#yoon jeonghan x reader

[sluttywoozi]

Interlude No. 9 | yjh x reader

Interlude No. 9: Jeonghan broke up with you three months ago, so why is he at your door now?

Rating: sfw (minors still shouldn’t be here) | WC: ~3.3k

Pairing: yjh x reader | Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, a lil romance

Warnings: alcohol mention, swearing, breaking up and making up

Reader Notes: drinks wine, owns a blow dryer

You’re halfway into your second glass of wine and fully done with your skincare when a knock sounds on your apartment door. 

It sounds familiar for some reason, and though you normally would never entertain the thought of accepting an unexpected caller after 9 PM, your gut is telling you to answer. So onto the side table your glass goes before you stand on tired legs and slowly make your way to the hall. You should grab the bat but that gut feeling is still there, the one that says you have nothing to worry about, so you pass the closet you keep it in and continue on to the door. 

Closing one eye, you sweep aside the cover and look through the peephole, gasping at what, or rather, who, you find. 

Yoon Jeonghan. 

The man you dated for two years, the man who broke up with you three months ago without an explanation. 

The man you still love. 

You can’t see much, but you can see that he looks awful. His hair is long and sloppily tied back, his glasses are low on his nose, and his eyes are red, glassy. He gnaws at his lip as he waits, his posture growing worse with every minute that ticks by until he’s all but wilted onto the floor. 

You don’t know what to do. 

You blocked his contact after he left you, swore you wouldn’t speak to him again no matter how many friends you have in common, but here he is at your door, looking, for all intents and purposes, dead inside. 

You can’t see him anymore but he didn’t walk away, which means he must have finally sat down in the hall. You’re just glad he’s not making noise, your neighbors have always been nosy and you hate the idea of them knowing about this. 

He doesn’t seem like he’s going anywhere anytime soon, so all you can do is unlock your three locks and open the door a crack, just enough to spot him. 

His gaze shoots up immediately and he rushes to stand, his limbs clumsy as he picks himself up off the floor. 

“Hi,” he breathes, brushing his clothes off and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. 

You ignore the way your stomach drops at his voice, ignore the way it feels like a balm to your frayed nerves, and ask quietly, “What are you doing here?” 

He glances away and pushes up his glasses, swiping a hand over his eyes and down his face before saying, “I wanted to talk to you, about us.” 

You bristle, unhealed hurt rising up within you at his words. 

“Now you want to talk? You didn’t seem to have anything to say three months ago when you left,” you remind him harshly, pretending your heart doesn’t ache at the way he flinches and tries to hide it.

“I- I fucked up, I fucked everything up, I know that. But I’ve been trying to talk to you this whole time, ever since I walked out. Please, just listen to me this once, and I promise, if you never want to hear from me again, I’ll leave you alone.”

He sounds distraught, as close to tears as you’ve ever heard him, and you know you shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you do it anyway. 

You open the door and step to the side, ignoring his deep sigh of relief and pushing down the shock when you smell the cologne you bought him last year as he walks past you. 

You didn’t live together but he knows where to go, making his way to your living room and settling into his corner of the couch. Maybe you should offer him something to drink, but you don’t feel like playing host right now, not when the wound you thought had scarred over has started bleeding again. 

Bypassing your spot on the sofa, you sink into the chair farthest away from him, tugging a blanket over your lap as if it could protect you somehow. 

He stares at you, his gaze a deep pool of sorrow and guilt and his fingers fidgeting in his lap. 

“Well?” You prompt him when he doesn’t speak, almost wishing you had the forethought to grab your glass of wine. You could use it at a time like this. 

“I- I guess I should start off by saying I love you and I’m in love with you and I never stopped being in love with you,” he says it like it’s a vow, like he fears you won’t believe him. 

You say nothing, swallowing around the pit of anguish in your throat. 

“When I left, it was because of me, not because of anything you did. You’re perfect, you always have been. I just- I couldn’t give you what you deserved. I saw how happy you were when Joshua proposed to his partner, and we both knew I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to get married, but I knew that you were sure.”

“I wanted you to be free to find someone who could give you that, and I thought breaking up with you was the right thing to do, but as soon as I left, I knew it was the absolute dumbest and most cowardly thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“I shouldn’t have made that decision for you, I should have told you how I was feeling and let you make the choice yourself, even if the outcome would have been the same.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jeonghan chokes out, his face pinched and his eyes full of saltwater. 

Tears are threatening to stream down your face, your heart squeezing in your chest like someone is wringing it out. It’s time for you to respond to him, but you don’t know what to say. 

You’ve missed him more than you ever thought possible, and a part of you is comforted by the fact that he never stopped loving you. But another part of you is broken, your trust in him fractured and your faith in him lost. 

You feel like he’s misunderstood you on a fundamental level, like the years you spent together were for nothing because he obviously doesn’t know you as well as you thought he did. You feel like your autonomy has been stripped away, like he thinks you’re a child who can’t be trusted to form your own opinions. 

Most of all, you feel robbed, of the last three months, of the lifetime you would have spent with him, married or unmarried. 

“Why are you telling me this now?” You whisper, needing to know his angle. Is he just looking to absolve himself of guilt? You don’t know if you can do that for him. 

“Because I’m dying without you,” he nearly sobs out. “I’ve wanted to come back since I left but my texts and calls wouldn’t go through, and I didn’t want to show up at your job like a creep, and all of our friends hate me except for Seungcheol so there was nobody to carry a message for me. It’s all my own fault, and I know that, I just- I’m selfish, I can’t let you go without knowing you want me to.” 

“Jeonghan, I never wanted you to let me go. I never wanted to be free. I only wanted you,” your voice breaks on the last word, and you have to look away as you fight the urge to openly weep. 

“Past tense?” He sounds defeated, empty. “You don’t…” 

“Yoon Jeonghan, you’re a fucking idiot if you think I don’t love you anymore,” you glare, feeling like you could curse him, hex him and his whole bloodline for his stupidity. “But that doesn’t mean we can pick up where we left off. You broke us, you broke me, and I need time before I can let you in like that again.”

Finally, there’s life in his eyes again, gratitude and love shining on his face, like the fact that you’re even considering it is enough for him. 

“I’ll be here, I’ll wait forever if I have to. And I’m not saying this because I think it’ll change anything, but I do want to marry you, only you, so I mean it when I say forever,” he sends you a watery beam, his face shiny with tears. 

You can’t stop the corners of your mouth from quirking up in a smile, even if you do want to prod further into how he’s suddenly made up his mind. You fear you don’t have the energy for it tonight, not after all of this. 

You also fear you don’t have the heart to send him home alone. He looks a bit better but his cheeks are gaunt, his hair is greasy, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He hasn’t been doing well, and you want to feel vindicated but instead you just feel worried. 

“You can sleep here tonight, on the couch. Let me get you some blankets and pillows,” you whisper, rising to your feet and retreating to your bedroom before he can protest out of some misguided feeling of imposition. 

You gather up his favorite blanket, the one that’s been folded on the chair in the corner of your room since he broke up with you, and his preferred pillow. It still smells like him even though you’ve changed the case countless times, and you have to admit that you’ve been thankful for it. 

You also get some pajamas he left, having neglected to clear out his drawer because you couldn’t bear to open it. 

He’s right where you left him when you return, head tilted back as he dozes, and you set the bedding at the end of the couch before tentatively resting a hand on his shoulder to wake him. 

He blinks up at you and smiles his sweetest smile, and you feel your heart start to stitch itself back together. In a whisper, you say, “Jeonghan, why don’t you take a shower while I get the couch ready?” 

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do all this,” he mumbles, his eyes avoiding yours as he bites at his lip anxiously. 

“I know I don’t. Let me do it anyway,” you tell him, squeezing his shoulder and reaching down for his hand to pull him up and to the bathroom. 

He follows you obediently, taking the pajamas when you hand them over and grinning shyly at you one last time as the bathroom door closes between you. 

You don't have a lot of time to think as you set up the couch, knowing he takes around ten minutes to shower. You’ll probably offer to blow dry his hair when he gets out, he hates sleeping with it wet, he always thinks it’ll give him a cold. Even after three months without him, caring for him is still as easy as breathing. 

Now that you have space to think, you’re not sure how much time you really need to let him back in. 

Of course, you’re still wounded and bitter that he left you in the first place, but you can tell he wasn’t lying, that he really thought he was doing the right thing. You think he knows now that he shouldn’t ever do something like that again, and while your trust in him is cracked, it’s not as broken as you worried it was. 

Setting everything he should and shouldn’t have done aside, you have to admit that you miss him, desperately, and that you want to be his just as much as you want him to be yours. 

But with all of your feelings so fresh, you think you should sleep on it at least one night, just to be sure you have forgiven him, that you can take him back. 

You should have a few minutes left before he’s done, so you sneak back into your room and grab your blow dryer and hair brush from your vanity, setting up shop on the chair closest to an outlet. 

Soon enough, he wanders out in his baggy shirt and pajama pants, squeezing his dripping hair with a towel and grinning when he sees you. 

“Salon time?” He asks with excitement, and you smile indulgently, waving the hair dryer at him and waiting for him to sit cross legged in front of you, his back to your knees and his head at the perfect height for you to take care of his hair. 

It’s soothing to you, carrying out this routine and having this kind of intimacy with him after all these weeks apart. 

You dry and dry until his silky locks slip through your fingers, and when you finally shut the blow dryer off, the silence in the room is deafening. Jeonghan is leaning back against your legs, his head dipped low and his neck bent at an odd angle, and you realize he’s fallen asleep. 

It must have been soothing to him too, you think, gently scratching your nails over his scalp before whispering his name. 

He stirs, looking around in confusion and tilting his head all the way back to look at you upside down, a sleepy smile stretching his lips. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice hushed and relaxed. 

You fight the urge to lean down and press a kiss to his lips like you used to, smoothing your finger over his eyebrow instead and replying, “You’re welcome.”

He pushes up to his feet, stretching his hands overhead and yawning loudly, before turning and reaching for you only to stop short. 

“Goodnight,” he says, folding his hands behind his back like he’ll touch you if he doesn’t. 

“Goodnight,” you whisper, trying to ignore how weird it feels not to follow it with an I love you. 

You turn and retreat to your room before the words can escape without your permission, closing the door behind you with a soft click. 

You’re already all washed up for the night so you just slide into your side of the bed, pulling the duvet tight around you to mimic the feeling of Jeonghan’s arms. 

It takes you ages to fall asleep with the knowledge that he’s just a few yards away, that you could have him in this bed if only you would ask. 

It’s dark when you wake, your heart still racing with the nightmare that roused you though you can’t remember it. You lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling in an attempt to calm yourself, your eyes locking onto the blur of the fan, just barely visible with the moonlight seeping in through the curtains. 

You hardly ever got nightmares when Jeonghan slept over, but you’ve had innumerable sleepless nights over the past three months, and you were hoping tonight wouldn’t be one of them with him in your apartment. 

Maybe you should check and make sure he’s still here. He could have left, could have changed his mind, could have decided he was right to end it with you and gone home to his own apartment, and you wouldn’t even know until morning.

That anxiety is enough to make you roll out of bed and pad over to the door, your steps quiet and your breath caught in your chest. 

You turn the knob as smoothly as you can, pushing the door open and wincing when it creaks. But when you look over to check if you woke Jeonghan, he’s already sitting up, the lamp on the side table on and a book from your shelf in his hands. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks with concern, setting the book face down on the table and giving you his full attention. 

“I just wanted to… check on you,” you give him a half truth, forgetting that he always could see right through you. 

“You were scared I went home, weren't you?” He murmurs, a tinge of sadness to his voice and a remorseful frown on his face. 

“Maybe,” you fiddle with the hem of your t-shirt, avoiding his eyes. “I just had a nightmare so…”

“Was it that I left again?” He asks, pulling his legs up and making room on the couch for you before patting the cushion in front of him. You take a few steps forward and he lifts the blanket up, covering your exposed legs with it when you settle onto the sofa. 

“No, I don’t remember what happened. I just didn’t get them with you around so I thought you might not be around.”

You have to fight the urge not to crawl into his lap and curl up against him, feeling especially starved for affection after waking so abruptly. You wonder if he feels as far from you as you do from him, stuck in this limbo of being together but not together. 

You think he does when you notice the longing in his soft eyes, see the way his brows are gently furrowed and his lip is bitten between his teeth. 

“How can I help?” He wonders quietly, and you only give yourself a few seconds to think it over. 

Yes, he broke up with you for a reason that he should have talked with you about instead. Yes, you’ve missed him the past three months like you never knew you could. Yes, it’s probably too soon to let him back in like this. 

But you find you don’t care about any of that. 

You just want him close, need to know he’s here and he’s staying and he’s yours. 

So you push aside your bruised feelings and whisper in a fragile voice, “Come to bed with me?” 

He looks unsure but rises when you do, his face smoothing out as he offers you his hand and lets you tug him to your bedroom. He hovers when he crosses the threshold and it occurs to you that you might have to guide him. He was so respectful of your boundaries in the beginning of the relationship that you called almost all of the shots, and you wonder if your two years of progress have been undone over the past three months apart. 

But maybe this is a good thing, you think as you lead him over to his side of the bed and tuck him in. You’re the one who told him you can’t pick up where you left off, and you like that he’s reset a bit, that he wants to treat this like a fresh start, because it is one.  

Before, you would just crawl over him onto your side, but now you walk around the bed, climbing in and tugging the blanket over your body. You pull it up to your chin, still feeling a bit chilled, and it takes you less than sixty seconds to decide cuddling is allowed even if you’re beginning anew. 

So you roll onto your side to face him, your eyes just barely able to make him out in the dark of your bedroom. He turns his head to look at you, his hands folded together on his stomach before he reaches one out across the bed. That’s the only signal you need to close the distance and tuck yourself up under his arm, your cheek resting in the hollow of his shoulder and your hand finding his. 

He tilts his head up, pressing his lips to your forehead and sneaking a whiff of your hair as he tangles his fingers with yours. You take in a deep breath, what feels like your first since he ended things, and let your eyelids flutter shut, trusting that he’ll be here when you wake. 

“I love you,” he whispers, so low you almost don’t hear him.

“I love you, too,” you mumble back. “But if you pull that shit again, it’ll be the last thing you ever do, and I mean that.”

“Please murder me if I do. Obviously I’ve gone fucking crazy if I fuck this up again.”

You fall asleep with a smile on your face. 

AN: yayyy i wrote something!! a randomized wheel told me to write jeonghan so i did and it turned into this and then the wheel told me to make it smutty and i was like no that is not correct! so sorry lovelies but no smut today!! it just didn't feel right after them being apart for so long and jeonghan only just starting to make it up to reader and earn her back (even if she is making it easy for him)

thank u for reading, please lmk what you think!!

#k vanity #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #✨emily writes✨

[mingtinys]

" i will never be too mad to take care of you "

pairing : yoon jeonghan x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : language , descriptions of a wound , blood

word count : 0.5 k

a/n : last minute i actually decided to flip jeonghan's and joshua's prompt , we'll see if i regret it

Your eyes follow Jeonghan carefully, tracking his movements throughout the kitchen. Waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn't, he simply continues to mull about his business. Completely ignoring your presence and the tension that hangs heavily in the air as a result of your recent argument.

It wasn't the biggest fight you've ever had, but it was surely up there. In the heat of it, you said some things you didn't mean, things that seemed to hit Jeonghan in just the right spot to set him off. You felt bad at first. The moment tears began to gather in his eyes and his face dropped you felt the urge to apologize. But then he opened his mouth and shot some choice words back at you in a way that hit just as hard. All thoughts of talking it out ceased then and there, and so ensued the ongoing silence between you two.

Even just his lingering presence as you try to prepare dinner has you on edge. So much so, that you focus all your attention on what he's doing and what he could be thinking rather than the onion you're chopping up. With your mind split, it only takes a few seconds before you feel the knife slice into your hand. It clatters to the ground as you cry out and cradle your injured hand.

"Ah– shit!"

Jeonghan is at your side in half a second, maybe less. Reaching out to take hold of your hand so he can examine it. "What happened?" His voice is urgent, but his grip is gentle as he hovers over the bleeding wound.

"Ow– I'm fine, it's fine—"

"No, you're not. Just take a seat, I'll be back in a second." He's gone and back in under a minute, the first aid kit from the upstairs bathroom tucked under his arm. You sit in the nearest chair and Jeonghan kneels in front, delicately taking your hand into his palm.

It stays silent as he cleans around the cut and begins to tenderly wrap the fluffy white gauze around your hand. "It looks pretty deep. I think it'd be best if we go to the emergency room and have it looked at, I can drive."

"Why?" The word slips out before you can stop it.

Jeonghan gives you a funny look. "Um, because you might need stitches?"

"No. I meant why do you care?" Tears brim at your lashes and you can feel the tidal wave of pent-up emotions ready to crash down. "I said some really awful things. You should be mad right now, not helping me—"

"Woah woah woah, hey," He soothes. His palm softly cups your face while the other rests on your knee, squeezing it. "I will never be too mad to take care of you." The sincerity in his sparkling gaze never falters.

"I'm really sorry, Jeonghan. I promise I didn't mean what I said."

"I know," he smiles, rising to his feet to press a chaste kiss on your forehead. "I'm sorry as well. We can talk about it once you're better."

#yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan oneshot #yoon jeonghan oneshot #jeonghan fanfic #yoong jeonghan fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x you #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x you #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #jeonghan angst #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fic #svt scenarios

[veethefreeelf]

Hate is a strong word - Y.JH

Summary: 

You were living out your dream working in an ideal company with great colleagues and friends, except one. Yoon Jeonghan has been your nemesis from the moment the both of you stepped into this company. Sometimes you wonder if you’re living your dream or stuck in a nightmare.

Wordcount: 15k

Warnings: lots of snarky, petty dialogue; jealous jeonghan; jealous reader; vaginal fingering; oral f. receiving; vaginal penetration (protected & unprotected); some shoving of panties in mouths; lots and lots of praising; tie being used as a gag/leash; spanking; cumshot; pussy slapping

Requested: yes, by @shuahasmyheartffs

P.S - Italic is for thoughts mainly from the characters’ perspective and quotes. Bold is for text messages/calls/voice messages between characters

After you graduated college, you were hoping to join the company of your dreams. You worked so hard for so many years and you were even able to do a summer internship at this company during your college years. 

At the time, the team lead of the marketing department really took you in and expressed how they would love for you to contact them after you graduated to see if they had any openings for you to join them.

This had been your proudest moment, up until the day you actually joined the company. By then, the former team lead of the marketing department had moved up but you know they still helped in the hiring process to make sure you secured the position available. He had also told you at the time that in the worst case scenario, you could start in the advertising department since they had an opening and move to the marketing department once you had the chance.

However, to your delight this wasn’t necessary. You passed all your tests and interviews and they loved your portfolio even if it was a short one since you had just graduated. 

You joined the team and started to get to know your colleagues. Everyone was amazing. Some had been in the company longer and others had recently joined like you but you got along with all of them amazingly well. You had always been a people person so this didn’t really surprise you. You also found out very early on that you would need to work closely with the advertising team so you should start getting to know them as well.

One of the senior members of the team - Soonyoung - (or as he preferred to be called: Hoshi) had warned you early on that the members of the advertising team were tough but you shouldn't have any problems with them at all. ‘Unless something horrible happened like the new person that would join would be the devil’ he had said and laughed. You laughed along with him. You would be just fine.

You both shouldn’t have laughed because indeed, the new person that joined that team was the devil. And, since the day you met him and he completely destroyed all of your ideas in an interdepartmental meeting, you vouched to destroy everything he loved. Okay, maybe not that. But, definitely destroy all of his ideas and make sure everyone knew what a gigantic asshole he was.

And here you are, five years later. Still hating each other and still making sure everyone knew. Always trying to one up each other and get the last say in everything. 

The only difference now is that you both are department team leads. You both got promoted at around the same time. Except you got promoted one day sooner and you would never let him live it down. 

Today was a very important day for you. The company had just gotten a very big account, and your team was in charge of the marketing strategies for this account. Of course, all marketing strategies and efforts need to be hand in hand with the advertising team, and this usually meant an interdepartmental meeting and your nemesis shooting down every single idea your team proposes. 

You were hoping that for this big account, he would be a bit less of an asshole. You were wrong. Every idea proposed by your team was shot down. 

‘Not enough budget. Too expensive to recruit developers and add those features. Just overall doesn’t make sense for their line of business’.

He found every excuse in the book. You had decided then, you weren’t going to give up until he was gone from this company. Or at least from this branch. You needed him out of your life before you committed murder.

You just didn’t get it. Their team was tough and you knew that, but to everyone else he was just so nice and available and open to new ideas. However, anything coming from your team, with your stamp of approval was immediately a target for him.

“If looks could kill, he sure would be dead as fuck wouldn’t he?” Hoshi asked you.

You were eating at the company’s cafeteria and you might have been chewing a little too hard and staring at the back of his head plotting ways to get rid of him.

“He’s just such a fucking asshole. And for what? What does he gain with this? Endless meetings with us until one of us breaks? It won’t be me this time. Absolutely not. He better be ready for a fucking fight” you told Hoshi and the rest of your team as they sat down.

“Your hate for each other is tearing both our teams apart” Sunny said mercilessly and you looked around the table. Everyone nodded in agreement.

“How is this my fault? He started this 5 years ago. Started hating on every word that left my mouth for no fucking reason. What am I supposed to do? He did it again today! And I just took it without saying a word. How are you guys blaming me for this?” you asked as you looked around the table.

“You could just be the bigger person? I’m sure if you stop acknowledging everything, he’ll give up” Hoshi said.

“Let’s not blame, Y/N. She has tried to calm things down between them. He just keeps adding fuel to the fire. He’s clearly doing it on purpose” Seokmin had told everyone.

“See? Not my fault. I’ve tried. He will just keep doing this until one of us quits or moves to a different branch. It won’t be me though, don’t you worry” you said as you continued to angrily eat your lunch.

“But he is so hot, though. You should just fuck him. I bet that will calm him down” Clara, the remaining member of your team, spoke up.

“He is the devil. I would rather die than fuck him” you answered without hesitation.

“Oh come on. I can’t believe you haven’t thought about it. Look at him. EVERYONE wants to fuck him. Every human at this company has tried and failed. Except one. Lucky bitch from IT” Clara added.

“I can’t believe Hana bagged him. He had to be drunk. He does not fuck around from what I heard. Not his thing at all. He’s apparently a hopeless romantic waiting to find the one. Very unfortunate for most of us” Sunny added.

“Guys, I will vomit. Please, stop talking about the devil that haunts my nightmares that way. And also, no gossiping, come on. Hana gets enough attention” you told everyone on your team.

“Hey, Y/L/N. You’ve really been off your game since your promotion but today was definitely a new low for you”

You knew who was by your table talking shit. Bold of him to do so while you were holding a knife. Hoshi took the knife from your hand and you stared at him.

“What? We like you as our team lead, we can’t lose you to a crime of passion” he told you and Jeonghan laughed.

“Crime of passion, Y/L/N? Have you been harboring a crush for me? I’m flattered” Jeonghan spoke again.

“The only time your name and crush exist in the same thought inside my brain is when I fantasize about crushing all your hopes and dreams before the day I die, Yoon” you said as you started to angrily clean up your tray. 

You couldn’t even eat at peace here. It wasn't enough for him to torture you during meetings. He always found a way to find you around the building and push your buttons beyond explanation.

“So you are fantasizing about me. Wow. Very forward, Y/L/N” he said and smirked.

“Hmm… Is that what you desperately want, Yoon? Me, fantasizing about you? Alone, in my bedroom, just thinking about you?” you said as you got up and got ridiculously close to him. You could’ve swore you saw a flash of surprise in his eyes and that he gulped at your statement.

“Pretty fucking pathetic, Yoon. And also, never, in your wildest fucking dreams but you are more than welcome to stay delusional” you said as you backed away. 

You picked up your tray and finally left. 

“You could stop being such an asshole to her. To our team, I mean” Seokmin said to Jeonghan after you left.

“Be better at your jobs and I won’t have to be” Jeonghan told your team and left as well.

“I should’ve let her have the knife” Hoshi said after he left.

“I’m telling you, they need to fuck. Everything will calm down once they get it out of their system” Clara said and everyone groaned.

You got to your office and you needed to calm down. You just didn’t get it. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone. It’s one thing to professionally disagree with someone because you have valid and rational reasons to. But it’s a completely different story to target one person and shoot all their ideas down. Valid or not. This no longer feels like just a professional rivalry, it feels personal as well.

Maybe your team was right. Except Clara. She was fucking wrong. Sure, when he first joined you thought he had been the most beautiful human you had ever seen in your entire life, but as soon as he started speaking up and hating on you, that notion was long gone. He wasn’t hot enough for you to ever forgive him. ‘Right?’ you asked yourself and immediately shot that down ‘Yeah. You hate him. Absolutely never going to happen’.

Clara was wrong. Maybe everyone else was right about you being the bigger person. Maybe if you stopped talking back to him in and out of meetings, he would give up and move on to a different target. 

As you were contemplating your next move and if you were strong enough to be the bigger person, there was a knock at your office door.

“Come in” you had said after sitting down on your office chair.

“Hey, sorry. Do you have a minute?”

Seungcheol. Jeonghan’s partner in crime. He was a very tough cookie but you had always gotten along with him. He was reasonable and knew to acknowledge when your team was right and they were wrong.

“Go ahead. Be quick, please. Thanks to your team lead I will be spending the rest of the afternoon in brainstorming sessions since nothing is good enough for that prick” you said as you rubbed your temples.

A migraine. Of course. Because this day hasn’t sucked hard enough.

“About that… Maybe hold off on the brainstorming. I quite liked some of your team's ideas and I believe they are well within the client’s budget and needs. I’ll be talking to Jeonghan this afternoon to show him he’s wrong” he told you after he sat down across from you.

You raised your eyebrow.

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’, Y/N? I told you. Your team’s ideas were good. So I wanted you to know that so you can pass that on to the team. I also want you to understand we are not your enemies. I mean our departments are supposed to work together but it somehow seems we keep diverging more and more every day” he sighed.

“And whose fault is that?” you asked.

“I know he has been insufferable lately. But you have to admit, you do enjoy riling him up too. You’ve also made your share of bad decisions and comments because of your rivalry”

“It seems both our teams are suffering” you added to his comment.

You get it. The both of you probably have been ruining a perfectly good job and work environment for both your teams. You wanted it to end. You just didn’t know how to do that. Every time you wanted to try, he would make an absolutely ridiculous comment and you just couldn’t help yourself. You had to answer. He couldn’t win.

“I’ve tried, Seungcheol. You know I have. Even today, at the meeting, I could’ve answered him but I chose not to. It doesn’t matter. Answering, not answering. If I don’t engage with his comments during a meeting, he will find me somehow around this building and make sure to torture me. I don’t know what he wants from me” you said sincerely and he laughed. He laughed loudly. You were more and more confused by the minute.

“Really, Y/N? You really don’t know?” he asked, still laughing.

“I don’t have a crystal ball, Seungcheol. If I did something that offended him when we both started working here, I’m sorry, but I have no fucking clue what that is and it’s been five years. Whatever it was, he should’ve let it go a long time ago” you answered him and he seemed to understand. ‘You really didn’t know’ he thought to himself.

“Well, either way it’s not up to me to bring it up. I just want peace. Both of our teams need peace. So maybe keep that in mind next time you want to answer one of his snarky comments, just saying” he told you as he got up to leave.

“Thank you, Seungcheol. You should’ve been the one promoted, not him” you added before he was out of your office.

“We both know that’s not true. He may be an asshole, but he’s brilliant” he said and left your office.

At least this time, Seungcheol came to deliver good news.

After he left your office, you had a call with your team and explained there wouldn’t be any brainstorming sessions for this account until you hear the advertising team's final verdict on the previous meeting. Everyone was relieved, maybe this would be the beginning of the end of this war. 

You got home absolutely exhausted. Mentally and physically. You didn’t want to cook or clean or do anything. You got a bath ready and decided you were going to order food. Fuck it. You deserved it after this shitshow of a day. 

After your bath and dinner, you just wanted to rest. You went to the couch and turned on ‘New Girl’. You needed something silly to make your soul a little happier today. You had suffered enough. Or so you thought.

Your phone dinged, signaling a text message and you had a bad feeling before you even looked down at the phone on your coffee table. You picked up your phone from the coffee table and of course. It was a text message from ‘The Devil’. Why couldn’t he leave you alone, even after work?!

“You must be really proud about today. Talking to Seungcheol behind my back. I’m not going back on any of my decisions so good luck”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Is this man serious? This is exactly why you can’t stop responding to his shit. He always manages to piss you off beyond reason. Beyond any restraint possible.

“You got it all wrong. Seungcheol came to me. Apparently, you are unreasonable and wrong. None of that is my fault. And, I will win as usual because you are wrong. As usual” you replied.

This would be your only reply of the night. That’s it. Whatever he says next, you will not engage. You can’t. You need to think about both of your teams and you have to stop being selfish and stop this war.

“I’ll take this up the chain if I have to. My team shouldn’t pay for your team’s incompetence” he added. 

And there goes all your restraint. You can take a lot of insults from him but you won’t let him step all over your team.

“My team is far more competent than you. That’s the reason I got promoted first. The only reason you got promoted after me was the fact that your boss can’t stand having a woman in charge of a team and he knew you would be his best bet at having me leave this branch or quit. Now stop texting me outside of work and delete my phone number. I did not give you this number and don’t want you to have it. Thank you.”

That wasn’t too bad. You replied and defended your team but you didn’t add fuel to the fire. It short and concise and to the point and you fucking hope he listens and stops contacting you.

And he did, at least for tonight, he stopped replying. You never found out how he got your personal phone number but ever since he did, he loved texting you once in a while to make sure you weren’t happy outside of work. Apparently, he wanted you to feel miserable all around. He always had some additional comment he forgot to add during work hours and wanted to make sure you were going to bed thinking about it.

You hated him. You never liked saying you hated anyone. It’s such a strong feeling but you were pretty fucking sure this was pure hatred.

He ruined your day at work, and now he had ruined your night of rest and sitcom binging at home. You were so pissed you decided to go to bed and hope tomorrow is a better day.

Except it wasn’t. It wasn’t a better day at all. Jeonghan kept his promise. As soon as he got to work, he went to his boss to make sure his decisions were final. Your boss then started to get involved and for the rest of the week it had been constant meetings and battles regarding this one account. Not only that, but Jeonghan had even been worse this whole week to you and your team. He was on a brand new level of assholeness. You just wanted the week to end. You wanted Friday to come so you could go to the company quarter party and get hammered.

Finally, on Friday, they had come to an agreement that one of the ideas from your team was going to go forward but your team would need to come up with new ones as the other options were vetoed. You didn’t know what to feel. It still felt like a loss and the more he smirked, the worse you felt. You couldn’t not say anything so when your boss asked for agreement on your side, you were very clear on your response.

“We will do it. However, you should know these two people across from us will be the reason we might lose this account and multiple ones in the future” you told your boss and as you turned to Jeonghan’s boss, you continued.

“You can put that on the record and give me a disciplinary warning. I will not stay silent while my team’s work keeps being put in question by people far dumber than any of us simply because the team lead is a woman. You should both be ashamed of the decisions you have made professionally based on your personal hate of me” you finished.

Jeonghan wasn’t smirking anymore. He was staring at the ground like a child that had just been disciplined by their mother or a teacher. You felt proud. You left and went straight to your office. You knew there would be consequences to your words but you can’t deal with this anymore. You are reaching a boiling point with that man and his sexist boss. 

You were pacing around your office trying to calm yourself down. This day was almost over. You were going to enjoy tonight. You wouldn’t let them win and ruin everything. You were going to have a great time with your team and no one was going to stop that from happening. You started to smile thinking about the goofballs in your team and how you were going to have an amazing time when there was a knock at your door. ‘Here we go’ you thought. Your boss was about to rip you a new one.

“Come in”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Jeonghan walked through your office door and you both just stared at each other silently. You didn’t know why he was here but you didn’t care.

“Get out” you said as you walked around your desk to your chair.

“I know things haven’t been ideal but I just wanted to say I don’t hate you. I never have” he said and you laughed while you sat down.

“Well, I hate you, Yoon Jeonghan. Always have. From the very first day you decided to start testing me. Now that that’s settled, please, get out of my office” you said and started packing up your things for the day.

“Hate is a strong word, Y/N”

“Indeed. And you have no idea how much I dislike that word. How much I dislike using it. But, you did that. Congrats. You broke me and managed to make me hate you. Hope it was worth it” you said as you started to walk out of your office.

But just before you left, you had one more thing to add.

“It’s sad really. If you weren’t this way, I truly believe we could’ve made a great team” you told him and then left.

After you got home, you started getting ready for the company’s quarter party and you decided you weren’t going to let this stop you or your team from continuing to do a great job. 

Tonight would be sort of a team building exercise for the five of you. The company liked throwing these parties every quarter and it reminded you a bit of the Dundies in The Office. They also gave silly awards but instead of a trophy, you got a fridge magnet and a chance to donate $25 to a charity of your choosing. It was pretty cool.

Besides, the company usually rented the same hotel ballroom and had an open bar and a DJ after the awards. Everything was free and it truly helped employees unwind and relax after each quarter. You were proud to be a part of this. 

You usually don’t choose to drink too much at these parties since word gets around pretty fast of any embarrassing moments that may have happened after most people had left. Tonight would be different though. You and your team deserved to get hammered and dance until they kicked you out of the hotel.

Once you told your team that, they couldn’t be happier. It’s like they had forgotten everything that has happened in the last few weeks. You were thankful for that. You wanted to feel that way too.

You and Clara took an Uber to the party together and Hoshi, Seokmin and Sunny also did the same. None of you ever wanted to arrive first and be alone at these parties so you usually split up into groups and went together.

The trio arrived first at the party, went to the table marked for your team and moved over to the bar immediately. 

When you and Clara got there, you noticed them at the bar and decided to join them before going to your table and setting your belongings down.

“Starting early, are we?” you asked and laughed along with Clara.

“Hey! It’s the boss! And duh, of course, you said to go wild tonight so we need to start early” Seokmin told you as he sipped his cider.

“Besides, once you see who is the other team sharing the table with us, you’re going to wish you had started drinking earlier, Y/N” Hoshi added and their little trio started laughing. Of course you had to share a table with him. But you won’t let him get to you. Not tonight. You turned to the bartender.

“Whiskey & Coke please, no ice. Thank you”

“Oof, you really meant to go wild. Starting pretty strong, Y/N. Careful or you might do something stupid tonight” Sunny said with a teasing tone and you all laughed together.

After you all had your drinks, you started to move towards the table so you could sit down and hang out as a team. You wanted to take advantage of the fact that the advertising team hadn’t arrived yet.

“Okay so about that ‘doing something stupid tonight’” Clara started to add to Sunny’s previous remarks.

Hoshi and Seokmin started shaking their heads disapprovingly before she even continued her sentence.

“You should fuck Jackson from the IT department, Y/N” Sunny said and everyone whipped around to look at her. Usually, Clara is your problem child. No one quite knew how to react to what she just said.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. You know he wants to fuck you come on. Also, I heard from Cass in HR that he also has a huge--”

“Sunny!” you stopped her before she had a chance to finish her sentence. You and our team couldn’t stop laughing. Who knew Sunny had it in her. You really have to watch out for the quiet ones. They will always surprise you.

“Oh come on, Sunny. If Y/N is fucking anyone with a big cock tonight she might as well hate fuck Jeonghan” Clara added and you just gulped down your drink. She wasn’t going to give up on this idea, It was going to be a long night.

“And how do you know that for a fact? Just because Hana said it, doesn’t mean it’s true” Hoshi started adding fuel to the fire.

“Why would Hana lie about that? And why the fuck would she follow Jeonghan around like a lost puppy if he hadn’t been amazing like she keeps advertising? She was not lying and you should find out for yourself, Y/N” Clara answered.

Everyone looked at you.

“What? I’m not even gonna dignify that with a response” you said and Clara laughed.

“Hmm… Sounds like maybe you’re interested in finding out… Or are you just jealous that Hana got to him first?” Clara asked and they all started laughing and agreeing with her. You loved them all but sometimes you wanted to kill them.

“Sounds like she is both jealous and interested in finding out” someone whispered in your ear from behind you.

All your team members stopped laughing and went silent. They knew better than to laugh at what Jeonghan just said, no matter how funny it was. Jeonghan walked around from behind you with Seungcheol and they both sat down across from your team at the table.

“I already told you, Yoon. No matter how many times you dream about it, it’s never going to happen” you said and started getting up to get another drink. You need a lot more alcohol to get through tonight.

“We’ll see” he said as you were walking away.

There will be no more peace tonight at that table. And you know once your team gets enough drinks in them, it’s going to get even messier. Funny thing is both your teams get along great with each other. You and Jeonghan seem to be the only ones ruining all the fun.

When you got to the bar, you decided to just get a coke. Dinner was to come, followed by the awards and there will be a lot of wine. You need to pace yourself. You don’t want to end up completely drunk. Definitely not at that table.

Surprisingly, dinner went over smoothly. Everyone was talking and having fun with each other. Clara kept throwing in some comments about you and Jeonghan and everyone seemed to enjoy it so all you did in those moments was roll your eyes. The only two people not interacting with each other were you and Jeonghan.

The awards started and it was always quite fun. People gave great speeches and they roasted themselves and their colleagues and bosses. You always had a blast. You had won a few of these before but not recently so you were surprised when you were called in to receive the ‘Warrior of the Branch’ award. ‘Clever’ you thought to yourself.

You went over to get handed your fridge magnet by your boss and she winked at you as she handed it to you.

“Well, I would say this is a surprise but it isn’t. Even today I got a disciplinary warning for defending myself and my team so it makes sense. There’s only one person I need to thank for this because he is the reason I wake up every morning, look in the mirror and tell myself all the reasons why I shouldn’t commit murder that day. I gotta tell you, most days I don’t care about those reasons and so thank you Hoshi, for taking the knife out of my hands, forcibly” you paused as everyone laughed with you.

“So, thank you Jeonghan. I never thought any good would come from hating you, but I’m sure the charity I choose tonight will think otherwise” you ended your speech. Everyone clapped and you started heading back to your seat. You noticed Jeonghan was no longer at your table. Were you too harsh?

“You could cut him some slack, Y/N” Wonwoo from Jeonghan’s team spoke up and everyone went silent.

“He doesn’t cut me any slack, why should I cut him some?” you asked in response and left the table.

You didn’t know where Jeonghan went and you didn’t know if he left the table because of your speech but how is this fair? You always get treated like the bad guy when he is the one that started all of this. He is the one that tortures you on a daily basis. But somehow, whenever he gets upset, it all gets turned around on you. 

You needed to hide for now. You wanted to be alone. You were sick of all of this. To be honest, you don’t know how much more you can take before you transfer branches or even quit altogether. 

You went to the usual place in this hotel you go to hide whenever you start to feel overwhelmed at these parties. There was a small room on the side of the ballroom that was also rented out to your company. It was used to store all the awards and company belongings before the awards started and your boss has always given you the key to the room after they’ve emptied it out. She knew you often need time and space to yourself away from everyone. She was one of the reasons you haven’t given up on this job just yet.

You unlocked the room and walked through the door. You didn’t turn the lights on, no need. You locked the door behind you and moved to the window. It was a beautiful, huge window that had a nice sofa in front of it. You loved sitting there and staring outside in silence. This window was facing the garden that surrounded the back portion of the hotel and you loved to sit there and just look at the trees in peace.

“No fair. I thought I was the only one that had the key to this room after they were done using it” Jeonghan spoke up from across the room. He was sitting in a lounge chair and the moonlight was allowing you to see his face. He looked upset. 

“It appears life isn’t fair for either of us. I love being alone here, yet here you are” you said and turned back to the window.

For a while there was only silence. All you could hear in this room was both of you breathing. You were staring out the window. He was staring at you. You were sure of it. You could feel his eyes on you. It wasn’t uncomfortable. You just never knew what he wanted and you were too tired to try to figure it out at this moment.

“I really can’t stand hearing you say you hate me, you know that?” he asked you.

You turned to look at him again and scoffed.

“How is that my problem? You did this to yourself” you said and turned back to the window.

You really hoped this was it. That he wasn’t going to talk to you anymore. You didn’t mind sharing this space in silence.

“Why do you always have to answer me with such disdain? I understand I’ve been hard on you and your team but you’re taking this a bit too far don’t you think?” he asked you as he got up from his chair and started to walk over to you.

And here it was. The reason why you could never keep quiet and not answer him. He always seemed to be completely detached from reality. He’s the one torturing you, yet he thinks he’s the victim. Typical.

“You’ve been hard on me and my team?? You’ve been a nightmare, Jeonghan. At work and outside of it. You actively seek me out to torture me whenever you get the chance but somehow I’m to blame?” you got up from the sofa and started raising your voice at him. You two were standing a little too close to each other.

“You’ve spent years trying to destroy everything I’m trying to build for myself, for no apparent reason and you act surprised when you hear me say that I hate you? How can I not? You’ve pushed me this far, it’s your fault and I’ll keep saying it no matter how upset you pretend to be: I hate--”

He kissed you. You couldn't finish your sentence. He kissed you hard. He grabbed you by the neck with one hand and held your body close to his with the other and he kept kissing you. And you let him. 

Not only did you let him kiss you but you kissed him back just as hard. Your hands were on the collar of his shirt and you were both just a tangled mess. Trying to devour each other. All the anger you both had accumulated over the years led up to this moment. Neither of you could think. Neither of you could stop. 

He started walking you back to the sofa you had just been sitting on, and once you reached it, he started lowering you down on it. He was on top of you, kissing you and you couldn’t help but to place your legs around his waist and pull him closer. When you both started to moan into each others’ mouths, he pulled away from you.

“Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave right now. We’ll pretend this never happened” he told you sincerely.

You could tell he meant it. He was giving you a chance to back out of this. To stop this before you crossed the ultimate line with him. And as hard as it was to admit, you didn’t want him to stop. 

You couldn’t remember the last time anyone kissed you and touched you like this. Now that you think about it, you don’t think anyone has kissed you and touched you this way before. Full of passion and lust. 

“Don’t stop” you answered him.

He silently nodded and lowered himself to kiss you again. He started moving his hands down your body. Touching you everywhere. As if he was trying to memorize the shape of you in case this was just a dream or in case he would never get the chance to touch you like this again. He moved down and started to kiss down your neck, moving to your cleavage next as one of his hands was moving towards your clothed pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. You’re gonna kill me one of these days, I swear, angel” he said once his hand reached your panties and he started massaging your clit over your now ruined underwear. 

He was right, you were dripping. You wanted this so bad. You wanted him. Especially now that he was saying all the right things. He pulled away from you and moved down your body.

“I really wish I could take my fucking time with you but you had to let me fuck you for the first time here” Jeonghan said disapprovingly and you sighed.

He lowered his face to your pussy and started to leave open mouthed kisses to your clothed core. He was driving you insane. You started to moan. You needed him to stop taking his time.

“Fuck, angel… You’re a loud one, aren’t you? I should’ve known from your smart mouth. Let’s find a way to keep you quiet, hmm?” he said as he started to take your panties off.

“Be a good girl and open up, angel” he told you after taking your panties off and tapping your lips twice with his fingers. 

Fuck, why did you love being praised so much? And how the fuck did he know this was exactly the way you like it? It doesn’t matter. You did what he asked and opened your mouth. He pushed your panties into your mouth and whispered ‘good girl’ to you while he pulled back to move back down to your pussy.

He collected your juices on his fingers and started to suck them while looking into your eyes. You moaned into your panties and your breathing was starting to get erratic. He gave you a short laugh and moved down to latch on to your clit. He started sucking on it aggressively while his fingers moved around your hole. Just teasing you. He was going to be the death of you. 

You wiggled your hips and he laughed again. He wanted to take his time with you but the loudness in the room next to you reminded him that he needed to hurry if he wanted to be inside of you tonight. So he gave in to what both of you desperately wanted. He started eating you out like it was his last day on earth. His mouth was on your clit and two of his fingers finally got inside of you.

He set a fast pace from the start and you could tell he was responding and adjusting his movements every time you moaned a little too loud. He wanted to understand what could make you cum the fastest. He wanted to learn what made you more and more desperate and he quickly found the answers he was looking for.

His fingers found your g-spot and he kept making sure he hit it every single time. Same thing for his tongue and mouth on your clit. As soon as he found the rhythm that made you scream into your panties, he kept at it.

He wanted to make you feel pleasure like you never had before and he was going to make sure this wasn’t going to be a one time thing. He was going to find out everything about you and your body and guarantee you would want him back in your arms after tonight.

After just a few moments of hitting the right spots and keeping at the right pace, you started getting louder and louder and he wished he could hear you more clearly. You were so close. No one had ever made you cum this fast in your life and you didn’t want to fight it or hold back. One of your hands went to your tits to massage them and the other went to his hair. He started to moan into your pussy and once his free hand grabbed your thigh so fucking hard it could leave bruises behind, you finally came into his mouth. 

You were loud when you came. Jeonghan started looking towards the door to make sure no one heard you too. He was begging inside his head for you two to not be interrupted now. Not now, that he was so close to getting inside of you.

Once he realized no one heard you two and now that you were coming down from your high, he reached into his jacket pocket and took out his wallet. He threw his jacket on the floor, unzipped his pants and started to lower them and his boxers to his knees. 

You finally opened your eyes after your high and looked at Jeonghan. He was getting a condom out of his wallet and you could see his half naked bottom half now.

Hana had not been lying. He was big. Almost too big. You didn’t know how he was going to fit inside of you, but fuck it if you weren’t going to try your best. He caught you staring and he started smirking.

“It’s gonna fit. You’re a good little angel so you’re gonna take me in just right, don’t worry” he told you as he rolled down the condom onto his cock.

Fuck, you could’ve cum right there on the spot after what he said. All you could do was nod and he smiled at you.

He lowered himself on top of you and he started guiding is cock into your hole. You were so wet, there was no resistance. He started to slowly rock into you and pushed more and more of his cock into you. After his third big stroke, he finally pushed all the way into you and bottomed out. You moaned so loudly into your panties. You had never felt anything like this before. You were so fucking full. You couldn’t stop clenching around him. And he was already just as wrecked as you. You could tell by the way he moaned into your neck.

After a few moments, you were ready. You needed him to move, so you moved your hips a bit to signal him.

“Not yet, angel. Please, you have to stop squeezing me like that or I’ll be very embarrassed very soon and this is definitely not the way I want this to end” he told you and you smiled. You did your best to stop squeezing his cock and you began touching his hair as you wrapped yourself even more around him. 

Once he was ready, he finally started to move. He pulled back a bit from you and held your hips in place as he pushed into you with long and hard strokes. He again made sure to find your g-spot as soon as he could and once he did, he sped up his movements. He began the abuse on your g-spot. Fast and hard. He was gonna make you cum like this and so quickly again.

You were holding each other as his pace got faster and harder and you kept your eyes locked in on each other. He kept cussing and whispering praises as you both got closer and closer.

Once he started to feel you squeezing him more and more, he knew you were close and he knew he was right behind you. He bit his lips to lower the volume of his moans and you kept moaning into your panties just as loud as you did before. One of his hands moved from your hips to rub your clit and just that touch sent you over the edge again. As you squeezed him, he came into the condom and moaned into your ear.

After you both came down from your highs, you took your panties out of your mouth and you both just laid there with each other in complete silence as your breaths evened out. All you could hear was the noise from the other room where the award portion of the night seemed to have stopped and the DJ set had started.

He raised his head from your neck, looked into your eyes and kissed you. Not as hard as he had when this all began. It was soft, almost gentle. You could tell he wanted to cherish this moment which you both knew might never happen again. Little did he know, you also wanted to cherish this just as much.

After that kiss, he got up, threw the condom away and got dressed. You cleaned yourself up with some tissue paper that was on the desk and tried to look presentable again. As you took your panties to put them on, he stopped you.

“I’m keeping them, angel” he said as he took the panties from your hand and put them in his jacket pocket. You don’t know why but you didn’t protest. You let him take them. 

“I’ll leave first. Make sure to wait a bit, just in case” he told you and you laughed.

“Even if I went out there with you, there would be no way anyone would think we just snuck out to fuck” you told him and he nodded with a smile on his face.

You waited for about 20 minutes after he left to go back into the ballroom where everyone was now getting hammered and dancing like it was their last night on earth.

You needed a drink. Or several. ‘What the fuck just happened?’ you asked yourself. You just fucked someone you have been hating for five years. Maybe hate was a strong word after all.

“You’re back! Where the fuck were you?” an already drunk Hoshi asked you.

“Sorry, was pissed off but then I remembered I made you guys a promise so I came back” you told him and he smiled. 

“Catch up then. You are several drinks behind and Clara has been asking for her dancing twin” Hoshi added before he started to dance away from you and back to the dancefloor. If you were going to live up to Clara’s loving nickname, you would need to catch up indeed. There is no way you were about to make a fool out of yourself in front of your colleagues sober.

The rest of the night went as expected. Everyone on your team got way too drunk and you ended up just a bit buzzed and babysitting them all. It was okay though. They needed this more than you at this point and that was very clear. At the end of the night, you practically had to drag them all into their Ubers. You got help from Seungcheol and Jeonghan who were also very drunk but trying to be as helpful as possible. 

The weekend went by fast. And next thing you know it’s Monday again. You were nervous going into work for the first time in years. You didn’t know what to expect from Jeonghan. Would he ignore you? Would the usual behavior stop? Would he tell everyone and embarrass you? You had no idea. You didn’t think he was that cruel but you never knew what was going on inside his head. He was always so hard to read and in this situation it might bite you in the ass.

