courtyard. It’s clear from the way both their faces soften, lax grins reaching their ears, that the world has stopped spinning just for them.
“I’m pretty sure we could light them on fire right now and they wouldn’t notice. Besides, Sofie gave me her blessing,” he jokes but you don’t laugh.
“Fine,” you say before stalking towards one of the paths leading to more secluded parts of the house.
People drape across different parts of the villa as you two walk in silence to find some privacy. The gardens are full of chatting elders, kids running around in the dark or falling asleep in some adults' holds. After ten minutes with no luck at seclusion, Seungcheol has half a mind to go back to your room and talk it out but he doesn’t. The idea itself freezes his blood.
It’s not until you're deeper into the maze of shrubs and bushes that the voices and music fade. The silence is so tense he might shatter under the pressure.
You whip around to face him, still five paces ahead. 
“What did you want to talk about?” you deadpan.
Seungcheol thought through every thing he wanted to say, all the questions and whys and what ifs he’d collected during this trip but they abandoned him now that they have the chance to be answered. Instead, all that comes out of him is a shaky,  “I’m sorry.”
You wait for him to elaborate but he doesn’t. He’s apologizing for more than he could put in words and he’d list them off until the sun comes up if he starts now.
“Okay. Is that all?” you ask.
“Sofie told me about Johnny.”
You blanche. “She did?”
“Yeah, she did.”
“What did she tell you?” your arms draw tightly around your center. Like you’re holding your heart from spilling out your chest. 
Seungcheol regurgitates the limited facts Sofie shared, which is that Johnny hasn’t been in the picture for months and you never deemed him worthy of that information.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I tried. But you didn’t answer your phone and I felt so stupid afterwards and… I just couldn’t do it.”
It hits a nerve deep in his heart. How could it have been easier to spend months pretending he didn’t exist then tell him your relationship ended? More anger slips through. The nasty kind that makes him say things he doesn’t mean but Seungcheol tries to reign it in.
“So you just ignored me and thought that’d solve all our problems?” 
“No!’
“Then why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I moved cities for a guy I didn’t even like that much! I changed my entire life for him just to prove a point. Because you were right about him and I was wrong and only took a fucking week to realize that after I screwed everything up. I should have listened to you but—”
“So you lied to me because you didn't want me to say ‘I told you so’?” Seungcheol fumes. “Are you serious?”
“I didn’t lie to you!” you object.
“Yes you did! You stopped talking to me for months! Months. I can’t even remember we went a week without talking but you dropped off the face of the planet,” he rants. “I thought you were happy in New York with Johnny but apparently I’m the last to know anything. If you had just told me I wouldn’t have said anything. I would have gone up there and moved you back home myself.”
“I don’t want you to fix my mistakes!”
“Then what do you want? Because from where I’m standing I have no idea. All week you’ve been acting weird and because you didn’t tell me I thought you were using me to cheat on your boyfriend. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I didn’t mean to. Things just kept happening and I got swept up before I could tell you.”
Seungcheol was nothing more than a meaningless distraction, a rebound.
“So it didn’t mean anything to you?” he asks.
“No!” you cry. “I was just distracted.”
“Distracted? Are you serious?”
“You know what? Forget it. You don’t want to listen to me, you just want to be mad and yell.”
You’re right. Seungcheol does want to be mad and yell and pull his own hair out because what you’re saying isn’t helping untangle the knotted mess of his brain. It’s making it worse. Your confessions are watering that seed of hope in his chest despite the fact he knows nothing will ever happen. Even with Johnny out of the picture.
“Why did you break up with Johnny?”
“I—” Your eyes close. Pulled tight like you’re finding the courage to tell Seungcheol some dark secret. “He…” you swallow. “I broke up with him because…”
Seungcheol tenses, prepared for the absolute worst. You moved your entire life for the guy and broke up with him a handful of days later. There had to be a reason. “Because why? Did he do something?”
“No!” you correct. “I wish he did, I probably wouldn’t have felt like such a bitch but he didn’t do anything at all. I just realized we didn’t work.”
“You didn’t ‘work’?”
I told you so, indeed.
“Yeah. It’s kinda difficult to be with someone when you're in love with someone else,” you reply.
Suddenly, Seungcheol wishes he never brought it up. Another guy. One that isn’t him. Again. He’s the other man. Those gut feelings, the nagging voice at the back of his head that reminded him time and time again you couldn’t feel the same has its own ‘I told you so’ moment.
But that’s not what makes him feel horrible. He’d suffer from overthinking as long as needed just so you wouldn’t look so ashamed. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Seugncheol waits for you to elaborate. More silence except for the crunch of your shoes across the stone walkway. A bench comes into view and you slip into one of the spots before speaking again.
“I…I always wondered why those dates never worked out. Like, I would like someone but then they didn’t want the same things or they’d want the same things but I didn’t want them. And I guess Johnny was my last ditch effort because maybe if I knew from the beginning things weren’t gonna work out then I’d never be disappointed.”
Seungcheol isn’t sure what to say so he stays quiet.
“And I thought I could just live with it. Knowing I didn’t have what Jeonghan and Sofie have. Like who actually gets that in their life? But…”
“But?”
“But then I realized that there was only one guy my whole life that’s actually been everything I wanted and I was comparing everyone to him.”
“Who?”
“You.”
Him. You’ve compared every guy you’ve dated to him. He’s the person you want, the man you’ve measured everyone up to and found them wanting.
You’re in love with Seungcheol. You broke up with your boyfriend for Seungcheol.
You love him back.
“It’s fine, if you don’t feel that way about me. I’m okay with it. I wasn’t planning to tell you because I expected anything. I just… part of the reason I didn’t say anything is I know you don’t think about me like that but this week I thought— I don’t know what I thought. But I didn’t want to lie to you anymore.”
“You…what?”
“Let’s just agree to pretend this never happened, okay? We should get back to the party.” You move to rush past him but Seungcheol hooks an arm around your torso, light enough you could break through if you really wanted to but you stop all the same.
There is no way in hell you drop that bomb on him and leave him to deal with the aftermath alone.
His voice is unrecognizable to his own ears. “You broke up with Johnny because of me?”
“Yeah,” you swallow. You refuse to look at him, focusing on the neatly clipped grass your heels sink into.
“Because you’re in love with me.” 
You flounder. It isn’t a question. It’s a fact.
“How long?” Seungcheol presses.
“What?”
“How long have you been in love with me?”
“It's always been you.”
Seungcheol’s heart detonates into a million pieces.
“You?” His pulse is sprinting. You’re in love with him. Have been. Maybe as long as he’s been in love with. Impossible for it to be longer because there's no moment in time when Seungcheol didn’t carry his feelings for you like an old friend. “You didn’t say anything.”
Your eyes are wet again, more tears he wants to brush away but he can’t do anything but stare. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“You wouldn’t have,” he whispers back.
“What's supposed to mean?”
Your nose brushes along his, eyes soft as you glance at his mouth. 
Seungcheol won’t let himself kiss you yet. He can’t. The first time he feels your lips on his in years has to be in private because he shakes at the idea of it, a part of him chips away from just imagining even the most chaste brush. But mostly because he’s terrified that once he starts, he knows he won’t be able to stop.
“Do you remember that night in college?” he asks. You’re stunned speechless by the abrupt shift in topic but the words fall out of his mouth before he can think of a better way to say what needs to be said. He continues, “when we did a million shots and you kissed me?”
You snap back, slapping a hand on his chest and nearly teetering to the ground. “You bitch! You kissed me!”
“So you do remember!”
“Of course I remember,” you declare. “I thought you didn’t remember.”
You remember. You remember how his mouth tasted, how you ground into his lap, the feeling of his hands on your ass. All of it sticks with you like it stuck to him.
“Trust me, I remember.”
“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” you huff.
“I was going to but you told me you started dating whatever-his-name before I could.”
“Because I thought you didn’t like me back!”
“I’ve liked you since the first day I met you.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“You should’ve said something.” The admonishment means nothing. Not with the way you smile at him. It makes his heart soar, hope bursting at the seams. 
“I didn’t even know you realized I was a dude until college, why would I say something?”
“Trust me, I knew you were a guy way before college.”
“And we’re back to the original question: why didn’t you say anything?”
It's ridiculous. Utterly comical and unimportant of who said what when because they’re being said now and Seungcheol never has to pretend he isn’t hopelessly in love with you ever again.
You cozy up into his chest, fingers tracing the collar of his shirt. “Wow, barely five minutes we’re already fighting.”
“We’re not fighting.” His lips burn the word into your hairline, arms wrapping around your frame so his fingers can finally, finally, trace the bared skin of your back.
“Oh really?” You laugh. “Then what are we doing, oh wise one?”
“We’re having a spirited conversation over the fact you kissed me and never said anything.”
“And now we’re fighting over whether or not we’re fighting.”
“We’re not fighting.”
“You’re exhausting.” Your eyes roll. He can’t see it, not with how you duck into his neck, but he knows you did it. Because Seungcheol knows you better than anyone else.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“And you kissed me.”
“Well then there's only one way to settle this.”
“Which is?”
Seungcheol doesn’t answer. If Jeonghan could be lit on fire and not think of anyone but his wife, then the world could fall to dust and the only thing on Seungcheol’s mind is the way your mouth feels against his.
It’s light at first. Airy because you’re both still laughing over arguing if you’re fighting or not. But then Seungcheol loses his balance and you help by curling a hand around his shoulder but refuse to stop kissing him and the world blinks out of existence for a second.
All the cliches start making sense. Two halves of a whole, puzzle pieces slipping together, all the things poets could say in a million more eloquent ways than him.
But Seungcheol feels at home for the first time in his life.
It’s not easy maneuvering a full grown woman up and into his lap. It’s especially not easy because you’re you and you’re more stubborn than anyone he’s met in his life which means you object to every step, huff and puff at a brief second of broken contact, but the second he spins you around and drags over his lap you melt.
Your tongue glides along his, sending a tsunami of want through his bones. You whimper. Or maybe he does. Seungcheol can’t tell what's up and what's down right now. He finds the open back of your dress and relishes in the arch of your spine, the choppy breath he can feel beneath his palms.
The silk bow holding your dress up teases his hand as Seungcheol traces the notches of your spine. No one would see. No one except him and the moon and the stars who’ve all stopped to watch. He wants to. God, he wants to but he doesn’t.
You tug at his hair and your name floods his tongue like a curse. 
Draped across his lap in nothing but thin satin, you can feel all of him. How his cock hardens against the back of your thighs, shaky breathes in his lungs wrecking into your own chest. You're not wearing a bra. None of that tape or the sticky thing you’d leave hanging in the bathroom when you lived together. Seungcheol knows because he thumbs over the soft swell of your chest and you respond with a rock of hips that leaves his mouth watering.
The last time he kissed you, that fateful night freshman year of college, Seungcheol thought about it every night for months. He thought about it in the shower, in his bed. His mind would wander towards the memory during class and when he walked around campus.
Now he’ll think about this for the rest of his life.
A shrieking laugh almost sends you to the ground in haste to break away, but Seungcheol catches you in time. 
“Um…” you choke. Your lips are swollen, eyes a little dazed.
“We should go back inside.”
“Yeah.”
“Just, give me a minute.”
“Why?” Your smile grows steadily as you press more firmly into his predicament.
“I have an issue right now.”
“What kind of issue, Cheolie?” you stare at him through your lashes, finger tracing down the front of his shirt until you reach the button of his pants.
“Oh God,” he grunts as the heel of your hand rocks into him. “You’re actually evil.”
Your lips trace over his jaw, sucking and nipping at the lobe of his ear until he shudders. “Don’t you want me?” 
“I do,” he breaths. “Shit.”
His hand squeezes across your ass, your breasts, mindful of how much freedom you’re giving him. To feel you like this, to touch you the way he’s wanted to for years. 
“Then have me,” you moan. 
“Don’t say stuff like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to fuck you right here.”
“But I do want you to fuck me.” Your hand is in his pants. “Right.” A tight squeeze on his cock. “Here.” He ruts into the next one.
His insides spark with a hot kind of electricity at the idea of you jerking him off where anyone could see. But he wants to touch you. And that he doesn’t want anyone else to even imagine. He’s shared you enough with the world. 
Seungcheol wants a piece of you that's just for him right now.
“Fuck, okay. Stop.”
“What’s wrong?”
“We’re going back inside.”
“Oh?”
Seungcheol doesn’t give into your obvious goading. It’ll just waste more time. Give you another chance to wring him out to dry and he knows if you get his pants down far enough it’s game over for the both of you. 
He rushes you through the garden, all but dragging you behind him in his haste to get you somewhere secluded. He’d settle for a broom closet at this point. Anywhere he can have you alone.
But you won’t go down without a fight.
You slow to a near stop, whining, “My feet hurt.”
Seungcheol leads you back over another stone bench, immediately kneeling and grabbing your ankle. The pebbles of the path dig into his knee but the slit of silk revealing your bare legs is a good distraction.
“Alright, Cinderella. Let’s get these off,” he jokes. The buckle is delicate and keeps slipping from between his fingers no thanks to your help.
“I can do it myself!”
You try to kick him off but Seungcheol catches your calf easily. Instead of focusing on the teasing stretch of skin, he watches the way your nose wrinkles indignantly after thwarting your attempt to catch him off guard. You’re cute. Probably because he’s in love with you and the rush from knowing you love him back has him feeling a million miles tall.
“Cheol?”
“Yeah?”
Pulling your foot into his lap, Seungcheol brushed his fingers against the knob of your ankle. The tiny buckle that refuses to come undone. Your shaking doesn’t help much.
“Cold?” he asks.
You nod furiously. Warmth hangs in the air but Seungcheol won’t assume your comfort; the silk you're wrapped in doesn’t provide much coverage against the elements. It doesn’t provide him any protection from a wild imagination fueled from years of pining. Without a thought, he shakes off his jacket and hands it to you before moving back to your shoe.
Looming over him, Seungcheol feels your breath hit his forehead. He wants to look up but you’re too close. Too tempting. 
He finally undoes one shoe, then the other. But you don’t say anything and neither does he from his spot between your legs. It’d be easy. So easy to bunch your skirt around your waist, part your legs, and make you cum on his finger. Then his mouth. Then his cock.
You’re thinking the same thing. A hiccup of breath rustling the hair on his forehead, your hands stroking the muscles of his neck give you away. 
But when he starts, he knows he won’t be able to start. He’ll want nothing less than all of you. Give all of himself to you. If you’ll have him.
But a hard stone bench isn’t the place to worship your body the way you deserve. He’d be a gentleman. Even if it killed him to wait any longer. You were worth waiting for. Seungcheol would wait a million more lifetimes if he got to feel like this again.
No shoes means he’s carrying you the rest of the way. He’s done it before and you’re not that heavy but he’s been drinking. And then there's the matter of all the blood in his body heading south, so he struggles more than usual.
“You’re sure you’ve got it?” you cling on for dear life when he nearly stumbles under the first step.
“Sorry, I haven’t been carrying a lot of full grown women around lately.”
“I thought you were looking a little small,” you goad.
“Small?” he objects.
“Yeah, small.” You squeeze over his biceps and his chest like you two aren’t sneaking around a packed mansion where anyone could stumble by. His resolve slips further out of reach at the dig of your nails. “Been skipping the gym lately?”
He feigns dropping you, laughing when you scramble for hold under threat of falling flat on your ass.
“Asshole!” you laugh.
Things fizzle back to comfortable silence. Your companions are far off laughs and the loud music from the courtyard. The garden is all but abandoned, not a single soul in sight. It makes it all too tempting to find another bench and take up what was interrupted earlier. The heat of your breath against his ear with each giggled whisper didn’t help. Neither did the warm weight of your thighs in his hold or the firm press of your chest against his back. 
It’s a mistake to look over his shoulder. Your eyes shine in the moonlight as you stare back, a smile lifting the corner of your lips.
Seungcheol focuses back on the hallway, double checking for any passersby. There’s nothing indecent about a man giving a woman a tipsy piggy back ride. 
But there is something entirely inappropriate about how hard he is while doing so.
And Seungcheol knows you know. Or if you don’t then the universe has a personal investment in his suffering. Every step is more difficult than the last because your thighs squeeze around his torso, and your hands find their way down his chest, and then there’s the giggling every time he back tracks because a drunken guest stumbles by on the way to their own room.
You’re sneaking around like two idiot teenagers and it might kill him from lack of blood to his brain.
But Seungcheol wouldn’t have it any other way.
He pauses at the last staircase to catch his breath. There’s no reason you’re still on his back other than the fact he doesn’t want to let you go and the position is the only reason he hasn’t found a dark corner to do whatever you please yet.
“Awww poor Seungcheol, tired already,” you coo. 
Your teasing tone makes his blood boil, worse how you readjust your hold with more squeeze and stretching that leaves him with nothing but horribly inappropriate thoughts of what you’ll do after he gets up the stairs.
Finally, the hallway housing your room appears and he can’t get through the door fast enough. 
You're pressed flat between the door and his body in a blink, fully at Seungcheol’s mercy as he kisses you again. 
“Wait,” you mutter.
Seungcheol sucks along your bottom lip. You pull him closer, arching into his chest. Your stomach is soft against the gentle grinds of his cock. He doesn’t want to wait anymore.
“We—hmmm,” you sigh. “Need to talk about this.” 
Seungcheol pulls away from your mouth, trailing scorching kisses down your neck that leave you shivering. “What about it? I love you, you love me. Feels like that's all there is to it.” 
The second he says it, Seungcheol knows he’s wrong. But he doesn’t want to think about the fine details. He’s never done long distance but you’re only a train ride away. 
“Cheol.” You prod a finger into his collarbone until he dips back.
“I mean it’ll suck being in different cities but it’s not forever right? We’ll figure it out.”
You dip your chin. “I’m not staying in New York.”
“Oh. That’s—” he cups your cheek, pulling your gaze to his. “I’ll go wherever you need me.”
You smile up at him and everything goes blank. In that moment, he vows to do anything you ever ask if it means you’ll keep looking at him like that.
“I’m moving back to D.C.” You kiss the words into his palm, eyes never leaving his.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” You smile. “Sofie’s friend needed a roommate and my job agreed to let me go remote so…”
“When do you move back?”
