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#one time I looked at the movie’s page and every movie was about a man except one which was about a mother
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Once you start picking up on the disparities between how women and men are represented within our society, you never stop noticing them and it’s exhausting
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tonycries · 5 days
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Freak On The Cam! - C.K.
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Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 6.5k
A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.
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“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”
Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.
All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna. 
In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.
Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.
“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”
“She’s also my classmate.”
“Kinky. Even better.” 
No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too. 
It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.
Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.
And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.  
“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”
Ping!
And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You. 
“Let’s make one ;)”
---
“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?”  You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 
Weird. 
It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.
It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account? 
You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.
So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?  
Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.
But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got. 
“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”
“Yes.” 
It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off. 
But so irresistible just the same.
“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”
Alas, Choso was not a strong man. 
Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion. 
Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor. 
This was absolute torture. 
And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…” 
His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice. 
And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 
“...all you gotta do is touch me.”
Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.
“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now. 
But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”
And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips. 
“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.
You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”
His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to  admit - “-virgin.”
Oh. 
Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.
With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”
And then it’s like something snapped. 
You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not? 
Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation. 
No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.
You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted. 
Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.
“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly. 
And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.
You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice. 
“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”
God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again. 
“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”
You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.
“Cho, do you want me to-”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.
You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is. 
“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”
“Oh?”
“Are y’gonna teach me how?”
Oh. Fuck.
You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.
Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other. 
You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit. 
“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”
You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”
“Like this?”
“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”
And by God, did you mean it. 
“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?” 
Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-
“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”
Ah, found it.
Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were. 
“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”
You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.
Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-
“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”
And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy. 
So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-
“Faster.”
He goes faster. 
“H-harder.”
He goes harder.
Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.
“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”
You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 
And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.
He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices. 
“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”
Oh. Shit, what have you done?
---
That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.
A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. 
So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm. 
But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.
In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.
Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more. 
For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?
Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet. 
“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed. 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”
“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”
Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-
Intensity setting 2.
“You’re so mean, too.”
“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”
God, he was addictive.
Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both? 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”
“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.
Intensity setting 3.
“That so?”
And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection. 
“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door. 
“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”
Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone. 
Intensity setting 4.
As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.
“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”
Cocky bastard.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”
God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.
“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”
Intensity setting 5.
That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.
Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.
“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”
Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.
“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”
Knock! Knock! Knock! 
“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”
And with that, it’s like the magic is over.
Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing. 
Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”
Close. You were so close.
A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.
---
“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”
You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-
But that wasn’t important right now.
What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”
Shit. Sukuna.
Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.
“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”
You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word. 
“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you.  Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”
A beat of silence passes. One. Two. 
And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world. 
“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”
“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”
“Just content?”
“Just content.”
“And you like that fool?”
Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”
This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”
“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”
Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”
Oh. Is that so?
And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”
---
You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully. 
You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)
Cho <3: :0 
And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?
Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all. 
He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles. 
Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead. 
Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy. 
Until now, that is.
slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.
uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter????? 
itsgenslut: idfc just fuck
“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”
You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack. 
“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”
“Mhm?”
And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.
Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”
It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”
And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.
The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy. 
It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already. 
“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”
“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”
uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??
roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh
“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”
Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game. 
“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”
A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum. 
He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?
“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.
You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”
“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”
Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over. 
“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”
You felt too good. Too perfect around him. 
“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.
Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”
Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you. 
“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”
Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will. 
Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock. 
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”
“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”
Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there. 
Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time
22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.
DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser
Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter. 
“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-
“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”
The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.
You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-
 “Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.” 
And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body. 
slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.
DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.
Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him. 
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.
Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but. 
So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you? 
Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit. 
“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”
“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”
You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again. 
“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”
Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you. 
Loved it in fact- the way he loved you. 
Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.
Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-
“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”
His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs.  So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all. 
Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.
“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”
And he knows he’s won. 
urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.
uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls
DaStrongest: invite me next time <3
“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”
Oh?
“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera. 
“Mhm?”
“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”
---
Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.
You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.
Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies?? 
You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.
Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.
Haha
Right? 
You: *girlfriend
Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?
You: Girlfriend.
Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??
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A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
3K notes · View notes
ressonancee · 5 months
Text
I THINK WE MARRIED IN VEGAS
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✷ You and Jeonghan have always been friends, and friends go on a trip together, right? And somehow friends always end up marrying in Las Vegas right? And somehow friends become roommates as well right? That all seems very normal when Yoon Jeonghan has a weird addiction to doing the dumbest things ever just for shock value.
✷ genre: comedy (?), angst, smut (minors don't interact)
✷ word count: 28.244
✷ featuring: Yoon Ttoram, Choi Seungcheol, Lee Seokmin, Kim Mingyu as the unnamed satan-spit roommate one night stand, and Xu Minghao as the gothic impasto painter guy. 
✷ thea’s note: hey y’all this is my longest fic yet so I’m weirdly proud. I had fun writing this and trying to figure out how to build this Jeonghan and yes I did rewatched the birth of Ttoram while writing this. By the way - love you guys but the whole credit/debt/buying a house is just for plot I do not know how any of this works in America (and it is mainly set in America because I needed Vegas lol) <3 So bear with it. Also thanks to @wongyuuu for keeping me company in this nanowimo challenge, and thaks to @toruro Mika you are the best <3 thank you for reading this 
✷ Smut warnings under the read more ✷
✷ smut count: lost count of how many times Jeonghan thought he was going to cum on his pant, 1 dick sucked, teenagers level of horniness, non penetrative sex still sex, a lot of kissing, a 3 second of cumplay still a cumplay i guess. 
"Should we do it?" you hear Jeonghan ask, his face focused on something outside the car’s window. The lights of all the neon signs dance on his face and features—like a scene from a movie. He looks tired and overworked even though you are somewhat on vacation.
"Do what?" you ask, trying to understand what he meant. Maybe he was talking about a hotel spa and you missed the beginning of the sentence because you were too lost in your own thoughts? Yeah, a message would be a lifesaver right now.
"That," he says, pointing at one of the hundreds of little chapels in Las Vegas. This one has a deal sign in big and bold letters—an Elvis Presley priest, a bouquet, a professional photographer, and a bottle of champagne for half the price. Well, you never thought about off-season in Vegas, but maybe business was a little rough at this time of the year, but to be quite honest that did seem like a great deal—the shopaholic in you would fall for it if it didn’t involve marriage.
"Are you drunk already?" you ask. Even though you have known the man for years, you still can’t read Jeonghan properly.
Sometimes you think about how he is a book that is written in a different language, and you couldn’t have access to him without a dictionary on the side. Jeonghan does look like a classic—he is well put together, he is fancy, and he would be one of those books that have an embellished spine—the prettiest book on your bookshelf. But at the same time, he is one of those books that need commentaries on every page because somehow the author didn't care about giving enough context or didn't think his work would survive so many years. And one that the storylines end up being totally fucked up, so basically a Russian classical.
"No, I'm painfully sober," Jeonghan says while leaning his head on the window of the car. It almost makes you laugh when you hear the loud sound of him bumping his head, even the Uber driver who didn’t utter a word turns his head back. "It's just," he starts again, "I heard Seungcheol talking about it, and it seems nice to be married."
"What are you talking about?” you say in disbelief,  “Seungcheol is not married yet, he is having a bachelor party in Vegas. He is drinking his weight in alcohol and spending the college tuition of his firstborn in the casino. You and him know about the same thing about marriage, which equals barely anything."
“Yeah but he did talk about all the perks—Oh thank you,” he notices that the Uber finally arrived at the hotel feat casino and all the Vegas shenanigans. Jeonghan holds the car door for you, like a true gentleman—you almost scoff. “What I was trying to say is, Seungcheol did talk to me about being married, it doesn’t feel like a bad deal at all.” Again, he holds the door for you.
“So we should just get married in Vegas because Seungcheol said it is a great deal?” you ask Jeonghan like he said the stupidest thing ever, which is partially true. It was one of the stupidest things he’d ever said to you, and you’ve known the man for years—you’ve witnessed a fair  amount of his stupidity, all laced with his all-knowing smile. Every time you tried to understand what he was talking about it always left you feeling like this man was insane.
“I mean? What would you lose?” Jeonghan asked, crossing his arms after pushing the elevator buttons—one for your room, the other one so the door closes faster (he is one of those people).
“A lot?” you say almost laughing. What the fuck? It resonates in your mind, almost like the words are bumping the walls of your cranium, like the old Windows 98 screensaver logo.
“Yeah? Like what?” Jeonghan asks and the ping of the elevator makes sure both of you know that it arrived before opening the door.
“Freedom,” you say, trying to stay normal and not succumb to Jeonghan—you both hear someone saying,“Hold!” across the hall. Jeonghan just smiles and clicks the button to close the door. Maniac really, without basic education. To be fair though, it was a frat dude with another frat dude who could wait for the next elevator without dying, but still.
“Come on, you are a book editor. You love everything that has nothing to do with freedom, you love rules and everything that shackles you.” You scoff hearing Jeonghan’s words.
You want to argue, you want to kick and scream and pick a fight because is he basically calling you boring right? He is totally calling you the most boring person he’s ever met, and you are in Vegas - and still, somehow, you are the boring girl. But he is right about it—you do not leave your comfort zone, you do not do crazy very well, and you don’t even drink that much because losing control of situations makes you slightly insane. And Jeonghan is right because he is one of your closest friends, and you talked about it with him, he even knows how this is a recurrent topic in your therapy. Asshole.
“Well, still don’t give me the urge to marry you, your sales points are awful—how do you hold your job?” You ask side eyeing your friend, well, if you wanted to marry someone calling them boring is not the right way to do it.
“I do a better job when I need to sell to investors, I’m not giving my all right now since you are not paying me,” Jeonghan says, leaving the elevator and looking back at you. Well, not giving your all when you are asking someone for marriage - number two mistake.
“I’d hope so, otherwise your name would be number one in the next layoff,” you say rolling your eyes.
“Come on,” Jeonghan scoffs. “You didn’t hear Seungcheol talking about the benefits," he says, opening the door to your shared hotel door. The deal was to sleep in a weird hotel that may have bedbugs or share a room and a bed with Jeonghan in a more upscale hotel whose bathroom didn’t look like a crime scene. Not a difficult decision, to be quite honest.
“Is Seungcheol now a pro-marriage coach?” you ask, taking off your shoes and leaving your bag on the nearest chair.
“Probably, I mean, the side money would be crazy,” he says, taking off his watch and leaning against the table, again crossing his arms. “What I meant is did you ever think about the tax deduction, health insurance benefits, leave benefits? Also, Seungcheol did remind me that the bank raises the chance of getting approved credits if the spouse has a great credit history.” 
“Yet he is the one marrying because he loves his girlfriend,” you remind Jeonghan, because apparently he is forgetting one the key ingredients of marriage in contemporary societies - love, affection, and a dose of “I love you but leaving with you every time you forget the toothpaste open is making me thinking about how life in hell would look like.”
“Right,” Jeonghan scoffs, making you even more curious.
“What would you need credits for?” you ask. Jeonghan is an unmarried and childless man, who works on investments, travels twice a year, and has a car. You on the other hand work in a crumbling industry - books, who reads books? - don’t travel a lot and your car is like twelve years old.
“Marry me and I tell you,” Jeonghan answered without letting the ball drop, quick on his feet like always, you could never catch this man.
“Tell me and I will think about it,” You try to pry.
“A house.” He says earnestly.
Again - you know Jeonghan, and you know your friend is a lunatic, but you also know when he is being completely honest with you. The man did want that house, which was completely weird. Jeonghan was a city guy, he was living in a rented apartment sure, but it was a great apartment, it even had a view. He worked downtown, why would he need a house?
“A house?” You try again, trying to get more details of what the heck is making your friend go crazy out of a sudden.
“Yeah, a house.” He says shrugging like it is the most common thing ever, maybe it is a well-known scheme of marrying for taxes and credits that you don’t know, maybe you are late. Maybe you are outdated putting together marriage and love in the same sentence, maybe, the world has changed. “Will you marry me?” Jeonghan asks you in his dullest voice ever like he is tired and completely bored.
“No.” You deadpan.
“Come on, at least pretend that you are thinking about it,” Jeonghan says, lying on the bed horizontally, his face is now closer to you and his legs are too big so they hang out of the bed, like a kid almost. “It has four bedrooms so you can move and say fuck you to Laurel the accountability girl.”
Well, that makes you think about it. He should have started with that. Maybe if he just proposed a new roommate scheme you would’ve said yes in the uber.
“I don't hate her that much,” you lied through your teeth, you hated that girl. You blamed the real state crisis because the rent was crazy, sharing the apartment was a good deal on paper, and half of the rent money went to your savings account so you could live in peace - Jeonghan actually advised you on how to save and where to invest if you wanted to retire quickly, but you never really thought about buying shares and selling shares and the whole ordeal.
“Fuck you,” He laughs, “every week I have to hear you complain how she lets food go bad and how it leaves your fridge stinky enough to make you almost puke, and that only happens when she doesn't food go bad on the kitchen counter or wait, do you remember when she forgets to lock the door two times last week?”
“Well, I am sorry if I have listened to true crimes podcast enough to be actually aware of the horrors of being a woman and how serial killers are out there just waiting for you to sleep with the fucking door open,” you say like you are the most reasonable person ever.
“And you are right, what I am saying is that I would lock the door so no one can enter the house, I would be a better roommate.”  
“Sure we do not have to marry to be roommates we can look for suitable places in our price range,”
“Look at this,” Yoon Jeonghan says, fiddling with his phone, “It has four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, the kitchen is great, it has a backyard and a solarium.”
“Fuck-”  You say, sitting on the bed, your thigh close enough to his arm that you feel the warmth of his skin, “that’s, that's crazy.” 
“I know,” he says turning on the bed and closing his hand on his stomach like he is dead, just staring at the ceiling, “The price is not bad either, one of my clients is trying to sell so he can invest in a new startup so it is not actually in the market right now but will be in a few weeks so-”
“Did you try to get the loan?”  You ask, finger still going on his phone looking at different pics of this completely perfect house. All the rooms were big, and with natural light - crazy. The Solarium looked like a thing out of this world. And you could see yourself living there, if you had enough money you could live the dream, but that house was just out of your price range. God, with that garden you could have a dog. Damn.
“I don't want to pay interest to a bank,” Jeonghan almost whines, because he knows how this whole thing works and how he would have to pay the loan and half of the loan because banks are greedy bastards.
“Can I have two bedrooms?”
“What do you need two bedrooms for?” Jeonghan asks, finally looking at you and dropping his i-am-almost-dead act.
“My room, one office,” you explain. You know the office would be the one with two larger windows facing the garden. Oh what a joy - to build a life you would never live, it was indeed one of your favorite hobbies, maybe that’s why you love books so much.
“Ok, I guess. I can make something out of the basement.” Jeonghan replies nonchalantly making you laugh.
Maybe that’s why you two were friends, you had a great time speaking nonsense to one another. You both just kept feeding into whatever fantasy you built, like reality could not touch everything. You and Jeonghan had this weird pattern of just sitting, eating and talking for hours and hours about whatever that had nothing to do with the truth. What would you do if you won the lottery? What would you do when you retire? What would you do if you woke up on a desert island? What would you do if your boss was imprisoned for embezzlement? Ok not the last one, scratch that, this one actually happened.
“I can give you 5% of the price tag, and we can share the loan if it matches my current rent price range, but we need to actually draft something with a lawyer later so we can only sell the house to ourselves, I don’t trust you enough to buy this house without a lawyer on my side.”
“Dude-” Jeonghan jerks on the bed, he sits and turns his body to face you. “Wait, do you hate Laurel that much?”
“Yoon Jeonghan, do you want a marriage to up your credit score or what? I paid my student loans in record time, the banks love me.” 
“I don’t know if you are joking or not,” He tells you. 
"Can you call room service?" You ask heading to the bathroom, while you tie your hair - like you are preparing yourself for a dire work task - maybe talk to a translator about a deadline, they are worse than writers, "I think we will need more alcohol." 
"Wait," you hear Jeonghan's voice echo through the door, "are we actually gonna do it?" 
You are joking. 
And you know Jeonghan was too. With the years of knowing him, you knew that the majority of things that left Jeonghan's mouth had a shock value purpose. Induce distress first, we talk about truth later - or never. That made you 100% sure that you would never marry that man. You knew him enough - twelve years, since high school. He knew you as well - he knew all your teenage traumas, all of your romance fiasco, and he met all of your exes. 
You would never, never, marry that man.
Right?
Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
When you open your eyes and the white ceiling greets you, you can hear yourself groaning almost involuntarily. Your head aches. You know you will regret everything that happened the night before, even though you don't know what actually happened, and what you need to hold yourself accountable for. But you know the taste of a life-changing hangover that has a side dish of regret and a cup of shame to go. But it couldn’t possibly be so bad right?
Ok, maybe moving your body was not the very first thing to do. You try to open your eyes again. Well, at least you were in your own hotel room. Jeonghan is by your side, his arm across your stomach and somehow his face is near your armpit. You try to sniffle yourself, but so far doesn't like you are actually stinky. Your deodorant was doing a great job so far, maybe it actually has a 24-hour action or something like that.
You try to lift yourself up, sitting in the bed, head in hand because everything spins. Oh God help you. Besides the headache you feel sticky and sweaty, and all gross. You can't believe you didn't shower, and if you didn't shower you didn't take your makeup off, and if you didn't take your makeup off you totally threw your 43-day steak of doing your skincare routine. Fuck. Maybe you could just delete the app, or pretend that yesterday never happened. Deal with the blank day that screams how bad you fucked up was not an option though, it would never happen.
“What the fuck did we drink?” You hear Jeonghan's hoarse voice. You take the hands off your eyes, the clarity feels like punching your cornea and brain, and Jeonghan's state is not very different from yours, his shirt is open and ruffled, his arms are shielding his eyes from the light entering the room, his hair is messy and he looks like he needed four days of sleep.
“Fuel? Petrol? Satan spit in a cup?” You answer dropping yourself on the bed again, every joint of your body aches. It is ridiculous how you feel trapped in a 90 years old body, and like that is not enough you feel nauseated beyond words. And every time you can feel and hear Jeonghan breathing it feels like it is piercing your skull, would be rude to ask your friend to stop breathing and just stay completely still? He would understand, right?
“Do you think room service can get us some painkillers?” He groans lifting himself up this time, “Or maybe a gun?”
“Can you call them? I think I will puke if I sit for more than half a minute,” you say, your hand going into your mouth as if it would actually help if the worst-case scenario happened.
“I think I can, the problem is that you need to get me the phone,” Jeonghan tells you groaning between words. His hand points to the object and there is no way in hell you are moving to get that, that would mean you getting up and turning and being alive altogether.
“I can't I told you I gonna puke,” you try to explain how serious your condition - also known as hangover - is.
“It is by your side of the bed" He groans again and yet he sounds just like a petulant child, maybe it is a gift.
“I can't I will puke on the carpet it only makes things worse,” you try again, “or worse I can puke on the bed, you included in the radio of the vomit you know it splashes.”
“Ok, stand still,” Jeonghan says, “don't kick me, I'm doing it for both of us”
And you do as you are told because being still right now is the only thing you can do - even moving your eyeballs seems too much right. So Jeonghan just dropped his body on top of yours, he is also sweaty, and he reeks of alcohol. Damn, he actually smells like gasoline. He picks up the phone and presses a few buttons. His body is still above yours, pressing into you.
“Be quick you are pressing my blade," you say after the surprise of having him against you fazes out.
“What the fuck do you need to pee or vomit? Ah yes, hello,” He says changing his voice in the middle of the sentence from something that says intimacy is a disease to his customer service voice without pausing, “hm do you guys have room service that includes painkillers?” He waits, nodding his head as he hears something before he remembers his on the telephone. “Oh okay, thank you, can you send it? Oh yeah great, yes if you can do that, yes, pancakes, toasts with poached eggs and avocado, coffee hmm” he thinks about it, looks at you, thinks about a second or two, and then adds, “Can you send us four cups of coffee? Thank you.”
Jeonghan finishes the call with a groan leaving his mouth, he places the phone on its holder. But when you think he will get himself off of you he only plops down, his body weight getting heavier. His bones poking your body, what the fuck he was doing with your elbow on your ribcage?
“Jeonghan what the fuck-" You complain, trying to kick your legs in a vain attempt to make your friend move.
“I got us painkillers and food, let me recharge for a bit stop complaining,” Jeonghan says in a dead tone of voice, almost like he is dealing with a kid throwing some type of tantrum - the only thing is that, in this occasion, the child is you and somehow you want to kick his shin, because you are the one right in this situation, and you could totally just plop down in a mall disgusting floor if Yoon Jeonghan was your father too.
“You are heavy!” You try again but somehow Jeonghan is stronger than you think and his body is still over yours like nothing is happening, maybe you are just dehydrated and fucking muscle-less, maybe the yoga wasn’t doing much when you almost killed your liver.
“I am not,” Jeonghan says, now he is the one being the moody child in the supermarket, maybe he will go off without parental supervision. Oh wait, this was Yoon Jeonghan he actually did wander away when he was out about with his parent and ended up three blocks away just because he saw an ice cream truck. Jeonghan was the easiest kid to be kidnapped, you ask yourself how he ended up being safe and sound, and in one piece.
“Just because you are skinny it doesn’t mean you aren’t heavy.” You try again pushing on Jeonghan bony shoulder, even that is pointy. “bones are heavy too, get off of me!”
“You kind of stink," Jeonghan says, his head still lodged in the space between your neck and shoulder.
“Well you asshole you are not better yourself, and you are stinky too and sticky like you showered in bear or something.”
“Maybe I did, I don’t know I can't actually think,” He groans finally trying to lift himself up, “We should shower,” he says sitting on the bed and looking down at you.
“You go first,” both of you say at the same time
You end up going first. Mainly because you needed to pee and you think that once you are up you may as well just use the opportunity to shower otherwise you would just drop dead on the floor and never get up again - you will be stinky and gross forever. Also, you think that if hell breaks loose and Jeonghan actually pukes you at least already used the shower. Back in college, he puked on the sink because it was the closest thing to the door, or whatever poor excuse he came up with, and that scene still haunts you, because somehow the sink was clogged. Ew, you think, finishing peeing and wiping yourself up. You wash your hands and say thank you for your past self because your necessaire is splayed on the counter, you pick up your face wash and head to the shower. Ok, let's deal with it. You need to wash your hair too. You open the register, letting the water hit your foot in an attempt to get just the perfect temperature.
You close and open the registers a few times - to fix the temperature, but you not gonna lie, to make up your mind too. But when you let the water hit your face - in an almost drowning attempt, you know you made the right decision, shower first was the only option. You let the water wash away for a few minutes until you are ready to really start your shower. First step - wash your face. Well, you needed to buy a new face wash this one was in its last few stages of life, you close your eyes and start to rub against your skin, normal, until you few something slightly different on your hand - almost like scratching the skin, you open your eyes and you finally notice, a band on your finger.
You turn your hand and it finally hits you.
It is a ring.
With a big rock.
In your ring finger.
A big damn rock on your ring finger.
“Yoon Jeonghan” you scream in horror.
On the other side of that door, Jeonghan just hears you scream. He actually picks himself up in record time and room towards the bathroom, oh shit did you just fall and hit your head? Did you break the glass of the fancy hotel shower? Are you dying? So without thinking much Jeonghan opens the bathroom door and he just finds you - completely naked and seemly okay, just staring at your own hand.
“What happened?” He asks trying to catch his own breath, maybe he does need to start working out man, he didn’t feel this horrible when he was hitting the gym after shifts, but also he didn’t feel that great either the whole gym rat thing was not his ordeal.
“What did we do?” You ask still in complete horror, not even thinking about how this is the first time Yoon Jeonghan, your friend is seeing you completely naked. 10/10 would not recommend this experience. Not even to Laurel, her satan spit roommate.
“What? Are you going crazy? I thought you fell and opened your skull or something,”
You just look at Jeonghan, dead in his eyes, like the reality is worse than falling in the bathroom, opening your skull and calling the paramedics naked. You just turn your hand to him - like it is enough to make him understand what a dire situation it is. And you swear to god you can almost see the little flakes of light on the bathroom floor, the rock is big enough to shine across the room.
“Did you call me to show me your ring? Couldn’t you wait until you put your clothes on?” Jeonghan asks leaning into the doorway.
“Jeonghan did we-” you say but you feel your own throat closing around itself, it can’t be right?
“Hm?” he asks without a blink of an eye.
“Oh we did, we totally did," you sighed, more to yourself than to Jeonghan.
“No, you are not that crazy,” he claimed. What is that even was supposed to mean? He was crazy enough for it but you the two goody shoes wasn’t?
“Jeonghan check your bank receipt,” you demanded, trying to connect the dots in a way, trying to find a physical proof, maybe you just bought a way too expensive ring for yourself, or maybe it was just impulse buying.
Before you can move Jeonghan almost runs towards the room, you try your best to keep up with him but you are a little behind because for the first time, you actually are aware of how naked you are. You pick up the fluffy bathroom robe - yeah the fancy hotel had its perks.
“Oh fuck” you can hear Jeonghan before you can see him, his phone it’s on his lap, his head is on his head - he is a man defeated.
“Did we?” You try to probe, but your voice sounds weird in your own ears - almost small, and the reality hits you, you are kinda scared. The reality of maybe having fucked up hits you like a trunk, you always been a nice girl, you never fucked up - at least not that bad, what would you mean if you married on a drunk whim?
“I think,” Jeonghan says, his hand on his greasy hair, fuck he needed a shower. “I think we fucked up real bad.”
You sit beside Jeonghan, you both staring at the wall ahead of you in disbelief. You are still gross, but now your damp hair is actually dropping on the bed and you can’t bring yourself to care. The fact that Jeonghan is motionless by your side without uttering a word is what freaks you out more. Jeonghan is not someone who is fazed so easily - his mouth is agape and his eyebrows furred, the ‘i-am-utterly-stressed’ Jeonghan feature is what freaks you out really.
“Ok Hannie,” you breathe softly. “That’s what we are going to do, I am going to shower, then you are going to shower, we gonna eat breakfast, then we are going to return this ring, then we are going to call Joshua, he is a lawyer, right? He probably will know what to do.”
“Joshua is a real estate lawyer,” Jeonghan mutters without blinking.
“Jeonghan focus!” You say getting out of bed, “divorce is a thing we don’t need to stay married.”
You take one of the longest showers in human history. You needed a good shower, but, the majority of the time under the shower you think about how the hell you got so drunk to marry Jeonghan. Some flashes of memory blink on the forefront of your mind every time you blink; a vegas chapel, not an Elvis but an Elton John in front of you, Jeonghan picking one of the most expensive ring in a fancy story. How the fuck fancy jewelry runs for twenty four hours?
Every flash comes with a sharp pain, the fucking headache.
When you get out of the bathroom the breakfast is already in the room. You take a bit of egg and toast just so you can shove coffee down your throat without having to deal with the stomach pain. You search the ring case and don’t find anywhere, maybe it is safe on Jeonghan’s thing, maybe he kept it safe, or you hope so. When you sit on the bed you stare down the ring, it is a beautiful ring and you are pretty sure it is something Jeonghan chose, it is beautiful, but at the same time, it is just too much.
You need to return it, no doubt about it.
You try to take the ring one and somehow it doesn’t even budge. You scoff, what a tricky little thing. So you try again, and again the thing doesn’t move. You can feel the drop in your blood pressure, what the heck? You lost track of the time when Jeonghan opened the bathroom door and you looked at him in shock, you look down at your red and bloated finger.
“This shit is stuck in my finger?” You say trying to take off one final time before just breaking your finger.
“Well, I think this is a good time to tell you,” he starts his voice all weird and over the place, “I kinda fucked up.”
“Jeonghan we are apparently married I already know we fucked everything up.”
“No, I-” Jeonghan begins, his hands now going through his washed hair, still wet and dripping on the floor, “I found a shred receipt and an invoice.”
“What the fuck?” You almost yell in pure knee-jerk reaction.
“I think it is yours now?” Jeonghan shrugs, like it is not a big deal even though you know that this ring is expensive, it must be, it has a giant rock and even though you know close to nothing about jewelry it looks expensive.
“What happened to us?” You question.
“You ask me? You don't remember anything?" Jeonghan says sincerely, and you know it is true. Jeonghan was kind of a prankster, he kinda did push people to its limit, but part of it was just doing fun things but also harmless shit. Like entering the beach at night, or hiding someone’s phone and pretending they did leave in the hotel so they can enjoy the trip without being bombarded by their special someone - read Seungcheol yesterday at lunch.
“Can we call Joshua?”
“I think we can do that later,” Jeonghan checks his watch, “I think it would be wiser just to show up to Seungcheol’s lunch and pretend that mini golf is fun, it would bring suspicious otherwise.”
“Jeonghan we married we didn’t commit a crime,” you say looking at him in disbelief.
“Do you want to deal with Seungcheol’s monologue about us getting married? I don’t think I want to deal with that with a killer hangover after a wedding walk of shame in fucking Las Vegas,” he drops. And God, that really sounds like a nightmare.
“Yeah,” you say looking at the big rock on your thing, “you are right, but we should probably still call Joshua,”
“I told you he is a real state lawyer didn’t I?” He says almost rudely to you, and you want to say that if you two are married both of you said yes it is not like you are the only one responsible for it but you try not to push his buttons.
“And what is your option Jeonghan?”
“I’m thinking about just getting drunk again so I can forget everything that is happening right now.”
What a fucking great idea.
Seungcheol is one of Jeonghan’s closest friends from college. Seungcheol just became your friend because you and Jeonghan were weirdly bound at the hip. You both shared your high school years, and when you two enrolled at the same university you only had two options, pretend you two didn’t know each other, or become conjoined twins. Jeonghan was a business major, you were enrolled in every class that had literature, poetry, or the name of a dead guy on it. But still, you and Seungcheol became great friends even though he is a finance guy. And Seungcheol was the reason you two were on a Vegas trip, the last trip of his life as an unmarried man, he had to make a sketchy deal with his fiancé in order to it to happen but still, according to him, it was worthy.
“Nice shot!” You hear Seungcheol's voice loud, bringing you back to reality. He is clapping as Seokmin - one of his other friends from work hits the ball down the hole.
Seungcheol’s voice, loud and clear, brings you back to reality.
Oh the joys of playing mini golf before lunch, you could spend days and days talking about how much you loved the idea and how every hole seems like a fucking nightmare but you are a married woman. Needless to say this whole situation wasn’t in your 2023 bingo card. You don’t pay attention when it is Jeonghan or Seungcheol’s turn, you wait until you have to put the ball in the hole, it probably takes you double the time, and then it starts again, ad infinitum. At least they are kind enough to not pressure you to perform like Tiger Woods or something.
You think about Jeonghan though. Somehow, he hasn’t changed. Jeonghan was the same Jeonghan you met in high school, of course, he matured and the years turned into baggage, but Jeonghan was still your friend who was playful enough to get married on a whim. Jeonghan was everything you weren’t in a way, somewhat playful and carefree, and still a very practical human being. Jeonghan was mischievous, but yet, not even once, he pushed you until you couldn’t take it, and that makes you think that somehow, with an unknown reason, in your drunk stupor, you wanted to marry Jeonghan, because hell can break loose, the skies can fall, but Jeonghan would never make you do something you did not want to do.
While Jeonghan and Seungcheol are busy hitting those tiny balls Seokmin stops by your side. You like Seokmin, Seokmin is kind, and you constantly think about how he is surviving the finance world, he doesn’t seem cut to it, but somehow he manages to stay alive against the monsters of capitalism, or, worse, he stays alive feed the monsters of capitalism. Ew. Seokmin’s face though seems focused on another thing, he looks in shock and happy at the same time, he probably did the whole hole in less than three shots you think.
“Oh my god,” He almost screams making you jolt in place, in all truth that was pretty much a common occurrence when your day to day involved Seokmin.
“Hm?” You question puzzled, looking at him trying to find a clue of something behind his feature when Jeonghan and Seungcheol finally join the two of you on the sideline.
“What is that?” Seokmin asks and you still without a fucking clue of what he is talking about. “Damn,” he says with his big smile across his face, making the tip of his nose get even more pronounced, “are you guys planning a surprise and I just ruined it?” His face changes in a blink of an eye.
“What surprise?” Jeonghan questions taking a drink of his gatorade like he was in the middle of an excruciating sport and not fucking mini golf after an unsafe amount of alcohol.
“That thing!” Seokmin cheered, and then it downs on you - the big ass ring on your hand, propped on the golf putter, and before you can hide it or chop your hand off the three man in your sight is eying the big damn rock that you forgot about,
“The what?” Seungcheol blurted.
“This is an engagement ring right?” Seokmin asks and you think about an ostrich, putting its head on the ground, you think you can do the same in one of the circuit's holes.
“No, it isn’t, how the hell they are engaged when they aren’t dating?” Seungcheol scoffs, acting like Seokmin is saying something that doesn't make sense, something that happened numerous times before, it could be happening again. It was happening again, at least to Seungcheol.
“We saw that one when we were looking for your fiancée present though,” Seokmin says all pouty and confused, and you think you almost try to defend his point of view as you always do, just because he is cute.
“It isn’t an engagement right?” Seungcheol asks
“It would be weird to be an engagement ring,” Jeonghan acknowledged the absurdity that envelopes the situation that you two are in, you want to try to take off the ring and just throw it across the field of mini golf, but a) it looked extra expensive, b) the three guys didn't even blink looking at your hand.
“Did you buy for aesthetic proposal?” Seokmin asks, "A girl that works with the human resources team did buy one just because she thought it was pretty."
“Of course,” Seungcheol claps, “I mean fashion was never your strong suit,” He says and it almost feels like a jab, “I almost brought that one, Jeonghan was dead set on this, saying it was the ring, but it was a bit on the expensive side”
“How expensive are we talking about?” You try to pry your body from reacting physically to the fact that Jeonghan shredded a fucking invoice and receipt, and the fact that even Seungcheol - the guy who buys twelves tumblers just because it was cute and ends up giving them away finds that expensive sets a new parameter of money waste.
“You didn’t check the price?" Seokmin asks, when you remain silent he continues, “Wow be you must be nice, balling and shit."
“How expensive are we talking about Seungcheol?” You try again, "Seokmin?" If you can’t return this damn thing at least you can try to sell it later. If you can’t find someone who can buy this you can sell for those weird and sketchy stores but you need to know how much you are actually losing on the deal, well, not you, Jeonghan but still, if you know the man he will just accept his fate and never move a muscle to deal with this ring situation.
“You really didn't check the price hun?” Seungcheol questions raising his eyebrow, like he always did when he couldn’t quite believe in you and it always made you feel angry with him. It was a tale almost, even when you were telling the truth he always raised that eyebrow questioning you, making you explain yourself.
“I brought the ring,” Jeonghan says nonchalantly like he is saying that he brought the bread on his way home. Jeonghan had this thing, a completely loath to let other people know his truest feelings. Even if he was one step away from a panic attack he would not tell you.
“Why would you do that?” Seungcheol asks again his voice is two tones higher, and you feel like he is questioning the two of you, and in his own mind he is the bad cop in the situation - Seungcheol liked that type of shit, and you think that maybe he is so into that because Jeonghan is his polar opposite, never giving Seungcheol a reaction.
“I told you I thought it was a beautiful ring man,” Jeonghan deadpans and take his fingers to move his bangs out of his eyes - making him look like a fucking prick, looking down at everyone else, and you know that just tickles something in Seungcheol. “What I am trying to say,” Jeonghan tries again, “is that the ring It is not an engagement ring because I didn’t ask her to marry me yet,” Jeonghan says walking by your side and enveloping your shoulder in an awkward hug. “I just confessed my feelings, it might be over the top a bit but you guys know I just had my eye on the ring.”
“Dude! Finally!” Seokmin says hugging Jeonghan, and you almost feel yourself choking on air.
When Jeonghan is free he whispers against your ear, his breath on your skin making you shrink, “Just bear with it.”
“What?” Seungcheol asks “Out of nowhere, you confessed your feelings? With an engagement ring?”
“Not an engagement ring Seungcheol we won't crash your wedding, relax,” Jeonghan says again, rolling his eyes.
“How much it was?” You try again dead set on finding out how much that was, apparently a new hyper-fixation.
“Babe,” Jeonghan says looking at you with a mischievous smile across his face, “it is not polite to talk about the price tag”
“What the hell I am watching right now?” Seungcheol bristled, more in anger than in frustration.
“It was long overdue really,” Seokmin gushed, in a terrible contrast to Seungcheol’s features, his voice is loud and his big smile stretches across his face, “I thought it was so fucking weird you two sharing a hotel room with the excuse of saving money, like we know Jeonghan has money,” Seokmin points to the ring, making your skin crawl.
“We are returning this,” you tell Jeonghan, your voice low while elbowing his ribs.
“Baby I told you,” Jeonghan appealed, grabbing your shoulder “We can’t do that”
“Like I personally found you guys always so weird like, I think I even asked Seungcheol if you guys were married in the past because you guys are really,” he moves his hands in a weird move in a way to mean how close you always had been, “like truly crazy and then I asked Seungcheol and he was like it is never gonna happen and I was like-"
And Seokmin goes on for about a good five minutes about how he thought the two of you were a couple, and in a way, you were so used to it that it didn't even startle you. The problem was that Seokmin truly believed Jeonghan’s lies, one thing was to think that you two were in a relationship - everyone had this basic reaction since the two were in college, even one of Jeonghan’s ex-girlfriend thought of, one of your coworkers too, Jeonghan’s door to door neighbors too, almost every single soul you two met. That alone was something you began to understand, yeah you and Jeonghan had a weird level of intimacy.
 If you mash together your college years you can sum up in - of course, we do not date, of course, you can go ahead and kiss him in this horrible pub, oh yeas I am living in his dorm at ungodly hours just because we decided to binge watch a docuseries, oh if I am wearing Jeonghan's clothes? Haha He saved my ass because I doped the coffee on my clothes - ps. The coffee didn't exist, and his girlfriend did break things up a week later, Jeonghan swore it wasn't because of you. Once one guy broke up with you because when he smelled you he could recognize Jeonghan's smell on you, Jeonghan toke as his duty to just fuck up with that guy's mind for a whole month. He told you over and over again that the guy was wrong and basically called you a cheater, so you might as well plant enough evidence to give them the mental image - Jeonghan planted underwear on said guy's returning box, a note with his own handwriting with meet me in secret at the library, and even brought you a small dog plushie to put in the box and when you asked why he said 'he will think another guy gave you a present'.
Knowing Jeonghan and the fact that he loved shocking people this whole act today didn't really shock you, in the end, you were the only that understand Jeonghan, because you would never ever fall for this weird ass act. Your default reaction to anything Jeonghan related was a fair amount of mistrust.
“What are you two doing?” Seungcheol asks again, his voice is laced with suspicion and mistrust.
“Doing what?” Jeonghan asks, his hand going to your hair and placing it behind your ear.
“Whatever you guys are doing,” Seungcheol says pointing his fingers at the both of you, and you think it is dumb to even pretend something to Seungcheol, he knows you, he knows Jeonghan he knows nothing like that would even happen and you still don't know why Jeonghan is even trying to lie to him. 
“Jeonghan-” you whine, marrying in Vegas is indeed something that brings you shame and regret but lying to your friends is even worse, how would you deal with that later?
You think you would prefer listening to Seungcheol’s monologue about how both of you are completely crazy, unreasonable, and unreliable, all of that rings true now. And it was Seungcheol, he would end up knowing somehow, even if you didn’t tell him now, you both would end up telling him. This whole scheme would fall like a house of cards somehow. You couldn't knock on Seungcheol door and say haha we were kidding, but Jeonghan could, you would make him do it.