To your surprise, the next two weeks passed by without any incidents. Jeonghan had apologized to you in front of both of your teams and told everyone he would be more patient and cooperative in finding solutions that worked for everyone. At first, everyone was shocked and a bit suspicious at the whole situation. They were all asking you what happened and what changed and you didn’t know what to say. You told them about what you had said to your boss and to his boss in the last meeting you four had had and they all agreed he probably saw the error of his ways then.

You knew better. You knew what had happened between the two of you after that meeting. You want to know if that’s what made him change but you haven’t had the opportunity to ask him yet. And, you were also nervous to ask him.

Now that your teams were closer, you actually started to have lunch together at the company’s cafeteria. It was weird at first. But now everyone is over that initial weirdness and you actually enjoy having lunch with all of them. Jeonghan’s team is funny. You already knew Seungcheol and Wonwoo well, but now you got to know Silvia and Joshua more. They were absolute sweethearts and you felt bad you hadn’t gotten to know them better earlier. 

Jeonghan had never brought it up with you. Whatever happened between the two of you. You would never admit it to him but you were disappointed. You were hoping this wasn’t going to be a one time thing. Especially now that he has become a great colleague and partner at work. You see him in a whole different light now and you wished he felt the same way. But you were stubborn. You were definitely not going to tell him.

Today, during lunch time, Clara decided to be Clara and show her true colors for the first time in front of Jeonghan and his team.

“Hey, Y/N, did you ever fuck, Jackson at the quarter party? There was some suggestion of that and you did disappear for a while…” she said and everyone whipped their heads to look at her.

Jeonghan’s team was shocked and staring at Clara. Jeonghan however, was staring at you and you alone. He looked angry.

“Clara, please stop being yourself in front of the other team. They don’t know you’re clinically insane” you said as you scolded her.

“What? It was a fair question. He has always wanted to get into your pants and he’s hot. If you haven’t already, you should go for it” she added and Hoshi laughed.

“Clara how can you know so much around the office but not know the reason why Jackson wanted to bone Y/N” Hoshi said and you groaned and made a disgusted face.

“Even I know there was a bet within the IT team to fuck Y/N” Sunny added and Clara looked disgusted.

“Okay. I was wrong. Never listen to me again, Y/N” she said and you laughed.

“It’s funny that you think I would ever listen to you when it comes to people I would fuck” you said and they all laughed. Except Jeonghan. He was not amused by this conversation at all and he seemed to get in a worse mood when Jackson decided to walk up to your tables.

“It’s so nice to see my favorite teams finally together. What a happy ending for everyone” Jackson said and everyone greeted him and nodded in agreement. He then turned to you and you could swear you felt Jeonghan move his chair closer to yours.

“Hey, Y/N. I have tickets for the premiere of the movie you mentioned you wanted to see a while back and wanted to ask if you would like to join me Thursday night?” Jackson asked and everyone went silent. You could cut the tension with a knife.

“No, thanks, Jackson. But have a great time, I heard the movie is amazing” you said politely as you began clearing your tray and got up to leave. Jackson and both teams were looking at each other awkwardly before Jackson spoke up.

“That could’ve gone better… Anyway, have a good day guys” 

“I don’t get what is so hard about understanding a simple no. He’s heard it so many times from her yet he won’t stop annoying her” Seokmin said as everyone started clearing out.

Everyone left to continue their work day. You were in your office prepping for the interdepartmental meeting later today between your team and Jeonghan. Even if he has been nicer lately, you always want to make sure you leave him no room to say no.

Today, it would be Seokmin presenting his ideas for a new account your company got and it was his first time presenting solo. You needed it to go well so that Seokmin gained the confidence to do this more often. But, because the universe hates you, the presentation did not go well at all. Jeonghan had chosen to be insufferable again and go back to his old ways. He kept vetoing all of Seokmin’s plans left and right with the most ridiculous of reasons and you reached your boiling point when he started interrupting Seokmin before he could explain his reasoning as well.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today? Are you back on your bullshit? If so, I would appreciate it if my team gets the memo next time” you asked Jeonghan and everyone went silent. Here we go again.

“Don’t start with me, Y/N. This wasn’t a good presentation. Most of his ideas are flawed and not reasonable at all for this client. Go back, review and come back to us” Jeonghan told you as he got up to leave.

“You’re forgetting you’re not our boss, Jeonghan. We don’t work for your team. We work with your team. You are the one that needs to go back, review the content and come up with a reasonable and logical explanation on why you want to veto all of this. Have fun” you told him as you signaled to your team to get up and leave with you.

“That’s it? No fight? Just sending me back to review things? Can’t handle me anymore, Y/N? I should’ve known… Last time, you barely handled what I gave you” he said teasingly and you stopped in your tracks. You walked towards Jeonghan and both your teams moved away from the both of you. They knew better than to get involved. 

You knew that last comment wasn’t about the last meeting you had and the last time you fought. It was about that night. He was smirking now. You needed to wipe that smirk off his face. 

“Oh I handled it perfectly well. In fact, if I remember correctly, I handled it so well that someone was ready to tap out very prematurely… How embarrassing…” you told him and he was no longer smirking. Perfect.

“Are we still talking about work?” Hoshi whispered to Joshua.

“I fucking hope so” Joshua said out loud and it snapped you out of staring at Jeonghan. You started to move towards your team and leave the meeting room.

“Like I said, review and come back to us. With data. No more of this theoretical bullshit or ‘I’ll take this up the chain if I have to’” you said as you mocked him from what he had once told you.

That felt good. Your team started to laugh and cheer on Seokmin after you left the meeting room. Before everyone went back to their desk on the floor, you decided to have a word with Seokmin. You didn’t want him to overthink this.

“Seokmin, can we have a word in my office, please?” you asked him and he nodded and smiled at you. You both walked to your office and sat down on the corner couch you had.

“Don’t take this personally, and don’t you dare think you did a bad job. If your ideas had not been good, I wouldn’t have let you present them. None of the team members would have. He’s probably having a bad day and wanted to take it out on you. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” you asked him and he nodded.

“I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. I know I’m the only one that hasn’t done this by myself and I don’t want to disappoint the team” he said with a sad smile.

“You could never disappoint any of us. Their team will review and we will reach a good compromise. I’m sure most of your plans for this account will come through. Let him get over himself” you said and you both laughed.

“Thank you” he added and you hugged each other.

After Seokmin left your office, you rushed to get your reports done to leave on time. You had an exhausting day and both Jackson and Jeonghan had decided to piss you off today. You needed your bed desperately. Your boss needed the final reports today and you had spent most of your time helping Seokmin prep. You were very late and you didn’t know if you would be able to finish them on time. But, no matter how tired you were, you were too proud to not do your job properly. 

You sent your boss a message letting her know you wouldn’t be able to deliver the reports before 6PM but that you would finish them tonight. You also told her since it was poor time management on your side, you would do the overtime without any additional pay needed. Maybe not the smartest decision but it’s your decision to make. Your boss agreed with the promise you wouldn’t stay too late. She was incredible.

6PM came around and everyone had either left the office or was about to and you were jealous. You had a headache and needed a break. You were halfway through and you decided a power nap was needed. ‘This is why you got that couch’ you thought.

You took a 30 minute nap and got back to work. You ordered dinner and ate at your desk while you finished your reports. By 9PM you were done. Finally. You can go home to your shower and bed. You couldn’t wait.

Except the universe was never kind to you and someone was knocking at your office door. You hoped it was the cleaning crew kicking you out so you told them to come in.

“Working late? Thought I was the only one left here” Jeonghan said as he walked into your office and locked the door behind him. He was leaning on your desk with his arms crossed as you started getting your purse and jacket to leave.

“That’s what happens when you’re an asshole. You get to stay late and review your mistakes. Good news is you must have made a lot of extra money with the overtime hours you rack up” you told him and you signaled him to move to the door.

“You’re not leaving yet. Come here” he told you and it surprised you. 

You didn’t particularly like being told what to do, and never by him. This time it felt different though. The air felt like it did the night of the party. Since the party he hadn’t tried anything with you at all. You assumed this was never going to happen again. That he got what he wanted and that was it. So why was he standing here now, asking you to move closer to him?

He sighed and uncrossed his arms to place them on your desk.

“Come closer, angel. Don’t fight me, you know you want to be closer to me just as much as I want to be closer to you right now” Jeonghan said and you audibly gulped. Fuck… Why does he have to call you angel and why do you like it so much? You were doomed at this rate.

You took your jacket off and placed it and your purse on the hanger close to the door. You walked towards him until you were close enough to feel his breath on you.

“You’ve been staying away from me since that night. So why now, Jeonghan?” you asked him. You wanted to know what was on his mind. Why he hadn’t tried getting closer to you until today.

“I assumed it was a one time thing. I thought you were gonna regret it and tell me it was a mistake. I didn’t want to hear that. Ignorance is bliss, I guess” he answered and you nodded.

“So why tonight? What made you take the chance of getting turned down?” you asked teasingly.

“I don’t like Jackson. At lunch, that whole scene made me… Angry. After our meeting I had time to think. Your snarky comment about our night together and your brutal rejection of Jackson made it clear for me. If you were going to reject me, you would’ve done it at the party” he told you as he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Bold of you to assume that just because I let you fuck me that night, I wouldn’t reject you now” 

“Do it then, Y/N. Tell me to fuck off. I will leave and never bother you again”

You stayed silent.

He nodded and began to move away from you. You grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving.

He turned around, stepped closer to you and kissed you. It was just like that first kiss at the party. He was grabbing your neck and your hip and pulling you impossibly close to him and you were pulling him just as close to you.

“The cleaning crew is going to be here soon. Why do you only let me fuck you like this? In a hurry? You’re unfair, angel” 

“It’s your fault too. Of all the days and times to come here and fuck me and you chose right now” 

“Don’t worry, now that I know you’ll let me keep fucking you, we’ll have plenty of time to make up for it, angel” he said as he moved you both towards your desk.

When you reached your desk, he turned you around so your back was against his chest. He moved your hair out of the way and dove in to kiss your neck. You were already beginning to moan. It had been too long since he fucked you. You should’ve told him you wanted more right after that night. He bent you over your desk and started to rub his clothed hard cock against your ass. He took his tie off and kept rubbing himself on you.

“You can’t be loud again, angel. Not tonight” he told you as he moved his tie to your lips. He was going to gag you with his tie. Fuck, you were already dripping and ruining your panties.

You nodded and he placed the tie between your lips. You felt him tighten the tie around the back of your head. Like a leash. You moaned and he laughed. He loved to see you fall apart like this, with the simplest of actions. 

He unbuttoned your pants and pulled all your bottom half clothing down in one swift motion. He spanked you and kept rubbing his hard cock against your bare ass. He held your hip with one hand and moved to rub circles on your clit with the other.

“I love how you're always dripping for me. It makes it hard to believe you when you say you hate me, angel” he said and laughed.

All you could do was moan. He was alternating between rubbing circles on your clit and fingering you. He was spreading your juices everywhere. He wanted to get you as wet as possible but he seemed to be avoiding making you cum right away. Like he wanted to save it. You wiggled your hips. You wanted to cum. He laughed again.

“I’m just getting you ready to take me, angel. You’re cumming on my cock tonight”

After a few minutes of torture, you heard him unzip his pants and move around. You could only assume he was getting naked and getting a condom from the sounds you were hearing.

“You ready, angel?” he asked as he massaged your ass. 

You could feel his cock on your ass now. You were too eager but you couldn’t help yourself. You nodded and said a muffled  ‘please’. Just like you, he couldn’t wait anymore. It had been too long since the last time this happened. He placed his cock against your hole and started to push in impossibly slow.

He kept doing shallow strokes, pushing a bit more of his cock in each time. You had no idea how he was this patient but you couldn’t wait anymore. On one of his shallow strokes you pushed back hard until he bottomed out and you both moaned loudly. Your moan had been muffled but his was not. Fuck, you didn’t want to get caught like this. He spanked you, hard.

“You wanna get caught, hmm? Bad fucking angel…”

You kept squeezing him and trying to move but he was holding you still.

“Fuck, it had been way too long. Have we learned our lesson, angel? You’re gonna let me fuck you whenever we want from now on, right?” he asked and you nodded immediately. He leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Good girl. I’m going to go hard now. Better fucking handle it like you said today hmm? If you need me to stop, tap your desk twice with both hands”

You nodded again and before you were done nodding he started to fuck you hard. You were surprised your desk wasn’t moving at all from the force of his strokes. You started to move back and match his pace and you both started panting fast. You knew much like last time, neither of you would last long. 

He pulled on the makeshift leash to pull back your head and increased his pace. You were getting so close. You just needed a bit more. He moved his hand from your hip to your clit and started rubbing it furiously. You got louder and louder and kept squeezing him tighter and tighter.

“Is my good angel going to cum on my cock? Do it, I need to feel you cum around me again” 

And as soon as he finished his sentence, you came with a cry of his name against the tie. He kept fucking you through your high and you kept squeezing his cock.

He kept whispering ‘fuck’ and ‘good girl’ under his breath. You knew he was getting closer and you started pushing back on him harder and harder. You wanted to push him over the edge. You wanted him to feel the way you feel right now. In perfect bliss. And a few moments later, he came as he leaned over you. He laid his whole body against yours as you both evened out your breaths.

You both got dressed and took turns using the bathroom in your office to clean yourselves. As you were getting ready to leave, you yawned so loud and he laughed at you.

“Don’t you dare make a cocky comment, Jeonghan”

“I won’t but let me take you home, please”

“And let you have my address? You already have my phone number and that’s enough”

He stopped smiling and started to leave as well.

“Hey, I’m joking. That’s what we do, right?” you asked him. You didn’t want him to leave like this.

“Sometimes your words hurt, Y/N. I know I’ve fucked up a lot but I never wanted you to hate me and think this low of me”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful of what I say from now on. Promise. But I don’t want to lose the snarky back and forth between us” 

He smiled. He only wished you would have told him you never have hated him as well.

That night you let him give you a ride home. You were too tired to drive. It was nice. During that car ride you found out he has a beautiful singing voice. You also found out a few more things about him during your conversation. He likes legos and has a pet rock. He, Seungcheol and Joshua are like brothers. And, he loves pranks. This last one you could’ve guessed easily.

You also told him about yourself. You love reading and camping. You also like legos and have a few sets built in your office at home. You scare easily and have to deal with your team constantly jump scaring you because it’s hilarious to see you suffer, apparently.

It was a good drive. When you said your goodbyes, he told you he would text you more and you should do the same. He wanted to get to know you and he wanted to meet up in places he could fuck you slowly and have you be as loud as possible. You smacked his arm after this last comment but you agreed. He was a good guy overall and you were interested in continuing this… Whatever this was. 

For the next month, you met up with him regularly. Usually after work and at his place. He had bent you over his desk and your desk a few times after a heated argument in a meeting but you tried fucking each other in more private places. He loved hearing you scream his name and you loved having him desperate for you. In this month, he had also found out what a tease you were. You enjoyed riling him up and making him wait before he could fuck you. It was a dangerous game but you both loved it this way.

No one at work seemed to notice anything and you didn’t know if Seungcheol and Joshua knew given how close they were to Jeonghan but if they knew, they had been very discreet about it. Jackson kept trying to ask you out and Hana kept following Jeonghan around like a puppy as usual. You had to say this last part wasn’t your favorite. You knew he wasn’t interested but still. She had fucked him before you. And that pissed you off. Jeonghan knows it too and he loves teasing you about it.

One line you haven’t crossed with Jeonghan yet was having him in your apartment. You didn’t know why but you were trying to avoid having him there. It was your space, you loved living there. You were proud of having been able to buy it all on your own. What if one day this ended terribly and then you were stuck with memories of him around that place? You didn’t want to ever be sad inside of that apartment so you tried keeping him away.

Jeonghan wasn’t dumb though. He knew you were trying to keep him away from your apartment. He tried being understanding but he was getting tired of it. This wasn’t fair. You had been in his apartment multiple times. He had fucked you in almost all available surfaces in his apartment and he wanted to do the same in yours. So he did the most Jeonghan thing possible. He texted you asking if you were free and once you said yes he showed up at your door. 

“This is why I didn’t want you to have my address. How did you find out my apartment number?” you asked as you let him in your apartment.

“The same way I got your phone number. A magician never reveals his secrets though” he answered as he took his jacket and shoes off.

You were looking at him moving around your apartment. He was looking at every picture frame, every detail, every room and you just followed him silently through your apartment.

“So this is what you were hiding from me? It’s very you” he said smiling as you both moved towards your bedroom.

“If you knew I was hiding it from you, why would you come here uninvited?” you asked teasingly.

“I don’t like secrets. And you’ve been to my apartment multiple times. It was only fair”

“I should be angry at you, Jeonghan”

You asked him as you moved closer to him.

“But you aren’t angry at all. Isn’t that right, angel?” 

You nodded with a pout on your face and he laughed as he moved your hair away from your face. He kissed you and you started unbuttoning his pants. Between kisses, you undressed each other until you were both completely naked. You kissed down his body until you were on your knees in front of him. You grabbed his cock and started to stroke it. He moved both his hands to your hair and intertwined them. Before he could say anything, you started to lick and suck his tip and he moaned.

“Don’t be a tease tonight, angel”

You batted your eyelashes at him innocently but you did what he asked and you started to suck him off just how he liked it. After a month of meeting up, you had gotten pretty good at fitting as much of his cock down your throat as possible. You were both very fucking proud of it. 

With your hands, you stroked whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth and throat and massaged his balls. That always got him so close. You wanted him to cum more than once tonight. You knew he could. You had talked about it before but he had always held off on it. He came here tonight without your permission, so you were going to make him cum at least twice, you had decided. He pulled you off of him by your hair before you could continue your plan and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“What are you playing at, angel?”

“Want to make you feel good, Jeonghan. Isn’t that why we’re doing this?” you answered him in your most innocent voice but you knew he wasn’t buying it. Before he could protest, you kissed him, deeply.

“Wanna ride you” you whispered against his lips and he groaned before moving away from you towards the bed.

You got a condom and threw it on the bed. He was sitting and leaning on the headboard. After he put the condom on, he signaled you to come over to him and you crawled to him. He whispered ‘good girl’ against your lips and kissed you again. You could never get enough of his kisses. He always kissed you with such passion. Like he could lose you at any moment.

You turned your back to him and placed your legs on either side of him. He hummed and placed both hands on your ass cheeks to massage them.

“Reverse tonight? I wanted to see your pretty face, angel”

You hummed and started to rub your pussy up and down on his cock. You knew he would forget all about looking at your face if you just kept pushing him. And you were right. He held your hips and pulled you closer to his cock. He aligned his cock with your hole and you didn’t wait any longer. You started bouncing on his cock without any warning. By now, you were more than used to his size and even if it stung a little bit you wanted to push him tonight. You were going to get what you wanted. You kept up an agonizing pace, bouncing hard and fast and you could hear his pants and grunts getting louder and louder. He placed both hands on your hips and tried to change your pace.

“Slow down, let me enjoy this, angel”

You shook your head no and kept going. His hands tried resisting your movements at first but after a few more bounces he gave up and let you speed up again. You started to touch your clit to get you to cum faster. You knew having you cum on his cock always made him cum as well. You were getting closer and you could tell he was too by the way he was squeezing your ass with both his hands and by the sounds he was making. He calls you angel all the time but he’s the one that sounds like an angel even in the most depraved of moments.

You kept rubbing your clit until you came. He came right after you into the condom with a grunt of your name. After you both started to come down from your highs, you felt good enough to keep going. He was still hard and once he tried moving underneath you, you stopped him by bouncing on his cock again. You started your rhythm back up, merciless and you heard him whine. You had never heard him make that noise before and you needed to hear it again. You weren’t going to stop. He was going to cum inside you again. You were going to make sure of it.

After your initial bounces, he spanked you hard.

“I knew you were up to something. Want to get more of my cum, hmm? One load is not good enough for you angel?” he asked between moans and you kept going. Harder. Faster. And he snapped.

He pushed you off of him and on all fours. He took the condom off, threw it on the ground and slapped your pussy hard. You moaned his name. 

“You want another one? Better fucking take it all then”

He pushed his cock into you completely. Your elbows gave out on you and he took the chance to push your head down on the mattress with his hand as he started to fuck you hard. 

Usually you would need more to cum, but his dominant aura, the way he pushed you down on the mattress and the way he’s fucking you raw are just enough and you cum again. This time your hands are grabbing the bed sheets desperately and you are whining and moaning. That was fucking intense and Jeonghan didn’t stop.

He kept fucking you hard. His moans and grunts get louder and louder. He pulled out and started stroking his cock with his free hand. After a couple of strokes he came on your back. You could feel rope after rope of cum just painting your back and you couldn’t stop smiling. You both laid there exhausted for a bit before he got up and cleaned you up. 

“I’m guessing that’s what you wanted to achieve tonight” he said as he laid next to you on the bed again.

“Hmm… That’s what you get for coming here uninvited”

“If that’s your way of trying to keep me away from here, you’re doing a piss poor job at it, angel” he said and you both laughed.

You didn’t know why, but after that night things felt different. All lines had been crossed between you. Before it had felt like there was a separation between whatever was going on with you and Jeonghan and the rest of your life. But after that night everything felt intertwined. You didn’t know how to feel about it. So you decided maybe some time apart would be best for the two of you.

You didn’t want to tell him this. If there was one thing you had learned about Jeonghan in the time you spent together was that he could be quite sensitive and misinterpret your words. You didn’t want that to happen so you simply replied to him saying you were tired or busy and couldn’t meet up. He seemed to understand. You had successfully avoided him but you hadn’t sorted out your feelings yet. But it didn’t matter. Tonight was your team building monthly dinner and you were going to focus on them only. 

You were running late and your team started texting you non-stop. You had to reassure them you were on your way. You were usually never late so you understood where their concerns were coming from. 

Your Uber stopped in front of the restaurant and in the rush of getting out of it and joining your team, you ran into a couple getting into the restaurant. You apologized without even getting a proper look at them and start to go into the restaurant but a familiar voice calls you back.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Hana said excitedly.

You looked at her and the person next to her and you had to blink a few times to make sure you were actually seeing this. You didn’t say a word. Hana started looking between you and Jeonghan and cleared her throat. You finally looked back at her.

“We're having our team dinner here” you said dryly. 

“We would join you but we are on a date! Have a great team dinner and say hi to everyone for us” she said excitedly and all you could do was nod.

The three of you silently walked into the restaurant and you spotted your team right away. You walked over to the table and tried your best to pretend whatever you just saw didn’t bother you. This wasn’t the time or the place. Whatever you felt had to be sorted much later on.

You weren’t at your best during this team dinner and your team could tell. They didn’t say anything because they knew you were trying your best. You still joined your team for bowling and tried having as much fun as possible. 

You didn’t know what happened to Jeonghan and Hana. You couldn’t see their table from yours and you didn’t see them leave before you did. You were… Confused. You never established anything. You never said you were exclusive. You never said you were going to date other people but it somehow felt like he had lied to you. He always told you he wasn’t interested in Hana. Why did he lie? And how long had they been dating? Was he fucking you while dating her? You honestly didn’t know if you wanted to find out. You knew it was time to end whatever had been happening between the two of you. You were surprised Jeonghan hadn’t messaged you or tried to contact you at all. But maybe that was for the best.

You weren’t much of a believer in getting signs from the universe, but after not talking to Jeonghan at all for the past week about the restaurant incident, you got what would be considered by many, a sign. 

Your boss called you into her office and made you an offer. The branch four hours away from yours had been struggling to find a good team lead and a good manager for their marketing department. While she explained to you, you couldn’t move up to department manager just yet, you would have the opportunity to do so in the future if you joined them now at the team lead level. You both knew your boss wasn’t going to go anywhere any time soon. She was the manager of the marketing department and she had just been promoted when you were. If you wanted to move up to manager soon, your best option would be to accept this offer. However, you wouldn’t accept it without speaking to your team first.

Long story short, your team was pissed. Hoshi yelled at you for the first time in his life and both Clara and Sunny cried. Seokmin seemed to be holding it together pretty well, surprisingly. 

“I know this isn’t ideal… But it’s a great opportunity for me. And, it doesn’t mean I’m staying there permanently. I have to try though, you know that” you said as you tried to calm Hoshi down.

“You better not like your team over there more than us” Seokmin said with a sad smile.

“Never. We’re the dream team” you reassured him. 

It took you a while but you were able to calm Hoshi down. You promised you would visit as much as possible and offered your place for them to stay when they visit you as well. 

One thing you had asked your team and your boss was to not let anyone know you were leaving. You planned on telling everyone on your last day. You have always hated goodbyes. And this one was going to hurt. You met a lot of great people here and you had a lot of adventures and stories you will cherish for the rest of your life, but it was time to move on. 

It had been two weeks since you accepted the offer and today was your last day at this branch. Your team had been moping around for these two weeks and everyone wanted to know why. It has been fun watching them make up lies to cover for you. It was your last team prank in a sense to this branch. In these two weeks, you and Jeonghan hadn’t spoken at all. No texts, no calls, no meeting up. He didn’t say anything and you didn’t ask.

At the end of the day, everyone gathered in the conference room at the request of your boss. No one knew why except you, your team and her. You knew a lot of them would be angry at you. You had gotten pretty close with Jeonghan’s team, particularly with Seungcheol and Joshua and they would probably never forgive you for not saying anything sooner. Especially Seungcheol. 

“Hey everyone. I know it’s the end of the day and everyone wants to go home and relax but bare with me for a few moments” your boss told everyone and everyone went silent.

“I know most of you are wondering why this meeting was booked on your calendars two weeks ago and what this meeting is about. Apologies for the secrecy, but the subject of this meeting asked me and her team to stay quiet about it until today” she continued and looked over at you. At this point, everyone on your team had tears running down their face and you were holding back tears of your own.

“Unbeknownst to most of you, today was the last day working at this branch of one of our best employees and someone I can honestly call a cherished friend. I wish I could say more but I don’t want to start crying like the rest of your team so please, say a few words, Y/N” she said as she looked over at you. You heard a few gasps and confused looks as you got up to say goodbye to all your colleagues.

“Hi everyone. So, a couple of weeks ago I got offered an opportunity at a different branch. An opportunity that will open several different doors for me professionally and I chose to accept it” you said as you looked at your team. You couldn’t look at anyone else.

“I asked my team and my amazing boss to keep this between us because honestly, I hate goodbyes. I didn’t want to spend the two weeks I had left here with sad goodbyes. I know it was selfish of me so I humbly stand here asking for your forgiveness” you continued and your team laughed with you.

“I had an amazing time working at this branch. I’ve grown so much professionally and personally. I made enemies that later became… Not enemies. I thought I hated some of you but I never did. Let’s call it a strong dislike” you said and laughed.

“I’m thankful for each and every one of you, no matter what. To my team and to my boss, you guys know everything already so just want to say thank you again. Now get out of here and enjoy your night. I have a four hour drive to make, so don’t try and persuade me to go for drinks!” you finished your speech and your team got up to hug you. 

Everyone started to say goodbye to you and you found out you were right. Joshua and Seungcheol were angry at you to say the least. Especially Seungcheol. But you made them forgive you before you had to leave. 

You never saw Jeonghan. You didn’t know if he hadn’t been in the meeting at all or if he had left once you were done with your speech. You were disappointed. You wanted to say goodbye at least. He had been a big part of your time here, more in the last few months but I guess he didn’t think the same if he wasn't even going to say a quick goodbye to you.

After your office was packed, you and your team went back to your place to help you load everything into your car for you to leave. You had a few boxes you were going to ship to you or wait for someone to visit to bring them to you but overall, you managed to successfully pack most of your favorite belongings and you were ready to leave.

You were going to miss this apartment. Other than your career, it had been your biggest achievement. You had been able to buy it and make it your own. You weren’t getting rid of it for now. Not unless you needed the money desperately. You were moving into your uncle’s apartment that was vacated recently so you wouldn't be paying rent at your new place and you could afford to keep your beloved apartment.

Hoshi loved that idea, it comforted him knowing you wanted to return to this apartment eventually and hopefully to the branch and your team. 

As you were loading things into your car, you got a text from Jeonghan.

“I’m sorry. You deserve better. I hope one day you can forgive me and we can talk. About everything. I couldn’t say goodbye. Not to you. Drive safe and good luck on this new adventure, angel”

You didn’t know you had started crying until the tears hit the screen of your phone.

You didn’t hate Jeonghan. You never did. He made your life hell for a long time but he also managed to bring heaven to you in the last months you spent together. You didn’t blame him for the way things ended. You never talked about your relationship and whatever was going on between the two of you. You had both failed each other.

Maybe one day you would meet again and you would talk about everything. Maybe even have a happy ending together.

Or maybe you will never meet again and this was just another chapter in your life.

Either way, you were content. You weren’t sad or disappointed anymore.

You didn’t get permanent closure in a lot of things but you were ready for this new adventure and his text made you feel better about the decision you made. 

You did this for you and your career, it was never about him. Your time together had simply ended at the same time this opportunity presented itself and you both knew that.

For now, you were just another girl that had been in his life for a while and that was moving away looking for a better career opportunity. 

And he was just another guy that had been in your life for a while creating chaos in the worst and the best way and that was staying behind.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Hey guys! I hope you guys enjoy this one. It took me a while to finish it but I’m really proud of it 😇💕 I know it’s super long but I realized I might not ever be able to write short fics, specially when it comes to Hannie 😭 The request asked for a cliffhanger ending so I hope I stayed true to that. If you liked this fic and/or if you want a more permanent resolution to this couple, please let me know in the comments and such 💕 Thank you for supporting me! CHEERS 🥂

PS: You can find part 2 here

#jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #seventeen #jeonghan fic #seventeen fic #svt #svt fic #svt smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x you #svt x reader #svt x you #anon request #vee's writings

[wonusite]

I Hate U, I Love U

❝ After finally managing to escape the lifelong rivalry you once had with Yoon Jeonghan, you’re unexpectedly thrown back into the undesirable feud after receiving a scholarship to the most prestigious private school in the city. Despite your attempts to leave the past in the past, you discover too late that you’re the only one interested in letting the vendetta go. Years later, there’s a switch in dynamic when you’re the one unwilling to let it go. ❞

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x female reader

WORD COUNT: 20.8k

GENRE: enemies to lovers au, rich kid au, college au, model au, fake dating au, angst, (tiniest bit of) fluff, smut

WARNINGS: they’re in high school at the beginning of this, rich boy!jeonghan, frat boy!jeonghan, former rich girl!reader, model!reader, classism, asshole parents, drinking, scheming, mild violence (1 slap), reader and jeonghan are pretty terrible to each other, repressed feelings, revenge is a recurring theme in this, lots of arguing, star-crossed lovers vibes, heavy on the regret, jealousy, fake relationship (but real feelings oops), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pussy drunk!hannie, cockdrunk!reader, multiple creampies, squirting, overstimulation

a/n: still can’t believe i sat down and wrote this much. hope you guys like it! based on this request (sorry it took so long rip). minors dni!!

You can still remember the exact way you felt when your family lost everything and was left in poverty. Back then, your reality had become a twilight zone that left you feeling misplaced. Fate was cruel to make that exact feeling resurface now as you’re standing at the gates of your new school.

An emotion that could’ve been written off as typical anxiety from being the new kid is actual nerves caused by the unhealthy obsession your parents have with reclaiming the status your family once had. Inexplicably, they both believed the main way to do this is to be better than the Yoon family.

Embarrassing as it is, this fixation of theirs dates back to before you were born. In particular, it’s your mom’s unrelenting need to be better than the Yoons that got you into this unfavorable situation in the first place. She can’t be fully blamed, though. Everything dates back the feud her first husband (your father) has been part of since he was a kid.

As a child, you didn’t fully understand how deep the hatred ran. You also didn’t realize that being the heir to your family’s fortune meant that their vendetta had become your burden to bear (and somehow still was). Naively, you believed everything was over the moment your family was left with nothing. It wasn’t until you were leaving your house that your mom made it clear she still expected you go head-to-head with the heir of the Yoon family.

Believing that Yoon Jeonghan would still be willing to partake in a petty rivalry with you isn’t realistic, but your mom is beyond seeing reason at this point. Restoring the prestige of your family name came before anything now (even reality). In your mom’s eyes, beating the only son of the Yoon family seems to be the only way to do it.

This new-but-not-new obligation is the reason you can’t stifle the sick feeling that overcomes you as you walk through the front gates of the most prestigious private school in the city.

The campus is larger and more extravagant in person. Every single thing—from the wide pathways to the elegant topography—screams money. Students are scattered in front of the building, clad in the expensive uniform that’s currently draped over your own frame. The sight of designer bags, stylish shoes, and glamorous jewelry is a reminder of what once was and will never be again.

As if that daunting fact isn’t enough to make the dread in your gut paralyze you with anxiety, the cold looks you get are. Maybe you’re paranoid, or maybe people are actually sneering at you because they recognize you. Either way, this feeling of wanting to disappear doesn’t go away.

You stop walking to dig in the pocket of your jacket to pull out your phone. It’s a pathetic attempt to look like you’re not a total outsider who would rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, your actions don’t provide you with the comfort you’re looking for. You wonder if hiding somewhere inside would stifle the nerves you feel. As fate (and your rotten luck) would have it, you don’t get a chance to make that decision.

In a sudden instant, you feel a body collide with your own. You recoil with a surprised gasp when a hot liquid spills all over your chest and torso. The distinct smell makes you panic. Coffee stains are the worst kind, and you just know your mom is going kill you if the uniform she worked so hard to pay for is ruined. Panic seeps into your chest as you start to wipe at your wet clothes without looking up. It’s futile, but just thinking about the consequences that you’re going to face if the overpriced uniform got ruined makes you want to throw up.

“What the fuck!?” The loud yell draws the attention of all the people within the spacious vicinity. “Watch where you’re going, you fucking idiot!”

You furrow your eyebrows angrily, and before you can lift your head to see who’s yelling, you feel an empty cup hit your feet. The remnants of the coffee splatter on your shoes and the lower part of your shins. Somehow, you feel cold despite the coffee being scorching hot.

The surprised guffaws and gasps seem muffled because of how loud your heartbeat is. A yell of your own is building in your throat, but when you look up, you’re suddenly at a complete loss for words. It all feels like some horrible nightmare because you find yourself looking at a face that you never wanted to see again.

Like a scene out of a cheesy movie, your (former) sworn enemy is standing right in front of you.

For some inexplicable reason, you can’t find your voice. You can only stare at Jeonghan with a dumb expression on your face. The embarrassment and anger you feel clash together and whirl inside you like a tornado, but even the intensity of your emotions isn’t enough to get you to express them in the way you want.

Jeonghan feels very pleased with himself until the unknown girl lifts her head. He blinks once, twice, and a third time. This doesn’t have the effect he desires because the image of you isn’t going away. Many years have passed since he last saw you, but he could never forget your face. Jeonghan might’ve thought he was dropped in the middle of some bizarre dream if it wasn’t for the harsh hammering of his heart. It really is you standing in front of him, looking like you’re two seconds away from murdering him.

“What the hell is your problem?” You seeth, no longer able to push down all the anger you’re feeling. “You’re the one who ran into me, asshole!”

Never in your life had you seen someone turn so red in the span of two seconds. You briefly wonder why Jeonghan feels so embarrassed when it’s you who’s dripping in coffee with what feels like the entire world laughing at your expense.

“Y/N?” His voice is incredulous. “What are you doing here?”

It’s a stupid question to ask considering the fact that you’re literally wearing the school issued uniform and have a school bag slung over your shoulders, but you know what Jeonghan actually means: How is it possible that someone like you is attending this school?

You aren’t about to dignify him with an answer since it seems like the watching crowd is itching for a show. Giving him a reaction is only going to make you look crazy, and you won’t give him or anyone else that satisfaction. It seems like you’re the only one that feels this way, though.

“You can’t hand wash the uniform. It has to be dry cleaned.”

Once again, the snickers and mocking whispers sound deafening. Instead of punching him in the mouth like you want, you somehow convince yourself to keep a level head. “Whatever. Move.” You snap before shoving past the stunned boy.

Once you get away from that embarrassing scene and find a bathroom, you shrug off your jacket to assess the damage. A scowl brings down the edges of your lips when you see the dark stains the coffee left behind. With an aggravated sigh, you glance down at your uniform. The front part is somewhat damp and a bit dirty, but luckily for you (and your mom’s bank account) the stains aren’t too prominent.

You take a deep breath before lifting your head and squaring your shoulders. It doesn’t matter that this already feels like the worst day ever, you can’t lose sight of the goal your mom has in mind. And you definitely can’t let Jeonghan of all people derail those plans. Playing into his petty games isn’t something you can afford to do anymore. Not that you want to, anyway.

When you finally calm down and decide to face the day, you find Jeonghan standing outside the bathroom, waiting for you. His shocked gaze from before is long gone and replaced with a hostile one you're more familiar with.

“I guess the standards of the scholarship program have hit an all time low.” He says as he falls into step beside you. “Do you really think coming here is going to change anything? Someone like you doesn’t belong here.”

You try your hardest to ignore him, but he keeps following you. Briefly, you wonder why it seems like he’s eager to pick up where you two left off. Were his parents thinking the same thing as yours, or was this something he was doing on his own?

“I’m talking to you.”

Finally, you stop and turn to him with a mean glare on your face. “I can see the years have done nothing for that pea-sized brain of yours. No matter how much you want me gone, I’m not going anywhere.”

“If you think you’ll somehow claw your way back up the social ladder, you can get rid of that pathetic idea right now.” Jeonghan all but growls, feeling a type of anxiousness he hasn’t in years. “You don’t belong in this world anymore, and you never will.”

Maybe he was right, but that doesn’t matter. You’re not thinking of running away, especially from him. “Scared I’m gonna take your spot at the table?”

“Yeah, right.” He laughs, but it doesn’t sound as confident as he wants. “Someone like you will never take anything from me.”

You look at him and let out a contemptuous laugh. It had been years, but Jeonghan had remained painfully unchanging. The crazed look in his eyes and tone of voice makes you smirk. “You are scared.”

Jeonghan practically has steam coming out of his ears. He can’t say anything, and he’s not entirely sure why. You’re not at the same level as him anymore, but that doesn’t seem to shake any of that annoying self-confidence you’ve always had. Ironically, it feels like he’s the one on unsteady ground. An anxious feeling seeps into his stature because it’s like he can already hear his dad’s disappointed voice for letting you of all people shake him up.

“Well, you should be.” You say, wanting to get under his skin. “Because I don’t need money to get the things I want.”

Maybe those words triggered a reaction out of Jeonghan that was deeper than you realized, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as you got accepted into the private school, your fate was sealed.

The day doesn’t get much better for you as it goes on. Studying amongst the blue bloods wouldn’t be so bad if you happened to be a regular poor person, but since you and your entire family fell from grace all those years ago, you don’t have the luxury of going unnoticed. Their sly comments and sneers don’t hurt, but they are unbearably annoying.

Expectedly, you’ve made no new friends. Nearly every person looks at you like you’re an unwanted parasite, and you have a strong inkling that it has everything to do with what happened with Jeonghan in the morning. It’s not surprising, but it makes you feel more alone than you expect.

When the school day is finally over and you think you can finally get away from all the turmoil you’re feeling, you walk out the building to see the one person who can make this day even worse. Your dad isn’t alone. He’s accompanied by his wife and her son, Seokmin. You barely have time to digest seeing him after so long before he’s turning his head in your direction and makes eye contact.

In a split second, his smile falters until it’s completely wiped off his face. The oh shit look he has on his face makes an unmistakable revulsion force its way up your throat. Many would feel comforted by the sight of their father approaching them, but all you can feel is the dislike and lack of affection you have for him. Briefly, you wonder why he thinks it’s a good idea to come up to you when it’s clear he didn’t know that it was also your first day of school.

“Y/N.” The way he speaks your name is awkward and unsure. “What are you doing here?”

If one more person asked you that, you swear you were going to rip your hair out. Instead of snarking at him to use his fucking eyes and take a look at what you’re wearing, you respond as calmly as you can. “I applied for a scholarship last year.” You tell him, feeling like you might cry. “Mom said she left you a message.”

The grimace on his face makes you feel stupid and embarrassed, but you can’t walk away like you want. It feels like your feet are rooted to the ground, and there’s also the (not so) tiny fact that your mom would never forgive you if you walked away.

“I... I was going to call, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from me.”

You’re tempted to tell him that you know he hasn’t given you a single thought in the last four years. It’s blatantly obvious that his stepson is vastly more important to him than you are. You know that, and it no longer hurts as much as it used to.

“Mom said she called you last week.” You repeat, trying not to let your voice give away all the emotions brewing inside you. “She wants us to have dinner together tonight.”

His remorseful expression changes, and you know that he’s about to make things difficult for you all over again. “Y/N, today isn’t—”

“Never mind.” You cut him off, not in the mood to hear his excuses. “Your family is waiting for you, and mom’s waiting for me at home.”

Your dad’s wounded expression doesn’t make you feel anything. Especially not when you notice Jeonghan and his idiot friends gawking at you from afar. You don’t give your dad a chance to respond before you turn on your heel and walk away, hoping the angry tears poking the back of your eyes don’t fall before you get out of their line of sight.

The trip home is longer than usual now that you have to take two buses instead of one. It gives you time to think, although, you wish you didn’t have so much time to ponder your rampant thoughts. All you want to do is get home and sleep off the exhausting day you had.

Unfortunately for you, the universe had other plans that went directly against your wishes.

Directly in front of your apartment building, you can see your mom waiting for you. She has a pensive look on her face that can easily been mistaken with vexation, but you can’t be sure when it comes to the same woman who never reacts the way you expect her to. It’s rare to see a bright expression on your mother’s face these days, but she beams as soon as she sees you approaching.

“Y/N!” She hurries over to you with expectant eyes. “Did you see your father?”

You wish she didn’t look so excited as you nod silently, but her eyes seem to shine as she continues with her questioning. “How did it go? Did he agree to come tonight?”

Of course she only cares about that. Not how your day at a new school was or if you were adjusting well. She didn’t care if you liked the school nor was she interested to know if you made any friends. It’s not disappointing anymore, just irritating.

“He didn’t know that I got a scholarship.” Like she told you a month ago. “He didn’t even show up to see me.”

The excited smile slips off your mom’s face instantly. Her gaze turnes dark as a deep frown settles on her features. “What? How could you be so stupid?” Her voice rises into a hysteric yell. “I ask you to do one thing, and you can’t even do that right!”

You clench your jaw as if that will somehow relieve the anger that’s washing over you. Her degrading words are nothing new, but today it’s getting to you more than usual. “It’s not my fault he wants nothing to do with us. I told you—”

“Shut up.” She growls. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I knew I couldn’t count on you.”

A humorless laugh rips from your throat before you can stop it. “Then you should’ve talked to him yourself instead of making me do it since you’re the one who wants to beg him for money.”

Knowing exactly how to get a reaction out of your mom is always satisfactory, until it isn’t. “I’m only doing this for you! Do you think I want to beg him for money after he abandoned me? All I’ve done since he left is try to give you a better life, and I’m sick of you punishing me for it!”

You could’ve laughed at the absurdity of her words. How could she think that when all these years it felt like you were the one being punished? Instead of telling her some overdue truths, you let out a quiet scoff. “Whatever. He wasn’t going to agree to come no matter what I said to him, and you know it.”

Her silence feels like a victory, but it’s a temporary one. “What I know is that you’re only capable of disappointing me.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before your mom brushes past you with an infuriated scowl. You look back angrily, watching her storm into the building. There’s a familiar anger burning fiercely in your chest as the argument lingers in your mind. She’s not worth your anger, but you can’t stop the overflow of every ugly emotion you’ve been bottling up since the morning.

Things don’t get better after that first day.

Unfortunately for you, going to the city’s most expensive private school doesn’t get any easier with time. The year passes by slowly, and you can’t truly enjoy it because you’re either studying or working. It’s hard to do both, but you aren’t left with much of a choice since your new school brought about unexpected expenses that your mom can’t afford to pay for alone.

As the months pass by, you wonder if all your hard work is really worth it. This dangerous thought lingers in your mind when you get to school on a rainy day after missing your first bus. You’re wet, cold, and tired. After pulling an all-nighter because you had to study for your history test, you’re not in the best mood. And because you apparently had the worst luck ever, Lee Seokmin just has to approach you to remind you that your dad’s birthday is just around the corner.

“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” You wonder as you half-heartedly shove books into your locker.

“I just...” Seokmin’s voice is meek and nervous. “Are you going to come to his party this time?”

It’s funny that he assumed you were invited this time or any of the other times. “No. I have work that day.”

It’s not exactly a lie. Despite not knowing what day the celebration would be, you knew that you’d either be busy studying or working. Not that this seems to click with the trust fund brat that was abnormally attached to your father.

“You can’t ask for the day off? It would mean a lot to dad if you came.”

His sentence makes your chest and stomach tighten with incredulity and annoyance because it’s so out of touch with reality. You can’t even laugh or feel angry. It’s tempting to tell him that you know your dad couldn’t care less if you went to his birthday party since he hadn’t even bothered to tell you when or where it was happening. Somehow, you manage to stifle your growing ire to respond civilly.

“It’s not like he’s going to be devastated if I don’t go.” You say calmly despite wanting to express the emotions that keep gnawing at your chest.

Seokmin frowns at your impassive attitude. “Of course he’ll care. He’s still your dad—”

“Listen.” You cut him off, slamming your locker shut and finally turning your angry stare at him. “You don’t know shit. Just because he’s played the part of the perfect daddy with you for years, doesn’t mean that’s who he is. So just leave me alone before you piss me off.”

Seokmin shifts uncomfortably, wishing that he hadn’t said anything in the first place. He never meant to antagonize you despite what you’re clearly thinking. He just wants to find some common ground with you. Childishly, he believes it’ll get rid of the guilty feeling he gets every time he sees you.

“Sorry.” Seokmin whispers. “I’ll leave you alone.”

Taking out the resentment you have for your dad on Seokmin doesn’t make you feel better. Somehow you manage to feel even worse after he walks away from you. This dejecting feeling doesn’t go away even as the day goes on. It actually gets worse when you sit down at the library to study during your free period.

It feels like your mind is coming to a crashing halt after being on overdrive for months. You try to pull through even though you’re fucking exhausted. All the effort you’re putting into your studies is so you can win the Merit Scholarship that would pay for your college, and burning out at this point in time wasn’t an option. The prospect of finally piecing your life back together to the way it was before makes it a little easier to ignore the fatigue and stress that lingers in your bones.

But for some reason this day (and the universe) seemed to be working against you.

“You’re fucking lying.” The voice is familiar, but you can’t place it.

“I’m not.” Now there’s a voice you recognize. It belongs to Joshua Hong—a.k.a the evil church boy who identifies as Jeonghan’s bestie. “I was there when he did it.”

“There’s no way Yoon Jeonghan applied for the Merit Scholarship.”

Those words make you freeze. Everything around you becomes a blur as disbelief clouds your senses. Instead of your mind racing with an excess amount of thoughts, there’s only one that keeps bouncing around in your mind: Yoon Jeonghan did this on purpose.

“He turned in the application months ago.” You swear you can hear a smirk in that deviant’s voice.

“Did his family go broke or something?”

“Yeah, right.” A different voice scoffs. “His dad just donated more money to have the arts building expanded. He definitely doesn’t need that scholarship.”

There isn’t many things you can see eye-to-eye on with the snobs at your school, but that last statement is definitely one thing you can agree on. Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t need the scholarship. If you were anyone else, you would think him applying for the scholarship was some mystery with no reasonable explanation, but you know better. This was all because of your refusal to concede to him. Your actions had obviously struck a nerve with his pride, and now he was going to hit you where it hurt.

You can’t even be fully angry. Not when it’s such a well thought out scheme. Still, you feel sick and unable to keep siting still to study. So you quickly gather your stuff and leave the library without noticing the pair of eyes that are watching your every move.

Josh snorts and pulls out his phone, quickly typing a message before sending it out with a satisfied smirk on his face.

It’s done. You should’ve seen her face LMAO.

If you think you can leave school peacefully to try and feel better, you’re proven wrong when you run into Jeonghan as you’re going home.

“You’re leaving already?” He says in a sickly sweet voice as he starts walking beside you. “Maybe you should stick around and study. You won’t win the Merit Scholarship by slacking off.”

“I don’t need to try that hard to beat you.”

There’s a subtle change in Jeonghan’s eyes as he glares at you. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Don’t forget that no matter how smart you are, you’re still a nobody to the people that matter.”

Maybe you should’ve been less naive of the situation. Jeonghan was an asshole, but was also right. You just didn’t know it yet.

Jeonghan begins to bother you more often after he lets you know he wants the scholarship. The remainder of the year he constantly torments and mocks you with the help of his snobby friends. Ignoring them isn’t easy, but the thought that you won’t have to put up with them for much longer helps you power through.

Before you know it, the day the winner of the scholarship will be announced arrives.

The school has an entire ceremony dedicated to academic excellence, and you happen to be one of the students being honored. Friends and family were all encouraged to come since they were giving out multiple awards. Since Seokmin wasn’t getting an academic award, your dad didn’t bother to show up, but he did encourage you to beat Jeonghan via text. You didn’t care so much because you had your mother there, and for the first time in a long time, she seemed genuinely happy. You could see her beaming at you proudly from where she sat.