“Two months. They want to wait until the busy season is over.”
“But then you’re back. For good?”
“For good.”
It feels like you're promising a whole lot more.. 
You have Seungcheol for good too. As long as you want him, he’s yours. Probably for long after too. 
He’s so happy, it burns across his skin. It can’t be contained. This is all real. He fights the urge to pinch himself because not even in the wildest of his dreams did he think this was possible. 
"When you come back home.” Home he thinks. Home with him. Where you belong. “We're going on a date. And you're going to let me pay, and woo you, and take care of you because I love you. Okay?”
Your hands twine around his shoulders before you respond with a nod, “Okay.”
In the privacy of your room, you’re the one that tugs the knot holding your dress up. The silk slips down your chest revealing inch after inch of what he’s only dreamed off. When it pools around your waist, Seungcheol almost falls to his knees.
You shiver in the cool bedroom air. His eyes drink in the way your nipples peek under his gaze. Every inhale shakes in your lungs and he thinks this might just be enough for him to die peacefully. The silk trickles like water down your figure until you're left standing in nothing but skimpy panties.
“Fuck,” he curses.
Your hands flash to cover your chest, “What?”
“No, don’t,” Seungcheol reassures. His hands find yours, tracing along your thumb. “You’re just…”
“Just?” you ask.
“Wow.”
“I’m wow?” you laugh. 
Seungcheol takes another step into your space. And then another and another, your dress crumbling to the floor and leaving behind nothing but the thin band of your underwear for him to remove. Your knees hit the mattress and he follows you down into the cushion.
You're soft and warm like afternoon sunlight on a winter day under his wandering hands.
“You’re wow,” he responds, angling your chin so your mouth can meet his, noses grazing against one another.
You don’t have the patience to hear Seungcheol ramble about how perfect you are. Instead, you drag him into a desperate kiss, tongue teasing his. He’ll wax poetically later. Right now he wants to give you whatever you demand.
More kissing, the prickle of your teeth along his lip, and Seungcheol is pretty sure he’s never been harder in his life. It’s humbling and exhilarating all at once. Ready to crumble into nothing from some light petting.
He takes his revenge on the curve of your shoulder and it turns out to be extra sensitive. Every nip and suck along your collarbone leaves you panting, hands scratching up his back for some relief. He wonders what else is sensitive.
He laves against your nipple in maddening slowness. You torture him as well, ankles locking at the base of his spine while you grind against him and make more noises he’ll commit to memory forever.
 “God,” you whine when Seungcheol finally breaks and rocks down into the tempting heat of your core.
He needs more. 
“Do you think about this?” he grunts with another torturous press. He could come like this. You could come from this. Two adults, reduced to dry humping like horny teenagers.
“I think about you all the time,” you gasp.
“What do you think about?”
“You.”
Seungcheol snickers, “More specific.”
“Touching me, kissing me. Anywhere. Everywhere.”
A swell of neanderthal pride blooms in his heart. The image of you, touching yourself with his name on your lips breaks another piece of his self control that wants to savor this.
“Here?” he kisses the swell of your breast, waiting for a nod to move on. 
“Here?” A suck on your nipple again until the bed sheets threaten to rip from your hold.
“Here?” A bite at your hip bone.
His fingers part your core, wet at first contact even over your panties. “What about here?”
“Everywhere. I’ve thought about you touching me everywhere.” You sound like you might start crying if he doesn’t fulfill that fantasy soon. 
But he’s dying to know every little thought you’ve ever had about him. If you think about him a fraction as much as he thinks about you. Not just like this, but when he sees a building he’d never think twice about and know you’d have something to say about the construction of the window arches, or when he walks through the park and sees two dogs meeting for the first time and can hear your voice whisper ‘best friends!’ like you’re right beside him. You’re in everything. Every part of who he is.
Your panties come off and he licks between your legs slowly, savoring every part he can while you twitch and curl beneath him. 
“Cheol,” you whine.
There's no need to elaborate. He feels it too.
Your back bows under his touch, and Seungcheol watches you touch yourself with rapt attention. You grab your breasts and squeeze, nipples visible between fingers. 
He sucks your clit, tongue lashing at the sensitive nub. A million times Seungcheol thought about doing this and never did his brain imagine the sounds you’d make, the way you taste, the rough tub at his hair. You're hot and wet under his mouth and all Seungcheol wants is more, more, more.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“So good—fuck—it’s so good,” you gasps as he fucks your opening with his tongue, collection your flavor.
His finger wedges inside your tight walls. You angle your hips, sinking them deeper. Seungcheol pauses for only a moment before giving you a second one. The sting across his scalp from your frantic tugging leaves him straining against the zipper of his slacks.
He cups your ass, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed where he kneels. Your legs spread wider to grant him the space to  savor the pink of your folds under his tongue without obstruction.
Your pitch rises, moaning through a third finger joining the mix and a rough lap of his tongue that has you kicking the sheets.. He can feel it; your end just over the hill. A few vulgar flicks of his tongue and its release in long waves that make you keen his name horsley. 
You melt into a boneless heap. Occasional twitches of muscles flooding with pleasure the only sign of life.
Seungcheol mouths up your stomach, sucking a nipple between his teeth for a second before moving on to your mouth. If all you want to do tonight is kiss and let Seungcheol worship your pussy, then he’ll oblige. But the way pull at his clothes hints at what you want. He draws you back into his lap, your body hot against his, mouth coaxing yours open. 
“Good?”
You giggle against his mouth. “I can’t feel my toes.”
He can’t stop touching you. Probably won’t ever stop now that he knows what it means to call you his. To know your body. You’re no better. Your hands rake through his hair, goosebumps erupting as you tug him exactly where you want.
The soft lines of your throat, the intoxicating taste of sweat and perfume flooding his tongue. It’s better than anything his sorry excuse for an imagination could come up with.
You tug at his shirt, up and up until it’s forgotten on the floor. Your bare chest against his lights an inferno of want. Seungcheol pushes apart your limp thighs, making space for himself to grind against your sensitive core through his own trousers. 
Seungcheol remembers a crucial fact as you slip a hand in his pants and tease his leaking cock.
“Wait,” he mutters into your jaw.
You don’t stop, slowly jerking him off, teeth cutting into the vein on his neck. “What?’
Seungcheol savors your touch before responding, thrusting through your first with blind want. “I don’t have condoms.”
“Oh.”
“I can go and try to find some but I—” he rambles. 
“Cheol.”
“—everyone is probably still at the party so—”
You shut him up with a hand over his mouth, “I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”
“Oh.”
Oh. Seungcheol’s brain swims with lewd imagination; you stuffed with his cum, pussy stretched and worn from his cock. Feeling you raw, again and again until your helpless sweaty messes. 
“Unless you want to use them then that's fine!” you hastily supply.
He cups your face, smiling as you ramble about how okay you are with using condoms. Your face is warm, eyes avoidant while you enthusiastically declare you want to do whatever makes him comfortable. Which is an entirely new problem because if your goal is to make him comfortable, then neither of you will be leaving this bed for the foreseeable future and at some point people will start looking for you.
Seungcheol rolls over. You take advantage of the opportunity for free command of his lap, forcing his pants down until he’s as bare as you. He preens under your wide eye stare, ego flaring under your wide eye stare. Leaning back on his palms, he grows cocky from your silence.
“Like what you see?” Seungcheol goads.
Your gaze cuts to his, eyebrows arched in your own challenge. A flare of fear zaps up his spine. 
He loves it.
Seungcheol is accustomed to taking the lead in bed. Some girls want him to be domineering, others prefer to sit back while he naturally takes the reins. 
But you’ve butt heads with him in every aspect of life, hopefully this would be no different. He’s hoping you might even try telling him exactly how you want him.
“You’re so hard for me,” you whisper. Your hand reaches out, thumbing at the leaking head of his cock with seductive confidence. 
Seungcheol nods in agreement at a loss of words under your touch.
Your head cocks to the side curiously, empty hand slipping between your thighs, making space for the head of his cock to nudge against your clit. “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
He nods again.
“Good,” you smile. You hide in his neck, nosing along the tense muscles straining to break out from his skin. “I thought about you fucking me like this. When we were in high school. I thought—I wanted you to be the first.”
“Really?” he asked dazedly. 
Your first. Not Stoner Ricky from Calculus. But him. You wanted Seungcheol to have you first, possible be the only one for each other. It’s a lie if he didn’t think of you in the back of his mom’s car while Tiffany Something took his virginity. Your lips, your voice instead of her nasally pornographic sounds, when he came it was only because he closed his eyes and thought of you. 
He tells you that and earns a deep bite on his shoulder. 
You continue, “I’d watch porn or read those smut books, and I always pictured it was you.”
“God.”
You sink on his cock, pussy stretched on his length, stars flaring across your vision. There's not enough air in the room to breathe through the tight squeeze wrecking your guts. You’re in the position of control but Seungcheol can already see submission gaining control. You won’t admit you can handle his cock but pride warms his veins at how much energy it takes for your stunted rhythm. 
“Fuck,” you curse.
 “Yeah? Feels good having your pussy stuff with my cock?” Your nails bite into his chest in response. Pink lines flare in their wake, one he hopes are still there tomorrow. 
Seungcheol drags you into a kiss, a dirty culmination of teeth and tongue and your satisfied sighs and his needy grunts. You suck at his lips, focused on that rather than riding him. 
“Taping out already?” 
You ignore the dig. It takes the barest twinge of his arm and you’re rolling on your back, legs spread in invitation. He sinks into the space reserved just for him, sliding deeper than before. Now he’s the one that needs a moment. Squeezed to death between your walls is the sweet torture he’s ever experienced, the wet sloppy drag of your cunt, bare for him and him alone. 
It’s an act of bravery to pull out for the sake of thrusting back in. If he was confident enough you could get off without his hips sinking deeper then he’d never do it, content to keep his cock wedge inside you and play with your clit and tits until you cry from the pleasure. But he really wants to fuck you. 
“God, feels so good.” You break. He keeps his pace steady, building you up until you muster a way to squeeze him tighter and his skins on fire. 
He hoists your leg up, a deeper stretch that leaves him muttering about how good you feel. The wet slap of your cunt grows louder, sloppy clashes of his pelvis against yours.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, stomach caving. The urge to cum is nipping at his heels but Seungcheol is better than that. Better than a quick fuck, at least for this first time. He wants to hear more of your sounds, fold you in every position he can imagine.
“More,” you grunt. “Fuck me harder, baby.”
He gives you what you ask for; plowing you into the mattress until the headboard slaps against the wall. “You like that?”
“Love it—shit. I love it.” You prop yourself up, shoving a hand between your bodies to swipe messy strokes across your clit. Seungcheol collects more sounds from the back of your throat, rough growls and stuttered squeaks. His cock is heavy in your guts, soaked with your arousal and his cum.
Your mouth finds his. Panting breath and loose tangles of lips. It’s a race against time with his vision bleached white. Your stomach caves with effort to meet each stroke with one of your own. 
“I love you,” he groans. 
You clench at his words, growing wetter if possible. Flailing against the bed, he hooks your other knee under his elbow and presses flat, pinning you down under his mercy. “I love you,” you whine back. “I-I—”
Your orgasm floods your veins, brain fuzzy and disconnected from anything beyond Seungcheol. He takes over the circles around your clit. Calloused fingers providing sick friction until you can’t take anymore.
“Wanna feel you come, Cheolie. Please,” you beg.
Something snaps and he’s rushing to pull out, jerking off over your stomach with your hand to help.
Rope after rope shines in the dim moonlight. He can’t even try to pretend the thrill of cumming inside isn’t on the forefront of his mind as the drips of his spend stare back at him. But you look like a fantasy come true cover in his cum, skinned flushed, eyes glazed and chest heaving. His own Venus come to life.
He pushes back in, spent cock sensitive to the squeeze of your cunt. Seungcheol doesn't want to be anywhere else. Now that he has you, he can't imagine a moment without you.
Sinking the weight of his hips, your legs lock him in. A combination of cum, sweat, arousal, and a few tears sticks between your sweltering bodies. Neither of you care, too enamored with cataloguing every bare inch of skin with in reach of your mouths.
‘Ugh,'' you groan. “I need a shower.” 
In the bathroom, where so many horrible dangerous thoughts have plagued Seungcheol since the start of this trip, it’s peaceful. The thrum of the shower drowns out any sound beyond your sleepy huffs and his hums of content. 
As the water heats you press him into the edge of the sink, kissing him as if there's all the time in the world to do just that. That seed of need that has been growing steadily in his gut since he kissed you in the garden comes alive again. You seem to ignore the prod at your thigh though so Seungcheol ignores it too and shepherds you into the stall.
He washes your back with soapy hands and you coif his hair into a shampoo mohawk and it’s feel right no matter how ridiculous he probably looks. You twist every time he touches your waist, shrieking in laughter because you hate being tickled.
Seungcheol is happy. It floods his veins, shoots through the tips of his fingers tracing your hip, forcing a content grin on his lips despite the fatigue of the day. He rests his forehead against your own and takes his first deep breath since New Years.
“I don’t want this to change anything."
“What?” you pull away.
“No!” Seugncehol shouts, wincing at the voluming. “Not—I didn’t mean that I just meant…I-I want you to feel like you can tell me anything. No more secrets. Okay? No matter what changes between us you're still my best friend. If I'm acting like an ass I want you to tell me. If you change your mind then-"
You watch him, features softening. “I won't."
You distract him with your own touches; it’s nice at first. Then it’s nothing short of blissful agony. Teasing nails across his stomach and sides, firm against his body in a way that leaves him weak and wanting. His heart thuds sporadically under your lips as his cock swells against your stomach.
“Y/N,” he sighs.
You kneel in front of him, smirking at how easy he is. You rub his cock with a slick grip. Your mouth comes into play slowly; kissing his hip, then his thigh, your tongue drags up the side until you suck the head between your lips and Seungcheol almost collapses.
You hold his thighs, guiding him further down your throat until there's no more space and you gag. He isn’t sure what to do with his hands but it doesn’t matter because he’s cumming. Fast.
Without missing a beat, you swallow everything he gives you. 
“Oh god—fuck.”
“Good?” you ask, still licking against the head of his cock.
Rather than answer the obvious, he pulls you to your feet with a gentle kiss to your forehead. He’ll make it up to you back in bed. For right now, you curl into his chest, tracing shapes into his collarbone as the water slowly turns cold. 
He pats you dry, ruffling your hair in the humid bathroom with all the time in the world before dragging you back to bed. You snuggle under the covers, still naked. Seungcheol joins immediately, rolling on top of you and caging his arms on either side of your head.
“Hi,” you smile from underneath him.
He can’t help but grin back. “Hi.”
You make love slowly this time. Your back to his chest, Seungcheol curled around you like a second skin, whispering his adoration in your ear until you lurch and cum with a cry. Then he does it again. And one more time because nothing is better than the taste of his name on your tongue.
This time, when Seungcheol finishes, it’s inside you. And when he tries to pull out, you protest with a sleepy threat before slipping into the land of dreams.
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“Well, well, well,” Jeonghan tsks from the foot of the bed. “What do we have here?”
You’re still curled in Seungcheol’s arms, bare skin on bare skin only obscured by the blanket he had half a mind to drag over your two in the early hours of the morning. He’s still inside you for Christ Sake. 
And yet Jeonghan and Sofie stand like two cats who caught the canary; unperturbed by the state of things. More like they’re delighted.
It might go down as the shortest honeymoon in history because Seungcheol is going to murder them.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on a boat in Greece somewhere?” Seungcheol croaks, pulling you closer and forcing the blanket overhead. Maybe if he ignores them long enough they’ll go away.
“We were just leaving and wanted to say goodbye since some people decided to ditch our wedding. Now I see why.”
“Jeonghan,” you croak.
Jeonghan preens smugly. “Yes, whore?” 
 “Get out or I’ll show Sofie that video of you from Halloween.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“What video from Halloween?” Sofie asks.
“Jeonghan,” you warn. You’ll do it. The video of Jeonghan sobbing in a party city wig about how much he liked Sofie before they started dating is one of the few pieces of blackmail against him. 
“Fine. But when I’m back next month I want an explanation.”
“What video from Halloween?” She asks again as Jeonghan pushes her out the door.
“I hate him,” you say.
Seungcheol hums his agreement against your shoulder, tracing the skin with his lips until you shiver. “Me too.”
“Now, are you gonna do something about that,” you rock back into his pelvis, a tight squeeze around his cock he bucks into. “Or can I get up?”
“Roll over.”
Seungcheol fucks you for the nth time in so few hours. You whine and whimper and melt into the mattress under his weight, face buried in the pillows in an effort to stay quiet. He doesn’t care that the sun is heavy in the sky and half the house must be able to hear the way he groans around the syllables of your name. 
He doesn’t care one bit.
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Seungcheol has seen you in plenty of relationships, been in several of his own, but he’s never been in a relationship with you.
Turns out all the daydreaming and what-ifs couldn't come close to reality.
It’s better.
Most things are still the same. You two still bicker about everything. He finds your hair all over his apartment. His clothes magically disappear from his closet only to turn up at your place. You call him a stubborn jackass and he calls you a drama queen (both in regards to how he loads the dishwasher).
And he loves that even while dating you two refuse to change. 
But Seungcheol also loves all the new things. The firsts you get to share.
The first time you visit home as a couple, your mom spots him kissing along your knuckles as you approach the house and she starts crying. Loudly. He spots his dad hand his mom twenty bucks but not before your dad hands over another ten.
Apparently, everyone was waiting for this to happen. 
His dad claps him on the shoulder and your dad shakes his hand and suddenly he’s no longer Seungcheol, childhood best friend who lived down the street. He is Seungcheol, boyfriend. He’s known your parents since he was in elementary school and his mom texts you more frequently than her own son.
But none that matters because, at the ripe age of thirty, you two are banned from sleeping over during the visit for the first time in your lives.
He’s got a suspicion it’s because none of them know how to handle their kids finally dating. You and Seungcheol have never been normal but they’re trying. 