“Seungcheol that’s actually-”
“What are we supposed to believe that after what? A decade you just woke up brought a ring and confessed your feelings?” Seungcheol asks, raising his voice enough to make you look around the damn mini golf to see if anyone is insane enough to care about this damn scene, “When you are a commitment phobe who has been on my ass for the past several months?”
“Look man, can you just drop it?” Jeonghan asks again - in the same aloof way he uses when he wants to piss you off, almost like he is flirting with the idea of being a patronizing prick. 
“Of course not, what the hell,” Seungcheol says, his tone still on the angrier side  “You didn’t even remotely tell us about this."
“Yeah well some people can actually keep secret,” Jeonghan says bitterly.
“What was that supposed to mean?” Seungcheol questions and just by the tone of his voice you know that shit is going down, you have seen countless fights between the two to know that Seungcheol was on the edge.
“It means that I can actually keep my individuality as a human being because I don’t have a crazy girlfriend who has trust issues so I need to overshare everyone’s personal life because she thinks you can cheat on her every monday to friday man,” Jeonghan quipped. He was not the one who loved to fight, Jeonghan was actually someone who would just shrug and resolve the situation later when it came back to bite his ass, but damn when he wanted to fight he was ready for it.
“Damn,” Seokmin breathed.
“What the fuck Jeonghan,” You and Seungcheol say at the same time, both in disbelief.
“It is the truth, isn't it?” Jeonghan chastised, “Dude you are traveling with friends and somehow the whole lunch was about how your girlfriend was pissed that you actually brought a ring to placate how angry she was."
“Jeonghan stop talking.” you plead, holding his arms trying to get his attention, to make him stop before things end up in a point of no return. 
“Why?” Jeonghan asks you this time, eyes focused on you and not Seungcheol.
“Because you are being a fucking asshole now,” you say “This is Seungcheol bachelor’s party the man is getting married,” you try again like Seungcheol is not in the room.
“Oh you think I don’t know about that?" He says exasperated, "We are in Vegas and this motherfucker drink one beer and told us to go to our own hotel yesterday so we needed to get drunk and-”
“Jeonghan,” you say again almost like a kid tugging Jeonghan's by his shirt sleeve.
“We are in fucking Vegas and we didn’t visit one strip club and we are playing mini golf that something off about this whole trip,” Jeonghan says loudly chuckling at his own words.
“Are you seriously right now? You are going on a tirade against your friend because he doesn’t take you to strip clubs?” It is your time to act in disbelief - strip club? Seriously?
“Maybe if we were at a strip club yesterday,” Jeonghan says eying you.
“You know what?” Seungcheol speaks up. “Fuck you, you are uninvited by the way, you go on and on about how you don’t think I should marry, well, then you don’t need to show up.”
You and Jeonghan are left side by side on the mini golf field. Standing there while the world still moving around. You want to break out in laughter, you want to just laugh at how the two of your friends seem to wake up on the wrong foot, you want to knock Jeonghan's head off his shoulder, but you end up just walking to return to the damn golf club. 
The whole way to the hotel you and Jeonghan spend in complete silence, not one uttering a single word.
And apparently - now you are the one that wants to start a fight out of nowhere. You are the one that wants to scream about how Jeonghan was being an unreasonable asshole. You try to wrap your head around his reasons, about why he would act like that and nothing that comes up in your own brain seems right.
So when you both are back in the hotel room - now with new sheets thank god, and less alcohol smell you just ask in the most nonsubtle way you can, you hold your own waist and ask like he was a teenager throwing a rude tantrum, “What was that?”
“What?” Jeonghan asks taking his time to take off his jewelry, watch the first thing, and later necklace, if he had any bracelet would be the third step of his routine.
“The whole Seungcheol marriage thing?”
“Well, you don’t have to deal with him drunk every Friday night telling you how overwhelmed and how he feels trapped since they set the wedding date,” Jeonghan says shrugging. 
“You told me he was going on and on about how great marriage is,” you say sitting on the bed, trying to understand all the things you apparently didn't know about Jeonghan and Seungcheol.
“Yeah, he has his own list of cons in his note app," Jeonghan huffs, "every time he thinks about calling it off, I think I just memorized it because he reads more than once a day”
“Fuck,” you say in a breath. In your own mind, Seungcheol not even once doubted his choice to get married, not even once seemed unsure of his decision.
“I was the one that said Vegas," Jeonghan says sitting on your side, both of you looking at the widow that faces a fucking parking lot, "I thought that he would get drunk enough to actually mess everything up because he can’t do sober, and by mess everything up I mean breaking up with his crazy girlfriend."
“Yeah, still, you didn’t need to be a fucking asshole,” you say seriously this time trying to face him.
“Well, I panicked ok?" Jeonghan finally breaks, "I wasn’t going to tell that man who is having a daily mental breakdown that we married in fucking Vegas.”
“I mean, I don't know about you but I think your friendship with Seungcheol is more important than being lectured because you married in Vegas, Hannie,” you tell him softly, patting his thigh.
“Well,” Jeonghan says, letting his hand on top of yours, “I guess I can't be gracious always,” he says with a sad smile.
“I know you are stressed out," You say calmly, "but you lashed out at Seungcheol and it wasn't great,”
“The fuck you are defending him for?” Jeonghan says standing up and pretending he is searching for something in that damn room.
“Are you serious?”
“What?" Jeonghan chuckles, "he can go on and on about how I am a commitment-phobe type of guy who is fucked up enough to not have a fiancée like him and it is all good and fun and games? But when I call out his fucking weird relationship I am the bad guy?”
“Jeonghan,” You try but before you can even finish he cuts you.
“No, don't Jeonghan me, the fuck,” he retorted, “you have the excuse of not knowing because I don't tell you, you could think I am an asshole and a horrible boyfriend because every time someone breaks up with me even though I am a great catch,” he laughs bitterly, “You can do that, Seungcheol can't do that, he doesn't have an excuse, he knows why.”
“I never ever think about you like that,” you say sincerely because it is the truth, never once have you thought about Jeonghan being afraid of commitment or being a shit asshole. You always thought about how every girlfriend of his always looked and sounded more in love with him than the other way around, but that wasn't exactly a character flaw.
“I know,” he says already sounding exhausted.
“No I don't think you do,” you say sternly, “like it never crossed my mind really, I always thought about how they were crazy for letting you go, so what you don't want to marry someone? the fuck you can still have a great life and a great relationship with someone without a ring, and I know you are capable of it," and to your own ears you sound almost bitter, how they could be so dumb? To have a chance to have Jeonghan and let him go? “You have always been there for me, you never once wavered, I have no reason to ever think of you in that light and I don't think Seungcheol is being fair, he wasn't, but he is getting married in three weeks Han.”
“Yeah and I am telling him his girlfriend has been a freak since week two when she threw a fit because she was jealous of you,” Jeonghan says shocking you, "because according to her own crazy brain, you are way too close to men so who knows what you will do when she turns her back."
“Of me?” You say pointing at yourself, “Damn, she is crazy."
“That’s what I am trying to tell him, and he isn't fuck listening I guess.”
The whole afternoon you think about Jeonghan.
You think about him when he is lying in the bed on his cellphone, and you continuously think about him when you find him napping in the same bed. You think about everything you don't know about your friend, and you think about everything he doesn’t share with you, that he chooses not to. And you know every single human has secrets, and there are things Jeonghan doesn't know about you too. But knowing that it is one thing, dealing with the emotions that come with it is another thing altogether. Why he would not tell you? Why he would tell Seungcheol?
Those questions live in your brain, rattling and making sounds every time they crash against your skull. You think about your friendship as well. Jeonghan was always there for you. He was there when you had your first heartbreak in the third year of high school, he was there when Mark broke up with you in college, and he was there every step of the way. He was there when you were sick, he was there when your favorite auntie died, he was there when you were panicking before your first job interview, he was there. You just couldn't wrap your mind around the fact that someone would call a man like that a commitment phobe or break up with him.
And what he said was true in some way, Jeonghan never broke up with anyone, he was always the one who was dumped and weirdly okay with it. Every time you talked about someone who didn't know Jeonghan you always painted him as the perfect guy, and it was true - he had a great job and his bank account was crazy even though he worked to the capital devil, he was someone who ha they shit together too, he helped his parent, he helped his friend, his house was never messy.
Every time you broke up with someone you talked about how you wanted a guy just like Jeonghan, nice and fun, but also low maintenance in a way, someone you could just comfortable be being with, without having to try too hard and do too much. And every time you met someone new, you always trusted Jeonghan's opinion, if he vetoed someone he had his reasons, like the weird guy that two months later was on the news because he emptied someone's bank account because they let their bank account info saved on the computer or something like that.
If you thought about it - really being married to Jeonghan was not even close to the worst thing that happened to you. Founding a dead rat once in the subway was worse, or that time when you found out that your roommate left the door open for weeks before you just never went to sleep before her just so you could make sure to close the door, and 95% of the time she didn't close the fucking door, that was worse than being married to Jeonghan.
“The fuck?” Jeonghan groans.
“What?”
“Apparently I messaged my account manager our marriage certificate asking if he could officialize the house-buying proposal, and apparently the bank green flaged it? The owner needs to accept the proposal of course, and it may take a while but-" Jeonghan stops halfway, almost like zooming out, staring at the wall ahead of him.
“I guess you are soon to be a house owner?” You question bringing Jeonghan back to reality.
“No, no-"
“Seriously if it is something that is helping you I don't mind, we can come back to Vegas a few weeks after the deal to annul it I looked up online it is not that hard we just need the documentation and the wedding certificate so," and it was true - you did research how to deal with the whole thing, it seemed easy, maybe that's why they actually let people marry crazy drunk, so they can pay to annul it and the city double the revenue, apparently crazy amount of drinking and casinos were not paying the bill.
“About that,” Jeonghan says, his hands tugging the sides of his hair.
“About what?” You ask.
"The wedding certificate,” he says, finally looking at you, his eyes big and still puffy because of his nap, “I think, I mean- I am pretty sure it is shredded with the receipt and invoice."
“What the fuck Jeonghan?” You shout, oh man, you are going to kill this man. The image is already on your head - jumping on that very same bed like a crazy woman and kicking him before you just kill him with your bare hands.
“I know,” he says almost in a grunt, laying down like a starfish.
“Why did you shred everything up for god's sake," you say almost stopping on the floor.
“I don't know okay?" Jeonghan says, sitting on the bed now, his cellphone forgotten, "Why did we marry? Can you answer that?”
“OOh," you huff, "We did get married, but I am soon to be a window if I don't kill in the next five minutes I swear to god”
“Wait, what changed if it is helping me?” Jeonghan says, back to his mischievous self, with a small smile across his face almost finding endearing the way that you try to threaten his life.
“You are making everything argh-” You are losing your damn mind and if you end up crazy it is Jeonghan's fault, now that he is indeed your husband has another tingle to you like a thriller movie, but you are afraid you are in your own Cameron Diaz Ashton Kutcher low budget 00's movie. Maybe you should take the whole thriller movie, it seems, weirdly, less weird. "First we cannot return this ring now I have to find someone who wants to buy it without documentation so everyone will think this shit is totally fake, I mean I would too, don't get me wrong I wouldn't trust myself either with this jewelry," you go off - almost missing the point, rambling really, before you get back to the point, "now we need to find a second copy of this certificate I swear to god we could just go to the nearest courtroom and annul the wedding I googled it." 
"I already told you you can keep the ring," Jeonghan says - voice low in contrast to your high-pitched complaints.
"Why would I keep this ring Jeonghan?" You question, it sounds weird in your own ears.
The truth is, you did love the ring, it is a beautiful ring but the truth is - you can't keep it. It shouldn't be yours to keep. It should go to someone Jeonghan wants to actually marry, even though you can't bring yourself to take it off your finger, even though you didn't even try to take it off after this morning.
And a breath almost gets locked in your throat. Why? You think, and deep down you know you have your answer but you just shove everything down when you hear Jeonghan's voice, "Well If you sell it I won't take the money."
"I can just pour it into my savings accounts," you say petulantly.
"The fuck," Jeonghan bites back.
"What? You said you didn't want it so I can keep the money," You try your best to sound even close to someone somewhat rational in this matter.
"It is a present you can't sell a present," Jeonghan though, never has a problem looking like he is saying the most rational thing ever even when it doesn't make any sense.
"I totally can," you bite back trying to hold your ground just out of pure spite. He didn't accept that cursed ring which is not even supposed to be yours why the hell he is making such a big deal of you selling or throwing it in the sea?
"You can't," Jeonghan says again, and you think back to your friendship and a lot of times it was like that - a lot of things without proper explanations.
"Why not?" So you just hold your ground - again, he will not win this one, this time he will have to explain.
"Because it is a present I picked up for you. I actually thought about it, I mean before drinking buying apparently, but I thought it would suit you" Jeonghan says, "Just don't sell, if you don't want to use it okay fine but just, just don't sell it, don't hurt a man's pride like that,"
You want to try again - to say you will sell this damn ring if you go to the store and it can't be returned, and you want to say you will throw it on the nearest river because Las Vegas is indeed very far from the sea. You want to push him until he says okay I take the damn ring and I will hold onto it and pass it through generations. But when Jeonghan speaks and he sounds so tired and so hurt you just give up and lock yourself in the bathroom pretending to take a shower before leaving this hellhole of a place.
You look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself how the hell everything happened in such a short amount of time. A marriage, a fight, a ring that makes you go crazy. Maybe you are closer to having a breakdown, maybe it is the time to face things that you are trying to keep hidden under the rug. You think that maybe it is time to just downpour everything.
But like always, you don't. You bottle everything up and pretend that everything is fine.
The last few days in Vegas have been less eventful, thanks God. Jeonghan and you go to weird restaurants and for a walk around the town, and you think about how you got married in the city of Sins.
At least it is fitting to think that pride and wrath have something to do with your own stay in this city.
You often think about Seungcheol, sending him and Seokmin a message or two, or a total of 15. Seokmin answers you, Seungcheol doesn't. And you need to hold yourself back when you type down a fuck you but don't send. You try to pry on Jeonghan's end too, but after the third time that he just doesn't answer you with words but just a cold stare you just let it go. Maybe that's why Seungcheol and Jeonghan have been friends for so long - pieces of the same cloth.
The flight back is not that tricky but at the same time when Jeonghan drops you out at your door, you are ready for a 30 minutes shower and drop dead for a whole week. When you open the door you are glad that your roommate at least remembered to close and lock the door. Character development you think, maybe she is getting better, maybe you don't need to actually move into Jeonghan's house as a safety precaution. But something doesn't seem quite right - there is a new sofa in the living room, which isn't exactly a problem, really, your sofa kinda sucked. But when you look again, you understand what is missing.
No, she didn't, she would not be that crazy. You refuse to believe that. You left all your luggage in the middle of the living room and ran to your bed, maybe she put the side table there, of course, maybe she just moved because the new sofa seems bigger. But there is nothing that resembles the side table in your room, so you try again - her room now, still nothing.
You send a message.
You try to call.
So you try the next best thing - call Jeonghan so he can calm you down. He doesn't pick up.  You sit on the floor, right beside your luggage, and you refuse to sit down on that sofa, it is pretty it seems comfortable but now is the object that you hate the most. You would prefer, I don't know, to take part in a scientific experiment that might fuck up your brain function than sit down on that thing.
The concept of time and space is a funny thing you think when you lose count of how many minutes or hours you have been staring at the door, it has been probably a long time. Until your roommate opens the door with a big guy by her side, great, all that you needed was an audience for your lash out.
"Oh," she says, big guy with his big hands on her hips and he knows he is not getting laid today, because he sees you and he gets so upright he seems like a fucking power pole, "I didn't know you would be back today."
"Laurel, darling, where is my side table?" You ask without beating around the bush.
"Oh right," she says letting her keys on the counter without fucking locking the door you have never been closer to a have a fucking stroke, you can feel your blood pressure rising, "the sofa was a bit bigger, you know I told you I was thinking about changing and this was on discount, but the table didn't really had a place in the room anymore so I put on marketplace a cute girl come up to pick in the same day, great right?"
You blink once, twice, and the words don't even come, you are so astonished that you are left speechless. Maybe you could get over the unsaid desire of getting murdered by a serial killer, and maybe you could get over the leftover food on the counter, and you could even get over the whole singing in the shower when you are fucking tone-deaf really.
But that. That was one thing you could never get over.
"Are you fucking insane? Are you fucking crazy?" You ask, the big guy taking a step back, "Or do you just have fun being the most self-centered bitch in this part of the country?"
"What the fuck?" She says, and oh god, you want to jump on her bones, you want to leave this woman bald.
"Did you ask Laurel?" You ask again, remaining sitting on the floor because if you pick yourself up you are probably no longer be a first-time offender. "Did you ever think about asking if you could sell, give or even create a fucking bonfire with the wood of my deceased auntie's side table? Did you fucking asked?"
"Oh I didn't know," she says simply. You feel the tears streaming down your face and you don't actually know if it is because of sadness or anger.
"So funny Laurel because I don't even fucking know how you function like a human being because your brain is so fucking empty of common sense really," you bristled, finally getting up and picking up your big backup, "Look I don't know how I don't care really, it is up to you, but you get my table back in perfect state, and you will pay this month rent fully because I am not living with you I would prefer Satan as my roommate really, and you may as well find another roommate because I will not move a muscle to put someone inside this apartment," You say moving past Laurel and the crazy big guy, "and by the way Laurel? I would fucking lock the door today you don't really think about how many insane people leave in this world."
You say finally get out of the apartment.
You don't really stop walking because you are afraid you will just fall on the ground, crying in the middle of the street in the fetal position, not really a pretty picture. You know Jeonghan's house is not really far, a twenty minute walk. You wish you had an epiphany when you see yourself at his door, a moment to say 'wow why am I here?'. But you know yourself enough to know why, you know Jeonghan enough to know why you are at his door.
You know Jeonghan will open the door for you, and you hope deep down that he will hunt Laurel-the-sattan-spit-roommate down.
When Jeonghan opens the door, he looks puzzled, his face shows that he is trying to understand what is happening. You are sure he was ready to say that he didn't order something and to check on his neighbor.
"What happened?" Jeonghan asks when he sees you on his door instead of a lost delivery guy.
"Laurel," you say, and before having the chance to say anything else, you already feel the pain, you don't want to cry but you end up doing that nonetheless. You even hiccup once or twice before you feel Jeonghan's arms against you, enveloping you, making you feel safe.
"What did she do?" Jeonghan tries again, one of his hands still around you, while the other cradles your head, his hand softly stroking your head.
"She sold my side table," you say, still hiccuping your way through the sentence and you feel so fucking dumb, crying in Jeonghan's arms, and you feel Jeonghan's body goes completely rigid before he holds your face in his hands and you almost flinch because you cannot face that man in this state, and second, his hands are cold.
"She sold your side table?" He asks and you just nod, it is the only thing you can do, "The side table?" He tries again just to receive the same reaction, his hands wrap around you, but this time he hugs you tighter, your head smashed against his chest and somehow you find a resemblance of comfort.
Jeonghan takes you to the kitchen, and when you feel his arms release you, you just sink to the ground, your back to the cabinets. Jeonghan hands you a cup of water, and hugs you again, his hands rubbing your back like you are some kind of a toddler, and that alone makes you sniff even more. That motion alone takes you back to your college days when you went back home to your auntie's funeral - Jeonghan drove the whole way, and the only sound inside the car was you crying. Back then you didn't know that Jeonghan lost an important exam so he could drive you back home, later when he was pilled with an ungodly amount of work and told you he needed to do an extra project so he didn't fluke his class you cried all over again - part of it because you felt guilty, part of it was because it was Jeonghan, and you could count on him for anything.
And here he was, years later taking care of you again. You never doubt he would, that alone - the certainty that Jeonghan is in your life should scare you, but it never did. Not now, and not even back in college when Seungcheol joked about every time a new girl showed up alongside Jeonghan. Somehow you knew that Jeonghan would be there if you needed him, if you ever shouted that man would run leaps. The thing was, Jeonghan never told you anything remotely close to make you believe that, he never promised you anything, but Jeonghan actions always reassured you that no matter what, he would be there if you needed him the most.
You think about it how - weirdly - you were never in that position, how you never once was that person to Jeonghan, the person that reassure Jeonghan or be someone he could lean on. There is a deep down desire that you don't quite acknowledge over the years - that you want to be someone important to Jeonghan. Someone as important as Jeonghan is to you.
When you feel you can finally breathe you get out of Jeonghan's hold to go to the bathroom, in a way searching a way to escape your own feelings and thoughts, pretending you just need to wash your face. When you return to the kitchen, Jeonghan is in the same place, sitting on the floor staring at his own hands. Now, calmer, you take the whole scene of the kitchen; the single glass of wine on the counter, the open bottle, Jeonghan's cellphone, and his notebook.
“Were you drinking?” You ask after a while, sitting on his sides and copying his positions - legs stretched and back flushed against the cabinets. The hiccups are still there but they’re less frequent now, and you can finally breathe on your own.
“Yeah I was,” Jeonghan says, stretching his legs and looking at his feet cladded with old socks.
Jeonghan thinks about the minutes before you arrived, how he was just scrolling on his phone and drinking alone because his mood was so dreadful that he didn't want to make anyone suffer in his company. The only person he would subject to a vent session was Seungcheol, so drinking alone was the only answer. The truth is plain and simple really - Jeonghan has been feeling miserable for quite some time now, mainly because even though it pays extremely well his job sucks. He works for and with shitty people, but it pays well, so that should be enough - why it isn't? But all of that seems so fucking small against the feeling of you losing the last physical thing of someone you loved, someone who was so important to you.
“Why were you drinking alone Jeonghan?” You ask, giving his thigh little taps but still looking ahead - you see yourself in the mirror, you are so swollen you can't face the man like that.
“I,” Jeonghan ponders, thinking about if it is the right time to just go on a tangent about how he works sucks, how his best friend isn't talking to him, and how he wants to go back to his high schooler self and just start everything over, even if he fucks everything over is way better than this gray area that he is stuck on. “We can talk about me another time,”
“Just," You breathe deeply, your head almost knocking against the counter door, "do it for me then,” you tell him softly, almost pleading, “tell me so I can take my mind off this shit.”
“I think,” Jeonghan says, “no, scratch that,” he laughs dryly, “I am sure that I am fucking miserable,” he looks at you waiting for your reaction, “and I’ve been miserable for a while, I just fucking hate everything,”
“Han-” you try to say, and you almost feel like you don't have tears anymore, but if you could physically cry you would.
“I am not depressed, don’t worry, I just,” he trails off, “I hate that fucking job and if I have to spend another year there I would probably kill a rich guy, I have a few investments, and I have savings, and I-”
“You should buy the house,” You blurt out, remembering Jeonghan's eyes looking at the pictures of the house.
“What?” Jeonghan says almost choking on nothing.
“You should buy the house, just give me one room and I will pay rent, we can share utilities and food, and then you can quit,” you declared like it was something people just do on a whim, like you are not even having a stroke just thinking about the process of ending your lease contract, but the sky can open you are not sharing another day in that apartment.
“Not a great deal when I have a fucking loan on my name,” Jeonghan bemused, almost laughing at your non-sense.
“Just don’t tell the bank,” you shrug.
“Well,” Jeonghan says, almost like he is trying to assess the situation, see how everything could plan out from different angles.
“Come on, tell me,” You say finally caving into your curiosity, poking Jeonghan with your elbow.
“Tell you what?” Jeonghan asks but you can feel the playful tone in his voice, almost a childlike wonder of being caught doing something he shouldn't do.
“What is the plan?” You whisper - you don't know why but this whole thing seems like a secret, like something Jeonghan doesn't want to see the light of day yet, something he has been keeping under wraps.
“What plan?”
“I know you Jeonghan," You say finally looking at him, a small smile still stretched across his face, "I have known you for quite a while, come on, don’t underestimate me,”
“What are you talking about?” Jeonghan says playing the fool but the smile is still there, making you probe a little bit more.
“I know you, you would never think about quitting without a black plan besides having a few savings and weird investments, tell me,” You almost pleaded, turning your body to him, your hands on his thighs supporting your own weight on him. And you know you need to bring out the big guns - the begging eyes, almost laughing at yourself.
“Fuck,” Jeonghan laughs at you, his head tilting back and all, like you are the most amusing creature ever.
“Come on,” you urge, using your hands on his leg to almost shake him.
“It is not a plan, it is a desire,” he begins, “I’m thinking about sitting down and doing a few design classes, it can be online but,”
“No-” You say surprised, your smile big across your face because you know where this is going.
“Maybe,” he says still leaning on the counter, eyes closed and that infuriating smile still on.
“You can totally do it,” you tell him almost jumping on your place.
“It is not a plan yet,” he explains, in a vain attempt to make you tone down your excitement, but every time he looks at you he thinks he can give you that, soothe your pain with his dreams and hopes that won't really get out of paper. At least today he can do that for you.
“I can help you,” you say, finally changing positions and sitting almost by his feet, facing him, Jeonghan's hand on your ankle.
“How can you help me?” He asks you, squeezing your ankle and you pretend you are going to kick him, but he just holds your ankle and puts it on his lap.
“We can do it,” you say completely seriously because you truly believe he can do it, achieving his teenage dream job. “You know me, I am an army general, I have discipline, and I love a good worksheet, I am an editor,"
“What you being an editor has to do with it?” Jeonghan says while he tickles your feet, making you almost jerk.
"Stop that," you say using your other to nudge him, "I did a few children's books mind you,” you say, using your free hand to pinch Jeonghan's feet in the form of a threat, “I know how to promote things, I know how to deal with due dates and with manufacturers, you just need to sit down after lunch watch your boring ass class like a college student and hand your resignation letter,”
“It is not something that will actually work and be profitable,” Jeonghan huffs.
“Jeonghan, be honest with me,” you say, this time in a more serious tone.
“Okay,” He says, hands leaving your feet and closing together on his stomach.
“Would you ever take that leap with you couldn’t live till 90 years old with the money you have on the back?” You joke, breaking him in half, his laughter resonating in the kitchen.
“No?” He jokes back.
“We are doing it,” you say like his opinion in his own laugh and plans don't actually matter that much, but Jeonghan just smiles back at you - sometimes, he thinks about how you are the only one who can actually match his insanity, the only one that goes with his plan, or come up with even weird ones.
And Jeonghan knows he is fucked, because every time he thinks he can’t love you more you show him that love grows and expands beyond borders. Lately, Jeonghan favorite song is My Love Mine All Mine, and when he looks at you, in his kitchen, face still swollen and red from crying Mitski sings in his ear - Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine Nothing in the world is mine for free But my love, mine, all mine, all mine. It resonates with him, the fact that his love for you is his to carry. And this alone makes Jeonghan happy in a weird way, because he knows how much love you deserve, and he is happy that he is the one that loves you, and he loves you for free.
Even though Jeonghan knows you don’t love him like he does love you he thinks about how you are the only person that is always there for him. Everyone that he knows would make Jeonghan just let it go. Why the fuck he would build a business around children’s toys? Why would he resign and leave a great career that gives enough money and intel to just go around and draw a few rabbits and frogs on a page? Just because of joy? Jeonghan always knew that joy alone could not make you survive on this earth.
But yet you were doing just that. Telling him to drop everything and just try to be happy. Right now Jeonghan could drop on his knee and ask you to marry him if you weren’t legally married and if he wasn’t a fucking coward. Sometimes he hates himself for that, the way he holds onto something he knows it is not quite enough but it is the only thing he can have.
Jeonghan thinks about- everything really, but mostly how joyful you are in your own way. How you would buy sweet treats just for the sake of it, how you had every single first copy of the books you worked on even if they were beaten in the process and almost unreadable. He thinks about the first time you showed up on his door, a big book in hands and a smile across your face, buzzing full of pride because it was your first fucking book and your boss give you one in the very first batch - back then you were just the one that did the toughest job, reviewing everything.
Jeonghan knows he loves you, he knows for quite a while.
Jeonghan knew before the first girlfriend dumped him because he was jealous of you. When his third girlfriend asked him if he liked you he couldn’t even lie, when his fifth girlfriend broke up and for the fifth time, the reason was you he just stopped trying dates altogether.
Jeonghan doesn't remember much of the marriage itself, he remembers bits and pieces of an Elton John in a 70's costume and how the chapel was way hotter, making Jeonghan's armpits wet, not a great look for a groom. But he remembers everything before that - in a less hazed lens. He remembers telling you in the hotel bar how he loved you for quite a while now, and how you looked so shocked - telling him he should quit lying. He swore on his first dog's grave, weirdly that made you believe him. He told you how he hated Mark - your college boyfriend that literature guy who gave you poems that you still keep as presents, he remembers you saying how you would keep every post-it note if Jeonghan wrote them in the future. It was a promise, you said holding your pinkie finger out for him. He remembers buying you the ring, you outside the store because he knew you would think that the chosen ring was too much, too big, too expensive, any ring will do it you told him before letting him inside, but he couldn't do it, he could only choose the prettiest ring for the prettiest girl. 
Jeonghan remembers his vow, promising he would take care of you, that he would write love letters for the rest of his life on every special date because you hated presents. And Jeonghan remembers how you two kissed in the chapel, on the uber back to the hotel, in the hotel room - more than you should have, because now it is the only thing he can think about it and you don't fuck remember. Jeonghan thought about running, about changing cities and even country - investments were pretty much the same everywhere in the world really. But the reality was that even if he moved, his love was still his to keep, and he would do that heartedly. He was a coward, but he still had his pride, and if that was the price to pay, then, be It.
“Hey, come here,” He says, finally lifting himself off the ground.
“What?” You ask, looking at him still sitting on the floor.
“Come here,” He says again, giving his hands so you can get up.
“What? You are weird what is going on,” you say finally getting up on your feet.
“Come here,” Jeonghan says and before you approach him his arms are already by your side, enveloping you in a thigh hug. “Thank you,” he says softly, “thank you for everything really,”
“Are you drunk Yoon Jeonghan?” you ask, your own voice muffled by the tight embrace.
“No,” Jeonghan laughs, and you can feel his whole body move, “I’m serious, thank you for being there for me even when you have shit on your own to deal with,” He says, his chin on top of your head, “and thank you for not thinking I am a commitment phobic asshole.”
“You are still on that? I told you I never saw you like that stop being dumb."
“I know, I am just-” Jeonghan doesn't finish his sentence, his arms still around you, his heart beating by your ear.
“Look you are drunk, at least there is nothing much we can fuck up being drunk together after getting married in Vegas," you say and Jeonghan feels a pang, almost like when he stubs his little finger on the corner of random furniture, but he doesn't say anything, "give me a sip of your wine you asshole,” you say getting free of his embrace and holding the bottle of wine
“Come on! Don’t drink it straight from the bottle, there is a glass right there!” Jeonghan protested.
“Come on Yoon Jeonghan, I know you, I know you since you didn’t have enough cups in your first kitchen, don't play the proper guy with me,” you say like basic manners don't exist, and sitting on his counter.
“I grow up I am an adult now,” Jeonghan says, but he doesn't really move a muscle to pick another glass of wine for you, he thinks it is his biggest flaw - the fact that you can walk over him countless times and Yoon Jeonghan will just let you do whatever you want even if he pretends that it is against his will.
“Oh, totally,” You look at him, and even though the phrase itself has a bite to it your voice is honest, “Not to go back to sappy times, but you really did Hannie, you are really growing so much, and I am so proud of you,”
"Shhhh-” Jeonghan murmurs trying to shut you up and you know it is mainly because he is so fucking shy that you almost laugh.
“By the way,” You say taking another sip from the bottle. “I’m so moving in with you and I can even deal with only one room if you don’t sell any of my stuff.”
“Shut up,” Jeonghan says kissing the top of your head, “you can have the whole house, just don’t set it on fire.”
Ultimately, that actually happens.
You actually move with Jeonghan into his dream house. The house is 98% bare, without the furniture of the last owner besides the utilities. But a) it is better than living with your satan-spit roommate, b) Jeonghan has been sleeping on his own couch for over two weeks now because even though you say it is okay you can't spend that time in your own apartment he refuses to let you near Laurel.
But somehow, Jeonghan and you make a home out of the new house. You take the bookshelves on the left, all the books you edited in your lifetime on a special shelf right in your point of view. Jeonghan takes the bookshelves on the right, a lot of the books you edited and gifted him are scattered across it because he doesn’t really care about arranging his shelves in a particular order.
Every time Jeonghan sees a nice piece of furniture he sends you a picture of it, and you two chat about if it fits the room, and the colors would clash. In a weird way your collection of cups and mugs triples the size, indeed you are engrossed with buying new ones, but the thing is - you always pick two of them now. Jeonghan’s favorite is a weird bunny mug that you never actually use because it ears always make drinking anything impractical.
You two also build a weirdly oiled routine. You two eat breakfast together, Jeonghan wakes up early and when he is just arriving for his morning run you are already scrabbling eggs. When Jeonghan is ready for work you are ready for your own run. When Jeonghan arrives from work you still have one hour to go, so in the end he is the one to always cook dinner. After you two share the dishes and eat something sweet as the dessert the kitchen counter - previously used as a dinner table, now acts an officer table.
While Jeonghan looks up some designer classes, you search manufacturers. When he draws a cute rabbit girl that he named Ttoram, you try to understand how a business works, how you file taxes for it? Sometimes Jeonghan does the dirty work himself after he finishes a new version so you get your pink glittery pen and write in post-it what you think about the new product; ‘what is this material arrow-drawing pointing to a specific part of a squish toy’, ‘her head seems big are you sure she won't flop head first in someone’s bed?’, ‘are you sure? I think lamps are quite expensive.
The house gets filled with new art supplies, sometimes Jeonghan orders a bunch of them online, and sometimes you are the one that brings back a single pen or a new colored pencil that you pick up in arts stories every time you go to a meeting. The house is filled with paper and drawings, your favorite ones is always the first drafts - the ones that Jeonghan does on the non-quality paper, the ones that he does on pieces of paper, the ones that look less refined and to you are filled with children-like joy.
Another curious thing is how somehow you and Jeonghan seemed very addicted to post-it. Besides the practical use in the drawing drafts because Jeonghan was an old soul who couldn’t do his work on an Ipad like a normal human being in this day and age, you also used to communicate - ‘please buy eggs!’ you wrote and left on the kitchen door, ‘already set a reminder on my phone so i don’t forget to stop at the market!’ jeonghan replied. “Didn’t see u before I left :( don’t forget to take breaks” he wrote, somehow the post-it ended up in your office, and you glued it on the computer screen beside one green post-it with a frog with a raincoat on.
Every time the fridge was out of space for new ones you took them off one by one, with a smile on your face, and kept them in a box, safely stored. You always noticed one or two missing but you always thought the wind knocked them out and Jeonghan, that traitor, threw them in the garbage. In short, everything stayed the same with a daily dose of domestic life. The problem was - that it didn’t stay the same for very long.
And as hard as it was to admit, it was your fault.
There was no way around it.
It weirdly began every time you saw Jeonghan around the stove. The fact that Jeonghan was beautiful-handsome-pretty was not news to you. You, and every human being that laid eyes on him, always reached the point where you acknowledged how pretty Jeonghan was. In college it was a fucking nightmare, guys and girls banging on his dorm room when you two were watching a movie just because they thought Jeonghan was alone - the fact that he didn’t have a roommate because he bribed someone (one of the most Jeonghan acts that you ever witnessed, but that was beside the point - really) only added to the fact that 87% of his course thought he was down to bang anytime. The truth was that you always knew that Jeonghan was someone objectively good-looking, but there was a catch, even though Jeonghan was beautiful you didn’t really feel attracted to him and he knew that. Countless times you told him he was too pretty for his own good along with the lines that he wasn’t your type, ‘what the fuck that supposed to mean’ he answered the first time you said that, back in high school. With time it turned out to be your standard answer to every girl that was attracted to him and wanted a shot with him but somehow thought he was your boyfriend.
You know that Jeonghan is good-looking, and you know that for fucking years so why are you going a little insane every time you get in the kitchen and the man is cutting some onions? Truly it happens in the weirdest hours, out of nowhere, your brain reminds you how hot Jeonghan is - and that is even scarier because you knew that the man was handsome, but hot? That’s a new development. Once he arrived from his morning run, his hair a little damp, sweat dripping down his neck, and only with a thigh shirt because he already removed his go-to wind-breaker and you almost collapsed on the kitchen floor. That alone was mind-blowing.
The horrors begin when you just couldn’t deal with his touch without your mind going to the fucking gutter. When he touched your hips to make your move because he wanted to open a drawer, or when he dropped down on the sofa without leaving space between your bodies, his hand tapping your thigh. Out of nowhere, you are combusting because his hand feels hot against your skin, goosebumps appearing across your skin Jeonghan asks you if you are cold. And the fact that Jeonghan is touching you isn't necessarily super weird, he always did that, but somehow you feel that his touches changed and you can't quite pinpoint how besides the fact that you are reacting differently.
It doesn't really help your case that Jeonghan develops a weird habit of wrapping his arm around your neck. It happens everywhere, even in public and every time you can feel yourself grow a little hotter. You were supposed to pay attention to Minghao’s new paintings, a designer slash illustrator slash painter whom you worked with for a few book covers, and somehow in the middle of the opening of his new exposition, you can’t even think about the impasto on his oil paintings because Jeonghan hands feels heavy on your neck, his fingers touching the lateral of it almost rubbing. Every time you take a step to try to see the paintings up close Jeonghan doesn’t let you leave his hold, his body close enough to be pressed against your back, half of your back feeling hot because of his presence, half of it feeling cold because of his absence.
“Hao!” You say when you finally see the man of the hour, black hair on black coats, his hands behind his back looking around all the people that came just to appreciate his work.
“Hey,” He says opening his arms for you.
“Congratulations,” you say feeling the arms of Minghao around your back, your body though prefer to pay attention to the weight of Jeonghan’s eyes on you, “everything is mind blowing,” you say to the man - his hands still on your body, yours on his shoulder, until you hear Jeonghan clearing his throat in order to get you to notice his existence, and you almost laugh, “Hao this is Jeonghan, Jeonghan this is Minghao.”
“Great job man,” Jeonghan says in a weird tone, giving Minghao two little pats on the back and taking a step by your side, his hand on your waist.
“Thank you,” Minghao says politely, like he always does, “It is a pleasure to meet you, you are in the book industry too?” Minghao asks with his hands in his pocket,
“No,” Jeonghan almost scoffs, him? and books? God forbid, “I work with investment these type of things,”
“Oh, so you are not in the art business then,” Minghao acknowledges and you know his interest peaked even though you don't know why, maybe because you know Jeonghan so well you don't have much to unfold, while Minghao just seems weirded out by the fact that you have a Wall Street dude by your side.
“Oh Hao you always flatter me when you include me in the art business,” you say jokingly, reminiscing one of the many conversations you had with Minghao over a bottle of wine.
“I told you," a sly smile across his face, "books are a matter of passion.”
“You did,” you say somewhat reminiscing of the talk you two had back then. It was after calling him up for his second cover, after a meeting where he made you go through the book's motifs and ideas so he could have a feeling of what he should focus on.
“You should come to the after party,” Minghao says, “we could catch up,”
“Yeah I don’t think we can,” Jeonghan says while he checks his watch, he knows the question wasn't directed to him, he isn't stupid and he has two eyes, but he also is a stubborn motherfucker and now he just wants to ruin Minghao's night, and he is not about to Banksy this place up with shredded art pieces - because he is afraid his bank account can't take the lawsuit. “I have a work meeting tomorrow morning” Jeonghan reminds you, his fingers still on your waist.