In spite of all the arguments and resentment, you were thrilled that all your hard work had paid off. Finally, you were going to get your life back. All you had to do was win the scholarship and everything else would naturally fall into place. You’re seated in the second row as the head of the foundation that provided the scholarship steps up to the podium to announce the winner.

Unfortunately, the name of the recipient for the Merit Scholarship is not yours. Maybe the blow wouldn’t have been so devastating if the name that was announced didn’t belong to Jeonghan.

That asshole is sitting in the row in front of you, and like the final killing blow he always delivers when messing with you, he turns around to give you a triumphant smirk. Anger and disappointment clash inside you as if fighting for dominance to see which one is the more prominent feeling. You can feel your hands trembling and your throat tightening. The situation is unjust and cruel, but that doesn’t seem to matter to anyone except you.

This intense feeling worsens the more the situation sinks in. You don’t even want to look at your mom because you know she’s the only person who’s more angry and humiliated than you are. Everyone is cheering and clapping, but you physically can’t join in. Pretending to be happy for someone who had quite literally just ruined your life was something even you couldn’t do.

When the ceremony is over, your mom doesn’t say anything. Her expression is grim and veiled with muted anger. It makes the nerves in your stomach coil into an uncomfortable knot as you follow her out of the auditorium. You can’t say anything as a thick silence engulfs you because you know anything you say won’t be enough to appease her anger.

“This is just fantastic.” Her words come out in the form of an insincere laugh. “I worked my ass off to send you to this damn school, and this is how you repay me?”

It’s tempting to tell her that you’re the one who worked hard to get into the school despite never wanting to step back into this world, but instead you bite your tongue. After all, there’s no point in arguing with her. No amount of rage or disappointment will change the fact that you won’t be able to afford your dream college. With your current financial situation, pursuing higher education was out of the question, and because of your loss, so was the relationship with your mother.

“After all I’ve sacrificed!?” Her angry voice seems to echo throughout the large hallway, and you can feel the lingering people start to stare. “I’ve given up my entire life for you, and you couldn’t win that damn scholarship! You lost it to Yoon Jeonghan of all people!”

“Mom.” Your voice is flat and tired. “That’s enough. People are staring.”

Pointing that out would usually be enough to get her in check, but the deranged look in her eyes tells you that her anger goes beyond any embarrassment that her behavior might cause. “You’re not even sorry, are you?” She scoffs in angry disbelief.

“Neither are you.” The words come out before you can stop them. “You never had a problem with using me as your meal ticket until I didn’t win, right?”

You hear a chorus of shocked gasps when a cold hand collides with your cheek. A stinging sensation is left behind that has a different type of anger coursing through your veins. Your hand trembles as you bring it up to hold your throbbing cheek. Angry tears pool in your eyes as you look into your mother’s remorseless eyes.

“How dare you speak to me that way?” Her voice borders on a yell. “Every single thing I’ve done has been for you and your future. If I knew you were this useless, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

Your mom brushes past you as if you’re a perfect stranger to her. As if you mean nothing to her anymore. Holding the stinging tears in your eyes is painful, but that doesn’t compare to the hurt your mom’s words left behind.

Anger and misery collide together to form a weighing pressure on your chest that makes it difficult to breathe. It feels like your throat is closing in on itself, and you wonder if it’s because of the sob you’re holding in. The heavy tears fall from the top of your lids before you can try to blink them away. It’s humiliating, but you can no longer suppress your emotions like you’d been doing the whole time.

The burning sensation in your cheek has turned into a dull ache at this point, but all you can focus on is the feelings that are eating you from the inside. You see your peers and their families gawking at you. The whispers, snickers, and pitiful glances feel like daggers cutting into you, yet all you can do is stand stolidly and cry silently.

Just when you think you can’t feel any worse, you catch sight of Jeonghan and his family walking out of the auditorium with the head of the foundation. His father is shaking hands with the man, patting him on the back like someone would do to a longtime friend. Which is exactly what the head of the foundation is to him.

Now Jeonghan’s words from before made perfect sense. You’re a fool to realize it this late. Not that it matters anymore. Everything is over now, and all you can do is walk away.

“Your dad really outdid himself.”

Jeonghan offers the girl on his arm a disinterested hum. Honestly, he’d rather to be anywhere else but the gala his dad throws every year. Magnificent as it always is, it’s so boring and draining that it feels more like work than anything. His eyes keep scanning the room for any sign of his friends—or anyone that will save him from his boredom.

“Oh my god!” Mina releases his arm from the death grip she has on it to push past him. “Is that Y/F/N!?”

Jeonghan has to pause for several reasons:

1) Hearing that name after so long makes his chest and stomach flip in the most unpleasant way. 2) It’s unlikely that this airhead heiress is talking about you, but if she is, how is it possible that she knows who you are? 3) There’s no way you would be at his dad’s gala. 4) After disappearing for three years, it doesn’t make sense that you would suddenly appear here of all places.

But when he follows Mina’s line of sight, he sees that it is you, looking more elegant and gorgeous than ever. You’re wearing a designer gown that looks like it was custom made, and you have a tall, six foot nothing piece of arm candy by your side. Even Jeonghan can’t deny that you look like a picture of perfection, and he can’t even begin to figure out why or how you’re at his dad’s gala looking like that.

“And she's with Kim Mingyu!? Oh my god, I have to get a picture—!”

Jeonghan thinks Mina is joking until he sees that she’s already halfway across the room, which is the fastest he’s seen her move all night. Maybe the champagne has gotten to his head because there’s no fucking way any of this is real right now. To his horror, his date actually makes one of his father’s business associates take the picture.

“Close your mouth.” A familiar voice orders. “It’s unbecoming.”

His mom is coldly stringent with the delivery of her words. She doesn’t look surprised, and it makes him feel sick. What the hell is going on?

“Your father invited her.” Her tone leaves no room for questions. “So act like the gentleman I raised you to be, and go say hello.”

He can’t argue because not only is he completely speechless, but also due to the fact that his mom is quick to leave him standing alone. Jeonghan knows his eyes are open wide in that angry way that makes him look like he’s crazy, but he doesn’t care. Why was everyone suddenly acting like they were in some alternate universe?

“Son.”

Jeonghan’s body goes stiff. Immediately, he straightens his expression out as he turns to face his father. He’s met with a familiarly cold expression. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand. There’s a thick silence that envelopes them for a brief moment before his dad begins to speak. “Get that stupid look off your face and join me to go greet our guests.”

Again, he’s left with no room to argue because his dad walks away from him. Jeonghan is quick to follow behind him, aware of the consequences that would befall him should he disobey. Much to his chagrin, he sees his date has wandered off after successfully getting a picture with you and your date. This bizarre situation paired with his father’s attitude makes Jeonghan feel like a clueless little boy all over again.

The feeling gets worse when he comes face to face with you for the first time in years.

Your pretty eyes settle on him for a brief moment that can’t even be considered a full second before they look at his father. The man on your arm—Kim Mingyu—doesn’t acknowledge him at all. Jeonghan’s jaw ticks irritably, but he keeps his composure. Something else is clearly going on, and he would never hear the end of it if he ruined his dad’s covert plans.

“Y/N! Mingyu! I’m so glad you two made time to come!” Jeonghan’s father seems like a different person as he goes to shake hands with faux elation in his voice.

“We can’t stay long.” You say with an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But you’ll have to invite us next year because the event is fabulous.”

It irritates Jeonghan that his dad seems genuinely happy at receiving your stamp of approval. He wants to shake him and ask him if he’s lost his damn mind, but he can only plaster on a fake smile of his own.

“Of course.” There’s that fake politeness again. “Surely you two have time for a drink, though?”

Hearing his dad speak the way his employees do to him is sickening, and Jeonghan has to stop himself from gagging.

“Just one.” Mingyu says with a grin so charming that Jeonghan swears he hears some of the surrounding people swoon. “S.Coups is expecting us at his album release party. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.” He says in an understanding tone that he would’ve never used on Jeonghan. He doesn’t get time to contemplate his dad’s out of character behavior because the older man turns to you with a smile.

“Y/N, I’m sure you remember my son, Jeonghan.” His father puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes enough for it to hurt without making him visibly uncomfortable. “I think you two were still in high school the last time you saw each other.”

Finally, you two look each other in the face again. Your face is blank—a picture of impassive. Then, another beautiful smile graces your face. “That’s right. It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

“I’ve been busy with school.” He hopes his smile doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “So have you, I presume?”

Jeonghan feels proud of his subtle dig until he feels his father stiffen beside him. Your smile doesn’t falter, but it does turn into an amused one as you share a look with Mingyu who doesn't bother to stifle the laugh that tumbles past his lips.

“Jeonghan.” The glare his father is giving him means he was definitely going to hear about his apparent slip up later. “You should go find Mina.”

Translation: Get lost before you embarrass me further.

“Oh. Sure.” Jeonghan tries not to feel like a scolded little boy who’s being shooed away. “It was nice to meet you, Mingyu. Nice seeing you again, Y/N.”

He’s not sure if you saying goodbye without a hint of amusement makes him feel better or worse.

The rest of the night proceeds smoothly, but Jeonghan has to leave early so he can avoid an awkward car ride back to the house with his parents. Not that it makes any difference because he can tell his dad is still very much angry at him when he gets home.

“I told you to go over the information my secretary gave you.”

His dad has a way of speaking that makes Jeonghan feel like he’s getting yelled at even though he isn’t. It makes him wish he hadn’t gotten drunk with Soonyoung instead of going over that damn binder full of names and faces. Obviously thinking he’d be able to skate by like all the other times was a severe miscalculation.

“You spend so much time on that damn phone that I thought you’d know Y/F/N and Kim Mingyu are at the top of the modeling industry right now. I’ve been trying to convince them to advertise our new cosmetic line for weeks!”

Jeonghan feels like his ears are ringing because there’s no way. He fights the urge to pull out his phone and search for confirmation. Maybe he should’ve done that when he got home instead of opening up the whiskey in his dad’s liquor cabinet.

“You said they didn’t seem offended that Jeonghan didn’t know who they were—” His mom is cut off by his dad’s angry yell.

“That doesn’t change the fact that your brilliant son still refuses to do what I ask of him!”

There’s a tense silence in the room as Jeonghan has to withstand the most scornful glare he’s gotten in his life. His father has a crazy look in his eye that makes Jeonghan feel two feet tall. “Any time they advertise a product, it sells out within days. If they refuse to endorse our products because of you—!”

“Honey,” his mother goes to her husband to placate him. “Jeonghan will apologize to them. Isn’t that right, son?”

She might not be yelling, but her voice is cold as ice, and Jeonghan is left with no room to disagree.

There’s not much that can intimidate Jeonghan, but even he has to admit that being in such foreign territory feels unnervingly daunting. After his dad’s secretary did some digging, he found out you were doing a photo shoot near his college. It’s a closed set, but luckily having the last name Yoon is like having an all access pass to pretty much any place he can think of.

This works until he tries to approach you as you’re getting your makeup touched up. Two burly men stop him from getting close, and a man who he would’ve assumed to be a model if it wasn’t for the way he was dressed stands behind them with a raised eyebrow.

“I made it clear to Lee Chan that there would be no interview.” His voice is rough and mean—something Jeonghan isn’t used to getting from anyone aside from his parents.

Jeonghan doesn’t know if he should be more offended that this guy assumed him to be of the working class or that he was being treated like someone that was beneath you. “No, that’s not—I’m a friend.”

The guy looks mildly surprised before he looks back at you. “You know this guy, Y/N?”

You look up from your phone with the same blank expression from the gala. Because you’ve acted cordial so far, Jeonghan doesn’t expect the next words to come out of your mouth. “No. I don’t.”

Jeonghan thinks about causing a scene, but then he knows that won’t help his predicament. So he lets himself be escorted off the sight, feeling more humiliated than ever. It’s unlike him to give up (not to mention that it’s not an option), which is why he waits by a car that undoubtedly belongs to you. To think that he would be reduced to go this far just to apologize to you is infuriating.

“There’s that creep from before.” Your manager frowns as you and your team are walking to the car.

You smirk, knowing what’s going to come next is going to be the highlight of your day. “It’s alright, Jihoon. He’s probably just a fan.”

Jeonghan is surprised when you gesture for him to come towards you while your team starts to get ready to leave. He clenches his jaw when he sees an arrogant smirk on your face. “Is there a reason you’re acting like a stalker and crashing my shoot?”

Insulting you is something Jeonghan wishes he had the option of doing, but he’s not willing to disappoint his father over some temporary satisfaction. After all, he only needs to give you an insincere apology and everything would be fine. So he takes a deep breath and hopes his words don’t come out sarcastic or mocking.

“I wanted to apologize for the other night.” Okay. That sounded somewhat sincere. “I didn’t know—”

“That your daddy’s been begging me to advertise his product?” You laugh. “I guess you just assumed that I married some rich guy to crawl my way up the social ladder, right?”

Shit. He has to do some damage control, and fast. “No—No. That’s not it at all...”

You wait for him to finish, but it really seems like he has nothing else to say. It’s not surprising, but it is amusing. Jeonghan still expected things to work in his favor just because of who he was, but he was in for a rude awakening. You step toward him with a vengeful smile on your face. “That apology is pathetic as you are.”

“What?” Jeonghan growls, unable to keep up this fake politeness he’s been showing you until now.

“You know, when your dad came to my agency to beg me to advertise those shitty products he came out with, I couldn’t help but think that you really are his son.” Your sneer is meaner than he remembers. “It was fun seeing him kiss my ass and offer me so much money, but you know what? I think trashing your daddy’s new product line is going to be so much more fun.”

You bump his shoulder as you walk past him, leaving him feeling like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over his head. There was a malicious calmness in your tone that didn’t sit well with him at all.

Jeonghan quickly tries to do some damage control because even if you didn’t agree to advertise the new cosmetic line, Kim Mingyu could surely be swayed. The only problem is that he underestimated how much influence you actually have. Not only does the male model reject the apology, but he also officially declines the offer his father’s company made him.

If that wasn’t enough to piss his father off, you also decline the offer and follow it with a slanderous live that wasn’t technically slanderous under the court of law. Many comments came in about you potentially modeling for the line when you flat out said you didn’t particularly care for their products since they weren’t animal friendly and were overpriced. That caused enough backlash for the campaign ads that were underway to be halted immediately.

Despite trying to tell his parents that you never had any intention of advertising their products, he still found himself kicked out of the grand mansion he grew up in and forced to go stay at the frat house with eight other guys.

“Hold on. You know the Y/F/N!?” His friend yells after Jeonghan is done explaining why he got cut off. “You fucking traitor! How could you hide this from me when you know how much I love her?”

Jeonghan glares at Soonyoung, wanting to throttle him for only focusing on that part of the story. Also, he isn’t to blame for failing to realize the queen of the modeling industry his friend was always referring to was you.

“I still can’t believe you didn't know how famous she is.” Seungkwan says with a scoff. “She’s literally in a bunch of ads and magazines. Plus, she always walks in important fashion shows.”

Wonwoo smirks when Jeonghan pouts like a petulant child. The curiosity is eating away at him, and he feels the need to ask about something that’s not fully making sense to him. “So, you’re saying that Y/F/N did this because you’ve hated each other since you were kids?”

“She’s still not over me winning the scholarship she wanted.” Jeonghan says with a scowl. “Because of her, I have to do well on this interview so I can have some money to hold me over until I get full access to my trust next month.”

“You’re seriously going to apply for an internship at Vogue?” Soonyoung wonders with a raised eyebrow. “Won’t you be paid slave wages?”

Wonwoo and Seungkwan snicker, ignoring the glare Jeonghan throws their way. So the pay wouldn’t be great, but it was Vogue. To have an internship like that on his resume would do wonders for his career. Maybe money wasn’t the main attraction to the internship, but what he would get out of it would be worth so much more.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he’s sent to go help with a fitting for Xu Minghao’s upcoming spring collection. There’s plenty of models around who are needing minor alterations to the clothes they’re wearing, and Jeonghan has the great misfortune of handling the alterations needed for your dress.

Aside from you laughing at the fact that he’s literally on his knees, adjusting the hemline of the dress you have on, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Until he accidentally pokes you with the needle, that is. The ow you let out isn’t overly loud, but it is enough to grab the attention of Xu Minghao and Jeonghan’s direct supervisor.

“Y/N, darling, what’s wrong?” Minghao asks you, grabbing your hands as he eyes you up and down.

“Nothing. I—I just thought you’d have interns who are capable of not poking the models when they do the alterations.” You say with a slight grimace, knowing exactly what pulls at the designer’s heart strings.

Jeonghan receives two withering glares, and before the day is over he no longer has a job.

Exacting your revenge was one of the greatest feelings you’d ever felt. The outcome of your actions was more than justified, but your manager didn’t seem to think so. Your behavior confused him because he never knew you to be so spiteful to someone who simply made a mistake.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on between you and that intern you got fired?”

You look up from the newly posted pictures from the Armani show that you closed last week. Jihoon’s eyes are still fixed on the road, but he’s always had this annoying skill for seeing right through you without even looking at you. There’s no use in lying to him—not that you were planning to. You just thought you’d have a little more time to enjoy your revenge before telling the only person who knew about your past with that trust fund brat.

“That intern is Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jihoon’s eyes widen when he hears the name of the person you despise the most in the world. He looks at the rear view mirror to see that you’re back to staring at your phone. He quickly focuses back on the road, grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“Oh.” He murmurs, unsure of what to say. “The same guy who—?”

He cuts himself off, but you know what he was about to say. The same guy who ruined your life? You don’t bother to finish the sentence for him.

“The very one.”

It’s silent for a moment before Jihoon speaks again. “Don’t you think you went a little too far?”

You don’t look up, but he notices the tightening of your jaw. The pause you take isn’t long, but it feels that way. “He has a trust fund to fall back on unlike me who had nothing when my mom kicked me out for not winning the scholarship he stole from me.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything. You’re speaking about the worst moment of your life so casually that anyone would think it doesn’t bother you anymore, but he knows the truth.

“Did you hear back from the agency?” You ask, not wanting to keep talking about the past.

“Yeah. They don’t mind you going to classes for this semester as long as you still do the Marc Jacobs show in Milan and the Versace show in Paris.”

“I also promised Jun I’d do his New York show.” You mention with a victorious smile.

Jihoon hums in acknowledgment. He’s not against the idea of you taking your college classes in person for a semester, but he wonders if it will be okay.

As usual, your manager was right to worry.

Weeks of your college experience go by without any problems. During that time you didn’t notice that Jeonghan had been watching you. He didn’t follow you around or anything like that, but he had observed you long enough to notice that you were oddly attached to your laptop that looked like it was in need of a serious upgrade. And he knows. That’s the ticket to his revenge. So he patiently waits for his chance to grab that ticket.

It takes some convincing (a large sum of money) for Jeonghan to get his English professor to pair you with him for the upcoming project. All he needs to do is get that laptop from you to get the revenge he craves.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more angry. Never mind the fact that there was this perpetual animosity between you and your partner. Jeonghan was also one of the most idiotic people you had ever met. Carrying him on this project was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Don’t expect me to do all the work. I don’t care if have photo shoots or whatever. Make sure you know the material.”

You almost let out an incredulous scoff at his audacity, but instead you just give him an arrogant smile. “I think you forget that you’re the one who always lost to me when it came to academics.”

Jeonghan gives you smug smirk of his own. “And yet I’m the one who won the Merit Scholarship.”

For the first time since he’s seen you again, your arrogant expression falters. He’s not allowed to enjoy the dumb look on your face because you’re quick to smooth it out as if you weren’t slighted by his comment. It’s almost amazing how quickly you manage to cover up your expression.

“Please.” You scoff, trying not to yell at him in the middle of the library. “Your daddy bought that for you just like everything else you have. Too bad intelligence is something that even he can’t afford to get you.”

Jeonghan looks like he did all those years ago on your first day of senior year. His expression is so funny that you can’t help but laugh at him. Your mellifluous laughter catches the attention of some of the people sitting not too far from you who happened to be apparent fans of yours. The pair doesn’t hesitate to walk over to your table and ask for a picture.

You stand up and pose with each of them with that friendly smile you give to everyone except Jeonghan. While your back is turned, he sees your laptop slightly sticking out of your bag. It’s almost too easy to the grab the device and stick it in his own bag. He does it with a precision and smoothness that takes even him by surprise.

As soon as you’re done, you turn back to see Jeonghan gathering the books on the table, bag already slung over his shoulder like he’s ready to leave.

“What the hell? You’re leaving?” You say, annoyed that he was already not pulling his weight this early on.

“I have things to do.” Jeonghan says with a shrug. “I’ll text you later to let you know when I’m free to meet up.”

He leaves you frowning and unaware that he took the single most important item you own.

It’s not until you get back home that you realize your laptop is missing. You panic, practically tearing the house apart trying to find it. Every moment of the day flashes through your mind because you did have a tendency to forget things. It was the reason why Jihoon was responsible for handling most of your personal items when you did shoots.

Jihoon. You think as you search your room for the third time. He’s going to be so disappointed and angry.

The contents in the laptop isn’t what you’re worried about, but the laptop itself. Jihoon bought it for you after he convinced your agency that taking online classes would not affect your work. It meant so much to you because he was the only person who knew how much you had wanted to go to college despite not being able to after you graduated high school.

You’re nearly in tears after realizing that you really had lost it. Even if you went back to the campus early in the morning, it would take you forever to look for it in all the places you’d been to. Just as you’re about to call Jihoon to tell him what happened, you get a text from the last person you want to hear from.

Jeonghan sent a picture of himself holding your most prized possession with an infuriating message attached to it: You’ll get your laptop back if come to my party tonight and take a picture with my friend.

It’s a trap. You know it is. And yet, you still find yourself at the address you were given by the devil incarnate. The frat house is loud and full of people who don’t seem to care or notice who you are. Not that you mind. You only hope Jeonghan doesn’t make things difficult and gives you your laptop right away.

“Y/N!” The deviant yells your name when you finally find him.

Jeonghan is clearly drunk, holding your precious laptop close to him as he drinks some cheap beer. You keep a level head, knowing he just wants a reaction out of you. “Where’s your friend?”

Straight to the point, as always. Jeonghan smirks and whispers something to the boy next to him. His friend disappears into the crowd and returns with someone else minutes later. It’s a cute guy with shining eyes and an adorable smile.

“I love you.” He blurts once he sees you, a blush suffusing his entire face. “You’re so pretty and amazing—!”

He’s drunk, you can tell, but he also seems sincere. It makes you think maybe that rat Jeonghan has actually done this as some twisted way to make his friend’s wish come true. Even if that’s not the case, you could never be mean to someone who supports you—even if that person is friends with someone like Jeonghan.

“Let’s take a picture.” You say with a smile that’s surprisingly easy to conjure.

Naively, you think that Jeonghan will give you the thing you cherish the most after you comply to his wishes. After his friend leaves, he makes no move to give you your laptop. You should’ve expected it, but it still infuriates you.

“I can’t believe you actually came and did what I asked. It makes me wonder what you're hiding in here.” Jeonghan slurs with a smirk that makes you want to throttle him. “I bet you regret acting the way you have.”

You know he’s talking about the things you’ve done to him as soon as you saw him again, and you resist the urge to scream at him that this is nothing compared to what he did to you. Both of you are too focused on each other to see the camera aimed at the rapidly unfolding fight.

“Just give it back, idiot.” You seethe, trying to keep your composure because things are on the verge of getting messy.

“I’m surprised that top model Y/F/N still has this shitty model. Maybe you should think about upgrading.”

Jeonghan laughs again and tauntingly holds out your laptop. As you step forward to grab it, the sleek device slips out of his hand. Everything seems to go in slow motion as you watch the laptop hit the floor and break open. The screen completely detached from the keyboard, and despite being turned off, you can see the cracks that covered half the screen.

You can hear laughter and immature ohs filling up the space. All rational thoughts are ejected from your mind as you grab a cup from a random party-goer and throw it in Jeonghan’s face. The crowd seems to go wild, but that’s not what you’re focused on. Jeonghan doesn’t look shocked or angry. In fact, he looks a lot like the cat who ate the canary.

You realize too late that the guy from before is pointing his phone at you. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach, but you easily mask your panic and go to pick up the pieces of your broken laptop. The night ends with you running out of the house and a video of you throwing beer in Jeonghan’s face being uploaded for the world to see.

This leaves Jeonghan feeling very pleased with himself.

When he first found out you were going to attend the college he worked so hard to make sure you didn’t get into, it felt like he was living in his worst nightmare. But now with you getting backlash for throwing beer in his face, he’s never felt better. His parents had even reached out to him to get dinner and discuss him moving back in.

“I’m literally never talking to you again.” Soonyoung glares at him with deep resentment. “How could you use me to set up Y/F/N? She probably hates me now.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes as Seungkwan sympathetically pats his friend on the back. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she hates Jeonghan way more.”

Wonwoo snorts while Soonyoung’s pout gets more sulky by the second. While anyone could agree that Jeonghan’s actions were petty and borderline sociopathic, most of the frat was just glad to have him go back to normal. His temperament had been exponentially worse since you decided to finish the semester in person.

The victory, however, is short-lived.

Two days after the video Jeonghan’s frat brother initially posted, you post a video of your own. The caption was nothing short of absolving: Guess he’s mad I didn’t want to endorse the products his daddy tests on animals.

It’s a factor Jeonghan didn’t consider. Someone else had filmed the entire thing from the part where he’s taunting you about your laptop to the part where he so clearly drops it on purpose and you react by throwing beer in his face. It’s almost comedic how fast public opinion changes. The stocks to his father’s company plummet not even a full hour after you post the video, and Jeonghan is getting way more backlash than you did.

When he sees his dad blowing up his phone, he knows this is the final nail in the coffin that will sever the ties with his family.

Meanwhile, you’re not holding up much better. In spite of managing to spin the situation in your favor, your agency is still displeased that you were involved in a scandal at all. Not to mention that Jihoon is clearly disappointed in you. It’s to be expected since he’s the one who helped you convince everyone that taking classes in person wouldn’t be a problem.

“You told me you didn’t want anything to do with Yoon Jeonghan.” Jihoon reminds you two stand in your living room. “Why did you go there in the first place when you’re the one always saying he's some sort of evil mastermind?”

You frown at him, feeling tears of frustration begin to gather in your eyes. “He took the laptop you gave me! How could I let him keep it when you bought it on the salary you had back then?”

Jihoon’s features soften instantly. He lets out a deep sigh and pulls you into his arms. So that’s why. Even he had failed to remember how much that old laptop meant to you. It makes him smile as you quietly sniffle into his shoulder. Jihoon thinks back to when he bought you the laptop and how grateful you had been. He can still remember clearly how you told him that he was the only person to ever believe in your dreams.

“I’m sorry.” He says as he gently pats your back. “I forgot how much that laptop means to you, but I’ll buy you a new one, okay? I should’ve gotten you a new one a long time ago, anyway. Thanks to you and Mingyu, my salary has increased.”

Even after he gets a tearful laugh, Jihoon wonders if going to college is really what’s best for you. He’s the last person who would want to stop you from chasing your real dream, but he can’t shake the feeling that your war with Yoon Jeonghan is far from over.

Jeonghan is an easy going guy who can laugh at his own misfortune, but he really doesn’t see the humor in you single-handedly ruining his life. His friends disagree. Especially Josh, who came down to visit him after years of being abroad.

“I don’t know why you’re acting all surprised. If I was Y/N, I’d try to ruin your life too.” Josh says before he takes a bite of his food. “Actually, I’m surprised that she didn’t try sooner. Especially after what happened at the awards ceremony.”

Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s curiosity is piqued upon hearing that last statement. They lean forward, abandoning all interest in the exquisite food in front of them. In the rendition of Jeonghan’s backstory of the supermodel that hates him, there was no mention of an awards ceremony.

“What happened at the awards ceremony?” Wonwoo asks immediately, not understanding why Jeonghan genuinely looks like he doesn’t know what Josh is talking about.

The atmosphere has quickly changed, and Jeonghan can’t figure out why Josh is making that day seem like it was something more than it was. But there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach that kept growing bigger and bigger. Had something else happened that he didn’t know about?

Josh notices the tense silence that’s suddenly surrounding the table and clears his throat. “I mean, technically, Jeonghan is the one who plotted to ruin Y/N’s life first. He’s the reason her mom went all psycho on her at our end of the year awards ceremony.”

The silence from before gets thicker and more uncomfortable the longer it lasts. Jeonghan looks like he’s just heard some life altering revelation while Josh is looking as clueless as the rest of the boys.

“Wait—” Josh puts down his fork, eyes wide with disbelief. “Why are you acting like you don’t know?”

“I...” Jeonghan swallows thickly. All he remembers from that day is that vacant expression you had on your face when he won the scholarship. The one that still makes him feel like someone is reaching inside his chest and squeezing his heart.

“So what exactly happened?” Seungkwan asks since his friend can’t seem to even think straight.

“We were all mean to her.” Josh admits with a sigh. “I mean, she’s the daughter of a failed businessman, plus she had beef with Hannie since birth. It was too easy to give her shit and fuck with her.”

His friends are uncharacteristically quiet, and it’s so uncomfortable that Jeonghan just wants to die. But not before he hears about what Josh meant about the awards ceremony.

“When Jeonghan found out she applied for the Merit Scholarship, he applied for it too. His dad is friends with the guy who was head of the scholarship foundation, so of course he was going to get it. We all thought it’d be pretty funny to see how her parents would react when she lost.”

Jeonghan’s friends give him very judgmental stares that he honestly deserves.

“But I didn't get to.” Jeonghan recalls quietly. “Y/N and her mom left the auditorium right after, and I had to stay behind to take a bunch of pictures for the school’s newsletter.”

There’s another tense silence where Joshua looks like he has some sort of dilema. He wonders if telling Jeonghan after so long is only going to make things worse.

“You said Y/N’s mom went all psycho on her.” Wonwoo says. “How is that Jeonghan’s fault?”

“Aside Y/N would’ve gotten that scholarship if it wasn’t for Jeonghan, her mom was mad because she lost to him in particular. As soon as they got outside she started yelling at her about how useless she was. She even slapped her in front of everyone and basically disowned her."

“Damn.” Is all Soonyoung is able to say before turning to Jeonghan. “I would hate you too.”

Jeonghan can’t say anything because he’s thinking the exact same thing.

After a very eye-opening lunch, Jeonghan realizes now that you won’t stop your revenge until you’ve completely destroyed him. This sends him into a panic and makes him come up with a plan that will hopefully knock you down a few pegs.

Jeonghan enlists the help of your stepbrother, Seokmin. Unbeknownst to maybe the kindest guy he’s ever met, he helps Jeonghan lure not only you, but also your dad to the silent auction your university is hosting. Getting you two to arrive at the same times is a bit tricky, but Jeonghan manages to pull it off after telling Seokmin to give your father a certain time.

All Jeonghan has to do is linger by the entrance and wait for you to arrive. Which you do, and in a beautiful dress, no less. It’s almost a pity that your night is going to be ruined in approximately five seconds. He’s far enough for you to not notice him yet and close enough to hear your father call out to you from behind.

“Y/N.”

You freeze at the sound of your name being spoken. It had been years, but you would never forget that voice. You turn around slowly, feeling an onslaught of emotions hit you like a truck when you see your father standing in front of you.

There’s a tension between you and your father that Jeonghan recognizes immediately. For some reason, it makes him feel uncomfortable rather than satisfied. He's not sure why that is, but he can't stop watching. It’s unexpected because despite knowing that you were estranged from him, he didn’t expect it to be like this.

“How have you been?” Your father is hesitant in his movements as he steps closer to you.

You hate feeling the way you currently do; like a little girl who’s powerless in front of her father. The feeling is worse because he’s staring at you like he never abandoned you to start another life that didn’t involve you.

“You’ve seen the articles.” You reply coldly. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”

The tense atmosphere affects even Jeonghan, and he can’t help but start to feel a little regret because this is not what he had in mind at all. It’s not funny nor does it satiate the vengeful side you always brought out in him. Right now, the situation feels like some sort of erroneous event that should’ve never happened in the first place.

“I was pleased to see what you’ve done to the Yoon family.” He genuinely sounds proud, but you’re not twelve years old anymore so it doesn’t mean anything to you. All it does is make you feel sick. “Honestly, I never thought you’d be able to do it. You surprised me.”

Jeonghan can’t laugh. It should be funny, but it's not. Your father is giving you a back-handed compliment despite being one of the top models in the industry and someone who has the potential to be a global star. Instead of that sweet feeling he’s always gotten from messing with you, all he feels is disgust.

“I’m sure your mom is pleased as well.” He says awkwardly after you don’t say anything. “How is she, by the way?”

The last thing you want to talk about is her, but his ignorance to the feelings you harbor for your mom actually makes you scoff in bewilderment. Emotions you thought you’d gotten rid of long ago start to push at the surface and gather at the center of your chest. You hate that you can’t shove them away and pretend they’re not affecting you the way they are.

Jeonghan flinches when your next words come out in the phonic form of ice. “You know I haven’t talked to her since she kicked me out of her house.”

There’s this long pause where the entire vicinity seems to have gone as cold as your voice. The candor of your words make Jeonghan’s jaw drop. An intense discomfort seeps into his veins and strikes him right in the chest. The story Joshua told him is undoubtedly true, and now he’s starting to realize he was the one who put that domino effect into place.

“I would’ve helped you if you let me—”

Your dad stops talking when you start laughing. It’s not a joyful or amused laugh. It’s cold and resentful. You almost can’t believe the audacity that your father has. His selective memory has always pissed you off, but now he was crossing the line.

“Why are you here?” You demand, unwilling to prolong this unexpected encounter. “This is an alumni event.”

“Seokmin invited me.” His answer shouldn’t have disappointed you, but for some infuriating reason it still did. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

There’s so many things that you want to say. All these years you thought about how it would all play out if you saw him again, but now that it’s actually happening, you can’t say anything that you wanted to.

“The actions you’ve taken against the Yoon family have impressed me so far.” He says like you’ll be happy about his praise. “I thought it would be appropriate to say this to you. That’s all.”

When you see that familiar contempt and unimpressed expression on your father’s face, you can’t help but think that you should’ve never left your house to come out. The figure in your peripheral vision hasn’t moved, and you can only assume he’s waiting for you to react the way he wants.

The silence that looms is tense and uncomfortable. Even Jeonghan can feel it from where he’s watching. It’s strange. The scene in front of him should be satisfying, but it’s not. Not even close.

“What is it that you want to say, then?”

“I know for a fact that Yoon Jeonghan is planning to use a large part of his trust to buy your rival agency. I’ll loan you a substantial amount of money to counter that offer and steal it from him.”

Now, there’s not much that can catch Jeonghan off guard, but what the fuck. His intentions and deals were strictly confidential. How was it possible that your father knew?

“I’m sure you know the reason this chance is so important.”

That anticlimactic moment makes Jeonghan pause. He vaguely recognizes the sick feeling in his stomach as one of realization. The scene in front of him was nothing more then a distorted reflection of his own relationship with his father.

In the time he hadn’t seen you, you’d gotten good at schooling your reactions, but now anyone can see how helpless you feel. That expression reminds him of how he felt when his own father told him to buy the agency and find a model that was capable of taking the crown you’ve had for the last two years. It was never about Jeonghan’s happiness, it was all about his dad’s vanity and ego. He could see now that was still the case for you as well.

“You want me to humiliate him and his family one more time.”

Your father smirks. “Now you’re getting it. You need to prove to everyone—especially that boy and his family—that you’ve always been better.”

All the things you’ve done to Jeonghan come to the forefront of your mind and you suddenly feel more sick and disgusted than ever. This entire time you inadvertently pushed your obsessive father’s agenda because you were still angry about something that happened years ago. There’s this tight knot in your throat that suddenly makes it hard to speak, but you manage anyway.

“When are you going to stop using me for your petty rivalry?” You demand angrily. “I’m not going to be the kind of person who steps on other people for no reason.”

Your father scoffs, furious eyes filled with disappointment. “No reason?”

His laughter that follows is cold and manic. “You think this is just about my dislike for that family? No. This is about who you’re going to turn out to be. Are you going to be weak? Swayed by every sob story that crosses your path? How do you expect to take over my company if you’re so spineless?”

Jeonghan doesn’t feel any satisfaction like he expects. Instead he feels this ugly, jagged feeling deep in his chest. He feels like he's watching some sort of reenactment of him and his own father.

“Don’t forget. I have no use for such a pathetic daughter.”

The silence feels like it’s going to last forever, and in the stillness, Jeonghan feels sorry for you. This entire time he had been so stuck on his own turmoil that he forgot you were also the verge of being crushed by the weight of your family’s expectations. Just like his own father, your dad clearly had no regard for anyone’s feelings—even his own child’s. The test of time hadn’t changed him at all. Unfortunately, the same could be said for his father. It was disheartening to know that you were both nothing more than pawns in their childish game of revenge.

“That’s funny because right now the pathetic one is you.” Jeonghan feels oddly proud at how cutthroat you sound right now. “Don’t act like that company is something you can give away, you know, since it belongs to your wife and not you.”

Your truthful words finally manage to silence him, but you can’t stop there. “Plus, I know you’d rather give everything you have to Seokmin anyway, right? I mean, he is the son you’ve always wanted.”

“Don’t blame him for my mistakes, Y/N.”

“God—When are you going to open your fucking eyes and realize I don’t blame anyone else but you!?” You suddenly yell, unable to keep stifling your feelings.

It’s quiet for a moment before your father speaks again, his voice cold and calculating. “What about the Yoon family? Don’t you blame them? Aren’t they the ones who crushed your dreams?”

Jeonghan holds his breath despite knowing your answer. Of course you did. There was no way you didn’t. If the roles were reversed, he would, too.

You did blame that fucking family for a lot, but never for what your parents did to you. They had nothing to do with the fact that your mom and dad aren’t worthy of being parents. Also, if you truly thought back on it (which you had—countless times), your parents were the one who destroyed your dreams before anyone else could.

“Why would I blame anyone else for what you and your ex wife did to me? You two are the ones who decided I was useless because I couldn’t get you back to where you wanted to be.” You say, voice void of any perceptible emotion.

The silence is thick and heavy with tension. You swallow thickly and belatedly remember that you’re being watched. By this time, you imagine Jeonghan has enough material to humiliate you accordingly, but you’re too fucking exhausted to care. The petty actions you’ve taken so far were justified in your eyes, but even so, you wish you had just let it go. Talking to the man who abandoned you and only came looking for you when he deemed you as useful let you see that.

“Just leave.” Dad. You almost say it like he’s worthy of being that. “Do what you want with this sick obsession you have with the Yoon family, but leave me out of it because I’m done being used for your petty revenge.”

Your father scoffs. “I knew you didn’t have what it takes. I’ll go, but I’ll leave you with this: Yoon Jeonghan’s father knows his son will stop at nothing to destroy you. He was bragging about how his son was going to ruin you with this agency he’s going to buy. Think about that next time you want to be the better person.”

With that, he walks away from you, possibly for the last time.

Despite feeling numb, there’s still angry tears poking the back of your eyes. You let out a shaky sigh, knowing now isn’t the time to cry like you want. “Are you going keep hiding in the shadows like you didn’t set this up?”

Jeonghan’s blood runs cold, and for a moment he contemplates on running. He’s not exactly sure how you found out or even knew that he was watching, but there was no point in pretending. As usual, you knew everything.

You turn around, face still a mess of emotions. Two hours before, you might’ve cared about losing face in front of Jeonghan, but that was no longer the case. No matter what actions he took against you after this, you were done feeding into this game. As soon as the semester was over, you were going back to your normal life and leave behind all these shitty memories.

The expression on your face is eerily similar to the one from when he took your scholarship—a look of defeated resignation. Jeonghan figures that he gets a similar expression on his face when he fights with his dad. That suffocated look is one he knows all too well.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Jeonghan is reminded of that first day of senior year when he saw you again. In that split second as you're gazing at him with crystal-like tears shining in your pretty eyes, he makes a decision.

“Be my girlfriend.”

His words hang in the air, and you can only look at Jeonghan like he’s lost his mind. You two stare at each other, until you finally manage to form some words through your bewilderment. “What? What are you—?”

“Be my girlfriend.” He says with more conviction. “And help me get revenge on our parents.”

You blink, feeling more confused than ever. Briefly, you wonder if the intensity of your emotions has driven you into some sort of delirium. Either that, or Jeonghan really has lost his mind.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He actually pouts at you. “You said you were done being used by your dad. I feel the same way. I’m tired of only being useful for their sick obsession.”

Maybe it’s the exhaustion you feel from all the emotions you’ve ran dry or maybe it’s because the little snake actually sounds convincing, but either way you agree.

“Fine, but I have conditions.”

Realistically, Jeonghan knew that (fake) dating you wouldn’t be easy, but he never expected to be put on blast like he has been—least of all by you. He’s waiting outside your last class, trying to pretend like he’s not furious.

“Angel face.” Jeonghan’s smile is deceptively calm and pretty. “We need to talk.”

You grimace at him as he loops his arm through yours and begins walking you out of the building towards his sleek car. “Yeah, we do because what the hell is that pet name? It makes you sound like some middle-aged creep.”

Jeonghan laughs stiffly, not wanting to attract the wrong kind of attention. People were already skeptical about your relationship, and he couldn’t let his brilliant plan fail before it got to the good part. He manages to keep his cool and even opens the passenger door for you, gently stroking your head as you get in. It’s almost annoying how good he is at acting affectionate.

“You’re breaking your own rules.” Jeonghan scowls as he starts the car.

You already know he’s talking about your interview that went public an hour ago. His deep frown makes you smirk. “Don’t be mad at me, angel face.”

Jeonghan’s annoyance is oddly soothed by your cute laughter, and he briefly wonders if he’s starting to go insane. His friends would likely tell him that he is. Meanwhile, you’re also wondering if you’re going insane because the surly pout Jeonghan has on his face isn’t as off-putting as it usually is.

“I did what was necessary for the plan.” You explain, trying not to sound like you’re mocking him. “Now everyone likes us together. See?”

Jeonghan finally looks at your phone when he gets to a stoplight. Even just skimming the comments under the article, he can see the tides beginning to shift in his favor. He looks back at the road with a pout. Sure, everything was in the name of revenge, but he wasn’t sure if the humiliation was worth it.

“I guess, but... I don’t think you had to say that I cried while begging for your forgiveness.”

You give him an annoyed look. “Honestly, that’s the least you could do to repent for everything that you’ve done to me. Just consider yourself lucky that I let everything slide due to our mutual need to get revenge.”

Jeonghan scoffs, but says nothing else the entire time he drives to the restaurant he’s been dying to eat at for weeks. The reservation he made two weeks ago was at the beginning of next month, but you had managed to get one within minutes. It was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, and he had heard nothing but good things.

Your hands slips into his easily as you two walk into the two MICHELIN star restaurant. Jeonghan tries not to think about how holding your soft hand doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would. Instead he focuses on the extravagant interior of the restaurant. He’s seen the pictures online, but they didn’t capture the essence of the place at all.

He notices the looks you’re getting from the staff when you say your last name to the hostess. Unlike the attention you get at school, the other guests and staff are subtle with the looks they’re giving you as you two are guided into the restaurant. It’s a different type of uncomfortable, but Jeonghan notices that you don’t seem to be fazed by it at all.

“Hannie.” You call so affectionately that Jeonghan has to stop himself from gaping at you. “I booked one of the tables on the balcony, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No.” He says, feeling like he’s in a trance as you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

As you two near the balcony, he sees the group of people sitting at one of the tables. Your hand tightens around his, but your face remains clean of any emotions. Jeonghan isn’t sure why he softly caresses your thumb in a comforting way. Maybe it’s because he knows that despite wanting revenge, executing it didn’t mean all the unpleasant feelings that came with seeing your father would magically go away.

“How’d you know he’d be here?” Jeonghan wonders after you two are seated.

You hum softly, thinking of a way to say something so deprecating without sounding completely pitiful. Eventually, you decide you don’t need to be so cautious because Jeonghan has already seen all the ugly parts of your life you never wanted anyone to see.

“It’s his birthday, today.” Your gaze flickers past his shoulder for a split second. “He always has this intimate dinner with his family before throwing his actual party. Seokmin mentioned that he wanted to have the dinner here this year.”

Jeonghan doesn’t have time to process how detached you seem because you give him a wicked smirk. “I know you can’t see, but he looks fucking livid right now.”

He’s not sure why he feels relieved when you start laughing like you weren’t feeling suffocated a few seconds ago. It makes him wonder if you’re aware that he can still tell what you’re feeling. Jeonghan had an innate talent for it since childhood, and now it seemed to be more fine-tuned than ever.

“Then, should we take it a step further?”

You give him a questioning gaze. The confusion you feel slowly turns into an emotion that feels somewhat familiar yet foreign all at the same time. It’s something you can’t pinpoint or name, but it’s definitely there as Jeonghan puts a velvet box on the table. Something inside your chest jerks when you realize that he went out and bought you a gift to help you get the reaction you were looking for.

Jeonghan slides the box over to you, a cocky smirk on his face. “Open it, darling. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

You don’t comment on the pet name (especially since you like it way better than the other one) as you do what he says. The box contains a beautiful necklace that looks like it could be from a man in love (or one set on getting revenge).

“It’s beautiful.” You say with a smile as the feeling in your chest jerks again. “Want to put it on me?”

Jeonghan immediately stands from his seat and walks around the table. He’s good at keeping his eyes trained on you, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the three heads clearly staring in the direction of your table. Jeonghan takes the necklace from the box and bends down to clip it into place. Your scent invades his senses, and it makes it way too easy to admire the way the diamonds shine against your skin.

You feel soft lips press against your cheek before gentle words are whispered into your ear. “It suits you just like I knew it would.”

There’s a loud thumping in the air that only you two can seem to hear.

Jeonghan’s hands are holding on to your shoulders as you look up at him. The thumping seems to get louder. “Thank you for my gift, love.”

On impulse more than anything, your (fake) boyfriend swoops down to press a lingering kiss on your lips. He pulls back, feeling an awkward warmth crawling up his neck. You don’t look surprised or disgusted, instead you give him a fond smile that seems more genuine the longer he looks at it. Jeonghan takes his seat again, the infuriated man tables behind you long forgotten by either of you.

There’s a shift in your relationship that night. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Neither you nor Jeonghan really take notice. All you two are aware of is that playing pretend isn’t as awful as you both thought it would be. Expectedly, you scheming deviants have the time of your life playing with this new dynamic there is between you.

Jeonghan has become overly familiarized with your apartment by now. He’s waiting on your nice couch, watching as your team finishes working on your hair and makeup. It’s interesting to see just how much effort goes into looking absolutely flawless for all the cameras. Before this, he didn’t realize certain types of makeup and hair styles photographed better.

“Flawless as always!” Your makeup artist squeals as he takes videos and pictures to document his handiwork.

You don’t look exhausted physically, but Jeonghan still worries that you might already be drained. He knows he would be, especially because your manager keeps reminding you of all the people you need to get a photo with and at what time you need to be home by because you have two different shoots in the morning.

Jeonghan watches silently as your stylist follows you to your room to help you put on the custom dress Wen Junhui has made especially for you to wear to the new Givenchy pop-up shop opening. From what you’ve said, it’s supposed to match the suit he has on—which was also custom made for him by the famous designer.

When you step back into the living room wearing the fitted dress, Jeonghan feels like he’s staring at a living goddess. He can’t take his eyes off you as Jihoon snaps some photos of you. Being starstruck is something he didn’t think was actually possible, but now he understands why Soonyoung still can’t act normal when he brings you around.

“You look amazing.” Jeonghan says breathlessly, still completely entranced by your appearance.

“So do you. I’ll have to give Jun my thanks for making us the hottest couple at this event.”

After a few pictures together for your socials, you two set off to the pop-up shop. The event is expectedly large and grand. So many important people had gathered, but he only cared about the one person who he knew would be there. Jeonghan is quick to spot his father. Ironically, he’s talking with the man who designed the suit he's wearing.

You’re only a little taken aback when Jeonghan wraps his arms around you while you’re talking to a newcomer model you met last year during fashion week. It’s all you can do to keep talking normally as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands gently caress the material of your dress. He’s pressing himself closer to you like he wants to mold your bodies together.

When you’re finally left alone, you turn your head to give him a questioning look. You only get a pleased expression in return. The adorably goofy look makes your heart flutter with unwarranted affection.

“I’m clingy.” Jeonghan says bluntly. “And as my girlfriend, you’re obligated to indulge me.”

Your laugh is airy and filled with endearment because honestly, you don’t hate the faux affection. His embrace isn’t uncomfortable. Oddly, it makes the usual anxiousness you get at these events melt away. It’s only an added bonus to what you actually came by to get.

His father looks a lot like yours did. It’s almost funny because it takes less than a second after he sees you two together for him to come over and demand to speak to his son alone. You almost decline for Jeonghan, but you stop yourself when you remember the clause that states neither of you will interfere with family matters other than indirectly making them angry with your relationship.

Your (fake) boyfriend isn’t gone for long, but he’s clearly upset. Instead of letting it visibly show, he indulges in more champagne and mingling. It’s only when he starts slurring his words that you decide it’s time to go.

You're not sure why you don’t take him back to his frat house. It would’ve been easier and less of a hassle, but you found yourself unwilling to part with Jeonghan when he was clearly so distraught and incoherent. You force feed him water before laying him down in your guest bedroom.

“My dad’s such an asshole.” Jeonghan sighs, arm thrown over his eyes as you take off his shoes for him.

You hum in agreement, finally looking back at his face. His cheeks and neck are suffused with color, and you wonder what exactly his father said to make him this upset. It makes you wonder if he was starting to regret doing this entire thing with you.