Even if he sneaks out like he’s a teenager and climbs into your window in the dead of night. Now that's a fantasy come to life.
Back in the city Seungcheol discovers more ways things have changed.
You spend almost every night at Seungcheol’s apartment. When your sublease ends after four months there isn’t a big production about moving in with him. You had a key since he moved into the place years ago. Your stuff ends up in his spare room, which becomes ‘your’ room but you both call it the guest room and it's a new level of domesticity he’s never had.
In the mornings, you find him in the bathroom if he forgot to drop a good morning kiss on your forehead (something he’s started doing on purpose because you totter in with your eyes still closed and pajamas wrinkled, diving straight into his chest and grumbling incoherently until he gives in). It’s enough to make his heart squeeze even after the hundredth time). 
Or how you constantly find a reason to touch him. Curled around his back while he makes dinner, shimmying under his arm when he’s reading case files on the couch. A hand through his hair while you cuddle in bed. Your shared bed, in your shared apartment. Which he is embarrassingly giddy about but you are too and that makes him feel better. You meet for lunch, at either of your offices, and he can see the instinct to drop into his lap making your fingers twitch but only because his own flex with the urge to pull you in first.
The first time you go to a baseball game together and end up on the kiss cam and he doesn’t have to pretend to not notice or awkwardly wait for the cameraman to catch the hint, because you’re kissing him until his ears grow hot and the crowd hoots wildly.
In the best way possible it’s weird. He doesn’t know how to date someone he’s been in love with for as long as he can remember. A lot of it feels like being friends. Like whatever was there before is the bones and all the new things filled in the empty space between.
There isn’t really a guide or set timeline but you’re figuring it out. 
And Jeonghan helps. In his own Jeonghan way.
“You guys have been softcore dating since highschool. Just think of it like dogs. You’ve dated for a year now, right? That's like seven years for your guys.”
Seungcheol will tell you later tonight, after you’ve said yes, how the last part of your trio gave his blessing. How Sofie helped him pick the ring (which was really Seungcheol picking the ring and her providing moral support via muzzling her husband).
But for right now, he watches you across the table, laughing at something the waiter said, the weight of the velvet box burning a hole in his pocket.
And he knows the next first you have together will be the best one yet.
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luvyeni · 5 months
Text
❛THE SINNER AND THE SIN❜ ( l. heeseung )
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p. badboy!heeseung x fem!reader w. 4.7k+
— 𖦹 warnings. corruption kink, drug usages, virginity loss, unprotected sex, oral ( f. receiving )
authors note. this was supposed to be a short drabble but oh well ,🤷🏽‍♀️— 𖦹 ( heeseung never really liked church until he met you ) !
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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lee heeseung didn’t want a lot of things— he didn’t want to get up and go to school in the morning, or work with his day on the weekends to “keep him out of trouble” — even though that didn’t stop him from sneaking out in the middle of the night to smoke and drink with his friends
he also didn’t want to go to church with his family on sundays — well at first he didn’t, those people didn’t like him, and he didn’t care, the feeling was mutual— but then he met you, and suddenly he was ready for church every sunday; of course he never ended up staying, getting a few glimpse of you, getting up and leaving out the back where his friends waited with beer and other substances for them to try.
“the new pastors daughter? really?” his friends would laugh at him. “at least the last pastors daughter would give blowjobs to anyone who’d look at her.” jake said. “but her, look at her bro.” he’d just roll his eyes, chewing down on his lip ring as he watched you run to your next class; your long skirt flowing behind you, clutching your books as you maneuvered your way through the halls. “she’s running to class and we still have 10 minutes left and it’s gym class.” heeseung smiled to himself, the funniest thing about that is you didn’t even participate in the class, sitting on the bleachers watching everyone else.
heeseung didn’t see you that day; sunghoon suggesting they leave school to go get high at his house — but he knew he’d see you on sunday, even it was only for a few minutes.
“you know my cousin runs a camp for boys like him.” heeseung rolled his eyes at the older man in front of him and his mother. “have him fixed in no time, those scandalous tattoos and the unholy lip gone; all that dark make up as well, make him a good and respected boy, ready for marriage.” his mother couldn’t do anything but laugh awkwardly, something she always did when anyone questioned his ways. “i’ll get you the number at the end of the service.”
“put your jacket on.” his dad said. “its 70 degrees outside, and 80 in here.” he scoffed. “yeah well you should’ve thought about that before messing your skin up with all that scribble.” he said as the music started, they stood up. “you’ll sneak out in about 10 minutes anyway, for now don’t disrespect the lord with that garbage on your arm.” he threw the jacket over his arms annoyed. “thank you.”
10 minutes in and he still hadn’t seen you yet; normally you’re sitting right in front with your mother, legs covered by a blanket, hiding your legs that he'd gotten a peak of a few times before you were quickly covered up by your mother; he was sure she knew he was looking at you, of course she didn’t want her daughter being gawked at, especially by a boy like him.
his phone rang out, some people turned their heads, realizing who it was, shaking there heads before turning back. “do you mind?” his mom whispered. he took his phone out; reading the message from jay. ‘are you done staring at your girlfriend? get your ass on, jake is losing his mind without his weed.’
he tucked his phone away; standing up. his parents don’t even look at him, they’re used to this; guess he'll see you in school. walking out of place, about to make his way out the back. “you can go out the front you know?” a voice made him stop; a voice he’d only heard from afar until now. “you always go out the back, but the front is right there, they can’t keep you here, that would be kidnapping.”
he turned around facing you; your white blouse covered in red and wet. “my sister spilled her juice on me.” Your soft voice calmed him. “my favorite shirt too.” you mumbled to yourself, he smiled to himself, he was about to say something when the back door swung open. “hyung.” jake’s voice rang throughout the hallway. “hurry the fuck up, the beers are getting cold.”
your eyes widened; ready to turn and walk the other way— he was gonna kill jake. “wait.” he called out, you stopped mid walk. “here.” you turned around and he was shucking his jacket off, handing it to you. “to cover up your shirt, your shirt is white and it’s see through.” he watched your arms fly up to your chest, covering yourself, he chuckled; extending his arm out— he’d already seen it. “th-thank yo-you.” you said meekly, grabbing the jacket. “i-i’ll return it tomorrow.”
he nodded, a door swinging open again — this time it was the door to the church. “yn!” you heard your mother gasp. “mother.” you said. “yn get over here this instance.” you turned to the boy apologetically, your mother looked at the boy with disgust in her eyes, he scoffed under his breath. “see you around pinky.” he said, your eyes widened as he turned to walk out the back— your bra was pink. “what were you doing out here?” she asked. “and with that boy?” you shook your head. “nothing mother, just trying to get the stain out the shirt like you said.” you showed her the jacket. “he let me borrow this, that’s it.” You starred at the ground. “you can’t wear this, what would people think?” she exclaimed. “i have nothing else.”
“here.” she took her sweater off, handing it to you. “you are to give that boy his jacket back tomorrow and never speak to him again, you understand?” you nodded. “good, now let’s go listen to the rest of your fathers sermon.” she held your lower back, guiding you back to your seats, you held the jacket in your hand, the cute boy who you always watched leave the church; the boy you’ve watched since you moved here— he gave you his jacket.
“so?” jake slammed his locker shut. “was i wrong and is little church girl a freak?” jay rolled his eyes at the boy. “this is why we tell you not to smoke before school.” jake shrugged. “just asking a question, she looked pretty flustered yesterday.” heeseung frowned. “yeah cause she was soaked.” jake began to cheer— the people in the hall just trying to get to class, looking at the chaos the boy was causing— everyone knew where his mind went. “not like that you idiot, her shirt was soaked.” The boy high out of his mind let out a oh; the kids in the hall.
“i didn’t even get a chance to talk to her, dumbass over there ruined it and her mother walked out.” heeseung grumbled. “i gave her my jacket though so she should be coming around soon.” sunghoon spoke up. “that’s if her parents didn’t make her burn it, thinking it was cursed with some demon.” The group of boy erupted into a fit of laughter. “shut up.”
you sat your things down at your desk; you always chose to sit in the back by yourself; you preferred it that way. “hello pinky.” heeseung sat down next to you with a smirk. “wh-what are you doing?” you stuttered, he never came to first period, you started to forget he was in this class. “wanted to see what was so special about the back seat.” he shrugged. “its nice back here, might have to sit back here for now on.” he tilted his head. “that okay pinky?” you nodded, unable to speak, afraid of what would come out.
“i-i ha-have your jacket.” you said. “it-it’s in my locker, i can give it to you after school.” you could barely look him in the eye, he liked that, gave him a sense of power. “okay.” he smiled, the bell ringing, he stood up, your eyes following his tattooed arms. “whe-where are you going, class is starting, your not staying?” your eyes wide with curiosity, you looked so cute starring up at him.
“oh im not staying.” he said, watching your lips form a pout. “oh.” he smiled, did you want him to stay? “don’t be too upset baby, i just came to see you, i’ll see you later for my jacket.” your mind short circuited upon hearing him call you baby; he chuckled, watching you stumble over your words. “i’ll come find you yeah?” he said, you nodded. “good, i’ll see you then baby, enjoy your class.” you gave him a small wave as he left out the class, smiling to yourself, like a little girl given a new doll— a cute and tall and seriously tatted doll.
he had it all planned out— after a five minute curse out from jake for ruining his plans for “a girl who wouldn’t give you the time of day” — his words; heeseung ignore the boy, he finally got away from them, making his way back to the school, just in time to make it to the final bell, standing by your locker, waiting for you. “he-heeseung.”
“told you i’d be back didn’t i?” you shyly nodded, opening your locker. “h-here.” you pulled out his jacket, handing it to him. “you keep it, give it back to me when i drop you off.” Your eyes widened. “ta-take me home?” you shook your head. “my sister is home, if i show up with you she’ll tell my parents.” you frowned. “im not allowed to be with boys alone, especially.” you trailed off. “boys like me?” you nodded. “im sorry.”
“don’t be baby.” he said. “if i was your dad i wouldn’t want my precious baby being dropped off by a guy like me.” he said, lifting your head up by your chin looking you in the eyes. “he’s a smart man baby.” you felt your knees about to give out with the way he was looking at you. “w-will i see you at church?” he chuckled. “will you speak to me?” he kissed your cheek, your eyes widened. “don’t worry baby i’ll see you.” he let your chin go. “don’t miss your bus baby.” he said, closing your locker for you. “th-thank you.” you walked away, cheeks burning, his jacket still in your hand.
“you disobeyed me child.” your mother opened the door as you got ready for church. “what do you mean?” she opened the closet, pulling out the jacket you were meant to give back to heeseung days ago. “i strictly told you to return him his jacket and then you were to leave him alone.” she tossed the jacket to the floor, you picked it up, holding it to your chest. “what is this you’ve been accepting rides from him?”
it's true, after that day heeseung ask you again; and you agreed only if he dropped you off a few blocks from where you lived. “hanseuls mother saw you get out of his car, how long did you think you could hide this?” she shouted. “he’s a nice boy mother.” you said. “nice boy?” she scoffed. “you see the way he looks, hear the way he acts, he’s no good and he’s damned to hell.”
“i like him mama!” you shouted, it was the first time you shouted at your mother; it felt good. “has he done something to you, to make you act like this, has he tainted your soul?” you were frustrated. “mama are you asking if we had sex?” she gasped. “no we didn’t , he’s respectful.” You’ve never seen your mothers eyes widened. “what has gotten into you child? wait until your father hears of this.”
“nothing has gotten into me mother, but im 18, i am old enough to make these decisions on my own.” you said. “i’ll be off to college soon and i know nothing about anything, it’s like im stuck in a kids mind.” You said. “yn i- im not a child anymore.” you clutched heeseungs jacket. “stop treating me like one.”
the ride to the church was what you expect, your parents yelling at how you were pretty much damned to hell along with heeseung; that he was gonna lead you down a path of horrible decisions , to which you just starred out the window, blocking out the screaming until you reached the church.
you saw heeseung sitting outside the church inside his car, a crowed of people walking into the church— now it was your chance. “there he is im gonna get out and tell that degenerate to leave my daughter alone.” not if you could stop it; as soon as he stopped, you quickly open the door, running across the parking lot ignoring your mother and fathers calls.
you opened the door to heeseungs car; his eyes widened. “yn.” he saw you heavy breathing. “whats- please drive.” you looked out the window, your dad angrily approaching the car. “uh shit, he found out.” you nodded, he started the car. “please drive now.” your dad was about to knock on the window when heeseung sped off, leaving a cloud of dust in the wind. “shit.”
“my parents are gonna kill me.” he said driving down the street, you could no longer see the church. “screw my parents, your parents are gonna kill me.” he turned to you— you were starring out the window, much calmer than before; he smiled. “i can roll the window down if you want.” you nodded, he rolled the window down, the warm air hitting your skin, the sun shining down on your body. “it feels nice.”
“so little runaway, where to?” he said, you shrugged. “you ran away without a plan? rookie move pinky.” He teased. “it was my first time, and its blue today.” he smiled as your eyes widened; you clearly didn’t mean to tell him that. “good to know.” he said. “well you’ve already ran away and according to your dad committed 666 sins, what’s a few more?” he said. “lets go see my friends.” he did a u-turn, placing his hand on your thigh. “this okay with you?” you nodded, so he kept it.
you pulled up to a house, much bigger than yours. “jays parents are loaded and are hardly home.” he said. “this is where you always sneak off to when you should be in school?” he laughed. “little miss runaway judging me now.” you pouted. “cheer up pup, we’re gonna have fun i promise.”
“put that on.” he pointed to his jacket that you’ve been holding this time. “why?” you asked. “because i told you to.” He looked down at your outfit, your pretty white dress, these guys get off on girls like you for fun and he’ll be damned if he loses you to jay or worse— jake. “fine.” you put the jacket on. “how do i look?”
how did he tell you that you wearing his clothes made him want to take you back to his car and fuck you until the block knew his name. “you look cute.” he grabbed your hand. “will your friends like me?” you looked at him. “maybe a little too much, it kinda makes me not want to bring you in.” he said, holding your chin with his other hand. “you’re too cute for those guys to even look at.” he kissed your cheek, you giggled in response. “stop it.”
heeseung didn’t bother knocking on the door, just walking in. “his house is nice.” you said. “don’t tell him that, he hates it.” you nodded as he guided you throughout the house. “we usually hang out downstairs in his basement.” he said opening another door. “yo , jay!” he shouted. “down here heeseung.” he turned to you, fixing his jacket so it covered you. “they’re harmless most of the time, don’t worry.” he went first, still clutching your hand as you went down the steps.
“how was church?” you heard them laughing, the smell of marijuana hitting your nose. “what chapter did you learn today?” heeseung rolled his eyes. “dumbasses look up from the weed.” they turned to you, falling silent— you squeezed heeseungs hand, squeezing it. “hi.” you smiled, waving.
“yall see her too right, this not a bad trip.” all the boys turned to the boy who was laid across the couch in the fully done basement. “shut up jake.” heeseung guided you to the single couch. “sit.” he tapped his lap. “o-on your lap?” he hummed. “yeah.” he said. “or you could sit next to jake.” The boy smiled, obviously high. “i don’t bite.” jay laughed. “you just bit sunghoon.” heeseung pulled you by your waist, you yelp falling into his lap.
“yn would you like something to drink?” jay said. “jay has sodas upstairs, i can go get you one.” jake said attempting to stand. “is he okay?” you questioned. “jake? yeah, he’s under the influence baby, don’t worry about.” heeseung said, the grip on your waist becoming more tighter. “baby?” jake said. “shut up jake, don’t worry yn i’ll go get you a soda.” jay stood up, walking up the steps.
“so how did heeseung get you here, it is sunday after all?” sunghoon asked. “you are here on your own will right?” you laughed, heeseung scoffed. “she’s the one who ran away.” jake laughed. “you two are like romeo and juliet.” sunghoon shook his head in disappointment. “heeseung.” jake handed him off what you obviously knew was marijuana, that he’d been smoking and a beer. “no it’s fine, im good.”
“what your girlfriend is here and you’re trying to be a good boy.” jake teased. “jake.” jay warned coming back down the steps. “here yn i bought you a few.” you thanked him, opening one, taking a sip. “heeseung at least have a drink.” you turned to the boy. “you don’t have to hide anything, just do what you normally do.”
“you sure, i still have to drive you home.” he said. “you two can stay here for the night, heeseung normally does that anyway.” jay said, you smiled thanking him. “well then i don’t mind, my parents will have my head anyway.” he laughed, jake held out his hand containing the lit up substance. “you know you want you.”
so he did, letting himself get comfortable after a few puffs and a few beers; he was much more laid back, his legs were more spread apartment; man spreading— his hands low on your waist. “so yn are you and heeseung dating?” jake asked. “uh— yeah we are.” heeseung sat up straight, now his hard chest was pressed against your back. “chill bro, she’s all yours.” jake took a sip of his drink. “you got any pretty church friends?”
“jake put the weed down, it’s time you sobered up a bit.” jake slurred his words. “but im sleeping here.” he pouted. “doesn’t mean i want to take care of you.” you smiled, watching the boys fight the other to stop drinking and to take a sip of water. “whats so funny baby?” you felt heeseung rest his chin in between your shoulder blades. “your friends are really funny.”
“you think?” you didn’t notice to shift in his voice. “you okay?” you asked, feeling him continuously shift in his seat. “am i too heavy i can go sit on the couch.” you let out a gasp, feeling his arm wrap around your waist. “don’t move.” you finally heard the deepening of his voice. “you feel good.”
heeseung could normally control himself, but between the weed and alcohol running through his blood— the fact you’d been moving around in his lap for the past 3 hours, it was safe to say he was fully rock hard. “ar-are you getting sleepy?” you stuttered, you knew what he wanted, and you were ready— you wanted him to take your virginity. “heeseung knows where the guest bedroom is.” jay said.