“Still,” Minghao says, looking puzzled by you two, “you can stay right?”
“I’m afraid I can’t,” you say sorry “Han is driving us back so-”
“Is your phone number still the same?” Minghao asks without dropping a beat, and Jeonghan can give him that, he doesn't know Minghao but the guy just doesn't quit - he knows a stubborn guy when he sees one.
“Yeah, I didn’t change, but if you need you can e-mail me and-” You say before someone calls Minghao, it is his opening after all, a guy in the suit makes a gesture to him when the three of you look to see who was the owner of the voice.
“Sorry, I have to go, but I will call you," He says before giving you a kiss on the cheeks and walking to the guy who just called him.
Jeonghan snorts, really, what was that? He shouldn't find it so funny but it is. He takes a step back, his hands leaving you, while he looks at the painting. You know he is just pretending to analyze everything.
“What?” You ask him - missing his hand on your waist, on your neck, missing his presence around you.
“Nothing,” he says shaking his head, he is biting back a smile - laughter really, and you want to know what it is so funny, you are curious about what is going on in his head.
“It can’t be nothing come on,” you press on, your hand on his shoulder in a way to get some sort of touch from him, to regain some sort of proximity.
“Just-” Jeonghan stops, in front of another painting, his hand going back to your waist, and at the same time you think you can finally breathe again, your breath feels trapped in your throat, making you swallow on nothing, “You didn’t tell me it was an opening night to your ex-fling," he says. Eyes almost tinkling under the light and you know where this is going.
“Hao isn’t my ex fling what are you talking about?” You pretend, trying to get out of this situation because you know somehow Jeonghan will pry on, and he knows how to push your buttons enough just so you can spill everything he wants to know.
“Not fling then," Jeonghan says, hand still on your waist when he starts walking around the gallery with you by his side, until another painting that he really doesn't really care about, "an one night stand.”
“He is a friend," almost rolling your eyes at him, "I told you, I know him because of work,”
“So you are telling me you guys didn’t fuck?” And even though his words my seem harsh his tone is still light - he was truly a jerk but why are you smiling at him?
“Jeonghan, what the fuck?” You yelped, making Jeonghan's sly smile appear again.
“What?” He asks eyes still on you when you pretend to pay attention to the orange painting in front of you.
“Keep your voice low,” you mouthed, “we didn’t fuck,” you tell him again, and it was the truth, but somehow Jeonghan knew how to read between your words.
“Well,” he began, still looking at you even when he tilted his head to the side, a sly smile still on his face like he could see through you like you couldn't keep anything under wraps, and you could feel the goosebumps on the nape of your neck, your whole body tingling, “I am pretty sure it wasn’t for lacking trying on his part.”
“It would be too messy,” you finally blurt it out.
“Ah of course," Jeonghan laughs again and it almost sounds bitter to you, "so he did try, it was after or before saying the book and passion line?”
“After,” you say, your time to laugh, even though you feel the heat on your skin, a crazy addition to new feels because you are not one to actually feel shy around Jeonghan.
“And you laid him down too gently,” he acknowledges, eyes moving through the room again. You follow his gaze, seeing Minghao watching the both of you across the room, you just greet him with a smile.
“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask him, pressing your body on his sides until his arms are back on you.
“Well," Jeonghan breathes, his eyes still rummaging around the room, "I know you can break a guy's heart but apparently you lost your touch with that one because he is still down to fuck.”
“Jeonghan!” You gasped, “No he isn’t you are seeing things like you always do.” You tell him, Jeonghan had this weird superpower that he tuned in college - he could tell a guy was somehow interested in you from miles away, the first few times you actually made a bet on it; fifteen dollars, to pay him for a meal, to go with him to a frat party that his friend Soonyoung was hosting. After the fifth time, you just learned that was better to trust his judgment on it.
“Oh yeah, it truly takes a mind reader to see a guy ogling you across the room and telling you to show up at the after party even tho you have a guy on your arm," Jeonghan almost scoffs, then he leans down, his mouth close to your ear, "truly, his intention was indeed to talk about the impasto or the lighting or the shadow of his hard-on,”
“Jeonghan” you accuse again slapping his arm playfully, laughing at his antics “If I trusted you my ego would be in the clouds because every walking human being apparently wants to fuck me according to you.”
“Not everyone but a great part of it, sure." He deadpans.
“Sure, apparently you are the only exception who else?”
“I’m not,” Jeonghan deadpans again, just shrugging. Because it is not actually something he tried to hide over the years, it is nothing something that he is ashamed of either. And he is pretty sure it is something you already know since college so he doesn't have to lie about it. Jeonghan might be a coward, but he isn't really a liar.
“What?”
“I tried to get in your pants my whole high school years," He says, his eyes still on the painting, or everything that catches his attention, his eyes are everywhere really but on you. "I just gave up after the few first months of college”
“What the hell?” You try again. Everything feels kind of abnormal in your head. The way that Jeonghan says those words - like he is saying that you two should buy soap the next time you both go do groceries, it freaks you out. How can he be so normal about all of that?
And how could you be so clueless? Everything shifts in your brain - like the earth just changed its axes. He never told you anything closer to this, you are sure of it. You never suspected that Jeonghan liked you back then, or scratch that, that he tried to get in your pants. It seems something so unreal that you are having a hard time wrapping your mind around it - around the idea of a teenager and younger Jeonghan wanting something from you that you never really saw happening.
“What the hell what?” Jeonghan stopped dead on his track, finally looking at you, “You didn’t know that?”
“Of course not,” you say exasperated.
“Oh, I thought you were laying me down gently too,” he added, in the most neutral tone possible, making your head spin a little.
“No, I had no idea,” and it is true. You remember everyone from college who thought you and Jeonghan were a couple back then, everyone who found it weird when you two answered that you were just friends. You remember Seokmin, and you think about Seungcheol's words in Vegas and everything is hazed, a little out of focus. “Why did you give up tho?” You ask him.
“I just,” he says still looking forward and avoiding your eyes like the plague, “I mean, besides the fact that you got into he is not my type phase I would never kiss that man, the fact that I tried for four years and it didn’t happen led me to believe that never would, so...”
“I needed to make clear to every girl that was falling and tripping over you that I was not your girlfriend, they were pretty sure we were high school sweethearts back then”
“I think everyone we know somehow ends up thinking we are in a relationship,” he says, “I mean, clearly not goth impasto guy because that would be crazy, hitting on a woman with her husband on her side but”
“You need to pick up your husband's game,” you say kidding, while walking around the gallery with him, “I was indeed mistaken to be a single woman today.”
“I should have bought a bigger ring,” Jeonghan groaned, making you laugh, weirdly you still have the big ring on your finger.
“That’s not the answer,” you groaned because the man truly had this weird obsession with this ring and big rocks. You could tell him over and over again how you didn’t care about the ring or the rocks and he still found a way to make sure you were wearing the ring.
“And what is? If I try to be more territorial within the touch department we would be in jail for public indecency,” Jeonghan says low on your ear, his voice mischievously, while his hand presses on your hips, “Should we just go to jail?” Jeonghan asks, his hands trying to go lower heading towards your butt.
“Jeonghan, don’t test me,” you say seriously, your hand holding his and bringing up on your body. Why the fuck didn’t Jeonghan behave like a proper human being? Why your heart is racing against your ribcage? Why you are enjoying this whole thing?
The whole night you can feel Jeonghan’s hand on you in some way, or on your lower back, your neck, fingers on your shoulder, making his presence known somehow. And every time you think you are starting to understand what happened - what Jeonghan said, what that meant, he touches you again and everything gets a bit hazed, taking you to the start again.  Should you read into everything that he said to you? Would you be able to deal with it?
Those questions are still going around your brain in the car back home. Home, that alone was something that didn't make sense either. The air in the car is so thick that you think you can't breathe, the fact that Jeonghan's hand is splayed against your thigh doesn't help with the issue. The curiosity gets the best of you - you want to know all the unsaid things, you want to get under his skin and discover everything Jeonghan even wanted.
He doesn't move his hand, he doesn't stroke your skin, his hand is just there. Again, a reminder of some sort, and you almost laugh - silly of him to think that his presence could go unnoticed by you. Jeonghan has always been there on your mind, and lately even more. It makes your mouth go dry. The feeling is back on the pit of your stomach again. What if? You ask yourself, what would have happened if Jeonghan said those things back then? Would the present be different? Would that have washed away all the curiosity about Jeonghan?
Arriving home you go straight to the sofa and plop down in the middle seat, taking your time to take off your high heels, you don’t know why but you still buy pairs with ankle ties - the bane of your existence when it is three hours later and you have a thigh dress on, maybe that’s why you think you hate those types of event, even though you had a great time, saw a few friends and enjoyed the night with Jeonghan, you always ended up tired with a few blisters on your feet. You can hear Jeonghan’s footsteps around the house while you massage your feet and try to ease the tension.
You turn your body so you can stretch your legs on the sofa, the pain on your calves is killing you. You don’t even turn when you feel Jeonghan entering the room, his perfume and the sound of his slippers are enough to make his presence known. It was always like that? Did Jeonghan's presence always engulf you? Did it always make you unable to focus on anything else? Did it always make you question your own sanity? He sits down on the sofa, in the same direction as you, his legs around yours, his front pressed on your back and you hold yourself back because you almost whimper when you feel your body melting against his.
“You’re tense,” Jeonghan says his voice low, his hands pressing the knots on your shoulders.
“I am always tense and stressed out,” you say, and it is the truth. Jeonghan doesn’t need to know that for the last few weeks the fact that he is the number one reason. You almost rub yourself against him, feeling a little bit crazy and hot all over - oh no.
“Hm,” Jeonghan acknowledges. When his fingers close around your neck you almost jump on your seat, his thumbs traveling across the knots of your spine, and you are not strong enough to not whimper this time, “there’s a lot of things you could do to distress.”
“Like what? A guided meditation?” You joke, trying to get away with it, trying to downplay every reaction of your body.
“Fuck those apps,” he mutters under his breath, he is so close you can feel his breath against your nape.
“Yeah right there,” You say when his thumb presses down in a particular knock on your back.
“This one?” You just nod, don’t trust yourself enough to utter a word that doesn’t sound like a humiliated noise. Since when did you turn into a mess in Jeonghan’s hand? But you just accept your fate, feeling how soft your body feels against his. “Can I open this?” Jeonghan asks, his voice so low you barely hear, but he is so close to you that your ears catch his question.
And you still don’t trust yourself, so you nod again. Jeonghan drops the zipper of your dress and takes his time to gather your hair in his hands, and taking them out of his way, letting your locks rest on your shoulder. His fingertips trails the collar of your dress again, and you can feel the goosebumps across your skin and you know Jeonghan can see them as well.
You can feel the way that Jeonghan’s fingertips travel down your spine as he opens the zipper of your dress. And you close your arms around your chest, in order to maintain the dress in place because you can feel how loose the fabric feels against your body after the zip is down. But apparently, Jeonghan is not even close to satisfied because his fingers are tugging the straps of your dress down your arms.
Jeonghan’s fingertips are still on your skin, stroking your arms when you feel his lips against your shoulder. Before you can think about anything your own body reacts before you, giving space so Jeonghan can continue kissing the column of your neck. Everything feels a little surreal, a blur, you can't quite grasp-
Then, your cellphone starts to ring bringing you back to reality.
“Don’t pick up,” Jeonghan tells you, almost like a whisper against your ear, his hands still around your waist - but then your phone rings again and again and reality comes crashing again and again.
And you want to say that you are ok with almost being undressed on Jeonghan’s lap, that it is ok the way his thighs cage you, that it is ok how his hands feel hot against your body and how his lips feel against your neck. But your phone rings again and it must be important so you stretch yourself and try to find your phone inside your bag by feel. When you finally can reach the phone dies, and you can feel Jeonghan’s smile across your skin - like he just won. But before you can drop the phone you feel it ringing again, and when you pick up the big font appears on the screen ‘seungcheol is the best’. You can feel Jeonghan’s hand freeze against your body, the way he just goes rigid.
“Don’t pick up,” He says again but now something is different - his voice is not low.
“It must be something important,” you reasoned, because it is true. You have been trying to get a hold of Seungcheol since before leaving Vegas and yet the man didn't answer you once.
“Just-” Jeonghan tries, and you can feel his squeezing your shoulders again, almost in a silent plea.
“I haven’t talked to him since Vegas, it must be something important,” You say, your own hands going to his in an effort to show him that you understand what he is trying to say.
“Are you truly doing this right now?” Jeonghan asks and when you don't answer him he already knows.
You look at him but Jeonghan just gets up and off the sofa and leaves the room, in the end, you choose to just pick up your phone and answer it with a low “Hey cheol,” so low that Seungcheol asks if you were sleeping.
Seungcheol tells you he wants to meet, to talk about things. And you say yes because why not? You pick yourself up and close your dress. Before going to your room you stop at Jeonghan's door and before you lose all the courage that you have in your body you knock on the door, nothing, and you try again just to hear the sound of the shower across the room when you glue your ear against the door.
When you lie on your bed you don't really can close your eyes. You feel restless, your mind wavering, and you can't stop thinking about Jeonghan.
What would that mean?
If you took that leap would Jeonghan be there if everything fell apart? A shiver runs down your spine because it is the first that the answer would be a no. You ask yourself why now. What made Jeonghan change?
And you can't even look back anymore - you can't even think about your friendship with Jeonghan without it being tinted, his words echoing in your brain, "I just gave up". You play the whole conversation back in your head, almost like an old VHS tape - rewinding and pressing play, trying to see everything in another angle, rewinding, asking yourself what that meant, rewinding, thinking back, rewinding and pressing play - unfolding all the touches, and the times Jeonghan's hand lingered on your body.
You rewind until the sleep gets the best of you when it is already bright outside.
You wake up to the sound of your phone, Seungcheol calling you because he will run a little late, of course, you say while he just laughs because it is so clear that you were sleeping. When you run down the stairs, almost falling on it because your brain isn't functioning yet, you don't find Jeonghan anywhere. When you look at the fridge and there are no new notes, your heart breaks a little.
The coffee that Seungcheol chooses is pretty, and not very crowded, and even though Seungcheol is late is not a big deal, you use the time to go over a few manuscripts and spreadsheets with a cup of coffee on your side. Or at least you try to, but the truth is that you send Jeonghan a few messages and every time your phone pings you need to check if he is the one answering you - it isn't.
When Seungcheol arrives, you see him first, still from afar, his hair is shorter now. You almost laugh because that is definitely not a Seungcheol's choice, nor a haircut. His hair screamed his fiancée's name.
"Hey stranger," he says sitting across from you.
"Hey yourself," you greet him back, almost laughing at how awkward this whole thing is. Seungcheol and you walking around eggshells. Neither you nor Seungcheol wants to start talking about the whole elephant in the room - Yoon Jeonghan.
You ask him about the wedding preparation, it is going nice he says, he was late because he needed one last fit on his suit. His mother nagged over and over about how he shouldn't wear a navy blue suit, his future wife nagged about how it couldn't be black because the whole vibe of the afternoon wedding was different from a night wedding.
"I'm just happy that you guys worked everything out," Seungcheol says after a while, sipping on his coffee.
"Cheol," You try your heart already tugging on your inside.
"No really," he smiles at you, the way he always does - with a fondness you can't quite handle, like after all those years he still sees you like the kid you once were. Someone who didn't really have hold of her life and in a way, after all those years you feel like that again. "I did a lot of thinking," Seungcheol chuckles, "I think that I always have been envious of Jeonghan in a way," he breathes loudly, almost trying to gather up courage, "here I was, with my wedding date set up and still having doubts about how I feel and if I should go on with it." Seungcheol scratches her head almost like he is ashamed to tell you the truth, "And there is my friend, right? I think that the thing I always admired about Jeonghan was how consistent he was, you know me, in that way, we are alike right? We see shine things and we run towards them, a new project, a thing we like, don't even say anything about the golf gear I swear to god," he says abruptly making you laugh, and it was true in that sense you and Seungcheol were very much the same. "But Jeonghan is consistent, that man's mind is a fucking rock," Seungcheol says like a jab and you can understand why, "and yet he is more sure about you than I am about my fiancée really. And he has been sure for years, I still don't know what made him make a move-, he didn't talk to me prior to that, but I am truly happy that you guys figured it out, it took you long enough."
"I don't even know what to say," you breathe, looking at Seungcheol. You can't blurt out the words - physically unable to tell him. You think about what you should say, you should tell him -'we are not together', 'we didn't figure it out'. You want to tell the truth, you want to come clean, but you just can't. "But yeah, he has always been there for me" you laugh a little soulless. It is not a lie either, but it is not the whole truth, Yoon Jeonghan has always been there for you, but now all the other pieces of the puzzle are coming together. "I think the only thing that hurt him was you going on and on about his commitment issues or whatever.
"It's-" Seungcheol breathes, "it wasn't like that. I mean, sure, he can't commit to anyone who isn't you," he shrugs, "I think it was back when you were going out with that lit kid right? god" Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head like he just found a memory in his treasure box, "Jeonghan was so jealous back then," Seungcheol continues, reminiscing,  "he would get furious every time that guy would give you a letter, a poem, anything really. I don't know how you didn't catch up on how much he hated that guy's gut if he dissed the poor kid."
"I just thought-" you stop to think about it, "I don't even know what I was thinking back then, but I never once thought it was because of jealousy, he was dating like 3 girls at the same time back then," you tell, felling the bittersweet taste on your mouth.
"Well," Seungcheol takes another sip, "you know Yoon Jeonghan, when he doesn't get what he wants he tends to fuck everything up and push himself to do shit just out of spite. His high school crush and love of his life found her first boyfriend, how do you think he would handle that? What he could do about that? Try to write poems better than Mark? He tried to believe they were all shitty, trying to forget you was the last thing he could do for himself, even that didn't actually work."
And you feel like you are about to go into overdrive.
It is one of your flaws really, you were never one who would react quickly - your brain always trying to assess and digest everything before being able to take a leap. The problem was that you needed to unpack more than ten years, to go through every file of your life with Jeonghan and try to find a new meaning, trying to find a clue, in search of something you don't know yet, but that could make you understand, or realize.
You spend the whole day feeling a weird taste in your mouth.
The thing is, you can't quite pinpoint what are you feeling, you can't really name it. It somehow resembles feeling betrayed, you think, that you have a cheating boyfriend and everyone knows his secret but nobody has the courage to tell you, and when you actually find out you are the last one to know.
You take your time walking around town and even figure out the longest route to Jeonghan's house.
Even that sounded weird rolling off your tongue.
You try again - picking random memories to try to see if you can find a hiding meaning somewhere, a clue, evidence of Jeonghan's feelings. A crush you could understand, something small like an affection with an expiration date you could understand. You could understand the curiosity that grew in the past month.
But Seungcheol's words didn't point to that, Seungcheol's words were actually pointing in the opposite direction of that.
And if you were being honest with yourself, that made you afraid.
“I talked with Seungcheol,” you blurt out when Jeonghan finally arrives.
“Yeah, we are not going there,” Jeonghan says seriously, without looking at you - avoiding you at every cost. It is a tell, a clue that he doesn't want to talk about it. You don't want either, if you could you would never go there again, but you need to, because living things like they are right now, messy and all over the place aren't working.
“Jeonghan,” you groan, “we need to talk about everything that happened in Vegas, his wedding is in a few weeks."
“I think you were there when he said I wasn't invited so I am not really following right now," Jeonghan says his voice stuffy because his head is inside the fridge in search of something, maybe he is just trying to not look at you.
"He told me you are not answering his calls," You tell him, and before Jeonghan says anything he just scoffs and closes the fridge door without taking anything out. He doesn't actually move, but he doesn't look at you either, his head is hanging off his shoulders, and you know Jeonghan so well that you know that nothing will make him move. You know you are not going to win, but yet you press it on, because you are tired of things being left unsaid, of Jeonghan bottling everything out and things ending up being your fault.
"Why are you being so fucking stubborn about this?" You ask watching Jeonghan just shake his head, "he is your best friend."
“Yeah like Seungcheol’s is flawless,” he bites back.
“Jeonghan this is not the point right now-" You start before he cuts you off.
“It is never the point right?” He asks you, finally looking at you, still holding his weight on the counter, "Is never the point, is never the right time, is never them it is always me fucking it up because it is Jeonghan he is not serious, he can take it, you guys can go on and on and god forbid if someone doesn't wanna take more bullshit from you."
“Come one don’t get angry with me,” you plead.
“Of course, right, I can't even get angry," Jeonghan says before he heads to walk out of the kitchen.
"Jeonghan," You almost beg making him stop and look at you, "we really need to talk about everything."
"Talk about everything or for you to be Seungcheol's spokesperson?" He says, and when you don't answer he completes, "Then no, we are not talking”
“Of course, because that will solve everything," you say almost groaning, "he is your best friend for god's sake, he still thinks we are in a somewhat relationship, he wants to talk to you, he feels guilty for being an asshole. He is sorry." You try almost stomping your feet at every word.
"Well, good for him," Jeonghan says like words don't have enough weight to make him care.
"Come on Jeonghan I'm trying here," you whine.
"Trying to do what exactly?" He asks, "Did you ever think about what actually happened since Vegas?" He says finally looking at you, and you feel even worse. He almost laughs when you don't answer. "Okay, I did, I spent every single second thinking about it and I am really fucking tired of thinking about it. I tried to put it through a different lens, I tried to put myself in other people's shoes, I tried to be reasonable and understand everyone, look I really did, and I did a great job understanding that you forgot the whole damn thing, of course, you can forget me telling you that I am head over hills for you sure, you can forget that you were the one who kissed me back then sure, of course it happens, I mean," Jeonghan scoffs, "I understand for years what is a few more months right?"
"Jeonghan-"
"No, let me finish this because somehow it will be my fault again so let me make everything clear," he says - back again looking at every corner around the kitchen but not laying an eye on you; "Seungcheol knows, he always knew about everything, he knows how many girlfriends gave me fucking ultimatum and I always choose you. He knows how many women broke up with me because they knew I was in love with you, sure, everyone in my fucking life knew but you - I understand that too sure," he stops, breathing loudly and you feel the lump around your throat way to thigh, "and he fucking knows that if I could I would've got over this sooner, so yeah, maybe I was too fucking sensitive when my friend act like I was a fucking coward who has commitment issues and would never do anything about it sure, it's my fault great, I can be responsible for that. I can take that sure, I can take Seungcheol, what I can't take is you playing dumb after last night, that I can't take it, and to be fair I don't want to, I don't have to, and you don't have a lot of excuses this time, I guess you remember right? And I think that time I made myself pretty clear so this time you must know right?"
You have been building your life around Jeonghan's for years. In a way, Jeonghan's life and yours were beautifully intricate, to the point that you weren't quite sure where one ended and one began. You think about how would your life be without Jeonghan's presence, and how would your future look like. And that scared the shit out of you.
"And that took you how many years Jeonghan?"
"Don't do that," he says and his voice feels almost small.
"Sure, I am sorry if I'm being fucking selfish right now, but you had your own time to think about everything, right? You have had years to come to your own terms? I'm freaking out here, do you think that's easy for me? Do you think it is easy to think about the aftermath if this goes wrong Jeonghan? Sure I understand that maybe that is your tipping point great, I understand that, but you are my friend and I don't fucking know how we will go on if we fuck everything up," you laugh, "I think we already passed that apparently."
"We didn't fuck it up," Jeonghan says, "Why can't you trust me for once?"
"I do," You say, and it is the truth, you trust Jeonghan with your life, "I do, I am just scared. You took your time to figure everything out, but every time I look back now I think about everything you didn't tell me,"
"I told you everything," Jeonghan says and you can almost feel his desperation, "I was sincere about everything,"
"Now you are just telling lies," you say laughing dryly.
"Sure I didn't tell you everything, but the things I haven't told you are small in comparison."
"The fact that you like me isn't small Jeonghan," you say, and it finally downs on you, that this - his feelings are a huge thing that you can't quite hide.
"What I am trying to say is-" Jeonghan says, finally taking steps and getting closer to you, "I will not go anywhere," you hear him - even though it feels like he is whispering, "even if we fuck up, even if this doesn't work out, I will not go anywhere, if that's what you are afraid of then you have nothing to be afraid. I won't go anywhere because that would kill me more than would hurt you, and even though everyone around me thinks I am a masochist I would prefer not to die."
"I would rather not hurt you," you say and you feel like you could cry, "I am sorry if I ever did."
"You did," Jeonghan says, taking your hand, and holding it firmly like that act alone can show you how serious he is, "but nothing I couldn't take, even If you hurt me again, I can take it, I will take it." 
Even if both of you don't want to, things stay a little weird between the two of you for some time. Like both of you are back to being so conscious of each other presence that it is just weird to jump right back at it, or, actually, take a step in another direction. But things fall back into place - more because of Jeonghan’s attitude than yours. He is the one that calls you for dinner, and he is the one that hugs you when you enter the kitchen.
He is the one that is trying to make things not weird. And you love him for it, you just love him, heatedly.
And the thing is, you always loved Jeonghan, but somehow, this kind of love and appreciation feels new and it is so scary, it makes you realize how everything is so fragile. But, at the same time - it makes you curious, it makes you wonder, it makes you act first just to see Jeonghan’s reaction.
Like when Jeonghan’s is whining about something and how he wants to quit his work so bad and you just hug him - almost melting against his back, placing your chin against his should and you can see Jeonghan freeze for a few seconds before he starts to pay attention on the food again.
Or when you start to watch a movie together and Jeonghan just melts in your lap, falling asleep while your hand goes through his hair. The next day when you whine about it he sweats to God he didn't sleep, he was paying attention to the movie, if you want to he can say the whole movie plot and all.
When the first Ttoram prototype arrives you are so excited that when you both place the little bunny on the dinner table, when she flops down - face diving because her head is too big - you are so happy for him that you just hold his face and place a quick kiss on his lips. Jeonghan looking at you wide-eyed. You almost start to laugh before you mutter:
“I told you, her head is too big,” you say trying to place Ttoram upright again.
“It is her charm, her brain is so big that she is dumb,” He says his voice weirdly fond, hands on your body pulling you into him.
“Yoon Jeonghan,” You stare at him - that weird mischievous smile on his lips, “what is that supposed to mean?”
“You should be honored,” Jeonghan says, holding your face almost making you yelp because his hands are so freaking cold, “You are my muse after all.”
And you almost curse him. But the thing is Jeonghan is cute, so will let it pass.
The thing is most of the time you are giggling and kicking your feet at everything Jeonghan does - that crush is so weird because you used to be stronger than that, now you are just falling in all of his antics, and boy doesn't he love it.
He just says the weirdest things out of nowhere just so he can hear your laugh. He holds you every time he has a chance, just pulling you close to hug you. But his favorite part of this new thing is how movie night now is just the two of you starting a movie to just act like a horny teenager.
Jeonghan is always the one who initiates it in a way. Sometimes is just caressing your arm before you start kissing him and licking against his mouth. Sometimes he feels bold enough and places his hand under your hoodie. The details always change but he always ends up with a hard-on and feeling like his younger self.
And it is happening again, his cock is hard, and he can barely hear the movie that is playing on the tv because you are kissing him and he can feel himself melting against the bed, like his whole body is going limp.
It is stronger than him, really. He wants to stay calm and collected but before he knows it he is already a whimpering mess, fingers digging in on your waist, his hips moving on their own, searching for some kind of pressure.
It is such a weird feeling, feeling so boneless and yet, feeling like he is a string - being pulled thigh enough he is about to snap at any minute.
When you break the kiss Jeonghan almost whines but before he can say anything you are already kissing his jaw so he just breathes loudly - accepting everything you want to give him.
“Can I suck you off?” You ask low on Jeonghan’s ears and he almost drop dead right there, like a fucking high schooler, like a teenager who just cum on his pant and drop dead when see a woman naked. And that would be fucking humiliating. He waited for so long he can't just burst a fucking nut in his own pants.
Jeonghan wants to answer you, he wants to say yes and maybe even mutter a please and thank you but somehow his brain is not even working properly, he is beyond dumb. But his dick is hard against his pants and he cannot even think properly - his brain is working overcapacity right now to try to take everything in.
So he does the only thing he can do in the moment - he pulls you into a kiss, and it is messy but Jeonghan doesn’t really care, focusing on the way you taste against his tongue. Jeonghan feels your cold hand against his stomach and he almost jumps at the spot, but you just whimper against his mouth when he does the same thing.
Jeonghan thinks the two of you are beyond niceties - you just told him you want his dick in your mouth, so he lets his desires win, while one of his hands is holding your waist under your shirt, the other one he uses to grope your ass. He squeezes your ass and at the same time, he tries to get your body even closer. You end up with your leg over him, across his hips, Jeonghan with his last functioning neuron takes the chance to shove his hand under your shorts too.
“Han,” you say when you come up for air, hand still splayed across Jeonghan’s body. “Come on,” you try again whining.
“Hm?” Jeonghan questions, his eyes almost closed and his head bent.
“You don’t want to?” You ask, voice low, taking the time that he uses to think about an answer to trail your lips across his neck, sucking at his skin, “I really want to but if you don't that's okay?”
“Hm?” Jeonghan mumbles - for a second he has no idea what are you talking about, his mind focused on how you feel against his hands, the weight of your body against him, how every curve of your body is pressed against his, how you smell and you taste.
“Suck you off,” you say again against his neck, almost petulantly like Jeonghan isn't paying attention, and he really isn't, but you shouldn't blame a man.
“Fuck,” he says almost whimpering.
Jeonghan was never like this - in his life nor in bed. He was never a mess, not to this point. Jeonghan always pretended to be somewhat collected, holding the strings of his life tight enough he could make his own choices, but it was never like that when the topic was you. So when the feeling pools on his belly, a reaction to how your fingers feel against his throat, taking matters into your hands when you grab Jeonghan's chin and maneuver his face in an angle so you can have access to more of his skin.
Jeonghan thinks he can die like this - almost dry-humping your leg. But apparently, you have other plans, your hand tugging at his joggers. Jeonghan's only reaction is to lift his hips, trying to help. It doesn't help much, but it is enough for you to shove your hands under his underwear, making Jeonghan shiver. When your hand finally finds his dick he almost melts, the tip of your things trying to map out everything before you apply pressure on it. He moans softly before closing his eyes.
He wants to be patient and wants to take whatever you give him, but the truth is he can't quite hold back anymore. His hands left your body so he can get hold of your face, kissing you. "Want to see you," he tells you, using all his strength to take one of the straps of your pajamas down. Kissing your shoulders, trying to map your collarbones with his mouth.
When Jeonghan tries to move the strap down your arm you don't budge, shaking your head telling him no, "don't want to stop touching you," and Jeonghan almost short circuit when your hand wraps around him and give his dick a few tugs.
"I know baby," Jeonghan coos, almost delirious out of his mind, his hand holds your wrist and takes out of his cock and the way that you just whine makes him even more desperate. His whole body is limp, almost melting. Jeonghan thinks he might die if he doesn't get naked, but he is too entertained with the view of your boobs in his face.
He knows there is an easier way to do this but fuck it, he is not in his right mind. Instead of taking out your flimsy excuse of a pajama Jeonghan just shoves It down, tugging at the end of the fabric while he kisses your chest. The way that you hold his head is so delicate that makes Jeonghan feel weirdly treasured even if he is completely debauched lapping at your skin. And Jeonghan takes his time, appreciating every inch of your skin
He could spend hours like this, he thinks - almost melting against you, kissing your chest lazily. He drags his tongue across your skin until he can reach your nipple, his hands come up your body until he can grab your boob so he can angle just right before his mouth is back to your body. Jeonghan thinks he can die like that, it would be a good way to go - your fucking tits on his face, your body pressed on his, his hard-on against your thigh, everything feels dizzy. When you shove your chest on Jeonghan's face, holding his face against you, he just takes it because he is so down and so horny that taking it is the only thing he can do.
"Hannie," you call and Jeonghan really just has enough strength to look up at you, without his mouth leaving your chest, "Just let me-" you try to say without much control of your own situation.
It is not like you are in your right mind either. Jeonghan's hands feels warm on your skin, and he holds you so tight that you think about the aftermath of his grip - you should make a mental note to check for marks after this, and that alone makes you tremble. You can only think about how Jeonghan's body feels against yours, how his mouth is still on you, and you want to cry because it is just so good but not enough. You feel you might cry. Or worse, die.
You press Jeonghan down until his back is pressed down on the mattress. And God he is so pretty, it makes you almost feel delirious.
When you sit down on Jeonghan's hips he feels like he is almost dying. Everyone he ever wanted felting very pale in comparison when he lay his eyes on you - hair already a mess, lips red from kissing him, flimsy shirt pooling at your waist. Your hands sneak under his shirt, and he almost laughs, damn he must be looking so dumb right now - feeling and behaving like a fucking virgin while his crush is on his lap, taking her time with him. You lift Jeonghan's shirt, dragging your hands underneath it, almost whining and frustrated when the shirt doesn't stay around his neck. Cute - he thinks, when you pout Jeonghan realizes he said that out loud.
"Just take it off," you whine again, tugging at his shirt.
Jeonghan just nods, holding your hips for leverage until he is sitting upright, holding the back of his shirt and taking it off in record time, before Jeonghan lies down again he feels your hand on his chin, holding him so you can kiss him again. Damn, he is lucky. But before he can think another thought you are pushing him back on the bad again, his hand on your hips.
Your hands travel on his body, caressing him - making him feel so close to losing his mind it is almost ridiculous. When Jeonghan's feels your fingers graze his neck he feels almost delirious, when your hand palms his chest and your digits press against his nipples it Is his time to whine, he almost feels like it is just too much, maybe he is closer than a step away from coming in his pants.
One of your hands is splayed against Jeonghan's stomach when the other one tugs  the waistline of his pants, pulling the elastic band and letting it hit against Jeonghan's skin. You shuffle around his hips, sitting on his thighs now and Jeonghan is ready to complain when you tug on his pants again, this time actually getting the cloth to move and get it stopped by Jeonghan's hard-on.
"Baby," Jeonghan mumbles, "that's too much," he tries again, but apparently there is nothing he can say to make you stop - and in all honestly he doesn't want you to.
Jeonghan thinks he will die if he doesn’t get his dick free. Even though he doesn’t want to he takes the hand off your ass so he can take down his joggers, shoving his underwear down at the same time, his other hand still firm on your waist.
When your fingers close against Jeonghan’s shaft he almost sees stars. You give him a few experimental tugs. He feels so breathless, how is that even possible?
You almost scoff, looking at how even his dick is pretty - really, you should complain because it is so unfair. You press your finger on his slit, collecting the drop of precum, and the way that his dick twitch it makes your mouth water, but before you can even complete your thoughts Jeonghan’s hand is holding your face and bringing it down to another kiss.
If it was up to Jeonghan he would kiss you the whole night, but you had other ideas, using one hand to shove him until he is lying again when the other one is still on his dick. He is pretty sure he can feel your taste against your mouth but yet he feels parched. When you start to press kisses on his body, the only thing Jeonghan can do is take it.
Jeonghan thinks you want to wreck him. He feels you press your lips against his nipples, his hips buckling on its own, and you stroke his dick a little bit harder. Jeonghan can barely breathe, yet, without wasting a second you are doing it again - pressing your lips to his other nipple and licking it.
Before he can even wrap his mind around that you start to lick his belly and Jeonghan almost sees stars. He just feels everything, and apparently, your tongue dragging against his skin goes straight to his dick. Jeonghan doesn't know how, but he lifts himself up on his elbows, the view alone could make him cum - you still kissing him, lips on his hips, pressing Jeonghan's dick against his tummy, fingers rubbing his frenulum and he is just so sensitive that he groans before he can hold your hand making you stop.
"Too sensitive?" You ask and why the fuck do you sound so out of it when Jeonghan is being pulled and pushed around the edge?
"A little," Jeonghan answers breathlessly, his tongue dry against his mouth.
"Ok, noted," you say before doing something even worse - placing your lips on the same place before kissing the tip of his dick.
You wrap your lips around Jeonghan can't really control himself, he just pushes his hips slightly so you can take more of him, and god when you moan around him almost makes Jeonghan forget every trace of decency and good bed etiquette. But damn you just look so beautiful sucking his dick, one of your hands digging on his thigh and the other one still wrapped around his dick that it is physically impossible to not thrust his hips up.
"God," Jeonghan says and he sounds so defeated against his own ears, "fuck, you are so pretty," he tries again, looking at you and when he sees you looking up at him, eyes almost twinkling with the praise. And his mind almost snaps - oh, you felt that didn't you? The joy of discovering something every time Jeonghan's hips snapped. He gets it now. It is almost like a power trip. "So pretty, taking my cock," Jeonghan tries again and he almost can feel your moan against his dick before he can hear it.
Every word that Jeonghan mutters makes you take more of his dick into your mouth until he is hitting the back of your throat, god and how he can take that? Your lips around him, your tongue dancing around his dick, the hollowing of yours checks each time you suck him. He is delirious and out of his mind. He tries his best, he really does, but his hips have a mind of its own, and before he knows it he is thrusting up again making you gag around him.
Then your mouth leaves his dick and Jeonghan feels like he is about to collapse, everything just feels so much - the sound, the spit trail, the way your breath is irregular, fanning against his skin - and yet the intensity of feeling nothing makes him mind spin a little bit.
"Come here," Jeonghan mutters trying to catch his own breath. You crawl up his body and Jeonghan can only focus on how messy you look, lips glossy and pink, and he can see the faintest trail of spit on the corner of your lips, he presses his lips there before he drags his fingers on your lips, "I let you suck my cock, can I fuck you now?"
"Please?" You ask back and Jeonghan can feel his dick twitching.
"How do you want me?" Jeonghan says tugging at the bottom of your shorts and he almost laughs when you just shove everything down at once - and he could laugh really, at your desperation but first, he is way worse than you, second you are so pretty that he can't wrap his mind around the fact that everything he conjured up in his mind every time he thought about you when he was lazily stroking himself didn't do you justice.
"You can stay like that," you say, and before Jeonghan can mutter an answer you are already placing your knees on the sides of his hips, his hands automatically going to your waist, his mouth pressing against your collar bones.
One of your hands goes to Jeonghan's jaw, just holding slightly, while the other one wraps around Jeonghan's dick again - and he swears he would say something but his mind goes completely blank when you press your pussy on his dick. Your hips moving to make his cock disappear between your folds, making it drag against your clit, Jeonghan can feel how wet you are and god everything just feels so hot - he feels tight all over, like his muscles are contracting, even the ones he didn't know he had.
"Are you getting off like this?" Jeonghan questions and his only answer is a whine and your hips buckling against him, "Come on baby," Jeonghan tries again, hand now holding your hip, guiding your movements, "I can-" Jeonghan breathes, he doesn't want to say it but, "If you keep going like that, pussy so pretty against my cock, I will cum before I-"
"God," you groan against his shoulder, "can you really?"
"Yeah," Jeonghan almost laugh, his hand grabbing your ass. Of course, he can, he could've come already, but he is dragging this off, he is holding himself back. "Babe," Jeonghan calls you, mouth hot against your neck, "I could've come on your mouth, I'm so hard it is almost painful,"
"Can we-" You almost hiccup, "can we like that" you mumble again, "you can fuck me later," you say and Jeonghan almost sees white.
God, he could cum like that this wasn't even a question, the question was could you? The fact that you were over the edge like him was enough to drive him crazy.
Every time you drag your hips against him Jeonghan's let out a little moan, and he feels so wrecked that he just plants his lips on your neck, sucking at your skin. Jeonghan does not know if it is a reaction or is just because he is losing his mind but he can tell you are getting faster, the rhythm getting a little off, the way you breathe against him, everything just seems too much, and Jeonghan can't take it anymore.