“Don’t think about him anymore.” You whisper, not sure why that last thought is so upsetting. “Just get some sleep, okay?”

You go to get up, but are stopped by a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist. Jeonghan has moved his arm and is now looking directly at you. His eyes are shining with so many emotions that you recognize, but somehow can’t seem to decipher enough to tell what exactly he’s feeling. The intensity of his stare makes somehow makes you feel exposed.

“Stay with me.” His voice is more vulnerable than you expect. “Please.”

It’s like your legs move on their own as they sit you back at his side. He doesn’t make a move to let go of your wrist and you don’t think to shake off his touch. The silence is full of unspoken words, and you only wait for him to say what’s clearly bothering him.

“I don’t hate you.”

His words are surprising, mostly because they’re something you never thought you’d hear. Jeonghan doesn’t give you a chance to say anything because he keeps talking. “I don’t know why, but I can’t hate you the way I’m supposed to.” His gaze goes to the ceiling as if he’s trying to sort out all the thoughts you can see running through his mind. “I never could.”

“I don’t hate you either.” You tell him honestly.

“But I ruined your life.” Jeonghan frowns as if he’s recalling every horrible thing he ever did to you.

“I ruined yours.” You counter lightheartedly.

Jeonghan laughs a bit and closes his eyes. “Hope you can forgive me for real someday.”

He starts snoring before you can tell him that you already have.

“They look so cute together.”

This phrase was one Jeonghan got used to hearing since you two started dating, and he hates it. Not because it’s unpleasant to hear (it’s not), but because half the time that phrase was being used to describe you and Kim Mingyu. The two girls in his financial analysis class are squealing about your most recent photo shoot which included some shots with your model friend.

“Jealousy is not a good look on you.” Seungkwan laughs when he sees the look on his friend's face.

Jeonghan only rolls his eyes and pretends that Seungkwan’s words don’t affect him the way they do. Because there’s no way he’s jealous. How could he be jealous of someone that was nothing more than a coworker? And there's no reason for him to be jealous even if that wasn’t the case because he doesn’t have any feelings for you.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when you tell him you’re going to have to reschedule your weekly dinner because of that stupidly tall model everyone ships you with. Instead of letting it go like he should’ve done, Jeonghan reminds you that having dinner out in public once a week is part of your deal.

It’s almost cute the way he does it. Jeonghan says it like a whiny child that’s begging for attention. So you promise him to meet him the next day, but he’s not having it. Jeonghan insists that you come to his frat’s party after you’re done. Which you do, and you don’t know what to think on what you stumble on. Jeonghan is absolutely hammered, but he’s also really happy to see you.

“Darling!” He yells, abandoning the game of beer pong he’s currently winning.

You’re surprised when he races toward you and crushes you with a hug. The wolf whistles and cat calls fade into the background as Jeonghan pulls you along with him to sit on the couch, not caring for his partner’s loud protest for him to finish the game. His grip is strong as he tugs you on his lap. The grin he gives you when you easily comply is so pretty it hurts.

“You look so pretty.” Jeonghan is talking to you in pout, and you think you might melt at how cute he looks. “Can’t believe you went out with another guy looking so good.”

You let out a shocked laugh. He sounds like a jealous boyfriend, and for some reason it doesn’t repulse or annoy you. It does confuse you, though.

“I can’t believe you were out here getting drunk with sorority girls while I had a business dinner with Mingyu and Jihoon.”

His laugh is so cute, and the way he hugs you tighter and burrows his face into your neck is even cuter. You notice the lingering eyes, and it reminds you that the affection you’re receiving isn’t real. It also makes you think about how there’s really no need for him to be acting like this. There’s no reporters around or anyone that would run back to your families to let them know how “in love” you two are.

And yet, you don’t feel like pushing him off.

“Let’s get you to bed.” You say, trying to act like your heart isn’t pounding as if it’s on the verge of imploding.

“To your house?” He looks up, hooded eyes looking at you with an emotion that seems familiar, but foreign-looking in his eyes.

“No.” You force yourself to say despite wanting to give into his pleading stare. “Your bed is upstairs, silly.”

Jeonghan leans more into you, letting out disappointed hum that tickles your skin. “Want to stay with you.”

You’re pretty sure you’re going to regret what you do next, but you for some reason you can’t explain to yourself, you’re unwilling to leave him alone when he clearly wants to stay with you. So you decide it’s easier to take him upstairs as he drunkenly points out where his room is. You plop down on his bed, surprised that Jeonghan hasn’t let go of you once the entire time.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” You say as he shoves his face in your neck.

“Stay forever.”

It’s stupid the way your heart interprets the words even though your brain knows he only meant stay for tonight. You’re more worried that you wish he meant it in the way he said it.

In the morning, you wake up to see that you’re alone. The discomfort you feel is eased when the door opens minutes later to reveal Jeonghan with several shopping bags in hand. You spot the familiar Valentino and Christian Louboutin bags almost instantly.

“You’re awake.” The smile he gives you is sleepy and tired, but so damn attractive.

“You went shopping.” You say, trying to understand how he got up before you. “Don’t you have a hangover?”

“I do.” He admits, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “But you need fresh clothes after you shower, so I went out to buy you some. I also got you some other stuff from the drug store.”

You don’t know how to process the fact that your fake boyfriend went out to buy you all the things you need. Especially since it was clear he made more than one stop. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to notice just how shocked you are as he places the bags on his bed and insists you look through them. You do as he says, feeling an intruding warmth fill your chest.

“Why’d you get me shoes?” You wonder when you open the Louboutin box.

“The shoes you came with don’t go with the dress I got you.”

His words make your heart thump with adoration that can’t be stifled. Heat spreads across your face as you hastily thank him before hurrying into the bathroom with the toiletries he bought for you so he can’t see just how much his actions affected you. It’s hard to ignore all the emotions gathering in your chest. Jeonghan is an exceptionally good actor, but you keep wondering why he's going this far. What’s worse is that you can’t say you hate it. Actually, you probably like it a little too much.

When you’re done showering, you dry your hair and try on the dress Jeonghan bought you. It’s snug against your frame, and you have to marvel at the fact that he actually did a great job choosing your size. You tentatively step out of the bathroom to see Jeonghan sitting on the bed occupied with his phone. It feels like the air is knocked out of him when he looks up to see you dressed in something he picked out and bought for you.

“Want to get breakfast?”

You try to ignore the fact that you’re playing a dangerous game by blurring the lines you’ve drawn when you say yes.

“Should we breakup before I go to Milan or after I come back from Paris?”

Your question is so casual that Jeonghan almost thinks he didn’t hear you right. He looks up from his phone to see you pulling out a suitcase from your closet. It’s almost painful that you don’t seem to realize how much your words have affected him.

“Breakup?” He repeats, throat going dry and heart sinking.

The way you nod normally like he doesn’t feel sick to his stomach has him reeling. “Yeah. Our parents are mad enough now, and the semester is almost over so I’ll start taking online classes again.”

Your reasoning makes sense (maybe a little too much), but Jeonghan really can’t accept what you’re saying. All that registers is the fact that you’re leaving and planning on having nothing to do with him anymore.

“You’re not coming back?”

You wonder if he actually sounds disappointed or if it’s just you wishing that he does. Either way, you can’t let him know that you feel like your heart is being ripped out because you’re asking to plan your breakup. “My agency only agreed to let me take classes in person for a semester. After the scandal I had with you, they don’t want me coming back again.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

You try to pretend like his words don’t evoke an emotion out of you that you should definitely not feel for him.

“And I don’t want to breakup.”

The silence is heavy. It isn’t easy to not interpret his words as a plea to stay because he has feelings for you. Especially since you’re sure that’s not what he means. “If it’s about your dad we can—”

“This has nothing to do with my dad.” Jeonghan says, frustrated that you’re not understanding how he's feeling. “This is about you and me—about us.”

It’s strange to think that there is an us when it comes to you and Jeonghan now, but he can’t let you fly across the world without letting you know how he feels.

“You have to know that this isn’t fake to me.” He says, more nervous and determined than ever.

You can’t say anything. Not because you think it’s some joke or that he’s not being sincere, but because you can’t believe these feelings that had been flourishing since you two decided to let go of the past are being reciprocated.

“I know you probably still hate me, and I don’t blame you if you do. Back then, I ruined your life because I was insecure and wanted to make my dad proud. And now because of me, you won’t be able to come back to school even though going to this university has been your dream since we were kids.” Jeonghan soldiers on even though every single emotion is trying to peak through. “I’m an idiot to realize it so late, and I’m a bigger one to be apologizing to you only now.”

Jeonghan walks toward you until he’s directly in front of you. Just as you hope he seals his apology with a kiss, he falls to his knees, bunny-like eyes looking at you imploringly.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m going to ask for your forgiveness anyway. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you since you came back into my life.” He’s close to tears as he grabs your hands. “I’ll do anything for your forgiveness. Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”

Your heart is thumping so erratically that it feels like it’s on the verge of exploding. Yoon Jeonghan is on his knees in front of you, eyes wet and pleading for you to forgive him. The onslaught of emotions you feel are scrambling your brain to the point where you can hardly think. “Hannie...”

The nickname makes him hopeful that maybe he can earn your forgiveness. He grips your hands a little tighter and gently uses his thumbs to caress the back of your hands.

“I don’t hate you, and I already forgave a long time ago.” You confess with a smile, heart still pounding.

Jeonghan stands and crushes you with a hug, body sagging in relief to know that you don’t hate him. He closes his eyes as he buries his face into your neck. The anxiety he was feeling fades away as he basks in your embrace.

“I’m sorry too.” Your apology is slightly muffled. “I was wrong to make your life a living hell, and I hope you can also forgive me.”

Jeonghan hugs you tighter. “I already have. It’s not like I didn't deserve it.”

You two laugh a bit until you pull back to look at your (fake?) boyfriend. “You really don’t want to be away from me?”

Jeonghan pouts and nods. He briefly thinks he might have to hang a sign around his neck for you to realize he never wants you to leave his side.

“Why?”

You need to hear him say it. This way, you’ll know for sure that you’re not just lucid dreaming.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Jeonghan never thought he could miss someone as much as he missed you. He’s surprised that it can feel like you’ve been away from him for years when in reality it’s only been a week. Not that it matters because he finally has you in his arms again. And he plans on showering you with love before you have to leave for Paris.

“I missed you so much.”

You feel breathless when Jeonghan’s lips mold against yours, not giving you a chance to say that you missed him too. He’s nestled between your legs as his lips devour yours, not caring that he’s been in the same position for the last fifteen minutes. Jeonghan can’t get enough of you, and he’s only gotten a small taste.

The whine you let out when Jeonghan’s tongue starts to play with yours is so hot that he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. One of his hands trails down your body to grab a handful of your ass before smoothing over your thigh to hook your leg over his hip. You moan into his mouth as your core grinds into his hardening dick.

Finally, you pull away from him, pupils blown wide with lust. “Missed you so much, Hannie.”

Your boyfriend gently grinds down in order to hear another one of your sensual moans. His dark eyes are staring at you with so much desire that your cunt starts to pulse at the thought of having him carnally.

“Let me show you how much I missed you.”

Jeonghan is patient as he undresses you. It’s a contrast to the way he quickly strips his own clothes. You know it’s because your dress is a custom gift from Wen Junhui, and it makes your heart warm and cunt drip with more slick at the thought that he actually remembered.

When he settles his head between your legs and spreads you open, you feel a bashful heat course through your body. Jeonghan is staring straight at your core with the most heated gaze you’ve ever received from a man. “Fuck. I knew you were pretty everywhere.”

Jeonghan’s gives your pussy a harsh slap, earning a surprised moan from you. He soothes the sting by gently rubbing his fingers against your clit, loving how wet your pussy keeps getting. Any coherent response you’re thinking of is quick to disappear when Jeonghan dives into your awaiting cunt. His tongue laps and slobbers all over your drooling lips, messily making out with the heaven between your legs.

The way Jeonghan is groaning into your pussy in absolute pleasure makes you grind you cunt into his mouth, moaning and crying out in just as much pleasure. His fingers flex into the flesh of your soft thighs as they lock around his head. Jeonghan greedily licks every inch of your sopping cunt, chin and cheeks increasingly becoming covered in your sweet juices as they drip down to the sheets below him.

“Fuck, Hannie!” You cry out with a jolt, hips rolling incessantly into his mouth. “Keep doing that! Feels so good.”

“Yeah? Like it how I fuck you with my tongue, darling?” He rasps burying his face deeper into your hot cunt.

You’re slowly slipping into a euphoric state that won’t allow you to think straight, and you’re only able to stay coherent because he pulls away momentarily to slide his fingers between your folds. He lewdly spreads you open before diving back in, slurping up every last bit of your juices. The taste of you had his cock twitching and throbbing between his thighs.

Jeonghan groans when your fingers slide into his hair as your pussy keeps getting tighter around his tongue. The room in the air feels hot as he continues to lap at your cunt, and you can only pant and moan as you feel a familiar feeling pooling in your stomach.

The entire lower half of his face feels sticky, but Jeonghan needs more. Wants it to be messier. His hands slip under to grab your ass and push you deeper on his tongue. Lewd squelches mix in with your cries of pleasure as he fucks you with his tongue. You feel your eyes roll back and your back arch when he gently starts to circle your puffy clit. Jeonghan then wraps his lips around it before sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuck.” You moan out. “Jeonghan! Gonna come!”

His tongue rolls the sensitive bud as you jerk in his hold. Jeonghan’s groans are only turning you on even more because you can tell he’s enjoying this as much as you are. The arousal he feels has his cock aching for any sort of friction, but he’s just so lost in you that he can’t really care that his erection is starting to hurt. Honestly, he feels like he could eat you out forever.

“So fucking good.” You babble as your clit knocks against his nose with every buck of your hips.

You jolt when you feel Jeonghan suck your clit between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive bud until your orgasm finally washes over you. Instead of pulling away, he pulls you closer and laps up your cream, slurping up everything you have to offer him. Precum gathers at the tip of his aching cock that he can feel it staining his underwear, but he’s too focused on you creaming on his tongue to care.

Your body goes slack after you ride out your orgasm. Jeonghan pulls a way from your cunt with a satisfied smirk. He wastes no time in getting rid of his underwear, leaking cock springing up with a wet slap against his lower abdomen after he takes it off. You lick your you lips and pull him closer to you as you’re eager to feel his skin on yours again.

“Like what you see, darling?” Jeonghan coos with a cocky smirk.

He’s stroking his thick cock slowly as he watches your eyes fix on the girth between his legs, raking them over him slowly with unmistakeable hunger. His cock is as pretty as he is; long and thick with the bulbous head oozing plenty of precum. The veins running alongside it have your cunt aching in need to feel them drag along your walls. Jeonghan undoubtedly has one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever seen, and you whine out in need as you cling to his neck. Your hips buck up on their own, desperate to feel even the slightest bit of friction.

“Don’t tease me.” You pout, eyes blinking up at him pleadingly.

That face you’re making is dangerous, Jeonghan thinks. It’s capable of getting you whatever you want. He has to close his eyes and exhale deeply when you snake a hand between your bodies and grip his cock, squeezing gently to goad him into fucking you. It’s hot and heavy in your hand and wet with his precum. Your hand drags over him in slow strokes.

“I want you so bad.” You whine into his ear. “Please.”

“You—“ He breathes with a stutter, hips slowly rolling into your hand. “Y-You have to answer me first, baby.”

You roll your thumb over his weeping tip, collecting the wet bead of his precum before smearing it along his cock. His whimpers and moans are so pretty, and you just revel in the sounds that you’re emmiting from him.

“Tell me. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“Want your cock, Hannie. It’s so pretty—need it inside me.” You mewl as you squeeze the base of his dick.

Jeonghan lets out a chuckle that’s breathy against your ear. It sounds smug despite the blush spreading on his face. “Think it’s pretty, huh? The prettiest cock you’ve ever seen?”

“Mhm.” You moan as he slides his tip up and down your entrance, collecting your juices along his cock before he slaps your cunt with his dick.

Finally, he relents and slowly pushes past your wet folds. You both let out loud moans at the feeling of each other. Jeonghan feels like he’s in heaven with how your hot, tight cunt is gripping his cock while you feel a burning pleasure licking up your entire body as his big cock splits you open.

“Fuh-Fuck, darling. Tight little pussy’s gonna drive me crazy.” He groans before leaning forward to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, tongue exploring your mouth as he drinks in your moans.

You whimper and whine into his mouth, eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he slowly starts to fuck his cock into you. Jeonghan pulls away with a deep groan. His eyes roll to the back of his head as your tight cunt squeezes his dick. Your arms a wrap around his neck as your legs do the same around his waist. Jeonghan’s cock throbs, nearly coming at the sight of your mouth hanging open in pleasure.

“Such a pretty little cunt. And it’s all for me.”

“Only for you, babe.” You say through a moan, bucking your hips up to meet his slow thrusts.

Your actions make his cock hit deep inside you, the leaking tip brushing against your sweet spot. A wanton moan escapes you at the feeling. You arch your back in absolute pleasure, not believing that he’s able to reach that deep inside you. Jeonghan smirks at your reaction, loving how you’re already so lost on his cock. His hips keep rolling against yours, forcing his thick cock in and out of your tight pussy.

Jeonghan is splitting you open as he fucks his cock into you. Your head is swimming from the pleasure as he picks up his pace. His moans only add to your pleasure. You can feel his pelvis brushing your pulsing clit with every harsh snap of his hips. The carnal sound of his cock slipping in and out of your cunt paired with the slapping of skin is making your velvety walls clamp down on him tighter.

“Fuck, Hannie. Harder! Fuck me harder!” You beg, bucking your hips to match his thrusts.

You’re both panting harshly as you feel the delicious pleasure build steadily. It spreads from your legs and along your spine until it consumes you completely. Jeonghan is quickly becoming obsessed with the sight of you under him, pretty tits bouncing every time he sharply snaps his hips. He spreads your legs to see the erotic sight of your juices frothing at the base of his dick and sliding down his heavy sack.

“Cockhungry angel wants more?” Jeonghan coos, driving his hips deeper so his cock is slamming against your sweet spot, sending your vision white. “You can have more, love. Because this is your cock. All yours.”

His words make you become impossibly tight. Your velvety walls make him choke out a loud moan. It’s almost hard for him to move with how tight your pussy keeps getting. The sight of your cream coating his cock as it disappears into your hot cunt only makes his snap his hips harder, eager to feel you come undone on his dick.

“Mine.” Your babble sounds so possessive yet fucked out that Jeonghan can’t help but moan along with you.

“Yours.” He confirms through his deep groans. “Cock fits inside your little pussy like it was made for you.”

“Hannie!” You cry out, feeling drunk on how his veiny cock drags against your walls. “If you k-keep saying things like that—!”

He smirks, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek—an action too tender for how he’s ravishing you. “What, baby? You’re gonna gush all over me? Cover this cock with your sweet cream?”

His thumb trails down to your aching clit and starts to rub fast circles along the sensitive bud. Jeonghan does this until you break. Your thighs tremble as your gummy walls flutter around his cock. If only you could see the literal heart eyes your boyfriend is staring at you with as your pretty face contorts in pleasure as you fall apart on his cock. He’s never seen a more perfect sight, and he’s sure to commit it to memory as your orgasm spurts all over his cock, marking him with your essence in the most obscene way.

The slam of his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm bordering on too much as you whimper in his arms. Those cute little mewls turn into cries when he keeps going, so drunk in you that he can’t stop. The sound of your moans and the way you suck him in as you cream around his cock makes Jeonghan’s head fall into your neck. His thrusts are turning sloppy as he whimpers gently against your skin.

“I love you.” He pants into your skin, choking on moans as he pumps his cum into your cunt. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Hannie.” You mewl, loving the feeling of his cum filling you up.

You feel the mixture of his release and your slick trailing down the sides of your thighs. It’s so messy that you can’t help but crave more. Jeonghan’s breathing is heavy as he places gentle kisses on your neck. Neither of you can ignore the pulsing of his fat cock still inside you. He fucks his cum into you a bit more before slowly pulling out, enjoying the sight of his thick cum leaking down to your asshole. Your pretty pussy is pulsing as more thick cum squeezes out.

Jeonghan’s massaging a palm on the inside of your sticky thigh to keep your legs spread for his eyes when you say the words that make his cock twitch and ache all over again.

“Keep stuffing me full of cum, baby.”

It’s so easy to slide his cock back into your creamy pussy. You clench tightly as he draws back, then forward again. His thick dick stretches you open so deliciously that you can’t hold back your cries of pleasure. He’s balls deep inside your hot cunt, his pelvis brushing against your aching nub. Your vision goes blurry as he hits so deep. Jeonghan hooks one of your knees over his shoulder so he can slide in deeper.

“I’m going to fill you up. Gonna come in this pretty pussy and fuck you until you can’t take anymore.” Jeonghan groans as you mewl and whimper underneath him.

He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging the nub with his teeth, groping your other tit. You’re already so damn sensitive and arch into his touch. “Ah, Hannie!”

“Mmh.” He groans, releasing the hardened bud with a lewd pop as you clench around him.

Jeonghan starts fucking you slowly, letting you feel every vein along your pulsating walls. From tip to base, he feeds your tight hole like it’s starving. You whimper at the feeling, moans slipping out of you when he picks up speed. The tip of his dick rams into your cervix and makes you see stars. You’re so hot and messy already, your slick and his cum creating a ring around the fat base of his cock.

Dark eyes flicker between your sloppy hole and your fucked out face. Jeonghan can’t decide which is more obscene, but he loves both sights so much. His big cock spreads you wide, a euphoric burn blooming in your little pussy as your juices spill out. The cry you let out makes him kiss you. It’s soft in contrast to his length spearing you open. His tongue slips into your mouth, massaging yours as he swallows your moans.

Jeonghan traces tracing over your stretched hole to your fluttering clit, rubbing in hard circles as you keep crying out for him. He keeps pounding into you, your body moving up the bed with the sheer force.

“So fucking good!” Your mouth falls open in a moan as he rams into your sweet spot, that familiar electricity streaming through your body.

You can feel his pelvic bone pressing against your clit as his dick spears deeper. You’re squirming against your boyfriend, full and cockdrunk as he keeps rubbing his fingers on your clit. The toe-curling orgasm strikes so abruptly that you don’t expect it. Your juices squirt out all over Jeonghan’s length and his pelvis.

His thickness continues to invade your convulsing walls, almost brutally but you take it, gasping as your mind goes foggy.

“Fuck, darling. Keep soaking my cock like that.”

Your tits bounce as he fucks you harder, ramming into your sweet spot. You can’t process anything over the squelching noises and the sounds of your moans. Jeonghan groans, cursing lowly as you squeeze around him, begging for his cum. He grinds sinfully into your spasming cunt until he releases his hot cum into your pussy, filling you to the brim.

In utter pleasure, Jeonghan rocks into you with abandon, spurred on by your cries and your nails digging into his shoulders as his pelvis rubs your humming clit. His warmth spreads within you, leaking out from around his throbbing girth as his hips slow to a stop. You soften to quiet whimpers when he lets go of your leg, nuzzling into his neck in a daze.

Neither of you move, too lost in the feeling of each other’s arms to care about anything else.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

#svthub #jeonghan smut #svt smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #svt x reader #jeonghan x you #svt x you #jeonghan imagines #svt imagines #yoon jeonghan x reader

[hoshifighting]

Synopsis: Once inseparable childhood friends, their bond takes an unexpected turn when you start dating in middle school. Jeonghan's behavior becomes increasingly erratic, transforming him from a supportive friend to a constant source of annoyance. Now, in college, the tables turn, but Jeonghan remains a delightful pain in the ass as old flames are rekindled in the midst of playful banter and undeniable attraction.

Word Count: 6.6k

Soccer Player! Reader, Soccer Player! Jeonghan - Enemies to Lovers

Warnings: smut, reader get pissed asf and beat Jeonghan's ass, unprotected sex, chocking, hair pulling, mentions of violence and aggression, oral (f. receiving), clit stimulation, finger sucking and etc.

In the sprawling grounds of your childhood, Jeonghan and you were inseparable. You spent endless afternoons kicking a worn-out soccer ball around, dreaming of the day you'd play together on the same team. You'd laugh, plan silly pranks, and talk about everything under the sun. But things changed when you started dating someone in middle school.

It was innocent, a fluttering crush that led to hand-holding and stolen glances. It wasn't meant to come between Jeonghan and you, but it did. Suddenly, his jokes turned sharper, the shoulder bumps felt like intentional jabs, and he even started bending the rules during games at frat parties. It felt like he was retaliating for your decision, and you couldn't understand why.

Confused and hurt by the sudden change, you distanced yourself from Jeonghan, and the friendship that had weathered the storms of childhood slowly faded away. The once inseparable duo became strangers, and you never got a chance to ask him what went wrong.

Years later, in the hallowed halls of college, your paths crossed again. Both of you were now dedicated athletes, pursuing your passion for soccer at the collegiate level. Your common friends couldn't help but notice the peculiar dynamic between you and Jeonghan. They often questioned why he treated you the way he did.

The setting sun cast long shadows across the soccer field as you and your friends left the practice session, laughter and banter filling the air. The atmosphere was light, and the camaraderie among teammates was palpable. Little did you know, the calm before the storm was just around the corner.

As you approached the locker room, still basking in the post-practice glow, you suddenly stumbled over someone's soccer cleats. Before you could hit the ground, Seungkwan, one of Jeonghan's friends, swiftly caught you, preventing a potential fall. Confused, you looked around and noticed Jeonghan standing nearby, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

The exchange didn't go unnoticed by your friends and Jeonghan's group. They exchanged glances, the air growing thick with tension. Jeonghan's friends raised questioning eyebrows, seemingly as surprised as your friends.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Seungkwan asked, concern evident in his eyes.

"Yeah, thanks to you," you replied, shooting a pointed look at Jeonghan, who was pretending to be innocent.

Your friends and Jeonghan's friends exchanged puzzled glances, sensing an underlying tension. "What's going on here?" one of your friends asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Before you could respond, another friend chimed in, "And why did Jeonghan just let you stumble like that? Is he okay?"

Jeonghan's friends looked at him, awaiting an explanation. Your friends, on the other hand, turned to you, expecting some clarification.

You took a deep breath, trying to contain your frustration. "I have no idea what's going on with Jeonghan," you said, shooting him a piercing glare. "But it's clear he's up to something, and I'm not in the mood for his games."

Jeonghan feigned innocence, a playful smile still on his face. "Games? Who, me? Nah, I was just standing here minding my own business," he said, shrugging.

Your jaw clenched as you fought the urge to respond. Instead, you turned away, leaving your friends behind, both groups noting the storm brewing within you. The air was thick with tension as you walked away, the unspoken question lingering in the minds of your friends and Jeonghan's group.

The locker room buzzed with excitement as you and your friends prepared for Soonyoung's party. The air was thick with hairspray and the lingering scent of sweat from the day's soccer practice. You sat on the bench, applying moisturizer to your tired legs, the cool cream a welcome relief after a rigorous workout. The dress you had chosen for the evening hung on the nearby hook, and you adjusted its hem, ensuring it fell just right.

As you meticulously prepared for the night ahead, your mind wandered back to Jeonghan's recent antics. A frown creased your forehead, and you let out an exasperated sigh. "I can't believe he pulled that stunt again. What's his problem?" you muttered, your frustration evident in your voice.

Your friend, sitting beside you, glanced up from her own makeup routine. "Jeonghan? What did he do now?" she asked, concern etching her features.

You rolled your eyes, recounting the incident with Seungkwan catching you and Jeonghan's apparent amusement. "He's just being his usual self—playing silly games and trying to get under my skin. It's like he's on a mission to annoy me today," you grumbled, the irritation evident in your tone.

Your friend sighed, setting down her makeup to focus on you. "You know how he is. Don't let him ruin your mood. It's Soonyoung's party, and we're here to have fun," she said, offering you a reassuring smile.

You nodded, appreciating her attempt to calm your brewing frustration. "I know, I know. But sometimes, he just gets on my nerves, and I can't figure out why he's like that."

With a soft chuckle, your friend gently pulled you into a side hug. "Maybe he's just Jeonghan, being Jeonghan. You can't change that, but you can control how you react. Don't let him ruin your night. We're here to dance, laugh, and enjoy. Let's focus on that, okay?"

She then turned her attention to your hair, expertly weaving a simple yet elegant hairstyle. The rhythmic motion of her hands and the comforting presence of your friend helped ease the tension that had built up. You took a deep breath, deciding to take her advice to heart.

"You're right. Let's forget about Jeonghan and have an amazing night," you said, forcing a smile as you shifted your focus back to the excitement of the party ahead.

Soonyoung's house pulsated with music and laughter as you and your friends embraced the vibrant atmosphere of the party. The beats compelled everyone to move, and you found yourself in the center of the makeshift dance floor, swaying to the rhythm with carefree abandon.

Soonyoung, the life of the party, approached you with a mischievous grin. "Y/N, you've got some moves! Are you sure you're not a secret dance prodigy?" he exclaimed, playfully exaggerating his surprise.

You laughed, the music drowning out your response, but you playfully mimed a humble acknowledgment. The two of you danced together for a while, and Soonyoung's infectious energy was contagious, adding to the carefree spirit of the night.

As you grooved to the music, Mingyu, a tall and athletic figure from the men's soccer team, made his way through the crowd towards you. He leaned in to talk in your ear, his voice barely audible over the booming music. "Hey, about the games next week, we're having joint practice sessions for both teams. You'll need to be close to me for some of the drills, okay?" he explained, his warm breath tickling your ear.

You nodded in agreement, giving him a thumbs up to signal that you understood the plan for the upcoming practices. Mingyu smiled and excused himself, disappearing back into the crowd.

Just as you turned to share the news with your friends, one of them pulled you aside, her expression serious. "Y/N, you might want to look behind you. Jeonghan looks like he's ready to burn holes into your soul with that glare of his," she warned, a hint of concern in her voice.

Confused, you glanced over your shoulder to find Jeonghan, indeed, shooting daggers at you with intense eyes. He was sipping from a red cup, his expression unreadable. You turned back to your friend, your face betraying a mix of surprise and discomfort.

"Why is he looking at me like that?" you asked, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

"He's probably not thrilled about you getting cozy with Mingyu," your friend speculated, a knowing look in her eyes.

You sighed, feeling the weight of Jeonghan's gaze on you. "Well, it's not like Mingyu and I were dancing intimately or anything. It was just about the soccer practice."

Before you could dwell on it further, Soonyoung grabbed a microphone, calling everyone's attention. "Alright, party people! Who's up for a game? Gather 'round!"

The game of "Musical Chairs" had escalated to a nail-biting climax, leaving only one chair in the center of the circle. To your surprise and dismay, Jeonghan emerged as your final opponent. The tension between you two had already been palpable, and now it seemed like the universe had conspired to put you in a face-off.

As the music stopped, you quickly claimed the last chair, ready to breathe a sigh of relief. However, before you could fully settle, Jeonghan decided to add a twist. In a daring move, he pulled the chair out from under you, leaving you flat on the floor, much to the shock of the onlookers.

A collective gasp echoed through the room, and someone in the background shouted, "He cheated!" Of course he cheated. 

Without a second thought, you sprang to your feet, rage burning in your eyes. The buzz of screams around you became a distant hum as you leaped onto Jeonghan, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The chaotic scene was cut short as people rushed to pull you away from Jeonghan, attempting to defuse the situation. You found yourself sitting on a nearby couch, your face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Jeonghan, on the other hand, sat in the opposite corner, arms crossed, with noticeable nail marks on his neck courtesy of your unbridled fury.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, punctuated only by the hushed whispers and concerned glances exchanged between partygoers. Your friends shot you apologetic looks, clearly sensing the tension in the air.

After a brief pause, Jeonghan's friends took charge, ushering him to a separate corner for what seemed like a stern talking-to. Meanwhile, your friends approached you, expressions a mix of concern and amusement.

"Y/N, are you okay?" one of your friends asked, patting you on the back.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the embarrassment. "I'm fine. It's just... Jeonghan being Jeonghan," you replied, attempting to downplay the situation.

Amidst the residual tension and the discomfort of being in the same room as Jeonghan after the chaotic "Musical Chairs" incident, you felt a wave of frustration wash over you. Without a second thought, you began searching for your handbag and jacket, determined to leave.

"I've had enough," you muttered to yourself, the irritation evident in your voice.

Your friends and some of Jeonghan's friends noticed your abrupt movement and stepped in, attempting to halt your exit.

"Y/N, wait, don't go!" one of your friends called out, concern etched on her face.

Another friend from Jeonghan's group chimed in, "Come on, it was just a silly game. Don't let that ruin your night."

But you were resolute, determined to distance yourself from the escalating tension. "I can't deal with this anymore. Every time it's the same, and I'm done," you stated firmly, your tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Jeonghan's friends tried to reason with you. "He didn't mean for things to get out of hand. You know how he is," one of them pleaded, attempting to diffuse the situation.

You paused, torn between frustration and understanding. "I get it, but there's a limit. This has gone too far," you replied, your voice tinged with exasperation.

Jeonghan, sensing the gravity of the situation, looked conflicted from across the room, his expression a mix of regret and concern. He made a move as if to say something, but hesitated, unsure how to approach the situation.

But you had made up your mind. Ignoring the attempts to convince you otherwise, you swiftly grabbed your belongings and made for the door, your determination unwavering. The echoes of your friends' and Jeonghan's friends' voices calling after you faded as you stepped out into the cool night air.

The sound of the door closing behind you marked the end of a tumultuous night at Soonyoung's party. Outside, you took a deep breath, the weight of the evening slowly lifting as you prepared to leave the tensions of the night behind and head home. Sometimes, setting boundaries and taking a step back was necessary, even if it meant leaving a party prematurely.

The week had been a blur of training sessions and preparations for the upcoming game, leaving you with little time to dwell on the events of Soonyoung's party. As you walked through the university garden on a crisp Monday morning, the weight of the week's responsibilities pressed upon you. Your mind was focused on the game ahead, and you had almost forgotten about the tension with Jeonghan.

However, as you approached the entrance to your classroom, you were met with an unexpected sight. Jeonghan and his friends stood there, creating an invisible barrier between you and the classroom door. The air thickened with anticipation as you hesitated, catching your breath.

Not wanting to escalate the situation, you offered a curt nod and a short greeting, "Hi," before attempting to walk past them into the classroom.

Seungcheol, one of Jeonghan's friends, took a step forward. "Wait, Y/N. There's something Jeonghan needs to say," he said, his tone commanding.

You sighed, crossing your arms, signaling your readiness to listen but maintaining a defensive posture. The empty classroom echoed with silence as you waited.

Seungcheol turned to Jeonghan, his grip on Jeonghan's uniform firm. "Go on, say what you need to say," he instructed.

Jeonghan hesitated, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. After a moment, he managed to mumble, "Sorry, Y/N."

You squinted your eyes, incredulous. "Is that really coming from you?" you asked, your voice skeptical.

Seungcheol's grip tightened for a moment, a silent reminder to Jeonghan to speak sincerely. Lowering his head with a visible sense of regret, Jeonghan repeated, "I'm really sorry about that," his apology sounding more genuine this time.

You raised an eyebrow but remained silent, waiting to see if there was anything more to his apology.

After an awkward pause, Jeonghan bowed, a gesture of contrition, before hastily leaving the classroom. The door swung shut behind him, Seungcheol lingered for a moment, meeting your gaze with a nod of acknowledgement. Without saying a word, he followed Jeonghan out of the classroom, leaving you to contemplate the unexpected encounter.

The soccer field buzzed with the energy of the morning practice as both the men's and women's teams warmed up for the upcoming game. You were in the midst of your pre-game routine, jogging and stretching alongside your teammates, anticipation building for the match ahead.

The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, and both teams began weaving across the field in a display of skill and strategy. The intensity of the game kept you focused until an unexpected jolt of pain shot through the posterior part of your thigh, causing you to crumple to the ground in discomfort.

The trainer quickly halted the game, and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to endure the sharp pain. Soon, you felt hands carefully stretching your leg to alleviate the cramp. Assuming it was one of your teammates, you didn't pay much attention until you opened your eyes and realized it wasn't just anyone—it was Jeonghan.

He held your feet against his shoulder, applying gentle pressure to help ease the pain. The memories of your childhood flashed before your eyes—times when you had done the same for him. You brushed the nostalgia away, focusing on the present moment.

The trainer instructed you to move to the bench for further treatment, and you hopped on one foot, trying to shake off the discomfort. Sitting on the bench, frustration etched across your face, you couldn't help but feel unsatisfied with your performance being cut short by the unexpected cramp.

Jeonghan approached, concern evident in his eyes. "Are you okay, Y/N?" he asked, his voice carrying a genuine worry.

You shot him a quick glance, a mix of irritation and pain on your face. "I'll be fine. Just a cramp. It's nothing," you replied tersely, trying to downplay the situation.

Jeonghan hovered, unsure of how to respond. "If there's anything I can do—"

You cut him off, your tone a blend of frustration and dismissal. "I've got it, Jeonghan. Just focus on the game."

The sun blazed overhead as you continued your solo training on the field, determined to push yourself beyond the limits. The intensity of the game had faded into the background, and now it was just you, the field, and the relentless heat. Water bottles scattered around you, evidence of the effort you were putting in.

Lost in your focus, you were suddenly brought back to reality when you noticed Jeonghan sitting on the bench nearby, his arms crossed. It was then that you realized you had lost track of time.

"How long have you been sitting there?" you asked, wiping sweat from your forehead.

Jeonghan remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the field. "Long enough to know it's not safe to train under this sun," he finally responded.

You scoffed, dismissing his concern. "I need to train, Jeonghan. I can't afford to slack off."

He sighed, uncrossing his arms. "And that's exactly why you ended up with a cramp earlier. Your muscles are exhausted."

The tension between you and Jeonghan simmered as you prepared to leave the field, feeling a mixture of frustration and reluctance to accept his advice. As you rose from the bench, ready to head towards the locker rooms, Jeonghan's hand reached out, gently gripping your wrist.

"You've always been stubborn," he remarked, his voice soft yet firm.

You turned to face him, a flash of irritation crossing your features. "It's not like you care anyway," you retorted, trying to pull your wrist from his grasp.

You pulled your wrist from his grip, shooting him a sharp look. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Jeonghan sighed, choosing his words carefully. "I remember when we were kids, you were always determined and driven. But now, it's like your determination has turned into something else—an edge, a sharpness."

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Well, maybe if you hadn't been such a pain in the ass all these years, I wouldn't need an edge to deal with you."

As Jeonghan mumbled something about Eunwoo— your ex-boyfriend from middle school — ruining everything, your curiosity was piqued. You turned your ear towards him, a puzzled expression on your face. "Who? Eunwoo? What does he have to do with anything?"

Jeonghan's eyes widened, a brief moment of panic crossing his face. He stammered, attempting to deny any connection, but the truth was written all over his expression. It was clear – he was jealous of Eunwoo.

Your mind clicked into place, connecting the dots. "Wait a minute... are you telling me you've been jealous of Eunwoo?"

Jeonghan hesitated, avoiding eye contact, but the admission lingered in the air. A mix of surprise and realization played on your features. "Seriously? You've been jealous this whole time?"

He shifted uncomfortably, searching for words. "It's not like that! I just... I've known you for so long, and seeing you with someone else—"

You cut him off, unable to contain a laugh. "Jeonghan, are you kidding me? You've been acting like this because of jealousy?"

He looked a bit sheepish but attempted to maintain his composure. "It's not just jealousy. It's just... complicated."

You couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief. "Complicated? Jeonghan, you've been playing games, making jokes, and being a pain in the ass, all because of some weird, complicated jealousy thing?"

The revelation that Jeonghan's years of stubborn behavior were rooted in jealousy over a mere one-month affair left you both astonished and perplexed. As you walked towards the locker rooms, the air hung heavy with unspoken thoughts, and you couldn't hold back from addressing the situation.

"You mean to tell me that all these years of your antics and stubbornness were because of a one-month affair?" you asked, disbelief coloring your tone.

Jeonghan avoided direct eye contact, a sheepish expression on his face. "I didn't plan for things to get this complicated. It just happened."

You shook your head in amazement. "Jeonghan, we've been friends for so long. Why didn't you just talk to me about it? You let this jealousy fester for years over something so trivial?"

"I thought if I acted like it didn't bother me, it would go away. Clearly, that didn't work." He points, creating a silence between you two.

You couldn't help but notice the faint marks on his skin from the intense encounter during the party. The remnants of your frustration were etched in the form of nail marks, a visual reminder of the heated exchange.

After a moment of contemplation, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Hey, Jeonghan, about the party... I'm sorry about, you know, beating your ass," you said, gesturing towards the marks on his neck. "But, honestly, you kind of deserved it."

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, "No need to apologize, Y/N. I probably deserved it."

You raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in your voice, "Deserved it? What's that supposed to mean?"

Jeonghan sighed, admitting, "Well, maybe I've been a bit of a pain lately, and I needed a wake-up call."

You crossed your arms, still not fully convinced, "So, you intentionally provoked me?"

He nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips, "Yeah, but not because I enjoy getting my ass kicked. I just... I didn't know how else to deal with everything, and it all got a bit out of hand."

You let out a small huff, "Well, next time, try talking instead of provoking. It might save you some nail marks."

Jeonghan chuckled at your apology, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. Nail marks come with the territory, and I can handle a bit of rough play."

You shot him a skeptical look, "You're awfully calm about having marks on your neck."

He winked, a playful smirk on his face, "Actually, I find it kind of sexy. Adds a bit of excitement, you know?"

You rolled your eyes, not entirely convinced by his nonchalant attitude. "Well, I'm not planning on making a habit out of beating you up."

Jeonghan laughed, "Fair enough, but if you ever feel the need to express your frustrations again, just aim for my back next time. It might be a bit more enjoyable for both of us."

Your eyes widened at his bold suggestion, "Are you serious?"

He shrugged, a playful glint still in his eyes, "Why not? It's all in good fun."

You shook your head, a mix of amusement and disbelief. "You're impossible, Jeonghan."

[...]

The week leading up to the game passed in a surprisingly calm manner. Jeonghan's demeanor had shifted, and the lingering tension that once colored your interactions had dissipated. His jokes were now more lighthearted, and both of your groups could finally enjoy lunch without the threat of any neck-ripping incidents.

As the day of the game approached, nervous anticipation settled in. The stakes were high, and the pressure was palpable. On the field, the air crackled with a mix of excitement and tension as the moment of truth drew near.

The referee's whistle pierced the air, signaling the start of the game. You, alongside your teammates, advanced with determination. The match was tight, a fierce competition between your team and the opposing university. The score remained deadlocked, each side vying for that crucial goal that could tip the scales in their favor.

With only moments left before the game would potentially go into penalties, an opportunity presented itself. The goalkeeper seemed far, and the ball rolled towards you. It was your chance. With a burst of adrenaline, you sprinted towards the goal, the crowd's cheers blending into a distant roar.

In that critical moment, you kicked the ball with precision, the satisfying thud echoing through the stadium as it sank into the net. The eruption of cheers from the crowd was deafening, and your teammates rushed to embrace you.

Amidst the chaos of celebrating students flooding onto the field, your friends engulfed you in hugs, relishing the triumph, but your gaze was drawn towards Jeonghan. His seated figure and the small punches he absentmindedly threw into the air betrayed a different, quieter emotion. It was a momentary glimpse behind the facade he often wore, revealing a side of him that wasn't always apparent.

The day had been long and exhausting, and the comfort of a warm bath had been a much-needed respite. As the echo of the doorbell reached your ears, you wrapped yourself in a robe, moving swiftly to answer it.

Opening the door just a crack, you peeked out, surprised to find Jeonghan standing in the hallway. "Jeonghan?" you questioned, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

He met your gaze with a warm smile. "Hey, I wanted to congratulate you," he said, a sense of genuine admiration in his tone.

Pausing for a moment, you hesitated before deciding to let him in. Opening the door wider, you gestured for him to step inside your dorm room. Jeonghan entered, a look of determination on his face.

Without warning, he wrapped his arms around you in an unexpected hug, catching you off guard. The embrace was surprisingly comforting, the warmth of his presence a stark contrast to the hectic day.

"Thanks, Y/N," he murmured, his voice soft.

For a moment, you were taken aback by the sudden intimacy. His gesture felt sincere, and as he pulled away, there was a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn't seen before.

"Um, thanks," you managed, feeling a mixture of surprise and gratitude.

Jeonghan smiled warmly, the tension of the day momentarily forgotten. "I just wanted to say it in person. You did great."

"I did, didn't I?" you teased with a playful grin, breaking the silence that lingered in your room.

Jeonghan scoffed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, you did."

An air of uncertainty settled between you as he fidgeted, his hands finding refuge in his pockets. The room was charged with unspoken tension, both of you seemingly on the edge of something unexplored.

After a few moments of hesitation, Jeonghan let out a sigh, a resigned "fuck it" escaping his lips. In an instant, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a surprising and passionate kiss. The shock sent a jolt through your body, but you found yourself kissing him back with equal fervor.

He pressed you against the wall, the sudden intensity of the moment causing your heart to race. Your fingers tangled in his long hair, a tangible connection forming between you.

In the charged atmosphere of the moment, Jeonghan's hands gripped your waist, his thumbs tracing teasing circles on the towel cloth of your robe. With a mischievous grin, he released your lower lip with a soft pop, his gaze lingering on your face.

As he pressed his body against yours, the knot of your robe seemed to have mysteriously loosened, creating a seductive cleavage that exposed the curves of your bust. The fabric hung on the brink of revealing more, almost exposing your nipple.

You whispered, your voice barely audible, "Jeonghan."

Jeonghan leaned back, his eyes widening as he saw your robe almost undone. A gulp escaped him, and he hurriedly moved to close the cloth around you. Your hands intercepted his, holding them in place. There was a shared understanding in that moment—a tacit agreement that things had shifted, and there was no turning back.

With a steady gaze, you opened the robe, exposing your body. Jeonghan's breath caught, his hands instinctively gripping the sides of the robe tightly. The room seemed to buzz with an electric tension, and the air felt charged with anticipation.

His hands found their way to your hips, fingers pinching the fabric of your robe. The sensation sent shivers down your spine as his touch left an indelible mark on the uncharted territory of your connection.

As the intimate moment continued, Jeonghan led you to sit on the couch. His hands caressing the skin under your belly button, opening you by your inner thighs, until he reaches your pussy. He licks his fingers, starting to circle your clit, you muffle a moan, closing your eyes when you feel two of his fingers entering you. 

"Jeonghannie…" 

A soft moan escaped your lips, and in the hushed aftermath, you whispered, "Jeonghannie."

He hummed in response, the sound a tender acknowledgment of the nickname that had slipped past your lips. There was an unspoken intimacy in the way he absorbed the words, a resonance that spoke of shared history and a connection that had weathered the complexities of time.

"I missed that," Jeonghan admitted, his mouth sucking your clit, and you jolted, moving your hips, almost riding his fingers. 

 His request hung in the air, and you felt a flutter of anticipation as Jeonghan, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, asked, "Can you do that again?"

A coy smile played on your lips as you willingly obliged. "Jeonghannie," you moaned, the sound escaping your lips with an undeniable fervor.

His fingers curled, and your body tenses while you throw your head back, a satisfied smile forming on his face. The room was filled with a charged energy, and the intimacy between you deepened with each shared moment. "Again," he requested, the playful challenge evident in his eyes.

Your voice, laced with desire, echoed the familiar nickname once more, "Ah! Jeonghannie."

A low chuckle escaped him as he reveled in the sound, flicking your bud with his tongue. Your pussy was tight around his fingers, and he knows you are almost there. So he stops. As you whimpered, a question escaped your lips, "You won't be stubborn here too, right?" The anticipation in your voice held a hint of vulnerability.

Jeonghan, his jaw clenched and a firm grip in your hair, made you look into his intense gaze. There was a magnetic intensity in his eyes that seemed to hold the weight of unspoken desires.

He teased, his voice low and husky, "What if I want you to beg, hmm?"

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, the raw desire and dominance in his tone leaving you breathless. A breathy uncertainty laced your voice as you echoed, "B-beg?"

Jeonghan's grip on your hair tightened slightly, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "That's right. Beg for it," he murmured, his tone a blend of command and temptation.

The air between you crackled with a newfound intensity, and as you hesitated, his fingers entwined in your hair, he repeated, "Beg, Y/N."

Your heartbeat quickened, and the room seemed to close in around you. The vulnerability of the moment hung in the air, and in a hushed voice, you uttered the words he sought, "Please, Jeonghan." Your pussy clenching around nothing.

"Please what, Y/N?" he inquired, his eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

"Please let me cum on your mouth Jeonghannie..." You cried out, and fuck, you felt like a pathetic slut. 

He smiles, sucking your cunt, licking everywhere, your moans escaping your lips, an uncontrollable melody of pleasure. Sensing an opportunity to play, Jeonghan added his own voice to the symphony, a low and enticing moan that mirrored the rhythm of your own.

As you continued to moan, he intensified his efforts, each sound a deliberate echo of your pleasure. His moans grew louder, the teasing quality evident in every sultry note.

Your legs lock him, and he makes you cum messily on his tongue. Your feel dizzy, how the fuck you are trembling on your couch, with robe opened, and Jeonghan giving you a mind-blowing oral? 

Jeonghan, with a deliberate and firm movement, turned you around, positioning you with your arms gripping the backrest of the couch. Your body arched, your ass lifted in the air, the vulnerability and anticipation palpable in the intimate moment.

Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation, and you avoided turning to look at him. The heat emanating from Jeonghan behind you was palpable, and you rested your face on the sofa, trying to conceal the flush that colored your features.

Suddenly, his hands moved swiftly, gripping your hair with a rough intensity. He pulled you closer, and your back pressed against his chest. Jeonghan pressed his lips against yours. However, your mouth fell open, and you couldn't reciprocate the kiss as you felt him pushing his thick cock inside.

The pace quickened, Jeonghan's hips moving surprisingly fast, each thrust making your body bounce with every stroke. The sounds that escaped your lips were a mix of pleasure and restraint. Unsure if the walls could contain the intensity, you bit your lips almost to the point of tasting blood, attempting to stifle the moans that threatened to escape.

Jeonghan, disapproving of your attempt to silence yourself, held the back of your neck. He pressed your face against the pillowed backrest of the couch, a commanding tone accompanying his touch. "Don't hold back your moans," he ordered, his voice a low, authoritative whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

The sounds of skin slapping echoed in the background, but Jeonghan's insistence on hearing your unrestrained pleasure added a new layer of pleasure sent directly to your cunt. 

Stuttering, you managed to express your concern, "J-Jeonghan, people can listen," the words slipping between the gasps and moans.

He, however, seemed indifferent. "I don't give a fuck," he asserted, the determination in his voice unwavering.

You insisted, "Anyone can pass in the hall and hear us."

In response, he scoffed, dismissing the concern. Without a word, he pushed two fingers into your mouth, silencing you momentarily as you involuntarily drooled around them.

Jeonghan's blunt question hung in the air, "Good for you now, slut?" Your response came in the form of a satisfied mumble, an unspoken acknowledgment of the shared pleasure.

He, however, expressed a sentiment of unfairness, his voice carrying a mix of teasing and genuine desire. "That's unfair, Y/N. I've waited so long to hear you like this, and now you're impeding me from enjoying it?"

He pushes you to lay your back on the couch, pushing his dick inside of you again. His hands are now choking you slightly. Your response was a breathless laugh, a mixture of amusement and pleasure. "I can't help it if you're too impatient, Jeonghan."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through your shared space. "Impatient? After all this time? I've been waiting for this, and now you're telling me I have to be patient?" A teasing glint sparkled in his eyes as he continued, "You're a tease, Y/N. Making me wait, and now you're holding back."

You playfully rolled your eyes, even though his words resonated with a certain truth. "Maybe I enjoy making you wait. Builds anticipation, doesn't it?"

Jeonghan grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Well, I hope you're ready to make up for lost time." 

The rhythm intensified, and the force of Jeonghan's hips against you became more pronounced. The friction started to border on discomfort, and you shut your eyes tightly, desperate to channel all the overwhelming pleasure into a refuge against screaming aloud. Your hands found their way to his back, nails digging into his skin and trailing all the way down.

Your moans and gasps mingled in the air, both of you caught in the throes of pleasure. The sheer intensity of the moment made coherent conversation impossible, reducing any attempts to words that stuttered out in fragmented pleasure.

His mouth fell open, and he called your name with a voice that echoed the shared ecstasy. "Y/N," he stammered, the syllables breaking with the weight of desire, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that engulfed both of you.

The intensity of the moment pushed you to repeat the action, your nails running harder and more unconsciously down his back. A gasp escaped him, filling the room as his climax overtook him, making his body shiver with the force of pleasure.

After the peak of pleasure subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath. "This is a dirty game you played on me," he remarked, a hint of sulking in his voice. The unexpected intensity of the encounter, spurred by the simple action of your nails on his back, had left him vulnerable and surprised.

A playful smirk played on your lips as you teased him, "Oh, you're really into scratching your skin, aren't you?"

Jeonghan's sulky expression transformed into a sheepish grin. "Well, maybe a little. You seem to have a talent for it."

As the playful banter continued, Jeonghan's hand ventured down your body, his touch purposeful circling your clit. The exploration was gentle yet intent, working to build the anticipation and pleasure that would lead you to orgasm. 

A connection of affection and determination passed between you as you held his forearm, your eyes locked onto his. The look in his eyes conveyed a desire for you to cum,, the unspoken connection between you and Jeonghan deepening with each breath.

His hands worked faster, and your breath quickened in response. You avoided looking at him, lost in the overwhelming sensations. A hiss escaped him as you clenched around him, your back arching from the couch, the sensation of your nipples brushing against his skin adding an extra layer of intensity. In the throes of passion, you called him "Jeonghannie," the nickname slipping past your lips in a breathless plea.

"I'm going to—" you began, the words catching in your throat as pleasure surged through you.

Jeonghan, with a husky urgency, filled the silence, "Cum for me, my beautiful whore…" You reaching a crescendo as he urged you to surrender to the pleasure. "Cream on my cock, my beautiful Y/N. Let go for me."

You held onto his forearm tighter, gasping for air and calling out his name every time more louder. His response was a husky affirmation, "Yes, baby, just like that. Mhmm, that's my little slut."

The orgasm finally hit you, a powerful wave of pleasure surging through your body as you creamed hard around him. The room filled with the unmistakable sounds of your release, a symphony of ecstasy echoing in the air. Jeonghan, caressing your hair, tried to soothe you from the intensity of the climax.

"Fuck, I'll have to take another bath," you said, and Jeonghan chuckled, his voice laced with a satisfied tone, "Well, at least it will be with me."

He held you gently, leading the way to clean up. The shared bath became a tender moment, the water soothing and cleansing as you both relaxed.

Afterward, you lay on your bed, and Jeonghan sat on the edge. You called him, and he turned his head, carefully facing you. "What's up?"

You took a moment before admitting, "I saw the scratches on your back in the bath, but I was embarrassed to tell you."

He got up and turned his back to the mirror on your wardrobe, trying to take a peek at what you did. A smile spread across his face as he examined the red lines on the milky skin of his back. "Looks like you had fun back there," he teased, turning to face you. 

Jeonghan, playfully teasing, grinned and said, "How am I going to explain this to my friends in the locker room?"

You joined in the playful banter, suggesting, "Maybe avoid changing around them this week."

He chuckled and offered a humorous solution, "I can always say I got into a fight with a cat."

Both of you burst into laughter, the shared joke creating a light and carefree atmosphere.

#seventeen headcanons #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt imagines #svt smut #jeonghan smut #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x you #jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan fanfic #yoon jeonghan x you #svt reactions #svt #svt x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #seventeen au

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Titty-Shirt! (18+)

pairing: pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader

genre: theme park au??? lmao, coworkers to lovers, kinda enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, lil crack, lil angst

description: you start your new job and your mentor, jeonghan, is the biggest piece of shit you've ever met. you swear you hate him. you swear. he's just also the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

warnings: whew this requires a lot of warning, first of all a lot of DUBCON BEHAVIOR FROM JEONGHAN INITIALLY (we know she enjoys it to some extent, but he doesnt know), hes a sleazy perverted fuck, tiddie playing, tiddie sucking, tiddie fucking, fingering (f. receiving), dry humping, mirror sex, praise (f. receiving), dirty talk, FINGER SUCKING HNG, a lil degradation (f. receiving), meanie condescending jeonghan turning all soft for ur tiddies :(, V TIDDIE-CENTRIC IF U COULDNT TELL, belinda loves jeonghan, WEED LOTTA WEED, explicit depictions of smoking weed, high sex, this fic sounds rough but it actually has some really soft cute moments, im pretty sure thats it lmk if i forgot smth

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "shove ur cock down my throat treat me like the whore i am", "FUCKING STEP ON ME", "omg hes so disgusting..... im so attracted to him"

wordcount: 13.2k

a/n: the way i raced 2 finish this before im actually moving out... ALSO thinking ab making this a series? like one for each member, the theme being "unusual jobs". like not stuff youd immediately think of like coffee shop or lawyer or ceo or whatever. like. strange jobs. would u guys b on board?

“We’re so excited to have you working with us.” 

She had a mole on her nose that was hard to ignore. It was big and exceptionally round - your thoughts flitted back to your dearest Discovery Channel, and how amazing it was that nature could create such perfect spheres. The thought of your couch and your blanket and your most cherished nature docs brought upon a wave of uncertainty. You could just be lying at home, you thought. 

“Happy to be here,” you smiled tightly. She was your new manager and she was short and stout and had gray hair and a lovely smile and a round mole on her nose. You tried not to make it obvious you were staring at it. 

You were standing in your city’s local theme park under a long path with flower archways. People, kids and parents and ninth graders, swarmed around like bees, standing at booths and in lines to old, janky, rusted roller coasters. It was summer and you were wearing the branded shirt they’d given you, slightly too small, and the matching cap. Insects buzzed past your stray hairs and you looked up at the bright blue sky. 

You needed a job, you had known, and your mom had certainly known it too, so you could only lounge around after graduating for a short while, before you opted to apply. This had been your last choice. You’d tried to become some sort of lobby-worker, tried makeup stores and even regular stores. You used to make fun of the people who worked here. But now that person was you, and standing under the archways in the summer sun slathered in sunscreen, you figured you would make the best of it until the busy season was over. 

“So,” your manager, Belinda, began after a brief pause of polite nods, “new employees such as yourself are required to be trained and surveyed by an existing worker for a two-week period, but after that you get to run the rides all by yourself.” 

She said it like it was something to look forward to. You tried to believe that it was.

“Of course,” you said, and once again the space between you was filled with polite and exaggerated nodding. “Need to learn first before you get to be the master.”

“Exactly!” she said. Her lipstick was barbie-pink and a little overlined on the right side. She smelled faintly of gasoline. “So we’re handing you off to one of our star-employees!”

You hummed and noticed her taking a step backwards, indicating you to follow. She began walking, trudging over the cobbled paths and shuffling awkwardly in between walls of people. You followed behind. “He’s been working here for the past two years, so he knows the place in and out.”

As you walked, passing twisting, gnarly tracks with screams emanating from them and stands with oversized, China-made plushies hanging from them, you tried to imagine what a star-employee at Caratland Theme Park looked like. 

It was probably someone that loved roller coasters, maybe someone like yourself, who strived for approval and perfection, maybe someone that found a certain joy in being a good service experience for guests. Someone who was good with kids? 

“So you’ll be training with him for a bit before we leave you alone with the coasters, of course, but it should be no trouble, he’s a fun guy!” 

You passed by a haunted house, where a group of kids psyched each other up in the queue. Dodging a tree, you finally came up on a certain blue ride where Belinda stopped and put her hands on her hips, power posing in front of the creaky, old machinery. 

The Pirate Swing. That’s what it was called, and it was a big ship attached to a huge, metal pole on each side, and it was currently swooshing up and down with a large, grating sound. You cringed at it. Belinda noticed and frowned, fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Maybe we should oil that one.” 

Kids and parents were lined up at the stairway leading up to it in a parade of artificial polyester colors, and on the edge of the platform where the ship was shoveling through the air, a little booth was sat. Peeking through the frankly grimy windows, you could see him. He was slumped back in a wooden chair, wearing the same shirt as you and Belinda, and wearing big, blocky, black sunglasses. 

“Jeonghan!” she called, and you saw the figure jolt. He looked briefly dazed, before he snapped his head up to peer through the glass, smiling and waving. The kids in line turned to glare at you. He scrambled up from his seat clumsily and with sporadic movement, and you both watched how he hunched over the door, shaking it in its frame before it finally let open. He took one long step out the door and was finally outside, looking down at you from the platform and leaning on the railing. 

“Belinda! Nice to see you,” he breathed, smiling in a way that seemed to indicate he did not find the prior sequence of events embarrassing. In fact, he seemed to think he had the upper hand - the confidence rolled off of him in waves. You grimaced. 

You could see him much better now that he was outside, not broken up by the greasy glass, and whatever you had envisioned the star-employee to look like, this was not it. He was young, maybe just a little older than you, and he was thin, with long black hair that just kissed his shoulders. About half of his face was hidden away behind the frankly humongous sunglasses on his face, but he had pale pink lips and a pronounced cupid's bow, and even though you were a little skeptical of him, the cockiness in his smile was well-received. 

“This is Y/n!” Belinda said (yelling to overpower the severely loud child glee), gesturing to you, and you almost felt self-conscious when he looked over at you and smiled. “She’s a new employee and you’ll be her mentor during her training period.” 

“Sure thing!” he said simply. Again with the polite nods, you thought, before you felt Belinda’s hand on your shoulder. You glanced over and she squeezed. 

“Good luck, Y/n! You’re in great hands!” Now that you weren’t so sure about. Had the two of you not seen the same thing? 

You mumbled a thanks and she padded away, once more dodging and weaving through huge chains of people, and you squinted after her, before you turned back to Jeonghan. He was already looking at you, a lazy smile on his lips. 

“Welcome to The Pirate Swing, matey! Get up here and let me show you the ropes,” he padded back to the booth, now visibly more relaxed, as his back returned in a hunch. “I should probably stop the ride,” he mumbled to himself, pressing a button on a long controlpanel with a grid of eight buttons. 

You climbed up the stairs unsurely, hand smoothing over the railing as you went. At the top you squeezed in beside Jeonghan. It was a fairly small space, just big enough for the two of you to stand next to each other. Jeonghan smiled a straight smile at you, before brushing past you to let out the dizzy guests. 

“Was it a good ride?!” You heard him ask distantly, while you studied the interior of the booth. 

It was reeking with a sweet herbal stench, and for a moment you might’ve chalked it up to sweat and cologne, but when your gaze danced over the grid, you became aware of a small, open ziploc of weed on the countertop, crumbs of it dotted by the opening. An energy drink, most certainly warm from the sun flowing in, was perched next to it, and you saw more cans by the foot of the wooden chair (it seemed like a chair that had been dragged in from somewhere else - it was almost reminiscent of the one from your grandma’s house).  

You grimaced, looking over to where Jeonghan was waving kids off and shuffling over to let in people from the queue, a big sign for checking heights in his hand. The sunglasses, of course, you thought and frowned at the room. Luckily it seemed pretty straight forward, so maybe you could escape this Jeonghan character earlier than two weeks. 

“Right,” Jeonghan clapped his hands together, pushing past you again. “This is how you turn it on,” he said and pressed one long, skinny finger to a black button that read ‘dispatch’. 

Sure enough, the huge metal set to work again, screeching as it lifted a boat-full of nuclear families through the air. 

“You turn it off with this other one. Usually rides just stop by themselves when they reach the end, but since we got a little shitty one today it’s manual.” 

“Okay,” you said, nodding along and watching when his hand danced and pointed to the set of buttons.

“That’s pretty much it!” he said, collapsing in his chair again, sunglasses sliding halfway down his nose and revealing his bloodshot eyes. 

“What about the other buttons?” you ask pointedly, arms crossed.

“Don’t worry about them, sweet cheeks,” he waved you off. “They don’t do much.”

The empty cans by his chair clattered when he reached down a hand for one, toppling over and hitting the metal flooring. You scrunched your nose in disgust. 

“I like your shirt,” he mumbled, nimble fingers picking up a particular empty can. It was bent on one side, little holes pricked in it - it was a makeshift bong. You scoffed at him. This was the star-employee?

“We have the same shirt,” you deadpanned. 

“Yeah, but I like yours better,” he grinned lazily, can now in hand, when he leaned forward to fetch the ziploc of weed. “Nice and tight.” 

“You’re gross,” you spat, brows furrowed. “This is a kid’s establishment, you know that, right?” 

“Ninth graders fuck here all the time,” he shrugged. You gasped, not only because it was an extremely gross fact, but also because that was not what you were suggesting. “I’m referring to the fucking weed in your hand, jackass!” 

“Woah, calm down!” He shushed you, and you might’ve genuinely scared him, because he looked around each window of the booth, light cascading down his tan skin. He was wearing a pair of shorts, and you saw his knee bounce. When he’d secured the area, he turned to you with a hiss: “That’s a secret, woman! You can’t just throw words like that around.” 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t smoke here!” You snapped, but Jeonghan was doing exactly the opposite. Ducking down so it wasn’t totally visible from the windows, he’d placed a little nugget of weed on the grate, and was now setting it alight with Transformers-print lighter.

“This is your first day, right? Trust, you’re gonna end up being high on the job too,” he ended his sentence by placing his lips around the mouth of the can, sucking in smoke.

“That’s such a safety hazard,” you murmured, looking down at him from where you stood. He pulled away, smoke still in his mouth and you saw a twinkle in his eyes from above his falling sunglasses. Then he lunged forward and blew it into your face, a concentrated stream of weed smoke bouncing off your shiny cheeks. “Hey!”

You sputtered and spat, shoulders tense and straining against the fabric of your shirt. Jeonghan settled back down in his chair, legs spread.

“The kids love me! With or without weed!” he said, voice a little groggy from the smoke. You coughed, discontent. 

“Maybe they love you because you get them contact-high,” you mumbled under your breath. Jeonghan grinned at that. 

Suddenly he leaned back in his chair to study you, one hand on the can, the other taking off his sunglasses. He stared up at you with fire-red eyes and soft, long hair and a bemused grin on his lips. Seeing his full face, you gulped under his intense gaze. He was really pretty. Annoying. More annoying than pretty. But still. 

Distantly, kids screamed and a constant buzz of countless conversations overlapped in each inch of the park. Jeonghan reached out a finger and poked your jean-clad hip once. 

“You’re funny,” was all he said, something resembling curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah. Funny girl with the tight shirt.” 

You were going to retaliate (they truly had run out of your size and had opted for this as a temporary option, it wasn’t your fault!), but Jeonghan coughed suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as he sat back up in his seat. 

“Oh shit, should probably stop the ride now.”  _____________________________

You thought about quitting. 

You could honestly say that Jeonghan made you think about quitting, and maybe you would even have brought the plan into action, had it not been for the fact that you had been rejected from just about every other job that you’d applied to. It seemed you were stuck. 

You showed up the next day in your shirt and it felt even tighter than the day prior, and the cap tightened around your scalp like you were a toy in a claw machine. 

Fortunately for you, the park seemed much less crowded today. It was a Wednesday, parents were still working and apparently no one sought out the thrill of scary, old, decaying rides on such afternoons. You admired how much lovelier it was when it was still, as you walked up to The Pirate Swing. 

“Hey, titty-shirt!” 

The loveliness was ruined. 

Jeongan was standing on the railing with someone else you didn’t recognize, long, black hair swaying out from the rim of his cap. He waved enthusiastically, watching your form slump at his words. 

“Hey, Jeonghan,” you muttered, approaching the steps. The boy beside him looked mildly uncomfortable at the interaction. 

“It’s a good thing you’re here, N/n - can I call you N/n?” he didn’t let you answer, simply continued talking like a telemarketer. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here. Me and my buddy, Junhui, from the Beetle Bug ride were just discussing something that I think is extremely valuable to learn about this place!” 

“Are you gonna teach me about the rest of the buttons?” you drawled, eyes half closed in feigned boredom (as much as you disliked him, it certainly wasn’t boring). 

“No!” Jeonghan snapped his fingers at you. You noticed he had this way of smiling, that irked you. It was void of sincerity and was instead wolfish and teasing, something genuinely animalistic and mean-spirited. It was distasteful.

“On days like these-” he hovers and outstretched hand to gesture to the mostly bare land of the theme park, “- you can steal food from the restaurants.” 

After just one eight hour shift with Jeonghan, you find yourself not even remotely surprised at this. You cross your arms over your chest (Jeonghan’s eyes briefly flick down to them, and you think you might actually hate him): “I have a packed lunch.” 

“Packed lunches are for geeks and nerds,” he said, unbothered. “You can come along if you want to get some delicious, warm pizza, or you can stay here like a loser and explain to every kid that comes by, that you’re not allowed to give them a ride on the coaster and watch them cry until you get fired. Your choice, babe.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you snarled. Jeonghan shrugged with puckered lips and the Beatle Bug guy - Junhui - scrunched his face in disgust at the two of you. 

“Not gonna lie, I’m gonna go find Seungkwan,” he said, not even attempting to hide his dismay for your dynamic. He brushed past you on the stairs, hands buried in his pockets. “If you guys fuck, do it in the bathroom Chan uses!” he yelled, trudging past the pillars that held up the haunted house. 

“Sure thing, Jun!” Jeonghan smiled, and you could punch him. Again that animalistic, joyful, laughing-at-you-not-laughing-with-you smile.

“What if I snitch on you?” you asked, hoping it would knock some sort of sense into him, but he only shrugged.

“Belinda loves me. Whenever she works on Valentine’s day, she cries in her office and I let her rant about her shitty boyfriends,” the visual was somehow not hard to imagine. Belinda in her office chair (you’d seen it once, and all you could say was the interior looked like something from a log cabin) and Jeonghan, 19, feeding into everything she said. “You can say what you want, but she’ll just fire you for making up rumors.” 

Your brows furrowed. “That’s so concerning.” 

“Nothing about this place works right,” he admitted and it was maybe the only time you’d sensed an ounce of truth in his words. “So, are you coming?” 

You hesitated. You really were working up a real distaste for Jeonghan, but talking to spoiled, crying kids seemed worse than anything else at the moment. You decided you could live through Jeonghan’s lewd comments and maybe make friends with some other park workers. 

“Okay.” 

“I knew you loved me,” he teased, and then grabbed your wrist from the top of the steps, bouncing down and pulling you along with him. “Hey!” you yelped, but Jeonghan was, as always, unbothered. 

He pulled you by a narrow walkway into the toilets, passing by a single, confused family, as you stumbled behind him. There was a fountain with a hen figurine on top, which he steered around, your arm jerking limply, as he went down a flower-walkway. 

“You do this often?” you remarked, out of breath from jogging to match his strides. 

“Oh yeah. Mingyu works there and he’s like 16, he lets me do anything,” Jeonghan giggled evilly, glancing over his shoulder once, and you gulped, and hated the way his eyes were so big and pretty, and the way his hair blowed softly along carvings of his cheeks. 

“It’s great that you have so many people here to enable your bad habits,” you said. Whatever sarcasm you portrayed in your tone, Jeonghan ignored it, still smiling when he said: “Right?” 

When you stopped you were standing on the backside of a blocky building - one of the many offers of food you provided, prices marked up to drain the suburbs of their cash. You felt something underfoot, and looked down on the gravelly, rustic pavement, only to see circa 20 cigarettes jammed in between the rocks. You scrunched your nose. 

“What? You don’t like cigs?” you looked up at Jeonghan’s voice, to see him grinning cheekily at you. His eyes sparkled and for maybe just a second it was kind of attractive. 

“I don’t..” you broke off eye contact. “I don’t mind, it’s just.. Is everyone here like you?” 

“Sweetheart,” he tutted, and you nearly flinched at the feeling of his long fingers tapping your cheek, cool on the warming skin. You looked back up at him and he had tilted his head to the side. Why was he being attractive? Why were you finding him attractive? “There’s no one like me.” 

Before you could respond, Jeonghan pushed open the backdoor, the heat of the kitchen simmering out in one brief wind, before it slammed shut behind him, and you were left, alone and dumbfounded on the stones in a mountain of cigs. 

Then you scoffed.

You stood for a moment, letting the fresh air cool the inevitable warmth on your cheeks, huffing (because you were annoyed, you told yourself, not because he had just done something terribly, horribly attractive!) and puffing with your arms crossed over your too-tight-shirt. 

Then you pushed open the door and stepped inside the tiled kitchen. 

The room was filled with steam and it smelled like canned marinara sauce and fake cheese and most of all it was unbearably hot - so hot and humid, you felt the particles of water sitting on the fabric of your shirt. There was a decidedly oversize pot simmering with sauce on a stovetop, and on a hotplate three untouched pizzas sat; one with potato-topping, one pepperoni and one margarita. 

A very tall boy was running frantically around the kitchen, three different kitchen utensils in his clenched fist like claws. Sweat was dripping down the side of his frowning face and red speckled his shiny cheeks. Jeonghan draped himself against the counter lazily.

“It’s just me today,” the boy, Mingyu, cried, “Thomas sent home the other two because there’s no one in the park, but I can’t do this alone!” 

“Seems real stressful, Gyu,” Jeonghan mumbled, leaning on his hand. 

“Yeah, so if you aren’t too busy, maybe you could stir the marinar-” 

“That’s really great, man. You’re doing God’s work. But hey, we’re just gonna-” While Mingyu’s back was turned, the tall boy hunched over the sauce, Jeonghan limply pushed the pepperoni pizza to the edge of the hotplate with a pair of tongs. He winked at you, scooping the pizza into his open palm. “We’re just gonna head out now.” 

“Jeonghan, please help me out and don’t-” 

Mingyu turned around and his tortured expression dropped into one of shock, his tense limbs falling limp at his sides. Jeonghan stood, hand in the cookie jar and pizza in his palm, frozen in front of him with a sort of cartoonish ‘oopsie’-face. Steam clouded the room while you watched from the doorway.

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered in warning: “Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this. Put. The pizza. Down.” 

There was a moment of indifferent silence. Jeonghan contemplated.

Then he nodded, lips pursed and eyes cast down to the pizza.

“You know… I would.. But. Y/N, OPEN THE DOOR OR KNOCK HIM OUT!”

“WHAT?”

“OPEN THE DOOR.” 

You did. Apparently Mingyu hadn’t seen you, because he jumped at your voice behind him, body twisting to see you just in time for you to open the door and Jeonghan came scrambling out of it like a rat. You cannot believe you just aided this man’s crimes, you think, Mingyu’s expression of horror forever imprinted in your retina, before you followed suit. 

However bad Mingyu’s puppy expression made you feel, the rush of adrenaline as you bolted down the pavement under row after row of flowers and sunbeams brought forth something sinister and mean that had you giggling at your evil-doing. Jeonghan was laughing as well, and his genuine laugh was bright and bubbly and very unlike him. 

Mingyu sprung open the door behind you, yelling over your shoulders: “HOODLUMS! THIEVES! YOU’RE LUCKY I CAN’T LEAVE THIS SAUCE.” 

This made the both of you laugh even harder, disappearing behind another building, leading up to the chicken-fountain. You caught up to him, still holding the pizza in his open palms, now sweating and panting in between bright, heart-thrumming giggles. 

“I thought-” you panted, bending at your knees and warding away the image of the betrayed Mingyu. “I thought you said he let you do whatever he wanted.” 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan heaved, cheeks rosy and shiny, as he gently padded over to a bench with the pizza out like the plate in the hand of Oliver Twist. “That’s my bad. I forget he was 16 two years ago and has since then lost all respect for me.” 

This made you laugh. This had your eyes squinting closed and a deep, ringing laugh bouncing up your ribcage and your throat and exploding into the summertime. Eyes closed, you missed the way Jeonghan’s face lit up at that.

“That made you laugh? Self-deprecation?” he asked incredulously, but somehow amazed. 

“Oh,” you cried, opening your eyes and willing your laughter to calm. “I think it’s just the first time you haven’t been baselessly confident and cocky.” 

“Baseless?” Jeonghan echoed, face screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face also screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“What? Am I supposed to collect, like, fuckin’ data?” 

“Yeah, evidence.” 

“EVIDENCE?” 

You and Jeonghan went back to The Pirate Swing, splitting the pizza in the booth and every 45 minutes or so, letting guests on when they came by. He was still annoying and in all fairness he’d dragged you into his crimes against humanity. But. He was also a little funny and sweet. 

And the pizza did taste better than your packed lunch. _____________________________

Two days of normal work followed. 

There were too many people to really fuck around, so you and Jeonghan stayed in the booth, and you even managed to pressure him into telling you about the rest of the buttons, as well as the mechanics of the bigger machines. 

Everytime Jeonghan saw you he greeted you with “Hey titty-shirt!”, equally enthusiastic each time. Everytime the clock hands read 8 PM he pulled out his weed and began smoking. Everytime he began smoking he snaked a hand on the back of your leg where you stood (still no chair!) beside him, rubbing the flesh under his palm. You shooed him away half-heartedly, then felt guilty for not meaning it. Jeonghan was a sleazy piece of shit, but his hand was warm and felt nice on your thigh. You liked to tell yourself you were just lonely or something. 

“TITTY-SHIRT!” 

That Saturday you came walking into work, still wearing your shirt and your cap, and was immediately alerted to the fact that something was off; Jeonghan was ecstatic. 

He always had this front of joy and constant bemusement, but you’d learned to read how he yearned for his shift to end - you saw it sometimes when he gazed out of the windows of the booth, thinking you were surveying the kids. That day, he was happy. Genuinely. 

“TITTY-SHIRT!” he called again, causing a family of blonde children to turn their heads in dismay. He paid them no mind, rushing down the stairs with loud, trampling steps, to meet you at the foot of the platform, before you could even settle down in the booth. He grabbed your forearms in his hands and grinned at you childishly. You couldn’t help the small, bemused smile that parted your lips.

“Great fuckin’ news,” he said, “Belinda is fucking gone. M.I.A.”

“Okay?” you grimaced, unsure of what he was getting at. 

“Okay?! Do you know what this means?” 

“No, not particularly,” you mumbled. 

“This whole fuckin’ area,” he let go of your arms to motion vigorously to your part of the park. "Unsupervised. Unaccounted for.” 

“Okay?” 

“Okay?! This means we’re gonna go shoot the shit at the arcade, come on!” He threw a hand over his shoulder to gesture to the arcade area. You frowned and crossed your arms challengingly. 

“Shouldn’t we go take care of our coaster?” 

“Are you kidding me? If no one is working it, people just assume it’s shut down for maintenance. Come on, this only happens, like, twice a year!” He whined, stomping his worn-down Nike sneakers into the pavement and pouting at you. You hated to admit it made your facade melt like an overpriced ice-cream in the hand of a child. 

“Alright, but-” 

“Yes!” 

Without further nonsense, Jeonghan grabbed your hand in his, and began to once more drag you through the park. As you ran behind him, you looked at your interlocked hands and thought, briefly, that it wasn’t too bad to look at. And it felt kind of good. 

“What happened to Belinda?” 

“God knows, I think it was something with her kids.” 

“She has kids?!” 

You and Jeonghan messed around at the arcade - Jeonghan miraculously had been granted the keys to the arcade by Belinda (something about her trusting him?), and unlocked the machines and you played games with already-used coins. 

First was Whack-A-Mole, then the boxing game, then those motorcycle races, and then you played the basketball game.

“I’m gonna beat you!” you squealed, throwing a miniature basketball through the hoop with a small jump. You grinned in triumph when it landed right, punching the air like a dork and turning to him with victoriously glean. 

Jeonghan wasn’t even played, you realized. You’d been so caught up in actually landing the ball in the hoop that you’d managed to forgo the way Jeonghan leaned against his lane, eyes half lidded and shadowed under his cap. You turned to him, now much more aware that you’d been acting like a dork. 

“Uh, aren’t you gonna play?” you asked sheepishly, blushing. You wished you’d missed how Jeonghan’s lips quirked upwards at the sight. 

“No,” he sang, “I think I’m just gonna stay here and watch you play.” 

You narrowed your eyes, suspiciously, and that was all Jeonghan needed before he sighed and shrugged in defeat, like a criminal caught for his crimes.

“Sorry, I just like watching your tits bounce when you get all excited,” he deadpanned. Your mouth gaped open and crossed your arm over your chest.

“You’re so gross, Jeonghan!” you said, now thoroughly uninterested in playing anymore. Jeonghan only scoffed though, to which you snapped your head back to him with an outraged expression. He smiled at you in that cheeky son-of-a-bitch way. 

“Oh, don’t act like that,” he said cockily.

“Like what?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, letting a small pause linger in the space between you. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes twinkled with excitement every time he said something like this. As hot as he was, Jeonghan was a cocky, sleazy piece of shit and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

“Like you’re scandalized,” he said simply. You wanted to respond, wanted to defend your honor, but Jeonghan saw right through you, and he took one step forward to speak again: “Like you hate the way I talk to you. You act all innocent and nice and so uptight, but you know what?” 

He took daring steps forward, one after another, until you were half-sat on the basketball machine and he stood, looming over you, surprisingly menacing despite the get-up. The air seemed to suddenly thicken and warm, tasting foul in your mouth. Then he leaned in, eyes glimmering brilliantly with amusement and that evil smile on his lips, breath hitting yours. 

“I think you love being treated like a slut.” 

Fuck.

He was so close to you, body heat rolling into you. You knew he saw the mechanisms of your brain turning behind your eyes, saw the fear when you realized he had seen right through you, and he smiled, and he might as well have had fucking horns.

He tilted his head, and, fuck, if every angle of his face wasn’t perfect. It was unfair. It was so unfair. 

“I-I don’t-” your voice was a meek, half-hearted protest, cut off before you could even begin.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I think you do. You don’t just let any man massage your thigh, hm?” 

At those words, his hand dropped onto your thigh, finger digging into soft flesh. You mewled at the feeling, causing his grin to spread wider. 

“Oh, poor baby,” he pouted in fake-sympathy. “Am I making you wet?” 

“JEONGHAN!” 

Thank God for Kwon Soonyoung with the impeccable timing. 

Soonyoung was “the pool boy” - he did not work at the pools, but he was the victim of a dunking-machine that was set up in the summertime. Kids and adults alike paid to throw balls at a big, red button that would lower a trapdoor and dunk Soonyoung in ice-cold water. You’d seen it in action and it was pretty hilarious. 

At his voice, you and Jeonghan scrambled apart, his hand flying off your thigh and body twisting to back away from you, and you dropping off the machine and landing flat on your feet, blushing wildly and somewhat out of breath. 

Soonyoung, the poor boy, was sprinting through the park, stopping awkwardly where you and Jeonghan had been standing. He was out of breath and had a wild look in his eyes, like he was being chased by some supernatural monster. 

“Belinda is back! Get back to your coasters!” If he’d noticed your philandering he certainly didn’t mention it, breaking into a sprint again the second the words had left his lips. 

“Shit, thank you, Soonyoung!” Jeonghan yelled, receiving only a limp thumbs-up from the trackstar in response. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and the two of you ran back to The Pirate Swing as fast as your legs could take you. 

Your heart fluttered at your interlocked hands again, and you stared at them, focused on them, as the world became a blurred mess around you. His warmth streamed into you.

You couldn’t even look at him the rest of the shift. Something about his confrontation stirred a mimicking phenomenon in you. Did you want to fuck Jeonghan? You did, you realized, and thus you were unable to raise your gaze from the floor, pressing yourself against the wall to be far enough away from him, that he couldn’t touch your thigh again. He didn’t. He just let your cheeks blaze and pressed buttons and talked to kids, and he even waved at Belinda when she walked by, and she smiled wide and waved back. 

You went home at 9 PM, shirt too tight around your chest, and chest too tight around your heart. You simply couldn’t believe it, because not only did you want to fuck Jeonghan;

You had a fucking crush on him. _____________________________

Having a crush on Yoon Jeonghan was maybe the worst revelation you’d had in your life.

You’d kept all the things you admired about him hidden under the veil of your shirt; he was sleazy and gross and he smoked weed at work and had a certain disregard for child safety. But, and there was always a but, you realized, he was also witty and easy to talk to, and it was cute when he was happy or he got excited about something, and he was so damn charismatic, and you realized you would do anything to see him with that childlike joy again. 

The worst part was that Jeonghan did not like you back. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine him liking anyone. He thought you were hot and wanted to fuck and that was the end of it. All the ways you cared about him were unreciprocated. He did not care to see you happy. He did not care for the twinkle in your eyes when you were excited. He liked your tits in your shirt and was working his fingers up, day by day, to touch you. Yoon Jeonghan did not like you back. 

Three days of work passed, three days of being muted and awkward around him. Jeonghan’s shine was not dulled by your lack though. The kids loved him, Belinda loved him, and he didn’t love anyone back - just let himself be showered in admiration. He was greedy like that. He took all the love and gave none out.

On this particular day, all you did was lay in your bed before work, willing time to stop so you wouldn’t have to go. Legs flopped on top of your bedsheets, work shirt on and cap on your bedside. You waited.

You waited with a metal ball in your stomach, rolling around and causing a ruckus. It rested heavy there, rolling to and fro and grazing your heart from time to time, and it hurt. 

Maybe the reason it felt this bad was because you did it to yourself. Of course, Jeonghan wouldn’t like you back. He was Jeonghan. And yet, you’d had your guard down and his effortless charms had worked their way into your brain. You wondered how many girls had been in the same exact position as you; being graced with Jeonghan’s presence, being smitten by it, and now lying in bed, realizing the admiration would never be bounced back to them. 

You went to work. 

In the damn shirt, you walked in through the staff-door and journeyed towards The Pirate Swing. 

There were so many people that day, you could hardly believe your eyes. The queues were mile-long stretches, and every pathway was spotted with body after body, walls of families, crowds swarming like insects. It was enough to induce a slight panic. 

“It’s good that you’re here, Titty-shirt,” Jeonghan said, when you walked into the booth beside him. He had a bit of a wild look in his eye and he was chewing on a banana. You stood by the door of the booth, looking out at the queue - a genuine queue? To The Pirate Swing? - as the boat swung catastrophically behind you. “We’re fucking busy.” 

You hummed, then turned your head to him. He had sat down, seemingly exhausted and pouting a little. 

“You brought a packed lunch?” you asked, nodding towards the banana in his hand and he looked up at you. His cheeky smile made you want to die. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I stole this from Seungkwan,” he said and you laughed, and you hated that he made you laugh. The walls of the booth muffled the loud, indistinct buzz and shielded you from the chaos. The flimsy, windowed walls had never felt as intimate. 

“It’s gonna be a shitty day,” you declared ceremoniously. He grunted something in agreement, voice strangled by the now finished banana. Forever himself, he discarded the peel on the corner of the control panel, among his ziploc of weed and empty cans. 

It was a shitty day.

The constant swarming of people, crying children, the non-stop screech of rusted roller coaster tracks; everything brewed together into a pounding headache, as you and Jeonghan hunched together in the booth. Beads of sweat collected on your skin, where the unforgiving sun streamed through the windows. 

Around 8 PM you’d had just about enough. Your head was pounding, you were hungry, and most terribly you were sad. You were sad, sitting next to Jeonghan on the dirty, hard floor of the booth, and you could cry every time he said something snarky and lewd to you. He would never like you and you were a fool for ever letting yourself get attached. 

The day was constant work, constant talking to kids and putting on an energetic front. Finally the crowd seemed to thin out. Slowly but surely, the suburban families returned home and only a few people remained, and the night time glowed soft and warm. 

“Dude,” Jeonghan said, neck craned to look at his phone. With most of the guests gone, he’d finally gotten a chance to waste away on his phone, putting his mouth to his makeshift bong and smoking pot. You kept the booth-door open to let the smoke out. “Wanna go see a crowd of teenagers dunk Soonyoung? Junhui just texted me.” 

You were so tired. Every inch of your body yearned to relax where you sat, cross legged on the metal floor. With dark, sunken eyes and no courtesy left, you simply shook your head. 

“You sure?” he asked, eyebrows raised. You were just tired enough to miss the small frown on his lips. 

“I’m tired, you just go.” 

Jeonghan shrugged then and stood up. He left the bong on the floor and stepped over you to exit. 

“I’ll be back ASAP!” he yelled out, and you didn’t even try to look at him, to call something witty back. You just sat. 

And as if it weren’t the last thing you needed today, just thirty minutes before closing, a woman and her son strolled up The Pirate Swing. You saw them, eyes glazing with worry as you flickered your head to Jeonghan’s empty chair.

“We want a ride!” cawed the woman, holding her son by the hand. You scrambled to your feet, stuttering as you dusted off your pants. 

“Uh, I-” hopeful, you looked around, hoping to see Jeonghan and his long, poodle-y hair somewhere near. The pathways were deserted. “I-I actually can’t-” 

Not waiting for an explanation, the woman clucked once more: “You’re still open, aren’t ya?” 

You nodded, tiredness painted thick and greasy on your face. “Yes, we are, um, open, but I-” 

“Well, then give us a ride?!” 

This woman was going to be the death of you. Why were they even here now right before closing? You closed your eyes, collecting yourself and mustering each ounce of patience you had left. 

“I’m not allowed to because I’m new-” 

“Well, where is the operator? Why are you here if you don’t know how it works!” 

“He’s, uh,” your face fell, “He’s using the bathroom right no-” 

You’re not even sure why you lied. 

“Alright,” she huffed, strained and impatient. “Well, you just ruined me and my son’s night!” 

She tugged her blonde kid by the hand and began to turn around, grumbling with a red face. 

“I’m so sorry, but- it’s a matter of safety-” 

“Next time just say you don’t know how to do your job!” she yelled over her shoulder, mean glare coming out over her shapely glasses. Then she was jiggling away with a pouting child. 

Your mouth fell open in shock. A part of you wanted to be angry - a part of you was angry - but you found yourself weighed down and sliding down the wall of the booth with a much heavier feeling; you were exhausted. 

This was the last straw for tonight, you decided, resolve melting like a dropped ice cream. Booth door half-creaked open and weed vapor in the air, you buried your head in your hands and began to cry. It was small. It was not loud and sorrowful, it was small and petty. Nothing grand about crying on the dirty floor at your workplace. Sniffles and single, wet tears and a quivering lip, all dying out in the soft glow of the fairy light decorating the park.

“Y/n?” 

“Shit,” you lifted your head from your hands, wiping hard on your reddened cheeks. Jeonghan was standing in the open door, looking down at you on the floor.

“Sorry, uh-” 

“Why are you crying?” 

You paused, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt and effectively covering your breasts. Your breath was shaky and snotty, eyelashes coated in tears. Red patches your skin around your puffy eyes, and your lips pressed into a thin line. 

Jeonghan did not look like himself when you looked up at him. It must have been a completely different person, you decided, because his features had  tightened and screwed into an expression you had never even seen a hint of before: concern. 

It looked so utterly foreign on his face - there was always a lightness to his expression, a joking, teasing look, but now he was frowning and his brows were furrowed and his eyes were big and red and round. It made  you feel small and frail. You didn’t like seeing him like that; unwell. But it seemed that feeling was mutual. 

“Um,” you began, voice hoarse and shuddering like a frail old fence-gate, that’s been slammed shut. “I’ve just had a shitty fucking day and- this woman came and wanted to ride and she was just so fucking mean when I told her I couldn’t..” 

Telling it all again made you feel so pathetic, it wracked another sob from you, hurdling past your lips. You caught it in your hand, pressing it to your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut up. 

God, you were pathetic. 

But your heavy, heavy eyelashes blinked open and you looked up to see Jeonghan’s expression softened into something else entirely;

Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. 

“No, it’s fine-”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, now at your level and up close, so you could see every tensed muscle and every strain on his beautiful face. 

“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he said solemnly and for the first time since you’d met him, Jeonghan was merely expressing his regret, not bartering for some sort of gain. His words were dripping with sincerity and it was so strange, you had to laugh.

“What?” he asked, a small grin growing on his face. That was more familiar. 

“I just- I’ve never seen you so serious, it’s okay, Jeonghan, I forgive you-” 

He broke into a laugh as well, rhythmic clucks dancing through the air from the booth, and it immediately cheered you up: he was beautiful and practically glowing, a small rim of light encapsulating him. 

“I’m very serious, I think,” he said. You rolled your puffy, old eyes. 

There was a significant pause. 

Your head lolled over and your gaze landed once more on the makeshift bong by the chair, now abandoned. It reminded you of how different you were. You tried too hard because you liked when people liked you, you were a hard worker, your shirt was too tight. Your shirt was too tight and that’s what had landed you in this situation. 

“Can I…” you trailed off, daring to look at him again. “Can I smoke some of your weed?” 

Jeonghan’s face was practically split in half the way he was smiling. There was something akin to triumph in his eyes, but it was almost fatally overpowered by sheer, bubbling, striking adoration. It made you blush. 

“Of course, babe, I thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, still smiling when he scrambled forward for the bong and stretched out his arm to finger at the control panel, finally feeling the soft plastic and snatching it down to the floor with you. 

“Just put your mouth to the can, baby, I’ll light it for you,” he giggled giddily, scrambling for the lighter in his pocket. 

“I know how it works,” you tried to sound stern, but you were smiling and your eyes were twinkling. 

Jeonghan messily pinched off a nugget of weed and placed it on the gridded holes in the can (which he had pricked with his work badge; “Hi, my name is Jeonghan!”), and you placed it to your mouth, while he held the lighter to it. 

“You’re so hardcore,” he said sarcastically, face close to yours as he flicked the lighter, sending a warm flame onto the can, so the nugget lit ablaze. 

“Shut up,” you said, and then you inhaled and the flame went out and turned into a glow, and warm, crisp smoke traveled down your throat, leaving it sore and burned. It felt great. 

You held it in for a moment, then exhaled, and Jeonghan watched eagerly as your chest rose and fell under the restricting fabric of your shirt. 

You and Jeonghan sat side by side for the last half hour, smoking together, eyes turning red and breaths turning sour and casting laughs into the night air. There was a warm buzz in your chest, a low drum, and you basked in the proximity to him, in how the heat of his body met yours in a fierce battle, at how he caught your eye when he joked, and how he smiled when you laughed. Your responsibilities melted away; your shirt felt looser. 

“We’re closing now,” you hummed after a while, somehow lighter and heavier at the same time. Your eyelids felt heavy and your cheeks were warm from giggling. Jeonghan placed his hand on your wrist, squeezing and tearing your eyes to his. 

“I have such a good idea right now,” he grinned lazily and you couldn't help but echo it. His eyes were red and half-lidded, and his voice was groggy from the smoke. He had run his hand through his hair one too many times and now it was puffier, poodlier than normal. He looked so handsome, you thought, studying the tan from many days in the sun. You figured he didn’t use sunscreen. 

“What is it?” you breathed.

“Come on, come with me!” 

Then the two of you were sneaking from building to building and giggling indiscreetly, two hunched silhouettes becoming one with the backs of buildings. Jeonghan insisted the two of you go to the toddler playground (Sunshine Dance Club, as it were called), because, in his words: “those dumb prick security guards never bother to actually check it”. He pulled you into the pastel green, red, blue, and yellow dreamscape, pulling you up a wooden tower, where you would be shielded by the railing. 

The two of you sat against the railing and waited while a security guard checked the place before closing. 

The mischief had made the two of you even more giggly, scratchy throats producing choppy snickering, as you leaned into each other on the wood, breathing in each other’s air. You liked being so close to him, you thought, and you were almost high enough to just spit it out. The distant stream of light overhead revealed his pores, but you liked those too. 

“Shut up, shut up,” Jeonghan whispered at one point. “I think he might be coming!”

“You’ve said that three times-” 

His hand clasped over your mouth and he fought not to laugh at the surprise in your eyes. Sure enough, this time he was right, as you heard booted footsteps in the distance, and the beam of a flashlight danced across the sloping and bouncing playground. 

You held your breath, not only because you feared, for the first time that night, getting caught, but also because Jeonghan had leaned so close to you, that you could see every stirred acrylic in his eye, every color of brown, swirly sundae. 

Both of you stopped laughing and stared at each other. 

His hand dropped from your lips. 

“I have cotton mouth,” he whispered, footsteps fading away. You couldn’t tell if it was the weed or what, but the air seemed thicker and you felt heavier, like imaginary hands were tugging you down. Jeonghan was no better - you couldn’t quite place the emotion on his glowing face. He almost seemed vulnerable.

“Me too,” you whispered, breathless. 

A pause.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, pink and plush.

“Can I kiss you?” 

You were almost bristling for a moment in pure surprise, before you recollected yourself and nodded eagerly.

“Yeah.” 

You thought his lips would smash into yours; you thought he would conquer you, because that would simply be the most Jeonghan-thing he could, to take what was his, to be cheeky and horny and sleazy.

To your utmost surprise, his hand was shaking when he lifted it, brushing so softly, so gently across the skin of your neck, resting on the back of it, cold from the icy, night breeze. His hand kissed the tips of your hair, and he gently slid it up, breath shaking, as he stared at your lips. Then he leaned in. 

His lips were soft like the bouncy castle on the edge of the playground, so impossibly gentle and flowing and warm. He breathed out shakily against your skin, eyes squeezed shut. Had you seen it, you would’ve almost believed that the kiss pained him, with the furrowed brows, but you didn’t, and it wasn’t painful at all, it was just that his heart was exploding and so was yours. Tender and slow, that was what it was, and you had never thought you’d use words like that to describe him.

A moment of entangled lips, slow making out and warm air covering your skin, his hand in your hair. The Sunshine Dance Club was filled with the sound of spit.

Then he pulled away, breath still shaking, but now, less vulnerable. His lips curled into a smile, spreading that childlike joy on his face. It made you smile as well. 

“That was-” he shook his head at himself, cringing. Then he restarted: “Can I show you something?” 

You chuckled, cheeks heavily flushed and eyes twinkling. “What is it?” 

The cheekiness returned to his eyes, as he scrambled to his feet: “A surprise.” 

And once again the two of you were giggling through the park, this time hand in hand, looking over your shoulders for the security guard that by this time had definitely gone home. The halted steps over the cobbled paths echoed in the dead, empty park. 

It would’ve been a strange feeling - seeing everything closed and dark and empty, every inch usually crammed with people strangely void - had you not been entirely consumed by Jeonghan’s presence. His hand in yours, his laugh, his starry eyes, his face softening when he looked at you.

Jeonghan led you into Belinda’s office (he had a key because he was her favorite, he said), allowing you to sit on the edge of her desk, while he sauntered off into an attached room. You sat there, overhead light dull and buzzing, and basked in the log cabin aesthetics. Your chest was warm.

Then, from beyond the other room, sounding much further away and thereby being much bigger than you had initially imagined the attached room to be, you heard the mechanical sound of several switches. They sounded heavy and important, having a sort of resonance that continued into your room, where Belinda’s desk chair was spun halfway. 