“lets go to bed hee.” you stood up. “okay.” he stood up, still holding your hand. “its nice to meet you yn.” jake said, sunghoon sitting on top him trying to force water into the drunk boys mouth. “yeah good night.” the boy huffed, fighting on top of the other. “night.”
you made it to the room, opening the door. “come.” heeseung flopped down on the bed. “come lay with me.” he whispered; you kicked your shoes off, shredded yourself of his jacket; joining him in bed, sitting down. “no baby.” he chuckled, pulling you down next to him. “i want you to lay with me.”
his face was so close to yours, laying on yourside; his cheeks red from the beer, eyes matching from the weed. “so cute baby.” he fingers traced your jaw. “so cute, you ran to me today.” he whispered. “i like you heeseung.” you held his hand as he caressed your cheek. “oh baby i like you too, so much.” His breath hot against your face, making your breath hitch. “you wanna kiss baby?” you nodded, he closed the small gap.
his lips felt dry against your soft ones, but it didn’t bother you— especially with the way his hands was slowly pulling up your dress, you hips desperately trying to chase his fingers. “slow down baby.” he laughed against your lips. “i’ll give you whatever you want.” he finally found your panties, his fingers touching your clothed cunt. “just let me do everything.”
he was now on top of you, his knee in between your legs. “let me take care of this pussy.” you whimpered at his words. “heeseung.” his hand stroked your cunt. “gonna eat you.” he pushed your dress above your waist. “lets get you out of these, they’re all ruined anyway.” he pulled your panties down, almost moaning at your untouched cunt. “fuck baby, you’re so tiny down there.”
“st-stop it.” you covered your face. “don’t hide this pretty face.” he removed your hands, kissing your cheek. “i wanna see your face when i make you cum for the first time on my tongue.” soon he was face to face with your cunt. “you smell nice baby.” you let out a soft moan as he kissed your cunt. “heeseung.”
he held your thighs open, his nose brushing against your clit. “fuck heeseung!” you moaned out. “language baby.” he chuckled, licking a fat strip against your heat. “my baby doesn’t use bad language.” he pinched your thighs, diving right into your cunt, eating you up like he’d never tasted anything in his life.
heeseung was in heaven, he was no longer intoxicated because of the alcohol or the drugs— it was you; you were consuming his every being, your sweet cunt dripping into his mouth, your soft moans, your tiny hands pawing into the bed sheets desperate to hold something as he sucked on your poor clit. “heeseung it feels funny.” you moaned out. “stop please.”
he forced himself away from your heat. “that means you’re gonna cum baby.” he kissed the inside of your thighs. “don’t you wanna cum on my tongue.” you whimpered out as he kitty licked your clit, the feeling soon returning. “i-i feel it again.” you moaned, he hummed out in approval. “heeseung im gonna cum.”
the feeling was euphoric, your body felt like it was floating, your legs wrapping around his head as you came, he had to undo your legs from his head, as much as he wanted to die in between your cunt, he wanted to be first one to fuck you. “that felt good baby?”
you nodded, he took his shirt off tossing it across the room. “you want something better, you want my cock baby?” you nodded, he lifted your dress over your head, leaving you in your blue bra. “gonna take this off okay.” he unhooked the bra, letting it fall. “so pretty.” his cock twitching in anticipation, desperate to fuck you. “pretty tits.”
he toyed with your nipples, squeezing your mounds, using his other hand to unbuckle his belt. “you wanna see it baby?” you nodded. “ye-yes please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, never been fucked before, you were ready to feel it. “wanna feel it inside.”
he groaned at your words. “fuck baby you don’t even now what you’re asking for.” he quickly pulling his pants off, letting his cock free, your eyes widened, you’d never seen one before, but he was definitely big and thick. “don’t be scared baby, touch it baby.” he guided your hands down his abs, groaning as you made contact with his length. “fuck baby, wrap your hand around it.” You obeyed. “good girl, now stroke it some.”
it felt heavy in your hands, he held the himself up on the headboard as you stroked him. “fu-fuck baby if you don’t stop im gonna cum.” he cursed. “let me put it in.” you let him go, he positioned himself in between again, letting his cock slap against your stomach. “its so big.” he smirked. “yeah?” he grabbed the base of his shaft. “gonna take all of it?”
he pressed his leaking tip at your entrance, you whimpered. “don’t be scared baby.” he slowly pushed inside you. “go-gonna be gentle.” his voice quivered as he forced himself not to stuff you full of his cock— he didn’t want to hurt you, but your cunt was sucking him in. “fuck baby your pussy is swallowing my cock.”
it felt uncomfortable the sudden intrusion, his cock slowly filling you up. “heeseung.” you whimpered. “i know baby, i know.” he pushed the last few inches in. “its in baby, you took me all.” he kissed your forehead. “good job baby.” his voice quivering due to your cunt squeezing his cock like crazy. “fuck baby, calm down my dick feels like its gonna break.” he grunted. “m'gonna move now.”
he slowly moved , dragging his cock along your walls. “fuck.” he cursed. “i love this cunt already.” he groaned. “so glad i was the first one to feel you.” he started to move his hips. “you feeling good baby.”
“so-so big.” You moaned. “c-can feel it in my st-stomach.” fuck— you were gonna kill him. “pl-please go faster.” he picked up the pace, the sounds from your cunt getting louder, right along with your moans. “don’t cover your mouth, let them hear you.” He grabbed your wrist. “let them hear how i fuck you.” you moaned out louder as he sped up. “i feel you tightening around me baby.” he hummed. “you gonna cum for me?”
you nodded. “good girl cum all over my cock, make a mess for me.” you let a few gasp, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came. “oh fuck.” he moaned. “you pushed me out when you were cumming.”
he rubbed his shaft along your swollen pussy , trying reach his high. “fuck, fuck baby gonna cum all over this tiny pussy.” he moaned. “fuck you’re mine now, no else can feel this pussy, it’s mine; gonna mold it to only take my cock.” you felt another high cumming, your cunt twitching. “you cumming again?” you nodded. “fuck me too, cum for me, one last time.”
Your legs shook as you came, he cursed stroking his cock until he came, coating your cunt in his seed. “there you go baby -fuck- cum for me.” cum dripping from the tip of his cock.
“fuck you’re so pretty; my pretty pretty baby.”
“fuck my parents are gonna kill me.” he said the next evening. “if the cops already aren’t waiting for me at your house to arrest me for kidnapping.” you pouted, you wish you could stay at jays with him and his friends. “don’t be sad baby.” he said. “just gonna drop you off, i’ll see you tomorrow i promise.” he said. “i don’t even have a phone to call you.” You said, your parents didn’t allow you to have one.
“take mines, i have another.” he said. “really?” he nodded pulling up to the street right before yours. “i’ll call you tonight alright baby?” he grabbed your face. “answer when i call.” he roughly kissed you, this kiss much more passionate, full of fire. “okay heeseung.” You got out the car. “you better answer my call baby.” He blew you one last kiss before watching you run down the block.
speeding back to his house so he can quickly deal with his parents, and then locking himself in his room so he spend the night talking to you.
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©️LUVYENI
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batterygarden · 7 months
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love is in the air . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
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contents: big bro! yuuta x fem & afab reader, dead dove do not eat, sex pollen, incest, virginity loss (reader), drugged sex vibes, unprotected sex w cream pies, size kink w slight pain, oral f!receiving, overstimulation, dacryphilia, 3.2 k words. hbd to my king
18+, minors dni please
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When Yuuta’s teleported into his room, he’s horrified to see you already there. 
You’re wearing his clothes, as per usual, and flopped across his bed while you do your homework—likely waiting for him to get home to help you with the math. Normally, this wouldn’t be out of the ordinary; the two of you have always been close and Yuuta doesn’t mind the way you tend to loiter. The thing is, you were supposed to be out shopping with your girlfriends after class today. You’ve been talking up these plans all month–-Yuuta never imagined you’d cancel.
And here he is, high off his ass on cursed aphrodisiacs (misted straight into his lungs by some flower monster) and contemplating every forbidden fantasy in his arsenal with a newfound urgency. 
You jump nearly a foot in the air when you see him, so perfectly still and silent at first that he goes unnoticed.
“Oh my god, nii-san! You scared me!”
You don’t seem to catch how off he is yet, how labored his breaths come or how he’s covered in a sheen of sweat. He wishes you would. Maybe then the proper alarm bells would be ringing and you’d leave. 
Yuuta only backs away, shoving hair from his face while his eyes dart all over the room, anywhere to avoid drifting to your body and the way his t-shirt pools around it. 
His fatal mistake is his failure to beeline it straight out his bedroom door. In his defense, Yuuta’s thoughts are awfully foggy, and an escape route is hard to pin down, even within his moderately-sized room. Instead he trips over a book bag and lets himself tumble backwards to the floor, his katana thunking loudly when it drops from his shoulder.
His vision and hearing are a bit foggy, too, as he watches you approach him off his bed, almost appearing to move in slow motion. 
“Nii-San? What happened to you?” 
He makes a strangled sound when you reach to touch his face, leaning away from your hand. 
“Just lost my balance! I’m okay. Y’shouldn’t touch me right now.” 
Did his words come out slurred?
You frown, letting him know the fall wasn’t what you meant when you were asking, practically pinning him against the wall to feel his forehead.
“Hmm. I can’t tell if you have a fever or you’re just hot.” 
“It’s probably nothing. Was fighting a curse earlier and—achoo!“  
Yuuta turns away to sneeze just as you move your head to the side to look at him closer. He accidentally sneezes directly into your face, earning a little gasp. 
He scoots away frantically then. 
“Sorry, sorry! I don’t wanna get you sick, okay? I need to be alone. You can leave.” 
You wipe at your face, holding back a giggle at the state of him. You haven’t seen Yuuta this impaired since he had the flu when you were kids.  
“Nii-san, you need me to take care of you.” Your tone is matter of fact, but doting too. Deep down you’re relishing in this role reversal—Yuuta’s always the one looking after you, not the other way around.
He starts shaking his head, rubbing tiredly at his eyes when suddenly a wave of vertigo hits you. 
Then you’re tumbling to the floor with him. 
Your voice sounds far away when you breathe a little woah, taking longer than you should to register what’s just happened. When you do, you turn to Yuuta—a reflex whenever you’re hurt or something goes wrong—you’ve grown spoiled by his overprotective nature. So much so that even the tiniest stumbles have you expecting a warm, calloused hand beneath your elbow, lifting and steadying you. 
Yuuta takes longer than he should to come into the focus of your eyes, and when he does you find his face buried in one of his hands while his other adjusts his pants. 
“Are you okay?” He sounds breathless, making no move to touch you or help. Something is seriously up. 
“Mhm. I don’t know why I just…” You pause, almost forgetting what you’re even saying while your thoughts navigate a new fog. Suddenly you’re warm. “I dunno what came over me.” 
Yuuta only scoots a bit farther away in response, dragging himself along the wall. To you it’s almost like he’s moving in slow motion. 
“Nii-san, something is wrong. I feel wrong.”  
Yuuta’s breaths come in huffs when you drag yourself to him then, nuzzling your way between his bent legs.
“M-me too… that’s why I want you to go.”
You shake your head, staring at Yuuta while he stares back, squirming and uncomfortable under your gaze. The warmth inside you is starting to grow uncomfortable—almost painful between your legs. You wonder if this is exactly how Yuuta’s feeling before you consider the possibility that he may be even worse, having been infected with whatever strange illness this is before he even arrived. He’s really working to hold out on you—what a gentleman.  
In fact, you think, that might be the perfect word to describe your sweet big brother. Always looking out for you more than anyone else, Yuuta sets a bar for chivalry unattainable by any man who isn’t him. 
He’s always opening your doors and offering you rides. Holding your hand to cross the street, tugging you back if you try to cross without looking and, occasionally, shoving your tangled fingers in his coat pocket if it’s chilly. He always has this protective nature when other men are involved, glaring at wandering eyes and warning you of potential danger (you recall one time he tripped some guy who asked for your number as he was walking away—he was too old for you and clearly had bad intentions).
Then there’s the way he’s thoughtful. Even when you were kids, Yuuta was always getting you gifts, setting time aside from his busy schedule to play with you or take you somewhere—forging some of your favorite memories growing up. You think particularly fondly of all your old dance recitals—how yuuta would always make time to be there and give you flowers and praise (out of all the bouquets your family supplied, his were the only ones that ever earned a spot on your night stand). 
Even now you’ve got a vase of pink roses in your bedroom down the hall for passing your latest algebra test. 
Yeah, Yuuta’s a chivalrous brother to a tee. 
And the heat in your veins has you wishing he’d be anything but. 
“Y-yuuta. I need you.” Your hands reach to pull at the open buttons of his uniform, but your wrists are quickly shackled by strong hands, gentle but unyielding. 
“Do you know what you’re asking?” His voice is steady for the first time since appearing in his room, albeit a little pained. 
“Yes. Yeah I do.” 
You scoot closer, and Yuuta’s entire aura seems to change, darkening in a way that leaves goosebumps crawling across your flesh. 
Your wrists are freed but you still feel immobilized as Yuuta grabs you carefully by the neck then, tugging your face to his till his lips can capture yours for the very first time. 
You can’t deny that you’ve fantasized about kissing Yuuta, if only on the rare occasions that you loosened the reins on your self control. The kiss feels as electric and all-consuming as you’d hoped, hungry like you’re trying to swallow each other whole. His lips are a bit chapped, rougher than yours and hot in a way you’ll surely imprint into your psyche. What surprises you, though, is Yuuta’s brashness; he’s not reserved like you used to imagine he’d be if he kissed you. He’s being selfish, sucking on your lips and licking inside your mouth like you’re his—and when his teeth sink into the plump of your bottom lip you start to realize that maybe you always have been. 
Yuuta’s kiss is needy and passionate, but it clearly doesn’t sate him as rough palms travel over your body throughout, kneading your sides and your arms and your thighs till you're rearranged on top of him, straddling where he needs you most. 
You’re instinctually grinding down on him once you are, your insides painfully empty and sensitive so that the hard feeling of him through his pant fabric pressing against your clit is the most satisfying feeling you’ve ever had. He’s quickly grabbing at your hips to help push your core against him, and that angle of pressure paired with his attentive mouth against yours has you cumming in minutes, crying out into his mouth while he grips you harshly like a ragdoll, eventually mouthing at your jaw and throat so you can breathe again. It’s the kind of orgasm that has your senses short-circuiting, your vision going in and out of focus while your hearing turns fuzzy—it’s intense and euphoric. You feel drugged.
It’s unnatural how you’re instantly needy again once you come down, panting and light-headed but impatient when you scoot back to reach for his belt. Yuuta’s hand stops yours.
“Hang on—”  
“Please! Nii-san, I can’t wait, I need you—” 
“I know, let me—“ he interrupts himself to peck your lips again. You want him to never stop doing that—the satisfaction is addicting. “Let me give you head first.”
Those words knock the wind from your lungs. Because now is the first time you truly reckon with a truth you’ve been avoiding… Yuuta is experienced. You don’t know who or when (as far as you’re aware he’s never had a steady girlfriend) but the way he says those words makes it clear. Yuuta has made a woman cum. The idea brings a wave of jealousy you usually keep carefully buried—it’s an unspoken rule yuuta doesn’t mention his romantic affairs, so the reality of his sex life is something you’ve avoided. 
“I’m a virgin.” The words bubble out of you uncontrollably. Yuuta chuckles just a little before giving another quick kiss. 
“I know. That’s why I’m gonna go down on you.”
The effects of whatever aphrodisiac you’ve been exposed to clearly haven’t waned as Yuuta manhandles you into a position of his liking before he finishes his sentence—neither of you have gained the common sense necessary to move yourselves off the floor to Yuuta’s bed a yard away. Yuuta’s still the most aggressive you’ve ever felt him as he lays you down, trailing kisses and occasional bites down your skin till he makes his way to his own boxers that rest over your hips. You catch a little glare when he spots them, a week ago he told you to stop borrowing these—you’re my little sister! It’s not appropriate. 
How ironic, he doesn’t chastise you as he yanks those very same boxers down his little sister’s legs. Then he tosses them aside—not even commenting on how you got them all messy—and instantly sets to work, lapping at your pussy like a man starved.
It isn’t an experience to be taken lightly—the first lick of your brother's tongue has you moaning like a pornstar. You have to grip the roots of Yuuta’s soft hair for stability as his mouth sends electricity through your body, pleasure radiating from your cunt all throughout you till you’re not sure you know what to do with it all. Once he latches to your clit, sucking it like a pacifier while his pretty lashes blink closed in content, you can’t help but come undone again—your orgasm intense and lasting even longer than the last time—this feeling is addicting. 
Yuuta licks up as much of your release as he can when you do, then he’s quickly rising up, wiping his face with an arm before tugging off his shirt. 
You feel like the luckiest sister in the universe when you finally come back to earth to watch him, his sculpted body glistening in sweat as he reveals more and more skin—all for you. 
Yuuta’s pants are tugged off next, but not all the way. He gets impatient once they’re low enough for his cock to be freed, stroking it shamelessly, coating it in the mess he made from cumming in his pants. 
Your eyes go wide when you see his size. 
“S-sorry I know t’s a lot. Are you doing okay?” 
There’s a silent but in there, an unspoken i still need more.
You nod quickly, spreading your bent legs so he has full access—it’s true that you’ve cum hard enough twice to pass out for days, but your body is insatiable. Yuuta’s cock is what it truly wants; you won’t—can’t—rest till you get it.
Yuuta’s wasting no time—clearly as needy for you as you are for him. He’s already leaning over you, running his tip through your folds before you can find the desperate words to reply, “Need you inside me, Yuu.” 
That’s as much confirmation as Yuuta needs before he thrusts, stretching your virgin hole till it molds to fit him. There’s a pinch, a sting that pricks tears in your eyes as you accommodate his thick girth, but it’s replaced by the pure relief of him in a matter of seconds. You whine when he bottoms out, your body clenching and grinding towards him of its own volition—again, you’re insatiable. Luckily Yuuta seems to be on the same page as he quickly pulls almost completely out of you, earning a louder whine before slamming back in, hitting a deep, warm spot that has your vision blurring. 
It’s ruthless and mean the way he starts beating your cunt then—you can’t help but contrast it to the way Yuuta rocked you in his lap just a night ago to soothe you through a scary thunderstorm. This man, the one snapping his hips against your hole with bruising force and no breaks, is a different man completely.