The world stops spinning for a bit - everything just stays still.
Jeonghan is out of it until the sound of your breath brings him back. You are almost pouting. "Did you?" Jeonghan asks, himself breathless too.
"No," You whine and you feel so frustrated that Jeonghan pities you a little bit.
"It's okay," he says - because it is he will take care of it, it's not a problem.
But when Jeonghan looks down he almost cums again. It is so messy. Why there is so much cum? God, he blinks at the view - trying to take everything but mainly you, hovering on his lap.
"Han," You call and Jeonghan is brought back to reality.
"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he says, and it is not like he is in control anymore, his mind Is just gone, he just drops his hand - scooping his own cum and placing it own your pussy. You moan so loudly and Jeonghan can feel your desperation, pressing his digits more firmly against your clit, "Like that?" He questions and you can only nod your head, words falling. Jeonghan holds you close to him, your chest against his, your hand still going between your legs, his other hand holding your waits, "Fuck how can you be so hot," he starts going making you feel a light-headed, "I will eat you later okay?" Jeonghan says, "Don't worry, I will eat you out and I will let you fuck me, you just need to tell me what you need."
"Just," You hiccup, "Just like that."
Jeonghan listens to you, even though the position is not the best to his wrist and he could do so much better - but you just keep babbling on and on about how you are almost there, how he just needs to stay like that, how you are feeling so good that he listens to you, how could he not when you are almost coming undone against his fingers?
And then you bring Jeonghan's face up to a kiss, his mind was too focused on his fingers disappearing against your folds to catch on earlier, but you don't seem to mind when you lick against his mouth and finally cum. Jeonghan holds you against his body for a few seconds when he finally hears you groan.
"God I am so sticky," you complain and he finally laughs.
Jeonghan though, keeps his promise and he eats you out after that, and he fucks you too, and then, he just forgets he has his own room.
It is weird how much you two fit each other. And how seamlessly you two turn into boyfriend-girlfriend situations, or legally, husband-wife, but who cares about silly papers really?
Everything is normal really - Jeonghan keeps saying he need just a better Ttoram version before you two start promoting on social media. You two keep sharing dinners, and Jeonghan even makes a point about how the two of you need to go on a date. You bribe him, telling him he needs to call Cheol before the wedding - and he just shrugs and picks his phone up calling his best friend, you almost scream, it was that easy?
You two share everything, you don't know why but Jeonghan just chooses your bed to sleep in, you question him saying you want to sleep on his bed too - it just smells like you, is nice - he says before making a weird noise after face planting one of your pillows. 
It comes to the point that you get weirded out when you wake up and he is not on your bed. When you pick yourself up and finally drag your body out of the bed - something weird happens, an unknown voice resonates in your house - okay not yours, Jeonghan's but...
You find Jeonghan in the kitchen, back facing you, sipping a cup of tea with another woman. A very gentle elderly lady, her hair is almost all white, and everything about her screams grandma. She sees you before you can say anything,
"Hi dear," even her voice is gentle.
"Han?" You ask when Jeonghan stares at you, eyes fondly taking up your sleepy self.
"Hey baby, come here," He says opening his arms, "come here Iris was talking about how she was visiting her third grandson can you believe that?"
You could, sure, everything about her screamed grandma in uppercase letters, but what was happening?
"Yes," the old lady answers, "where was I?" she claps before she picks back up again, "See like I was telling you, Aroon's mom is my youngest daughter, and her pregnancy hadn't been the easiest so that's why I couldn't bring the table back," she says and you neck almost snaps, looking at Jeonghan's, he is so proud of himself that you almost scream. "So I'm sorry dear, your husband told me how much it meant to you but I was out of town so-"
God, he looks so proud and so full of himself, he couldn't be happier right now. God, you are so deeply in love with him. You could marry him all over again.
[BONUS SCENE ONE - THE WEDDING}
“Are we doing this for real?” You ask and the world is kinda spinning a little bit, by your side, Jeonghan holds your hand. You both stare at this little chapel, the Elton John one because you said that you would prefer to be married with don't go breaking my heart, Tiny Dancer or even Berry and the Jets as a soundtrack than any of the Elvis’s songs and of course Jeonghan listened, he listened to everything you said. What a fucker, how could you not be in love with this guy? What? Wait-
“Of course, we are doing this, we made a bet,” Jeonghan says still staring at the chapel.
“Only because we made a bet,” you say looking at him. When Jeonghan turns his head to look at you something inside you sings a bit - like a doll with something in the inside broke and jiggling inside.
“Of course darling, only because we made a bet,” Jeonghan says, holding your hand firmly, he smiles at you, and out of nowhere he is running inside the building and you follow him around because why not?
It seemed like a fucking great idea, and you both did lose the bet, even though right now you can't really think straight - how does a bet work? Can both people lose a bet at the same time? You are not totally sure but you guess Jeonghan is right, it can happen.
[BONUS SCENE TWO - BIOGRAPHY]
When Jeonghan finally opens the hotel door you almost fall in the room, but before you fall face flat on the floor Jeonghan's hands save you from breaking your nose.
“Wow, what a gentlemanly husband I have,” You say, tapping his chest.
“Sure, sure, perfect husband material right here,” Jeonghan says pointing at himself the door still open.
“You are,” you gushed, hands on his shoulders searching for some kind of balance, using these high heels shows was so wrong, but you knew at least you would be pretty in your wedding pics, and in the end, that’s all that matters - the pictures for your own autobiography that you will make for your grandchildren. You always told Jeonghan that you would make one for him too, with every single thing he gave you as a safe keep and the collection of pictures you have of him in different times of his life. You have pictures of Jeonghan with his long hair, with his short hair, the time he died it was almost white because he thought it would be so so cool and ended up hating how it fucked up his scalp. You had the material, you had the story, and you could do his biography, the funny thing now it is that his grandchildren could be yours too.
“What are you laughing at?” Jeonghan says, kneeling at your feet and taking your shoes off, wow, a life-saver.
“I just thought about grandchildren,” you squealed in a high-pitched voice that you didn’t know you had until Jeonghan’s hand found your hips.
“Grandchildren?”He asks you softly.
“The biographies,” you say and Jeonghan nods, “I was thinking about how I always pictured us together when we were gray and old in a nursing home together all that jazz, but know that I thought about it, your family will be my family so the grandchild will be the same kids, I won’t do your biography for your grandchildren I will do your biography for my grandchildren as well that changes a lot of things,”
“Like what?” He asks amused
“I don’t know if I want to tell them about the time you were sure to have gonorrhea or something like that”
“I do think we can let this story die with us,”
“wait, now that I am thinking about it like we only have one family," You say, a pouting on your lips, and Jeonghan almost melts, "that means only one visit in the nursing home because like when our family as separate entities we would have two families so two visit yours and mine now that I think about it I think we should divorce
“We are not divorcing," Jeonghan says.
“We can annul It,” you try again.
“We won't do it,” Jeonghan says, shaking his head like you are talking nonsense.
“But two visits are better than one,” You say showing him your fingers and trying to make him understand that two are indeed better than one, boys like girls even sang about this, was Jeonghan dumb?
“I won't have a family if it isn't your family,” Jeonghan says plopping down on the bed.
“Of course you can have a family,” you are sure of it Jeonghan is amazing there is nothing stopping him.
“But I don't want to,” Jeonghan whines looking at you and you get it, you finally get it.
“Damn boy you are crazy about me,” you say laughing, laying on his side.
“Now you are catching up,” Jeonghan says while his arms close around you.
“Still think two is a bigger number”
[BONUS SCENE - SHOULD WE?]
Jeonghan, your husband of three years, is eating on the kitchen counter and you can almost hear the gears in his brain turning and twisting. Sometimes, you think that maybe, Jeonghan is like a toy that he built the week prior, if you pick him up and shake him around you can hear loose parts of him rattling inside of himself.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask while opening the fridge.
“Should we go to Vegas again?” He asks taking a bit of his breakfast.
“Vegas?” you say - your head peaking and your body stretched so you can face him while the fridge door is open. 
“I was thinking we should renew our vows,” he says like he is thinking about buying lunch because he cannot bring himself to cook, “you know, I want you to actually remember our wedding.”
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fantasyinallforms · 7 months
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Oh yeah, I think it's time to talk about Thorin's introduction scene in the first Hobbit movie because I've never seen a man fall in love so quickly. Now, first off, they really build up who Thorin is with the dramatics of everyone stopping when he knocks and Gandalf saying, "He's here." Then, we cut to the actual opening of the door. See the GIF below.
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Few things here. First, look at that confidence and swagger. Did he have to strike a pose when the door was opened? No, but he did because Thorin Oakenshield is nothing if not dramatic. He is also not blushing, nor does he look even vaguely surprised, just smirk and swagger. It's important to note he has not seen Bilbo at all yet. It's also important to note that in the next few seconds, he doesn't actually see Bilbo.
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Look at these GIFs. My man is doing anything but looking at Bilbo. He can hear Bilbo. He's fixing his coat and smiling at Kili. The movie makes it explicitly clear when the first time he gets a good look at Bilbo is. Take a look.
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Did you see it? The exact moment that he actually saw Bilbo. It's hard to miss, given his eyes grow like three times, and his pupils explode, but let's watch it in slow-mo and zoomed in anyway.
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His whole mouth is hanging open like a caught fish. This is the closest to immediate heart eyes I have seen in my life. He's even blushing! Go look at his cheeks in the first gif compared to this one. He looks like he just found the meaning of happiness. It doesn't even stop there because the next bit is just as fun.
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Thorin takes a full step forward like he's being yanked by a chain, and the look on his face isn't just curiosity he's starstruck. That's a genuine twinkle in those deep blues. Now don't get me wrong, Thorin goes on to insult Bilbo and dismiss him outright. What can I say, he's smoop, but he's about as emotionally constipated as it gets. Those insults, however, are a secondary reaction. It's very hard to fake a first reaction to something you're not expecting, and Gandalf told Thorin basically nothing about their soon-to-be burglar. This was his first genuine reaction to Bilbo, and it sets the stage for every interaction after it because if Thorin Oakenshield struggles with one thing from this point forward, it's keeping his eyes off of Bilbo Baggins.
~~~
More deep dives like this can be found by searching the pinned tag #deep dive on my page ❤️
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xxxsaturnxx · 2 months
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König head cannons
As requested on my most recent poll!! I did try to keep it very neutral and ‘fluffy’. Please let me know who else i should write for im always looking for new ideas!!
König keeps a little journal with him at all times when he’s deployed. Just something to vent at or doodle in. He’s not the best artist but he tries, he even has small doodles in almost every page that kind of look like you.
His journal is VERY private the only person thats allowed to take a peak in there every now and then is you. Sometimes when he’s busy somewhere else in the house and he leaves his journal unattended you put tiny love notes in the corners of the pages.
While he’s not deployed König has three moods. Couch potato, horn dog, and the biggest ball of energy anyones ever seen.
König in couch potato mode is just a giant weighted blanket. He’ll lay on the couch taking up the entire couch just watching a movie or show of his choosing. You can try to join him but only if you can lift a part of him up, and if you can’t the floor or his lap would do fine.
König while he’s all energetic can mean a couple things for you. He’ll either want you to join him on a run or hike, but his idea of a small hike or a short run might just kill you half way through.
NSFW MDNI
When könig is riled up he’s practically glued to you in someway. His hands would most likely fall on your chest or waist trying to feel every inch of skin he can reach. His mouth would be marking you all over your neck, chest, and legs are going to be covered with bite marks and hickes red and sore.
Sometimes when he’s particularly desperate humping is to be expected. In those times you can bring down this massive 6’10 hulking man into nothing more than a whiny mess, Begging for your touch. He’ll look up at you while on his knees with those beautiful ocean eyes begging for any kind of attention/friction.
If hes just gotten back from deployment best believe the first thing hes looking for is you. He’ll drop everything at the door slamming it with his foot. The second he spots you his hands and lips are all over you. He mumbles against your skin about how much hes missed you before taking your lips into his.
Later that day he makes sure that you feel every inch second hes missed you. Almost breaking the bed, couch, you and table throughout the night. He does make sure to slow down every once and a while to just love on you and to also give you a break.
Königs stamina is very well above average much like the rest of him. He understands that breaks are important so you don’t break. ( as euphoric as it would be)
His after care routine is just as much for you as it is for him. Back rubs, bathroom trips and head scratches are some favorites but just having him there still breathing heavy wiping the sweat from your brow and giving you soft kisses all over your face is definitely on the top of all favorites.
König rarely loses control when you’re together, always couscous of how you feel and react. But there are those moments when he just snaps in the best way possible.
Sometimes he snaps before hes even entered you and he just grips the base of your head and positions you like you’re nothing more than a rag doll. König just relentlessly thrusting in and out of you while hes holding you still with one hand pushing your head down by your neck and the other sinking into your hip.
Other times könig and you are mid stroke when he snaps. Positioning you under him almost being crushed by his weight. He mindlessly pounds into you like a wild animal, both times ending with him filling you over and over again till hes had his fill, leaving you dripping and cock drunk.
It is almost guaranteed that you wake up the next morning sore and bruised but very satisfied. He’ll apologize for losing control by pampering you the entire day, so expect a lot of cuddles, kisses, and being fed your favorite foods.
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xzaddyzanakinx · 3 months
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Four: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, sexual content, pervy behavior, male masturbation, panty kink, sex daydreams [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Anakin is doing his very best, he just loves you and wants you to be comfy around him. Just let him worm his way into your heart babe [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. I’m illiterate so apologies in advance MDNI 18+
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Diary Entry: July 8th
Mr. Nelson’s funeral was today, it really was a beautiful ceremony as I look back on it. Even more so when my inner self smears the background enough to bring you to the front of the mental image.
You’d spoken to the man a handful of times, but I didn’t expect you to come. When I saw you accept the invite to the event on Facebook I thought surely it was a mistake. That was until you messaged Luke and asked him to accompany you, funerals make you nervous, but feeling obligated to do something and avoiding it makes you more nervous.
So your moral support was happy to attend and fight off dear old Alan’s corpse should he rise from the casket and set his sights on you.
And I though I had irrational fears, geez babydoll, how old were you when you watched Night of The Living Dead for the first time? If I had to guess it was too young. It’s alright though I get it, you know what movie traumatized me? The Mummy. Heebied my fucking Jeebies so bad I avoided the beach on family vacations.
You’re telling me there’s not a sarcophagus under all that sand? There’s at least one under there and you can’t convince me otherwise.
Solid ground for me only, please and thank you.
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
I had a thought that I initially considered to be a sweet reminder of my dear friend Alan. His obituary was in the newspaper and I happened to swipe one from the guest book table at the viewing as well. Have you ever scrapbooked before? I bet you’ve at least tried it.
Well I thought it would be nice to make him a page in my journal. A little celebration of life for the man who gave me an opportunity to grow and nurture my love for you.
Then I realized mid-glue stick on the newspaper clipping that the idea was something that a clinically insane person would do.
I’m not that guy. That guy’s not me.
But the glue was already on there and it felt wrong to toss Alan’s wrinkly old face into the trash so I pasted him into my journal anyway.
Crazy people don’t know that they’re crazy. I’m well aware that little idea was less than tasteful, just felt like I should mention that.
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Date:
July 28th
Anakin Skywalker hadn’t been this happy since… ever. The previous record being his discovery of you, was now toppled into second place and overshadowed by ‘Move In Day’.
He could hardly contain himself. It was a dopamine high that he would ride out until he’d drained every last drop.
The movers lugged in box after box, furniture and books, until finally they dropped off the last load and thanked Anakin for the business. He eagerly shook their hand and shoved them out. He had preparations to make.
He set up his Tv, screen mirroring the live feed of the apartment building entrance to the big screen so that he could easily keep an eye out for you while he unpacked his kitchen.
He’d planned your ‘meet-cute’ meticulously, looking to your bookshelf and streaming services to gather intel on your ideal scenario. You were an odd bird, but he liked that about you. It’s part of your charm, it’s part of the challenge. You’re not as predictable in your tastes and interests as others can be.
Anakin formulated the interaction step by step, frame by frame in the storyboard of his imagination until he had the perfect scene. His box office hit that he’d replay over and over again until the next time he stood face to face with you.
It took quite some time and a load of practice. Discarded dialogue, awkward movements that made him feel stiff and less than human when he practiced them in the mirror. Endless options of clothes, shoes, and hair.
Should he get a new piercing? He wanted to. So he did, he knew you’d like it.
It’d match the one he already had on the opposite nostril. It made him feel more complete to add something so permanent to his body, he wished he could do something similar with you. He wanted you to be permanent, so maybe it’s his subconscious’s way of telling him that this was going in the right direction.
He was on the right path. His journey of life alone was coming to a close and a new trail would reveal itself. No more rocky, unsteady tread. No more sharp turns and blind spots, no more impossible inclines.
Scraped knees and bloodied hands would be distant memories. Maybe even distant enough that he could toss them into The Pit.
He would have no need for anger or sorrow anymore.
How could he feel anything but the warm embrace of love as he strolled down the flowered path ahead with you?
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Who knew that you could position one box in 83 different ways and hate every single one of them? Anakin was so thankful there weren’t any actual surveillance cameras in the apartment building. It’d be really difficult to explain why he was in the hallway for an hour with his hands on his hips, scooting a box of books a centimeter or two at a time. Turning it sideways and then making sure the book on top was perfectly positioned and would effectively fall to the ground to catch your attention.
He checked his watch nonstop, stared at his Tv screen, willing you to just hurry the fuck up before he vomited from anxiety. He’d waited months for this. If he fucked it up now he’d… well he’d probably keel over on the spot.
Which would promptly traumatize you and not even his ghost would be able to peacefully haunt you. It’s hard to peacefully haunt someone if they watched you die, or at least Anakin assumed it would be difficult. He wasn’t willing to test that theory though.
So, he puffed up his chest and walked back into his apartment and rehearsed the upcoming conversation a few more times. He needed, desperately needed to ensure his facial expressions conveyed what he wanted.
Soft, trustworthy, dependable, safe, caring.
He practiced softening his eyes, knowing sometimes he stared alittle too hard. He worked on his facial fidget; chewing on the inside of his cheek was a quick tell of his nervousness. He didn’t want to be perceived as nervous, he wanted to be confident and sure of himself so that you would be confident in your soon to blossom affection for him.
His eyebrows, that’s a hard one, but he’d meticulously watched bar goers trying to flirt. The successful ones he learned, sometimes use their eyebrows in place of questions or words. A difficult concept, but one he studied until he mastered it.
Now, the other facial expressions and mannerisms… he gathered that information from your watch lists on your streaming services. For the visible examples at least, but your books were just as helpful in describing how he should approach you, speak to you, and simply exist near you.
He hadn’t realized these things were this important until now. Standing and posture was surprisingly very, very important to women. As well as hand movements and subtle glances and minuscule changes of expression.
You were worth the time and effort it took to learn all of it. He’d read and research and practice until he couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror any longer. He was determined to make sure you were happy with the results.
He was startled by a loud ping, someone had entered to building and holy shit it was you.
Anakin shook out his hands frantically, remembering the breathing techniques he’d learned as a child, he grounded himself quickly.
It’s okay.
‘She’s gonna love you. She’ll warm up to you quickly, you know everything you need to know about her to make her comfortable and loved.’
‘There’s no way she won’t fall head over heels.’
He smoothed out his band-tee and ran his hands through his hair quickly and headed to his door that was propped open slightly. A few boxes sat in the hall, including the most important one, the one instrumental to his plan.
The apartment hallway was ridiculously tiny, which worked in his favor in this situation.
He heard you come up the stairs, counted your steps until he knew you were almost at the door, 17 and a half steps. Then he swung open the door and bent down to grab one of the boxes.
As expected, he startled you and you dropped your keys. You always wore your backpack on one shoulder, one strap. So when you quickly went to scoop up your keys, your bag swung out of place and toppled a few books from one of the boxes.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Anakin could gloat to himself about his magnificent setup later, right now he needed to woo you with his sweet words.
“Oh, sweetheart I’m sorry.” He said softly, coming over to offer you a hand up.
“It’s okay, my bad.” You laughed, taking his hand.
He managed to keep calm and collected despite his insides boiling him alive at the willing skin contact.
“No, not at all. It’s my fault for startling you like that.” He chuckled, squeezing your upper arm and using his hand already in yours to give you a small handshake. Smooth.
“I’m Anakin.” He said with a bashful smile, dropping your hand and reveling in the lingering warmth your palm left on his.
You introduced yourself in return, gesturing to his apartment door.
“So I take it that you’re my new neighbor huh?” You said, making small talk as you crouched down to pick up the books you’d knocked over.
“No I’m just a one man moving crew.” He grinned.
“Very funny.” You laughed, standing up as you looked through the titles. “Hmm, you’ve got good taste.”
“You think so?” He asked, remembering to make his eyebrows swoop up toward the middle of his forehead to give a quizzical look.
“Oh yeah, this is one of my favorites.” You said, showing him the cover of The Silmarillion by Tolkien.
“Not many people actually read that one, I’m impressed.” He smiled.
“Impressed? Yeah well I’m jealous.” You laughed.
“What?” He chuckled, holding his hands out to take the other books from you.
“This is a really nice edition, it’s similar to mine. I recently lost it.” You sighed. “I think I must’ve left it the park or maybe it fell out of my bag or something.”
“Ah, that sucks… well, I mean I’ve read that one a few times now. It’s been well loved.” He said tipping the books in his arms toward the one you were holding. “Why don’t you keep it?”
He shrugged, acting nonchalant as though this didn’t mean the entire world to him and if you said no he’d sob about it later.
“You’re serious?” You asked in surprise, he was offering you a 50$ special edition book and you’d barely known him for a minute.
“Yeah, ‘course sweetheart.” He said with a cute, crooked smile. “Think of it as a… reverse house warming gift.” He chuckled.
“Thank you, I- this means a lot to me.” You said, grinning widely. “That’s real sweet of you Anakin. I owe you one.”
“No worries.” He chuckled, “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it even sweetheart.” His gaze flickered quickly from your eyes to your lips, and he turned to go back into his apartment after giving you an almost-missed wink.
You stepped inside your home, and went straight to the bookshelf to put your new-to-you book where it belonged. After the fact you stood there and buffered, just staring at it.
‘There’s no way, this guy has to be too good to be true.’
But he seemed… so genuine. He didn’t ogle you, he didn’t make you feel weird or like he just felt obligated to speak to you.
He seemed to actually, really be a good guy.
Rare. Few and far of those exist in this day and age. It’s uncommon to meet someone who would do something, even as simple as giving you a used book, without expecting anything in return.
But he didn’t seem to expect anything. He didn’t seem to even expect a thank you, it was like he’d already decided he would give it to you before he even offered.
What are the odds that a hot, tattooed and pierced man moves in next door and gifts you an expensive book that just so happens to be an even better replacement for the one that you just lost? That couldn’t happen twice even if you tried to make it happen again.
What kind of second dimension did you step into? The land of dreamy men?
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Diary Entry: July 28th
It’s late. But I have to write to you, it can’t wait til tomorrow.
Everything went more perfectly than I could’ve imagined. Thank you so much for being you sweet girl. It made my job of curating the scenery so much easier, you clumsy little thing. I am sorry for having to spook you though, but it worked didn’t it?
Research pays off. Always.
And of course there’s the issue of your book, I hated to see your frustration and your mad scowl when you realized it was missing from your backpack. I really did.
But I’d do it every goddamn day if I knew I’d get the same reaction out of you from giving you that new copy.
Oh god you’re… you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful. You look angelic when you sleep but you look like competition for Aphrodite when you smile at me.
You smiled, grinned. You smiled all the way up to the corners of your bright and beautiful eyes. For me.
You even laughed for me.
It was so sweet I could taste it. The honey of your voice, I could fucking bathe in it. Just the sound of you speaking, knowing you were speaking to me. Really speaking to me.
In the flesh.
It’s intoxicating. It’s emboldening, it’s dangerous. I’ve never been more worked up in my life. I’m torn all to pieces from at two minute and 6 second conversation.
I think I’ll have to fucking recover from this like a damn hangover.
But what has me so drunk you might ask? Was it your laugh at my stupid jokes? Was it your perfect smile, your radiant glow, your soulful eyes? The softness of your skin or you willingness to let me touch you?
No baby. It’s how you said my name.
I wish I could’ve stayed longer, I wish I could’ve spoken to you more. But it’s so hard to concentrate when my dick is leaking precum down my leg at a rate that should probably be concerning.
The minute you closed that door I shoved those boxes into my apartment and locked the door. Took my elated ass straight to the couch and watched you in your living room, admiring your gift from me while I fucked my fist with a pair of your dirty panties in my mouth.
I couldn’t have your honeyed lips soothing my angry red cock just yet, but I sure as hell could imagine licking your gorgeous little cunt while I tasted you.
I tugged my balls and pumped my cock for over half an hour until I was a fucking mess for you in my new living room’s floor. The cool hardwood letting the heat from my flushed skin seep away from me as I came back down to earth.
I made myself dizzy. Didn’t give myself a break, didn’t slow down, just stroked my cock like the desperate little manwhore that I am for you. The only thing missing was you being there to watch me fall apart.
I think you’d like that wouldn’t you? Watching a man like me get on his knees and beg for you?
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Diary Entry: July 29th
I’ve replayed that moment in my head for hours on end. The beginning always stays the same, but the ending… that’s been subject to many changes. It started off simple, we’d chat alittle longer, I’d ask you how your day was; you’d tell me it was ‘fine, thank you’.
Or you’d ask me why I decided to move in, why I chose this side of town, this side of town, this apartment building, across from you. That one always ended questionably and I’d rather not explore that one on paper.
My favorites however were the ones where you’d laugh at a stupid pick-up line and somehow we’d end up in your bed. The bed I’ve sat and watched you sleep in. Those were the best additions.
Now, I’ve been fortunate enough that you’ve been loyal, faithful and devoted to only me since the very beginning. So I don’t really have a clue what you’d actually be like in bed.
But god it’s so fun to imagine it.
You’ve got such pretty, soft skin. You let me mar it up with my teeth and soothe it with my tongue. You let me grip the pillowy flesh of your thighs to spread you open for me. You let me pinch and roll and pull your nipples until they were raw and begging for a break. You let me caress the sensitive slick covered folds between those beautiful pussy lips, plunge my fingers in as far as they’d go.
I took you from behind, watching your perky little ass bounce off my cock while I plowed into you. Your face smushed against the couch cushions and your body folded over the arm rest for me to fuck you like the good little girl that you are.
Against the wall with your arms around my neck while I’ve got my hands holding you spread open and in place by the crook of your knees. You promised you stay real still so that I could drill up into you like you deserved.
God damn. Do you know how good you look like that? Back arched against the wall, tits jiggling in my face with every thrust. Your legs pushed up and back to the sides of your torso, to pin you in place?
It was like a pretty pink flower had bloomed and spread its buttery smooth petals just for me.
Don’t even get me started on how good you suck cock. Have you ever been told you could be mistaken for a warm, wet Hoover? No? Didn’t think so cause that would be rude as hell, but I bet someone’s thought it before.
(Me. It’s me, I thought that.)
Fuck those soft lips. Fuck that smooth snake of a tongue. Fuck that tight, hot throat that just loves to take a beating from my dick.
Can’t wait to prove my imagination right.
Speaking of, my dick has been beat. Like actually. If one didn’t know any better they’d assume it’s on life support, but I’m a freak of nature. Cumming upwards of 16 times in the span of 40ish hours would probably put a weaker man in a hospital bed. Or maybe a psych ward.
But I am not a weak man even if my dick feels raw. I’d still fuck you if you asked.
I’d be curious to know if I’d be able to stave off cumming longer from all the abuse or if I’d be so fucking sensitive that I wouldn’t make it in half an inch.
Probably the latter.
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Diary Entry: August 2nd
Being so close to you is killing me. Truly it is.
You’ve sunken your claws so deeply into my very soul and you don’t even realize it. It’s torture. To you, I’m just the new guy, nice dude who gave you a book. But to me? You’re my entire world.
I’ve been told I have the personality of a guard dog. Soft and squishy on the inside, dangerous and fierce on the outside. Which I suppose could be true, but really I think it’s for a different reason. For a human, a dog is one small but very impactful blip in your life. But for the dog? You are it’s life.
Am I comparing myself to a dog right now? Yes I am.
I’ll beg for you to throw me the scraps of your affections until you finally toss me a bone.
Bark.
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
I’ve been trying my best to give you space. To plan accordingly and in advance. I have our next two interactions simmering on the back burner.
I know that if I go too hard, too fast, you’ll be overwhelmed. That’s the last thing I want. I never want to be the thing that causes you stress, I want to siphon it from you. So, in one week I will set out to help you with a few of your errands and plant a few seeds.
But until then, we have late night snacks and couch chats with Boogie.
I’ve also been doing- you guessed it- more research to do with helpful vitamins and medicines. You’ve responded so well to your SleepyTime tea and since I’ve started making sure your birth control packet is plainly visible in the countertop basket directly beneath that cabinet, you’ve been taking it so well.
I’m so proud of you sweetheart, that’s my girl, look at you taking care of yourself. You’ve done so well in fact, that it’s in my personal opinion that you have earned a very special reward.
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Anakin sat on his couch, the live feed of your living room screen mirrored to his Tv. He was watching you cook dinner, he knew you’d be making a stir fry. He’d seen it in your planner, so he’d taken the liberty of ordering himself the same, it’d be here any minute. As would your good friend Sam.
Anakin had originally burned red hot with jealousy at the thought of you inviting a man over to your apartment, that he hadn’t vetted via social media and a quick drop-in. But he was relieved to discover that Sam was just a girl from your book club.
This wasn’t one of his well thought out plans, this was decided upon this morning after you’d returned from book club. So, he was anxious to see if his hunches served him well. Sam seemed like a punctual gal, at least from what he’d seen on social media and the text messages between the two of you from weeks/months before.
Anakin had the wonderful idea to log into your cell service providers website to pull your deleted messages from their data bank. You really should have better passwords.
The thing he was most worried about was his door dasher arriving on time. It was rare that one was too far off on arrival time, but it would be his shit luck and lack of planning that could ruin this little glimpse of you.
The minutes ticked by and he was alerted to the new motion sensors he’d placed near the LED pathway lights on the paved entrance to the apartment building. He quickly switched over to the hallway feed at the front door, seeing that it was his door dasher.
Damn you Trevor. How dare you get there before Sam.
Not to worry, he’d call for the door code and Anakin wouldn’t answer the first time. It wasn’t much but it would buy him a few seconds.
Though it seemed to be that luck was on his side as it often was when it came to you. Sam was so kind, kind enough to let the delivery guy into the building. Which is technically a security concern but Trevor didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d be able to remember a 6 digit door code.
He was too busy staring at your friends ass to pay attention to the numbers she entered anyway.
The footsteps approached your door and his, Anakin waited until he heard Sam knock on your door before he opened his. Trevor stood patiently as Anakin slowly counted out his tip in cash and thankfully you were quick to let your friend inside. After the exchange was complete Anakin gave you a smile and wave.
He could’ve had a heart attack at the response you gave him.
A flirty little finger waggle and smile.
He had to remind himself to breathe and keep his expression a happy-neutral. He’d hate for you to see his blushing cheeks this early on.
“Have a good night girls.” He said as he closed his door and to his surprise you actually answered.
“You too!”
If he weren’t confident that you were a sweet and loving soul, he’d think you were trying to kill him with the siren song of your voice.
Stir fry had never tasted so fucking good.
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Diary Entry: July 8th
Grocery day baby, here I come.
I love that you’re so predictable. I love that you’re so fucking cute and always try to strong arm your groceries in one trip. I love that it takes at least two good whacks to the trunk of your shitty old Nissan to properly close it.
It’s cute to watch you struggle with it, the annoyed huffs and angry scowl.
I thought you’d combust on the spot once when your paper grocery bag of flour and sugar ripped open and sent a plume of flour up on your black jeans. The parking lot was very empty and I was very glad because I’d hate for someone to have seen the cursing contest you had with yourself as you picked up your spilled items. Very unladylike you know. But it’s you so I don’t mind, I just like to hear you talk.
It’s almost time. I’ve been sitting in my car for about 10 minutes. Gotta account for the traffic on highway 76. Do you really have to shop all the way out there just because of the Whole Foods? C’mon baby they have the same shit at Kroger.
I’ve been watching your little blue dot on my phone and you’re rounding the corner so I’ll write you later doll.
I love you.
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You pulled into the parking lot and sat in your car for a moment. Giving yourself the much need quiet to decompress from your work day and the grocery trip. After you’d checked your messages and scrolled for a moment you decided it was time to head inside before your frozen foods got… not so frozen.
You popped the trunk and fumbled with the faulty latch, your fingers feeling blindly under the metal lip until it finally detached and you were able to open the trunk.
You took a deep breath and scolded yourself for buying the extra few things that could’ve waited till next time. Second trips are for wimps and you weren’t one. So you loaded up your left arm bag by bag until you heard a humored puff of air and the beep of a car locking behind you.
“Need a hand sweetheart?” Anakin grinned, shoving his keys into his front pocket.
He waltzed over and took a few bags off your hands without waiting for a response. It took you aback, not because he hadn’t waited for permission, but because of the way he exuded an odd charm that made you falter.
“Anakin, really it’s alright I can get it.” You said, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion by his kind gesture.
“Mmm no, this seems like a two man mission sweet girl.” He smiled, gathering up a few the last few bags from the trunk and shutting it with one solid push.
“You really don’t have to-“
“I know I don’t have to.” He said tilting his head toward the apartment building to encourage you to walk with him. “I want to.”
“Thank you, that’s… thanks.” You smiled, a light blush creeping across your cheeks.
“Atta girl.” He chuckled, tapping in the door code and holding it open for you despite holding many more bags than you.
Something about the low tone of voice or maybe just the way he looked at you with his icey blue eyes… just sent a chill down your spine. A quick one that was gone in an instant, replaced by a warm glow in the center of your chest.
“Guess chivalry’s not dead.” You joked.
“I’m no knight.” He laughed, “but you’re sure as hell a princess.”
‘Oh that was smooth.’ You thought, trying to ignore the heat at the bottom of your stomach.
What is happening? How on earth can one man be so… everything? Kind, caring, chivalrous and gorgeous to boot.
You felt a wave of embarrassment at the squeaky giggle you let out. He had you tore up from one little comment.
True to the gentleman he seemed to be, he chose not to push it and tease you about your beet red cheeks. He just waited patiently for you as you unlocked your door.
“Do you want me to bring these in for you?” He asked, watching your movements closely.
“Oh that would be great.” You said in relief, leading him into your kitchen.
“Cute little place.” He said, looking around the kitchenette and over to the living room.
He sat down your bags on the counter and started unloading them neatly into rows.
“Oh, you-“
“Mmm mmm.” He shook his head with a smirk, “Just let me help, it’s no big deal.”
You let out a puff of air in an amused sort of amazement and pulled out your little step stool to open up the cabinets. Anakin snickered from behind you as you stepped up and started putting things away.
You shot him a glare over your shoulder and almost said something snarky until you realized he was folding your paper grocery bags in the same way that you always do.
“Huh.” You laughed. “I thought I was the only one who did that.”
“Did what?” He asked, his head cocked to the side.
“Fold the bags.” You said, turning back around to continue placing your things where they belonged.
“Oh,” he chuckled, “I dunno it’s just a habit I guess. Fits better in that stupid slot on the recycling bin this way.”
“Yeah I never really understood why they made them that way? I guess so people don’t just shove other trash in there.” You mused.
“Mmhm probably.” He agreed, stacking them neatly and gathering it in his hands. “Do you want me to take these out back for you?”
“I can do-“ You stopped yourself when Anakin raised his eyebrow and cocked his head to the side with a crooked smirk.
You sighed and gave him a downturned smile. “Yes, I would love for you to take them out back for me.”
“Good girl.” He nodded, clicking his tongue and heading for the door. “See ya princess.”
After he shut the door you let yourself breathe alittle easier, blowing out the air in a short puff through your nose. Maybe even letting a little smile cross your lips before you finished up your task.
You’d be thinking about that low rumble of his voice later. Good girl? Shit.
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PART FIVE
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lambtotheslaughterr · 19 days
Text
One Way Or Another
A Rafe Cameron Oneshot
[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
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WC: 16.5k (just for a second, holy fuck. spent all day writing this. from 10 am to 8pm. i am feeling good & feel like i'm on a writer's high. thank you to all of you who made this happen: 62 pages of pure dark fiction)
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
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Summary: Reader's life couldn't be any better. She's working her dream job, living with her best friend, & may have met the one... but none of those things matter when her bestfriend/roommate begins seeing a volatile man from reader's past...
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            It was Coyote Ugly night at your work, & you made sure to request the night off weeks in advance. There would be nothing to stop you from singing your heart out to the soundtrack of the movie as it played in the bar or dancing on the bar with your friends, not even having your coworkers & boss witnessing it all unfold. Ever since you were a little girl, you wanted to be a bartender all because of the film. It inspired your fashion choices, your music tastes, & most importantly, your attitude.
            As soon as you turned 21, you applied to every single bar in your area. And before that, you practiced your cocktail making, just enough to at least get hired. You knew without experience, it was difficult to land a job as a bartender. If you had to accept a position working at a hotel bar or fine dining bar, you’d take it, anything to get the experience, but your long-term goal was to find a bar with the same energy & vibes as your favorite movie. Your wish came true a year later.
            The Garage was just that. It was inside an old auto-shop with three large garage doors. During summer nights, those doors would be raised & they led out into the enclosed patio area where a stage had been built for nights when live music would be happening. The owner, as much as you wanted it to be a tough-as-nails woman like Lil in Coyote, was an older man in his 50’s named Rosie. Yes, Rosie. His full name Roosevelt but he had been going by Rosie since he entered the bar business. It was your first favorite thing about him.
            Rosie ran a tight-knit crew at The Garage. He was a no-bullshit haver but knew how to have a good time. It was him who trained you behind the bar, switching you up from making prissy, fancy shit & teaching you how to make a real drink, as he said. You loved him. And you loved your family there. Everyone accepted you & welcomed you with open arms & cold beer. It was all you could have ever dreamed for. And now, you were going to live out your ultimate fantasy.
            It thankfully didn’t take a whole lot of convincing on your part to get Rosie to agree to a Coyote Ugly night. You advocated for how it would bring in a good crowd, good money, & good times. Moreover, you promised to do all the leg work. You would take it upon yourself to work alongside the social media handler, Rosie’s daughter Angie who worked in the office alongside her father, to get word out & generate interest. A week before the event was supposed to happen, you had a guaranteed 100+ people wanting to attend. There was no RSVP, but just an event page on Facebook, & your work had paid off. The night was happening, & you would be at the center of it all.
            At your apartment that night, you got ready for the night. You admired your look in the mirror, scenes from the bar film playing through your mind. You smiled proudly at yourself. You look damn good.
            But your night would only be complete if you convinced your best friend, & roommate, to come with. As far as that morning, she was still on the fence. But the time was now. She was either coming or not, & if you had anything to say about it, she would be forced along.
            Leaving your room, you skipped down the hallway before turning a corner & entering the living room. Jules’ room was just off the living room, kitty corner from your room on the other side of the apartment. You were grateful for the distance, but only because you both were sexually active women & didn’t need to hear each other get your kicks in.
            Jules’ door was open & you swung around the frame, poking your head in.
            “Tell me you’re coming!” You hollered, noticing the door to her en suite bathroom was open & the light on, but she was out of sight.