“Jeonghan?” you called, a twinge of worry in your voice. “What did you do?” 

He came jogging back into the office, all wide grinned and puffy-eyed. 

“You’ll see.” 

Once again he grabbed onto your hand, pulling you off the desk and barging out of the doorway.

The night air enveloped you completely, stealing you away from the warmth of the office, kissing your warm skin, as you stood on the cobble. The feeling was so great, you almost missed what Jeonghan had done.

It was beautiful. 

The switches had turned on the lights everywhere. In every color imaginable, illuminating dramatically sloping tracks in the distance, fairy lights on the pathways, signs re-lit, and the whole park before your eyes seemed to have become a disco-ball, sending faint streaks into the star-spotted sky like aurora borealis. 

You, now red and green and yellow and blue, let out a disbelieving laugh, smiling wide. You squeezed his hand, unable to communicate further. There was something about it that left you entirely speechless. It was an inability to overcome and conquer the lights before you - your eyes feasted on them much too eagerly. 

“What do you think?” 

Jeonghan was looking at you. 

“It’s-” you sucked in a breath, trying to compose a sudden sincerity you felt. You looked over at him. “It’s so pretty, Jeonghan. It’s really beautiful.” 

“I knew you would like it,” he murmured happily, body turned to yours. You turned to him as well. 

There was a moment of silence. The two of you basked in the light and in the gentle glow and the cool night, and in each other. 

“Thank you for cheering me up,” you said and pursed your lips. He smiled in a gentle way. It looked nice on him. 

“It’s nothing,” he said, “we were having fun.” 

The conversation lulled again, and while you turned your head back to the light show, the flickering lights and the ombre, Jeonghan continued looking at you. 

You felt his eyes on you, and you turned to him, shyly: “You should look at the beautiful lights.”

He shook his head, lips twisting upwards: “No.. Not right now…” And that was all he said.

The words left a bit of a void in you, like a black hole sunk in your stomach and you turned to him curiously. Jeonghan sensed your confusion, because he licked his lips and gave you a knowing smile, and then explained. 

“I wanna kiss you again, love.”

And his voice was so angelic, such a grave contrast to the boy you’d come to know, but he’d been so strange tonight. Your first kiss had been so tender, now he was looking at you and his pupils were dilated and a smirk spread across his face, and you needed to know something; just one thing, before you threw yourself at him, and gave to him, something you would not be able to take back. 

“Do you just wanna fuck me?” your voice echoed off the walls of the empty park, resounding accusingly. He laughed.

“Of course, I wanna fuck you, baby,” he laughed a little, shaking his head in disbelief. You stayed staring at him, bristling. “You’re hot as shit.” 

“No, I mean,” you paused, because suddenly your heart was climbing into your throat and it seemed like everything you’d worried about was true, that you were just another girl that was hexed by his charms. “Do you just wanna fuck me?” 

His smirk dropped. There was a moment where all you could hear was wind and the electrical whirring of the many, many lights, draining energy from the earth by the second. 

“Do you honestly think I’d do this for just any girl I wanted to fuck?” 

“I-”

“I thought you were smarter than that, N/n,” his lips spread once more in a smile, but this one seemed more fitting on his face - condescending and confident. Whatever vulnerability had hung in the air was replaced by warmer, thicker danger. Was it the weed making you feel this way? On edge or excited?

“I just-” you stammered, feeling bashful suddenly. Did that mean he liked you? Yes, that meant he liked you. You had truly not even considered the possibility, not really thought it through the way you had the negative outcome, so now you were standing and you didn’t know how to respond. A stuttering, blubbering mess of red cheeks and avoidant eyes. “I just- I thought you just- because you talk so much about my boobs-” 

“Shhhh,” he shushed you. The cocky motherfucker actually shushed you, staring you down in a way that made you feel like prey and taking two steps forward, and closing the gap between you. He was so, so close to you, chest inches away from yours and leaning his face down to tilt his head at you. 

“You’re so cute, baby,” he cooed, eyes dancing around your face. 

You and him watched it, as one lean hand lifted itself to your chest, tightly wrapped in polyester-fabric. You sucked in a breath. His fingers lightly grazed it, trailing over the soft plushness of it. Then he cupped it, experimentally, like feeling the weight of it in his hand. You whimpered pathetically. 

“Hm,” he hummed, ripping his gaze from your tits very briefly at the noise, “you sound so pretty.”

In an effort to steal more noises from your pretty lips, his delicate thumb rubbed over your nipple, watching it harden under the fabric with a bemused smirk. Your breathing became heavy and shaky. 

“Can we– please?” you whined, but he only tutted, watching the fat crook under his finger.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I’m having my fun,” he said, nonchalantly, another hand snaking up to your other tit. “Been waiting for this since the first time I saw you.”

You couldn’t help but whimper quietly, his caresses and his intense gaze sending electricity straight to your core. You fingers wrapped around his forearms where they flexed, as he kneaded your chest eagerly. 

“That’s right,” he whispered and leaned into you, eyes half lidded and lips wet from spit. “Be a good girl and let me play with your pretty titties.” 

Then he kissed you again, groaning into your mouth at the weight of your tits in his hands. His groping became more rough and hurried, as he bit your lip and slipped his tongue in your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, need to get your shirt off, it’s so tight,” he groaned, licking into your mouth. You whined, back arching into his hand. “Poor baby, shirt so tight it’s strangling your pretty tits.” 

“Jeonghan, please!” You cried, putting one hand on his chest to push him away from you. He pulled away, lips red and swollen and cheeks delightfully flushed. 

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, comfortingly. “Okay, okay, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” 

You could cry. The way he was touching you so intimately, but refusing to snake his hand down to your burning core, where you could feel yourself fucking dripping. Your body was on fire and your voice was hoarse from the weed that still coursed through your body. 

“Please, please,” you mumbled, and it was desperate enough that Jeonghan pulled his hands from your chest (which took more willpower than he was willing to admit), sliding them over your back and pulling you into him. You nosed into the crook of his neck, sighing happily. 

“Alright, baby,” He breathed, hand in your hair. You felt his neck crane, looking around. 

“Come with me, baby, I know just where to go.” 

You didn’t even have time to whine that you didn’t want to go anywhere, you wanted him to touch you. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and crossed the pathway, and you saw the yellow, lit-up sign for the funhouse before you disappeared into the entrance. 

The first room had a large circular hallway, and when you stepped onto the red plastic, it rolled a little. You and Jeonghan both stumbled rockily, and you nosedived into his chest. He laughed, steadying you with warm fingers on your waist. “Silly girl,” his voice cooed in your ear. 

“Jeonghan, please touch me-” 

“We’re almost there, baby,” he said, and he was being a little annoying, because he’d just played with your boobs and made you so fucking wet that your panties were sticking to your folds, and now he was trudging you through the hallways of a funhouse. You both skiddered out of the circular hallway with much trouble. 

The next room was slanted, and in your intoxicated mind, this was more than a challenge. The whole room was blue and your knuckles became celeste, as you gripped the slanted railing. 

“Jeonghan, I can’t-” 

Not another word out of your lips, before Jeonghan was scooping you up in his arms, walking with seemingly no problem through the room. “Shit!” you yelped when he did so, but he only smiled at you, a mixture of adoration and teasing. He ran with you, his bride, through a black and white doorway. 

The next room was the mirror maze, and Jeonghan’s face lit up at the sight of it. 

“We’re here!” he panted giddily, gently lowering you. You found your footing and looked around, a little speechless at how quickly he’d constructed this plan. There were at least 20 different angles of you, and you cringed at your own disheveled appearance and how your tiny shirt dug into your skin. A hall of reflection, the roof and flooring was pitch black and only you and him existed in the void, copycats at every corner.

You saw Jeonghan in the mirror, walking up behind you. He was smirking, planting his head on your shoulder and peering up at you, as his hands caressed your waist, riding up your shirt and exposing your stomach 20 times over. You hated to say it, but seeing his veiny, big hands on you made your breath hitch. 

“Was it not worth it, hmm?” he sang innocently, blinking at you with a bunched up cheek on your shoulder. His sleazy hands worked the fabric upwards, just under the impressive bump of your chest. 

His eyes flicked over to the most nearby mirror. Breath becoming shaky, his hands lifted the shirt, finally, over your chest, exposing your simple, black bra and the soft skin of your tits. You could breathe easier, without the fabric digging into your chest. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, soft hands immediately dipping inwards to touch over the skin. “Shit, you’re so perfect,” his voice was strangled, all composure gone as he looked at your chest with something akin to wonder. 

You moaned, feeling his dick, fully fucking hard from just playing with your soft mounds, grinding into your ass. Like a horny teenage boy, he moaned shakily, big hands covering your boobs and squeezing, and rutting into you from behind. As much as you wanted him to touch you, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Jeonghan so utterly fucked out, using your body to pleasure himself. It was so erotic, the way his pretty face twisted in place and his fingers dug into the fat of your chest, panting into your neck. Then the sight untangled itself from your body.

“Sorry, sorry,” he was out of breath, removing his hips from your ass. “I got too caught up.” 

“It’s okay-”

He spun you around, pushing your body against the mirror. You stood back to back with your reflection. 

“No, it’s not,” he breathed, working your shirt the rest of the way off hastily. You lifted your arms to help the fabric off. 

You very barely registered Jeonghan snaking your pants off, and then his own clothes. You leaned your head on the mirror and you could finally breathe without the tight shirt, and you somehow felt stronger, not vulnerable like you would have expected. And when your eyes flicked to another mirror and you saw Jeonghan shirtless too, you realized the two of you were much more similar now. 

Jeonghan was standing in his boxers now, and you in your panties. 

“You know, I always thought you’d be more composed during sex,” you mused, returning your focus to him and smiling teasingly, because even now he was transfixed on your bare chest, heaving for air. Jeonghan scoffed, seemingly genuinely offended by this. 

“It’s not my fault your fat fucking rack has been staring at me through that tiny fucking shirt every day,” he spat, and in a sort of retaliation he cupped your pussy through your panties. 

Finally, he touched your cunt, and God, was it worth the wait, because it shot straight through your stomach, even the slightest touch on the cold, wet fabric. Jeonghan grinned cockily at the state of your underwear. 

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. “Your pussy is fucking weeping for me.” 

You moaned and your back twisted against the cold surface of the mirror, as Jeonghan slipped his finger upwards to circle your clit slowly. 

“N-ngh, fuck..” 

“There you go,” he said in fake sympathy, pouting, and even with his hand on your clit, you could almost believe it, because he just looked that angelic and pure. “Finally your greedy cunt has my hand, hm? Bet you’ve been thinking about this since we met.” 

He couldn’t help himself. He trailed his free up to your chest again. It just looked so delectable, unblemished skin, jiggling at every twitch and shake from you, and nipples hardened to pebbles. “I’ve been thinking about you since we met,” he sighed happily, pinching the nipples between his fingers and relishing in your strangled whine. 

Jeonghan slipped his hand in your panties, scoffing to himself at just how fucking wet you were, leaking from your hole like a slut, when his finger prodded at it. 

“P-Please, Jeonghan, please, fuck-” 

Your plea was cut off by Jeonghan’s hand gripping your throat. He smirked at your tortured expression, one hand circling your hole and the other wrapped around your neck, thumb climbing up your chin to rest on your lip.

“What do you want?” he tilted his head challengingly. You gulped, face flushed and baby hairs sticking to your sweat-gleamy face. 

“I-I want you to finger me,” you mustered, building up all the courage you could to hold eye contact with him and his lopsided grin. He raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. 

“Really?” he sang, “you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Of course, all those moments of shaming him for thirsting over you. Now you were basically fucking naked, tits perked up from your arched back and writhing under him for just a single finger in your glistening hole. 

“Jeonghan, I’m sorry-” 

His thumb on your lip tugged downwards, effectively muffling your words and shushing you. He watched your pretty lip bend to the will of his thumb, humming. 

“Then say it,” he shrugged.

“Wha?” your speech was slurred by his heavy thumb.

“Say you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy,” he repeated, acting exasperated, like it was your fault for not being able to keep up. Legs spread and utterly naked, you flushed and felt dumb, and you felt even dumber when you began to speak, and his thumb stayed where it was, weighing down your lip.

“I-I wan’ gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up my tight, pink pussy,” you slurred. Somehow the embarrassment translated into a wave of slick exciting your hole and landing on Jeonghan’s hand. He grinned at your obedience, hand pushing up so his thumb entered your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and the rest of his hand cradled your face. 

“Good girl,” he purred, head craned down to look at you, suckling his thumb with wide eyes. He finally heeded your request, two fingers pushing into your sopping heat. “Now suck on my thumb like the good, big-titted girl you fucking are while I make you cum.” 

He was immediately bullying his fingers in and out of you, curling them. Drool escaped where your lips wrapped around his thumb, as you moaned on it, feeling him poke and prod at your tongue with an evil smirk on his pretty face. You saw his dick print straining against his boxers in the corner of your vision.

“Been waiting for this pussy to be mine,” hummed Jeonghan, long eyelashes coming over his eyes when he looked down at you. “You know, if you’d been a little more cooperative I could’ve had my cock in you everyday for the past week.” 

You sobbed around his thumb, panting for air through your nose. His fingers felt so good, pistoning into you and so thin you could feel the bulge of each crooking knuckle churning in and out. His thumb sneaked back up to rub your clit again, and you clawed at his shoulders, trying to stabilize your suddenly shaking legs. 

Jeonghan let out the most erotic, guttural moan you’d ever heard, when he watched drool slip from your swollen, red lips and languidly ooze on your trembling chest. His face twisted in pleasure at the sight of them, becoming all shiny and slicked up from your own spit. 

“Fuck, you’re so pathetic. Can’t believe you’re fucking drooling all over your tits,” he spat, cheeks flushed as he leaned back to look at them, all pretty and slick and glowing under the maze’s fluorescent tubes. He slipped his thumb from your mouth to begin smearing the spit all over your skin. 

Your cunt pulsed around his fingers, clenching and unclenching as something in your belly tightened. You heaved for air, moaning loudly into the maze and practically crying. 

“F-Fuck, Hannie, f-feels s’ good!” you whined, chest thrashing under his needy hands. He lifted his gaze to smile at you, where he was crooked over to look closely at your spit-slick boobs. 

“I know, baby, I know. Cum on my fingers, now, m’kay?” He smiled cheekily, pressing especially hard on your clit. You saw white, orgasm so potent, you almost didn’t even register how Jeonghan dived into your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples 

The wet, smacking of his lips and his pleased humming into the soft skin only spurred on your orgasm, as your cum coated Jeonghan’s fingers. His nose, buried in the flesh of your tit, breathed out a dam of warm air into it. 

His fingers stilled within you, slowly pulling out, while he continued to lap at your chest, warm tongue on your areola. You tried to catch your breath, but it was hard with how he moaned around your fucking tit, sucking and smacking his lips, while holding you to him. You cried out softly when he nibbled at it, to which he finally pulled away, smiling teasingly. 

There was something about the way he was so shameless about it, that almost made you feel even more ashamed, especially when you saw your form in the mirror, and how wet and red your boob was from his insistent sucking. You blushed deeply. 

“You gettin’ shy on me now?” he tapped your cheek, eyes twinkling. 

“Not used to seeing myself,” you mumbled sheepishly. Jeonghan’s ever lust-filled gaze was overtaken with a very deep, fundamental adoration. His smile became genuine - not teasing nor in feigned sympathy. Despite being the sexiest person he’d ever met, Jeonghan found you so severely cute in that moment, all heaved breaths and glossy lips and rosy cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, tapping your nose. The action would’ve been annoying were not entirely too fond of him at this moment. His eyes wandered, trailing down your collarbones and back to your cleavage. Then returned the lust: “Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous girl with big, bouncing fuckin’ tits.” 

His fascination with them was genuinely insane, but you thought he was pretty and sweet, so you let him marvel.

As if he could never get enough, he reached out one hand and cupped your tit again. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your pretty tits?” Jeonghan asked, experimentally pressing the mounds together and licking his lips at the sight. He had to swallow (and he would never admit this) because the idea actually had him salivating. 

“Yes, Hannie,” you said sweetly, because although you really wanted his dick inside you, he had that twinkle in his eye that made your heart burst, and, indeed, you would do anything to keep the starlight blazing in his pupils. Jeonghan looked up with raised brows - this time, the surprise was not feigned. Swiftly, he grabbed your head and kissed you, deeply and appreciatively licking into your mouth. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, rowing the two of you away from the mirror-wall with his tongue down your throat. “Good fucking girl.” 

He pulled away from you, frantically looking around, and you simply waited for his command. He began to crawl onto the floor, lying down on the hard, sleek black flooring, resting on his elbows. 

“C’mere,” was all he said, and you sat down on top of him, confused. He wantonly pushed you by your shoulder so you rested further down, while he lifted his hip to free his cock. 

It was long and right by your fucking face. 

Impossibly pretty and pink near the tip, it oozed sticky, white liquid, dripping down the veiny side, and now you were salivating, because you almost wanted to take it in your mouth and suck his soul out. 

“Shit,” he groaned, studying your face next to his hard, heavy dick with a tortured expression on his face. It seemed his thoughts had traveled the same road as yours, because when he spoke, he said: “There’s so much I wanna do to you, doll. Give me another couple shifts, I’ll have your cum all over the fucking park.” 

Without another word, he leaned forward and grabbed each of your tits, hovering just below where his dick extended out, proud and tall like a gothic church. You helped by crawling further over his tan body, lying down on your stomach with your chest raised up. 

Jeonghan enclosed your tits around his dick, breath shaking and eyes blinking shut. The sounds he released were angelic, wetting and rewetting his fiery lips, and he struggled to keep his eyes open from the pleasure. He didn’t want to close them though, because the sight of you was insane. 

You were so pretty, smiling in adoration where you laid between his legs. Prettiest girl in the world, he thought, just letting him bounce your fat tits up and down his shaft like a good, obedient girl. Your rack was like a fucking cloud around him, jerking him off and spurting pre-cum on the already slick skin. 

“S-Shit, you’re so fucking- pretty-” he stuttered, breath trembling and face flushed. From every angle he saw you, perfect, pretty, cute and sweet you. Every version of you in the mirror was perfect, he realized, every copycat a perfect picture. 

“You’re pretty,” you mused, wrapping your hand around the lower part of his shaft where your tits didn’t quite reach and squeezing it. Jeonghan moaned, stammering the breathy noise. He gulped then. 

“I-I’m gonna cum, shit-” he sucked in a harsh breath. He could not believe how lovely you were, how witty and funny and sweet and how big your fucking tits were bouncing up and down around his cock. “C-Can I cum on them, baby?” 

“Of course, Hannie,” you obeyed sweetly, watching how he desperately bucked his hips upwards. Squeezing your hand around the base of his cock, you let out a final admission to help him cum: “Want you to cum on my tits, Hannie, want it so bad.”

Sure enough, it was that easy, because without warning long ropes of thick, white cum spurted into the valley of your breasts and climbed up to your collarbones and neck. Jeonghan cried out when he came, eyes finally squeezing totally shut and hips stuttering into your chest. He sounded angelic, even with his voice hoarse from the weed and grunting. 

You let him calm down, waited until his pants turned into soft, regular breaths, and released his now flaccid cock from your cleavage. 

“Oh shit, baby,” he sighed happily. “Come up here.” 

You crawled up to his chest, curling into his open arms and feeling him under your cheek. Your legs entangled on the funhouse floor, mirrors a little foggy from the sweat and the sex. It was perfect, lying in his chest, having him, knowing he wanted you and liked you. Perfectly timeless, you draped over each other limply. 

Or almost perfect. 

You wiggled your hips away from his body, hoping then he wouldn’t notice how you were still leaking from your poor, puffy hole. Jeonghan frowned when you did so, though, both hands grabbing your waist and tilting his head down to look at you. 

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

You looked away bashfully, shaking your head, but Jeonghan gripped your face in one hand, just as condescending as his thumb had been earlier: “You’re covered in my cum, baby. You’re not getting shy on me now. Tell Hannie what’s troubling you.” 

His voice was stern. You tightened your lips the best you could with his hand squeezing your cheeks together.

“I just..” you were embarrassed again, with how your words became muffled and slurred by his flexed hand. He paid it no mind though, looking at you intently to continue. 

“YouweresoprettyearlierIgotwetagain.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. From beyond the dark void, you heard Jeonghan laughing. You opened your eyes and he removed his hand from your face, instead brushing it through your hair lovingly. 

You were gonna get whiplash with how lovingly he looked at you, how sweetly and with so much wonder and adoration; and how it stood in such a stark contrast to the words that left his mouth: 

“Baby, you just get up and bounce your fat tiddies around a little bit, I promise you, I’ll get hard in the next five fucking minutes. Then you can get my cock in your cute, greedy pussy. How’s that sound?”

Really fucking good.

#svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt angst #seventeen smut #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshot #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #jeonghan angst #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan angst #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x you #smut #fluff #angst #crack

[cheolism]

✧ mirror mirror

✧ yoon jeonghan x f!reader ✧ summary: jeonghan asks to roleplay him being jealous and fucks you like the little desperate slut you are ✧ wc is approx 10.7k ✧ tags: roleplaying, secret relationship (mentioned but not explored), smut ✧ warnings: mdni. feminine pet names, use of slut, pervert, mounting. jealousy, posessiveness, taunting and teasing, picture taking. rough and unprotected sex, squirting, dry humping. mirror sex, aftercare, roleplaying. ✧ request: i’m not quite sure if you’re still taking requests but do you think i could request jeonghan (preferably dom but sub would be fine too) smut with mirror? you can take ur time with it hope it’s not a bother! love reading your fics! have a great day🫶🫶 ✧ anon idk if this is what u wanted but i ran w it. i'm sorry it took a hot minute!!! i hope you enjoy it <3333

He had been watching you all night. 

Jeonghan's eyes always tended to be turned towards you, but not like this. Usually he watched you with unbridled affection, love, adoration. But tonight his gaze was narrowed, his eyes sharp and dark, accentuated by the way he would constantly brush his dark bangs back and away from his face.

You didn't know what you had done to deserve that look from him. You weren't wearing anything revealing, hadn't done anything tantalizing or seductive. All night you had just sat at the couch, sipping at your drink and nodding along to Seungcheol's words.

Your friend was pleasantly buzzed, a large smile on his face and cheeks blushed. He had defeated a few others in beer pong, but that hadn't meant he walked away unscathed.

"I really think we'll be seeing all this warm weather bite us in the ass come summer," he was saying. "There's no way we don't."

You hummed, agreeing. "Remember when it got so cold that one year where it was in the negatives during the afternoon?"

"Yes!" Seungcheol gasped, eyes bright. Mingyu approached the couch, a pout on his face. He wedged himself next to Seungcheol and the arm of the couch, forcing Seungcheol closer to you.

Your thighs were touching his, his shoulder against yours. The two of you adjusted to get more comfortable, but not separating entirely.

There was movement from the wall. Jeonghan was still watching you, eyes taking in your every move. It was obvious he wasn't paying attention to Seokmin, who was dramatically waving his arms around to emphasize his story.

Jeonghan had, uncharacteristically, worn all black, form-fitting clothing. His jeans clung to his legs, revealing their slender shape; he wore a tank-top that hugged his stomach and chest, only hidden by his jacket. His hair was as black as his clothes, adding to the overall look that had your neurons and electrons screaming, eyes constantly smoothing over his form in an attempt to memorize the look.

Seungcheol shifted. He turned towards you, his wide body partially shielding Jeonghan from your view. He moved his arm to press against the couch, caging you in on one side. Seungcheol's bangs obscured his eyes as he ducked his head, voice low.

"I know you're dating Jeonghan." He ignored your gasp, your eyes widening. "And I know he hasn't looked away from you once all night. How about I help move things along, hm?"

"Seungcheol --"

"Don't worry, princess," Seungcheol grinned, eyes still holding that dangerously bright look. He reached out, hand cradling your cheek. "I won't tell anyone. Won't have to after this."

Then he was being shoved away from you, his body hitting Mingyu's. Your boyfriend was standing in front of the two of you, his drink gone, his jaw jutting out as he visibly tried to reign in his anger. Jeonghan, however much he tried to appear otherwise, wasn't good at hiding his emotions.

His anger was seen in the furrow of his brows, the firmness of his lips; the harsh, dark look of his eyes and the way his hands clenched at his sides.

"Y/n," He began, eyes never moving from Seungcheol. "Didn't you say that you couldn't stay long tonight? I think it's time for you to be going home. Why don't I take you."

You knew he wasn't asking, but commanding. Confused, but obedient, you stood from the couch. "I guess that's all right. See you later, Seungcheol."

"Bye, baby," Seungcheol sang, relaxing back in the couch. He had a little smirk on his face, pleased.

Jeonghan scoffed, grabbing your wrist. He pulled you towards him, his other hand settling on your waist. "Fuck off, Choi Seungcheol."

Seungcheol's laughter followed the two of you as you left the room, Jeonghan's grip on you never faltering. Eyes turned towards the two of you as you left the house party, taking in Jeonghan's hold on you, how urgently he maneuvered you.

Jeonghan said nothing to you as he led you to his car. He did open the passenger door for you, gently pushing you down onto the seat. You peered up at him with wide eyes as he stood before you, towering over your sitting form. "Jeonghan? Seungcheol wasn't doing anything, you don't have anything to be jealous about, I swear."

A soft smile that countered the past five minutes took over Jeonghan's face. He braced his hands on the car, leaning down and lowering his face towards you. "I know, sweetheart. But let's pretend he was, and let's pretend that I do."

"Pretend?"

Jeonghan's smile turned into a little smirk, the dark look that he had worn inside the house from watching you with Seungcheol returning to his face. "Pretend, my darling. Let's pretend Seungcheol was intent on fucking your perfect little pussy, and let's pretend I'm driven mad by jealousy, mad enough to fuck your cunt raw."

Every single thought flew out of your mind, eyes wide on your boyfriend. It was like the whole world went silent, shocked by his words.

Then you rewound his words. He wanted to pretend that Seungcheol, his best friend, had wanted -- you gulped -- wanted to "fuck your perfect little pussy", wanted to pretend that he was jealous so he could have an excuse to fuck you roughly.

The two of you had begun having sex a few weeks ago, a month after you had begun your relationship. There hadn't been enough time for the two of you, in your shared opinion, to be fully comfortable with having rougher sex.

Not that sex had been boring with Jeonghan. Not with how expertly he worked his fingers in your cunt, exploring within you. Not with how he was content to just lay between your thighs, arms wrapped around them to keep them spread wide, tonguing lazily at your clit for what seemed to be hours on end.

But still --

"If it's okay with you, of course," Jeonghan hurriedly added. He stepped off the curb, crowding into the car. His fingers sunk into your hair, tilting your head back. Jeonghan's eyes flickered over your face, drinking you in. "We can talk about it more on the drive."

You nodded, swallowing harshly.

Jeonghan smiled. He bent down, pressing his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. The smell of alcohol hit your nose, and you couldn't help but wrinkle it.

Jeonghan laughed. "Cute."

Another kiss, this time deeper. He moved his mouth against yours lavishly, taking his time, as if the world would stop turning just so he could devour you. Each press was quick and wet, his tongue rolling into your mouth and mixing his spit with yours; each press sent a wave of heat through you, your head beginning to spin.

Jeonghan moved away, a string of spit connecting his mouth to yours, the smack of mouths separating sending a final wave of heat, one that landed in your cunt.

He laughed, darting forward to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. "How cute you are. You look like I've been fucking you when all we've done is kiss."

"Hush." You turned your head away from him, breaking his hold. Jeonghan pulled away and shut the car door, but even then you could hear the sound of his giggles.

One thing about Yoon Jeonghan, you had come to discover, was that he was absolutely shameless. The two of you kept your relationship on the quieter end, but that didn't stop him. He'd tug you to the back of the group when you were with your friends, just so he could slip his hand into your back pocket and squeeze. He'd grab you before you walked out the door for work whenever the two of you spent the night together, pressing you against the wall and ravishing your mouth and neck, leaving bites and sucking hickeys.

He took delight in your embarrassment and it seemed the more embarrassed you got, the more pleased he was.

"Aesh," Jeonghan sighed, sliding in the driver's door. "Can't believe you're still embarrassed by a little kissing."

"You kissed me like -- like --" You shot him a look, curling your lip a little, hoping he would drop it.

"Like what?" Jeonghan taunted, putting the key into the ignition. "Like we were fucking?"

You gasped, shooting him a wide-eyed look. "Yoon Jeonghan!"

He laughed, putting on his seat belt. You were quiet as he pulled off the side of the road, the radio softly singing and filling the silence.

"So about me being jealous," Jeonghan began, drumming his fingers on the wheel. "I'm not. Just want to clarify. I know Seungcheol was just fucking around with me. But it would be fun to pretend, wouldn't it?"

You hummed, shifting in the seat. You reached towards the console, pushing on your seat warmer. Jeonghan shook his head when you shot him an inquiring look, declining the warmer.

"What would it include? Being jealous?"

Jeonghan shrugged. His black hair was pushed behind his ears with just enough curl to where the strands hugged the bottoms of his earlobes. He looked so sweet, with his impish little grin and large eyes. Jeonghan was so beautiful, so angelic, so princely --

And underneath it all was a pervert.

"Well. It includes all the territory that comes with being jealous when someone's trying to fuck their partner. Possessiveness, manhandling, hickeys. Fucking your sweet little cunt relentlessly, shoving my dick inside." Your pussy, shamefully, clenched aruond nothing at the lewdness. "Proving that every single inch of you, every centimeter, from the precious hair on the top of your head, your tight cunt, your littlest toe, is mine.

"If you're interested in that kinda thing."

You turned away from Jeonghan, tongue running over your lips.

Against your better judgement you began imagining it. Jeonghan's large hands squeezing your thighs, peeling them apart. His mouth on your breast, biting and sucking in turn, tongue running over your hardened nipples. Nails digging into your skin, shoulders wedging between your legs. Fingers working you open just enough to fit his dick without causing you pain, careless otherwise.

Jeonghan ramming his dick into your cunt, immediately filling you with his entire length and cockhead hitting your core. Your legs draped over his shoulders, his body flush against yours, his fingers squeezing your skin hard enough to leave bruises.

"You wouldn't be mean, would you?" You leaned forward, pushing the seat warmer off. Your ass was warm, and combined with the warmth that was quickly mounting in your cunt made you uncomfortable.

Mounting.

Jeonghan, in a fit of possessiveness, flinging you to your stomach. Hands grabbing at your hips, wrenching you up for him to fuck you on his cock, mounting you like --

Maybe you were the pervert.

"No," Jeonghan agreed, "I wouldn't be mean. And if I say anything you don't like, you can use the safe word and stop it. Besides. You're too cute. I don't think anyone can be mean to you."

You threw Jeonghan an exasperated look.  He was grinning, the streetlights casting shadows on his face, exaggerating the cut of his cheekbones, shrouding him in darkness and light both.

"Okay." You licked your lips again. "Let's do it."

"Say it." Jeonghan sang, removing one hand off of the wheel to tuck some stray black hairs behind his ear. "I want you to say it. Say 'Jeonghan, my darling, my love, I want you to fuck me like a jealous lover.'"

Huffing, you turned away from him and looked out the window. Jeonghan giggled. You crossed your legs at the ankles, tucking your hands underneath your thighs. Softly, just enough so he could hear, you repeated his words. "Jeonghan, I want -- I want you to fuck me like you're jealous."

"Why would I be jealous, sweet girl?"

You turned your head to look over your shoulder at him, squirming. He used such sweet names with you, and it was absolutely horrible how they sent warmth flooding through you, how they seemed to settle in the pit of your gut, your pussy clenching and gushing.

"You'd -- you'd be jealous of Cheollie," you murmured. "Jealous of Cheollie wanting . . ."

"What does he want?"

You licked your lips, watching the line of his sharp jaw, the way his dark eyes stared straight ahead. "He wants -- he wants to fuck me."

"Fuck your what?"

A little gasp escaped you. As your words left your lips your pussy began to leak, juices slowly trickling out and seeping into your underwear. "Cheollie wants to fuck my -- my pussy."

It was as if Jeonghan won a competition. His face lit up, satisfaction practically radiating off of him. He looked so thoroughly smug, getting you to say such dirty words.

You glanced down at his lap. His jeans, which had done nothing to hide the muscle of his thighs and the shape of his legs, did absolutely zilch in concealing the bulge of his dick. It pressed against his jeans, and you bet he felt so uncomfortable like that. You wanted to reach over the console and unzip his jeans, reach into his boxers and take out his cock, his pretty long cock.

Immediately your mouth went to watering, and you were mortified when you shifted and felt the wetness of your underwear. You were leaking from both your mouth and cunt and all Jeonghan had done was say some dirty words.

You were such a fucking pervert.

Jeonghan's little hum distracted you from your peril. He lowered the volume of the radio, even though you could barely hear it in the first place. He didn't return his hand to the wheel; instead he laid his hand on your thigh, fingers quickly squeezing your flesh before relaxing.

"You've been so mean to me tonight," Jeonghan sighed, pressing his pretty lips into a frown. "You knew what you were doing, didn't you? Letting Seungcheol snuggle up against you like that on the couch."

"Hannie?"

His hand squeezed your thigh again. His fingers, his long and elegant fingers that should be used for playing piano or guitar or something other than what your pussy hoped he was going to use them for, shifted up your thigh.

You should've worn a skirt or shorts, damn the winter weather.

"You sat with Seungcheol all night." Jeonghan's fingers brushed against the inside seam of your jeans. You watched, transfixed, as his nails played with it. "Ignored me, your boyfriend, in favor of my best friend."

"Didn't mean to," you whispered, swallowing absentmindedly. He tapped his fingers against your inner thigh and immediately you were spreading your legs, baring yourself for him.

A laugh left Jeonghan, amused by your obedience. His hand slid over your thigh and settled over your clothed cunt. A sharp gasp left you, both of your hands shooting to hold his wrist in place. Before you could help it you were grinding your hips up, driving your cunt against his hand.

"What a needy slut you are," Jeonghan said conversationally, as if he was just remarking on the weather. Then he paused. "Is that mean?"

You shook your head. "No. Not mean."

"Did you like it?" You went silent. Jeonghan, delighted, laughed. "Let me feel your cunt. I bet you did like it."

You released his hand. You were mortified of the mess you knew awaited him in your pants. Wetness had completely soaked your underwear, your cunt hot and clenching frantically, as if you were -- as if you were a needy slut.

Once your jeans were bunched around your knees, Jeonghan's hand returned to your cunt. He pressed it against your underwear, trapping it between his hand and your pussy. "You definitely liked it.  Your cunt has fucking soaked your panties. I bet I could drink your juices right from your panties."

You gasped, offended and thoroughly turned on by the image. Jeonghan ignored you. "We'll be pulling into the lot soon. As soon as we leave the car, it starts, okay? Is that okay?"

You nodded. Jeonghan removed his hand from your cunt, making you clench. Part of you wanted Jeonghan to just stick his fingers inside of you already, to press your underwear to the side and fuck you in the car.

That, however, was too much for you right now.

So you hiked your jeans back up your thighs, frowning at the feeling of your underwear sticking to your cunt once again.

Jeonghan pulled into his car space, unclipping his seat belt as he did. Once he had the car in park and turned off the engine, he reached to you. One of his hands went to your belt, guiding it off of you. "Remember, sweetheart. Just pretend.”

“Just pretend,” you echoed back, smiling at him.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, both of his hands moving to cradle your face. “How fucking cute,” he sighed, as if your cuteness was burdensome. He ducked forward, pressing his lips to yours in a quick kiss. “I adore you.”

You laughed a little, delighted. You reached up, hands covering his and keeping them on your face. Your lips sought his back out, pressing a sweet kiss to them. Jeonghan, who was always eager for kisses and hardly ever turned them down, let out a little moan against your mouth. 

His hands sunk into your hair, bringing you closer. Jeonghan’s mouth began to move urgently against yours, trapping your lips between his, each kiss more hurried and sloppy than the one before it. 

It was weirdly hot, listening to the slick sounds of your mouth against his, kissing so desperately in his car. Your cunt gushed slick, and when you couldn’t help but pitch forward, grinding your clit down on your seat, your mouth parted in a wide, noiseless gasp. 

Jeonghan parted from you, his lips in a little grin. “So needy,” he cooed. Jeonghan pressed a final kiss to your mouth. “You ready?”

At your nod, Jeonghan was taking out the keys and opening the car door. You scrambled to leave your seat, shoving the seat belt back inside the car when it tried to hang out. 

Jeonghan was fumbling with his keys, leaning against the car when you joined him. His black hair was obscuring his face, and for a moment you were confused. 

Then he sighed, one of his hands reaching up and pushing his hair out of his face. He gave you a sharp look, his eyes hard. “What a greedy slut I’ve got on my hands, hm?”

Realization and heat flooded your system. You gaped, eyes widening a little. 

Jeonghan shook his head, pushing off of the car. He crossed to you, his hands settling on your waist. “Imagine how it looked to everyone else at that party, Y/n. Seungcheol was practically wrapped around you, his eyes fucking you right there in front of me. And you just let him.”

He laughed, a humorless thing that had your heart dipping down into the pit of your stomach. One of his hands wiggled up underneath your shirt, fingers lightly digging into your hip. “God. I bet every single bastard in that place thinks he’s the one fucking you at night. Do you think? Do you think that Mingyu thinks it’s Seungcheol making you cry at night with his dick, thinks it’s Seungcheol who makes your cunt seep so much wet that it could drown a man?”

You were saying his name, though no sound left your lips. Jeonghan shook his head, long lashes fluttering as he closed his eyes to further envelope himself in the role. “Do you think Seungcheol dreams of it? I bet he does. I bet he’s going to go home tonight and stick his hands down his pants and think of you.”

“Jeonghan!” You finally gasped, your hand, seemingly of its own will, reaching up and slapping his shoulder. 

His eyes flew open, his mouth splitting into a smile that you could only describe as villainous. “Oh? Are you trying to feign innocence? Trying to pretend that you’re some little perfect princess? Trying to convince yourself that you have no part in all this?”

“I --” You gulped. Jeonghan parted from you, though one of his hands remained on you. He used it to guide you away from the car and towards the building. “Seungcheol’s your friend, Jeonghan.”

“You think that matters?” Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Think friendship matters when it comes to this?”

“He wouldn’t.” Jeonghan’s hand slides down your waist and to your ass as the two of you come upon the stairs, softly pushing and guiding you up the stairs. “Seungcheol isn’t like that.”

Jeonghan laughed. “And if he is? Do you know what it’s like, little dove? Knowing that it’ll be your girl that your best friend’s thinking about tonight when he fucks the nearest cunt? Knowing that it’s your girl who is so blissfully unaware?”

“Or,” Jeonghan began, holding out the word as the two of you ascended onto your floor. He used his grip on you to tug you close, your side against his. “Is that what you’re wanting?”

“Jeonghan!” You snapped. He shook out the keys, long fingers finding the correct one and sticking it into the keyhole. “You’re just being bullheaded about this. You’re making a mountain out of a mole hole.”

“Yeah?” He pushed open the door, immediately flicking on the light. Then he was yanking the keys out of the hole, both of his hands going to your hips. Jeonghan practically shoved you inside the apartment, though his grip was secure. Once the two of you were inside he slammed the door shut, throwing the keys onto the floor. 

One of his hands moved from your hip to cradle the back of your head, and then he was pushing you up against the door. Jeonghan’s hand kept your head from slamming against it, and once you were settled he used the grip on your hair to angle your face up towards him. “You really think I’m just being stubborn?”

Your lips were already parted, your heavy breathing drying them out. You gulped, running your tongue over them and not missing how his dark eyes seemed to zero in on your mouth. “Yes. You’re being -- you’re being ridiculous, Yoon Jeonghan. There’s nothing to be jealous about?”

“Nothing?” He practically hissed the word. Jeonghan pressed himself against you, wedging his leg between yours, knee knocking against the door. His other arm came up and trapped you, keeping you still. “Nothing to be jealous about, sweetheart? So tell me, then, if you’re so smart. Tell me that every single time Seungcheol watched your lips, tell me that every single time his hand went to your thigh, every time he leaned in so close --”

At this Jeonghan lowered his head, his warm breath hitting your face. You could count his eyelashes. 

“-- he wasn’t imagining kissing you, wasn’t imaging fucking you right there on that couch in front of me, making me watch.

“Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me I’m just jealous over nothing.”

You licked your lips again, feeling trapped. You knew, logically, that all of what Jeonghan had just said were lies. Seungcheol never watched your mouth when you spoke, his hand had never gone even close to your thigh. He never leaned as close as Jeonghan was now, so close that you could just push up to the tips of your toes and your lips would be on his. 

But Jeonghan, looming over you, exuded a predator waiting to pounce. His eyes were so dark they were practically black, focused on you. His body was caging you in, leaving you no room to wiggle. 

“You’re --” Your hands moved to settle on his arms, squeezing. “You’re jealous over nothing, Yoon Jeonghan.”

He growled as soon as his name left your lips. Jeonghan’s hand in your hair tightened, and he used the hold to bare your neck. Immediately his lips were on it, biting. 

A loud gasp left you, your eyes squeezing shut. 

Jeonghan’s tongue smoothed over the bite, trying to take away the sting. Then his lips were traveling, skimming, trailing his tongue over your skin and causing gooseflesh to pebble. A little whine escaped you. 

“There we are,” he murmured. He reattached his lips to your skin, beginning to suck. While he worked at bruising and marking your neck, he raised the leg that was between your thighs. Once his knee bumped at your cunt you were folding, grinding down on it as if it was his cock. 

“Jeonghan,” you moaned, feeling something begin to build. Pressure was mounting in your cunt, and you used Jeonghan’s thigh to rub off as if the two of you were horny teenagers who couldn’t even make it to the bed. 

“How needy you are,” he breathed against your neck. He released your hair, his fingers moving to ghost over your neck and the marks he left. You couldn’t help but hiss as he pressed his fingers into a particular spot, wincing. “You’re so fucking needy. No wonder you were off fucking with Seungcheol. Just can’t help yourself, can you? As soon as your boyfriend is looking away you’re searching for the nearest dick.”

You shook your head, hands squeezing at his shoulders and nails digging in. “No! Not -- not the nearest -- not Cheol --”

Jeonghan laughed, moving away from you. His hands settled on your hips, guiding you into a harsh ryuthym as you grinded down on his thigh. “Here you are fucking yourself on my thigh and still thinking about him. I bet you could get off like this, can’t you? Get off on my thigh like a little slut.”

Biting on your lip, you shook your head. “Won’t! I won’t, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan hummed. “I bet you would if it was Seungcheol.”

“Wouldn’t! I wouldn’t --” A particular drag of your cunt against his leg had your back arching, mouth widening and eyes shutting. Pleasure shot through you, as if you were doing something more than just using your boyfriend’s thigh. 

“You would,” Jeonghan argued. “So needy you don’t even need a cock.”

“I need it,” you whined, shaking your heard. Your hands moved from his shoulders, going to grip at his hair. Then you were lowering his head, forcing Jeonghan closer. “Need your cock, Jeonghan.”

He didn’t get a chance to do anything before your mouth was on his, devouring. You took his lower lip between both of yours, sucking. Jeonghan let out a little moan, his fingers digging into your hips and stilling him. He ignored your whine. Instead Jeonghan focused on your mouth, shoving his tongue inside of it, forcing his spit into your mouth, using it, fucking it.

Lungs burning, you pulled away from him. You couldn’t manage to go far, smearing your combined saliva over his mouth and chin as you fought to catch your breath. 

Jeonghan squeezed your hips. “All good, dove?”

You nodded, hands releasing his hair. 

“Give me the safe word, darling,” Jeonghan pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Need to know you’re not all spent out from just kissing.”

You rolled your eyes, finally straightening. Jeonghan’s eyes were twinkling, though they hadn’t lost that dark, predatory look. “Green.”

His mouth returned to yours, pressing sloppy kisses to your lips. His hands moved from your hips, dipping inside of your jeans. You fought the urge to grind down on his thigh as Jeonghan’s fingers made quick work of your button and zipper, his fingers hooking into your jeans and underwear and pulling them over the curve of your ass. 

You stepped out of your jeans, and he was kicking them away. Jeonghan’s hands went to your hips and he was grinding his knee back up into your cunt, the fabric of his jeans dragging deliciously against you. You couldn’t help the little cry that left you, tilting your head back and letting it hit the door. 

“I don’t think you deserve my cock just yet,” Jeonghan murmured, leading your hips into motion. He had your clit dragging down on his jeans, insuring that every tilt back or forward had your clit moving over hte fabric, ensuyring that your cunt was soaking his pants. “Gotta earn it. Especially after your little show with Seungcheol.”

You shook your head. “Jeonghan, want your dick. I want it, please.”

“How prettily you beg,” Jeonghan laughed, though there was no happiness, no joy in it. “Love it when you beg. But you’re gonna have to give me more than that, my pretty little slut. Come on, dove. I’m giving you my thigh like a good boyfriend does. If you’re so devoted for me, like you’re claiming you are, you can get off just with my thigh. Can’t you? I know you can, sweetheart. I can feel your juices soaking my pants, can feel your little hole fluttering. Just have to give me one orgasm, lovely. Come on, cum for me.”

The cry that left you was absurdly loud. Your back arched against the door, your hips coming up and off of Jeonghan. He cursed, wrapping one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place while his other hand went to your cunt. 

Jeonghan’s fingers went to your clit, working at it furiously. You were still cumming, cries and moans leaving you freely. 

As soon as you were finished, panting and squeezing your eyes closed, you relaxed against the door. Jeonghan wrapped both of his arms around you, pulling you into him fully. “Good job, sweetheart. Knew you could do it for me.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. Once you caught your breath, you pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Okay. Green.”

Jeonghan pulled back, one of his hands moving to your face. He reached up and tucked your hair back from your face, smoothing it and wiping off the sweat that had begun to accumulate. “You look like I’ve been fucking you all night.”

You laughed, breathless. “I feel like it.”

“Oh?” Jeonghan’s hands resumed their place on your hips, fingers digging in. You gasped, eyes wide and looking up at him. “But I’m not done with you yet, little dove. In fact, I don’t think we’ve even started.”

Then he was using his grip to hoist you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Jeonghan moved from the door, stepping further into the hall. 

“Wait.” As soon as the word left your lips Jeonghan was pausing, eyes on your face. You tugged on one of the dark strands of hair. “Boots. Have to take off your boots.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but then he was setting you on the floor. “Way to kill the mood, little dove. Go wait for me on the bed.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, jumping onto your toes to press a quick kiss to his chin. Then you were taking off down the hall, ignoring the sound of your boyfriend grumbling behind you. 

As soon as you were in your bedroom you were shucking off your socks, leaving them in the doorway. You undressed the rest of the way, leaving your clothes in a trail to your bed. 

You practically threw yourself onto it, sprawling out. You could hear Jeonghan stomping about, moving from the hall and into the bathroom. 

Absentmindedly, your hands began to wander over your body. Your fingers trailed over your stomach, leaving a tingling path behind them. You pressed them to your nipples, neary hissing in pain from how erect they were. Unable to help yourself you rolled them, toes curling in delight. 

“Well well,” Jeonghan began from the doorway. You hurriedly sat up, not having heard him leave the bathroom. “If this is a present to make up for your little act with Seungcheol, I’d consider you maybe a little bit forgiven.”

“Only a little?” You joked, wrinkling your nose at him. “After the whole incident at the door? Only a little?”

Jeonghan laughed, walking further into the room. You watched, eager, as he tugged at the sleeves of his jacket. Jeonghan undressing, you had come to discover, was just as good as undressing him yourself. He always went slow, letting you take in the sight. 

He draped his jacket over your desk chair, his forearms flexing. His black tank top clung to his torso, revealing the sharp angles of his collarbone and showing off his long, pale neck. Jeonghan, though not considerably buff, was lean. He didn’t have the biggest biceps or thighs or whatever of his friends, but still you watched his biceps clench as he worked at undoing his watch, watched his muscles jump as he gripped the bottom of his tank top and began pulling. 

You don’t know exactly what noise escaped you as his chest was revealed, but you were so turned on that you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Your eyes roamed over his pale chest, taking in the shape of pecs, the soft little curve of his waist. 

Yoon Jeonghan was many things, many contradictory things. He was sweet and kind, mischievous and impulsive. He was the first person you turned to for comfort, the last when you had a secret. He was an angel; a devil. 

But one thing that was hard fact, you knew, was that Yoon Jeonghan was absolutely beautiful. 

His hands moved to his pants, which he had left undone. You moved from your spot on the bed, shifting to perch at the edge and watch. Jeonghan began moving closer, pushing his pants down. 

As soon as he was close enough you were reaching for him. You tucked your hands underneath the band of his underwear, pulling. His cock slapped against his stomach once freed, red and angry, white precum pulsing from the tip. 

You liked your lips, moving to grab his dick. 

Immediately his hands were around your wrists, pulling your hands away from him. You gasped, looking up at him, affronted. “Jeonghan!”

He gave you a sly little look, shaking his head. “Come on. You think cumming on my thigh was enough to make me forget about your little flirtation with Seungcheol?”

Jeonghan used his grip on your wrists to pull you up and off the bed. The sudden motion had you tipping forward and flat into his chest, face pressing against the fabric of his tank top. He still smelled like the expensive cologne he wore, still smelled sharp and elegant, like wood and richness. 