You want to meet him halfway, to contribute to creating the absolute bliss that his cock quickly brings you, but your body can hardly keep up once Yuuta gets going. He’s so fast and strong, the most you can do is lay there and take it, clawing at his shoulders and back in a way that matches his animalistic energy. 
Maybe a minute is all it takes before your body comes undone around Yuuta’s cock. Almost too eagerly and certainly the fastest you’ve ever cum before—it would be embarrassing if it weren’t for Yuuta’s loud, wanton moan at the feel of it. 
“F-fuck your pussy’s too tight! Why does it feel so—ngh good—“ Yuuta fills you up for the first time then, flooding your insides with his creamy seed before you even finish twitching from your own release. The heat of your big brother’s cum in your tummy is irreplaceable—you fall in love with the feeling and don’t want it ever to leave. 
Luckily Yuuta’s not done, he’s still hard even after he pumps you full, and his movements don’t relent, in fact it almost feels like he’s fucking you deeper. 
“Y-yuuta it’s so much…” you manage to say through the stuffed sensation that reaches your throat.
You’re still crazy with want, you feel like you’d die if he stopped, and yet your mysterious sex-craze does nothing to counteract the overstimulation. 
“‘M sorry, ‘m really sorry I can’t stop,” Yuuta pries your weak legs up while he talks, folding you up in a mating press. You don’t have the words to reassure him that it’s fine, that you need this, because then you’re coming undone again, throbbing wildly on Yuuta’s cock while your eyes roll back in your head. Yuuta cums with you shortly after, and something in you rejoices that he’s filling you with more of himself—that he’s irreversibly spilling into your most intimate parts. 
He pulls out after that, and your legs go limp—all of you lifeless except your twitching, leaking cunt. It’s a good thing Yuuta’s still needy though, because even if your legs lack the strength to hold him, your insides are devastated by the lack of him—it’s wrong that he’s not still inside you.
“Yuuta—“ you start to protest before he’s manhandling you, dragging you till you’re half draped across his bed, shoving your school books and pencils out of the way. It’s like you’re partially standing, bent forward with your tummy against the mattress, but you let your legs dangle limply while you lay, unable to hold yourself. 
“I know pretty,” he replies, spreading your messy thighs and cunt before shoving himself back inside you, “can’t be done.” 
The sound his cock makes is obscene as it spreads you open again, paired with the whine you let out at the sensitive feeling mixed with relief. The new angle yuuta reaches makes you feel stuffed all the way to your chest. 
Yuuta doesn’t waste time before he’s pumping into you as relentlessly as before, pulling easy orgasms from you again and again till your hips are bruised from his hands and his comforter is soaked with your tears and snot and cum. 
Yuuta’s crying too by the time he cums a final time, gasping and whining while he fills you with what feels like his entire remaining life force, eventually using the last of his energy to pull out with a wince and collapse on the bed, pulling you up so you’re all the way on the bed next to him. You both lose consciousness finally. 
When Yuuta wakes he’s under unusual covers, and finds his vision illuminated by a pink night light—it takes him a minute to recognize that he’s in your room. 
But he’s still naked. He sits up with a gasp, reaching for you as the events of evening come flooding back to him, but you’re nowhere to be found—he realizes you must have coaxed him in here for some reason then left. The clock beside him reads five in the morning, but considering how early the two of you passed out the night before, it’s not surprising you’d clearly already woken. 
Yuuta sips from a cup of water on your nightstand, then finds a used bath towel you’ve got hooked on your door and wraps it around his hips, venturing dizzily out into the apartment. 
He hears the laundry machine going, and passes his room to find his bed stripped of sheets, the mess from your school supplies cleaned up.
Then he finds you in the kitchen with wet hair, clean clothes and an apron, flipping pancakes. 
You look delighted when you see him—more than usual—with a sweet smile and giant pupils. 
“Yuuta! Made you breakfast.” You say making your way to him. 
Not that Yuuta’s had much time to think on it, (he wasn’t worrying over his future when your tight pussy was milking his drugged senses yesterday, that’s for sure), but in the back of his mind, he was sure that fucking you would have irreparable effects on your relationship. You’d always love each other, of that much he was certain—you had a mutual trust in that department for sure. But he was also sure things would be awkward, maybe you’d need space at first and wouldn’t look at him the same. 
But then you hop your way over to him once he walks into the kitchen, rubbing hands up his bare chest before locking your arms behind his neck, reaching up on tiptoes to kiss his lips. And it’s not just a peck, either. And the curse’s aphrodisiacs have worn off. 
And maybe, the irreparable effects from last night aren’t going to be so awkward after all. 
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bangtanshelves · 7 months
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JJK Fanfic Recos
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Hi. These are some of the fanfics I've read.
I've read A LOT but I'll only be including the ones I really enjoyed reading.
I'm in the process of recollecting them, please bare with me.
I'm also updating this post often, so whenever I end finishing a fic I like I just post it here. hehe
💓 - Fluff ❤‍🩹 - angst 🥵 - smut 🚨 - violence/drugs 🤪 - crack ⭐ - fav 🎣 - latest addition to the list
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. SERIES ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
My Love is Here - @/solemnreads
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (so much angst, I love it), 🥵 summary: "You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened."
Knife's Edge - @/readyplayerhobi
Completed ✅
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵, 🚨 The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?
Four Seven Eight - @/jiminrings
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (fic made me cry) ,🥵 you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.
Close to you - @/muniimyg
Completed ✅ ⭐
genre: 💓, 🤪 It should've been easier than this, right?In which oc and Jungkook sleep together and he can't get over it.
Falling Skies - @/fortunexkookie
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. Once upon a time, she had called you her sun and him her moon; it was fitting, given the constant push-and-pull between you two. You used to consider him a friend, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.
Please Love Me - @/ahunderedtimesover
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.
Lowkey - @/xpeachesncream
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 In order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, Jeon Jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the way of dating.
Hotter Than Hell - @/chateautae
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Jungkook, Lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he's unsure of. Embarking on his journey for the answers should've been easy, if it weren't for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. Kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover Lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and Jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
An Ode to a Broken Heart - @/smoochkooks
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: ❤‍🩹 (bro I've been crying over this fic for days), 🥵 (future smut)  you’ve watched jeon jungkook slip out of your reach your entire life. now it’s time for you to finally move on, bury the past and open a new chapter. however, you’re doing it in your own, unconventional way - by publishing anonymously a novel about your miserable relationship.
Mutual Help - @/personasintro
Ongoing... ✍ (this is also posted on AO3)
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 (damn... that's all i can say)  in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
Way Back Home - @/solemnreads
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (please i really love angsty fics, fite me), 🥵
"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is" he asks you with tears in his eyes. You look down at the sight of your son with an oxygen mask on his face while your daughter is sleeping on the couch near the wall. You look into his eyes, broken, and sad. You've dreamt of this day for years, wondering how he would react. But here you are, hoping he could've meet the twins under different circumstances. "Yes... they're your children."
Strawberry Kisses - @/pixieknj
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 (Chapter 1 has been posted, but its something else) Jungkook is notoriously known as a f^ckboy who doesn’t eat p^ssy, until he finally gets alone with you…
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. ONE-SHOTS or TWO-SHOTS ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
The Right Choice - @/honeytae
Genre: 💓 for as long as you've known Jungkook, you would think that you're witnessed all sides of him. But when you notice the way he's looking at you right now, you think you may be wrong about that.
Rainy Days - @/rklve
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Your life choices left not only yours, but Jungkook's hear broken in pieces. Now you're back in town, and just like Pluto, even if its cold and dark he tends to orbit around his sun forever.
High Demand - @/bunnyhugs77
Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🚨 A modern day Romeo and Juliet
SOJU - @/hoseoksluna
Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.
Lost & Found - @/kooktrash
Genre: ❤‍🩹 (if you squint), 🥵 your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.
Bottle Up Old Love - @/wintaerbaer
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
Pink Sapphire - @/jiminrings ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹(please I'm a sucker for this) ,🥵 Having Jungkook as a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. Your relationship's perhaps become so easy that Jungkook doesn't think sometimes— and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.
Will it fit? - @/jeonsweetpea
Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🤪, ❤‍🩹 (just a little bit) So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can't exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom...
Break up with your Boyfriend - @/spideyjimin
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook, the campus fuckboy, has decided to make you his next victim, but you're far from being like any of his previous hookups. You're not single. You're actually in a very long-term relationship with Baekhyun, the man you consider the love of you life, but it's for sure something that won't stop Jungkook. He wants you, and he's going to do absolutely everything to have you, even falling in love.
Paint me naked - @/gimmethatagustd
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he's not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?
I hate you, I love you - @j/ungblue 🎣
Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends... and you're absolutely in love with him; he's in love too—just not with you.
How to Get a Guy - @/taeshobipop 🎣
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Star basketball player Jeon Jungkook has a reputation as the ultimate fuckboi. He's loved by everyone. Everyone. And you would have followed suit if he had not broken all your strict Roommate Rules™ within the first week of his stay. Jungkook, on the other hand, thinks you're absolutely bizarre. But there's a silver lining— Mr. Fuckboi here knows basketball captain Min Yoongi, your dreadfully clueless crush. He strikes up a deal with you: he'll teach you the ways of flirting if you lessen your load of rules (so Jungook can continue persuing his way through the ladies on campus). Yet the longer Jungkook spends with you, the more he realizes that maybe he doesn't want to tbe the campus fuckboi anymore. The problem is, how does he prove that to you?
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calisturniolo · 6 days
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☆ COKE AND VODKA
summary. . . while at one of chris’ frat parties, he takes a shot of vodka and a line of cocaine off of your body as he is head-to-head with his frat friend at who can do it quicker off their girlfriends
pairing. . . frat boy!chris x fem reader
warnings. . . cocaine, drug use, alcohol
a/n. . . this is ass but i really want to post more
chris walks over to you, a cola and vodka in one hand, a small plastic bag in the other.
“hey baby, i gotta ask you a quick favour and you can’t say no” chris says as his one of his frat bros stands next to him, watching you and chris.
“what’s up?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow slightly, a little scared for what he’s going to ask you to do. you can feel his friend staring at you, making you feel slightly uncomfortable.
he smiles, knowing you aren’t going to like this answer one bit, “i need you to do a challenge with me” chris answers. his friend pulling out his phone to time chris and you can tell it’s going to be something really stupid.
you dart your tongue out to swipe over your glossy lips, “what’s the challenge though, chris?” you question.
“take a line of coke and a body shot off you.” chris says, his arm wrapping around your waist pulling you closer before before friend interrupts.
“and the loser has to give the other $100” he chuckles. chris’ grip tightens on your hip.
“seriously? so you’re taking coke and a body shot off my body?” you ask, looking between the two boys who are looking at you.
chris’ friend nods and chuckles, “yep. you got a problem with that?” he laughs, looking you up and down. chris’ eyes narrow slightly at his friends comment.
you were taken aback by his reply slightly, “um, no i don’t. just an odd request. but what do i get out of it?” you ask, licking your lips again before taking a sip of the vodka coke in your red solo cup.
chris smirks, knowing you’re always looking for something to be in it for you.
“fine, uh…” he thinks for a moment. he suddenly lights up, having an idea at what he could give you for a prize, “if i win, you won’t complain for a week about my habits. drugs, gambling, parties, everything.”
you mentally groan at this, “and if you lose, chris?” you wonder.
chris looks at you, narrowing his eyes slightly before glancing back at his friend, “if i lose” he says looking back to you, “i’ll take you out on a romantic date, wherever you want to go.” he laughs slightly, waiting for you to agree.
that sounded really nice since you and chris rarely went on dates, so you gave in, “fine. i’ll do it”
chris grins and walks you to the sofa and you sit down on the soft sofa. his friend pulls out his phone to time chris, as chris lifts your skirt a little higher to place the coke on your upper thigh.
“stop moving, sweetheart” chris says as he puts his cold hand on your inner thigh to stop you from moving about as he tries to set out a line on your skin.
he then picks up the clear shot glass, pouring vodka into it and placing it in your shirt, between your tits.
chris stands up and takes a step back to admire his work, his eyes slowly trailing your body before smirking, “perfect, hold still” he says, looking over at his frat friend with a cocky look on his face to make sure he’s timing him.
“okay, get on with it” you sass, wanting to get back to your friends and finish partying.
chris looks back at you with a smirk on his face, “someone’s impatient” he chuckles slightly, watching as his gets closer to you two. chris lowers his head and slowly brings it down to your thigh, placing one hand on your hip and the other on the side of your thigh.
he plugs one side of his nose as he snorts the white powder off your leg.
once he takes a deep breath, feeling the drug flow through his body. he leans up to your chest and moves your top down slightly, enough to give him space to wrap his lips around the plastic glass.
chris slowly brings his lips to the shot glass and wraps his lips around it, once he has enough grip on it he tilts his head back, letting the liquid fall down his throat.
once the glass is empty he lets the glass fall from his mouth, he looks down to you and notices some of the vodka spilled down your stomach, causing him to bite his lip.
he smirks at you, leaning forward and placing a kiss to your lips before turning back to his friend behind him “i done that in under 15 seconds” he says.
chris’ friend checks his phone and nods, “13 seconds, you won” he says, putting his phone back in his pocket, before grabbing his wallet.
“how long did it take you to do it off your girl?” chris asks, referring back to ten minutes ago when his friend took a line and a shot of his girlfriend the exact same way he did off you, “17 seconds” his friend replies, handing his a $100 dollar bill.
“im going to go get a drink” you say standing up getting ready to leave chris and his friend alone.
chris grabs onto your hip, spinning you around before you walk away and pulling you into a kiss.
you let your hand lean over his shoulder as you deepen the kiss. chris brings his hand up with the $100 bill in it and reaches down into your bra and stuffs the bill in there before disconnecting your lips, “that’s for you to buy drinks, love” he says, patting your ass before leaving one more kiss to your lips, “i love you” he whispers in your ear, grinning.
“i love you too” you smirk at him before walking over to your group of friends.
@calisturniolo
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toxicanonymity · 2 years
Text
Joel Miller Masterlist - NSFW
And other Pedro characters
Version 7/9/24 (new: the green) see series/collection masterlists for their updates.
Blog FAQ (updated 4/30/24)
⚠️ I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, reposted*, translated, made into bots, put into AI, etc. *reblogging is encouraged, using the 🔁 in the bottom right corner.
A reblog of this post will not stay up-to-date. Follow @toxicfics if you want notifs and @toxicrecs for fic recs. If you can't decide where to start, Buzzfeed quizzes are at the bottom 😅
⚠️ 18+ joel x f!reader unless otherwise noted. Darkness ratings (D - Darkish to Dark, DD - Extra Dark, DDD - ultra dark) are subjective and relative. dark doesn't automatically mean it has dubcon (DC) or noncon (NC), but many do (check warnings). The noncon I write is physically enjoyed by reader. Dubcon is often situations that diminish the ability to truly consent. Like drugs, captivity, or power imbalance, but in many dubcon fics, reader is willing or even enthusiastic.
🍒 innocent reader | 💤 somnophilia | 👴/🧔‍♂️ explicit age gap
MASTERLISTS - AUs, Collections, and Series
Night walks (AU) 👴 D, DC (drugs). hot, older pothead neighbor who talks dirty.
Raider Joel DD. NC (at first, via implicit threat), DC (stockholm syndrome). This is a big AU with lots of lore and interaction.
Silence can never be bought (dbf, AU)👴⭐ You catch him in a compromising position.
Left in Lincoln (dbf x virgin) 👴🍒 DD Your dads trust him to look in on you while they're gone.
Stepdad 🧔‍♂️D You catch him perving on your insta and start toying with him. You seduce him.
Slasher Joel DD DC - You're DTF but end up fcking for your life when you offend him.
Vampire Joel DC - he's been waiting for you for centuries and can't let you go once he finds you.
The Raid D, DC - Javi & Steve find you on a drug raid and take you under their wing, in a way.
Speakeasy (Collection, no plot) - Exhibitionist one shots and drabbles.
Thighs out (bf's dad) - Your bf strays and his hot, slutty dad makes you feel better, much better.
Brotherly Sharing - Several pairs of miller bros. including uncle tommy & leopard print.
✨Free Use - D, DC, 💤 👫
for survival (2003)
For Survival (1.4k) - Joel, a stranger, saves your life, you fuck during evacuation.
For Survival 2 (1.4k) - fucking in your sleeping bag trying to be silent.
dark mode!Joel ULTRA dark - DDD, 👫
Dark mode (knife)You activate Joel's dark mode for your own enjoyment.
Clicking (horny! joel -> dark mode) He won't stop when a clicker appears. You try to punish him.
just the tip D, DC (power imbalance) 🧔‍♂️🍒
Just the tip 🍒 he coaxes you into full piv.
surveillance (imagine) he watches you.
Just the tip (really) you've been trying not to fuck him and this time it's really just the tip.
VIRGINS
Aches, thoughts, and needs 👴🍒 outbreak
Night Talks 🧔‍♂️🍒 D, DC best friend's dad
Patrol - pt. 1; virgin patrol 👴🍒 DD, DC
Virgin sex worker (v loss) D 🍒
Ready for her ( part of Miller Bros)
See also, Lincoln series and Just the Tip above.
⬇️ ONE SHOTS, miniseries, misc⬇️
Post-outbreak
you almost die then get used D, NC, 👫
Possessive cum play D, 👫
Secret breeder!Joel Refuses to pull out D, 👫
Jealous of you/Tess (degradation) D, DC mean
Bone broth (consensual noncon) 👫
non-con while you sleep D, NC 💤
movie night (in public) 👫 Under a blanket
Caught DDD very mean Joel, ✨At the table
Lazaretto (NC. sex pollen)👴, PART 2, DC
caught masturbating (300) D
the old fashioned way (1k) D He breeds you
Pre/Non-oubreak/AUs
pawn shop (GILF Joel) ��D
canopy, pt 2 (caught) ��🧔‍♂️ dbf in your old bed
Fucking Joel at your dad's house dbf
Breeding couple ; Pregnant , 👫
in the ass like a good girl anal drabble
Window (peeping tom) pt.2 date next door D
caught Drinking ( DDDNE) 🧔‍♂️DDD, NC sarah's friend is punished
sleeping Beauty 👴💤, 👫 CNC.
that's the spot (masseur!Joel)
gas station skeeze (300) 👴
packing: butcher!Joel DD, DC
personal trainer , part 2 D, DC
daddy Joel ��🧔‍♂️, a day in the filth
miniseries: jalbird - cellmate's nephew
dark nurse!Joel (sex pollen imagines)
locket - DC best friends dad x dark! reader
HCs, imagines, other
Free Use / Objectification HCs - you can put Joel in different modes for your enjoyment.