            “Uhhh.” Jules laughed awkwardly, “No?”
            No? N O ?Well. You wouldn’t be having that.
            Entering her room, you marched up to her bathroom entryway, prepared to bribe her into coming, but before you could get a word out, you felt your jaw drop onto the floor.
            Jules stood in the center of her bathroom, posing with her hand on her hips & hiding her coy smile behind a lifted shoulder.
            “Wow.” You grinned, impressed, “You look fucking hot.”
            She was wearing a torn cropped lack crop top, the sleeves & hem shredded, & a mini, mini black leather skirt. To bring the whole look together, she wore a pair of black cowgirl boots & a black cowgirl hat. You giggled at the bolo tie around her neck.
            “Do I look like someone not to be fucked with?”
            “Hundred percent.”
            Jules scrunched her nose cutely, turning to look at herself in the mirror, “Good.”
            You joined her in the mirror, double checking your own look. You definitely didn’t look as man-eater as she did but you were still happy with what you wore. The two of you would undoubtedly be some of the hottest women there tonight.
            “Ready?” You questioned as you applied some of her lipstick to your mouth.
            Jules winked at herself in the mirror, “As I’ll ever be.”
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            The night was in full swing as you danced among people. Dirrty by Christina Aguilera vibrated the room as you swung your hips & ran your hands along the length of your torso. Never before have you felt more like yourself than you did in that moment. Everywhere you looked there was women in backless tops, leather pants or denim skirts, a plethora of country rock fashion choices, & plenty of good-looking men. The only thing that would make this night better was bringing a stranger home for the night.
            Sweat coated your skin as you moved off the dance floor between songs. You had curated the playlist for the night. There was over 150 songs on the queue, all of which were either from the soundtrack or had a similar, fitting feel for the night. You knew that any moment Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard would come on & you were determined to drag Jules onto the bartop with you.
            Sliding between the sea of people, you eventually spotted Jules standing at a tall table near the patio entrance. She was facing you but hadn’t noticed you yet as she spoke flirtatiously with the man standing across from her. He had his back to you & was leaning over the table to hear what your roommate was saying. Jules laughed, smacking him gently on his arm. You knew that you wouldn’t be the only one bringing a man home tonight.
            As apologetic as you were to break up their conversation though, you had a goal in mind, & no potential suitor for your roommate was going to stop you.
            “Jules!” You greeted happily as you jumped towards her, “It’s almost time.”
            “Oh, hey, _____.” Jules smiled at you, “_____, this is Rafe.”
            But before she had even said his name, you were already looking him over & felt your world slow down at the familiar face standing before you.
            It had been a couple years since you last saw Rafe Cameron. You two were in the same grade in high school & attended a lot of the same parties, but you two never spoke to one another. He had a reputation in the halls as a cokehead & was known to snap at a moment’s notice & get into a brawl over the smallest of things. Definitely wasn’t the kind of person you wanted to hangout with. But you had to admit he knew how to throw good parties.
            “Rafe, this is my roommate _____.”
            Rafe smirked at you before offering his hand, “Nice to meet you.”
            You took his hand, ignoring the static shock you received when touching your palms together, “Likewise.”
            Jules was about to say more but the opening instrumentals to your most-anticipated song of the night began playing over the speakers.
            “Sorry, Rafe. I gotta steal her for a couple minutes.” Before Jules could resist, you began dragging her towards the bar.
            “Hey! I was talking to him!”
            “Talk to him later, this is way more important.”
            Jules then realized what was happening & started shaking her head knowingly, “You’re lucky I fucking adore you.”
            “The luckiest.” You smiled back.
            The two of you were quick to climb onto the bar where a few other women were already dancing to Pour Some Sugar On Me. Jules & you were naturals at dancing, having many dance nights in your living room. You danced sensually to the song as it blared over the speakers. Your cheeks hurt from smiling as hard as you were, enjoying the ooh’s & awe’s of men & women alike as they cheered all the women on. You spotted a few of your coworkers behind the bar filming you on their phones. You’d be sure to get those videos sent to you before the night was out.
            Jules slowly fell to her knees to whip her hair around her as she bumped & grinded the air to the music. You reached behind the bar to grab a pitcher of water & did the honors of pouring water on her as the first chorus blasted. Jules’ dancing & your pouring elicited an eruption of cheers. When the first chorus was over, Jules returned to her feet & the two of you danced seductively against one another. All eyes were on the two of you as you stole the show. Your lifelong dream of being a Coyote was coming true before your own eyes.
The song continued & by the time the final chorus came it was your turn to have everyone cheer for you. Jules’ was handed another pitcher of water & as the famous Pour Some Sugar On Me chorus began, you modeled yourself atop the bar. Your butt was down & your legs extended out the length of the bar. You were facing up, your arms holding you up behind your back, your legs bent at the knees. Then as the titular moment of the song happened, Jules poured the ice cold water over you.
A wave of cheers & enthusiasm erupted throughout the bar. When Jules finished pouring the water, you repositioned yourself to crawl along the length of the bar, catching eyes & stealing hearts. You spotted one man sitting at the bar, his eyes never leaving your own. He was cute, more than cute, he was Kevin O’Donnell cute. Your Coyote Ugly dreams were demanding you to end your performance in his lap.
The man grinned to himself as you swung your legs around to dangle off the bar on either side of him. He leaned back in his seat to stare up at you, a closed smirk across his handsome features. As the song closed, you slid off the bar & into his lap. With no introductions needed, you tangled your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck & brought his mouth to yours, sealing the night with a kiss from a perfect stranger.
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            His name was Jack. He was new to town. You were happy to be his welcoming committee.
            “What you did up there was…” He laughed, raising his brows in knowing.
            “I know.” You giggled, nursing your drink.
            After your kiss, Jack insisted on buying you a drink & you couldn’t say no. Jules’ hugged you once before returning to her object of desire. You were too distracted by your own man to question her own.
            “So, you work here?” Jack asked, looking around the place.
            You nodded proudly, taking in the environment, “It’s my second home.”
            “I like the energy. Seems fun.”
            “It is.” You confirmed, “Couldn’t have asked for a better place to work.”
            The two of you talked for a bit longer before you were interrupted. Jules slid in beside you at the table you & Jack were sat at, & her man for the night, the reputable bad boy from your high school, took the spot opposite her. You didn’t miss how his eyes lingered on your face for some time. You frowned internally but ultimately ignored it as you turned to your best friend.
            “Are you drunk?” You asked incredulously. It took a lot to get Jules drunk, she was a prime time heavy weight, & she was fine when you saw her only ten minutes ago.
            Jules pressed her lips together, smiling knowingly up at you, “Maybe.”
            “What the hell did you drink?” You chuckled as she rested her head on your shoulders.
            “We took a couple shots at the bar.” Rafe added to the conversation. You flashed your eyes towards him, taking in his appearance.
            “You look fine.” You pointed out, yet your heavy weight best friend was growing more drunk by the second.
            “I just hide it better.” Rafe smirked. His face was flushed. And after working in the bar industry for the last two years, you did know men’s bodies handled liquor better than women’s. So, you let it go.
            “Do you wanna head home?” You shook Jules.
            She shrugged but her eyes were fluttering closed.
            You felt disappointed but didn’t show it. The night was still young, you had yet to even partake in the karaoke aspect of the night, but Jules wasn’t going to last much longer, chugging water be damned.
            “Jack,” you glanced across to him, “I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to get her home.”
            “I understand.” He nodded, pulling out his phone, “Let me at least get your number. Maybe you can give me a tour of town.”
            You smiled at that, sharing your number to him out loud. Once he entered it into his phone, you told him you looked forward to his call & began to get out of your seat. But as you did, your world began to spin.
            “Whoa.” You mumbled, catching yourself on the table. You must’ve had more to drink than you thought.
            “You alright?” Jack asked, rising to his full height to help stabilize you.
            You nodded but you weren’t, ��I’m a lightweight. Guess I drank more than I thought I had.”
            Jack grabbed your jacket, “Do I need to order you a Lyft?”
            You shook the offer away. But you couldn’t drive. Jules didn’t have a car so it was you who got the two of you there tonight. You glanced over your shoulder at the bar, wondering if maybe you could convince one of your coworkers to give you a ride but they were still slammed. The bar wouldn’t die down for a couple more hours.
            “I’m sorry, Jack. Would it be shitty of me to ask you to drive my drunk ass & my roommate’s drunk ass home?”
            Jack chuckled at that but ultimately shook his head no, “I don’t have a car. Don’t really need one here, ya know.”
            You nodded at that. It was true.
            “Fuck.” You moaned. Your head was growing dizzier by the second.
            Most times you would bite the bullet & cough up the money to pay for an expensive Lyft, but with rent due in two days, you didn’t have the funds. And you didn’t work tonight so no tips would help.
            “I can drive you.” A voice sounded from the other end of the table. Both you & Jack looked towards Rafe as he pulled out his keys.
            “I thought you had a lot to drink, too?” Jack questioned. You were relieved he wasn’t too trusting of Rafe immediately either.
            “Not really.” Rafe returned, his eyes on you though, “You want the ride or not? She looks like she’s gonna be sick any minute.”
            At that statement, you bent over to look at Jules. He was right. Her skin was looking ashen & she was frowning in her sleep. The last you wanted to worry about was her puking before you got her to her bed with a bowl on the floor.
            “Okay.” You nodded, accepting your jacket from Jack’s hands. “Thanks.”
            Jack helped you gather the rest of yours & Jules’ things. He attempted to help you carry her outside but your legs were beginning to grow weaker, your strength quickly dissipating.
            “I got it.” Jack reassured you as he lifted Jules into his arms cradle style.
            “Hey, uh.” Jack looked towards Rafe.
            “Rafe.” He shared his name. Jack nodded then gestured to where you stood leaning against the wall, “Wanna help her?”
            You raised your head at that. Rafe approached you, offering his hand.
            “I got it.” You faked, forcing yourself to stand up. Rafe made an unimpressed face but you ignored it. Just outside the door to the parking lot though you felt your knees buckle. Before you could hit the ground, you felt a strong & firm arm catch you around the waist.
            “Just lean on me. My truck’s right there.”
            As much as you didn’t want Rafe’s help, still unsure why you were feeling hostile towards him, you knew you needed to. Accepting his help, you leaned into his side as he kept you on your feet. A truck a few feet away beeped & the headlights flashed. Jack was ahead the two of you, waiting for Rafe to help him get Jules’ into the back seat.
            Rafe first brought you to the passenger side, helping you up into the cab. Your movements were slow & languid, like you were already half asleep. You shook your head, trying to clear your mind enough to fasten your belt, but before you could, Rafe reached across your front to secure the protective strap.
            “Thanks.” You mumbled, avoiding his eyes.
            “No problem.” He shut your door gently before joining Jack on the other side. You vaguely listened as the two men got Jules into the backseat before the door shut.
            By the time they finished, Rafe was quick to hop into the driver’s seat. You were holding your head in your hands, trying to keep your vision from swimming. Fuck, you really needed to keep better track of your drinking, but you were just having too much fun.
            The door to your side opened & Jack was there, “You gonna be okay?”
            You hummed in response, not trusting yourself to speak, worried that your speech would be slurred.
            “Okay. Text me when you make it home safely. I’ll text you right now.”
            All you could manage was to give him a thumbs up.
            “Alright.” Jack nodded then he looked towards Rafe, “Make sure they get home safe, man.”
            “Yup.” The engine roared to life as he pressed a button on the dashboard.
            “I’ll see you later, _____.”
            You wanted to return the parting but Jack closed the door. The truck jostled beneath you as Rafe drove through the gravel lot.
            “What’s your address?” Rafe asked.
            Pulling out your phone, you languidly types in your address into the maps app. You hit ‘start’ & handed your phone to Rafe.
            The ride was mostly silent until the final couple minutes of it.
            “I remember you, ya know.” Rafe commented. You forced your eyes open at that. It wasn’t that you thought he would remember you or not, but you didn’t want to have one of those walk-down-memory-lane conversations with someone you knew was problematic in high school. Times changed everyone, you supposed. You weren’t always the confident & extroverted woman you were today. Perhaps Rafe had changed, too.
            “Yeah?” You responded. Thankfully, you didn’t sound as drunk as you felt.
            “Yeah, you dated that Junior kid for a while.”
            “Mm.” You had forgotten about Junior. You weren’t one of those people that considered high school boyfriends as real relationships. After all, the two of you only dated for two months your senior year.
            “What I remember most is your guys’ dramatic breakup at Phil’s prom after-party.”
            You frowned at that. That whole night was a messy blur in your memory. You remembered prom fine but the after-party was another story. You had always been a lightweight, but as you thought on it, you vaguely remembered catching Junior dancing with another girl that night.
            The memory resulted in a light chuckle from you, “Oh, yeah. Well…he was an asshole.”
            Rafe shared in your chuckle, nodding in agreement, “Yeah, he was.”
            “So, Jack, huh?”
            His sudden change in conversation made you finally look at him in the dark. The streetlights you passed under were doing little to light his face.
            “Jack?”
            “Think he’ll be any better than Junior?” Rafe questioned.
            What did that even matter?
            Searching for the right words through your addled brain proved difficult, but you eventually found them, “I don’t know… not like I’m going to date him seriously.”
            “No?” Rafe flicked his eyes to yours, “Why not?”
            Okay, you were not going to have this conversation with Rafe of all people.
            Ignoring his question, you were relieved when Rafe pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex. But the night wasn’t quite over. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get Jules upstairs & into your apartment on your own.
            But as if he was reading your mind, Rafe switched the truck off & unbuckled his belt. He hopped out & you watched through the windshield as he rounded to your side. When he opened the door, you moved to get out but was stopped by the belt you still wore. Oh, right.
            Rafe beat you to it though, reaching around your front for a second time to release the buckle. You felt a chill riddle up your spine when his thumb grazed against your front, just above the top of your shorts. Rafe then placed a hand on your hip & guided you out of the truck. Even though it wasn’t a lifted truck, it sure felt like it as Rafe helped you climb out & down.
            “Good?”
            You nodded in response, wanting to keep your words few & far between.
            Next, you followed him around to the other side of the truck. You noticed that you weren’t as drunk as you were when you left. Your head was still pounding & your vision was still swimming, but at least you could hold yourself up now.
            Rafe swung open the door to the back & began gently pulling out Jules. She mumbled in her drunken sleep as he slung her over his shoulder.
            “If you want to lead the way, I can carry her.”
            “Thanks.” You sighed, desperate to get inside & crash into your bed.
            Inside the secure building, you used your key fob to alert the elevator of your presence. When the three of you loaded on, you pressed the lit up button for 5.
            “Thank god for elevators, right.” Rafe joked as he shifted Jules to piggyback him. Fortunately, she hung on.
            Once you reached your floor, you sped walked ahead to your door & swung it open. Rafe passed you by.
            “Take a right at the corner & her bedroom is at the end, off the living room.”
            Rafe followed your directions in the dark. You turned on the lights behind him as he went, hoping he didn’t bump into anything or accidentally drop Jules because of it. He managed to swing her door open & enter her room, you were right behind them.
            Rafe turned to face you before bending his knees to lower Jules closer to the bed. Once she was close enough, Rafe let her go. Jules groaned again at the sudden drop, her eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again. You entered her bathroom to dampen one of her hand towels.
            When you re-entered her room, you paused, watching silently as Rafe tucked Jules’ legs under the covers of her bed. He glanced up, likely having feeling you watching him, & shrugged.
            “I can’t sleep without a blanket of some sort when I’m drunk.”
            You nodded, mustering a smile. Approaching Jules, Rafe moved out of the way. You placed the damp rag on her forehead, hoping it’d help her feel less sick if she did end up throwing up in the middle of the night.
            “Would you mind doing me a favor?” You asked Rafe, glancing at him over your shoulder.
            “Sure, what’s up?”
            “Above the fridge in the kitchen are big bowls. Can you bring one?”
            Rafe nodded & left the room. You listened intently until you heard him in the kitchen.
            “Grab a glass of water, too, please!” You hollered.
            The faucet began running in the distance, so you took the time to lift Jules’ sheets. You overlooked her body, ensuring that Rafe didn’t do any weird shit when you were in the bathroom. But nothing looked out of place. Even her cowgirl boots were still on. Chuckling lightly to yourself, you quickly removed them from her feet before tucking her legs back under the covers.
            It wasn’t that you were a man-hater, you loved men. But recalling all the rumors surrounding Rafe in high school, & how even despite that he was a stranger, you didn’t want to take any chances. So far he had been helpful & friendly enough so you didn’t want to be quick to stuff him into a box labeled ‘creep’, but you’d certainly keep your eye on him.
            You heard his footfalls coming nearer so you stood up. When he entered the room again, he carried a large bowl in one hand & a glass of water in the other.
            “Thank you.” You offered him a small smile when taking the objects from him.
            Once you got Jules settled, you turned to face him, gesturing for the two of you to leave the room. You closed the door quietly behind you. In the living room, you eyed the kitchen on the opposite end of the space.
            “Did you want anything to drink? It’s the least I can do for helping.”
            Rafe sighed, contemplating your offer, “An energy drink if you got it. Feel like I’m gonna fall asleep behind the wheel if I keep going like this.”
            “I don’t have any of that, but I can make you a coffee?”
            “Yeah, sure, thanks.”
            You nodded, walking towards your kitchen. Rafe followed behind you, taking a seat at your small two person table in the corner. You felt him watching you as you pulled out the coffee grounds & began putting them into the coffee maker.
            “Thank you again.” You repeated, tossing him a look over your shoulder, “For helping.”
            “No problem.” He repeated, “Again.”
            You laughed quietly & softly at that. Once the coffee began brewing, you pulled out two mugs & left them by the pot. Then you turned back to face him.
            “How are you feeling?” He asked.
            You felt your brows crease, “What do you mean?”
            “Well, you couldn’t walk at the bar, but now you seem totally fine.”
            “Oh.” You straightened up that, also then realizing how much better you were beginning to feel, “Better, yeah. Must’ve just been a wave.”
            Rafe nodded at that but said nothing.
            “So.” you began, shrugging your shoulders. Small talk wasn’t your forte. It made you feel awkward.
            “So…” Rafe repeated.
            The two of you shared an uncomfortable laugh.
            “You looked really hot on the bar tonight.” His sudden & unsolicited comment surprised you. There was no hiding the shock on your face.
            “What?” You laughed, really believing you misheard him.
            “You heard me.” He smirked at you, his eyes trailing the length of you. You shifted under his gaze, shaking your head, “Thanks? I guess.”
            Fortunately, the coffee pot finished & you were able to distract yourself with pouring the two of you a mug of coffee. You brought Rafe’s his before returning to the fridge to pull out some French vanilla creamer.
            “Want some?” You shook the carton. Rafe waved his hand in dismissal.
            After flavoring your coffee, you joined him at the table.
            “So, what have you been up to since high school?” You finally asked, forcing yourself to partake in a dreaded topic of conversation.
            “Not a whole lot.” Rafe blew out air, “Working for my dad mostly.”
            “And what’s that?” You blew on your coffee before taking a sip.
            “Business. Real estate development. That sorta shit.”
            You nodded, “That’s good money though, right? You rolling in dough?”
            “Why? Want me to take you out on a date?”
            He was teasing but you still laughed uncomfortably, “Not exactly.”
            “No? Not the dating type?”
            Shrugging, you made a face that confirmed his suspicions, “Not really, no.”
            “Why’s that?”
            You sighed, leaning back in your chair, “No reason, really. Just haven’t met the right person, I guess.”
            “Having too much fun stealing & breaking hearts at the bar?” Rafe smirked.
            You rolled your eyes, “Something like that.”
            “You stole mine. Watching you up there…”
            The way he looked at you made your skin erupt with goosebumps. You bit your lip & Rafe’s eyes flicked to the movement. You shook your head, unable to hide your embarrassed smile, “You’ve always been a flirt, ya know?”
            Rafe’s eyes widened at that, “What does that mean?”
            You shook your finger at him, “We may not have talked in high school but you had a reputation. You were ‘the bad boy’. Breaking hearts and faces.”
            Rafe scoffed at that but chuckled nonetheless, “I won’t confirm nor deny.”
            A silly giggle left you but you immediately reeled it in the second you heard it. Were you…flirting with Rafe Cameron? Jesus. If someone had told you earlier that day that you’d end your night flirting with Rafe Cameron in your own apartment you’d say bullshit. It was funny though sometimes how the world brought people in & out of your life.
            “Oh, c’mon.” You shook your head, “All the girls wanted to date you & all the guys wanted to either be you or beat you.”
            Rafe laughed at that, nodding in agreement, “Maybe.”
            You lowered your eyes, memories of high school passing you by.
            “What about you?”
            You raised your eyes to meet his, “What about me, what?”
            “Did you want to date me?”
            There was no helping the sudden burst of laughter at his question. You bit your lip again, shaking your head, “Actually, no. If anything, I was scared of you.”
            Rafe’s eyes glinted playfully, leaning across the table, “That so?”
            “Mm.” You nodded, “I saw a few of your fights. You’re pretty hot-headed, ya know. All I wanted to do was not piss you off.”
            “You couldn’t even if you tried.” Rafe eyes lingered to your lips.
            A part of you was undeniably enjoying his apparent attraction to you. You didn’t care if it was the alcohol or whatever it was that was sexually charging the energy in the room. After all, you did want to take a man home tonight. Rafe isn’t who you had in mind, especially since he started out as Jules’, but Jules’ was lax. If you did end up sleeping with Rafe, she wouldn’t care. All she’d be interested in was how he was in bed. And now, you couldn’t help but wonder yourself.
            Inhaling sharply, you pushed your coffee to the side so you could place your elbows on the table, leaning forward so there was only a few inches between you.
            “But I’m sure I can make you happy.” You flirted suggestively.
            “I think you can, too.” Rafe stared at you through hooded eyes. Yeah. He wanted you, too.
            That being the only confirmation you needed, you rose from your seat, offering your hand to Rafe, “C’mon then. Let’s go to bed.”
            Rafe grinned up at you with that. Then he rose to his full height, but he ignored your hand. He towered over you, your head only reaching his shoulders. Before you could say or do anything, Rafe suddenly had his arms around your butt, lifting you until you were forced to wrap your legs around his middle.
            “Let’s.”
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            A week passed before you saw Rafe again. And you honestly never expected to see him again. After the night you two spent together rolling around in your sheets, you passed out. When you woke the next morning, Rafe was gone. It wasn’t the first time, & likely wouldn’t be the last, that one of your hook-ups escaped into the night, but you’d be lying if you thought Rafe would be different since you two went to high school. But alas, Rafe only proved to be like most men. You weren’t miffed though. You moved on fast.
            As far Jules, her reaction to learning about you two hooking up wasn’t what you quite expected. She laughed it off at first but you could see that she felt something about it. You eventually got it out of her. She said that she actually liked Rafe. Unlike most of her conquests, she felt a natural draw to him & had thought that perhaps Rafe could be someone she’d date. It all surprised you.
            Jules, of course, didn’t blame you whatsoever since she had only met Rafe that night, & after you explained your history, or lack thereof, with him, she understood. But you could tell that she was disheartened to not get to know him more. But as the week passed, she got back into her usual good spirits.
            As for you, you heard from Jack a day after you met him. He started out giving you a hard time for not letting him know you made it back home safely that night, & you thought it best to lie & say that you passed out as soon as you got into bed rather than telling me the truth. The two of you texted for the whole day & before you knew it you had scheduled a date.
            The date itself was fun. You took Jack to some blacklight mini golf then the two of you had a couple beers at one of your favorite bars. The night ended with a hot make-out session in your car. After that, you two saw each other practically every day. Tonight would be no different. In fact, Jules was going out to the bars & you were staying in, wanting Jack to come spend the night with you. It wasn’t like you to wait to have sex with someone you were interested, so Jack was a rare case.
            But with Jules being out of the apartment for most of the night, you thought it an opportune time to have him over & you two could be as loud as you wanted.
            It was almost nine at night when Jules finally left. Jack was supposed to be there around that time, as well. But before she left, she poked her head into your room. You did a little spin for her as she tried to pick her jaw off the floor.
            “Damn, _____. Jack isn’t gonna know what hit him.”
            You smiled happily at that, admiring your lingerie in your full length mirror.
            “I hope so.” Jack was quickly becoming your Rafe. By that, you meant that you enjoyed his company beyond more than just the sexual tension. He made you laugh, carried a conversation, showed interest in your life but also wasn’t afraid to share details of his own. Plus, he was hot as fuck. The more you hung out with him the more he reminded you of a young James Franco. And Franco was always cute to you.
            “So, I wanted to talk to you about something really quick.” Jules revealed, stepping further into your room.
            You tossed her a confused but wary look, “…Okay. Everything alright?”
            “Yeah, at least, I hope so.” She laughed sheepishly, “I’m going to bars tonight, as you know, but…I’m not going alone.”
            You reeled back at that, but were smiling nonetheless, “Okay, babe, if it’s a date you know we trade info incase the guys are creeps.”
            “Yeah, I know.” She sighed, avoiding your eyes, “That’s kind of why I didn’t say anything to begin with. You already know him…”
            Done admiring yourself in the mirror, you sat on your bed, staring up at her in waiting.
            Jules moved forward to join you on your bed, “It’s with Rafe.”
            Oh.
            The revelation wasn’t what you expected but you nodded hesitantly, “Okay… that’s okay?”
            “I don’t know, is it? We’ve never really navigated these waters before.”
            You rolled your eyes at that, “Oh, my god, Jules, it’s okay! I have no claims to him. If you want to see him then see him.”
            She frowned at that, not entirely buying what you were selling, “Are you sure? I know we have a pretty lax friendship, but it’s not weird. I’ll admit, I did feel weird after you told me you guys hooked up last weekend.”
            A pang of guilt hit your chest, but you dismissed it with a forced smile. You had no interest in Rafe. He was a decent fuck, but that’s all he was. If Jules was serious about him, the last you wanted to do was have her thinking you were standing in her way.
            “God, I’m sorry. I’m such a slut sometimes.”
            Jules giggled at that but shook her head, “That’s not what I’m saying. I just want to make sure that you & I will be okay. And, obviously, if it gets weird or messy having Rafe around then I won’t mind kicking him to the curb.”
            You laughed at that, “It won’t come to that. Besides, I have my own man coming over tonight. Rafe…feels like it was ages ago at this point.”
            “Okay.” Jules grinned, her dimples appearing. You could tell she was really excited about this date. You only hoped that Rafe didn’t disappear in the middle of the night on her like he did you.
            “Okay!” You exclaimed, standing up. Jules stood with you. You hugged her, “Thank you for telling me. I’ll make sure Jack & I are all finished by the time you get home.”
            “No worries.” Jules pulled away, grinning at you, “If we do end up wanting to hook-up I’m going to try to get it done at his place, that way you two can be alone all night.”
            “Well, thanks, I appreciate it.” You smiled, letting her go, “But if you do go there, you know to text me where the address is.”
            “Yes, mom.” Jules rolled her eyes.
            With that, you exited your room & walked with her to the door. Jack would be there any minute & you still wanted light some incense & candles.
            You were unlatching the door & swinging it open, preparing to wave Jules off but a yelp escaped you at the tall, looming presence just on the other side.
            “Rafe!” Jules shrieked. The both of you were not expecting him on the other side, let alone anyone.
            Rafe’s eyes danced amusingly between the two of you as you both recovered from the jump scare but when his eyes stopped on you, staring at your chest, you glanced down. It was then that you realized you were still only wearing your lingerie.
            “Oh, fuck.” You muttered, quickly standing just behind the door out of sight as you tied the thigh length silk robe around your body. Jules realized what was happening by the time you finished & glanced up.
            “Sorry ‘bout that.” You laughed sheepishly as Jules stepped out.
            Rafe said nothing but was staring at you like he was trying not to respond.
            “Oh, jesus, let’s just get this over with.” Jules finally spit out, “You guys fucked. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. Right?” She looked at you to which you nodded quickly.
            “Right?” She focused on Rafe. He only mustered an awkward smirk.
            “Great. Now that that’s over with, _____...” Jules eyed you, “Have fun with Jack. I’ll see you either tonight or tomorrow.”
            At the mention of Jack’s name, you felt Rafe’s eyes flash to yours in curiosity. You blatantly ignored his wonderous gaze & waved at Jules, “Bye, have fuuun!”
            Then you hurriedly slammed the door. As much as you loved Jules for her direct nature, you sorely wished she hadn’t mentioned the two of you hooking up while you were standing there in practically nothing. But, fortunately the moment was over & you could focus on the task at hand: Jack.
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            It was nearly three in the morning when you tip-toed into the kitchen to heat yourself up some leftovers. Jack had passed out. You had tired him out. You had always considered your endurance your best quality in the bedroom. It wasn’t often when a man could keep up with you. Jack was no exception, but he was fun, nonetheless. The sex was rushed at first. The second he saw you he couldn’t keep his hands off you. The after having sex that lasted for roughly fifteen minutes, you two relaxed & laughed about it.
            Then you ordered the two of you some food & while waiting for the food to come the two of you hung out on the couch watching an episode of The Boys. After eating & another episode, Jack gathered you in his arms & carried you into your room for second round. The second round was a lot more sensual. Now that the two of you had had sex in a hurry, you two were able to slow down & really learn each other’s bodies. You were winded by the time that session ended. You fell asleep as he scratched your back & when you woke up an hour later, he was still awake watching videos on his phone. You knocked his phone out of the way & straddled his lap. The third time was even more mind-blowing than the first two—being the perfect mixture of animalistic & intimate.
            After that, it was Jack’s turn to pass out. He had commented on your skills in bed & you kicked your feet about it. It wasn’t that you felt validated by hearing a man’s thoughts about what you could do but you also wouldn’t deny how good it still felt to hear.
            You tried sleeping yourself, getting only ten or so minutes when your stomach growled you awake. There would be no good night’s rest until you ate. So, that’s when you decided to go heat up some leftovers from yours & Jack’s order.
            Your apartment was quiet save for the metallic hum of the microwave. You stared at Jules’ closed bedroom door, & it was only then that you realized you hadn’t checked your phone whatsoever since Jack arrived. There was still a minute left on the microwave. You decided you’d go snatch your phone from your room really quickly then give Jules a call while you ate. But just as you entered the hallway, you heard the familiar sound of her keys in the door.
            As quietly as you possibly could, you backed up back into the living room then raced across the room to the kitchen, trying to look as natural as possible. But as you listened for Jules’ footsteps, you picked up on another.
            She wasn’t alone.
            You glanced down. You were in your robe but only your robe. Jack made quick work of discarding your matching bra & underwear. There was a throw blanket on the back of the couch. You made to move towards it, hoping to get it wrapped around you since the robe did little to really cover you, but just as you did, two figures appeared on the other end of the room.
            “Jules?” You frowned. She was slumped against Rafe.
            Your eyes flashed to his, your state of dress forgotten, “What the hell happened?”
            “Yeah, I don’t think she’s much of a heavyweight anymore. She was falling asleep at the bar.”
            Shaking your head, you approached the two of them. Rafe still held her up as you patted her cheeks, “Jules, babe, wake up.”
            But she only moaned & swatted your hand away, “Sleepy.”
            “Okay, okay.” You couldn’t help the glare you threw at Rafe. Whether or not it was his fault, she had only gotten this drunk in the last week while in his presence. You hoped it was just a coincidence but you wouldn’t settle on it quite yet.
            “Can you get some water, I got it from here.” You told Rafe before slipping her into your arms. Jules managed to use her feet to assist you in assisting her as you brought her back to her bed. Jules sighed happily at the sight of her bed before throwing herself down on it.
            You knelt beside the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear, “Did you drink a lot again?”
            “Mmm. Probably.”
            You sucked on your lip, “Jules, you can’t be drinking like that. You gotta be safe.”
            “Safe…very safe.” She mumbled, turning her head away from you as she curled into herself.
            The air in the room shifted as Rafe entered behind you. You stood up, taking the glass of water from him none-too-gently & putting it on her nightstand.
            “You can leave.” You told him without looking at him, “Thanks for getting her home.”
            Rafe scoffed behind you but said nothing. You listened as you heard his steps leave the room. Releasing a breath of air, you stared at your best friend as she slept soundlessly.
            “Jules…” You whispered to no one. Taking her shoes off, you threw one of her loose blankets over her & switched her light off. You’d be talking with her in the morning. You had to make sure that her getting so drunk was her doing & not Rafe’s.
            A muffled gasp escaped you as you closed her door, not expecting to see Rafe leaning against the wall just on the other side.
            You had your hand over your mouth to keep from waking Jules or Jack, but you glared hotly at Rafe over your hand.
            Closing Jules door, you stepped closer to him, hissing, “I told you to leave.”
            Rafe frowned, “Okay, sorry. I thought you just meant the room.”
            “You knew exactly what I meant.”
            You turned away from him, quietly stomping towards the kitchen. Rafe followed behind you.
            “What’s your problem? I thought you’d thank me.”
            “And I did.” You bit back. You were struggling to contain your anger. You had no proof that Rafe actually did anything, after all, he was helpful just last weekend & brought Jules back home tonight, but it still didn’t sit well with you. And your mom always taught you to trust your gut.
            “So why the hostile attitude? Did I do something wrong?”
            Inhaling sharply, you yanked open the microwave door. The food was steaming. But you had lost your appetite.
            “No.” You replied shortly, uncaring if you sounded convincing or not.
            You touched the plate but as you did, you hissed in pain. You were too caught up in your frustrations to remember to grab the plate of food with a hand towel.
            “You okay?” Rafe moved closer, peering down at you as you stuck your thumb in your mouth, sucking on it.
            You grunted in response. But Rafe just stared at you in disbelief.
            “If you run it under cold water it’ll help better.” He told you, his voice flat.
            “I know that.”
            Instead of approaching you, he backed up to the sink, flicking the faucet handle. Then he gestured to the sink, “Well.”
            Biting your lip in mild irritation, you neared the sink & stuck your thumb under the water. It wouldn’t burn, not visibly anyway, but it still hurt like a bitch. The cool water helped though.
            As the water cooled the sensation of your pulsing thumb, so did your anger. Shaking your head, you finally looked at Rafe over your shoulder, “I’m sorry. Thank you for helping her home.”
            “You’re welcome.” He returned, but the nicety has left his voice. He was as irritated as you had been.
            “It’s just, she doesn’t get drunk like this.” You told him, “I mean, she does! But it takes a lot. Like a lot, a lot. So, seeing her get this drunk twice in one week, just has me concerned.”
            “Well, I was there, & I’m telling you, she didn’t drink a lot. I don’t know, obviously, what her ‘a lot’ is, but it wasn’t a lot to me. A beer, three cocktails, & two shots.”
            You thought on it. That was still excessive, at least in your opinion. Jules could normally handle a bit more than that but perhaps Rafe was right. Maybe her tolerance was just changing for some reason all of a sudden.
            “Guess it makes sense.” You mumbled. Your thumb felt better at that point so you turned the faucet off.
            “So, what’s a lot to you?” You asked him, wanting to shift the negative energy between the two of you.
            Rafe glanced at you in momentary confusion before shrugging, “More than that.”
            “Guess that makes sense, too.” You chuckled softly, “You were a big partier in high school.”
            Finally, Rafe’s stone expression cracked as a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, “Yeah, true.”
            The room was silent for a beat until your stomach growled. Your appetite had returned. Turning your back on Rafe, you went to the microwave & tapped the plate, testing the heat. It was grabbable now. You removed your food from the appliance then took your plate to the table. Rafe watched you silently before slowly approaching you.
            “So, you & Jack, huh?”
            “Hmm?” You flicked your eyes to his, before realizing what he had asked, “Oh, uh, yeah.”
            Rafe nodded, slowly dragging out the chair opposite you before sitting down.
            “And you & Jules.” You added, not wanting you or Jack to be the focus at that point in time.
            “Mhmm.” Rafe pursed his lips, cocking his head as he peered at you, “And you & me.”
            You scrunched your nose in discomfort, but offered an awkward smile nonetheless, “Yup.”
            “Does Jack know?” His question surprised you.
            You glanced away to cut into your enchilada, blowing on it, then placing it in your mouth. You chewed, staring back at Rafe. Then you shrugged.
            “I take that as a ‘no’.”
            “Well, it’s not like we’re together, him & I. He doesn’t need to know about my hook-ups. I don’t ask about his.”
            “But you want to date him.” It wasn’t a question but you still treated it as such.
            “Um, no? I don’t know. Why do you ask?” You took another bite, a lump forming in your throat at Rafe’s invasive questions.
            “Ah, well, Jules was saying that she thought you really liked this Jack guy, more than normal. Said you guys have been seeing each other pretty much everyday since last weekend.” For some odd reason, you felt like you were being interrogated, like a parent trying to get to know their teen daughter’s boyfriend before ultimately deciding that they weren’t good enough for her.
            You shrugged, “Yeah, I guess. But, same could be said about you & Jules.”
            Rafe raised his brows at that, “Yeah?”
            You nodded, “She almost lied to me tonight. Didn’t tell me who she was seeing. She’s never done that before. Plus, she admitted as much that she liked you more than just for hooking up.”
            “Hmm.” He looked away, deep in thought.
            “How does that make you feel?” It was your turn to interrogate him.
            “Not a lot.” Rafe returned quickly. His cold response had your earlier anger become lightly reignited.
            “And that means…?”
            Rafe leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he gazed at you, “She’s nice, hot, fun. But…she’s not you.”
            The sound of your fork clattering against the plate as it slipped from your fingers made you jump slightly. Your body felt tense at Rafe’s confession. But you had to play it off. Quickly snatching the fork back up, you brushed off his comment with a sheepish chuckle, “Funny.”
            But Rafe didn’t share in your amusement. His unwavering stare was only evidence of his seriousness.
            “What are you trying to say, Rafe?”
            He sighed, his eyes dropping to the opening of your robe. You glanced down & quickly snatched the fabric closer to your chest. He smirked at that.
            “I’m saying that I know you’re wearing nothing under that & I want to see what you’re trying to hide from me.”
            You sputtered in shock, staring at him wide-eyed, “Are you fucking serious?”
            Rafe raised his eyes to yours, “Deadly.”
            “Alright, okay.” You stood up, your half-eaten food forgotten on the table, “I don’t know what the hell you think—’
            But Rafe stood too, quickly invading your space as you stood there attempting to talk him down. He pressed his chest against you & you didn’t have time to create space before he gripped one of your hips. A surprised hiss escaped your lips at his abrupt manhandling.
            “I think that dumbass in there can’t please you like I can.” Rafe spoke lowly, his voice even but firm.
            You swallowed, putting your hands on his chest in an attempt to push yourself away from him, but Rafe was quick to snatch both your wrists in his other hand.
            “What are you doing?” Panic flooded you. If Rafe was fucking with you, you weren’t finding it very funny.
            “I told you.” Rafe then quickly yanked on the ties of your robe & your robe fell open.
            You gasped as cool air suddenly brushed over your exposed front. You instinctively made to cover yourself help but Rafe still held your wrists in his hand. You were breathing heavily, watching in a daze as Rafe’s eyes darkened, staring at your body.
            Then, just as quickly as it happened, Rafe looked back up at you & smirked. Then he let you go.
            “Have a good night.”
            Like whiplash, Rafe was there one second then gone the next. You stood there in the center of your kitchen staring into the direction of the hallway where Rafe disappeared to. The front door to your apartment closed in the distance & you finally released a breath of air you had been holding.
            Then everything that just occurred finally hit you.
            “What. The. Fuck.”