“Please,” he scoffed, releasing his hold on one of your wrists to reach up and press your hair back from your face. Undoubtedly you looked horrible. You probably looked like -- well, you probably looked like you had orgasmed against a door. Still Jeonghan looked at you hungrily, drinking in the way you pulled at his hold, the little breath that left you when he refused to let go. “Do you really think I’d be satisfied watching you get off on my leg? Just anyone could lend you their thigh, little dove.”

He leaned down, his face inches from yours. His breath was warm against your face when he spoke. “But I know only one person who can fuck as you as good as you deserve.”

“Yeah?” You replied, breathless. His eyes were so black that you could barely differentiate between the pupil and iris. “And who’s that?”

Jeonghan chuckled then, but you knew he didn’t find anything funny about what you had said. He tilted your chin up towards him with one of his fingers, his thumb running over your bottom lip. Obedient, you opened your mouth for him and let Jeonghan slip his thumb inside. You wrapped your lips around it, hollowing them and sucking. 

“What a good girl,” he hummed, his eyes narrowed in on where his thumb disappeared into your mouth. “Too bad you’re good for just anyone.”

Jeonghan removed his thumb from your mouth. Horridly, you followed, mouth still open to take it back in. He gripped your jaw, holding you in place. “Ah-ah, little dove. Sit down on the edge of the bed for me.”

He released you. The sudden freedom from his body had you staggering, unbalanced from leaning against Jeonghan. His hands went to your elbows almost immediately, adjusting you to be upright once more. “All good?”

At your nod, Jeonghan was pushing you back onto the bed. You watched as he slid his pants and underwear the rest of the way down his legs, revealing his soft, ivory white thighs and calves. You wanted to reach out and hold them, to press your fingers into his skin and watch as your fingers imprinted on him. 

Instead you sat still, eyeing him. Jeonghan went to the standing mirror in the room, adjusting it. When he tilted it to the bed, realization hit you. “Can you see yourself, Y/n?”

You gulped a little, shifting slightly. “Yeah. I can see.”

“Good.” He stalked back to the bed, eyeing you. “Now stand up.”

You obeyed. Jeonghan sat where you had been previous, leaning back on one hand. “Get in my lap.”

You hesitated. 

Jeonghan immediately turned his sharp eyes on you, narrowing them. “What are you doing? You were so desperate to show off for me earlier when you were with Seungcheol. Are you getting shy for me now? Now after you’ve came on my thigh, after you’ve soaked your panties? Or do you only show off for Seungcheol?”

You shook your head. You went to him, and once you were close enough his hands were on your waist, turning you around. Jeonghan guided you onto his lap, pressing you down so you were trapping his dick underneath your ass. He held you down for a moment, grinding his hips up into you, letting his dick rub against you. 

“What a good little dove,” he hummed, releasing you. Jeonghan reached around you, grabbing your thighs and spreading them. “Hook them on either side of me.”

Slowly, like prey trying not to move too quickly as to alert the predator stalking them from the grass, you spread your thighs. You tucked your feet behind his thighs. The cold air of the room pressed oppressively against your cunt, which had been kept warm by the heat of your arousal, causing you to shiver against Jeonghan. 

“Look at how you glisten,” Jeonghan said, his hands settling on your thighs. “Look in the mirror, sweetheart.”

Helpless, you couldn’t help but drag your eyes to the mirror. You were completely bare, offering yourself to it. You could see where your feet were wrapped around his legs, how his pale hands contrasted against the skin of your thighs. His large dark eyes watching you from over your shoulder, the little smile that he didn’t even try to hide. Your nipples, the way your breast hung, your tongue dragging over your lips. 

Your cunt, bare of any cloth covering it, and the wetness that gushed from it.

“How pretty,” Jeonghan said. 

You turned your face from the mirror, trying to face him. As quick as lightning his hand was on your chin, directing you back towards the mirror. Jeonghan hooked his chin over your shoulder, curling his lip at you, trusting you to be looking at him through the mirror. “Eyes on the mirror, darling. I want you to keep your eyes open and on the mirror at all times. Want you to make sure you know just who’s fucking you tonight.”

“Jeonghan --”

“That’s right,” he cooed, squeezing mouth shut with his hand. “And that’s the only name you ever need to remember.”

Then he released you, his hand smoothing over your skin. You watched his long, elegant fingers, so thin and yet always seemingly so thick when they were buried to the knuckle inside of your cunt, travel down your neck. Your skin pebbled, gooseflesh rising, as his hand traveled. He pressed his hand down over one of your breasts, grabbing it roughly. You watched, transfixed, as he palmed at it, rubbing and kneading. 

“Jeonghan,” you sighed, eyes glancing up and meeting his in the mirror. “Hannie, please.”

His fingers took your nipple, pinching. You let out a little cry, face contorting as he manipulated it, stretching and rubbing and tweaking it. His other hand came to join the first with your other breast, abusing your nipples. 

You wiggled in his grasp, trying to get away from his evil hands. Jeonghan hushed you, moving to still your hip. Your message had worked, however, and his hands traveled from your breasts to over your stomach before they dipped between your thighs. 

It was odd, watching his hands spread open your thighs in the mirror. You could see how his fingers skimmed over the inside of your thighs, stimulating the area and making you shiver. Whenever his fingers neared your cunt you couldn’t help but clench, helpless, yearning for him to just sink them inside of you already. 

Finally, after what seemed to be the hundredth time of him teasing you, you broke. You began turning in his hold, whining. “Jeonghan, please --”

Immediately his hand was on your jaw, pushing you to look back to the mirror. “What did I say, you little slut?” He forced his hand back between your thighs, wedging them open. “Keep your eyes on the mirror. You wanted this, remember.”

With two of his fingers he was spreading the lips of your pussy, showing you off in the mirror. He laughed. “Look at how fucking wet you are. I’ve barely done anything to you. How long have you been like this, little dove? All night? Since the car? Have you been wishing, thirsting for my cock in your tiny cunt? I bet you have. I bet you’ve been wet ever since I kissed you on the curb outside of that house, you little slut.

“In fact,” he said, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. “I bet you’ve been wet since you sat with Seungcheol. I bet you’ve been wet the entire you talked to him, knowing that I was watching you. Knowing that I wanted nothing more than to take you over the side of the couch right in front of Seungcheol and make watch, make him watch as I fuck your cunt until tears pour from your pretty eyes.”

Slowly, tauntingly, Jeonghan’s fingers dipped inside of your pussy. Not enough to do anything other than to gather your wetness but it still had you gasping, arching up into him. 

Jeonghan removed his hand, raising it up to the light. “So wet. I bet you’re soaking the bed right now.”

Jeonghan shifted, bringing his hand to his mouth. You couldn’t help but turn your head and watch as his lips closed around his digits, as his cheeks hollowed out and he drank in your pussy juice. 

He released his fingers from his mouth with a pop, licking his lips as if he had just tasted the nectar of the gods instead of your cunt. “Fuck. I could taste your cunt all day.”

His hand returned to your pussy, fingers tracing over your folds. You spread your legs involuntarily, subconsciously hoping he would take pity on you and shove his fingers in. Jeonghan tilted his head, and you could feel his hair brush against your bare shoulder. “What’s this? Eager, aren’t we?”

You nodded. “Please,” you whispered, eyeing him in the mirror. “Please, Jeonghan.”

He laughed against you, burying his face into your shoulder. Jeonghan pressed a kiss into the skin there, his lips brushing against your skin as you spoke. “Please what, darling? You have to use your words.”

“Your fingers,” you stuttered, canting your hips up. “Please use your fingers on me.”

Jeonghan settled his chin on your shoulder, pouting at you from over your shoulder. “Hm. But you have to say my name.”

Your eyes moved to his hand, zeroing in on the movement. “Jeonghan.”

He tsked, and you both watched and felt as his finger tapped against your cunt. If you had more of a presence of mind you would be ashamed about how eagerly your hips sought out his fingers, about how your cunt gushed fluid and about how desperately you needed him. 

Because you needed him. You needed Jeonghan. You needed his fingers inside of you, needed them arrowing against your core, needed them fucking your pussy. You needed to feel his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, needed him to make you feel full. You needed his mouth on your skin, needed him wrapped around you. 

Before Jeonghan, you never knew what it meant to want. You wanted to eat, wanted a million dollars. But you never knew what it meant to want something carnally, not to this degree, not to where you were willing to do absolutely anything if it meant he would fuck you. 

“Again, sweet one,” he murmured, voice like silk in your ear. He always had a beautiful voice, even when he was telling lies. But somehow Jeonghan’s voice seemed even more enchanting like this, in your ear and whispering dirty commands. “Say my name again.”

“Yoon Jeonghan,” you said, as clear as glass. 

As soon as his name left your lips he was dipping two of his fingers inside of your cunt. A loud gasp left you, your head tilting back against him and eyes fluttering shut. It felt so good. It felt as if this was what you had been missing all your life, as if his two fingers were the oxygen you needed to breathe, as if he could provide the key to Heaven with just his two fucking fingers --

And then he was arubtly pulling them from you, leaving your hole clenching and hungry. You cried out, curling against him, powerless. “Jeonghan!”

“I said,” he began, voice just as smooth as before and yet carrying sternness that had you stilling against him, “to keep your eyes on the mirror.”

 You turned back to face the mirror, chest heaving. You looked pathetic. Your mouth was wide, your legs spread, pussy bared for the whole world to see. 

“Take your eyes off the mirror again and you’ll be left like this,” he warned, the hand on your hip squeezing harshly. “I’m serious. I want your eyes on the mirror until I tell you to take them off. Or are you such a desperate slut that you can’t even do that? Should I call Seungcheol, then? Have him come and fuck you?”

You shook your head, eyes on the mirror like he said. “No. No, Jeonghan, please. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Good,” he said, rubbing your hip. His fingers smoothed over your cunt, petting it. “I don’t want to have to leave you all desperate on the bed, little dove. You know that if you’re suffering, I’m suffering.”

If you had more presence of mind, you’d be scoffing at his words, able to pick apart the apathy in them. But as it was, your mind was intent on one thing. 

“I’ll be good,” you repeated. “I’ll be good, Jeonghan.”

He shot you a smile in the mirror. “See? It isn’t hard, is it?”

Jeonghan’s fingers sunk into you slowly, the drag of them against your walls making your toes curl. You watched, captivated, with how your cunt seemingly devoured his fingers, as they slowly disappeared from your sight in the mirror. 

“God, your cunt really was desperate,” he said, laughing a little. Jeonghan settled his fingers fully inside of you, leaving them there, letting them fill you. “Look at us, Y/n. It’s like we’re meant for each other, don’t you think? Like you were meant to be here, sitting in my lap, my fingers buried to the knuckle in your cunt.

“And can you feel how tightly you grip my fingers?” Jeonghan asked, slowly sliding his fingers from your pussy. Your cunt protested, clenching down on his digits. You couldn’t help but whine, a high thing that pierced through the bedroom. He held his fingers up in front of you, spreading them. Strings of your juices hung from his fingers, dripping down over the ridges of his digits and down his hand, traveling to his arm. He pressed a kiss to your ear. “And look at this, dove. Look at how you’re dripping down my hand. You’re absolutely soaked. I bet I could slide my cock right inside of your cunt.”

You let out a long, shuddering breath. Your hands went to his hips, reaching back and squeezing. Shifting, you relaxed back against him, offering your cunt. “Jeonghan, please.”

He kissed your ear again, murmuring softly. “That’s right, my darling dove. Jeonghan. It’s Jeonghan who makes you this wet, it’s Jeonghan who gets you.”

You watched as he settled his hand against your side, the stickiness of your slick wetting your skin. Jeonghan slowly slid his hand down over your skin, the stimulation causing your skin to pebble and your toes to curl against his calf. You clenched when his hand made it to your groin, watching in the mirror as his long fingers neared your cunt. 

“How needy,” he commented. “What a needy slut.”

Jeonghan dipped his fingers between your pussy lips, taunting. He let them drag against your clit, brush against your hole. He did nothing other than gather your juices, petting your bare cunt. 

“Please,” you whispered, brow furrowing in desperation. You could see how your stomach heaved from you fighting to catch your breath, trying to steady yourself from the onslaught of torture brought on by your boyfriend. Your thighs were shaking, tightening and releasing with every brush of his fingers. 

“Fine,” he sighed, as if he was being burdened. “I guess I’ll give you my hand.”

Then his fingers were shoving inside of you, all at once. You yelled out, arching back against him, fighting to keep your eyes on your trembling figure in the mirror. Your cunt quivered around his fingers, sucking them in deeper. Jeonghan complied, his smile pressed against your neck as he angled his fingers to reach further inside of you, easily finding that spot in you that had you moaning, thighs hurriedly shutting in an attempt to trap his hand. 

“Fuck,” Jeonghan mumbled. Your eyes went to him in the mirror. His eyes were huge and dark, stuck on the spot where his hand disappeared into your cunt. 

He untucked his thumb from his hand, setting it on the lip of your pussy. He swiped his thumb against you for a moment, hooking his fingers into you and striking your core. 

The sounds made by your cunt were so lewd that you, if you, again, had the presence of mind, would be ashamed. 

Then Jeonghan was moving his thumb, wedging it into your cunt and underneath your hood. He shoved it meanly on your clit before launching a hurried attack against it, his fingers slamming that spot inside of you in time with his thumb. 

Within moments you were sobbing, tilting your head back against his shoulder. Your orgasm tore through you suddenly, causing tears to streak from your eyes and more fluid to gush from your cunt. You couldn’t do anything but cry through it, helpless as Jeonghan’s hand continued to work at your pussy, his voice filling your fogged mind with sweet little murmurs of affirmation. 

Your heart was beating so loudly that you could barely hear Jeonghan, feeling as though your heart were about to leap from your chest and sprint off. Looking in the mirror you could see the way your chest heaved in an attempt to breathe, the way your entire body sagged against Jeonghan as his hand continually worked within you. 

Finally you shook your head, whining. “Hannie, Hannie.”

Jeonghan pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, gently, he began withdrawing his hand from your cunt. At first your pussy tightened, but ultimately gave up, releasing him. 

He wiped his hand off on the bed, but even then when he settled his arm across your stomach, pressing you close, you could feel the stickiness on his skin from your cunt. Your release leaked from your cunt, your eyes caught on the mirror as you watched the fluid make its way down your crevice, dripping onto the bed. 

Your eyes flicked up in the mirror, locking on his. Jeonghan gave a small, inquisitive tilt of his head. 

You nodded back. 

Jeonghan pressed another kiss to your face, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. Then he was lifting you up and shoving you off onto the bed beside him, a loud gasp of surprise escaping you. 

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he said, standing up off of the bed. Jeonghan’s hand went to his cock, hissing slightly as he began rubbing at it. “Lay across the width of the bed. Head towards the mirror.”

He rounded the bed as you did as he said, moving slowly, your entire body protesting. Your cunt was fluttering weakly, intrigued by him but so, so sensitive from the two orgasms. 

Jeonghan crawled onto the bed with his knees, looming behind you. He shoved your thighs apart, baring your cunt to him once again. You couldn’t help but bury your face into the blanket, muffling the groan that left you. 

Then there was an acute sting of pain in your ass, and you immediately were clenching up. You raised your head, this time witnessing Jeonghan’s hand descend through the air and slap your ass. 

Pain and heat exploded through you at the contact, and you couldn’t help but weakly curl up in an attempt to move away from him. Jeonghan quickly caught you, both of his hands going to your calves and yanking you flat onto the bed. 

“Where do you think you’re going, little dove?” The nickname, which was always filled with such sweetness and love, seemed to hold none of it. Instead it felt cold, taunting, something used to diminish you. Jeonghan’s hands then went to your hips, lifting them up and off the bed, presenting you for him. “I said to keep your eyes on the mirror, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” you stuttered out, breathless. You watched in the mirror as Jeonghan straightened. One of his hands began kneading at your ass, aggravating the stinging sensation left from his spanking. His other hand disappeared, obscured by your body in the mirror, but you knew he was reaching for his dick. 

“I just need you to hold still like a good little dove,” Jeonghan announced, his eyes looking down between your bodies. “Just need you to be still and let me fuck you like the slut you are, okay? Just be a good tight, warm hole for me.”

You braced your elbows on the bed, getting leverage to help present yourself to him. For a moment you were still, feeling nothing, watching in the mirror as Jeonghan focused on your cunt. 

Then the head of his dick was pressing against your hole, so large and alien compared to the fingers he had prepped you with. You couldn’t help but moan, eyes fighting to stay open. 

Jeonghan slowly breached you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. Your walls stretched around his dick, clenching and fluttering, at odds with how sensitive and overwhelmed your cunt felt from the past two orgasms but how desperate it was to feel his cock. 

“There,” he murmured, smoothing both of his hands over your ass. Jeonghan shifted the last few centimeters, giving you all of his cock. 

You couldn’t help but grind back, a loud sob escaping you. It felt like so much to have him inside. Every single part of your body was honed in on his cock, how it expanded your walls. Your body welcomed the intrusion and fought against it, but in the end you were but Jeonghan’s little dove, caught in his hands. 

Jeonghan moved his grip to your hips, fingernails sinking into your skin. You watched as he moved your hips away, could feel the drag of his cock, which seemed so much more than usual, so much longer and thicker. 

Dumbly you shook your head in protest as he guided his cock out of your cunt. “Hannie, please, please.”

“Quiet,” he commanded, looking at you in the mirror. His black hair was disheveled, his eyes narrowed. You watched as his pale chest heaved with effort to control himself, watched as he brought back his hips. 

Which meant you should’ve been prepared for when he snapped his hips forward, shoving his cock back into the warmth of your cunt. 

But you weren’t. 

You let out a loud shout, falling forward onto the bed. You scrambled against it, trying to straighten yourself and raise back onto your elbows. As soon as you dug your elbows into the bedding, your eyes meeting themselves in the mirror, Jeonghan was withdrawing abruptly from your cunt. 

He set a harsh pace, not allowing your cunt to adjust to his cock further. His fingers dug into your flesh, his cock bullied your core. The loud slaps of his skin hitting yours filled the room, but you could barely hear them over the constant string of moans and sobs that left your throat. 

Your fingers clambered on the sheets, desperate for some kind of grip. Jeonghan refused to let up, the pace burning. You could feel his balls slap against your cunt as he drove into you, his hips jackhammering into you. 

It was frantic, loud, messy. He was a flurry of movement, shoving his cock into you repeatedly. Each thrust filled you to the brim, seemingly reaching all the way to the back of your throat. It was so much, it was so fucking much -- 

“Jeonghan --” You gasped, hips beginning to push back into him. “Feel like -- feel full --”

He said nothing, his face twisted in concentration. Jeonghan’s gasps were quiet, his panting nearly unnoticeable. But you noticed. How could you not? He didn’t light up on his fucking, however out of breath he was, keeping the harsh pace that had your ass already feeling sore. 

“Hannie --” You sobbed, feeling something burning at the corners of your eyes. “Hannie, Hannie, Hannnie --”

Then you felt something gush from your cunt, as if all of your juices had released at once. Immediately you were squealing, falling down flat on the bed. 

Jeonghan cursed loudly, laying down across your back. The change in position had his dick reaching further, had you crying, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and getting in your mouth. 

Then he rammed into your cunt twice more, loud moans pouring from his lips. His released shot into you, the warm fluid squirting deep into your cunt and filling you. Jeonghan came thrice like that, more spurts of cum forcing its way out of his dick and finding home in your warm, abused cunt. 

Jeonghan slumped against your back, one of his hands shooting out to keep your body from falling flat. His chest heaved against you, the arm around you moving down to your cunt. 

“You gotta cum,” he threatened, hand moving to your clit. You sobbed, shaking your head against the blankets. “Yes, you do. You looked away from the mirror, little dove. This is your punishment.”

Your body jumped in his hold as his hand worked your clit, moving sharply and precisely against you. It probably took only a minute to get another orgasm ripping through you, but in your exhausted mind it felt only like a second. 

Then you were collapsing against the bed, his body molding into yours. You panted into the blanket, taking loud, desperate gasps to try and catch your breath. 

Neither of you spoke, fighting to breathe. Jeonghan continued to lay on top of you, his dick still inside of you. When you shifted you could feel his cum ooze from your cunt, and that was enough to get you out of your post-sex haze.

“Jeonghan,” you moaned, reaching back to shove weakly at his hip. Jeonghan groaned into your back. “I’m so wet ‘n sticky. Gotta clean me up.”

“Not my fault,” he mumbled, mouth warm against your skin. “You’re the one that squirted all over me.”

You froze, body clenching, including your cunt. A twinge of discomfort and pain shot through you at this, and you ignored Jeonghan’s little groans of disapproval as you shoved him off of you. 

His dick flopped out of your cunt easily, his cum leaking freely from your hole and mixing with your own release. You slowly, tentatively, reached back to feel the mixture. 

“This is disgusting,” you mumbled, pouting. 

“It’s wonderful,” Jeonghan laughed, his lips pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh. “Can’t believe you squirted.”

“Didn’t know I could,” you returned, brow furrowed. You moved to roll onto your stomach but immediately got met with a sharp pain that shot through you, your muscles protesting. 

Jeonghan’s hands went to your body, stilling you. “Don’t move. You’ll be sore after all that, little dove. I’ll get a wet cloth and be right back.”

You nodded, flopping back down on the bed. You felt the bed shift as Jeonghan got off, the man stumbling a little. You waited for him to round the bed, to make for the bathroom. When he didn’t you shifted, looking over your shoulder.

Jeonghan was staring at your cunt, eyes intent on the spot. 

“Yoon Jeonghan!” You shrieked, kicking out. He laughed, startled from his staring. “Stop that!”

“Can’t help it,” he said, the evil little giggles escaping from his mouth so at odds with the filth that had left him twenty minutes before. “You look so good covered in my cum, sweetheart.”

“Take a picture,” you muttered, sending him a pout. “It’ll last longer.”

Jeonghan looked at you, eyes wide. “Can I? Please? I’ll lock it away and won’t let anyone ever look at it.”

You groaned, turning and pressing your face into the blanket. It was soaked from the combination of your tears and drool. “Fine. But you have to send it to me.”

Jeonghan scrambled around the bed, practically sprinting to get to his jacket. He nearly ripped it from the chair it hung on, hurriedly grabbing his phone. 

You hummed, tapping your foot against the bed as Jeonghan returned. One of his hands went to your thigh, spreading them back out and revealing your thoroughly fucked cunt. You heard his camera shutter go off. 

Then his hand was moving to your cunt. You let out a loud noise from overstimulation as he peeled apart your pussy lips, getting a better shot of the mixture. 

“There,” he said, satisfied. “Absolutely perfect.”

He pressed a kiss to your ass before moving back off the bed. You watched as your boyfriend left the room, admiring the pictures. Your eyes couldn’t help but travel down to his ass, watching it flex as he walked away. 

Jeonghan returned a minute later, a wash rag in one hand. He threw his phone onto the bed, moving back down your body. Gently, as to not further abuse your sore cunt, Jeonghan began cleaning. He carefully spooned his cum from your hole, ran the rag over your cunt. 

The action, no matter how gentle he meant it to be, had your toes curling and your body attempting to wiggle away in protest. Jeonghan hushed you, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your hip. “I’m sorry, baby. But we can’t have you laying in cum all night.”

“I know,” you whined. “Hurts though. I’m sore.”

Jeonghan whined back, and you could see him mimicking your pout from the mirror. “I know. Poor darling, so thoroughly fucked by her boyfriend”

Realization shot through you at his words, quickly followed by mortification. You let out a little cry, digging your head into the blanket. Jeonghan, horrified that he had accidentally hurt you, immediately launched himself down the length of the bed. His hands went to your shoulders, tugging you, chanting your name.

You let Jeonghan move you, eyes wide and horrified. Jeonghan pressed down on you, hands cradling your cheeks and lips brushing over the spot between your brows.”Y/n! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Should we go to the hospital? Do I need to call your mom?”

You shook your head, your hands reaching up to still his face. “Jeonghan,” you began, voice high with hysteria, “how are we ever supposed to face Seungcheol after this?”

#svthub #my writing #svt #svt fic #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #svt x reader #svt oneshot #svt smut #seventeen fic #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan fic #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan oneshot

[amourcheol]

paris

❝You and Jeonghan, jazz-filled corners, hidden history, and the city of love.❞

old hollywood! au | exes to lovers! au | angst, fluff, smut | 50k words

s u m m a r y : disgraced by hollywood for the last time, you, a once superstar-turned-alcoholic, escape to the city of love to seek sanctuary from the ruthless tabloids. your sanctuary comes in the form of film noir superstar yoon jeonghan, the enigmatic man who taught you the art of acting, lust and love before your fame. when he asks to meet you once, just like old times, you cannot refuse. what is meant to be a simple date turns into a path of passion, pain and everything that comes with fooling around with your ex in the jazz-filled corners of paris. 

c o n t e n t s : actor! mc, actor! jeonghan, mc is bitter and makes bad decisions, agent! seungkwan who is tired of fixing them, jeonghan is the suavest, sultriest mf, mentions of parisian landmarks in this fic during the golden hollywood era, also a bit of french peppered throughout, greek mythology art references, tons of fluff which is also layered with angst, quite hurt-comfort mature warnings -> alcohol consumption and abuse, smoking, this is basically sexual tension with plot, making out, oral sex (f. receiving) unprotected sex (refer point to bad decisions), multiple orgasms, jeonghan worships mc fr, praises galore, slightly angsty love-making, basically this is going to be an emotional rollercoaster 

p l a y l i s t : here!

t a g l i s t : at the bottom of the fic

a u t h o r ’ s  n o t e : she is here...finally...longer author’s note at the bottom of the fic but RIP to y’alls tumblr on mobile </3 thank you for reading and thank you ysl jeonghan you will always be the most iconic mf on the planet !! anyways enjoy <33

THE LOS ANGELES MIRROR, 28TH SEPTEMBER, 1954

_____ SEEN FOR THE FIRST TIME AFTER FOX SCANDAL AT LAX!

Scandalised Princess of Hollywood was finally spotted after a week, hurrying into Los Angeles International Airport in the early hours of the morning!

The last time we reported on her was to announce Fox Productions terminating her contract after having a vicious altercation with her movie director and producer. As if showing up on set drunk and high out of your mind is not enough, but lashing your tongue out at the big boys? Our Princess has exceeded too many limits within her Kingdom, and is now running away like a traitor! 

We bring exclusive photos of her interacting with our reporters just before airport security stopped us—though, judging by the expression on her face, and the message on her hand, she may not be too pleased to see us…

We wonder, readers, where she plans to run away. Some sources say that she may look for sanctuary in New York, but there is a likelihood that she may be crossing the Atlantic! Our colleagues in London and Paris anticipate her arrival, but who knows? Maybe our disgraced actress has places even the most shrewd of our reporters cannot find.

Worry not, though, readers! We will bring more news should she be brave enough to show herself in public again!

In the meantime, read on to see which famous superstar has just landed in Paris for his world-class premier…!

YOU ALWAYS WONDERED WHETHER ONE COULD SLEEP FOREVER.

Not die—death was too serious. Death meant going somewhere else, confronting your entire life within seconds. Death was excruciating, death was isolation, death was the end.

But sleep? Sleep could be forever, but it was temporary. You knew that if you slept, you would always wake up. No matter what happened to you the night before, your eyes would open to the morning light breaking through your curtained-windows. 

This time, you wished you did not see such light.

The morning sunshine glared through the heavy lids of your eyes, using all its strength to try and snap open your eyes. You remained stubborn, turning away from the window. Your fingertips lazily held a curved glass, not quite sure what it contained.

Red wine. From last night.

Red wine, which had no doubt stained your bedsheets. 

You let out a low, sluggish curse, holding onto your dirty champagne glass. Yes, sleep could be forever, and it was precisely that fact which made you wish you were slumbering once more.

However, exterior forces always found a way to sneak past your already weak defences. 

Exterior forces like the beginning of the new day, refusing to let you stay in the refuge of the night. Exterior factors like the damning thoughts of your mind, reminding you of how disastrously you could have messed up the night before.

Exterior forces like a jug-full of ice cold water thrown at your face. 

The moment the water hit your face you let out a shocked screech, flinching all over as you snapped open your eyes. A high-pitched fuck! flew from your mouth as you sat up, creasing at the soreness of your muscles, still reeling from the few-hours sleep you managed to salvage. The moment you gained consciousness the worst possible headache tormented you, and you had to hold your head in your hands, groaning at the cold tingling your skin. Of course, your hangover would come crashing now, numbing your brain.

“Be thankful I did not fill up the entire jug,” was the icy snarl you were greeted with.

You groaned at the voice, slowly turning your head to face the man who was hell-bent on murdering you. “One day, Seungkwan,” you rasped out, coughing immediately afterwards, “Someone is going to punch you in the face, and I will watch and laugh at you.” 

He towered over your crumbling figure as he stood at the edge of your bed. “Why stop at punching me? I wish someone would put a gun to my head and blast my brains out!” He brought his hands to his hips, holding a folded newspaper. “At least then I won’t have to witness your daily screw-ups!”

“What are you talking about?” you mumbled, blinking back to clear your hazy vision. When you craned your head back, your agent’s glare had you recoiling. “God, don’t do that to your face…not a good look on you.”

The glare soured even more. “Be angry? Go to Hell, ______! I have every right to be angry at you!” 

“What have I done this time?”

“Only gone and left this goddamn room, drunk enough to be jailed for indecency!” He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if reliving a rather painful memory. “One of the receptionists off duty brought you back here and reported it to me! 

“Oh…I see.”

“That is it? Just an I see? My God, I should be paid more for this!” He pointed to the entrance. “You know the receptionist was about to report you for indecent behaviour! I had to shut her up with a couple hundred dollars! Do you know how much that is in francs?” 

You were about to guess a wildly wrong answer. 

“That was a rhetorical question!” He crowed. “I doubt you would have known the answer anyway, seeing as you enjoy spending these francs more than taking them into account!”

“Whatever,” you muttered, raising your knees so you could hug your legs. “What is done is done.”

“Don’t whatever me,” he snapped, slapping the newspaper he held down on the bedside table. “You do nothing but get drunk—” A pointed finger towards the empty glass— “Waste yourself away in your room, and when you somehow have the will to try and do your job, you always do something to screw it up! You need to just—ugh!” He stopped himself, looking away as he swept a hand through his hair, blazer rising. 

You knew he wanted to go on—you knew he was stopping himself, if only to save the scraps of dignity that still resided within you. You looked at the empty bottles scattered in your room, along with the tabloids, pages open to the columns which wrote about you from weeks ago.

“Did you get an answer for the chemistry read?” 

Seungkwan seemed to have an infinite amount of glowers in his arsenal. “Do not get me started on your fucking chemistry read.”

Your confusion had him breathing through his nose. “They said to me, and I quote, ‘Don’t ever let her inside the audition house again’.”

You had the nerve to chuckle. 

“Laugh at your failure one more time, and I’ll throw water at you again.”

That killed off any amusement.

Your dear agent, and apparent dearer friend sighed. “Get your act together, _____,” he said, crossing your arms as he turned on his heel, navigating through the rubbish you had compiled in your room. “Goodness sake, _____, this is a five star hotel! Could you treat it as such?! If those damned reporters saw the state of your room…” he shuddered. “The poor housekeeping staff…”

“Don’t you start judging me,” you sneered. “I have enough of it from the press.”

Seungkwan pursed his lips. “You are fortunate that the press have not seen you once here. God forbid some late-night reporter saw you stumbling in the Ritz halls instead…they would have eaten you alive.”

You furrowed your brows. 

The two of you knew that the media would have released something horrendous about you, regardless of whether you were drunk and disorderly, or sober and charismatic. You were not fortunate to have avoided them—you were skillful. You would have died than catch yourself in front of the cameras in this city.

Even if you nearly caused a blunder yesterday.

“Whatever,” Seungkwan began, glancing at his watch.

“Oh, so you can say ‘whatever’ to me, but I am not allowed?”

A scathing look. 

“I can, dear _____, because I do not have consequences to bear, since I do not commit such stupid actions. You are wasting away in a five-star hotel you cannot afford, you are butchering auditions you need to resume your career, and you are drinking and rotting in your room when you should be finding a way to climb out of this scandal!” 

When he saw your stunned expression, he let out a harsh breath. “Or maybe you can throw me a goddamn bone, and actually try to help yourself! God knows I am trying to get you out of the mess you have created.” 

Well—suppose he could not stop himself.

The silence that followed his declarations had you shifting uncomfortably on your bed. When you continued to avert his gaze, he shook his head, realising that you will not do a thing about your problems. 

You hated when he did that—as if you were solely responsible for your downfall.

“Right.” He dusted at his blazer, looking to the door. “I have a few calls to make before I go to the Louvre this evening.”

That had your brow raising. “The Louvre? That is a bit random, no?”

“Well, if you have dragged me to this god-awful city, then I suppose I better explore it.” When you opened your mouth, he cut you off, “And no, you cannot come with me.” He raised his finger to quieten you once again. “No, no! I refuse to have a dozen reporters following after me every time I look at an old stone.”

You gaped at him in disbelief. “So you’re just…leaving me here?!”

His saccharine smile hit a nerve. “You and I both know I am not leaving you here…you seem to stay here just fine on your own!”

You scowled. “I hope the press catches you in the Louvre.”

“I will be sure to send them your way, then!”

He earned a harsh groan from you, gesturing towards the entrance. “Get out, Seungkwan!” 

“With pleasure,” he simpered, making his way to the door. “Do not forget the readings for next week!” 

“Whatever!”

His eyes never left yours, souring with your reply as he twisted the doorknob, opening the entrance. “Whatever to you too!” 

And he was out of the door before you could curse him outright. 

When you were sure he would not bother you again, you quickly grabbed the half-empty bottle of wine, unscrewing the cap. 

With no regrets you indulged in the alcohol, hoping it would soothe your hangover even if you knew acutely well that it never did.

So what if Seungkwan did not wish to enjoy the museum with you? To Hell with him—you can admire the art quite perfectly by yourself. 

But to go outside…

That was the one great difficulty.

You sneaked a glance at the window, grimacing at the sun brightly shining on its Parisian subjects. 

Your agent was right—you were fortunate to avoid the press this far.

The last time they caught you was in LA, and once again, there was something positive at play when they could not figure out the destination of your flight. It had been more than a couple of weeks staying in the Ritz, and still, you had managed to evade them at every corner in the central parts of the city. Though you would never admit this to him, staying at the five-star hotel was not the smartest decision, with its luxury and grandeur and horrendous fees, but you could not help yourself—you needed to feel like a famous actress.

You needed to feel like a star once more.

Of course, those days were becoming more like distant memories. 

Seething, you finished your bottle, slapping it atop the bedside table.

Heaving from your bed, you trudged to your window, swiping the curtains to a close. 

Because of your actions, you could not go outside in the daytime. Yes, you may be safe now, but that wish to roam freely under the sun without the prying eyes of others—it was impossible. If the journalists ever caught you in Paris, you knew that you would not be able to garner the raging, resentful attitude you had back home. This time, you would crumble under the camera flashes, the constant shouting, and be forever the actress that was blacklisted by one of the biggest production companies in Hollywood.

You could have forgiven the press for ruining Los Angeles for you.

You could never excuse them for trying to ruin Paris.

So, with your eyes heavy-lidded and your heart incredibly bitter, you thundered to a certain spot under your bed, bringing out another bottle of wine. 

With your prospects at an all-time low, you unscrewed the cap and continued your journey to intoxication.

THE LOUVRE WAS ALWAYS MORE BEAUTIFUL IN THE NIGHT.

You had never noticed it before, but with half the lights dimmed, no sneaking eyes to prey on your every move—the vast museum had become a safe-haven to your sluggish movements.

Perhaps the guards should have noticed a drunk, failing actress and stopped her in her routes, but none batted an eye as you sauntered in from one of the less popular entrances. Of course, you feigned your best nonchalant, sober appearance, and it seemed to have worked a charm. 

At least your acting talents had not vanished with your fame.

You were hit with the vast collections at the very beginning, artworks and objects from all corners of the world. With every step there was another artifact—broken stone aged from the 2nd century BC, a medieval portrait of some foreign king, carpets embroidered in the age of the Ottomans. 

You did not care for these specific wonders.

No, you walked on, a slight determination in your step as you walked past the earlier Egyptian wonders, the Greek and Roman antiquities as you turned a right, finding yourself in the more modern sections. Even so, paintings had never fascinated you as much as other mediums. Paintings, you found, could be celebrated regardless of the amount of work one applied onto the image. Whether it was Renaissance masterwork, or simple rebellious lines of paint over an empty canvas, both could be deemed masterpieces.

What was undisputed, though, was the sheer talent of the sculptors.

Your eyes gazed over the vast, open room. 

Ah!

The marble columns were in their dozens, etched to the sides of the hall as they arched over onto the ceiling. Underneath them scattered an abundance of white sculptures—scenes from mythology, depictions of Roman generals or early modern emperors were settled together, as if they were all linked by the marble from which they were birthed. 

You could not help taking the hasty steps forward, admiring the citizens of marble. You admitted that you did not like art much, but these people before you were something else entirely. They were full of life, given the breath of the human soul, yet were completely lifeless. They looked exactly like you, had limbs like yours, exposed happiness, grief, anger identical to you, but they were frozen, as if paused in their ministrations.

They were the only bodies that could not judge you. 

Closing up on a closer sculpture, admiring the physique of the Greek god, your sight further wandered, trying to find a particular piece that you used to admire many years ago. You distinctly remembered the piece depicting gods too, male and female—you could not recall their names, but the first time you had witnessed such a work, you had been completely shaken. You bit your lip, trying to recollect its location.

You knew it had to be in this room. 

The specific sculpture, which you had seen in the very height of your fame—the very centre of your happiness. 

Steps quickening a little, you focused on each carved figure—no, no, no, you repeated in your mind, the memories stagnant. However, you were certain that the piece had been here the last time you had entered the museum.

The man who was with you that time made sure you witnessed such a sculpture. 

A smile as ghost-like as the memory etched onto your lips. 

Your gaze scoured the room, catching the far-right corner, right next to the hall entrance.

There. 

The sculpture was supposed to be there.

But the work of art was not present.

No—instead of two lifeless figures, there was a living being standing in its place.

You blinked.

The figure’s back was to you—clad in black, your stare struggling to distinguish the details. Fully silhouetted from you, you decided to take a step forward, your heeled-boots making much too loud a noise.

The phantom turned around.

You felt the world sway beneath you.

That was a face you could recognise in any corner of the world—forget the old walls of this gallery. 

It was the man of your memories.

Memories of a long time ago, too long ago, when you were young and wild and free and alive. Your hallucinations had outdone themselves this time, with the way they portrayed the figure of your past. He looked just as he had done the last time you had stepped in this gallery—half of his midnight hair swept under a beret of the same colour, burgundy trench-coat half buttoned, tied at the front. His face was blurry still, but you could not mistake his dark eyes. 

Dark, intense, mystical eyes that were rooted to you.

Perhaps this was delirium—consequences of the alcohol, repercussions of dreaming up times of your past which did not bring great despair. This man before you, not ten feet from you, was not real. He was simply a figment of your imagination, because a man like that did not exist in the spheres of your existence.

Not anymore. 

Shaking your head, you took a step forward.

The apparition took a step backward.

Ah. You smiled. Staying away from you. As ghosts always do.

With great hesitancy, you continued, walking ever so slowly towards the vision.

The vision, in turn, took the exact amount of steps opposite from you. 

Continuing this strange game, you lead the apparition back into the maze of sculptures. So bizarre, the way he perfectly circled each piece, as if he was aware of every marble-figure that rested in the room. One step forward, one step back—one heel of yours that progressed, one boot of his that receded. 

The longer this went on, the quicker your pace became, the quicker he matched it. It almost became a fool’s errand, swirling around the marble spectators as they watched your fruitless flight with melancholy stares. You scowled as you saw the only moving eyes dancing underneath the limited moonlight.

Your visions of madness were beginning to aggravate you.

Soon, you were back in the place that the fated sculpture was supposed to be, the exit behind you. The vision stood amidst the floods of sculptures, you refusing to accept who was teasing the chase. 

You had had enough. 

With one last look at the dream-like illusion, you turned to exit, run out from the gallery to escape your past. 

It was at that moment that the past caught you. 

“Tired of me again, chérie?”

You stilled. 

The entire room, the world stilled, more frozen than the statues around you.

When you truly comprehended the origins of the voice, you whirled around. All thoughts abandoned you the second you truly saw the apparition.

Good God. That was not some apparition. 

You could barely speak.

“J-Jeonghan?”

Yoon Jeonghan. The most famous actor in the world.

He smiled a little, and everything came crashing back—God, he looked so different, yet the exact same since the last time you had seen him. Granted, he dominated every television screen, every cinema theatre, so you never really escaped his existence, but it had been eons since he graced you with his physical presence. 

What had not changed in the slightest was his undeniable charm; he was as beautiful as he was the last time he was in front of you, more so after all these years. He had grown exquisitely into his features—his cheek bones heightened, his soft, delicate nose, coral lips stretching wider the further you examined him. His eyes—his magical, arched eyes—glimmered in the moonlight which shone through the huge windows. A few of his stray locks freed themselves from his beret, accentuating his tenderness—a feature which never left his face.

For a moment, you saw the twenty year old boy, fresh out of drama school, outside of the audition house.

For a second, you forgot why you were here in the first place.

“Bonjour, _____.”

You did not have the voice to greet him back.

Not when you realised the situation the second he said your name—who you were, why the hell you were in this city in the first place. 

Shit.

You could not do this today.

Suddenly, you wished he was a mere figment of your imagination, because then he would not have to see you in your drunken, disordered state, looking for art that was not there, looking for the past in the present.

But then he began to move.

This very real presence walked closer to you, and you felt your entire body constricting, because Yoon Jeonghan was in front of you. The greatest star in the world was approaching you, the man of your distant memories was coming too close.

“Wait,” he then said, and your throat was closing up, you were blinking rapidly, chest growing heavy, and you needed him to get away. He came closer, and you knew then and there you were going to die on the cold floor of the Louvre, marble eyes on you—

And then your own gaze was glistening, and when he noticed it became harder to contain yourself. “_____, are you all right?”

“Yes!” you got out, but then you proved yourself wrong when a few tears slipped out, staining your cheeks.

The man wasted no time, closing the last space between the two of you as he reached out. Instantly, you repelled from his touch, almost flinching from his surprise. “No!” you rasped out, bringing out your own hands to create distance, taking a step back. “No, you don’t need to do that…I’m fine.” 

You breathed sharply through your nose. “I am fine.”

Hastily you turned to the empty space where he last was, before you followed him like a madwoman around the hall. He watched you, your back almost to him. “What…what are you…” you paused, trying to normalise your shaking voice. “What are you doing here?”

You could feel his inquisitive stare upon you. “I could ask you the same thing.”

That question was not being answered. “I asked you first.”

Because you could not see him, you were not aware of his reaction. Still, it was enough for him to answer, “Well, in the Louvre, or in Paris?”

You gritted your teeth at that. “I think everyone knows why you’re in Paris at the moment.”

“Do they, now?”

You could not help it.

Casting a momentary glance at him, you were taken aback to find his gaze upon you. “Are you aware, at least?” he asked you.

Despite his simple questions, your impending headache, you had to clamp down on your remarks. “Of course I’m aware,” you muttered. “The papers are all over the press tours you’ve been doing.”

A perfectly groomed brow arched at your comment. “I’m surprised you follow the papers at the moment.” 

You knew exactly what he meant. “One must keep check of the stories they gossip about,” you only said, focusing back on the empty space. “Those journalists cannot be trusted.”

“Hmm…” you heard shuffling amongst his clothes—no doubt crossing his arms. “I have read the stories.”

A scoff. “I suppose you believe them, don’t you?”

He noted the cruelty in your response. The actor did not take it to heart.

“I have always believed in the stories you told me, chérie.”

This time, curiosity controlled your movement.

Curiosity had you turning back, forcing you to observe his expression, catch his lie. 

But you found no deception.

No, there was only sincerity—pure as the moonlight shining on the two of you.

Chérie.

The last time someone had called you such a sweet name was a lifetime ago.

How ironic, that it was the same man beside you who had bestowed you this very endearment.

A shuddered breath left you. 

You could not do this now.

You were going to say as much when Jeonghan interrupted you.

“Were you looking for something in here?”

Your furrowed brows had him humming. “I thought as much.” Gently, he jerked his head beyond your figure. “Strangely enough, I was looking for it as well.”

Confused, you glanced back at the empty space, where that certain, mysterious sculpture was supposed to be. “That is why I came to the Louvre,” you heard him say.

There was still suspicion laced in your features. “How do you know that we are thinking of the same piece?”

That ghost of a smile crept up again. “You act as if you don’t remember.”

Your sigh was sheepish. “I do,” you said, reminiscing on the memories. “But the name…”

No matter how hard you endeavoured, your memory of the sculpture, and its identity, was too hazy for your half-drunk mind. 

You searched him for an answer. “I’m sure you have not forgotten.”

“No…I have not.”

You waited. His silence had you insisting, “Well?”

When you saw a slight glimmer in his whimsical gaze, you knew that he had something else in mind. The implications had you biting your lower lip, anxiety blooming.

The nerves grew when Jeonghan spoke.

“I will tell you if you see me tomorrow.”

You blinked back.

“There’s an exhibition opening here tomorrow afternoon,” he continued, taking a step towards you, careful not to startle you again. “It’s centred on the sculpture we both wanted to see, but it’s been moved to another hall.”

He confused you a great amount. “How do you know that?”

His stare went beyond you, to the wall. “It says on the plaque.”

Sure enough—when you looked back, there was the notice. Because your French was adequate at best, you did not understand it fully. You simply had to trust his linguistic abilities.

That you could do—you were aware of Jeonghan’s fluency in the language of love. 

He cocked his head, a few strays cascading the side of his face. “You and I could see it there.”

The offer had shaken you. “Why?”

“Why?”

You knitted your brows suspiciously. “Why do you want to go with me?”

The film noir star watched you then, you shuffling uncomfortably under his scrutiny. God, you forgot how intense his eyes were—in fairness, you had not been the subject of his stares for a few years. 

He locked his gloved hands behind his back. “Because you need a break, _____. From everything.”

He offered you a smile. “Let me be the one to give you that. If only for the day.”

You could have crumbled before him.

It was at this stage you cursed yourself for being in such a state. Perhaps if you were sober, you would have carried on this conversation in a more respectable manner, taken more caution.

It was incredibly difficult, composing yourself around the man.

“I can’t…” you inhaled sharply, trying to form the words. “I cannot do midday…too many people, you know…staring, judging…”

“Ah.” He nodded, parting his mouth in thought. “Then tomorrow night?”

Stretching your mouth, unsure, he assured, “They will not follow you here at this hour.”

“How are you so sure of that?”

This time, he sighed, surprised at your anxiousness. “I see you’ve not changed, then.”

You narrowed your gaze. “What is that supposed to mean?”

But the actor did not seem like he was going to elaborate. 

He instead took another step towards you, a mere two feet left. 

“Do you trust me?”

You tilted your head back. 

What kind of question was that?

Do you trust me?

You did not trust anyone. Not after this whole debacle back home, when almost all your friends within the industry had contributed to your downfall. Hollywood was filled with traitors, the worst being the people who haunted the journey of your disgrace at every moment.

It was impossible to place any ounce of faith in another.

As you watched his eyes settle on you, you noticed an emotion you had not witnessed in forever.

Tenderness.

Tenderness with no ulterior motive—gentle acceptance, as if he recognised your position. As if he recognised your change, the apprehensive nature of your questions, your pauses. It physically hurt being stained with such compassion, when you had been begging for it from the world all those weeks ago.

It hurt, having someone who understood you.

You, however, should not have been surprised.

Yoon Jeonghan had always been like this. Especially when you both were together.

You could have smiled. 

What a time that was.

As if he could read your mind, the film noir star began, “You remember, don’t you? That I’ve never let you down?”

You decided to let yourself slip—you could always blame it on the alcohol. 

“What time do you want me here tomorrow?”

His eyes widened slightly—relief. “This hour. They will not follow us here.”

Nodding hesitantly, you then realised just what hour it was, and inwardly cursed. Seungkwan was going to murder you.

“I…I need to be getting back,” you said, gaze falling to the entrance. “It’s quite late.”

He followed your trail of sight. “Let me walk you to your hotel,” he offered. “I can’t have you stumbling around in Paris at this hour.”

Forever the gentleman. “It’s only a fifteen minute walk from here.”

“All the easier to walk with you, no?”

You averted his stare. “Hmm.”

There was a growing feeling that he was still looking at you. 

His voice morphed a little amusement when he said, “Should we start walking, are you going to spend the night avoiding my gaze?”

Cheeks heating, you gestured to the stairs, deigning only a second-glance. “I’m not…” you trailed off, finding it difficult to lie to him. “Let’s go.”

His eyes followed the stairs. “After you.”

Obliging, your heels conquered the low, marble stairs, his phantom presence right behind you. You took the same route, this time reversed as you tried to exit the museum, the actor pointing out a few works you had missed on the journey to the sculpture hall.

Once you both were out of the gallery, the cool Parisian air kissed your face in greeting. The city had been cloaked by the night, the moon bathing the sanded-stone streets grey, a myriad of stars twinkling in welcome. A heavy sigh fell from your lips, taking in the mellow atmosphere of the coming autumn. 

“Never before…has someone been more…”

Cars could be heard in the distance, a sweet forties’ song tuning in from the neighbouring streets. The noise of the citizens grew louder as you both left the borders of the Louvre Palace, walking along the road. 