Brothel Reality Show
✨Trucker Joel
Multi-Joel Art & Misc
Lmk if yours is missing, ✨section in progress✨
Joelkémon cards by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
JOELS AS CATS by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
Joel's as cats pt. 2 not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
Dick HCs - size, appearance, and more
random hot things from HBO canon
Joelkémon astrology by @wannab-urs
Mood board of joels by @milla-frenchy
joels as texts by @iamasaddie
Buzzfeed Quizzes
by @missannfairy & @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
Which Joel are you most compatible with?
Which Joel are you?
Which Joel to spend the holidays with?
Compatability: Valentine's Edition
Other pedro characters
Javi G. - Watch you watch him fuck his wife. Nick watches. You're Javi's wife.
Ezra - Sleep time: pt. one (250), two 💤(850) D You bait Ezra pt.3 Ezra strikes back. DC ; ✨ The Green
Javi P.
hunt and peck (2.7k) 6/30
THE RAID ongoing series
5K notes · View notes
lowkeyrobin · 7 months
Note
hi pookie can I get an mcyt with reader that bakes?? Like they'll just come in on stream and give mcyts a fucking platter of baked goods lol
-🎀 anon
oooo yes omg!! thank you 🎀 anon! <3 got the whole gang in here for this one LOL
MCYT ; "in my baker era"
includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, foolish gamers, slimecicle, & cellbit
warnings ; language, mentions of drugs
masterlist
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TOMMYINNIT
"Hi y/n- oh, thank you, darling!'
literally has the widest smile on his face
shows off the goods to the stream
"do these have any drugs in them? me n charlie are trying to sell drugs, y/n. we need more stock"
you hear charlie screaming through tommys headphones, "we need the grain, y/n! we need THE GRAIN"
bro is munching away on those cookies holy shit
he feeds chat as well dw
RANBOO
"Hey babe! Oh, thank you!"
does a whole 360 of the plate for chat 💀💀💀💀
"Oh my God, these are so fucking good"
"guys, y/ns in their baking era. can you write an album about that? please become Taylor swift for us"
"BAHHAHAHAH"
literally takes a picture as per usual and posts it to Twitter LMAO
he gets some fans to send you recipes you should try for a serious baking stream LMAO
BADLINU
"Hey love- oh, hi!"
all smiles and shit, he swears you have a sixth sense to know when people are hungry
"guys, y/n made me some bisexuality cake!" He giggles, showing off the tri-colored cake on the plate
he was making a video with harry, tubbo & tommy so everyone had their facecams on
it was like a three tier cake you made and cut out a slice for him
the inside was just the bi flag and the outside was plain white with some fun icing piper testing
he tries it and it's SO MOIST AND SOFT IT IS PERFECT.
there's just 5 raw minutes of him telling you how amazing this fucking cake is LMAO
QUACKITY
"Hey, I'm streaming ba- ohmyfuckinggodthankyou!!"
does a 360 of the plate for the camera
"Holy shit these look so fucking good, thank you so much, y/n"
he's literally just streaming on the qsmp with roeir and fit and he like games and eats the damn cookies at the same time LMFAO
"Dude I feel like I'm high, these are so good, what's in this shit?"
"cocaine"
"WHAT!? DID YOU JUST DRUG ME? GUYS, MY PARTNER DRUGGED ME, HELP"
you're just playing into the bit dw
best red velvet cookies he's ever eaten
CELLBIT
"Hey darling, what's up?"
you hand him the little strawberry shortcake and he just looks at you like 😍😍
turns to his stream and shoves the plate up to the camera all happy like "Oh my God look what they made for me!"
he eats the entirety of it on stream and asks you a bunch of questions
like how you made it, where you found the recipe, etc
he shares it with you too 💔🫶
NIHACHU
"Hi honey! Ooo, what's this called?"
"Chocolate mousse. it's a little thick because it's my first time making it but let me know if it's good"
she holds that little glass like it's her child
she tries it with a tiny spoon you gave her and she's like "oh my God this is amazing, y/n/n"
shows it off to the friends she's streaming with too
"send them more recipes guys, I wanna be spoiled with sweets!"
"thank you nikis viewers!! love you all"
FOOLISH GAMERS
when I tell you this man's face LIGHTS UP.
"you made me fudge? oh my God! I love you"
literally spends the next 15 minutes talking to you and gobbling the fudge down
"since when do you make fudge??"
"since I wanted to try" you shrug
"you should totally make some more... when you're not busy and if you want to!"
"Thank you y/n! everyone say thank you!"
SLIMECICLE
"Oh, hi y/n! thank you so much"
does a 360 for stream
"when did you find time to make this? I thought you were at work????"
"special treat" you shrug
you watch him run across the qsmp and go to ems bakery to sit inside and eat it 😭
he keeps you on stream for a while cause chat loves you n stuff 🫶🫶
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starkeygirlposts · 3 months
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Boyfriend turned Step-Bro Rafe Cameron x Reader
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FULL FIC HERE
Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.
This is a snippet of a fic I'm going to see if I want to continue writing. Please let me know if you'd like it to be continued.
I'm not diving too deep on details or character traits in this, as it's just a blurb/idea for a full fic.
Trigger warnings: stepcest, underage, drugs, pregnancy
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The Rafe Cameron who became your boyfriend when you were sixteen years old was not the Rafe Cameron who people referred to your step-brother at eighteen.
The complete opposite, really.
Your parents separated when you were in your sophomore year of high school, your dad moving across the country to California when he met his mistress on a business trip while you and your mom kept a tidy home. The affair nearly killed your mom, and she learned to lean on none other than your boyfriends dad.
Ward was the perfect fill-in for your mom for a while. She was just having a good time, she'd told you. "He occupies my mind Y/N, does that make me such a bad mom?" Like you being upset with your mother being however which way involved with your boyfriends dad was so out-of-this-world believable. Truth was, yes it made her a bad mom. Not just because it put you and Rafe in an uncomfortable position, but because you were struggling yourself after having your family as you knew it blown apart.
But she wasn't just "having a good time." Or rather, maybe she was having too good a time. Because on a Thursday evening at the Cameron's dinner table that you all had gathered for, Ward held your moms hand and told you all that they were getting married.
That day, your world fell apart, and Rafe started to become someone you soon would not recognize. Rafe's hand slipped from your thigh, gone the tender loving warm fingertips, drawing lazy hearts on your skin.
You looked over at Rafe before doing or saying anything to anyone else, and his eyes were higher than yours, connecting with his father's in an expression you could only imagine was pure hatred. Because Rafe could never live up to his father in any sense, and now he was taking away the one thing that kept his feet planted to the earth. Of course he was. You flinched when Rafe's chair scraped like nails on the tile flooring, as he darted from the table outside to his truck, leaving you to pick up the pieces. How badly you'd wanted to chase after him. But when your eyes connected with Ward's, the decision made for you.
You didn't even need to ask.
"Unless you want to live with your father in California, you and Rafe will stop whatever it is you two have going on." Ward had told you.
You looked to your mom as if she'd help you - feel some semblance of remorse for you. You'd met Rafe first. Three years ago. You'd been the only reason your mother even met Ward. But why should you be so surprised that what she wanted was more important than your happiness?
From that day, Rafe started slowly slipping from you. A hollow shell of the boy you loved so deeply and painfully. He'd drink himself to sleep every Friday and Saturday night, breathe cocaine on the other nights, and wave you off when you tried to ask him to slow down.
"Y/N, you want me to stop? To make you happy? What do you do anymore that makes me happy?" You'd touch his cheek and guide his head down to make his eyes meet yours, and you'd stare into them - hoping for a shimmer of your boyfriend to snap back and remember.
He'd shrug away from you, his hand brushing you off and leave you watching his back as he'd resume slowly killing not only himself, but you too. But his coldness didn't stop him from sneaking into your room past midnight to have sex with you. Not that you wish he'd stop, because you so badly craved his touch, eager for it any way he'd offer it. Mean, rough, kind, tender; you'd take any of him just to feel connected.
So when you'd texted Rafe to meet you in your room after dinner on Thursday night nearly one year after your world truly blew apart, hoping you'd get to him before the white powder did, he locked the door behind him and the black in his eyes told you he'd already gotten his fix. But your small hand came up to his chest as he approached you, seated cross legged on your pink floral bed spread, clutching the stick in your other hand. You looked up at him and when you locked eyes, he understood, because he took your hand from his chest and squeezed it in his own before leaning down to touch his lips to yours.
"I miss you, baby. My beautiful girl."
His breath was hot against your mouth, his scent so familiar and home to you. You couldn't stop the tears from falling from your eyes, your hand loosening from his hand to hold onto his forearm that connected to the fingers clutching your jaw tenderly but firmly in place, kissing you like he loved you again.
How badly you missed him, too.
"Rafe, please..."
Your hand falls and his breaks from your jaw, and you take this moment to capture his hand with your fingers and place the stick into his palm. His eyes break away from yours to look down at what you've given him, and you watch with tears streaming down your face as his brows furrow, his feet shuffling to back up and you brace yourself.
He doesn't do what you expect him to do, though. He stares so deeply down into his palm that when his eyes do reconnect with yours, confusion in his own eyes, his head tilting just the slightest and you're trembling, waiting for the shoe to drop.
"This...this is a -- you're..." His eyes screw up shut and he shakes his head like he's imagining things and he's crazy. "A baby?" He finally asks, looking up at you again and you can only nod.
"My baby?" He asks again, and you nearly scoff, because really? Was he kidding? Who else was sneaking into your room after midnight, invading your body and your thoughts?
"Yes, Rafe, I'm pregnant with your baby." You tell him, standing and he's still shaking his head, eyes bunching up as if he's being told the craziest thing in the world - because really, he is. But you've sat with this for the entire day and while your reaction wasn't as confused, you too felt the familiar disbelief.
You watch his chest rise and fall, deep breaths in and out before you're in a whirlwind and he closes the distance between you and pulls you to him, tucking your head underneath his chin, the back of your skull rested protectively in his large palm. His lips are at your forehead when he tells you
"I'm going to take care of it. They're not keeping me from my kid."
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AH, what do you think? My ask box is open for feedback. Please feel free to use it to ask for what you'd like to see from this fic!
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rafesslxt · 4 months
Text
✧.* 𝑭𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 | 𝑺𝒂𝒎 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒓𝒐𝒆
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summary: you and Sam have a secret affair while your bf is his enemy. when you call him to pick you up in that slutty outfit of yours, he shows you what you‘ve missed while partying. - based on this request
warnings: smut!, arguing, cheating, mention of alcohol, smoking, oral (on both), unprotected p in v, cum, choking, orgasm denial, breeding kink, 69 position, dirty talk, dom!Sam but still whimpering here and there bc you cannot tell me he wouldn't
words: 6,5k (bro WHAT) + it‘s 5am so sorry for typos i‘ll correct later
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"Don't tell me you're wearing that!" Sam's voice echoes through my room when he stares with jaw down at the dress I changed into. "Sam, it's none of your concern." I sigh, combing lightly through my curls so I don't separate them too much.
It was supposed to be a mistake, a drunken slip, a one time thing. It's been three weeks now and I can't force myself to pull away from the grip he has on me and I don't think he even knows how powerful that grip really is.
It's like I can finally breath again when I'm with him, even If it's never for long or outside our rooms. Currently he's at mine. He came over when I told him I'm getting ready for a party and well - one thing led to another and now he's sitting on my bed with his clothes back on (imagine it like in the picture at the top) watching me getting ready again.
"Are you gonna fuck him?" he asks, jealousy dripping from his voice. "No." I shake my head and glare at him through the mirror. I'm sitting in front of. Since I started sleeping with Sam I didn‘t let him touch me and Sam knew.
I notice him standing up from my bed and slowly stalking over to my chair. He leans down so his head is at the height of my ear. "| want him to fuck you, so you know I can do it better." he almost demands, suddenly tugging my head back with a hard grip on my curls I just styled so perfectly.
"Sam!" I hiss and roll my eyes at him while he still holds my head back. "You're gonna listen to me m'kay?" I gulp and loom at him through my long lashes, batting them at him. He leans closer again and I see his face upside down from my position.
"If you leave wearing that, then the second you come back I'll bend you over everything possible."
I feel the heat creeping up my neck upwards my cheeks, leaving a slight red tint behind. "You belong to me, don't forget that." he mumbles against my lips so soft that you could think he just said the most beautiful thing but his hard grip in my hair reminds me of the opposite.
I know he's obsessive, possessive, jealous. Kind of funny when you think about the fact that he's the affair with me having a boyfriend. And on top of that, his biggest rival. "Enemy" how my boyfriend James would always say.
James. He's the complete opposite from Sam. Mean, bully, rich, entitled, popular, typical jock. I forgot a long time ago why I am in a relationship with him in the first place.
I remember how he alway told me to stay away from Sam when I met him in the cafeteria in school for the first time. Not even a minute after James came and dragged me away from him, not without insulting Sam for speaking to me of course. I smiled at him apologetic, not understanding what was supposed to be wrong with him.
James said Sam's a lot into drugs and stuff but I didn't care. Half of the school is and as long as he's not harming others with it, I really couldn't care less.
I feel Sam's lips ghosting over mine, teasing me with with his hot breath. I love how he kisses me. It's always so full of life, passion and longing. When James kisses me it's just eager, sloppy and wet. Sam kisses like his life depends on it. As If he can't breathe properly but when his lips touch mine.
"Sam.." I breath out in a whiny tone. "Dress like a slut and I'll treat you like one. I don't kiss sluts." he whispers against my lips before pulling away and letting go of my hair. I sigh in frustration when he let's go of me and apply my blush with a pout on my face.
I hear him chuckle behind me, he probably saw the look on my face. "Don't pout angel, write me when you're on your way home later alright?" he grins at me, putting on his shoes and opening my window to climb out of it. I roll my eyes at him playfully, hiding a smile with it when I already feel the excitement in my chest knowing I'll see him later.
And with that he climbs outside and closes the window behind him, winking at me before walking away. It's a miracle to me how he tells me I'm a slut and how he calls me angel the next minute. He always does this, making me feel alive, giddy, like a fucking teenager.
Wait, I am a teenager. But I mean like a teenager with no experiences or one that never talked to a boy before.
I concentrate on my face in the mirror again, applying my favorite lipgloss before I take my purse and throw the lipgloss in it. "Bye Mom!" I shout through the house when I open the front door, hearing her calling me to have a good time and not come home too late.
I love her, she's not too strict and understands me, not forgetting how her life was when she was young like me. But at the same time she would kill for me and protect me from everything. It's a great balance. She trusts me and I don't overstep boundaries.
When I arrive at the party I dressed up for, I can already smell the alcohol and weed from a mile afar through my car window. I roll it up and park a few houses further away when I see everything full of cars.
But what did I expect right? It's James, I mean everyone in either jealous of him or of me because they wanna be with him. If they only knew how easy I would trade that ticket. So of course his birthday party would explode of people. He lives in a big house, his parent's house of course but I think he mentioned something of them being on vacation for two weeks.
I grab the birthday present that rots since two weeks at the backseat of my car and get out of it, making sure that I closed the doors properly. My stomach wrenched and the closer that I get the more my head is starting to get dizzy from all the weed clouds around me.
I greet a few people that I know, hug some of my 'friends' from our friend group and slowly get inside. The air inside is a little better but still smells like alcohol and sweat from the dancing body's in the big living room. "Y/N!" I hear someone shouting over the music. I turn around and notice James' best friend coming towards me.
"Hey Mike, how are you?" I ask him trying to be polite but the truth is the more seconds passed, the more I wanted to throw my gift at James and get the hell out of here. There was a time were I loved nights like these right I front of me. Where I was one of the dancing body's sweating and drinking, sometimes even smoking. But now I just felt so - out of place.. wrong.
"I'm good, I'm good. I guess you're looking for your boyfriend? He's in the backyard with the rest." I smile at him and nod, thanking him for telling me before I watch him disappearing back into the crowd.
I let out a deep breath. I got this. It's just one night. A few hours, right? And then I'll be at Sam's. God I have to stop thinking about him like that, he's just.. sex, right?
I walked into the kitchen, looking for something to normal to drink but of course they only bought alcohol. I took a red plastic cup and filled it up with tap water, taking a big chuck from it, trying to calm my nerves a little. Oh fuck it. I grabbed a whiskey bottle and filled my cup up with Pepsi and the alcohol in my hand. Yeah, that's better for calming nerves. I mean, I'm already here so why not try to have at least a little fun.
With the drink in my hand I leave the kitchen and open the glass doors t the back yard where James is supposed to be. And doesn't take me long to find him with 'the rest' how Mike said. 'The rest' is usually our friend group. I like them, I really do. But they're just.. not that deep. It's fun to party with them, go to school with them - well the ones that don't skip all of their classes, and maybe even talking about little problems like arguing with parents or fights with boyfriends and girlfriends. But that's as far as it goes.
Maybe that's the reason why I feel so comfortable around Sam. I remember the first night we had sex, he lit up a J afterwards and asked me If I wanted to. I shook my head and sat on my rooftop with him, watching the stars. I never talked to him a lot before, like I said James kept me far away from him, but still we talked abut everything that came to our minds.
Aliens, the universe, the stars, the whole fucking galaxy. How does everything work? Is the government telling us everything? Are there already people on our earth that don't come from here? Maybe it was the weed, but I don't think so. It felt natural to talk with him. Having a good laugh for the first time win months.
My heart starts to race when I think about that night with him. Sometimes I wonder If I'm - no. That couldn't be. It can't be. He would never also. Right?