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            The next couple months were weird, to say the least. After Rafe revealed yourself to him he was around way too much. He & Jules began spending a lot of time together & before you knew it, they were dating. DATING.
            You sat on what he had done for a couple days before you finally told her about it. Or least, a little bit about it.
            First, you started by asking her if she was really serious about Rafe, like had real feelings for him. When she admitted that she did, you felt torn on telling her the whole truth or just a version of the truth. You eventually settled on just telling her variation of it.
            What you ended up telling her was that he came onto you again but you had rejected him & then he left. That was basically what happened, but you didn’t mention him undoing your robe, & you weren’t sure why. Rafe was no friend to you so you had no need to protect him, but Jules was your friend, & you had never seen her hung up on someone the way she was about Rafe.
            You had seen Rafe multiple times in the window between his harassment of you in the kitchen to telling Jules about it, & in that time he never said or tried anything again. He hardly even looked at you. You reminded yourself that he was an asshole in high school & that he likely viewed what he did as just a humiliating prank. But it wasn’t. Had you not already hooked-up with him you likely would’ve told Jules the whole truth, but since Rafe had already seen you naked & was just pulling one of those idiotic Alpha moves on you in the kitchen, you figured as long as it never happened again you could deal with seeing him & Jules together all the time.
            But it still ate away at you. It bothered you that he had the audacity to not only do that but then move forward & decide to date your best friend. But Jules was happy, more so, she was drinking less. It was the least you could ask for in her questionable relationship with Rafe Cameron.
            On the bright side, Jules wasn’t the only one to enter into an official relationship. After a few weeks of hanging out with Jack & having some of the best sex of your life, you & Jack progressed into a relationship. It felt like ages since you last had a boyfriend, but it felt nice. He was quickly becoming one of your favorite people. Even better, he & Jules got along great. She’d often join you guys on the couch when you watched a movie or show or even help out in the kitchen as the two of you made dinner. They were all good times, but they were often soured by the presence of Rafe.
            Now that you & Jules were in relationships, there was an ungodly amount of times when all four of you would hangout. It was like double dating all the time. If Jules & Rafe wanted to go out to the bars, they’d always convinces Jack to convince you. And then on nights when you worked, Jack would sometimes come in to see you, & right behind him would be Jules & Rafe. Your apartment with Jules was quickly becoming a home to your respective boyfriends.
            Your relationship with Rafe was interesting, too. Though he never made comments or did anything like he did that night in the kitchen, he still always found a reason to talk to you. It was never about anything especially important or engaging, but always just enough to have you two at least carry a conversation for some time.
            Jack still never knew about you & Rafe hooking up the night you all met & you wanted to keep it that way. In fact, you made Jules promise that she would tell Rafe to keep his mouth shut because if ever said anything, even eluded to it, you would make sure he’d regret it. And so far, Rafe never peeped a word about it. The only downside to Jack never knowing about your tryst with Rafe was that they too became good friends.
            Oftentimes, you’d see them laughing loudly with one another, like slapping each other laughing, & always having each other’s back on nights out if for some reason they came across a belligerent asshole. A small part of you was relieved that everything was seemingly working out, but a majority of you knew everything was too good to be true. It’d only be so long before the other shoe dropped. And what kind of shoe it would be had you constantly on the edge…
            But that was the least of your worries as you rushed to get ready. That morning, your mom called you to remind of the charity gala that was being hosted in her name & how you promised to be there. The event had completely slipped your mind. So, all day you were frazzled with that now being your mission. You were forced to call Rosie & explain everything to him, apologizing that it slipped your mind & you would be able to come into work. Fortunately, Rosie said he’d take care of it & that he would see the following night.
            After that, you drove to the shopping district hoping you’d find a dress that would be appropriate enough for the gala. These gala’s your mom attended were high class. No ball gowns or anything extravagant like that (though some people did wear stuff like that), but it was definitely an excuse for those in attendance to show off some of the nicer items in their closet. You had none.
            You got lucky when you found a dress that you could keep & wear again. It was equally elegant as it was just the right amount of sex appeal. Unfortunately, due to the short notice, Jack would not be able to come with you. You learned early on in your relationship that Jack moved to town to open his own café. It had a rough start but once the warmer months came it became a huge hit so he was spending a lot of his time there to help out. And tonight they were having an open mic night for comedians, poets, musicians. It was their first one so he couldn’t miss it.
            You were going to ask Jules next if she wanted to be your date but when you went to her room earlier that day, you could hear her throwing up in the bathroom. She had come down with the flu. So, she was a no go. It bummed you out that you wouldn’t have a date but it was your own fault for completely forgetting about it.
            It was thirty minutes before the gala started & you had just finished getting ready. You still had to drive 20 minutes to the venue so you would be cutting it close but at least you’d be on time. Before you left, you sped-walk to Jules’ room to check on her. She was sound asleep in her bed, a humidifier next to her bed billowing warm, wet air. You quicky stepped into the room & kissed your fingers before placing them on her forehead. You couldn’t afford getting sick after bailing on Rosie tonight.
            Then, you were out the door.
            You recognized the address as being somewhere in the industrial district on the north side of town. That thought made you groan, you hoped they had valet parking.
Traffic was a bitch but you made it with two minutes to spare. Thank you, Valet.
            Once you were inside, you sought out your mom. You found her in the middle of greeting guests as they entered the building.
            “Oh, honey!” She exclaimed, “I’m so happy you could make it.”
            “Of course, Mom. Is there an open bar?” You asked once she pulled away.
            Your mom rolled her eyes knowingly, “So much of your father in you. Yes, yes. The venue is up those stairs there, the bar portion is in a separate room across from it.”           
            “Great, thank you.” You kissed her on the cheek, antsy to at least get a glass of wine in your system.
            She waved you off to continue welcoming guests while you went to go retrieve a drink. After you succeeded in getting your wine, you entered the gala. You nodded impressively. There were a few faces you recognized as close friends of your mom’s & forced yourself to make small talk as you mingled your way over to a table by the windows. Once you made it through, you took a moment to yourself to relax. Your whole day had felt rushed & chaotic so you were happy to finally be off your feet with some sort of alcohol before you to keep you going.
            The charity event started soon thereafter, & before you knew it, you were enjoying your drink, watching as a couple hundred middle aged rich folk raised their hands for the auction portion. Once the auction was through, the host announced that dinner was served & to help yourselves & to enjoy the night while it was still young. You checked the time on your phone, noting it was only 8 in the evening. Your mom begged you to stay at least until 9 that way she can finish making her rounds then she could focus her time on you. You begrudgingly promised you would.
            When she disappeared, you decided to get your glass refilled. You were snaking your way between bodies, aiming for the doors that would lead you to the bar when you abruptly ran into another person.
            “Sorry!” You exclaimed, feeling embarrassed for not watching where you were going. But when the person you ran into turned around, the apologetic expression on your face fell.
            “Well, well. Fancy seeing you here, huh?” Rafe grinned, clearly not expecting to see you either.
            “Fancy.” You deadpanned, turning away to continue on your way. What the hell was he doing there?
            Once you made it to the edge of the room though, you felt a slight tug on your elbow, deterring you from your destination. A curse died on your tongue as you glared at Rafe dragging you through a set of glass doors & onto a patio. You didn’t even know there was a patio. Had you, you would’ve hidden out there all night to avoid Rafe,
            “What are you doing here?” He asked, admiring your outfit.
            “You first.” You battled.
            Rafe chuckled but answered, “Networking.”
            “For?”
            Rafe rolled his eyes, sighing, “My dad’s business?”
            You pursed your lips. You supposed it made sense. But Jules hadn’t mentioned it.
            “Why isn’t Jules here then?” You knew well enough that she was sick & resting at home, but since she had never mentioned it, you wondered if Rafe had even bothered to mention it to her.
            “Because I didn’t ask her.” Rafe responded like it was the most obvious answer in the whole world. But you wouldn’t accept.
            “God, you are such an asshole. She’s crazy about you, ya know. And you treat her like crap.”
            Rafe bit his lip in though, narrowing his eyes at you, “You sure about that? Pretty sure I actually spoil her. More than she’s worth.”
            “Oh, you—” All the possible offensive terms you could think of threatened to spill out but this wasn’t the time or the place, “That’s it. When I get back home, I’m telling her everything.”
            You spun on your heel then, prepared to go find your mom & apologize but you had to leave early. You couldn’t stand to be here for a second longer knowing Rafe asshole Cameron was present.
            But when you left the patio & entered the hall, where there was conveniently no one was around, Rafe snagged you by the waist before shoving you into a bathroom.
            “Rafe, goddamnit!” But Rafe shook you to your core when he pressed your back against the wall & covered your mouth. His hand going to the handle on the door & locking it.
            “I’m gonna take my hand off now, think you can shut the fuck up for two seconds?”
            You glared at him but nodded once. Rafe removed his hand but only stared at you.
            You slapped your hands together, waiting for him to get it over with.
            “I don’t know what the fuck you want, _____. You’re so annoyingly confusing. More than most women.”
            You frowned at that. What was he talking about?
            “You come onto me the night we meet then you suddenly want nothing to do with me. I never asked you out on a date because you said you weren’t interested in dating. I was fine with that, though. I could live with just hooking up. But then come to find out you’re dating Jack, fucking him, too. So, now I look like an idiot because you told me you don’t date. And that’s a lie. So, when I found out & tried coming onto you again that night in your apartment, you rejected me. All for that dumbass in your bed. I mean, what is a guy supposed to think? I’ve been very patient, waiting for you & Jack to get through whatever it is you guys think you’re doing but nope, nope, Jack’s here to stay, Jack’s such a good guy, Jack’s the one.”
            All of his words were becoming jumbled together in your brain. You could do nothing but stare at him wide-eyed & in shock.
            Rafe was huffing, his lips in an upside down smile as he stared through you, “What do you have to say, huh? Because now, all this time, pretending to be into Jules, I’ve just been trying to get close to you. To show you that I’m who you want. That you regret rejecting me. And you can’t say I haven’t been good because I have been. I don’t touch you, flirt with you, make it obvious that I want to fuck your brains out, that I want to beat Jack to a pulp every single time I see him put his hands on you. It should be me, _____. You know that.”
            A surprised but unamused sigh left you. Everything you thought about Rafe was true, but just much worse. He was only dating Jules because of you. Only hanging around because of you. You needed to snuff this man out.
            “Rafe…” You licked your lips, struggling to find the words, “I don’t know where, at any point, you got into your head that we were something more than just a spontaneous, convenient hook-up but that’s all it was. Okay? That’s it. There was sexual tension & I acted on it. Simple as that. I mean, you were gone the next morning! We had nothing more than just casual, one-time sex.”
            Rafe’s eyes narrowed as you spoke.
            “And as far as Jack goes, that’s none of your damn business. I meant what I said when I told you I don’t date but things change, & I don’t care how fast they change, I don’t owe you anything. I’m not some fucking prize that you are competing against Jack for, & even if I was, let me tell you, he is by far a better man you will ever be. A real man doesn’t use a woman to get closer to her roommate, to try & make her roommate, I don’t know, fall for him? That’s some psycho sociopathic shit, right there. Okay?! So, what you’re gonna do now, is you’re gonna call Jules & you’re gonna break up with her. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re gonna get it done. I would love nothing more than to tell her myself about how much of a piece of shit you are, but she’s my friend. My best friend. And I don’t want to hurt her. So, the least you can do is soften the blow.”
            It looked as if he wasn’t listening anymore, his eyes glazing over, but you knew he was. He was hearing every single world.
            “Man up.” You stepped forward, “And give her what she deserves.”
            His eyes finally shifted back to yours, “Careful what you wish for.”
            The look in his eyes sparked a bout of fear within you.
            But then Rafe was unlocking the bathroom door & next thing you knew he was gone. Your heart was racing, the interaction an explosion of emotions. But with him gone, you were finally able to relax against the wall. You placed your hand on your chest, willing your heart to slow down. Jesus. This day just wouldn’t give you a break, would it?
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            Unfortunately, your night never improved. When you got home later that night, you could hear Jules crying in her room. As relieved as you were that Rafe called her, you were still disheartened to hear her sobs from the front door. Stopping by your room first, you kicked off your heels & tossed your keys on the bed. Then you hesitantly walked towards her room. Her door was cracked open.
            You were about to enter her room but another’s voice stopped you.
            “I’m sorry, Jules.” Rafe.
            What the fuck was he doing here?!
            Not waiting to get answers from Jules, you slapped her door open, standing angrily in her doorway. Jules & Rafe were on her bed & Rafe was holding her as she cried into his chest.
            “What the hell’s going on here?”
            Jules looked up then but her solemn face quickly turned to one of anger as she set her eyes on you. She stood up, looking you directly in the eye, “I should be asking you that! I trusted you!”
            You stared at her in confusion before glancing at Rafe who sat smugly on the edge of her bed.
            “Jules, look, I don’t know what that fuck told you but he’s ly—”
            “Lying?!” Jules questioned, her voice growing louder, “Yeah, he said you’d say that. But he told me everything!”
            You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at the unapologetic look on Rafe’s face, “And what was that?”
            “That you’ve been coming onto him for months!” Jules screeched, “I knew bringing him around was going to be weird but if you still had feelings for him then you should have told me! Now you’re telling him to break up with me so you can have him. I can’t believe you would do that!”
            “What?!” You raised your voice, “No, no, that is not what’s happening. He’s the asshole, the creep!”
            “Oh, shut up, _____!” Jules glared at you through her angry tears, “He has proof of you saying so!”
            You stumbled at that, “Proof? What? What proof, Jules?”
            She spun around, snatching a phone that wasn’t hers off the bed before raising it up between the two of you. She clacked on it & then turned the volume up. It was your voice that came out.
            So, what you’re gonna do now, is you’re gonna call Jules & you’re gonna break up with her. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re gonna get it done.
            “Motherfucker…” You whispered in disbelief. But then the recording stopped. Jules played it again.
            You shot your eyes between the two of them before settling on Jules, “That’s all he recorded? You don’t think that’s weird, Jules? There’s nothing before, nothing after, it’s all out of context. Yes, I told him to break up with you but so I could have him! He’s a fucking psycho!”
            Jules shook her head, chuckling darkly as she tossed the phone back on her bed, “I want you out of this apartment. Tonight. And then I never want to see you again.”
            “Jules! No, what? Wait!” But she was shoving you out of her room & before you could get another word out, she slammed her door in your face.
            “Rafe, you fucking asshole! Tell her the truth!” You beat against the door but all you could make out on the other side was Jules bitching about you before her room started blaring music.
            You couldn’t believe this was happening. Rafe had gotten to her. Turned your closest friend against you. Well. Fuck him. He wasn’t going to win. Not that easily. Jules wanted to never see you again, that’s too damn bad. Because you weren’t going anywhere, not as long as Rafe was in her ear feeding her lies.
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            You walked into work angrily the following night. Your coworkers greeted you but you could only manage a grunt. Jules was far from happy to see you when you came out of your room that morning but you needed to show her that you weren’t going anywhere.
            “My name’s on the lease. I pay rent. I’m staying.” You told her to which she sneered at you before grabbing her coffee & disappearing in her room.
            Her door was closed but you told her through the door that you would never betray her like that. That the person who was lying to her was Rafe. She never responded, & you never saw her again before you left for work. But you wouldn’t give up.
            You threw on your outfit for your shift then left in poor spirits. Working helped you distract yourself from the bullshit of your disastrous home life & potential friend break-up. It was busy & your regulars listened to you as you told a few of them about few details of your dilemma. They all held hope for you & Jules to figure things out. That left you feeling slightly better. But around midnight, an unexpected guest appeared at the far end of the bar. You smiled for the first time in 24 hours but your smile quickly fell at the furious expression on Jack’s face.
            “Hey.” You said warily, flipping over a 16oz to pour his usual beer.
            “I’m not staying.” Jack told you, his voice hard.
            That wasn’t a good sign.
            “I just came to tell you that Jules told me everything. The recording, everything.”
            “Jack.” You sighed exhaustedly. After last night’s intense fallout, you didn’t think to call Jack & tell him what happened. But you never thought Jules would reach out to him herself.
            “Save it.” He held up his hand, “I just wanted to tell you in person.”
            Before you could try to defend yourself or even explain a little bit, Jack was out the door. You watched tiredly through the windows as he sped off.
            Jack didn’t understand either. He would, but not yet. First, you had to get Jules to know the truth, get Rafe out of the picture, then after all that, you & Jules would tell Jack the truth together. You just had to be strong.
            “You alright, kid?” Rosie’s voice sounded behind you.
            You pressed your lips together, feeling them shake. You felt like crying but you forced yourself not to. Rafe couldn’t get away with this.
            Turning around, your head hung low, you simply nodded to Rosie.
            “Why don’t you take a ten. I can man the bar, start closing duties.”
            You didn’t have the energy to debate it. You exited the bar & went to sit at the far end. Pulling out your phone, you hoped to see any messages from Jules but there was nothing. You tried calling her but your call went straight to voicemail. She likely blocked you. Good thing you lived down the hallway from her.
            Holding your head in your hands, you thought about how you got here. How the fuck did you get here? Everything was fine & then suddenly it wasn’t. You realized you should’ve told Jules about Rafe from the beginning. Told her about how he came onto you in the kitchen that night. If you had, Rafe wouldn’t be in the picture, you & Jules would still be friends, & Jack would be drinking a beer less than 10 feet from you.
            “Fucking Rafe…” You muttered out loud.
            Could this night get any worse?
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            Unfortunately yes, yes it could.
            You kicked at the tire of your car, frustrated that it suddenly wouldn’t start. Rosie had already left. He closed up The Garage with you & walked with you to your vehicles. But while he started his up & pulled out of the parking lot, you sat behind your wheel staring mindlessly out the windshield. You so desperately just wanted to talk to Jules, to just tell her everything. It had only been 24 hours & all you wanted was your best friend back.
            So, when you finally broke out of your thoughts & went to start your car, it only added to your shitty night that the engine sputtered then died.
            “Fuuuuuuck!” You screamed, beating your hands against the dashboard. Your hands were throbbing afterwards but you could barely feel it. And if you thought it still couldn’t get any worse, pulling out your phone & finding it dead only proved you wrong.
            “’Course.” Tossing your phone back into your bag, you glared at the bar across from you. There was chargers inside, but Rosie had the keys to get in & you had no phone to call him.
            Getting out, you locked up your car before rounding to the front. There was no point in checking under the hood, you would have no idea where to look first. You had always said that one day you’d learn car stuff for shit exactly like this, but you had yet to do it. It would be next on your agenda. After getting Jules back.
            You glared into the darkness of the road. The Garage was on a long stretch of a two-lane highway. During the day it was used regularly, but as soon as night came, the only reason people were on it was to come to your place of work. There would be no one. It was then that you decided you were going to be forced to walk back home. It was only a mile or so walk, most of it being spent on the highway, but you weren’t stoked about walking down a dark, desolate highway in the middle of the night.
            But what choice did you have?
            Facing your car once more, you kicked at her tire, “See you in the morning, princess.”
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            You were only about ten minutes into your walk, your jacket wrapped securely around you as you stomped along the pavement, when you heard an engine in the distance. Now, you weren’t one of those girls who thought to yourself ‘oh, kidnapping wouldn’t happen to me, that’s only in the news’. So, you had no plans to put your thumb out & hitching a ride. Even if it was a nice elderly woman. You had seen too many true crime documentaries. It was better to be distrusting then it was to trust the wrong person.
            Unlike Jules, you thought bitterly. But it wasn’t her fault. It was all Rafe’s.
            When the engine grew closer, you moved off the highway. There were no streetlights on this stretch of the highway, so the driver wouldn’t spot you until they passed you. It also helped you were wearing darker clothes. Otherwise whoever it was might get some sort of idea. And if they did spot you whether before or after they passed you, you were mentally preparing yourself to launch yourself into the woods & make a run for it.
            You glanced over your shoulder as you walked, spotting two headlights in the distance. You hoped they would hurry & pass you by so you could walk freely again without worrying about getting snatched off the road. You already had enough stress on your plate.
            The engine grew closer but as it did you could hear begin to slow down.
            Great.
            Still walking, not wanting to let whoever it was get closer, you spun around expecting to see a middle-aged man giving you a toothy smile. But the lights were so bright you couldn’t make out anything. All you could see was the silhouette of someone sitting in the drivers seat. They didn’t move closer, they didn’t signal for you, they didn’t do anything. Just idled there in the middle of the highway.
            “Alright…” You could feel panic begin to grip you. “That’s not a red flag.”
            But it didn’t stop you. You just kept walking. And as you did, you heard the truck begin to roll closer. As it did, you moved further off the highway until you were forced to walk on the dirt along the tree line.
            You breathing fast at that point. As subtly as you could, you reached into your bag, looking for your taser. You had never had to use it before but you always kept it charged in the off chance you’d need to. And now seemed like it would potentially be that time.
            “_____.”
            The sound of your name horrified you, but more than that, it was the voice that carried it.
            You spun around on your heel, staring wide-eyed as Rafe hung an arm outside his window, his eyes dead set on you.
            “What the fuck do you want?”
            “Need a ride?” He asked, ignoring your question, but there was no sense of wanting to help you in his tone.
            “Fuck no.” You spit, glaring hotly at him, “I am walking home. Carry on.”
            “I’m heading there anyway.” Rafe smirked, “Booty call. You know how it goes.”
            You made a face of disgust. He still had the audacity to talk poorly about Jules even after convincing her that you were the bad guy. But were you surprised? No, no you weren’t.
            “Just fuck off, Rafe.” You dismissed him with a flick of your hand before marching ahead. Much to your chagrin, Rafe only followed alongside you in his truck. You made sure to keep a good distance between where you walked & where his door was. If he decided to jump you again like he had at the charity gala the previous night, you wanted a head start into the woods.
            “We can talk.” He stated, “Work something out. I can get Jules to forgive you.”
            You shook your head in disbelief, running your tongue along your teeth in annoyance. He was just egging you on, wanting to get a rise out of you. Like always.
            “C’mon, you know you’re tempted.” His voice grew lower.
            “The only thing I’m tempted to do is rip your fucking throat out & shove it up your ass so you can taste your own shit.”
            “Well,” Rafe chuckled darkly, “I’d need my throat to taste it, wouldn’t I?”
            Stamping your foot against the pavement, you finally stopped to face him again, “God, can you just leave me the fuck alone?! You got Jules, you won, she fucking hates my guts. I’m the bad guy in this story, I get it. Your narrative is working out great for you, Rafe. So if you’re done boasting, please! Leave. Me. Alone.”
            He peered at you through heavily hooded eyes, an unimpressed smirk appearing on his face, “I didn’t win, _____. Jules isn’t who I want. You know that.”
            His words chilled you to your core. It was then that you were reminded of where you were, or weren’t, which was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Just you & Rafe.
            “I just want to walk home, okay?” You felt your voice shake with fear. Rafe smiled then. He heard it, too.
            “Ad I’m offering you a ride.”
            You felt your eyes begin to water as you stared past him into the cab. If you got in the cab, there was no saying what he would do to you. Your chances were better outside of the truck.
            “Rafe—”
            “I’m not gonna ask again. Get in the truck, or I’ll fucking make you get in the truck.”
            You shook your head, taking a step back. His eyes flashed to the movement before flickering back up to yours. His gaze hardened, “Fine. My way it is.”
            Before he could shift his truck into park, you were already diving into the trees & running at a full sprint. It wasn’t a second or two later when you heard Rafe’s door slam shut before the sound of foliage being crushed sounded behind you.
            “_____!” Rafe yelled, “Get back here!”
            His voice, full of anger & determination, bounced off the trees as you ran past them & further into the woods. You couldn’t see shit in the dark & you could feel your ankles stumbling & whining in discomfort as you tried to keep your feet ahead of you on the uneven earth. Scared tears coated your cheeks as you pumped your legs, begging to any god anywhere to please get you out of there. But no divine intervention intervened.
            It was the worst feeling you could imagine when you felt a hand grip the fabric of your jacket & yank you backwards. The wind was knocked out of you when Rafe threw you to the forest floor.
            “We coulda worked this out.” Rafe huffed as he stood over you.
            You rolled onto your side, desperate for your lungs to open so you could breathe. But Rafe circled around you like a vulture getting ready for the kill. You weren’t sure you’d even get another breath of air before he stole whatever you had left.
            “We coulda talked, came to some sort of agreement!” He yelled in frustration, “But you’re just so fucking stubborn, so fucking defiant. You like that with Jack?”
            Rafe laughed darkly to himself, “Something tells me you’re not. You’re probably the most perfect woman with him.”
            You gasped sharply, painfully, when your lungs finally opened. Then you were coughing. But as you were coughing, you were searching for your bag in the dark. The taser. If you got your hands on that, you may have a chance.
            “Looking for this.” Rafe questioned.
            In the dark, you peered over at him as he held your purse by a single finger. He shook his head knowingly before gathering it in the palm of his hand & chucking it into the forest. You heard it thud somewhere in the distance. Fresh tears escaped you as Rafe used his shoe to roll you over onto your back.
            “Please, Rafe, don’t. I’m sorry for running.” You weren’t, but it was survival now to kiss up to him.
            But Rafe just stared down at you, “It’s too late for your apologies.”
            He bent at the knees then before grabbing a fistful of your hair & forcing you upwards into a sitting position. A pained whimper parted your lips, forcing you to bite your lip to stifle them.
            “What do you want then?” You cried out, your hands clinging to the grip he held on your hair.
            “Same thing as before.” Rafe responded, his voice flat & emotionless. You stopped crying to stare at him. He only gazed at you unfeelingly.
            “No.” You shook in his hold. “No!”
            You screamed & thrashed, trying to kick at him but Rafe easily overpowered you, forcing you back on your back as he climbed on top of you.
            “No! No! No!” You screamed, cried, begged over & over again. But all of your fight was falling on deaf ears. You beat your fists against his chest & back as he wrestled with you to get your jeans off. The chill of the forest erupted your skin with goosebumps & you felt like your heart was going to burst outside of your chest.
            Rafe was quick to remove his own jeans, shoving them down his thighs. Once he did, he focused on your upper half, yanking your arms out the sleeves of your jacket before pulling the top of your tube top down. You were practically fully naked in the middle of nowhere with Rafe Cameron on top of you.
            But that didn’t matter. You never stopped resisting him, never stopped trying to get him off you or hurt him. Everything you did though, it was like it didn’t register to him. Like he didn’t feel any of it. You knew Rafe was scary but this was a new level. He was a fucking monster.
            His fingers hooked around the fabric of your underwear & tugged on it until you heard the seams snap & tear. You desperately reached for the back of his hand, grabbing two handfuls of his hair before yanking as hard as you could.
            It was the first reaction Rafe gave. He hissed in response, ripping his head out from under your grasp. It was a short-lived win before you saw him raise the back of his hand & whip it across your face. A sharp gasp left you at the assault, & you tasted blood on your tongue as your lower lip burned.
            “This is what you said, _____.” Rafe snarled as he finished tearing your underwear from your body, “’Man up & give her what she deserves’. Those are your words.”
            Sobs racked your body as he repeated back to you your own demand of him.
            “That’s exactly,” He snatched you by the throat & raised you up enough until his face was only an inch away from your own, “what I’m doing. I’m giving you exactly what you deserve. What I should’ve done from the beginning.”
            He released you, & your head smacked against the soft earth but it did little to comfort the blow.
            You whimpered like a beaten & abused dog as Rafe wrestled your legs apart to fit himself snugly in between them. You placed your hands on his chest, using all your strength to prevent him from crushing you with his body but your strength was nothing compared to his. He forced your elbows to bend as he lowered himself on top of you until your chest were pressed against one another.
            “Don’t cry.” He kissed you on the side of your mouth, forcing you to whip your face away from him, “It’s nothing we haven’t done already.”
            A sharp pain shot up your spine as Rafe forced himself inside you. He chuckled darkly to himself as one of his hands caught you by your chin, forcing you to look at him. You desperately searched for anywhere else to look that wasn’t him but he was all you could see. That smug & evil smirk, the glint & prideful glow in his eyes. It only grew worse when he began to groan as he snapped his hips against yours.
            Your fingers dug themselves into the earth as Rafe raped you on the forest floor. You were hyperventilating beneath him, unfeeling from the waist down, but it was a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. You wished you could do what some women had reported happening when they were raped & how they were able to shut off their mind & go anywhere else, but yours wasn’t doing that. It was happening & you couldn’t stop it.
            Rafe tucked his face into your neck as he moaned loudly & freely, like a predator having caught his unwilling prey in the world of beasts. No one was coming. No one could hear your cries. This was Darwinism at it’s finest. Only the strong survived.
            Your tears had stopped but you were still panting, staring past Rafe’s head at the tops of the trees. You couldn’t make out the night sky beyond them. Everywhere you looked was pitch darkness, & you saw it most whenever Rafe forced you to look at him while he fucked you to his hearts content.
            It felt like hours before he finally came. He growled like the beast he was as he thrusted himself inside you as deep as he could go. You groaned in pain as your hips flared at the stretch of them. Your body shook beneath him as he stilled completely above you. But you could still feel his cock spitting his seed inside of you. The fact of that made bile rise in your throat.
            Rafe rolled off you a second later, hissing as his own body shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm. An ungodly burning & stinging pain originated from between your legs & you were terrified to see what he did to you.
            Then he started laughing. It wasn’t the loud, jovial kind you often heard in your bar, but the snarky, cocky kind that reminded you exactly of who he was in high school. You had heard it plenty of times.
            “God, that was good.” Rafe breathed out, “My imagination whenever I fuck Jules doesn’t even come close to that.”
            Jules’ face flashed through your mind & you rushed upwards. You turned to the side, holding your stomach as you bent over & vomited. Tears returned to your eyes, blurring your already dizzying vision as you emptied what little contents were in your stomach. As you continued to only throw up stomach acid & a few bites of food, you felt a hand on your back.
            A fit of fury came over you & you lashed out at Rafe as he attempting to comfort you. After he just raped you! It was a joke.
            But Rafe yowled as you swung your arm at him. This stole your attention & you peered through your dirtied hair as Rafe held his face. When he removed his hand to inspect his hand, you marveled at the three scratch marks going from his forehead down over his right eye & ending on his cheek.
            All you could do was start laughing. And then you couldn’t stop. You were laughing hysterically, pointing at Rafe like he was a kid on the playground who just got humiliated in front of everyone. He snarled at you, knocking your hand away & catching you by the throat.
            “You think that’s funny?” He sneered.
            You grinned, still laughing despite your air being restricted. Rafe growled before throwing you back to the forest floor.
            “I’ll tell you what’s funny, _____.” He yanked on your shoulder, turning you over to face him, “Here’s the deal. And its your only two options so I’d listen real fucking close.”
            You glared up at him, wanting nothing more than to finished what claws did & tear his skin completely from his face.
            “You’re gonna get in my fucking truck, we’re going to the apartment, & you’re going to go to your room. I’m going into Jules & I’m either going to A. break up with her & tell her we’re together or B. do to her what I just did to you. And I’ll do far worse to her.”
            The threat forced your panic riddled body to leap upwards, “Don’t!”
            “I won’t, unless you make me. That’s your choice, _____. I either stay with her & hurt her every fucking day, or I get you & I’ll never lay a finger on her.”
            You shook your head, staring up at him, “Please, Rafe, you got what you wanted. Just leave us alone.”
            He sighed, kneeling down to be eye level with you, “I want you. All of you. All the time. And for everyday I go without that, Jules will suffer.”
            Imagining Rafe doing to Jules what he just did to you forced fresh sobs from you. You covered your mouth to stifle the cries. You couldn’t let him do that to her. You didn’t care if it meant she’d hate you forever. You just couldn’t let him hurt her. No one deserved that. Not even you. But were strong. You may have been Rafe’s prey that night, but you were a survivor. But if you knew what Rafe was doing to Jules every day in & night out, you’d never be able to live with yourself. One way or another, someone was getting hurt. You knew it had to be you.
            “So?” Rafe tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “We have a deal?”
            You leaned away from his touch, but peered up at him through your wet lashed.
            Rafe saw the resolve in your eyes. He grinned devilishly.
            Only the strong survive, you repeated to yourself.
            Only the strong survive.
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i'm fuckin' whipped, babes. like whhhhhiiiipped. i cannot believe i cranked this out in less than 12 hours but fuck. i. did. it.
this is 3/10 requests from my 500 followers celebration request opening!
as always, please share your thoughts w me via commenting, reblogging w reviews, or talking to me in the ask box. i'm super antsy to here what ya'll think of this ridiculously lengthy one shot.
thank you for reading! & thank you for the anon who requested, i hope they are happy!
oona<3
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Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.
[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]
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starlostseungmin · 2 months
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whispers ─── lee felix.
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✰ notes : first of all i'd like to announce that i reached 3k friends here! thank you so much for that and i appreciate every single one of you! <33 anyway if you watched ABOUT TIME movie, you are already familiar with this scene because it's inspired by it. i just made a bit of changes and with felix in it so i hope you guys like it (this is not proofread btw) also, please DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS after reading! thank you <33
✰ tags : @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji
masterlist | taglist.
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felix went home a bit late that one saturday night after work. he had to see the movie he promised to watch with jeongin at the cinema. you bailed out after he invited you when he mentioned he got tickets and made a reason to sleep on a day off. he parted ways with jeongin around the block and walked home, alone. 
it was cold, he could see the smoke coming out from his mouth as his hands shoved inside the pockets of his jacketーthe stars were illuminating the dark sky with a few clouds in sight but his eyes wandered around the streets. he was supposed to take the train back to your shared apartment but didn’t want to be disrupted by noisy passengers with loud music banging their ears from their earphones and he tried to take some time to think. 
you’ve been dating for the past three years and it has been amazing. he never felt so happy and contented. the joy cannot be compared to any other things. it was that time when the two of you met at a diner just outside the office where you were working. the purpose was to grab dinner and go home then, this wonderful man showed up who had gotten the love at first sight experience. an opportunity came in and a conversation. he invited you to dates every weekend until the feelings got deeper after getting to know each other for weeks, made the relationship official with labels, and decided to live together. 
for the past three years, it was magical as it made tons of memories that you and felix couldn’t write every single one of them in your journal. the polaroids that were taken are hanging on the walls of your room with dates written on each one of them. those plushies he won for you sat on the shelves, the books being piled up being read or untouched, the albums from your favorite artists being displayed on the table along with the music player and vinyl, the flowers on the vases, the letters and other gifts you’ve exchangedーit was sweet. 
having this amazing relationship with felix is like reading a book without a synopsis or a summary from the covers or even the first pages. you don’t know what’s going to happen. it’s like living every day and there are things you cannot control. it’s either you read and go on with the story with curiosity and braveness or do not read the book at all and miss a series of events that could change your life. yet, you chose to read the book and the author created a love story you could ask for. it did change your life as well as felix’s but one thing’s for sure, there are a lot of trials on the way but it would start by holding your hands together to make a stronger bond, just like how chemical bonds create structures. 
he went inside as quietly as possible as he didn’t want to ruin your slumber. the lights were switched off in the living room and only the entrance’s light censor made him see through the dark as he removed his shoes. 
felix has thought of all the possibilities and the impossible, the rights and wrongs, the obstacles and smooth ways while walking. the consistency of this relationship must remain and be locked. he knew it wouldn’t be fancy but he promised himself that he’ll do it in a way that the two of you would prefer. and now, he’s here, looking at your sleeping figure being wrapped around that white duvet. 
“baby,” he called softly as he shook your shoulder lightlyーkneeling down on the carpeted floor of your room. 
“hmm?” you hummed in response. “five more minutes.” you muttered making him let out a soft chuckle. 
“no, baby, wake up,” he said. “i have something important to ask,” 
your eyes flutter open, from a blurry vision to a clear frame directed at his face. a smiley felix welcomed you as he caressed your hair when you were about to sit up. 
“no, just lay down,” he said. 
“okay,” you smiled. “what is it?” you asked, feeling relaxed on your soft mattress and the coziness of your pillow. 
“you know that we’re happy, right?” he paused as you nodded in response. “i don’t know if it’s the movie i watched with jeongin that made me feel this way, it's always the romance genre that would hit me to reality and the thought that i always have you by my side—” he added when you put your index finger on his lips, hearing a piece of romantic music playing gently from the living room as it echoes through the open door of your room. 
“is that romantic music?” you asked. “and you’re on your knees while saying something that i doubt is not just a love confession,” you added while fighting to stay awake which felix laughed shyly. 
“yeah,” he said, licking his lower lip in embarrassment. “i am,” 
“go on,” you smiled. 
“will you marry me?” he asked which made your smile bigger and now you’re fully awake. 
“i think,” you paused, clearing your throat. “i’m going to say, yes to that,” you added, looking at him in awe, saying; “and thank you for doing this that does not involve a lot of people and other crowds. i don’t like many people,” 
felix smiled gently and placed a soft kiss on your lips before tracing his fingers on your cheeks, “i also don’t like people,” he said. “thank you for saying yes,” he whispered before leaning forward to kiss you again. 
“i love you, darling,” you said in between. 
“i love you more,” he answered. “get back to sleep, alright? i’ll join you in 10,” 
“okay,” you said softly as he smiled, leaving a kiss on your forehead before exiting the room shushing han and seungmin for playing the instruments he asked for support outside. 
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©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.
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Host of a Ghost
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Mild violence. Very, very light mention of a foiled SA (not to reader). Some angst.
Word count: 4.1K
Short A/N: This man has become my hyperfixation since I watched the movie and I'd been wanting to write something with him and today finally the muse came to me do I deliver you this decent-sized thing I wrote. Hope you like it <3
PART II
“Unusual” wasn’t a word you would’ve used to describe your life at all. At least not until about a year ago.
It was unusual to find a spider with such an odd color palette roaming your apartment since you were used to more dull-colored typical critters. It was also unusual that you didn’t panic enough to turn the apartment upside down to look for the thing before it bit you, but there was too much work to do, and a million notes from Dr. Connors to go over. It was equally unusual that you hadn’t rushed to the hospital the minute you noticed the tiny marks on your thigh.
“I mean, if it was really dangerous, it would have hurt more.” Was your reasoning to ignore it and keep scanning the pages before you. Nobody said pursuing a Ph.D. was without sacrifice. 
By the time you tried to stand up to make more coffee just to end up collapsing on your kitchen floor, it was much too late.
From then on, “unusual” was pretty much every day’s motto.
Having a nightmare that night about being suffocated and unable to escape just to wake up hanging upside down and wrapped in sticky shit was the first clue. Turns out you were actually able to produce said sticky shit at will in the shape of a thin thread, then you discovered the wall-climbing abilities, and before you knew it you were roaming the city at night trying to get comfortable threading between the tall buildings, running across rooftops and challenging yourself to climb this or that building as fast as you could. You felt indestructible, alive. It was wonderful.
You’d never forget the night of your first save either. For several reasons.
It was an ordinary night, right before returning to your apartment, when a violent shiver abruptly ran up your spine and every cell in your body commanded you to stop. When you did, a scuffle in a nearby alley caught your eye. A young girl was violently shoved against a wall by a man who pressed his hand against her mouth. The same second his hand came dangerously close to the zipper of her jacket, you practically tackled him from above and pinned him against the ground, having no clue of what to do besides throwing punches at his face until you knocked him out. A whimper coming from a dumpster behind made you realize you had an audience.
“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, remembering your uncovered face, the only solution at hand is to wrap your scarf around your head to try and hide as much as possible, “Oh god this feels too much like cultural appropriation for my taste,” You kept nervously rambling to yourself as you slowly approached the dumpster.
“Um…hi,” You greeted, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
Being met with nothing but silence, you were about to leave when a soft voice replied.
“No. He didn’t. Thank you so much.”
“Is there…I don’t know; is there somebody you want me to call?”
“I want to call my mom.” She replied, her voice still shaking, “He took my phone.”
“Right. Phone. Okay.” You quickly made your way back to the unconscious man and pawed his clothes looking for it. He let out a groan in protest.
“Yeah it doesn’t feel right, does it asshole?” You muttered as you retrieved it from one of his pockets. Then you shoved him onto his stomach to tie his hands and legs behind his back before returning to the girl.
“Here. It still works,” You just held it over the dumpster, seeing nothing but her pale hand as it reached out to take it before you took a few steps back. 
“No, wait,” She immediately pleaded, “Please don’t leave me alone with him.”
“Like hell I am. I’m staying right here.”
So you waited with her until the police arrived. However, the minute you saw the flickering lights and heard the approaching siren, you retreated into the dark part of the alley and climbed onto the nearest building to escape through the rooftops.
It wasn’t until you were back in your apartment that you realized you’d been smiling all the way home. Carefully shutting the window behind you, you let yourself fall onto the couch and screamed joyfully, the pillow muffling the sound.
She was okay. A person was okay because you could intervene and do something about it.
However, a new wave of shivers flooded your veins so abruptly that you sat down immediately.
“Yeah, I know how that feels,” Came a feminine voice from the unlit kitchen, “Being able to help, I mean.”
You scrambled to your feet and started walking backward. However, the voice didn’t remain hidden for too long. A woman emerged from the shadows, dressed in red with a yellow hairband pushing her near-afro hair back. She greeted you with a soft smile.
“Your reflexes need polishing,”
“My…?” You repeated, dumbfounded.
“And you have to learn how to fight properly. Randomly throwing punches isn’t always going to cut it,”
“I’m sorry, who are you? Why are you in my apartment? Were you following me? Do you know about…?”
“Whoa, slow down, kid. I know you have questions, and I might be able to help you with that. But you’re going to have to come with me.”
“Alright, I’ll…let me just get my car keys,”
“Oh, sweetie,” The woman said in between laughs, not malicious but truly amused, “You have so much to learn,”
You were starting to wonder why she had elongated that “o” like that until, after pressing a few buttons on the device around her wrist, something that you would’ve described as a “black hole on LSD” erupted in the middle of your living room.
That night you learned that her name was Jessica Drews and that she was completely right about you having so much to learn. With a four-second-o.
Over the following months, you became capable of things you didn’t think possible. Walls that took you a minute to climb became easy obstacles that didn’t take up more than fifteen seconds of your time, your fighting skills had also improved exponentially under Jess’s tutelage, and of course, going from a life where you could count your friends with less than one hand to being constantly surrounded by amazing (no pun intended) Spider-People who not only understood the changes you were going through but warmly welcomed you into their circle was more than you could’ve asked for.
Well, perhaps some more willingly than others. And by others you meant him.
He, who seemed to be always around, silently watching but never intervening.
He, who despite being allegedly “always locked up in his lab” always seemed to personally oversee your training since day one.
Whom you’d tried to greet as gleefully as you did the others just to receive, if anything, a vague nod of acknowledgment. In your first three months, you had spoken maybe four times. Well, you had. He only hummed, nodded, or answered in monosyllables. You knew better than to waste your energy with people like that, but for some reason you were unwilling to just accept Miguel O’Hara didn’t like you and that was that.
“For some reason” being code for “I’m one second away from fainting every time he as much as looks in my direction,”
You weren’t a child, for crying out loud. You were aware that no matter how cold, distant, and seemingly indifferent the leader of your new team was, he was an insanely attractive man. Even with the fangs…no, especially with the fangs, for some reason. His whole aura that screamed “completely-inaccessible-frighteningly-powerful-twice-my-size-man” had you harboring a huge crush on him within two months of meeting him. So painfully unrequited that it was embarrassing.   Just the fact he could ignore your greetings and surely never think twice of it but you would spend the rest of the day wondering what you could’ve possibly said to make him at least say “hello” back made you want to scream into a pillow until your throat burned.
It was right up there with the time he’d muttered ‘much better’ when he saw you land a kick you’d been practicing and those three seconds kept playing on your head for the rest of the week.
The night of your first mission you decided you were going to prove your worth, not to your crush but to your team leader.
“I told him you’re ready,” Jess said with a proud smile, “He’s going to call you in sometime throughout the day to let you know where you’ll be going and with whom, probably me. How do you feel?”
“Excited, I guess,” You replied, pressing your lips together anxiously, “Also nervous. I don’t want to screw this up.”
“With me as your mentor? That’s unlikely,” Jess replied with a wink, giving you an encouraging pat on your shoulder as she walked away.
However, the day continued normally. You did some assigned tasks here and there, which mostly included helping Spider-Byte to keep everything running smoothly given your background in the tech field. You grabbed lunch, then thought it would be a good idea to train some more before going away.
You were beginning to lose all hope when, as you leaned down to fix some wiring, Lyla popped right beside your head and called your name so loudly you hit your head against the metal and hissed. One year and still you hadn’t used to the way she appeared out of nowhere.
“Oops, sorry,” She promptly apologized, “Well you’ll have to walk that off, Miguel wants to see you STAT.”
“How am I supposed to walk a head injury off, Lyla?” You joked, rubbing your forehead as you rushed across the halls with the holographical figure floating after you.
“Not in my code,” She replied using her usual excuse.
When you walked into his working space, Miguel’s back was turned to you as he used a digital pen to do some annotations on what looked like blueprints of new equipment. After he didn’t react to your presence for a few seconds, you hesitantly walked closer and cleared your throat.
“That looks nice. Is it a new suit?” You asked, as always, trying to start a conversation.
“I just received an alert about the…” He stopped and sighed as if saying the silly nickname was physically painful to him, “…the Go-Home-Machine. It said there was a small power overload since we sent back that Vulture from the 192-011 Universe.”
“Yeah, but Byte and I are already working on that and it should be fully functional by tomorrow morning,” You replied, a bit confused as to what that had to do with your mission.
“Good. Let me know as soon as it’s fixed.” Miguel hastily replied, not even turning to face you until a whole minute passed and he realized you were still standing there. Even then, he just barely turned his head.
“That’s all, (Y/N). Thank you.”
That’s all? What do you mean that’s all?
“Was there something else you wanted to do?” He asked. Shit. You’d said that out loud.
“I…Jessica told me that I’m ready to go on a mission and that today you…”
“I said I would think about it, and I have.”
He fell silent again. No matter how attractive he was, you were starting to truly get pissed at his stupid theatrical antics.
“And?”
“And the answer’s no. You’re not ready yet.”
That felt like all the disappointments in your entire life added up and multiplied by ten. Especially because of how easily he dismissed you despite being aware of how hard you’d worked, how many nights you decided to forgo hours of sleep just to train and polish every movement until it was as close to flawless as you could.
“Not ready yet?” You practically hissed in a voice you almost didn’t recognize. Hell, it was enough for him to put down the pen. “Not ready yet? That kid Pavitr has been here for what? A month? And he’s already going off on missions. Alone, I might add!”
Unsurprisingly, he did not answer.
“And he’s very, very good, I’m not saying he isn’t. But I’m just as good. And more experienced, both at being here and at being a Spider-Person. I have completed every training scenario you’ve thrown my way, worked my ass off to understand every bit of information regarding interdimensional traveling, and studied the protocol to control anomalies, what is it that you still need me to prove?”
He took a deep breath. So deep that his shoulders rose, flexing the muscles of his back in such a way that if you hadn’t been so angry, you would’ve been too distracted to keep arguing. Even with your blood boiling, you couldn’t help but stare and feel your stomach tense at the sight.
“Do you like being part of this team, (Y/N)? Do you like training in our headquarters, having access to all our information, and maintaining contact with the other members of this society?”
“Of course I do,” You replied immediately. Slowly, Miguel turned around to face you completely and walked towards you, descending the two small steps that separated you until he stood towering over you. Even if your knees were about to give in to this unexpected closeness, this wasn’t the time to fold. You held his glare defiantly and folded your arms in an attempt to mentally guard yourself against him.
“Then I suggest you get in line and do as you’re told,” He said in a low voice. But it wasn’t threatening, or condescending. It was an odd, flat tone. Tired, perhaps. Almost as if…as if he was reprimanding you against his will.
He was almost unbearably close. You could feel his breath hitting your face. If right then all logic flew out of the window and you stood on your tiptoes you could…
“I’ll do that when you’ve earned my respect, and I have a policy of reciprocity when it comes to respect, Miguel. I’ve been in line for a year, I’ve listened, learned, and improved so much that if you’re still looking down on me, then it’s your problem, not mine. And no self-righteous, big-headed…”
“Just get out,” He cut you off, once again turning his back to you and walking towards the blueprints again.
“Oh no, I’m not finished…” You insisted, trying to follow him. However, as soon as you gave one step forward he turned around so violently that you stumbled backward and stared at him with something you hadn’t felt towards him up until then: fear.
“Yes, you are,” Was his only reply. As dull as the others.
While you could only see his face for a moment before he walked past you and left the room, something about his expression stuck with you even hours later, when you laid on your bed at night and combed through the scene over and over. You thought he would be fuming, maybe even shocked that you’d dared to talk to him like that. The last thing you expected was for him to look…upset. Hurt, even. The mere thought of you being able to hurt Miguel O’Hara was as ridiculous as imagining a goldfish fighting back against a shark. Still, you realized that even if you thought he was in the wrong, you felt bad about how things went down back there. You would never understand what being the leader of hundreds of super-powered people was like. Commanding each and directing their particular abilities as best as he could all while maintaining a vigilant eye on endless strings of causes and effects because he knew firsthand the consequences of being careless with them.
Even if he had made a mistake with you and of course you still wanted to address it later, right then all you wanted was to apologize.
And so, not even an hour later you were roaming the halls of the HQ, your heart beating furiously as you got closer to his quarters, wondering what you could even begin to say.
When the automatic doors slid open, you stepped inside and turned back to look as the doors closed behind you. Well, no turning back now.
“Miguel?” You called, looking around the large room, pondering whether a first-name basis was okay. After everything that had happened, going back to Mr. O’Hara sounded terribly stupid. Then your eyes landed on the row of screens where he spent most of his time. An extremely ill-timed wave of curiosity filled your chest as you approached them, taking another look at the seemingly empty room before stepping onto the platform. Getting bolder, you reached out your hand and brushed your fingertips across one of the screens. It immediately came to life with a blue glow, startling you and making you curse under your breath. You were about to look for a button to switch it off when a video started playing automatically from where he had left off. He was in it, holding a young girl. Miguel wasn’t just smiling. He was laughing. His laugh was exactly as you’d pictured it. Not particularly loud, but hearty and low. He had the kind of laugh that made you unwittingly smile as well as a newfound sympathy filled your chest as tears filled your eyes when you pictured that being taken from him just like that. How could one have a family, and then one day be completely alone and keep going?
With a renewed disposition to make things better between you, your hand reached out for the switch that would turn the screen off until a third voice piqued your interest. It belonged to whoever was holding the camera.
“Would you please stop hoarding her? I deserve some mother-daughter time too! Here, hold this thing and give her to me,” The voice said between laughs. There was something about that voice that made an extremely cold shiver run down your spine.
“Fine, you’re right. Bueno pues, mijita, ve con mamá, ¿quieres ir con mamá?”
The picture became blurry as the camera switched places with a giggling Gabriella, who could be briefly seen stretching her arms toward the third figure.
“Alright,” Came Miguel’s voice again, “But when I turn the camera towards you I want both of you to blow Daddy a kiss, can you do that for me?”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned the camera around.
And then you found yourself staring into your own eyes. They weren’t quite the same shade as yours, and “your” hair was styled differently. And “you” had freckles. But otherwise, it was like staring into an interdimensional mirror. Then, your voice spoke.
“Okay sweetie, let’s humor him, shall we? Blow Daddy a kiss. And another one from me because now I have to use both arms to hold you, my big girl!”
Miguel laughed again at the way his daughter’s face lit up at being called a “big girl”.
“¿Saben que las amo a las dos, verdad?”
“And Gabriella loves you too. I think you’re…nice enough.”
“(Y/N), I don’t think you marry somebody for ‘nice enough’, mi amor,”
“I love you too. Against my better judgment.”
With one last interrupted laugh, the video ended, and, in a cruel irony, the once again black screen showed your actual reflection.
Except this time, it wasn’t the only one. With a loud gasp, you turned around. After seeing him in that video, it became much more evident that the Miguel in it was nothing but a memory of the past. And in a matter of seconds, everything shifted into place like a gloomy puzzle. His expression was unreadable, though he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were fixed on the empty screen.
“I wasn’t supposed to ever see that, was I?” Was the only thing that came to your mind after a lengthy, tense silence.
“What good would it have done?” He replied, almost numbly.
“So that’s why you’ve always…stared?” You kept pushing. Against your better judgment, you thought.
“It was at first,” Came his only response. Like always, it seemed like you would have to tear the answers off him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, turning your head to look for his eyes. Even then, something warm filled your chest. Something that made your heart beat so quickly you felt as if it would stop at any moment, and it spread all over you no matter how much you tried to fend it off. Hope.
Surprisingly, this time he caved in and looked at you. Still, the answer never came. For the first time in all the time you’d known him, Miguel O’Hara was at a loss for words. And that said more than anything he could’ve come up with.
“And you expect me to believe that, by sheer chance, you happened to catch feelings for somebody who is practically your wife’s interdimensional twin?”
“It sounds so much worse when you say it like that,” Was that a hint of a smile? An attempt at a joke? One year and the only time he’d bothered to be decent to you was when you were talking about how much you looked like her?
With an annoyed look, you moved away from him and started to make your way to the exit.
“Do you think I wanted this?” He spoke rather loudly, his whispers going out of the window as he started to follow you across the room.
Miguel O’Hara following you to keep you from leaving. Just hours before you would’ve died of happiness at the mere thought of this scenario. Right now, your brain was a flurry of thoughts and emotions that you didn’t know how to handle.
“I was doing an amazing job at keeping my distance. Watching you from afar, seeing you laugh, grow, win everybody over with that awfully big heart of yours, and still I reined myself in,” He continued, “Today’s the perfect example. You thought I didn’t respect you, for fuck’s sake! I respect you so much that every single day I have ignored you and pretended you are nothing but another face in the halls. Damn it, (Y/N), I couldn’t even look you in the eye when for months you’ve been all I’ve wanted. All because I didn’t know if I loved you or what was left of her. And I didn’t want you to get involved in shit that’s mine to figure out.”
Hearing him not only withdraw his previous statement of you not being capable of doing things and accepting the problem was his and not yours made you stop in your tracks.
Fine, the sudden (though odd) love declaration had something to do with it too.
“So you don’t think I’m not ready?” You asked, turning around and even taking some steps towards him.
“Are you serious? I’ve watched you closely all these months. You learn in days what others do in weeks. You push yourself way more than so many of our members and yet I’ve never, ever seen you become overconfident. Today you never said you knew everything. You said you knew enough.”
This time, it was you who remained silent. There was something else you wanted him to elaborate on, and from the look in his eyes, you realized he knew damn well what it was.
“You were right. The problem wasn’t yours. It was mine all along. I could manage to push you away and keep my feelings at bay. But knowing that you were eventually going to go out there and take so many risks...worst case scenario, you could get hurt or not come back at all. That was too much for me to handle, s’all.”
“Were you afraid of losing me…?” You started to ask just for him to interrupt you.
“Yes. Very much.” However, you lifted a hand to stop him. You weren’t finished.
“Were you afraid of losing me, or were you afraid of losing her again, Miguel?”
Three seconds later, when no answer came out of his mouth, you were about to turn around once again when he rushed and stood in front of you. For a second, you thought he was going to grab your shoulders to keep you in place. Not wanting to come off as if he was forcing you to stay, his hands just hovered on both sides of your shoulders without touching you.
“Listen, she wasn’t a picky eater like you are. But I swear that woman never drank enough water and every time I see you there’s either a bottle in your hand or laying around. And she was so, so messy. It took us at least ten minutes to find the keys every single time…and Spider-Byte said you sort your tools by size and color. Color. (Y/N), I don’t think even I…”
“Are you getting somewhere with this?”
“You’re not her, (Y/N). You have never been, and you never will, I know that. I want you to know that I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. I love you.”
After that, he moved out of the way and folded his arms.
“If you want to go back to your dimension and stay there for a while…or for good, I don’t know, I completely…”
“I love you too, you know?” You cut him off, pressing your lips together after blurting out the three words that’d been haunting you for the past months. Words that up until now you were sure would never leave your chest. When you turned to look at him, you saw in his eyes what minutes ago had filled yours. Hope.
God, his face was so hauntingly beautiful when his features softened.
“What do you want from me?” You finally asked him, your voice shaky from the effect you knew his answer would have regardless of what it was.
Miguel moved closer to you almost hesitantly, his eyes never leaving yours. When he was close enough, he reached out with both his hands and slid them up the back of your neck, his thumbs tucked in front of your ears as his warm palms engulfed the back of your head so he could hold you while he brought his face down to press his forehead against yours.
“Mi amor, I’d give you all I am and be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me for now,”  
You knew it would take some time for you to get used to hearing him say things like that without wondering if you were the only one in his mind when he did. It would be a while until you felt completely certain that you were made of flesh and bone and not just a ghost in his eyes, but it would happen. You saw his eyes as he drew his face closer to yours and when your lips touched, you knew that it would definitely happen sooner or later. Until then, you thought as you stood on your tiptoes when he almost desperately pressed his lips onto yours, he was very much worth the wait.
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Heeeey pookie!!
i loved your Arthur fic too much, the man deserves to receive more love here🥹🫶🫶 I have two ideas for you, which in my head make more sense. I will try to explain myself as best as I can but in reality this is not my strong point LMAO
If you want and can write something about loving every little thing the reader does, such as the habit of brushing his hair behind his ears or, for example, when he reads a book that she cries, smiles or curses as if he LOVES that about her. 😮‍💨💗
Or maybe something about him being a little jealous and possessive not in a grotesque sense like I had to defend her from someone in a bar or something, like her being too nice by not wanting to walk away so as not to hurt the other person even if it's bothering her (that happens to me often haha😅)
Maybee some of the care for her when she's sick 🥹🥹
Of course, only if you feel comfortable with these ideas, which were more than two, I apologize for that, I'm a little excited.🧍🏻‍♀️🫶🫶
(I hope I have made myself understood, also English is not my first language, I am sorry if this is complicated when read or understood, also sorry this was so long :(, anyway much love to you 💗💗💗💗)
Little things
A/N: I am going to write all of them, they're so cute. Arthur absolutely deserves more love, he's underrated. Don't worry btw, your English is fantastic. I'm actually Australian so my spelling of certain words are different to everyone else's 😅. Keep an eye on my page for the next few days, I'll release them soon (I just need to finish my uni assignment first, whoops 🤷‍♀️). I hope I did what you were thinking 🫶🫶
Arthur Leclerc x reader
Warnings: Fluffy/Simp Arthur
Synopsis: "If you want and can write something about loving every little thing the reader does, such as the habit of brushing his hair behind his ears or, for example, when he reads a book that she cries, smiles or curses as if he LOVES that about her. 😮‍💨💗" - This part of the request.
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You and Arthur were lying on the couch watching a movie after a long day. You propped up my pillows with Arthur on top of you, head resting on your chest. Your fingers started to scratch the back of his scalp, slowly worth their way up. He sighed as he pressed himself deeper into you, nuzzling his face into your skin. He lifted his head up and pecked your lips. You look down at him and giggled, “what was that for, baby?”. He looked up at you with a peaceful smile, his eyes brimming with love as he replied “just appreciating the small things” before resting his head back on your chest as you kept scratching his head.
The next time it happened, you guys were cuddled up in bed and you were reading a book. It might be one of the saddest books you had ever read in your life (for this I’m gonna use “Bridge to Terabithia” cuz I feel like everyone read it for school). You got the the chapter where the girl fell into the creek and drowned. The pure amount of detail broke your heart and sent you into a sobbing mess. Your sniffles caught Arthur’s attention, he looked down the see his shirt beginning to get wet. He pulled you up to face him as we wiped your tears. “Hey hey hey what happened mi amor?” He rushed. You explained what happened, causing Arthur to give you that look again. A peaceful smile, eyes brimming with love, he pecked your lips, “how about we read a happier book?” He suggested. “No” you said as you made eye contact again “I just wanna cuddle”. He grinned and settled down, pulling you into him “that is something I can definitely do”. You smiled as you tucked yourself into his side.
Another instance was when you and Arthur were walking through the paddock. The crowd was pushing and shoving, sweeping you away with them. Arthur quickly realised you had gotten caught up, jogging back to guide you again. You think your right hand to his left, your left hand coming up to hold his strong bicep on the same arm, basically wrapping yourself around his arm. You have his hand a little squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder when he squeezed back. You made it to the Ferrari garage and you knew you would need to let go but you didn’t want to, do you didn’t. Arthur planted a kiss on your forehead and gave you that dopey, in love look he gives you in moments like these. “What?” You laughed. Arthur pecked your lips “nothing my love” he mumbled against them, “just admiring” he winked. Just like a school girl, you giggled and then cuddled into him, are grip still tight on his arm.
What really stood out is when you were cleaning your shared apartment. You were going through your shared closet when you found a brown leather book. The title on the inside of the book, in Arthur’s unmistakeable handwriting, was “those moments”. You flicked through the book and saw dates and times, which matched to all the moments when Arthur gave you the look. Scratching his head on the couch, crying at a book, being clingy at the paddock, it was all there. What you didn’t know, was that Arthur was leaning on the door frame, watching you read his little things journal. “Find something good, amor?” You jumped at his question. “I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t be snooping but I’ve never seen it before, and I had no idea what it was for. I’m sorry, I should’ve given you your privacy an-” Arthur cut you off with a kiss. “Im glad you found it. Everytime you ask about this “look” I give you, you now know what I was feeling and thinking. Is that ok amor?” He has a glimmer of home in his eyes as he asks you. You put the book back where you got it from, wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed him deep “of it is, I love you Arthur” “I love you mi amor”
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Making a Move
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Summary: Spencer's been seeing someone new, and the last thing he wants is to mess this up
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff
Word count: 1.8k
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Hotch called a meeting over the phone, and the team is waiting for him and Rossi at the Roundtable. In the meantime, everyone else has made their stops at the coffee machine, Spencer included. He was having his second cup (the first one was from his apartment), but he didn’t need the team to know that. Although not as romantic as expected, his late night was worth the extra yawns and blurred vision. He’d rather the team not know about that too.
“What’s got you so tired, kid?”
Too late.
Morgan fiddles with a pen between his fingers. As he asks, his eyebrow arches; he’s ready for an answer. His question brings everyone’s eyes to him.
“Nothing,” Spencer says.
“Nothing?” He knows that’s not it. The pact to not profile each other basically ended before it started. “Cause this is the third time in the past two weeks you’ve come in here yawning like every ten seconds.”
“It’s nothing. Maybe I need more coffee.”
Garcia pokes her head up from behind her laptop. “You never have more than one cup of coffee at the office unless you really need it.” She’s still typing while looking at him. “You don’t even suggest it. Until now.” Typing halts, and Spencer sees the realization in her eyes. He knows he can’t stop the tide from coming. “Ooo, what’s his name?”
“It’s not a guy.” Spencer sips his coffee, sugar granules sliding over his tongue as he swallows.
“So it’s a girl.” Prentiss butts in with a smirk.
Spencer rubs his hand on his forehead.
“It is!” Garcia unleashes a squeal. “Okay, what’s her name?” Her magenta nails are out like a cat exposing its claws, and Spencer knows she’s prepared to start a free background check.
“He’s not going to tell us,” Prentiss says.
“What about her job? What does she do?”
A kindergarten teacher. “Not saying that either,” Spencer replies.
“Well, has anything happened between you two?” Morgan joins back in.
Just hello and goodbye hugs.
“Guys,” J.J. calls. She’s standing by the projector, remote in hand. “It’s Spence’s business. He’ll tell us when he wants to. Okay?” She uses her mom voice, and Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if the following words out of her mouth were, “If I hear another word about this, you’re all grounded.” It’s comforting, even though he knew she’d have his back.
Sighs of disappointment and protest around the table were not subtle, but they were as close to a verbal “okay” as she was getting. J.J. accepts it anyway and eventually takes a seat. Garcia leans over and asks about Hotch and Rossi, likely regarding where they could be. Spencer wonders the same thing; so they can get started.
And because Morgan keeps staring at him. He’s eager for Spencer to spill. He even leans over. “Seriously, kid, nothing?”
“I’m not afraid to tattle,” Spencer whispers back. He finds his book, The Life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. He read it a couple days ago, yet opened a page and busied himself with the paperback. Morgan’s eyes are still staring. He’s not letting this go, even if this briefing led to the jet. Spencer makes the mistake of looking back at him for a moment, and he has no choice. He turned the page of his book and mumbled, “I want something to happen, though.” He bites his lips closed when the words finally leave them.
Spencer’s opened the door, welcoming Morgan and his sleazy smile. Something he — hell — that they’ve all seen and grown too familiar with at bars and clubs. “Alright, that’s what I like to hear.” He shakes Spencer’s bony shoulder. “My man.”
Spencer can’t help but grin, not in response, but because of last night. He was worried you’d consider him cheap or creepy for choosing to watch a movie at his apartment instead of the theater. He was hoping to make a move. Spencer thought you looked so cozy in your polka-dot sweater; he wished he could reach out and touch the material. It looked so soft. But all the mistakes he made might’ve ruined the chance for that.
“What’d you do?” Morgan whispers.
“I sat too far away at first. I tried moving closer but… I didn’t want to come off as weird. Then I excused myself to get some water, but then it still didn’t feel right and —”
“So you chickened out?”
“I didn’t chicken out.”
He chickened out.
“Okay, well, it’s good you’re not all over her. You’re giving her space and showing her respect. But Reid,” He ruffles his hair. Spencer smiles, and it’s the only thing that keeps J.J. from giving a lecture. “You’ve been on three dates. She likes you, man. She’s probably waiting.”
“But what if she —”
“She does. And you need to go in knowing that and display some confidence. When are you seeing her again?”
“Tonight. We’re getting ice cream.” Spencer tries to suppress his lips curling. It doesn’t work.
“See. Now let me give you some pointers.”
It’s been a while since Spencer’s built such a natural rapport with someone, especially someone in a field furthest away from the grim glimpses of humanity he sees.
He surprised you with a visit during your lunch last week. The vibrant colors in your wardrobe match your classroom. The walls covered in handmade decorations and class-made crafts are a refreshing difference from the dark basements and fluorescent-lit interrogation rooms. The light in your eyes when discussing your students is something Spencer doesn’t get to see often, and he didn’t want to lose it by moving too fast.
Displaying confidence was something that came naturally to Morgan. “Displaying” didn’t feel honest, Spencer thought,  more like a front. Then again, that’s what all displays really were. Spencer’s only known how to be himself. Morgan does have a point, though. He’s already been on three dates. So being himself has worked so far. But he’s sure he needs a little more.
On the walk to the agreed-upon spot, Spencer grips the strap of his satchel as he trudges uphill. It helps him burn off the nervous energy as he gets closer. But when he sees you sitting at one of the outdoor tables, he’s reminded again why he should be. You’re wearing a flowy yellow dress and white tennis shoes. The one difference from last night is the ends of your hair, brunette roots leading to dark pink ends.
You stand up and start walking toward him, beaming already. “Hey!” Your arms are already out, and you hug. Spencer notes you smell like coconut.
“Hey, you,” He tries to make it sound natural. His hand lingers at your waist for a second. “Your hair,” That same hand touches the ends. “It’s pretty.” He smiles, taking in your individuality. He thinks about how much you and Garcia would get along.
“Thank you,” your brightness radiates as you giggle. “It’s the most I can get away with at school, so I figured I might as well push the limits while I can. Plus, the kids love it.”
Spencer’s brain immediately goes to statistics about school dress codes and how they likely change the following year. He holds back. Morgan’s taught him that sharing statistics can apparently kill the mood. He even reminded him before Spencer left (early). “I’m sure they do.”
Your eyebrows quirk. “You okay?”
“Yeah, doll, I’m fine.” He tries again, but it’s taking everything for him not to cringe in front of you.
“No, you’re acting weird.” You cross your arms.
“Am I?” Spencer’s chest tightens.
“Oh yeah.” You snicker. “What’s up? Tell me about it.”
Spencer doesn’t exactly know how to say, “I really like you but I’m terrified of messing this up so I’m attempting to put on a terrible impression of a macho man because I want to kiss you and I feel like being myself isn’t going to get me anywhere” in a form that’s going to sound coherent and not like a crazy ramble that ends in you running away. So he doesn’t say it at all.
“Spencer,” You reach out to hold his hand. “You can tell me.”
“I…” He feels like he’ll stumble over his words before he gets a sentence out. He looks at you, and your grip tightens a little. He returns the gesture. “I don’t want to mess this up.”
“Mess what up exactly?”
“Well, this.” He moves his hand where his thumb is on top. “I like you a lot.”
“Oh, well, I like you too!” You say. “We’re on the same page there. So how could you mess this up?”
“Because I don’t know how to make the first move. I don’t want to push you.” The wind blows, and both of you push hair out of your faces, and Spencer tries not to lose his thoughts. “I even let one of my coworkers give me pointers on how to be… smoother.”
You try hard not to laugh, but it slips out, and the insecurity on Spencer’s face spreads. “Is this the one you told me about? Dirk Morgan?”
“Derek Morgan. But, yeah, him.”
“Okay, Doctor,” You step closer, and now both your hands lead up to his biceps. Spencer cautiously moves his hands to your waist. He’s hesitant about public displays of affection, but you started it, and he won’t be the one to end it so soon.  “I’m going to bring you into my field for a minute. I’m assigning you a pop quiz.”
Spencer’s mouth quirks a little, wondering where this is going.
“I have no doubt you’ll ace it.”
“I’m usually good at acing things. Exams, tests, quizzes.”
“Good. It’s one question: am I dating Derek Morgan?” Your thumbs glided back and forth against his cardigan.
“Are we dating?”
“We’ve been on dates. Therefore: dating.”
“Then, no, you are not dating Derek Morgan.”
“Congratulations, Dr. Reid, you got a 100.” You push yourself up on your toes to kiss him gently. You both pause for a moment. His hands trail to your back as yours glide to hang on his neck. His breath is extra minty for six in the evening, and it made you realize that was the move he wanted to make. “Feel better? Now that that’s out of the way?”
Spencer leans in to kiss you again. His response is clear when he pulls you in to make it deeper, but still innocent. When you open your eyes, you can see the weight that’s been lifted, a weight you lifted.
“Next time you feel like making a move, you’re more than welcome to go for it. Okay? You have my permission to go for it.”
“What if I don’t know your boundaries?”
“Just ask.” You put your feet flat on the ground, but other than that, neither of you moves or shifts eye contact. “Spencer, I like you the way you are. You don’t need some sort of smooth rhetoric to make me fall further for you.”
Spencer, once again, fails to hide the smirk as it grows. “You’ve… fallen for me?”
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah.” He says quickly. “It’s more than okay.”
Thank you for all the love from the last fic. I'm glad so many of you liked it 🥹 For anyone curious, I don't have a schedule. I just write and upload when I have something. I'm focusing on getting back into writing so feel free to send oneshot ideas if you have any. Thanks again 🩵
“Good. Now let’s get ice cream.”
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yongislong · 2 years
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skin ship + dreamies.
wc/genre: idk, pretty short though, fluff, suggestive.... lmao established relationships with nonidol!dreamies! reqs openn
cw/note: none! late night post, not requested but i had this idea while studying bc... shit has been going on in my life and i! need! comfort! lmk what you think, masterlist is on my page, take care of urselves, i am in no way saying love can cure mental illness in any of my posts btw! i thought i'd just clarify lol
mark... he's so touchy with you and he's such a nerd about it LOL, he loves you and freaks out. like yes he's confident don't get me wrong but once he sees you and realizes that he has you, he pounces. he hugs you so hard people might think you'd disappear. it's always so full of love and he has a geeky smile and you can hear his breathy giggles in your ear. also likes pulling your toes when you're on your bed scrolling in PEACE. he does it so hard and you never fail to fly off wherever you're sitting to chase him across the apartment. cheek pincher on the low. honestly loves any skin ship under the sun. especially on any exposed skin, smooches <3 shoulder kiss enthusiast and he's very good at it :') likes catching you off guard with any skin ship. pulls you tight whenever you sleep
renjun... hand tracing dear god. he loves your hands, no matter what they look like. YES i know its cliche but he loves messing with your rings, painting your nails, etc. he thinks he's being so slick and cool but he's so cute about it because he also doesn't care, like he has no reason to not show you how beautiful he believes every part of you is. sometimes he doesn't even notice, he just takes ahold of your wrists or forearm and drapes it on his lap. maybe he likes to put his fingers in ur mouth I DON'T KNOW??? esp when you wave ur finger in his face... not super touchy when cuddling but you always end up with his hand in yours. sometimes switches rings with you and doesn't notice until he's taking off his jewelry to go to bed and he's giggling into his hand like an 8 year old lol. likes pinching the skin on your upper back and thighs. finds comfort in tracing his fingertips on your collarbones before bed, helps you both fall asleep fast
jeno... god he's such a hip guy. loves a cheeky lil slap on the butt at any time of the day OFC but also just likes having his hands on your hips, likes to feel ur hipbones/curves y'know. you're so beautiful to him. he always pretends to get the wind knocked out of him when he sees u... hes so cheesy. sometimes when you're watching a movie he sits you between his legs and innocently snakes one finger under your clothes to feel the skin on the expanse on your upper hip and stomach. he loooves stomachs. especially if they're soft or not defined like those old greek paintings, he likes how different you feel from him if that makes sense.... bc he's lean. unless you're lean too he kinda gets fomo like damn did you hit the gym without him lol. also a cheek pincher, just likes messing with your face in general. cute sleeper, tucks you under his chin, ends up with his head under your shirt bc he gets cold at night and is always so surprised when he wakes up pfft. also an upper arm rubber. pls trace your finger on his nose brige.
haechan... mf. any skin ship have you seen this man. i will say the skin ship he has with you and the way he goes about it is different because he wants to make it a point that yes, he's touchy but only you get certain privileges or touches. especially when you two are alone. he likes to look at you while you sleep, not in a weird way he just likes that this is the one time you let him play with your hair and kiss your fingertips without you bursting into shy giggles. a lot of people think he would be a goofy bf and yeah that's true but he wants to so badly do well in this relationship. he cares about you so much. some nights when he looks at you he's thinks he just might cry. gives you lots of typical skin ship but also just is super domestic and sweet and considerate of your feelings. LOOVES, loves and i mean adores hiding his face in the crook of your neck, likes your natural scent sm, makes him smiley.
jaemin... like haechan he likes to watch you when you sleep but in the morning instead, when he wakes up before you. likes whispering things to you about how gorgeous he thinks you are and how can someone look so pretty when they've been tossing and turning all night. smiles to himself always. pokes your cheeks especially when you're puffy and sleepy. his favorite type of skin ship is pulling your cheek. he also likes brushing up your brows and running his thumb on your lower lip. gosh he's just so so sweet. he's obsessed with you in the best way. likes being around you. hand on the waist when he's trying to maneuver himself behind you to reach for his toothbrush in the bathroom > AGH. has no limits to how touchy he is in his mind. like if you are equally as touchy or just enjoy skin ship and don't mind him giving you puppy dog eyes through the mirror as he brushes your hair, its an easy open for him to do what he wants with you. I KNOW this is kinda all over the place but just imagine someone being in absolute adoration of you, your body, your skin, your face in a non creepy way LOL etc, etc. very wholesome
chenle... waist holder. oh MY god. he's not really touchy, in my opinion and from what i've seen, but he is a clinger. he likes skin ship mostly and only if he gets to initiate it. makes him feel manly muahaha. dont get me wrong, adores you doing slight skin ship with him but when he gets to tuck you under him at night or is able to trace the underside of your jaw. OH MY GOD he loves putting his finger under your chin to lift your face to look up at him please??? is so cocky about this and even if you're taller or his height, he loves to catch you when you're sitting down and it never fails to make you lose your mind. yeah yeah he likes it when you touch his neck, he's corny like that. laying your hand on his chest when you kiss GOD??? he combusts every time. it's moments like these where he doesn't mind you initiating touches bc it makes him feel special and wanted. please give him attention when you've seen he's had a hard day. he never knows how to ask for you, but now you've gotten into the swing of being around each other and learning what each other likes when it comes to skin to skin contact.
jisung... another fucking cheek poker dude. can never grasp the fact that yeah, you're sitting next to him, willingly watching his favorite movie with him, sharing a blanket, with the fresh cookies you made. wants to make sure you're real so he pokes you. he doesn't think he doesn't deserve you he just, is so proud of himself for bagging you and needs to make sure he isn't lucid dreaming LOL. ya'll need to wake up, yeah jisung has probably never had a relationship up until you but oh... oh once he learns how to fluster you, its like he hit the jackpot. knows how much you like him kissing the top of your spine before bed and you learned that tugging on the hairs and the nape of his neck has earned you several reactions in the past. its a very sweet and intimate relationship, watching the both of you test the waters with shy pecks or head pats until you finally date for long enough that he fully feels confident falling asleep on your chest with his arms caging around your waist. likes pretty basic skin ship, he't not a poet or anything yknow LMAO so expect a lot of neck pecks, head pats, hugs where he shifts his weight in between his feet and rocks you back and forth, he's just a sweetie
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juuuulez · 4 months
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showing them your party dress, and they judge you (thinking it’s slutty or they get jealous) and won’t come to the deannas party with you. you get drunk and they help u 😝😝😝 (comfort angst)
info: Rick Grimes x Reader, NSFW, sorta drunk sex, Spencer is a creep, unsafe sex/pulling out, p in v.
summary: After pissing you off over a comment about your outfit, Rick tries to prove your worth another way.
omg idk when this escalated into smut but it did, but thanks for the request!!! thought i’d show rick some love because he’s soooo dilf and there isn’t enough rick appreciation on this page
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You wrap your hair around the curling iron, clamping down the hot metal and holding it in place. Tonight, Deanna is having a party for the new residents, and you’d been practically buzzing with excitement all day. Not only was Alexandria a miracle to come across, but they treated life with some semblance of normality.
“That the dress you’re wearin’?” A voice behind you asks, your gaze fluttering up to watch Rick through the mirror. He’s standing behind you, eyes scanning the dress you’d put on.
It was black, form-fitting and short. Paired with some kitten heels, you looked good enough to eat. Except, you’d thought it would illicit a bit more… excitement from your boyfriend.
“Yeah,” You agree, “Rosita found it for me. Said I’d look good in it.”
As if to prove your point, you turn around, giving a little spin in an almost childish manner. Rick stands there, stone faced, not betraying a single emotion.
“You do,” He finally lets up, “But is this the impression we wanna give?”
A response doesn’t come right away, silence filling the space between you as the words stew in your mind. They sound strangely negative, causing your brows to furrow into a little frown.
“C’mon, baby. You know what I mean.” Rick tries again, having sensed that he’s said something wrong.
But you’ve already turned away, continuing to primp your hair in the mirror. “Are you coming tonight?” You ask, completely avoiding his previous misstep for the sake of not becoming upset before the party.
“No, not tonight,” Rick sighs, “Got some shit to sort out.”
This one doesn’t get a reply either, and Rick knows that you aren’t pleased. So far, your relationship has been anything but normal. Back at the prison, he’d kept you at an arms length, finding your alluring nature and sweet smile threatening to his morals. Yet, over time, he’d let you in, and you’d wormed your way into his life.