I get thrown out of my thoughts when I feel two arms sliding around my body from behind. "Hey baby." a deep voice whispers into my ear. I know it's James. I smell his cologne and obviously I recognize his voice. His breath smells like alcohol, a lot alcohol.
"Hey James. Happy Birthday." I force a smile on my lips and turn around in his grip. He kisses me and cups my face in his hands, squeezing my cheeks together. "Thank's babe. Why are you standing here tho? Come on let'S go to our friends." He takes my hand into his and pulls me towards a little chill lounge where everyone sat with drinks or J's in their hands. "Hey guy's!" I greet every single one of them before sitting down next to my boyfriend.
"Here, for you." I smile at him and give im his present. "Thank you baby." he smiles brightly when he opens it and see's what's inside. "Hell yeah!" he grins and pulls out a pair of shoes. To be honest, I don't know what's so special about him but I knew he talked 24/7 about them with Mike and how hard they are to get to I asked a friend of my dad who had a lot of connections when it was about fashion.
"They are great, thank you baby." He gives me another kiss, sloppy and a little too wet. God how I missed Sam's lips and - no. "Yeah, no problem." I answer, trying to hold my smile up.
The night went by slow, my mind racing with the wrong thoughts when you're considering I'm sitting right next to my boyfriend. He has his hand on my thigh, and his other one around his red cup filled with liquor.
At some point I started to take drink after drink, probably not being able to drive later. I took out my phone, reading some messages I have gotten. Two from my best friend Lisa, who lives in New York, sadly, and one from Sam. My heart starts racing again so I take another sip from my drink before opening it.
"How's the party going?"
I try to hide a smile when suddenly a evil little idea gets to my head. Everyone around my was busy ding something so no eyes were on me when I took a photo of James hand on my thigh and send it to Sam with a little message.
"How I wish it was your's."
I bite the inside of my cheek when I wait for an answer, not expecting it to come as quick as it does.
"Is that you'r way of showing me how sorry you are for ging out like that?"
I swallow down the clump in my throat and try to ignore the bad feeling in my stomach. Is he mad? Was it a bad idea to send him a picture? I know he's a jealous type but I already have too much alcohol in my veins to be reasonable.
I lean backwards against the lounge I'm sitting on and take another picture. This time of my face and cleavage not letting a lot to the imagination. I bite down on my bottom lip and smirk into the little camera of my phone, looking up as innocently as possible.
"How about I show you how sorry I am later?"
What I don't know is how Sam's breath got stuck when he saw my message. He looked at it, imagining how he would rip that damn dress off and fuck me through the whole night. His hand wanders down to his hard cock, massaging it slightly through his sweatpants. A quite moan leaves his lips when he stares at the way I bite down on my lip. "Little minx." he mutters to himself when he closes the picture and let's go of his boner.
"Trust me, you'll be sorry. Have fun at your little party, angel."
With a smile on my lips I put my phone away again, grabbing my cup. "Why're you smiling like that? Who texted you?" the voice of James ask me, making me jump a little. "Huh?" I look up at him when he towers his head over me a little. " I saw you texting and smiling. Who texted you?" he repeats himself, a serious look on his face.
I sigh when I knew how this would go. I mean, he's right and If we're being honest, I'm cheating on him There's nothing romantic or noble behind this. He's right. But at the same time, he was jealous in a little meaner way than Sam is. I never cheated on James before and even two years ago when we started dating, he always accused me of cheating on him or texting other boys when in reality I've never done such a thing.
Oh, there even was a rumor once that he cheated on me with a girl from our friend group, Amanda. She's nice. But also knew it was true that she had an eye on James.
"Lisa texted me." Well, that wasn't a lie. "Oh yeah? And what made you smile about it?" he asks, glaring at me. I roll my eyes at him and look away, knowing he hates it. So I'm not really surprised when he pulls my face back into his direction and repeats himself again.
"What made you smile, y/n?" "Oh my god she's my best friend and lives in another state! I was just happy she texted me!" I groan annoyed and stand up from my seat, his hand dropping from my thigh. "Where are you going?" he calls after me but also doesn't make any attempt on following me so I ignore his words and walk back inside through the house and up some stairs that I know lead to a bathroom.
When I get inside I lock the door behind me and let out a deep breath. I pull my phone out of my purse and look for a certain name in my contact. I hold it against my ear when it starts ringing on the other side. Not even two rings later he picks up.
"What's up, angel?" Sam smiles into the phone. "Miss you.." I mumble into the phone, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub behind me. I hear him chuckling. "Then leave, it's that easy." "You know its's not." I argue, pouting while looking into the mirror over the sink. I run a finger over the corner of my mouth, taking off a little of my smudged lipgloss.
he sighs into the phone now too so I continue talking. "he's gonna ask where I'm going and then will insist on one of his friend bringing me home just so he knows I'm not going anywhere else. And If I go without telling him he'll literally stand in front of my house after at least an hour."
"Break up with him." he says. "What?" I gasp, surprised he said that. I mean yes it is obvious that I should but not one time one of us really spoke these words. "You're not happy with him and you'll never be. You should find someone where you are." Someone. I don't know if it's the feeling slowly creeping up my neck and spilling over after holding them in for so long or simply the alcohol but I only scoff and roll my eyes.
"Yeah, right. Someone." my voice sounds cold and distant, pissed. "Y/n was you know what I mean.." "No, Sam. Actually I don't" Silence. And another sting I feel in my heart.
"See you, Sam." I chuckle sarcastically and press the red button on my phone. Not a second later I hear someone knocking on the door. "Y/n? Are you inside??" I groan when I hear James voice. God why can't he just leave me alone.
I stand up from the bathtub and walk over to the door, unlocking it. "Oh, Mike." I say, realizing it's not James. "Uh- James told me to look after you." "Oh, great? And he couldn't do it by himself?" I scoff, pushing past his best friend. I hear him sigh too and walk after me. "You know how he is." "An asshole?" I state, looking at him. He just grins and shrugs. "It's fine. I just wanna be alone for a moment, okay?" "Okay." He nods slowly and leaves.
I really don't know why he's keeping up with James bullshit. He's way too smart and nice for all of this. Well, just like me.
Still annoyed I wander through the hall of this ridiculous huge house, scanning all these portraits and pictures on the walls. My parents are rich too, really rich but this is just.. hideous A family of 5 living in a house as big at the fucking White House.
My mind races with thought when I suddenly hear voices whispering and giggling. I knit my eyebrows and try to be as quiet as possible to hear them again. They lead me to a big door to which I press my ear against. I recognize the voices but I couldn't quite put my finger on who they were so nosy me slowly opens the door a little just to take a little peep.
I didn't expect to see what was I front of me. My boyfriend. And Amanda. Making out on a couch. "When are you finally breaking up with her?" I hear Amanda whine like the little bitch she is. "I don't know. I told you this is just a one time thing Amanda." he answers.
What is going on? "One time thing? You're telling me four months are a one time thing for you?" she argues back. What did she just say? Four months? I close the door and take a step back.
I mean I know I'm cheating on him too. I'm no saint. But fucking four months? At the same time, I go inside myself for a moment and try to feel anything. But nothing. Not a single tear, not a single ache in my heart. I feel.. relieved? Am I crazy? My boyfriend of two years cheats on me and I feel relieved?
I quietly walk back down the hall, back down the stairs to the party. It's over. It's fucking over. I feel a smile creeping up my face when I walk outside into the backyard again. "Hey y/n, everything good?" A girl named Jessy asks me. I smile at her, almost laughing. "I'm feeling as good as never before." A giggle slips out my mouth when I sit down and take another drink from the table. They share a few looks but I couldn't care less.
I take out my phone and open the chat between me and Sam. Just now I see he texted me right after our phone call.
You know what I meant y/n.
It's complicated.
Please don't ignore me.
Are you still coming over later? I miss you
Miss your tight litte pussy around my cock
I roll my eyes at the last message but chuckle.
Oh and I know you just rolled your eyes at that
Wanna see your pretty (your eye color) eyes roll back when I fuck your attitude out of you
I quickly type in my answer, sending it with no regret now.
Can you come pick me up Sammy? I'm drunk and I want you, please.
Of course angel. Where do you want me to park? The street before the main?
Just park in front of the house
He was surprised at my massage but shrugged it off.
Alright. Gonna be there in 30.
I tucked my phone away again, taking in a deep breath. The excitement crept up in my chest again. Now that I knew James cheated on me too, I had a much less guilty for doing it with Sam. Old me would have ripped her hair out when I saw her sitting on my boyfriends - ex-boyfriends lap. But you know what? Let her have him. I know he's bad in bed. Let her realize one day she's off better.
After only fifteen minutes I heard them coming outside together, giggling slightly before sitting back down and pretending nothing happened. I played dumb and smiled at James. "Hey, where have you been? I looked for you." Yeah, let him sweat a little. "Oh uh- I looked for you too, I've sent Mike to tell you." he grumbled, glaring at his best friend.
"Hm, weird. And why did you came outside with her?" I point at Amanda, who looks at me like a deer in the lights. "She uh- she helped me. She helped me looking for you.." he stumbles over his own words.
I just nod when I felt my phone vibrating.
I'm here. Drove faster.
I smile at Sam's message and stand up without saying a word. "Where are you going?" James asks, this time following me. Amanda and Mike stand up too, following him like fucking puppy's.
"Home." I say, shrugging with my shoulders without looking at him. " You're drunk. Let Mike drive you home, he didn't have that much." he tries. "Oh don't worry, my drive is already here silly." I giggle, my stomach tingling in the best way possible when I see Sam's car lights through the windows.
"What do you mean?" James asks me mad, walking a bit faster now to keep up with me. I walk through the living room again and then outside the front yard where I see Sam leaning against the passenger seat door.
Before walking towards him I stop and turn around. "James, it's over. I'm not mad at you okay? I did the same. I'm just so relieved that you obviously feel the same about our relationship." He looks at me dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?" I roll my eyes and laugh at his words. "Oh come on. I saw you and Amanda and I heard you too and don't even try to deny it please cause I'm fucking someone else too."
I see the anger creeping up his face, ignoring the fact that he's cheating on me completely. "WHAT? Who the fuck are you talking about?" Then it hits him. He looks at me and beside me in the distance, he recognizes Sam standing against his car.
"You've got to be fucking kissing me you dumb slut!" he starts shouting and insulting me but I turn around and walk to Sam. I notice him looking at me confused but I just straight walk towards him, push myself against him and kiss him with all the passion inside me, in front of everyone.
I hear James yelling in the background, Mike probably holding him back. Sam's lips move against mine, his hands wandering up my sides, gripping the flesh beneath his fingers. "Fuck, what's that all about huh?" he mumbles against my lips, pulling away slightly.
Out of nowhere I feel the heat pooling in my stomach, yelling at me to finally fuck him. "I want you Sam. Want you to fuck me stupid." I had to giggle, I can't stop it. God he has to think I'm ging literally crazy but he just bites his lips and pushes me inside his car, driving off with me.
"What happened in there?" he chuckles and gazes at me for a second before returning his eyes back to the road in front of us. 
"You'll never believe! When I hang up I wandered around the house and found him with Amanda, making out and her saying that they are fucking for four months now. And I - I just felt so free all of a sudden. No tear no anger, nothing. Just free." I ramble my words down, smiling the whole time.
"So I got you for myself now huh?" I don't know why but my cheeks burned like hell when he said that. Did he want me for himself? I mean yeah well who wants to share but like- does he want me or want me?
When we arrive his house, he parks in front of the house, helping me out of the car and inside the house. "Your Dad home?" I whisper to him when we walk up the stairs to his room. He shakes his head and grins devilish. "He's camping or something. Means you can be as loud as you want, angel." I bite my lip at his comment and rush upstairs with him, him basically throwing me onto his bed but upside down, so my head is at the edge of the bed.
"Remember what I told you If you go out in that outfit, I'm gonna fuck you over everything possible?" he remarks with his voice so raspy in my ears. I bite down on my lip again, nodding and trying to hide a smile but failing miserable. "This will be the last time you're laying on this bed for tonight." he grins down at me and leans down towards my lips, licking over my bottom lip before kissing me.
I hum against his lips when I feel him nibbling on mine. When he pulls away his breathing gets heavier. Is he just as excited as I am? He puts a hand on my cheek and strokes the skin with his thumb. "You're gonna be a good girl, angel?" "Hmm of course."
"Good, then do what I say, alright?" he half demands. I see him opening his belt, and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. "You got me so fucking hard you have no idea." he chuckles while pushing everything in the way down.
No matter how often I see his cock, it always amazes me again how big he is, his pretty pink tip leaking pre-cum. He takes a step closer to the bed again and grabs my arms, pulling me so much that my head hangs over the edge. "You're gonna suck my cock and maybe I'll play with you." I nod eagerly and open my mouth for him, ready to take him in.
He takes his dick into his own hand and rubs it teasingly against my lips, biting down on his own lip. I sneak out my tongue and lick off the salty essence from his tip, letting it slide over and over it again.
"Hmm.." then out of nowhere, he pushes in, almost choking me with it. His eyes roll back before he moves his hips, fucking my mouth without giving me a moment to get comfortable. "Shit, it alway surprises me how well you can take it. Let's see how far you can." he groans, pushing his hips deeper.
I try to breathe through my nose and concentrate on pleasuring him, hoping he would reward me for it. "I'm gonna fuck your throat baby, 's that alright?" he asks before pushing in deeper after I nod slightly. "Oh fuck.." he let's out a deep groan and closes his eyes. "I can see my fucking dick in your throat baby. God that's so hot."
His gaze wanders over the rest of my body until he sees my purse beside me, my phone fallen out of it. He leans forwards, choking me even more and takes it into his hands. I see him start taking pictures of it and smiling at them like a artist who just found his muse.
Tears start forming in my eyes due the feeling of him choking me every few seconds. "Fuck you look so pretty when you cry baby but that's your fault hm. Got outside like a little slut. Remember, you act like one, I'll treat you like one." he repeats himself.
I move my tongue up and down at the side of his cock, massaging the prominent vein he has. I hear him whimper slightly, his tough facade faltering a little.
He let's his hands wander over my body, massaging the flesh beneath my dress, pinching my nipples through the fabric making me whine around his cock. "Fuck you like that, right? Think I'm gonna reward you for listening so good." he slowly pulls out his cock and let's me catch my breath. I cough a little and swipe away the tears that started to run down my face.
He looks at me expectingly and raises one of his brows. "Thank you." I choke out to which he nods and leans over my body, pulling up the front of my dress. I hear him chuckle when he notices the wetness soaking through my underwear. "You get off on sucking my cock?"
His fingers ghost over my aching clit, teasing it through the fabric. I whine out loud and push my hips up. "Please, please touch me Sammy." "Hmm but I', already touching you. Gotta be more specific."
"Pleeease, need to feel your mouth. Please." never in my life would I beg any man like that. But for Sam to touch me I would get on my knees and start praying.
He pushes my underwear to the side and laps at my puffy folds, tasting me and groaning. "You taste so good.." then he starts sucking my clit and I almost faint at the feeling. I let out a silent moan, bucking my hips but he presses them down and slightly nibbles at my clit.
"Fuck Sam!" my scream echoes probably through the whole house. "Suck my cock again." he mumbles against my pussy, adding a finger and teasing my entrance with it. I grab his hard cock and wrap my lips around the tip, sucking on it with a lot of pressure. "Oh yeah.." he groans against me, sucking harder on my nub.
I feel his finger entering me slowly, then another one so it's two and curling them up just right. I let out a long moan around him, squeezing my eyes shut. I take him deeper until he hits the back of my throat.
He groans against my clit, making me moan around his cock because of the vibration. It's like an endless circle of pleasure.
He starts pumping his fingers faster, flicking his tongue over my clit like he knows every inch of my body. Well – he does.
Then I start feeling it, the fire pooling in my abdomen. My walls clench around his fingers, signaling him I'm almost there. He let's go of my clit and continues pumping his fingers. "Are you close baby?" he asks tauntingly and puts his thumb on my now sensitive clit, rubbing it without any mercy.
I cry out around his cock, tears running down from all the pleasure around me. Never ever did James make me feel like this just from oral. Then, right before I explode, he stops. Pulls out his fingers and let's go of my pulsing nub, even pulling his cock out of my mouth.
"Sam!" I cry, bucking my hips into the air. "That's for leaving in that fucking dress." he whispers, kneeling down so his face is in front of mine. I huff out some air, pouting when I lose my orgasm.
He grabs my should again and pulls me up, away from the bed. He pushes me towards his desk with a mirror on it, grabbing my neck. " 'm gonna fuck you from behind and you're gonna watch yourself in the mirror, yeah?" "Yes." I answer, leanin forwards, my upper body on his desk now. "Spread your legs." he commands and pushes them apart with his knee.
"Look at that, I don‘t even have to fucking touch your dress, you‘re such a little whore." he spat when he sees my dress isn't covering my ass anymore. A sudden pang hit's me. I look over my shoulder back at him and see him grinning at me, slapping my ass again but this time a lot harder.
I moan when his hand hits my skin, making him smirk even wider. "I should have known you're gonna like that." he pulls my underwear down and positions himself at my entrance. "Beg for it, wanna hear what a little slut you are for me."
"Hm yes your slut only.." I moan and wiggle my hips against him, hoping for some friction. "Please Sam, I need to feel you inside me, please. I've been so good, please." my begging is like music to his ears and before I can see it coming, he pushes inside me with one go.
"Oh fucking hell!" he groans loudly, his mouth wide open and his eyebrows pushed together. "Fuck Sam, I feel you so deep!" I whine, grabbing the edge of the desk. He starts moving his hips, slowly at first and then fast like never before.
The sound of his thrusts, his skin slapping against mine could be heard through the whole house together with our moans and groans. Thank god his Dad is camping.
His right hand finds it way around my throat, squeezing it just lightly to make me feel lightheaded. "Look at yourself." he demands. I bite my lip when I watch him through the mirror. I could see the sweat on his forehead, a few hair strands clinging to it. His eyes are slightly hooded from the pleasure he felt every time my walls massaged his cock just so perfectly.