“You could stay home, too. Wait for me. We’ll watch a movie when I get home.” He ends up suggesting, trying to alleviate your souring mood.
It’s fruitless, for you’re still persisting. “No. I want to party, like every other person in this town.”
“In that dress?” He questions once more.
You turn again, shooting the older man a glare. “Yes. Now leave, I’m getting ready, and you’re distracting me.” You essentially demand, and as not to get bitten, Rick obeys.
Part of you is pissed that he folded so easily, even though it was your bad temper. Regardless, you swore to have fun tonight, Rick or no Rick.
So, you finished doing your hair, even going so far as to put a little makeup on. It felt good, all of it, mainly because it just felt normal. You ventured from your house, trailing down the street to where the commotion was, eager to have a fun night out and remove Rick’s comment from your mind.
Though you claimed to be over it, your actions were saying otherwise.
Alcohol wasn’t commonplace during the apocalypse, at least not for your group. It wasn’t a necessity, and would only worsen the burden of surviving, having to recover from hangovers or be momentarily inebriated.
But tonight? You’d drink as much as you wanted to. Wine had never really been your favourite, but now, it was like liquid gold.
Maybe you were still annoyed at Rick, and you certainly were annoyed at Spencer, who kept talking to you at every possible opportunity. He didn’t like Rick, so in favour, you didn’t like him.
Everything turned into a blur at one point, and you would vaguely remember sitting down on the couch, nursing a cup of water in hand. Who gave you water? It didn’t really matter, for once more, Spencer had sat next to you.
He offered you another glass of wine, and stupidly, you took it.
“Ever get bored of playing with your old man?” He asked, lips upturned into a wicked grin, like the joke was supposed to be amusing. It wasn’t.
There’s a sickly feeling in your stomach, though it doesn’t stem from the alcohol, but guilt. “I need some air.” You end up mumbling, uncoordinatedly stumbling from the couch.
Spencer follows a few steps behind you, his hand on your arm with the feinted intention of helping.
“Without you!” You clarify in a drunken yell, messily yanking both heels from your feet, leaving them in the hallway while you make a break for the door.
Fortunately, Spencer gets the message.
Not that it mattered, for there was another face you didn’t want to see, waiting right outside.
Rick looked so good in the little police uniform they’d given him, with his clean shaven face and trimmed hair. It was a completely different man from the one you’d known, but delicious nonetheless.
“I don’t need your help, asshole.” You snap whilst faltering down the steps, barefoot on the pavement. Right now, he didn’t deserve the satisfaction of helping you, or knowing how good he looked.
“Yes you do, c’mon.” Rick persists, and when he moves to take your arm, you don’t protest. Maybe you are a little far gone. He gently leads you along, one hand wrapped around your shoulder, the other carefully tugging the bottom of your dress down a little more.
It’s a short walk back home, to the little picket-fenced house you’ve been living in. The instance you’re inside, you collapse on the couch, melting into the fabric and willing to pass out right then and there.
Rick kneels down on the ground, leaning in and removing your jewellery. Necklace, earrings, bracelet. Once they’re all set aside, he sits on the couch, the movement causing you to rise with a little frown.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He asks, large hands scooping under your thighs and manoeuvring your body into his lap.
When you only look down, he grips at your chin, forcing the eye contact. The frown deepens, though now out of defiance, still drunk and a little pissed off.
“We’ve spent so long bein’ dirty ‘n muddy ‘n gross..” You begin in a mumble, the words coming out as one long sigh. “I just wanted to feel sexy.”
“You are so sexy,” Rick urges, hand caressing your side. “Always.”
“Then you should’ve come to the party with me.” You retort, that sad look still on your face, and it takes everything in Rick not to kiss it off.
“I know, I know. I should’ve been there,” He agrees, “And I should’ve told you how damn good this dress looks on you.”
Your nose scrunches up in confusion, “I thought you didn’t like it.”
Rick finally releases his grip on your chin, skating both hands down the smooth curve of your sides, all nicely contained in that skimpy dress. It’s like a perfect package, one he wants to unwrap.
“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, baby. I love it,” He reveals, eyes locked onto yours, “But I wanna be the only one who can love it.”
A grin finally grows on your lips, still all pink and glossy from the makeup. Even in your drunken state, there’s something alluring about the way you lean closer, breath fanning over Rick’s lips.
“Then prove it.” You whisper.
Like a moth to a flame, Rick bites. He closes the gap, savouring your sloppy kisses as you devour his lips, hands fumbling to cup either side of his smooth face. Somehow, kissing him felt even better drunk, like everything else just melted away.
Disconnecting, Rick trailed purposeful kisses down your neck, sucking brief marks into your skin, staking his claim. He peeled the straps of the dress down, pushing the fabric down under the swell of your breasts, until they were completely bare to him.
You gasped as his lips trapped a nipple, fondling at the supple flesh whilst worshipping you with his mouth. But you were already strung tight, not having the patience to deal with a night of teasing.
Fingers hooked into his belt, painted nails scratching at the denim as you failed to muster enough coordination to unzip him. “Please.. please, Rick.” You whined.
“I know, baby. Don’t have’ta beg tonight.” He assures you in that rough, yet soothing tone, taking over and pulling his cock free of its restraints.
Rick pushes the dress up over your hips, the soft fabric now simply a band around your waist. You’re eager to take him, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders whilst you hover over his thighs, allowing Rick to line you up and make the slide easier.
The drunken haze has faded some, replaced by a blanket of arousal as you slowly ride him, fingers gripping at his shirt. You’re saying something, begging probably, but it doesn’t make any sense. Not that it matters.
Though you’re set on riding him, Rick knows you’re probably sore from those heels all night, so he grips tight at your hips to flip you over, drilling you down into the plush couch.
“Fuck..” You gasp, head lolling to the side as Rick bites into the flesh of your neck, body completely surrounding you as his thrusts become powerful and short, angled up right where you need it.
“I know, baby. You can take it.” He grunts, using all his strength to draw you closer to the edge.
By now, he knows your tells. The tightening of your cunt as it squeezes him, the way your legs wrap around his slim waist. Whatever words make it from your mouth, though unintelligible, take on a whiny pitch.
Rick snakes his hand between you, pressing firm, tight circles around your clit that make you gasp and squirm under him. “Quietly, baby. You can do it. Let go for me.”
And that you do, hips bucking upwards as your peak finally hits, muffling your cries into his shoulder. The pulsating around his dick causes Rick to finally falter, managing a few more staggered, sharp thrusts before roughly pulling out and spilling onto your stomach. Spurts of white cum coat the bunched up dress, some even reaching the underside of your tits.
“Fuck,” Rick pants, catching his breath. “Looks like you can’t wear this dress anyway.”
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heeseung-min · 2 months
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hii your writing is so good. hehehe do you mind if I request like. y/n had an amnesia and found out everything. that his husband wasn’t actually his real husband. (you can choose between enha member hehe)
[13:05]
"Good morning, sweetheart."
You smiled and felt your husband was hugging your body from behind. You were cooking fried rice kimchi as meal for breakfast. Usually Jay would be doing all of that since he always in charge of preparing the foods but you wanted to do it today. You let Jay snuggled and left some kisses on your shoulders before finally turn off the stove and serve the rice.
"I will be late today. Need to finish some assignments. Don't wait for me, okay?"
"Okay. I just left some dinner for you later."
"Sure. What are you planning to do today?"
"Uhm, I don't know. Maybe just watch some movies and cleaning the house."
Both of you continue talking while enjoying the breakfast. It's like a routine that you guys would do before Jay will go to work. After you and him shared goodbye kisses, you started to do the chores from doing the laundry until cleaning every rooms.
When you reached Jay' small office, you were a bit curious why this whole time he didn't let you to clean the room but today he gave you permission when you asked him. You didn't think too much and just open the door and looked around the room. It was a little bit dusty and messy with bunch of papers from his work. Maybe that's why he didn't let you clean the room.
You separated the papers from important to unimportant documents and discarded the unimportant one and sweep the dust on the table and the book shelves. You opened the window to ventilate the room and sat on his chair to rest yourself for few minutes. Your eyes caught the photo album that was on the table and slide off the pages watching pictures of you and Jay going to some places. Until you reached the last page where it was unfamiliar photo that you never see before but it has you in it. You were standing with a man but the face has been crossed with red pen made it difficult to detect the person.
"Why I never know about this picture?"
You decided to keep the picture and ask Jay when he's back from work. You continue to clean the room until you stumbled to a box and made it the things inside it fell to the floor.
"Ah shit. Erghh, I just clean it."
You quickly took all the papers and documents and put it back inside the box but your attention suddenly attracted to the specific paper that contains your own picture.
MISSING!!! IF YOU FOUND HER PLEASE CALL US!!!
You read the detail on the paper. This was three years ago before you married Jay. What was happening actually? You didn't have any clue about it. You started rummaging the boxes to find more clue and dumbfounded when you saw a marriage picture of you and someone else but not Jay. You suspected this was the same guy that you saw on the picture that has been crossed on his face.
Is the guy your real husband?
What about Jay?
"What are you doing there, sweetheart?"
You startled at the voice. He shouldn't be back at this time. Your hands started to shake when the nervous feeling hit you. Jay walked closer when you didn't respond to him. You felt scared when you finally connected the dots.
"Let's go out, sweetheart. My shift done early today."
"Who are you?"
Jay tilted his head and staring confusedly at you. He thought you were joking so he wanted to pull you closer to hug you but you stepped back instead.
"What are you playing right now, baby?"
"Answer me! Why I found my wedding picture with someone else?! What did you do to me three years ago??!!!"
Jay sighed and rolled his eyes. He cursed to himself for not throwing the box out.
"You aren't supposed to know about that, y/n."
"...what?"
You didn't have enough time to react when you felt Jay hit your head from the side and made your head collided harshly to the table. The last thing you saw was Jay's face and you felt he was gently carressing your hair.
"I did this for you."
__________________
__________________
When you woke up, you were at the hospital with Jay sleeping beside you while holding your hand. He jolted when he felt you were moving.
"Baby, are you okay?"
He asked as he caressed your hair and let you leaned closer. You didn't remember anything that caused you to be in here and you felt hurt when you tried it so you just shake your head.
"I'm good but how can I be at here?"
"The doctor said you fainted due to the stress. I'm sorry for not taking care of you."
"No no no you are doing good enough already."
Jay smiled when you hugged his body. He adjusted his body so both of you can fit on the bed. He pat your back until you finally sleep again on his arms.
And the cycle will repeat again.
You will live as the wife of Jay.
And this time Jay will burn every single thing that related to your past.
Man that was hard😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😦 yall better enjoy it or i will haunt you guys down
Taglist: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @obsessed1with1straykids @huggyuvita @rowretro @eeunoia @soireegurl
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somnambulic-thing · 2 months
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Watershed Moments || part I
Masterlist Part II || ao3
Eddie Munson x Reader || E 18+ [demi!Eddie x 'tomboy'/gender-nonconforming!bi!reader]
childhood best friends to lovers, no Upside Down, canon divergent
Words: 3.8k
Series Summary: Watershed Moment is a term most people use for big events. Such events that mark historical turning points of great significance and shape the course of humanity; events that cause the printing presses of the world to run hot and make it from the front pages of newspapers into history books for the following generations to study. Opening the passenger door of Eddie’s van on a rainy Friday evening is exactly that. You're in love with your best friend. How many of those pivotal moments have there been in the past decade that have led you to this point? And what happens now?
Themes/Warnings for this chapter | pls check Masterlist for general tags: ||fluff, pining, angst, hurt/comfort, implied/non-graphic domestic abuse, child abuse: physical and mental, child neglect, dysfunctional family dynamics||
large parts of the fic will take place in the characters teenage years
A/N: I wrote this almost a year ago then got very precious about it and stopped in fear of fucking it up. I've decided to release it into the world before the layer of dust gets so thick that I can't find my way back to it anymore. Around half of it is already written in various states. This is a queer story at heart, even though you might not find it in explicit terms we'd use today to label and describe things.
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Friday the 8th of May 1987
The music announces his arrival.
It always does.
It’s the reason you leave your window ajar whenever you’re expecting him; no matter the time of day, no matter the weather.
The faint notes of shrieking guitars slowly turn into recognizable music as you slip on your shoes and look for your keys. Going by his choice of song, he must be in a good mood and so you descend down the stairs in a hurry to meet him.
He’s picking you up to go see a movie like he had done countless times before.
You hook your fingers under the door handle, the metal smooth from years of doing so, and pull, rousing the familiar creeeeek of the hinges, expecting to get into the car with the boy who had been your best friend for over a decade, and suddenly find yourself staring into the face of the man you love.
Just like that.
There is a dip in the cushion of the passenger seat, perfectly molded to your ass and right there, he had placed a gift for you.
“Surprise,” he says with a smile that melts the sidewalk under your feet, gesturing at the book that’s waiting for you but there is nothing on this planet, or any other, that could bring you to pull your eyes away from his at this very moment.
You see him almost every day, had seen him not quite twenty-four hours ago, had talked to him on the phone this morning and it had been the same as always; he was Eddie.
 Your Eddie.
And as you hold on to the door, waiting for the world to stop spinning so violently that you fear it could launch you into outa space, you realize that nothing about that had changed and still nothing was the same.
Just like that.
Eddie tilts his head, one hand still gripping the steering wheel, the other waving.
“Squash calling pumpkin, do you copy?” Eddie says in a deep, silly voice and the sweet sound of your childhood nicknames brings your realization full circle.
You are in love with your best friend.
“A-affirmative…”
“Ah, there you are. Will you get in here now? You’re getting wet.”
Oh, if you only knew.
Heat rises to your cheeks as you climb into your seat, carefully taking the book into your hands like it held the secrets to the universe between its covers. You yank the passenger door close absentmindedly, the slam echoing as loud in your ears as your own heartbeat and you wait for Eddie to complain about it but he doesn’t. Instead, you can sense him looking at you while you stare at the book in your lap.
And that really had been it, right?
What had made the truth about your feelings for Eddie hit you like a load of bricks; it was in the way he looked at you. In his giddy excitement to make you happy, his confidence that he absolutely would because he knew you so well and in the fact that you would look at him the same way if your roles were reversed.
That you do it all the time.
And just like that, it scares the shit out of you.
“H-how…” you start, but fail to find the right question. Your voice sounds brittle to your ears.
But Eddie chuckles, moves in closer and puts his chin on your shoulder, just like he always does. As if his silly little gesture hadn’t just changed both of your lives fundamentally and irrevocably.
“You mean,” he clears his throat and puts on an impersonation of your voice that’s infuriatingly remarkable. “Oh, Eddie, my precious Eddie, how did you get your brilliant and highly skilled hands on the new Stephen King novel that came out just two days ago?” His breath against your neck is warm and you just know that he’s pursing his lips in a silly grin.
“Yeah, that,” you swallow and then you give him what he’s after. A smile. Because no matter how flustered you are, you just can’t help it. “And I don’t sound like that.”
“Oohhh yes, you do,” he croons and the bass in his words vibrates through your bones where it’s already part of your marrow. You want to turn your head and kiss him. “It’s adorable,” he says and sits up, leaning back into his seat.
You huff out a laugh. “Do you compliment yourself in my voice a lot when I’m not around?”
“Something has to get me through the dreadful hours of the day where I have no access to your praise.”
It’s casual when he says things like that, and while Eddie starts the car and pulls into the street, you try to remember if it ever made you feel like combusting before.
Of course it had. All the time.
“Rick had some business in Indianapolis and I asked him to get me a copy,” Eddie explains into the silence, glancing over at you. “Seatbelt, pumpkin.”
“You… you didn’t have to do this…” you say instead of Thank you, Squashboy! instead of You’re the fucking best, Munson! instead of any of those soft things you would have thrown at him without hesitation just ten minutes ago and put on your seatbelt as he ordered, hoping he wouldn’t smell your confusion like the emotional bloodhound he was around you.
But Eddie laughs. “And listen to you whine about it until Hawkins’ dusty ol’ bookstore catches up with the modern world? Yeah, fat chance.”
“It would just have been a few weeks… tops…”
“A few weeks too many of seeing you mope. I’m not strong enough for that shit.”
You open the book on the first page to occupy your hands, which are begging to be buried in Eddie's hair, with something safe but, oh, the endeavor fails horribly because, of course, he left you a note inside and you should have expected it. Your fingertips trace over the familiar flow of Eddie’s handwriting with an infinite tenderness that’s meant for his cheeks.
for my little monster, can't wait for you to read this to me.      - your doctor               E.
“If you want to,” he adds softly.
I want to whisper every word of it into your mouth.
“This is the second book of the series, remember?… You wouldn’t understand a thing.”
“Incorrect,” he says solemnly, stops the car at a red light and almost jumps into your face with an open, all-teeth smile. “Surprise!”
“You… you read the first book?”
“Correct!” he bites his lip, excitement tugging at his cheeks. He’s so close. You could just lean in to taste him and for a moment you think that maybe he’s waiting for you to do so as he hovers there, big brown eyes roaming your face until a cacophony of horns pulls him away from you. “Fuckers,” he mumbles as he starts the car again and picks up the conversation where he’d left it: “And lo and behold: I liked it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I know, I know… I’ve given you speeches about why King doesn’t do it for me and all but you kept gushing about this Gunslinger book and how different it is and…” Eddie shrugged, “I thought I should give it a chance aaand it turned out you were right about it.”
You’re everything.
How did I miss this?
And what does it mean that I did?
“Hey, uh, are you alright?” he throws several quick glances at you, brows drawn together; all the joy, all the mirth gone.
Just like that.
Don’t you fucking hurt him!
“Why?”
“Why?” Now it’s a full-on frown. “Well, you’re… quiet. Which, you know, is totally fine with me generally, but I just told you, uh, that I read your favorite book and liked it after being a grump about it for months and—”
“Eddie?” A sigh.
“Y-yeah?”
“Wanna skip the movie, go to your place and start this?” you say softly, holding up the book. “Maybe get some snacks on our way?”
No hesitation.
“Hold on!” he cheered and you know that voice and that frantic look over his shoulder and—
“Oh no!” you huff as you scramble to clutch at something. “No nono no…”
 —then the U-Turn thumps you against the door while Eddie laughs like he’s fueled on pure adrenaline.
“Fucking hell, Munson, slow down,” you shout over the wild cackling and he does. “If you kill us before I finished that series I’ll whip your ass!”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,” he says with a grin and your pulse speeds up; eight little words and your rabbit heart races faster than from the prospect of possible death caused by Eddie’s poor impulse control. You watch him in awe as he forces himself to calm down, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, head bopping to their rhythm. “That was fun.”
“Yeah,” you try to sound distraught. “Such fun that you’re taking years off my life every time you do shit like that, you maniac!”
“But I’m giving them back to you by making you laugh. So it doesn’t count.”
***
1976
It was the October of your eleventh Halloween when the Munsons moved into the ground-floor apartment.
You just bought the first pumpkin of the season and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the day drafting out a spooky design to carve into the tough orange flesh.
Impatient to start, you burst through the door and were halfway up the first landing when you saw the skinny lanky boy fumble with a box that looked way too heavy for his frame if the strain of the muscles in his arms was anything to go by.
Spinning around, his eyes were wide and alert, maybe even afraid, before he saw you on the stairs, relaxed a little and turned away to get on with opening the door.
“Here, I’ll help you,” you said, placed your pumpkin on the floor and rushed to his side.
“N-no, t’s alright, I'm… I got it—“ His words were swallowed by a loud thump as the boy swayed, barely saving the box from tumbling to the ground by wedging it between the door and his skinny chest.
“Don’t looks like it,” you quipped, ready to snatch his key to assist when—
“What the fuck are you banging against that door?“
— the door disappeared in a blur and a big angry man appeared in its place. The boy barely caught his balance before the box could slip again.
“Sorry Dad, sorry I didn’t—“
“Inside, Eddie!”
Eddie’s head whipped around to you, face scrunched in worry, his skin had turned a pale grey and you were sure to see the faint yellow remnants of a bruise high up on his cheek.
“Eddie!” he snarled and without another word Eddie pushed past his father, his backlit silhouette vanishing through a door on the left in a small hallway.
“Who are you?” the man almost barked at you.
Refusing to sound afraid, you introduced yourself. “My family lives on the second floor - welcome to the neighborhood, Mister…?”
“Munson,” he said briskly, but less angry and held out a large sweaty hand for you to shake. You did with reluctance. “Polite of you to swing by and say hello but we’re busy here, so if you don’t mind.” And with that, he closed the door.
You didn’t mind. You didn’t mind one bit.
Well…
“Oh,” your mother said when you told her everything, still heaving from running up the stairs like you were on fire. “But the boy probably just fell off his bike. You know how boys are, honey, don’t you?”
Suddenly, there was an itch in your own scraped knees; somewhat of a guilty sensation that added confusion to the upset.
„I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,“ she added with a thin smile.
And you wanted to believe her, wanted to believe her so badly but your mother hadn’t seen the look in the boy’s - Eddie’s - eyes when you startled him.
--
Those same eyes were faintly red and a little puffy when you answered the knock at the door half an hour later.
“Hi,” Eddie said in a jolly tone that only increased your confusion. “You forgot your pumpkin.”
“Oh shit!” You hugged the pumpkin to your chest like you were reunited with a friend and glimpsed a first faint preview of that blinding smile you would eventually come to love so much on Eddie’s face. “Thank you, Eddie.”
“How do you know my name?”
“Your, uhm, father called you that.”
“Right,” he swallowed, smile snuffing out like a candle. “Right.”
There was a silence filled with a thousand questions your mother would deem inappropriate to ask a stranger so you settled for an apology.
“Sorry, if I got you in trouble.”
“What?” Eddie drew his head back, frowning. “No, no. You didn’t, no trouble at all. Dad ’s just— you know, stressed with the moving.”
“Oka—“
“Have to get going now,” he laughed hollowly and backed away, “so much left to do.”
“See you around, Eddie,” you could only call after him as he hurried down the stairs, his reply echoing back up to you.
“See you around, pumpkin.”
But you didn’t see Eddie around much. Not at home and not at school either. He was a year above your grade - you figured that out soon enough - but it almost seemed like he was skipping about half the week on a regular basis. The few times you met him sneaking through the house like a shy cat, he was covered in grease or paint, carrying himself like a man who came home at the end of a fifty-hour workweek. He never talked much, never asked for your name, always called you Pumpkin.
You, however, saw a lot of Mr Munson; going in and out the building several times a day, often in the company of equally grim-looking men, sometimes with a woman with big brown eyes which gave her away as Eddie’s mother even before she introduced herself to you. She had wonderful long brown hair and you asked yourself if Eddie’s buzzed scalp would sprout in this deep wavy brown or his father’s dirty blond if he was to let it grow out.
You also heard Mr Munson. A lot. Especially at night, and a few weeks in, your parents started to doubt that Eddie and his mother were simply on the clumsy side.
--
Halloween finally arrived and you proudly placed your final piece of fine pumpkin craftsmanship out the front door, waiting for your father to come down to light the candles like you did every year.
“Hey, Wednesday.”
You turned towards the open door and Eddie slowly peeled out of the shadows of the hallway, hands behind his back and a careful smile on his face. His voice was soft and timid. The next time you would hear him talk, it had already started to break.
“Eddie,” you smiled and tilted your head. “You watch the Addams Family?”
“Duh,” he said and fully stepped into the beam of light falling into the hallway. “Looks, uh, nice… the costume, I mean… self-made?”
“Yeah, my mother helped me make it. What are you going as?”
One hand left his back as he bowed his head and scratched his scalp. “M’ not… allowed to. Dad thinks it’s… a waste of time… and silly.”
“Shit,” you mumbled, an awkward silence fell between you. “Uhm, what would you choose? If you were allowed?”
“Huh?” his face lit up slightly as he entertained the thought. “Frodo, I think.”
“Who’s that?”
“Who’s… who’s Frodo?” The disbelieve in his eyes was comical, almost theatric. “That part of your Wednesday act? Making cruel jokes and shit?”
“What are you talking about?” you chuckled and raised your hands to the sky in an equal amount of theatrics.
“The Lord of The Rings? Never heard of that?”
“Oh, yeah, but never read it or anything... my mom thinks it’s not appropriate… for a girl.”
“Shit,” he huffed. “And I thought my life was sad…” And what was meant as a joke, darkened his face like an eclipse, pulled his gaze away from you and into the distance before he shook his head to chase it away. “I, uhm, was wondering… I made a thing? For, uh… you know?” he pointed his chin at the decorations lined up beside the doorstep.
“Oh!” you called out in excitement. “That’s what you‘re keeping behind your back?”
“Uh, yeah…” he pinched his eyes shut. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“No,” you said and Eddie cracked open one terrified eye. “If it’s funny, I’ll laugh! You’ll just have to join me…”
“Uhm, uuh…”
“Let’s seeeee!”
“Okay, okay, Jesus…” Eddie took a deep breath and revealed his work with slightly trembling hands you chose to ignore for his sake. It was a butternut squash and Eddie had carved a swarm of bats into the surface.
“Oh!” you said again but this time in awe.
“I know it’s not… good or anything, not like yours and I think I got the wrong kind of, uh, pumpkin because, like… you can’t get a candle in there— stupid thing ‘s like solid fucking concrete and I get it when you don’t want it out here—“
“Are you insane? This is so good!” you stopped him and snatched the squash from his hands.
“Wait, really?”
“Uh-hn,” you turned it around to take in every little last bat. “Must have taken you forever… butternut squash really is tough!”
“That’s what it’s called?” he said, rubbing the back of his head, a deep blush tinting his whole face bright red. “Had no idea…”
You stepped to the side, already busy figuring out how to rearrange the display to integrate the squash. “We just pick one out together next year… if you want. I can show you the right ones.”
“Nah, don’t want to bother you… it’s fine.”
Hunkering on the ground, your white thighs forgotten, you paused and looked up at Eddie in genuine confusion. “Why would you bother me?”
“I… don’t… dunno…”
The squash was in the perfect place and you stood up, dusted off your hands on the back of your black skirt and put a careful hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s cool, Squashboy, really.”
“I…” Eddie’s face went through a plethora of emotions in seconds but he settled on a silly grin. “Did you just call me, Squashboy?”
“Would you prefer your Squashness? Or… uhmm… Lord of the Squash?— t’s a bit of a mouth full but if you insist…”
“Shut up,” Eddie threw his head back and laughed; it was loud and wild and echoed through the staircase. “That’s sooo stupid.”
There were footsteps coming from inside as someone was descending the stairs and next to you, Eddie turned into cold hard stone.
“T’s probably just my dad,” you tried to comfort him, sure you knew what this meant by now. “He’s coming to light the candles.”
The steps grew louder and Eddie’s skin was this awful shade of grey again.
“Eddie? Are you o—“
“I have to go,” he gritted out through his teeth, turned and hurried down the street in jerky steps.
“Hey honey,” your father said, appearing in the doorframe but you were still looking after the skinny boy in the too-big clothes rushing down the street, a thick knot in your chest. “Is that the Munson boy?” your father’s voice was casual, but not casual enough.
You looked up into a frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Hm?… Oh, nothing. Just got lost in thought for a second.” He finally looked down at you again, clapping his hands together. “I’m here to light some candles.”
What usually was one of your favorite rituals on Halloween was clouded by that awful shadow that kept creeping over Eddie’s face again and again. You decided to share your loot of candy with him when you came back; it wasn’t much but it was something. You’d just have to wait until Mr M was out of the house or whatever, but you could think about that later.
But when you came back home, Eddie was gone.
Nobody was telling you anything but after one week of lurking around adults when they didn’t pay attention gave you enough to piece it together.
There had been a fight. A bad fight and your father finally called the police. It took two deputies to get Mr Munson out of the house and into the back of a police car. Deputy Hopper gave him a good kick in the back of his knee to help him the rest of the way. Nobody on the block had seen that occur though, should anybody come around to ask. When the dust had settled down a little, Mrs Munson was nowhere to be found, so Deputy Hopper came back to collect Eddie.
The Munson’s rent had been paid for all through the next week and in the middle of that week, you saw a tall man whose features reminded you of Mr Munson carrying a big box out of the front door of your building. He crammed it into the back of a car already filled with other stuff and drove away before you could take a look at the front to see if Eddie was on board.
A few days later, men in blue overalls came to clear the rest of the ground-floor apartment. You lingered on the first-floor landing, observing a family’s life getting ripped out of this house like a rotten tooth from a jaw. When the blue men went outside for a smoke, you slipped inside. There wasn’t much left of what made a home a home; a potted plant, some kitchenware and— a breeze moved the curtains in the main room ever so slightly but enough for you to spot a little figurine hidden in the far corner of the windowsill. A small man with a knobbly nose and dirty feet.
You took it home with you.
And when one day you saw the tall man who looked a little like Mr. Munson from your window, you almost jumped in front of his car to make sure Frodo finally made it back to Eddie. That was what the other Mr. Munson called the little guy.
“I can’t believe it,” Eddie’s uncle rasped, “been lookin’ for this guy all over town… thought the clean-up crew dropped it off at some thrift store or church with the other stuff or somethin’. Thought he was gone for good.”
“Tell Eddie I said hi,” you beamed. “And that I saved him some candy.”
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general taglist:
@bettyfrommars @dr-aculaaa @deathbecomesthem @songforeddiemunson @raccoonboywrites @jo-harrington @lunatictardis @skrzydlak @moonbeamsandmayhem @slutforstabbings @eddieslooneymoonie @chaoticgood-munson @storiesbyrhi @mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn @thecapricunt1616 @allthingsjoeq
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queenofallimagines · 3 months
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hi there!! may i ask some obey me hcs where mc is a professional volleyball player (like of they would watch her tems matchs, how they cheer and things like that) and has a personality like oikawa when she's not playing, but turn into a queen of the court (like kageyama 🕺) when playing? tysm!
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A/n: I’m literally so mad I didn’t see this b4 bc I’m watching the haikyuu movie sobbing over karasuno VS nekoma😫 but absolutely! Also I noticed how this got more nsfw closer to the end😭 couldn’t help it😔
Lucifer:
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- impressed
- He did think you had a nice body when he first saw you
- But then he hears your trying out for the RAD volleyball team?
- Poor human can’t stand on the same court against literal demons??
- Is what he thought
- He sees Beel ecstatic about your first game and he’s hyping you up sm
- Lucifer goes bc if you get heir he will step in to defend you
- Yk when hinata does his thing and the whole stadiums jaws drop?
- That’s WHAT HAPPENED HERE
- He sees you effortlessly setting to your teammates like you rly are running this show
- Made you captain at tryouts bc hell yeah!!
- They call you the demon Ruler of the court fr
- Imagine being so cocky and prideful and then getting home and being like all chill and regular chaotic
- He thinks your cheating real BAD
- He can’t play but he’s like nah okay against me you can use no spells
- Asmo is making cute merch to wear to your games
- Levi has already watched all your tapes form the human world he’s a expert and he’s never seen a volleyball before
- When you wipe the floor w him he’s like okay,,, maybe you are just that good
- That speed and serve is something dangerous
- When you get his pact he’s at EVERY game
- The way he can feel the pride running through you when you play, and the smirk on your face sends a chill up your spine when you look down on the other team
- He can and will have his hands all over you after a game
- Sorry like he’s euphoric the whole time it’s like edging almost
- Can’t deny how you look in your tight uniform is very appealing too
- Asmo too he can feel the lust for you in the room and he’s LOVING IT
- Brags whew he he gets the chance
Mammon:
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- yeah he’s placing bets
- He comes to see you at practice because he skipped class and he knows if he shows up at home without you he’s in trouble
- So he does to idle around
- Jaw literally drops when he sees you obliterate the other side of the court
- Feels greed burning in him and can’t tell if it’s him or you
- The drive to win radiating off of you in waves
- It’s overwhelming
- “When we’re us g’unna tell me you can do THAT?!”
- “You never asked.”
- Lucifer feels a chill when mammon asks you if he can place bets on you winning
- Shows up to every game
- WILL oversee merch sales
- Has a jersey of yours he wears to sleep
- Runs the Stan page w asmo
- Will make sure your gear is in tip-top shape
- Brings you snacks before and after practice
- You think it’s all financially motivated and like 70% is but he’s like so happy and proud of you
- Right w Beel cheering the loudest at your games
- Nobody can even say anything bad bc he will argue them DOWN
- Buys all your jerseys and then saves all the tickets to your games
- Will show up w flowers
- Also sneaks from class to your practices bc he is a SUCKER for that volleyball shorts and knee pad combo
- Watches your games on replay
- Seems like the type to jack off to your games too
- Biggest hype man and will give you a ‘reward’ if you play extra hard during a game
Levi:
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- he likes sports anime
- And probably will compete in a swimming event at some school festival bc duh
- But he hears Beel and mammon gushing over you play sports and is like okay well my Henry is so talented but whatever
- Almost died when you come home all sweaty and tired from practice like oop
- Suddenly binge watching every volleyball anime there IS
- Might as well be your coach
- Applies to be manager but like he’s one of the seven lord of hell lmao who’s gunna tell Levi no??
- Yall are kiyoko and Tanaka
- Very cute
- Also wearing merch w asmo they made
- Gets patches of your number to put on his everyday jacket
- Also wears your jersey to sleep
- ALSO ALSO a sucker for them volleyball fits
- Makes sure you’re always hydrated and the gym is the perfect temperature to play games in
- Guilty pleasure is that he really likes seeing you sweaty and panting
- Way how’s your games the way oikawa watches other teams to see how they play
- Actually good at making strategies and figuring out the letters in other teams
- Wants you to teach him to play
- Not bc he wants too but bc you’ll have to help adjust his posture and he can see you spike a lot
- Gets a thrill off of feeling the small bit of envy you feel when you see another good team or they manage to score on you
- Mayyyyyy encourage a little more envy bc you spike the ball even harder and you glare even more
- Yknow he has a thing for you to be mean
- So he’s like biting his lips hearing you trash talk the other team
- Also like mammon where he will have recordings of your games to jack off too
- “You pathetic worm know your place”
- He’s never moaned louder
Satan:
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- reads books on Volleyball
- Likes to be wellread and can impress you with terms
- Hears Beel be excited and sneaks off to see you practice
- Slides in slick compliments
- He’s cheeky to a fault
- “I have to ask, do you like volleyball for the adrenaline or is it for the cute outfit?”
- Tease him because he’s not even good at hiding that he’s looking
- “I don’t know. So you like coming to my games to watch me win or stare at my ass?”
- The cat was too stunned to speak
- Chose to come to your games because he was at home alone while everyone else was at your game
- And he was doing some ‘Self Care’
- And he got this lighting bolt of please up his spine
- Needless to say he made quite of a mess
- Hears everyone hyping you up when they come back
- “Remind me to never make ya mad okay MC?”
- “I would!~ the way they were glaring after they slammed the ball down made my heart flutter.”
- Had to go see what the fuss was for himself
- The grunts and yells are really making him hot under the collar
- Used your game tickets as bookmarks
- It makes him smile
- He’s such a tween girl in love he’ll like decorate them in his spare time like maybe press flowers and glue them on encasing it all in resin
- Heart eyes
- Giggles at your trash talk
- Loves seeing you fr have beef w people
- Setters for some reason always have beef during a game idk WHAT IT IS but like they all was glaring daggers
- He’s deeply interested in the setter beef
- “So what’s the story with you and that other setter👀 I could feel a little tension in the air.”
- My hc is that his pact mark is always on your dominant fist
- Bc like yknow punching
- So he feels the sting of your hand when you hit the ball and he rly likes it
- Will offer to massage you after a game when you’re all tired
- An excuse to get nasty and he will spank you w the same hand
- Sigh he can’t help himself unfortunately
Asmo:
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- Oh he’s hype
- He’s not one for playing sports
- Buuuuut he does like the appeal of the slutty outfits and seeing people be all aggressive and sweaty
- So when he hears Beel mention you’re tying out for the team he’s immediately intrigued
- He’s probably an honesty cheerleader
- So he’s going to be there dressed to the 9 in YOUR colors every game
- Like not the school colors he’s dripped out in your signature color schemes
- Even somehow gets ahold of an old jersey from the human world and rules it in many outfits
- Brags to people that he has one and it’s signed(pls sign it for him)
- Wears earrings w your number and name on it
- That trope where the head cheerleader kisses the star player bc they’re dating after the game is very him
- Puts in his cutest lipgloss and kisses your cheek
- “Well if it’s you I don’t mind getting all sweaty and out of breath with you~”
- Like I said before he’s feeling off the lust for you in the air
- The lust his brothers feel, the audience, your lust for winning
- He’s intoxicated by it
- He feels his pact mark pulsing and it makes him giggle
- You’d think he’s tickled pink
- But he’s laughing bc he’s about to go crazy after this mf game
- Is hyper focus on how your outfit stretches over you when you move
- Watches you work out
- Bc like let’s be real he’s down to mess round in the gym showers
- Another one to give you a nice ‘Reward’ for playing so well
- Has all these suspiciously seductive pictures of you playing like when did he even take this picture of you bending over??
- Can’t help but to let his hands wander
- Instead of having a jersey to sleep in he will sleep in your whole uniform
- Like you’re looking for it in the morning to go to practice and he’s sleeping in it
- “Well not it smells like me!”
- Sigh
- Well want to get nasty in it but he’s torn between you in it or him in it
- Hardest decision in your life
- Asmo and Levi decked out in your merch and Levi stalks the Stan pages for the best pictures and asmo runs like 3 of em
Beel:
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- my beautiful beloved!
- You come meet him at fangol practice and ask him if they have any other sports
- He mentions offhandedly that the volleyball team is doing tryouts for the new season and you’re like 👀 bet let’s see how yall play
- Comes with you to make sure you don’t get like picked on or anything
- Amazed by seeing what you can do and how confident you get
- Went from like shy brand new human to being the demon ruler of the court he’s so hyped
- “MC where did you learn to do that??”
- “Hard work and a lot of spite✨”
- If anyone got something to say no tf they don’t bc he’s your bodyguard
- Makes sure your games aren’t scheduled at the same time bc he’s not missing your games
- Enjoying your games when he feels a familiar feeling of hunger
- He heard all the other brothers talking about their pact marks feeling funny but he’s like meh
- Starts thinking that maybe you didn’t eat enough before the game
- But when he sees you smiling as your team wins he understands
- That gluttony you feel isn’t towards food but volleyball
- Huh. Interesting
- Not one to immediately get nasty after a game he will want to treat you to snacks first but he mayyyy want to help you get charged after practice
- I mean like you’re exhausted and your muscles are all sore like it’s totally innocent!!
- Wears your jersey number as a patch on his jacket
- But also would have a cute necklace w the number on it like right along w his gold chain
- Whew
- Dangles over your face when he fucks you
- He’s glad you both can workout together 🥰
Belphegor:
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- sleepy
- Not really interested in sports
- But he goes to heels games to cheer him on
- Beel drags him to a game of yours
- Likes how hot you look playing
- Like Satan will make comments about the outfit
- “Are you sure the shorts are supposed to be that short?”
- “They don’t restrict my movement”
- “Hm…. Good to know.”
- Another who steals your jersey and sleeps in it
- Might put it over a pillow to sleep on
- Lazily wants to hold you after a game night
- “Mmmm just rest, you’ve done so much moving around relax with me.”
- Sweeps you into sweet dreams whether you want to sleep or not
- Will have his own wet dreams about you in your outfit
- Will go to the game and cheer with asmo to hype you up
- Likes seeing you set the ball to your teammates and how you can read their minds and direct the game
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