"So fucking tight I swear If I didn't knew better I would think you're a fucking virgin." I love how dirty his words are, every time. "God, you're milking me." a little whimper leaves his lips when I squeeze my walls around him, the sound going straight to my core, making me clench even more. Like I said before, just a circle of pleasure.
"You know what's the best of it all? At first it was more about fucking his girlfriend, knowing she's coming around my cock. But now I have you all to myself and I'm gonna die before I let anyone else touch you ever again. You're mine now, angel." he pants and Strats to move his hips in a brutal pace now, making me scream out his name.
"Yeah, scream my name so loud the whole fucking neighborhood knows who you belong to, come on." The grip of his hand around my throat get's tighter, making me dizzy but also so soaked.
"I'm gonna fill you up so good until your little cunt is dripping with my cum." I gasp at his words, my walls clenching around him automatically. "Oh you like that baby? Like the idea of me pumping that pussy full with my cum? Shit, you're like a fucking dream. Just as sick and dirty as me." "Sam.. please.." I whine, sobbing at the thought of his words.
"Say it baby, say it, come on. Let me hear it. Fucking let me hear you beg for it." he groans, his cock already throbbing inside of me, ready to bust. "Oh Sammy please, please fill me up. Come inside of me, wanna feel it so bad." I let out a few sobs again, watching him react to my words in the mirror.
His eyes roll back and one of his hands wanders around me, rubbing my clit in circles, adding to the tight feeling in my stomach. "I'm so close.." I whimper, closing my eyes.
"No no no, you're gonna watch yourself come around me." I open my eyes again, feeling tears pooling inside my eyes. I look at the desk beneath me, rocking back and forth, all his school stuff already on the floor. "Sam, please let me come, please."
He lets out a dark laugh and slaps my ass again with much more force than before. "Want me to fill you up real good? Wanna feel my cum dripping down between your pretty thighs? Wanna walk around with my baby inside you? Fuck you would be such a good mommy hm.."
My eyes roll back at his words and the crushing feeling finally explodes inside me, a broken cry leaving my lips when I finally come around him, milking him so good.
"Fuck y-yes oh I'm gonna come. Gonna come in that tight pussy." a whimper leaves him again, adding to the crushing orgasm I have. His grip on my hip and my throat get's tighter, so tight I almost can' breath.
With a loud moan he let's go, spilling his hot seed inside of me. "Shit.." I whimper, feeling him flooding my cunt. When I slowly calm down again, I look over my shoulder, seeing him panting heavily, his chest rosing up and down. He slowly pulls out of me, a little whimper leaving me.
He takes a step back and smirks the he scans my body, his cum running down the inside of my thighs. "Hmm looks so fucking good." He comes closer again and pushes his cum back inside. "Keep it there." he whispers inside my ear, leaving shivers down my spine.
He pulls me back up and hold me when he notices my numb legs. "Don't think I am done with you angel. I said on every fucking surface."
My wide eyes look up at him but only met with his devilish looking ones. "This is gonna be so much fun, angel." he speaks before pushing me against his window, my legs wrapped around his hips.
This is definitely better tan crying after a break up.
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Sooooo what do we think? My first Sam Monroe fic 🤝🏻
hope u liked it and thank u for reading! 🖤
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xoxo sarah <3
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highvern · 3 months
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When in Rome TEASER
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader
Genre: fluff, smut, angst
warnings: alcohol consumption, cheating, penetrative sex, nudity, mentions of drug use, more tbd
Length: tbd, teaser: ~3k
Note: excited to have this for the @svthub world tour collab! thank u to everyone who helped me brain storm and ofc @gyuswhore for dealing with the insanity that is my brain
Summary: After months of no contact, Seungcheol isn't sure what to expect when he sees you again at Jeonghan's wedding. He's prepared to apologize, to grovel, to bear the weight of a cold shoulder. Whatever it takes to have you back, his best friend since diapers; or whatever will ensure the last third of your trio has the best day of his life. But when he overhears the most recent development in your relationship, he must come to terms with something he was never prepared for, or risk losing you for good.
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Leave a comment if you would like to be tagged when this is posted on July 7th. YOU MUST HAVE AN AGE IN BIO TO BE ADDED!
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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There are fewer places Seungcheol hates more than airports. Dentist offices, his grandparents’ house during the holidays when they ask about grandkids, and even the time he ran into his elementary school science teacher the first time he was buying condoms at the pharmacy, all were more favorable than the hustle and bustle of an international airport. 
Seungcheol likes to be straightforward and direct. Something that becomes seemingly at odds with the average person traveling because at the one place everyone has somewhere to be, they act as if they have all the time in the world.
But the simple thought that it's all temporary, that his personal ninth circle of hell is the only thing standing between him and a week in Italy is enough to grin and bear it. 
On the other side of the terminal, his best friends are waiting for him. It’s not as if they haven’t seen each other for long; Jeonghan and Sofie were at bar trivia last week as their last hurrah before tying the knot. As usual they wiped the floor with everyone, rousing several allegations of cheating that Jeonghan deserved. But Seungcheol is about to watch them get married and it makes him a little misty around the eyes because he loves his friends more than anything. 
The only concern, which is less of a concern and more of a titanic size anchor sinking in his gut, is that you’re Sofie’s maid of honor. And you haven’t spoken to him since New Years when you revealed you were moving to New York with your boyfriend, Johnny.
Another place Seungcheol dreads, right next to the airport, is anywhere Johnny happens to be. He’s everything you aren’t: abrasive, arrogant, catty, disorganized. And those are just the traits at the front of the alphabet. 
You had a plan. A list of criteria he had to listen to over and over again after each failed date. Even the guys Seungcheol set you up with after carefully vetting didn’t seem to make the mark. It was respectable, commendable. You wouldn’t settle for anything less than “perfect.” Whatever that meant to you. 
At a bar, three years ago, Johnny approached you. Seungcheol watched from across the table as you mentally ran over your checklist. Johnny met the physical ones: tall, good hygiene, well kept appearance. The other things would need more investigation. What did he do for work? Was he close with his family? Kids? Opinions on cheating at bar trivia?
The more Seungcheol learned about Johnny after your detailed debrief from a few dates the more confused he became. Johnny worked in banking. You hated finance bros and called them scum of the dating pool. He was an only child and only talked to his parents on holidays and birthdays. You had grand dreams of close grandparents and houses full of cousins. He didn’t want kids. You did. He didn’t think bar trivia was that serious. Seungcheol watched you threaten Jeonghan’s life on more than one occasion over the use of Shazam during the music round. Johnny was everything you said you didn’t want. 
And then you followed him across the country after two years of dating cut with three breakups. 
It didn’t make sense. 
When Seungcheol pulled you aside after you announced you’d be moving, trying to figure why you thought living with the man who once asked if you really needed to wash bath towels if you only use them when you’re already clean, you told him to mind his business. Later that night, after enough drinks to make everything blurry, you two got into a screaming match on the sidewalk with your shared friends attempting to play referee. It was the last time you two spoke. 
In over twenty five years of friendship, founded on the backs of elementary school shenanigans under a reign of terror of one Jeonghan Yoon, you and Seungcheol’s real fights can be counted on one hand. 
The sixth grade field trip where you and Jeonghan left him out, senior year of highschool when the girl Seungcheol took to prom argued about his parents taking more pictures with you than her, and junior year of college when Seungcheol caught you making out with his frat brother after ditching him under the guise of having a stomach bug. That was it. Three fights, all of which were resolved within a week because as stubborn as you both are, you’re best friends. 
Five and a half months of not speaking, except when Seungcheol texted a half hearted apology and you responded with a quarter of forgiveness. That was it. 
But Seungcheol won’t dwell. He refuses to make things awkward for Jeonghan and Sofie during the most special week of their lives. Knowing you, you’ve probably already come to the same resolution. The only person you’re closer to than Seungcheol is Jeonghan with Sofie a close second. If there is anyone you two will agree to put aside an argument for, it's them.
The sun has already begun setting when he makes it through customs and out towards the Arrivals, painting everything in buttery yellow. 
“SEUNGCHEOOOOOOOOOLLLLLL!” Sofie screams, hands cupped around her mouth.
She’s half outside the cherry red sports car. An Intermeccanica Italia Spyder because Seungcheol knows three things in life: expensive watches, expensive whiskey, and expensive cars. Sofie’s family happened to have plenty of the last and Seungcheol assumed the first two as well.
When Sofie became his study partner in law school she ended up following him on Instagram. He assumed from the way she carried herself, perfect posture with tailored clothes and an ‘air of society’ as you called it, that she was well off. But then, during a late night gossip session, you and he did a deep dive and found out Sofie wasn’t just well off. Her family had more money than God. 
But everything on the surface was a contrast to who Sofie really was. Heiress to a fortune but studied more than anyone in their class just to graduate second. Perfect posture and tailored clothes are a stark contrast to her favorite bar where she’d outdrink anyone, and cheer when the prize for trivia was cheap plastic margarita glasses.
Or right now, where she belts Seungcheol’s name again like some drunk frat boy while sitting in a car worth more than his life.
Seungcheol jogs to where she waits, already smiling. 
“I would have brought a ‘Welcome back from rehab’ sign but my mom thought you’d be embarrassed,” Sofie says as she hugs him over the console. 
“At least make it ‘welcome home from prison’ so people won’t walk in my way.”
“I’ll make sure Jeonghan remembers you have a preference,” she calls over the wind. 
Technically, the house (which is really a mansion) is almost an hour from the airport. With Sofie’s driving it only takes twenty minutes in which Seungcheol thinks he might need to start going to church. 
The pebbled driveway crunches underneath the tires as they approach. 
In the evening light, the house is more daunting. An imposing stone facade rises from the ground, more akin to a small castle than an actual home. Smooth stone with detailed carvings, windows with huge shutters, and on the top floor, a balcony, fenced with wrought iron, juts out.
Even after years of seeing pictures, Seungcheol still can’t believe his friend grew up here. 
Sofie throws the car in park right in front of the door before jumping out. 
“By the way, there were some issues with one of the rooms.” Sofie drops her voice, “My aunt and uncle are fighting, so I hope you don’t mind sharing?”
Seungcheol knows most of the guys coming to the wedding. Worst case scenario he’s stuck in a twin size bunk bed with a weird cousin. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Perfect! Just leave your stuff, everyones out back.” Sofie pushes him as hard as she can manage which isn’t much at all given she’s five foot nothing. 
The garden is filled with bodies upon bodies crowded together, some old, some young. Seungcheol recognizes a few faces in the mix: Soonyoung, Joshua, Seungkwan. More friends from law school. Jeonghan’s sister waves from across the way. Everyone seems to be paying attention to whatever is happening at the iron garden table. 
And then, like a scene in a movie, everyone parts for a second and time freezes. 
Seungcheol would recognize you anywhere. Even if he can’t see your face, he knows it's you. The curve of your shoulders, the tilt of your head. The bark of laughter as your chin drops forward. He knows it's you and the weight in his stomach lightens and leadens in an odd cycle.
He missed you.
Then everything comes back into real time. Wine and cards. Then he sees the chips on the table, your stack to the side significantly higher than anyone else's. 
Months of ruminating over what he’d do when reunited fly out the window. Seungcheol doesn’t waste a minute as he approaches, hand on the back of your chair as he peeks over your head to sneak a glance at your hand.
“Who let you talk them into poker?”
You’re already smiling when you tilt back to look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
Oh, how he missed you.
“She said she didn’t know how to play,” an old man grumbles from the side. 
Seungcheol doesn’t recognize him but he’s got the same expression as all the people you’ve sharked before: mildly impressed and slightly murderous. Two other guys sit at the table, one old enough to be his grandfather looks almost proud. Seokmin fills that last seat, head in his hands at being swindled so easily. 
“I said,” you start, throwing your gaze to him. “I hadn’t played in a while.” 
You look back up at Seungcheol for some kind of support. Eyes round and innocent in a way you both know you’re not. Pool, cards, darts, any game a man a few drinks in could beat you at was easy fodder for your con. Usually it ended with free drinks, sometimes money, but mostly it’s Seungcheol playing referee for the disillusioned guys you swindled while wearing a bright grin. 
Tossing a few chips towards the three men at table with a smart “don’t spend it all in one place,” you rise and throw your arms around Seungcheol like everything is normal. 
“Hi,” you whisper into his neck.
Seungcheol’s hands are already curled around your waist, pulling you in tight. “Hi.”
“I missed you.”
“I see that you can’t even greet your best friend.” Jeonghan coughs from the side.
Seungcheol squeezes you tighter at the jab. It’s Jeonghan’s wedding but the last time Seungcheol saw him was last week when dropping the couple off at the airport to come here. He’s far more interested in dragging out his reunion with you as long as possible. “I’m in the middle of that actually.”
He scoffs in response, walking away. “Whatever, I see too much of you anyway.” 
Another two hours of celebrating, filled with drunken toasts and more card games with Sofie’s family that only end with you digging into their pockets even deeper, fly by before the exhaustion of a day starting in one continent and ending in another catches up to him. You’re too busy arguing over if Jeonghan cheated in the last round to notice Seungcheol slipping away from the table and towards the door leading inside.
Sofie is in the kitchen just beyond, another bottle of wine sloshing in hand as she talks animatedly on the phone. “Okay, look. I am on vacation. I’m about to get married. I literally left notes for everything I'm not working on during my wedding week. Figure it out. Bye.”
She hangs up without response, tossing her phone on the counter before taking a swig straight from the bottle.
“Good?” Seungcheol asks.
“Oh, you know, just the usual. I leave and suddenly no one knows how to do their job.” Sofie rolls her eyes. “What’s up? Need another glass?”
She raises the same bottle and the thought of more wine nearly turns his stomach.  
Seungcheol brushes her off, moving to the sink and rinsing his glass with finality. “I think I’m gonna crash for the night.”
“Really?” she asks. “But the party just started!”
“For you maybe, some of us have been cramped on a plane all day.” He feels it. In his back and knees. The cramp in his neck from passing out halfway through and waking up bent at ninety degrees. And the hours he spent agonizing through emails with the inflight WiFi because even on vacation he can’t sit still for more than one minute. But now it’s a ticking time bomb before he curls up in a chair and passes out until morning.
Sofie snatches his glass before shooing him away from the sink and taking his place. “I forgot you’re an old man now.”
“You’re the same age as me?”
“Anyway,” she sings. “I know we promised you’d have your own room but—”
“That’s fine. I really don’t mind rooming with one of the guys.”
“Well… you and Y/N were the only ones not sharing and she said she wouldn’t mind for the weekend.”
“Huh?”
“I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal! Seokmin and Kwan agreed to share and room with Josh so things are pretty tight but I can see if we can switch things around and—”
“No, if she’s okay with it then it's fine.” Seungcheol says. “We just haven’t talked since, you know?”
Sofie seems to soften at that. “Seems like everything was fine outside.”
“Yeah,” Seungcheol sighs. “I missed her.” 
“I know she missed you too.”
“She said that?”
“Oh please, neither of you have to say anything, you’re both pathetic,” she says while pouring another glass. “But I think this weekend will be good for you guys! Like old times.”
Old times. Before the fight. Before you moved away.
“Yeah, just like old times… At least we aren’t sharing a bed, right?” He jokes. 
“Actually,” Sofie grimaces. 
The one solace Seungcheol is gifted is the bed is massive. Almost the entire room is dominated by the plush mattress, a dresser, and a chair in the corner. He considers sleeping in that instead for all of a minute before realizing you probably wouldn’t let him and the absolute torture it’ll do to his neck. 
At least the forced proximity won’t be awkward since you’ve silently agreed to leave the past behind you. He can’t imagine Sofie would consider this solution if you were still mad at him, even if it was her wedding week. The realization lightens the weight on his shoulders an ounce more.
Seungcheol throws his bag down at the foot of the bed. It’s no big deal; sharing a room with you. Childhood sleepovers had been the norm, a few nights in college you’d shared a clunky old twin bed when you both were too drunk to find your ways home separately. Your first apartment together, when you two had to share a mattress on the floor for the first weeks because all your money went into paying rent, flash in his head. Old times.
Thirty minutes later, freshly showered and in clean clothes, Seungcheol heads back downstairs for a glass of water before bed.
He remembers where the kitchen is after Sofie’s short tour, trapezing through the huge house easily. Behind different closed doors he catches glimpses of pre-sleep conversations: couples spitting harsh whispers to each other, a few cartoonish voices reading bedtime stories to an audience of childish giggles. But when he reaches the threshold of his destination Seungcheol stumbles into an entirely different atmosphere.
“You haven’t told him yet?”
“No. I didn’t feel like the kind of thing to say over text.”
“Well you could have called him!”
“And say what? ‘Hey Cheol, I know we haven’t talked in months because we got into a huge fight about my boyfriend but Johnny and I–’”
Seungcheol strains his ears to hear the rest of your sentence but fails to decipher anything before Jeonghan’s voice cuts in. Whatever ‘it’ is, you’re not ready to tell him.
“Just tell him.” Jeonghan says through a mouthful of something. “I’m sure he’ll be happy.”
His mind races with a million possibilities, all related to Johnny, all things you wouldn’t have told your best friend of over twenty years because of some stupid fight. Something you don’t know how to tell him over the phone, something you need to tell in person.
The realization strikes like lightning.
You and Johnny are engaged.
Thirst forgotten, Seungcheol turns back the way he came. He thinks through the new information as he stumbles up the stairs.
How could you not tell him? How could he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him? How long have you been hiding this? And why did Jeonghan and Sofie know before he did? Was everyone in on the secret and he was the odd man out?
You and Johnny weren’t even that serious when you moved away; or, that's what Seungcheol thought. In all honesty he fully believed it was some joke when you told him. A drunken practical joke taken too far but then the boxes were packed away and the moving truck came and you left with it. 
Everything else hits him in the seclusion of the bedroom. Your shared room. At least for the rest of the week.
Seungcheol isn’t happy. He is, but because you’re you, argument aside. If Johnny makes you happy enough to tie your lives together then he can bite his tongue. You’re his best friend and by default he’d never think anyone was good enough for you but if you loved Johnny, if you were this serious about him, then Seungcheol would support you.
Even if it meant there would always be a Johnny sized ravine between you.
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