“Unforgettable…in every way…”

Jeonghan’s hands went to the top of his trench-coat, lifting up the lapels. Consequently, the sides of his face were hidden from view, effective enough for far-away onlookers to avoid guessing his identity. You, on the other hand, forgot your face mask, but a bitter feeling inside you knew that you did not need it.

Compared to the man beside you, you were nothing.

You hated how envious you had become.

“Why the frown?”

Perking up at his question, you shrugged, not wishing to elaborate over your unreasonable emotions. “Nothing. Simply tired.”

Fixing his beret, he asked, “Oh? Are you working on something?”

You shook your head, quirking your mouth to the side. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” A hint of sarcasm slipped into your response, without control. “One can’t find much work when one is scandalised from the industry.”

“One won’t be able to find work, dear _____,” he countered, “If one is hiding from the industry.”

“One is not hiding,” you griped. “One is…thinking. Figuring out one’s situation.”

A lingering, incredulous look. “One needs to travel across an entire continent to think?”

This time, you returned it—surprised him with your misery. “When one’s situation is this bleak, even travelling across continents is not enough.”

Jeonghan’s melancholic frown had you looking ahead. “Whatever,” you said, “At least Seungkwan has not given up on me.”

The name had the actor almost lighting up. “Seungkwan? He’s here with you?”

“I dragged him with me when I left LA.” You huffed out a chuckle. “Poor bastard has been finding auditions for me in every corner of this place. I don’t think he realises that no one actually wants me amidst…all this.”

Turning into another slimmer road, your company slowed his stride. “You will climb up from this. Every actor in Hollywood has had a scandal, some worse than yours!”

“It’s been weeks, Jeonghan!” you exclaimed, growing restless. Noticing a few heads rise from your slight outburst, you tried to sober your speech. “I just…I don’t think I can come back from this.”

His tone softened, a mere muttering. “You cannot give up hope.”

You did not deign him a glance. “There is no more hope to give up.”

The actor was silenced by your declaration.

The two of you did not say much more, walking on the roads until you reached your hotel, marked by the tall, bronze column, a statue of famed, Corsican general at the very top. 

When Jeonghan regarded the sheer luxury of your residence, he quirked a groomed brow. “For someone with no job, you sure are living like a blockbuster actress.”

Your sour glare his way had him laughing softly. “I still have funds from my earliest hits,” you crowed. “And why shouldn’t I live like a star?”

“I wonder how Seungkwan feels about your opinion,” he pondered, greatly entertained. “Last time I remember he promised to fix your spendthrift habits.”

Crossing your arms, you strolled closer to the hotel. “He’s not kept his word, then. I am a pauper living like a princess.”

He followed your trail. “That’s because you were a princess once.” His hands slid in his pockets. “Ruling over cinema.”

The grand doors of the Ritz were right in front of you. “And now the king of film wishes to associate with his disgraced subject.”

But this king, face half-hidden from the crowd, only observed you in the lamplights. “No, it is…simply two people from the past, catching each other in the present.”

You shuddered out an exhale. 

It was not as if he was wrong.

Jeonghan was a figure of the past—since your publicised breakup with him, the two of you had never really spoken, an offence you supposed you could not rest at his door. You had seen him everywhere in your time in LA, but you knew he had been erased from your future. 

You never thought you would see him in that gallery room.

Even now, blinking back your booze-induced drowsiness, you wondered if he truly was in the present—here, before you, in all his fantastical, otherworldly glory. He stood, trying to read you like a new screenplay, uncovering the plot, the conflicts of your person, and you wondered whether he would succeed. 

He had always been so wonderfully perceptive. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said to him.

The stare was prevalent when he asked, “Like what?”

When you started pursing your mouth at him, he huffed mirthfully through his nose. “Fine.”

“I am all right, you know,” you muttered. “Always was, always will be.”

“Will you be?”

You did not answer his question.

Of course you will not be all right—but he did not need to know this.

“Goodnight, Jeonghan.”

Turning your back to him, you made to enter the hotel.

“It was good to see you.”

His voice paused your movement. 

“You know…after so long.”

A look over your shoulder—you watched him in his long-hair, bereted, midnight glory. His lapels had drooped, exposing his face much more, but he did not seem to care so much—not as much as you would have, in his place. 

When you deigned him a response, you blamed the remaining alcohol in your system for such candid honesty.

“It was good to see you too.”

With that, you turned, a haste in your step as you slipped inside the hotel.

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 30TH SEPTEMBER, 1954

WORLD STAR YOON JEONGHAN SPOTTED ENTERING THE LOUVRE NEAR MIDNIGHT!

Our favourite actor was seen going inside our landmark museum in the late hours of the night, unaccompanied and hidden. It has only been a week since he has arrived in the city, and although he is here for his movie’s promotion, he clearly sees Paris as more than just a stop in a press tour! 

Our readers must be aware of Jeonghan being an avid art enthusiast. Many a time he has expressed his admiration for the classical masters, as well as the contemporary scene that is growing popular in major cities in Europe. Maybe, once the film is released, he will stay longer with us, and indulge in Parisian culture.

Until then, enjoy the pictures of our star, smiling at the cameras!

YOU WERE STILL UNSURE WHETHER YOU HAD TRULY MET JEONGHAN.

The trek back to your room had been occupied with your thoughts, debating whether you had truly encountered a man of that influence, merely sauntering in a gallery. Of course, you were aware that you had not crossed the point of pure delusion, but you had hallucinated in the past while intoxicated.

You had even woken up in a daze, undisturbed by Seungkwan’s usual calls to trudge into audition houses. This time, it seemed as if he left you alone, which was incredibly fortunate, seeing as you had plans for today.

You considered mentioning your strange, unexpected meeting to him, but then you held back, resorting to pacing in your room. You doubted whether he would believe it, seeing his exasperation with your recent behaviour.

If you told your agent that you were somehow meeting a renowned ex-boyfriend, whose very presence beside you would ruin his reputation and revive yours, then he would have truly had a heart attack. That would not be the most ideal situation, considering he was the very reason you were not completely ruined. 

Satisfied with your decision, you resorted to staying in your hotel room, scouring through the very tabloids that tormented you over information you had not bothered searching for before. Sure enough, it was not difficult finding his name within the texts—if you had columns written about you, then Jeonghan had pages, singing praises of his upcoming film. You hated how bitter you were, seeing his stellar reviews, barely anything negative about his behaviour. You knew that such popularity had to be a double-edged sword, but the man had managed to maintain the perfect balance without harm.

A scowl marred your features. Of course you had to be pricked with the downsides of fame.

Throwing the magazines to the side, you debated ordering a bottle of wine, but then immediately shook your head.

Tonight, you could not be drunk around him. You needed your thoughts to be settled when you saw him again, because you had a feeling that he was very capable of rattling them. Not that you had feelings to evidence this—your ex-lover possessed a rare trait to render you nervous in his presence. 

The rest of the day was spent thinking about the late night encounter, and when night had fallen, you prepared yourself for the next meeting. You settled for soft colours, white button-up shirt and a pink long-skirt, hem caressing your shins. Slipping on your heels, you perched a half-hat upon your hair. Taking hold of a face mask, you slipped it on, hoping it would hide you from the incoming press. 

Satisfied, you took your handbag, leaving the room and locking the door behind you.

Leaving the Ritz, you were relieved to find no one recognising you as you walked out of the entrance, calling a cab on the street. It was only five minutes to the Louvre, so you did not have to wait until you arrived at the destination. Paying the fare, you exited the vehicle, slipping into the museum through its main entrance.

Although you were expecting the grand, ornate hallways of the once-palace-turned-gallery, what you did not prepare yourself for was two guards approaching you. 

Their stern greeting was laced heavily with their accents. “‘Scuse-moi madame, the museum is closed.”

“You cannot be here!”

Instantly, you recoiled from them, irritation spreading as you brought down your mask. “But I came here at the same time yesterday!”

“The museum has closed early today for a private showing,” the other guard explained, reaching out to guide you back out. “We apologise for the inconvenience, but—”

“Who the hell is renting out the Louvre for themselves?” you demanded, waving off the men who tried to escort you out. “All right, all right, I’m leaving, goodness!”

Grumbling, you made to leave, security right behind you to make sure of it.

That was when you heard a familiar, sultry voice.

“Elle est avec moi ce soir.”

The guards turned around, taking you in their direction.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him.

There, just across from you, Jeonghan stood, looking as if he had stolen the night and etched its darkness into his attire. This time, his trench-coat, beret, trousers were all bathed in the black, almost silhouetting against the shadows of the hall. His stretched hand gestured to you as he focused on the men that wished you out.

Then, he glanced at you. “She is with me this evening.”

Security immediately let you go, apologising profusely in French as you dusted at your shirt. You dipped your neck in acceptance, a sheepish expression upon your face because you could not respond to them. Once the actor stepped closer to you, he ordered a few things in his Parisian accent, and you wished then that you had practised the language of a country you were so hell-bent on hiding in.

Security soon returned to their original places, leaving the two of you alone.

You, alone with Jeonghan.

The film noir star regarded you with a peculiar enthusiasm. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t come.”

The first urge was to ask him why, but you supposed he was not unfair for saying such a thing. “I was unsure of whether I dreamt you up or not.”

A slight curl of his lips. “Have I given you certainty now?”

You decided to be honest. “Only a little.”

His mouth curled wider. “Well then…” He raised his hand to the world of art before you. “I have the whole night to convince you.”

You should have returned his smile. 

This time, though, you were sober. 

Apprehensively, you walked up to him. Only then he commenced, leading you into another universe, far away from the press, the people, the world and its restrictions.

The only sound as you both walked were the clicks of your heels, the soft thumps of his boots. You wished he would strike a conversation, ease the nerves that decided to enliven within you. You supposed, though, that releasing you of your anxiety was not the actor’s job. It did not help that Jeonghan had never felt a fraction of your nerves.

Probably. It was only a guess—you did not know this Jeonghan, the man that dominated world cinema.

At least he retained his perceptive behaviour, because a minute later, he said, “You will enjoy the exhibition, _____…very nostalgic.”

“Oh?” You admired the gold arches, the intricate detailing of the ceilings. “How so?”

“You’ll see. I don’t want to spoil anything.”

Not particularly satisfied with his response, you targeted him with another question. “Are we truly the only people here?” When he nodded lightly, as if it was the easiest thing to obtain, you had to gawk. “How did you manage to close off the Louvre?”

He slid his hands in his coat pockets. “I suppose being an actor has its benefits.”

Both taking a left, you countered, “I’m an actor, too, but I would never be granted a private audience here.”

“Let me rephrase,” he said, mouth morphing into a smirk, “Being a famous actor has its benefits.”

A crude scoff escaped your throat, unable to contain itself. “Oh my God!”

Your reaction had the man spluttering into laughter, closing his eyes and dipping his head. That only made you scowl all the more, and when he settled into amusement, he brought his face to yours, slowing his walk. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” he mused, “You know I like to tease you.” His eyes regarded your offence, your features slowly easing. “Or have you forgotten how to have a little fun?”

You waved him off, looking beyond his inquisitive gaze. “I have changed plenty since you last met me.”

“Since yesterday?”

A glare. “You know what I mean.”

The man kept silent, merriment lingering in his features as you both slowed your pacing. Huge banners welcomed you over the grand doorway, reciting the name of the exhibition beyond the hall you stopped in.

Another memory penetrated your mind at the name.

LOVE IS LOST, YET LOVE IS FOUND—DEPICTIONS OF CUPID AND PSYCHE.

“Ah…” Jeonghan walked ahead, reading the title. “We’re here.”

Cupid and Psyche.

You remembered why the subjects were so familiar. 

He looked back at you. “Shall we?”

Your vision stayed on the banners for a moment longer before directing it at him, nodding slowly. “Yes…let’s.”

With an uncertain feeling towards the room before you, and even more uncertain feeling towards the man beside you, you entered the exhibition, expecting nothing.

You were welcomed with everything.

Cupids and Psyches were everywhere in the room, depicted within centuries-old pages and ink, oil upon wood and canvas, carved from ancient marble, bathed in every wall and floor of the room. The winged god and his human lover were unmissable in the works of art dedicated to them, and you glanced at the entry paragraphs, discussing the subjects.

Your amazement had the man beside you chuckling. “Stunning, isn’t it?”

“I…” you could not even finish your words, finding the first glass cabinet, where dozens of drawings of the two lovers were shown. “How did you know about this?”

You felt his presence nearby. “You know I never miss an exhibition in Paris.”

One depiction caught your interest—a quick ink drawing of Cupid holding Psyche in his arms, wings resting behind his shoulders. “Still an avid art enthusiast?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Of course.” You could have sworn you felt his eyes on you. “You may have changed, but I have stayed the same.”

You held in the urge to make a face at him. “Fame changes everyone,” you snarled, “And you have received enough to become a new person.”

A pause. “Do you want me to be different?”

You snuck a glance at him—he was occupied by a large painting, this time a clothed Psyche watching over a slumbering Cupid. As you walked closer, investigating it further, the details became clearer, the god engulfed in pillows and darkness, the only light coming from his lover’s lamp. 

You decided not to answer him. You could not—you had nothing to silence him with.

So you moved on, finding little solace in the artwork around you. “What I want,” you said instead, “Is for you to stop bringing me to these exhibitions. I have never enjoyed them as much as you have.”

Listening to his soft chuckling, you heard him say, “Well, that I wish I had forgotten!” He turned around, casting a glance at you. “But don’t abuse the exhibition just yet.”

“I don’t hate it,” you offered, involving yourself in the sculpture work. There were a couple dozen peppered in the far side of the room, each bearing an inscription, and which part of the mythology it depicts.

You read the first tablet. L’Amour et Psyché. It was the same scene, but this particular Psyche was half-nude, gazing over the sleeping Cupid. The detailing on this sculpture was more precise, more life-like. Leaning closer to inspect the winged creature’s face, the innocence moulded into his features had you fully endeared.

You wondered what their story was.

It was not as if you were unaware of what Cupid represented, but everyone had seen him more as a chubby angel-child, holding his arrows of love, ready to strike up trouble. In fact, you had not known that Cupid, too, had been struck by his own weapon over a mere human.

The train of your thoughts would have kept running in the tracks of your mind had a certain man not stopped it suddenly.

“This isn’t the one you were looking for.”

Perking up, you twisted your head to where Jeonghan was. He tilted his head to the furthest artwork, obscured by his figure. Your confused expression had him beaming.

He stepped away from your line of sight.

The star sculpture of the night was unveiled.

By God. That was the one.

Completely dazed, your feet gravitated towards the work of art, becoming clearer the closer you were pulled to its spell. You could not avert your stare from its allure, drinking in its details. Cupid, with utmost gentleness, held Psyche’s lolling head, as if pulling back from a searing kiss. His saved lover stretched her hands towards his curls, naked body resting on the rocks. His wings were outstretched, flaring back, details of his feathers etched into the off-white marble. 

Your cheeks could have burned at the sight of them.

It was as if you were interrupting them—pushing yourself in a moment that was not open to the rest of the world. You could never comprehend how someone could carve such adoration in stone, but the way they gazed at each other had your heart breaking in a million little pieces.

You could have looked at the two lovers forever.

“Psyche revived by Cupid’s Kiss.”

Snapping out of your daze, you saw the actor step beside you, admiring the work before him. “Exquisite, is it not?”

This time, you could not argue with him. “It truly is.”

His eyes slid to where you stood. “Do you remember when we first saw it?”

Your lips threatened to tug upwards. 

That was a memory you could not forget.

Now that you had seen the sculpture, you could recall the first time you had seen it. Interestingly enough, this very man was with you when you exposed the same awe you had just then, peering at the marble lovers as if you had uncovered a secret revelation in their embrace. You could even remember the faint clicking of his camera as he captured your admiration in that photograph. You wondered whether he kept any pictures of you together on your first trip to this city.

But you did not confess such ramblings to him.

No, you only got out, “I do.”

He was satisfied with your answer. “Do you know their story?” A tick of his head to the subjects. “Of them two?”

You shook your head. “I suppose you’ll enlighten me?”

A glance at you. “Only this once.”

You returned it, turning your back to him. “Go on, then,” you said, making to move. “Educate me.”

When you took your first step around the sculpture, Jeonghan commenced.

“Before Cupid came here, Psyche was stuck in an eternal sleep. She let curiosity take the better of her.”

Another slow stride, you observing the stretch of Cupid’s legs, the perched foot. “What happened to her?”

“She was given a jar, filled with divine beauty by Proserpina—Roman Persephone—to give to Venus. She was warned not to open the contents. Curiosity took over her, though, and she opened the jar, desperate to have some of that famed beauty.” 

He slid his hands in his pocket. “However, there was no divine essence in that jar, but the darkest sleep. It was a sleep no one could escape from.”

Gradually, you inspected the detail of the god’s wings, but you were occupied with the storyteller’s words. “And then?”

“What then? She fell into oblivion. A deep sleep that no one could wake her from.”

Although you were hidden from the mythical bodies, you swore your ex’s stare penetrated through marble. “She was considered unsavable, _____. Doomed forever.”

Your throat constricted, steps faltering. You did not understand why it hurt you so much, knowing it was just a story—hell, her fate was revealed in the sculpture’s title.

Still, you asked him, a speck of fear in your voice, “Then?” 

You heard his footsteps edge closer. “Well…Cupid found her sleeping, and touched the tip of his arrow upon her.” 

Sure enough, you spied the quiver of arrows upon his side, strap slung over his shoulder. “And what did that do?”

His presence was near, so near. “He found that…that his love-tipped arrow healed his beloved.”

When you turned, taking the step into view, you found Jeonghan’s eyes rooted to you. Only the curve of Psyche’s hip, perched on the rock, remained between you two.

When the film noir actor parted his mouth, you held onto his every word.

“He saved her, chérie, from her downfall.”

You hitched your breath, unable to move.

You could not look away from him.

“Did he, now?”

“He did.” And when you gulped, his gaze flickered to the bob of your throat, before imprisoning you with his stare once more. “Because he would have done anything to revive his lover’s soul.”

Oh, God.

His words snatched every atom of oxygen in the hall.

You could not do this sober. You could not do this at all.

“Jeonghan, I—” you backed away a little, feeling your heartbeat fastening with every second. “I must go.”

He sensed your sudden panic. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I just…” you tried to stabilise your breathing. “It’s very late. I should be going back.”

Circling around the sculpture, he removed the obstacle. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded quickly, lungs faltering with each second that passed in his presence. “Yes, I need to just…Seungkwan will be worried.”

Had he not known you for such a long time, he would have questioned you further, freed the real reason out of you.

Tonight, though, he would not pester you.

“All right.”

He ticked his head towards the entrance. “Let’s go.”

The two of you swiftly exited the grand exhibition, the Cupids and Psyches watching you leave—had these statues had even a spark of life, they would have spent it in anticipation, watching the broken couple walk side by side out of the museum.

You dared not speak to him as you left the Louvre, Jeonghan thanking the guards earnestly for their overtime, following after you. Thankfully, the night was still young—the likelihood of any sudden cameras flashing in your face was second to none. 

As you and your companion left the expanse of the Palace, you found a sleek, black Bentley waiting on the large road. Jeonghan hummed out at its recognition, gesturing towards it. “Ah, no need to walk much then.”

Stopping before the luxurious vehicle, you locked your hands behind your back, your gaze upon his face.

His words at the museum came ringing back into your mind.

He saved her, chérie, from her downfall.

Despite the Parisian chill, your face burned. 

“Well…I guess this is it.”

Jeonghan’s face exposed confusion. “Whatever do you mean?”

You raised your brows. “I did say I had to go.”

“No, I know that.” His gaze slid to the car door. “But I assumed I’ll be driving you home.”

In other circumstances, you would have jumped at the chance. Tonight, though, he had spoken some flowery truths, and made your heart uneasy. “No, you don’t have to,” you assured him, looking at your journey back home. “My hotel is only ten minutes away. I wouldn’t mind the walk.”

He then pondered for a moment before making another offer. 

“Take my car.”

You were going to object, but he interrupted, “I know what you’re going to say, but I insist. It’s too late to walk alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” you then insisted. “At least no one would bother me on the way.” You did not know why, but your voice turned sharp. “If you still live in the Passy apartment, then it’s an hour’s walk from here. These journalists will find you at that time.”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I think the both of us know that I never cared about the press…whatever they published about me.”

Right. Of course. “I see,” you could only say back, shuffling on your feet.

“_____.”

You paused. 

He stepped forward—careful, as if you would flinch should he come any closer. “Don’t worry about me and take the car.” 

After a hard sigh, you reached out to the car, grabbing the handle. With a tug the backseat door opened. 

You stepped down from the pavement, about to enter the vehicle when you halted.

Turning around, you parted your mouth.

“I didn’t mean to leave so suddenly,” you began, not quite sure where this was heading. “I just…well, thank you, I guess.”

“Thank you?”

“For the ride…” you furrowed your brows, wishing you had kept your mouth shut. “And well, you know…for tonight.”

And for the story of a love lost—and then a love found.

Jeonghan’s smile was infectious—it struck your mouth to curl upwards too.

“You have a good night, _____.”

The response slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“I already have.”

That earned you an outright grin, his nose crinkling near the top. “Have you?”

But now you were flustered, forcing yourself into the car. His soft laughter made you hug your coat tighter around yourself. “Good night,” you muttered, ready to slam the door shut had he not clutched the outside handle. 

Leaning down, he uncovered his face, lopsided as his beaming had you further embarrassed. “At least say it to my face before you close the door on me.”

Your huff was greatly exaggerated. “Have an amazing, fantastic, unforgettable night, Jeonghan,” you hissed.

His eyes danced a waltz that you remembered, all those years ago.

“I already have.”

And before you could say anything more, he closed the door for you, urging the chauffeur to drive on. 

As the man asked you for your destination, you could only mumble out the Ritz’s location, mind in another universe entirely as the Bentley soared to life.

The further you drove from the enigmatic actor, the more you strained your neck, trying to catch a sight of him through the back glass. Settling back down, you bit your bottom lip, clutching at the sash of your coat.

He saved her, chérie, from her downfall.

Because he would have done anything to revive his lover’s soul.

You gripped the sash tighter.

One thing, at least, you had learned for certain.

Yoon Jeonghan was not of your delusions.

He was very, intensely, frighteningly real.

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 4TH OCTOBER, 1954

SUPERSTAR JEONGHAN’S BIRTHDAY BASH PLANNED IN BIG-TIME LOCATION! ALLEGED NAMES TO BE INVITED…

We wish the happiest birthdays to the world’s sweetheart, Yoon Jeonghan! As our dear star celebrates his happy day in a world of press tours and back-to-back interviews, we have a source which tells us that he will be occupied tonight by his co-stars, who plan to throw him a party that Paris talks about for the rest of the month! Unfortunately, dear readers, the event is kept very hushed, but fear not—we will bring details for all you curious fans!

Do be satisfied with exclusive photos of the actor strolling along the Seine banks at 2 o’ clock in the morning! We wonder where he was coming back from…

PERHAPS RUNNING AWAY FROM THE GREATEST LIVING ACTOR WAS NOT THE SMARTEST DECISION YOU HAD EVER MADE. 

It was not as if you had any other options. His words had struck beyond your skin— caught onto the webs of your soul, and refused to escape, no matter how ardently you tried to wrench them out with your self-reassurances. 

He should not have said anything akin to what he confessed that night, four days ago. You knew he was merely narrating a fairytale, but the look in his eyes as he recited the love story haunted you every night since.

You did not understand whether the unease, settling too comfortably in your veins, was a feeling you would rather live without, or a sensation you had come to enjoy as you pondered over his words. You did not leave your hotel room, mess of clothes and room service food piling up with every passing day. 

Even catching the headline for Jeonghan’s imminent birthday celebrations had you delving deeper into the mind abyss, more so when that day arrived.

Your eyes wandered to the telephone, perched upon the small, circular table by the window. 

Perhaps you should call him. 

A harsh laugh escaped you.

Very funny.

Not that you could call him—his apartment phone number was lost on your ears. 

Nevermind. That possibly idiotic option died before it could be seriously considered. 

A continuous, sharp rapping on your hotel door had you rising briskly from your speculations. 

“Seungkwan,” you muttered. 

Walking over your mess, you reached out to the knob, opening the intricate door.

“It’s a wonder I’m not greeted by your corpse every time I come here.”

“Good morning to you too, asshole,” you chirped back, striding back into your room, waiting for your dear agent to close the door. “And just for a heads-up, I am not auditioning for anything today.”

“See, I knew you would say something like this, so I did not even bother.” He sighed out the world’s air from his lungs, as if shouldering a burden greater than any human has experienced. “I have officially, legally given up on you.”

“Oh really?” you hissed, settling yourself on a chair by the telephone table. “Then why bring your oh so valuable self to my door today, when you have officially, legally given up on me?”

Fingers dipping into his inner waistcoat pocket, Seungkwan fished out a red envelope, cursive black ink on the front. “I received a very ominous letter at my doorstep.” He strode over to where you sat, taking the opposite chair. “It was meant for you.”

You waved off the letter. “You open it,” you said, leaning back in the seat. “It’s probably another tabloid scare. God knows how they could find my hotel room number.”

“Lazy,” the man muttered before ripping open the fold, taking out a sleek card of the same colour, bordered with intricate, black lining. Interest piquing, you watched him read the contents, brows furrowing by the second.

When his eyes went completely round, you straightened, confused. “What is it?”

But he only ticked his head to the side, rereading the writings etched onto the red paper. Tossing the envelope on the table, he was rooted to this letter, brows scrunched so close together they could have become one.

“You’re scaring me,” you began, hand reaching out to take the letter, only to fail when he distanced himself. “What the hell is on there?”

After a moment, he closed his eyes, grinning. “It’s all fine. I think someone is playing a very sly trick on us.”

“What?” You got out, but he was only chuckling, as if he had been caught acting like a fool. “Now you’re just making me angry!”

“Well, let me help reverse that anger, my dear!” He brought the card out to you. “Do have a read and laugh!”

Completely baffled, you took it from him, reading the words which had brought Seungkwan to such a state.

Your own eyes nearly burst from their sockets. 

Dear _____,

You have been cordially invited to celebrate the birthday of Yoon Jeonghan. The celebration is planned to be grand, with the entire Moulin Rouge booked out to perform cabarets, drink champagne and dance away the night.

As this event is private, we ask to be discreet when you arrive, and only bring one other person with you, as only the best of the best are to attend.

We hope to see you tonight, 8 o’ clock onwards. A car will be waiting outside your hotel to bring you to the destination.

Signed,

YOON JEONGHAN.

“Oh…my God.”

Your agent snorted, straightening his waistcoat. “Is that not hilarious?!” he started, folding a leg over the other. “I must say, the press is becoming much too creative to get us out of private circles! Yoon Jeonghan, huh!” 

You kept staring at the letter, feeling your heart rise to your throat as he carried on rambling his disbelief. “This must be another way to torment you, _____, but don’t you worry! I will get to the bottom of whoever did this.”

He turned his head to you. “So what if he was your ex? Way to rip out an old flame from the past! You both haven’t spoken in years.”

That comment could have made you flinch.

When he caught the dread in your face, he halted. “Why do you look like you’re about to hurl your guts up?”

Your smile was more of a grimace. “Well, um…you see…”

“Oh my God.” He gripped onto the arms of his chair. “What the hell have you done?”

“Why are you assuming I have done something?” you demanded, but it left your mouth much weaker than you anticipated.

“Because I have cleaned enough of your messes,” he responded sharply. “Why are you looking so guilty?”

“Well…erm…” It was like you were a criminal, confessing to a dozen murders. “You know when, um, you said that Jeonghan and I…haven’t spoken in years?”

His eyebrows must have been exhausted from all the furrowing they had done in the past ten minutes. “What are you trying to tell me?”

You averted your gaze, instead choosing to engrain it on your unmade bed. 

“I…may or may not have…seen Jeonghan…five days ago…”

Mustering your bravado, you snuck a peek at your agent. 

His poor eyes were as wide as saucers. 

You shrunk back. “Twice.”

Looking away again, you waited in agonising silence for him to take in the ground-breaking piece of information. This was not another failed audition, nor was this the sheer astonishment to find you half-dead from the drinking. This was something he did not think you were capable of experiencing. 

After a good while, you heard him speak.

“Yoon Jeonghan…” A pause. “The Yoon Jeonghan…the biggest actor in Hollywood…”

“…yes?”

Seungkwan spewed out curses so colourful they could have painted the entire hotel. 

Even you had to clamp down on your lips to stop yourself from gasping. When he was done, he dipped his whole body down, putting his head in his hands. Only then, you let yourself observe his possible mental breakdown, hugging your legs to your chest. 

It must have been a good twenty minutes, sitting, watching his dejected position, when he heaved himself up, rubbing his face. Sighing, he finally turned to you, exasperation staining his features. 

“How much have you had to drink in the past week?”

You ticked your head back. “What?” 

“You’ve done this before, _____,” he continued, getting up from his seat. “Delusion! I heard you say such crazy things when you hit the papers then. It’s just the drink getting to you. Fucking Yoon Jeonghan…”

“No, Seungkwan, you have to believe me.” You got up from your own chair. “I met him the day I was passed out, when I was rejected from that side-lead role.” 

“Where would you even meet him?”

You looked to the window, to the city beyond. “The Louvre…?”

It was not as if you were lying—the way you said it, though, had the agent doubting you even more. “You? The Louvre? Now I really don’t believe you.”

“Please!” you insisted, watching him pace about in your room. “I may have said some questionable things before, but I’m telling the truth this time!”

He did not answer you, only sparing you withering glimpses with every turn. At some point, he groaned as he halted in the middle.

“I just cannot understand…” Hanging his head low, he propped his hands to his hips. “I cannot get my head around…”

“What?” you asked, desperation clear in your voice. “What else is there to understand?”

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were narrowed—accusatory.

“Why was Jeonghan wanting to meet you?”

You paused.

Seungkwan fully faced you, then, cocking his head. “After everything that had happened…” 

His voice involuntarily quietened. “After what you did…”

But you raised your hand, all fingers curling save for your pointer. “Don’t,” you muttered. “I don’t need your speech. Not today.”

Second hand raising, they held onto the man’s shoulders, gripping tight. “Look, I know this is crazy…I-I truly get it…but you have to believe me. 

“I need you to believe in me.”

He inspected your agony, the nails that started to dig into his clothes. Gritting his teeth, he should know better than to go along with your follies, and nurse you out of your despair when it causes ruination every time. He had to recognise your self-destructive tendencies, especially since he was always at the scene of your crimes. 

In that moment, though, with the amount of hope you held in your eyes…

He had a feeling that this time, he could not let you down.

So, with a harsh sigh through his nose, he held your arms, pushing them off. “Fine,” he got out, scowling at how easily you were elated. “But!”

You were already whirling around, running to your wardrobe. “Oh, thank you, Seungkwan, thank you, thank you! God, I must begin preparations at once!”

“_____! I have a condition!”

But you paid him no mind, searching through your more luxurious outfits—the ones that managed the cut when you rush-packed for this spontaneous journey. “Go on, Seungkwan. Throw me something truly horrendous!”

There was a moment’s quiet before he spoke.

“If this night turns out to be a sham, then we are leaving Paris.”

That certainly dampened your spirits.

You turned around. “That truly is horrendous.”

The agent did not smile. “I mean it. You have my interest for now, _____, but if this is another one of your drunken plans then I cannot humour them anymore.”

Had you not beseeched for his faith mere minutes ago, you would have started arguing with him. At least this once, you had to let him keep the condition.

Even if it meant leaving your sanctuary—and the certain people that resided within it.

DESPITE SEUNGKWAN’S SUSPICIONS, THE RIDE TO MOULIN ROUGE ARRIVED AT THE VERY MINUTE IT WAS PROMISED.

You ushered him to introduce yourself to the chauffeur, watching out of your window as he made his way to the entrance, introducing himself in his usual charismatic charm. You could only hear certain words—courtesy of your hotel room being five floors high—but when you saw your agent looking at you down below, signalling your presence, you knew it was time.

Leaving the windowsill, you inspected yourself in the floor-length mirror in your room, checking the final details. Fortunately for you, you had kept your winter Dior gown from several years ago, worn once at a private party back in LA. Although a little out of fashion for this night, it was still as gorgeous as the first time you had worn it; it was a creation of black silk and velvet, sleeveless bodice tightly fitted as the heavy skirt flowed down. The showstopper detail were the two, huge swoops of midnight velvet, creating an appearance of a huge bow, fitted at the edges of your bodice’s hem. You added to the dress by wearing white gloves, reaching till your elbow, and adorning black diamonds, settled around your neck. The matching earrings glimmered in the hotel lights, accentuating your makeup.

For someone who had lost her stylists, artists, designers and the like, you had truly outdone yourself.

You allowed yourself a deep, hard breath.

You were ready.

Once you fished out a fur scarf, you wrapped it around yourself, making sure your face remained at least half-hidden. Deep down, if the journalists caught you travelling to Moulin Rouge, you knew you would not hate it too much.

So what if you were creating anarchy in the Parisian parties? At least you would look exquisite doing so.

Exiting the hotel room, you locked the door shut, making your way down to the entrance. Once you felt the Parisian air you lifted your scarf, making sure no one recognised you as Seungkwan ushered you, his mask covering his nose and mouth.

The closer you hastened to your car, the more you could observe its sheer opulence. Jeonghan certainly paid no mind to expenses, providing a Porsche Limousine for his guests. Once you entered inside the car there was champagne in the foot of the huge seats, and you could have sworn Seungkwan could have kicked his feet in mid-air over the sight.

“Perhaps I should let you carry on with your delusions!” 

“Enough!”

The ride to Moulin Rouge was not far in the slightest, but it felt like forever. You wished it had lasted forever, because the nearer you rode to your destination, the more tangible the idea became that the tabloids had discovered the location for Jeonghan’s private party. Yes, you distinctly remembered, not even an hour ago, that you did not care for the piranha-like press, but now you were out of the comforts of your hotel, and into the great, wide world. 

“_____, snap out of it.”

You winced at your agent’s order, sucking your teeth. He fixed his bow-tie, continuing, “Now that you’ve proved me wrong, you cannot shy away from tonight. If that poor man invited you, then you owe it to him to go.”

Nodding absent-mindedly, you locked your hands upon your lap. Seungkwan was right—Jeonghan had the decency to extend the olive branch, even when you had hastened your departure the last time you had encountered him. Admittedly, he was reciting riddles you had quickly deciphered, but you were too much of a coward to insist what his true intentions were behind his whimsical speech. Your history with him was overwhelming enough; you did not need it to further entangle your present with him.

Still. You could not help feeling a little thrilled at seeing his invitation. You meant what you said to him that night.

You were incredibly pleased to see him—even if you had not expressed it properly to him.

The chauffeur slowed the vehicle at the front of the destination, the signature red lights of the mill flashing excitedly in the black night, wrapped all around the dome. The white lights of MUSIC HALL, plastered at the front of the establishment, flickered as your ride finally stopped. Quickly checking your surroundings, you breathed out in relief, not realising you were holding it in.

There seemed to be no flashing cameras nearby.

Seungkwan opened his door, which was next to the entrance. “Right,” he commenced, one leg out of the car. “Let us go!”

Once he was fully out, he brought out his hand for you. Taking it, you carefully manoeuvred your dress, taking great pains not to crease its silk panels as you heaved out of the car, making certain your face still hid from the rush of guests. When your dress had left the vehicle, your companion shut the door, ushering instructions for the chauffeur to drive wherever the rest of Jeonghan’s employees were stationed.

Offering his arm, you accepted gratefully, turning to look at him, face covered save for his determined eyes.

He tilted his head to the entrance—all he needed was your approval.

You nodded.

With your heart in your throat, you both stepped inside the Moulin Rouge, the first great event you had attended since the night of your downfall.

It was utter chaos.

Although you had been to the Moulin Rouge in the past, you had missed its grand reopening three years prior, when one of the Hollywood actors had renovated the establishments and extended its services to the elite population. You took in the grand, theatre-like atmosphere, engulfed with reds of all shades and textures, the colour of blood and rubies and danger flooding your senses. Dozens of tables, overflowing to the brim with food and drink, were occupied by some of the greatest actors of your time, filling the halls with merry conversation. Chandeliers, dangling off the high ceilings of the theatre, shined the place with sparkly light, reflecting off the diamonds in your necklace, and the thousand other jewels everyone adorned.

The real stars of this show, however, were the ladies in the centre of the stage—the cabaret dancers, their vibrant, peacock-like appearance shocking and wowing their high-class crowd. With their feather headpieces as big as their bodies, they twirled about in their frilly skirts, exposing their stockinged legs, causing either furious blushing or drunken hooting. Most sang in slurred French, while others flirted with their audience, their silent conversations returned with glee.

The entire place was chaos only the rich would indulge in.

This was the chaos you had missed out on, for all these months. 

“What the…” Seungkwan breathed out, unable to finish his shocked cursing. You shared in his sentiments, though, when you could not believe what your vision exposed to you. 

Even so, with everything that raged around you, your eyes scoured for the one man you entered this jungle of fame for. 

It was so strange—so incredibly extraordinary—that when you did find him, in the thick of the jungle, men and women like vines, entangling his figure, he was not focused on his admirers.

No, he did not care for the people around him, because his dark eyes found yours, long before you had found his.

You parted your mouth, the noise of the cabaret tuned out.

There he stood, a dark angel among the demons of Paris, waiting for you in the modern underworld. His usual soft curls had been straightened, along with his fringes, curtaining his face on the sides. Forever the fashion-revolutionary, he had worn a simple white vest underneath his sleek, black blazer, boots tapping softly against the beat of the music. Even with the distance separating the two of you, he had somehow robbed the very oxygen from your throat. 

Then he smiled at you, making a move forward, and all you could do was stay still. 

You could only watch as he muttered soft excuses to his guests, rooted to you as he crept closer. Your agent raised a brow at your changed demeanour, trying to follow your line of sight, but he did not catch the man who was charged with shocking you quiet.

He was about to ask what had gotten into you when the culprit emerged from the crowds.

Seungkwan’s mouth dropped to the floor.

“What the fuck?”

It seemed only Yoon Jeonghan could have finished his curses.

The film noir star eased up the carpeted steps, stopping before the two of you.

“Good evening to you, too, dear Seungkwan,” he said, voice like a balm among the boom of the Rouge.  

But then he slid those haunting eyes to you—all over you, darting on the details of your dress—and you could have melted to the floor. 

You knew instantly that he recognised the outfit.

“I see you have not left everything in LA.”

You shook your head, the corners of your mouth curling upwards. “No, I…I did bring some cherished items with me.”

A soft noise, like the beginnings of a laugh, escaped his nose. “Very good to know.” He peeked at the signature Dior bow. “I have a feeling that you are aware of this, but you look exquisite.”

Your stomach tightened at his words. “You don’t look so awful yourself.”

Now he let himself laugh properly, head tilting to his side. “I would have ridiculed your vanity, chérie, had you not deserved to possess it.”

That had your cheeks burning. His gaze became harder to uphold. “Thank you for your invitation,” you then said, suddenly eager to pass the embarrassment to another poor victim. “Seungkwan here thought it a fraud at first.”

The said-man gasped, glaring daggers at you. Jeonghan raised his brows, casting his dancing eyes to him. “Did you, now?”

“It was nothing like that!” he immediately rebuked, but then he huffed out, realising that was not fully honest. “Well, I mean…you must understand, we haven’t spoken to you in so long, so it didn’t seem real…”

It was your turn to glare at your friend spewing rubbish, but the actor offered a sheepish expression. “You speak the truth, I’m afraid. It had been much too long.”

He watched you, guilt morphing in his smile. “Let’s not be strangers anymore.”

Catching your lower lip with your teeth, you wondered how to respond to him—to these simple words, and the true complexities underneath. Thankfully, you did not have to, when he turned to the crowds, gesturing to the empty table in the centre. “Come,” he said, offering his arm to you. “Let’s settle at my table. We have a good view of the dancers.”

You looked at Seungkwan before accepting, looping your hand upon Jeonghan’s arm. “Your friends…who did you invite?”

“I actually didn’t plan this.” He pointed to the man beside the stage, talking to the staff as he observed the cabaret dancers. “Joshua threw this party in my honour. He owns the Moulin Rouge today.”

You remembered the news—your once co-star turned businessman, buying this dying establishment in efforts to revive the cabaret spirit. It seemed to be working, though, because your agent recalled that Joshua Hong was more successful as an entertainer than an actor. To you, that news was horrendous, because the man was already so successful as a film star.

The piece of information that stung, however, was that this was not your ex’s doing—perhaps you were another name on a long list to throw an invite to, lest they complain.

He patted your hand with his free one. “Your invitation, however, was of my own accord.”

You did not know why that made you smug. “I couldn’t imagine anyone else inviting a ruined actress to their birthday party.”

He matched your mirth. “And an ex at that? I have out-shocked myself this time.”

Chuckling, you swiped at your black dress, bow swaying. “I’m ready.”

“Let us go then.”

Descending the steps, the film noir star led you to the centre of the theatre, the celebrities surrounding the three of you quieting their conversations. Your nerves instantly sparked to life, bubbling within your body, and you tightened your hold on Jeonghan’s arm as he walked through the crowd, unfazed by the shift in atmosphere. Thank the Lord that the music was still deafening, cabaret girls still dancing. 

Seungkwan, plastering professional smiles to anyone he caught sight of, leaned closer as he strode beside you. “I guess you weren’t lying after all.”

Eyes darting to each and every stunned expression, you whispered back, “I haven’t gone insane yet. These people might drive me to it though…”

The empty table came into view, a huge circle clothed in white, possibly every single bottle of alcohol in Paris settled atop its surface. Fine-dined food was served before every chair, the luxurious scent teasing your nose, almost distracting you from the scrutiny of everyone in the hall. 

By this time, the owner of Moulin Rouge had returned to this important table, ordering the waiters as he pulled out a chair, ready to sit. He then saw the three people who had arrived in front of him, and his eyes widened, instantly straightening himself. 

“Oh, wow!” he exclaimed, hands gesturing to the two new guests. “I never thought I’d see the day!”

“Joshua,” Jeonghan began, looking at you and your agent, “I see my friends need no introduction.”

“Why, of course not!” The strapping young man walked around the table, providing you with a full view of his black tuxedo, matching bow-tie stark against his white shirt. His hair had been sleekly gelled back, but a stray lock curled over his forehead, accentuating his already lush appearance. Reaching over to you, he kissed both of your cheeks—very Parisian of him, you noted—and pulled away, smiling. “My goodness, I can’t believe you’re here in front of me!”

Chuckling a little, you tried, “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he countered. “No one has seen you since you left, you know. I was half-worried the press would report your sudden death!”

“Not if I have anything to do with that,” Seungkwan immediately said, crossing his arms. “I have spent too much time and energy on _____ to see her dead in our hotel room.”

Glaring at your agent, you faced the businessman. “As you can see, I am alive and well. Or at least alive and better.”

He picked up a flute of champagne from his seat. “I must admit,” he confessed, “I did not think you would show up.”

You tried not to avert his gaze. “I did not want to miss Jeonghan’s birthday,” you replied, and you swore you could feel the said-man’s lips tug upwards.

A knowing smile caught onto the businessman’s lips. “I see,” he murmured, sipping his drink. “That is good to hear, because Jeonghan was expecting you tonight.”

This time, you whirled to the accused. Had you not been quick, you would have missed the second-long glare he sent his friend before morphing into an impassive daze. But then he caught your slight surprise, and knew you had seen it. His explanation was as swift as his glower. “I knew you would not miss a night of drinking and dancing.”

“I mean…I have missed plenty since the scandal.”

“But you being here is a sign of progress!” Joshua chimed in. “You attending this party is another way of getting back into the industry, and I wish to help every step of the way.” He slapped his hands together. “Your first task should be enjoying this night as much as you can.”

He then turned to the two men. “Isn’t that right, gentlemen?”

Seungkwan scoffed, mumbling something akin to how you would rather be scandalised again than have some good fun. Jeonghan, on the other hand, was watching you, picking up his flute of wine. 

Raising his glass, he declared, “To betterment.”

Joshua followed suit, even louder. “To betterment!” He saw yours and Seungkwan’s empty hands as he drank his champagne, letting out a dissatisfied noise. “Oh, do excuse me!” Snapping his fingers, two waiters ushered to each of you, offering flutes of champagne. 

You took from one the tray, raising it slightly. “To betterment,” you muttered, drinking. 

“Now, you must excuse me for the second time,” Joshua began, a hand on your bare shoulder. “I have a few more guests to entertain.” Grabbing onto the chair that you had planned to sit upon, he pulled it out, gesturing for you to carry out your intentions. “In the meantime, do settle down! I will be back very soon.”

Obliging the owner, you gingerly settled yourself onto the ornate seating, careful not to ruin your gown in the process. You held a hand over your diamond necklace, positioning the largest in the middle once more before setting your flute upon the table. As you sat, so did the others, Jeonghan on your left, Seungkwan on your right. 

The three of you watched the anarchy of the cabaret dancers, raising their legs to their sky, earning shocked, drunken laughter as their underskirts were revealed, contrasted by the bright colours of their stockings. Their large feathers shimmied along to their movements, drooping over their shoulders. 

Your agent blinked back at their provocative dancing, downing another flute of alcohol. “Why didn’t anybody show me this whenever we were in Paris?”

You clicked your tongue. “Because you don’t like Paris. I always have to drag you out here.”

Seungkwan began to groan, furrowing his brows. “Because this city is a bore!” He pointed at you with his glass. “Seeing the Mona Lisa and the Eiffel Tower is only interesting the first three times. Then, they become what they truly are…a metal building and some average-looking woman who ought to smile more.”

Your scoff had a few people from neighbouring tables turning their heads. “That entire comparison is enough for me to fire you.”

“Oh, please!” He raised himself in his seat a little to catch a look at the actor beside you, silent in his seat as he observed the cabaret. “I know Jeonghan here will agree with me!”

The said-man slid his eyes to the tipsy agent. “Think again, Seungkwan,” you rebuked. “Jeonghan loves Paris more than I do. And that is saying something.”

The younger man looked to the elder in pleading, ready to forgo his career to prove you wrong. The film star could not help chuckling.

Usually, he would have played along, if only to tease you—but the subject of discussion was much too serious for him.

“I cannot help you today, dear Seungkwan,” he said, a nostalgic smile staining his lips as he swirled his wine. “Paris is like a home to me.”

“Hmph.” Another flute finished, smacking it upon the table. “You both are beginning to irritate me!” He inspected the room, finding acquaintances to mingle with. “Now, I am going to go and dance with a few friends,” he declared, standing from his chair. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Friends? Since when did you have friends here?”

“Unlike you, dear _____, I choose not to rot in my misery,” your agent chirped, sarcasm amplified from the drink, “I instead interact with other human beings. Works like a charm!”

“Have fun,” you called to him, as if you were not praying he tripped and broke a leg. Unfortunately, he would not be useful to you as a cripple, and so instead hoped he was lying about having friends in this city.

Once he disappeared into a crowd of actors, you sighed—you would have slumped your shoulders had it not been a risk to your dress.

“What’s the sigh for?”

You watched your only companion entertain his alleged friends. “I was hoping Seungkwan only knew me in this event.” A bitter scoff. “I suppose I should mingle too…make more of these friends.”

“You cannot blame an agent for having connections,” Jeonghan said, taking a sip of his wine. 

“I’m not blaming him,” you lied, exasperated with his pragmatism. You knew you were being unreasonable—he did not have to state it out loud. “I just…I don’t know anyone here.”

He caught onto your first dishonesty, but did not deign to comment on it. 

Instead, he voiced out a thought that lingered upon him. “You know me.”

You turned to him. “Yes…I suppose so.”

“Is that not enough?”

You turned over his question. As you observed him finishing his wine, catching the alcohol on his lips with his tongue, you wanted to tell him no.

No, because whatever joy you had received in his attentions, did it replace the heights of attention you gained from millions? He may have been Yoon Jeonghan, but even a single star reached the skies through the help of a mass of rays, retiring along with the sun.

Was a once beloved man’s affections greater than the affections of the world?

It took everything in your power not to answer him, but to your greatest fortunes, you were saved from breaking the man’s heart. Just that second, Joshua sauntered through the crowds, bringing another bottle of extremely expensive wine, setting it upon the empty space before you. 

“What are you two sitting around for?” He pointed to his dear friend, then waved at the chaos around them both. “I didn’t arrange the most glamorous birthday party in Paris for the birthday boy to not partake in it!”

“Ah, Shua…I will drink first,” the actor reassured him, accepting the businessman’s refills of his glass. “I want you to dance!”

“Fine!” Joshua’s eyes darted to you, and he held his hand out. “But only if _____ here will dance with me.”

You laughed awkwardly, waving off his advances. “No, please, I’ve only just arrived!” You tipped your head towards the many more renowned actresses, without any partners. “Go indulge your other co-stars. I will enjoy the cabaret show you and you alone have arranged.”

Grinning at your intelligent evasion, he consented, “I will oblige you this once, but only because you have appreciated my entertainment!” He pointed at the two of you, finger darting with each second. “Don’t think you both have rid of me!”

“Of course not!” you exclaimed back as he left your side, acutely aware that you would cause scandal once more if it meant you did not have to frolic in the crowds tonight. The drink was already messing with your mind, and you had to pause, lest you lost yourself to the smooth jazz of the theatre. 

Soon, with the young night beginning to age, almost everyone shot up from their seats, dancing along to the rhythm of the dancers. Every actor, designer, stylist and people from the industry partnered with each other, whirling to the boisterous music that filled the Moulin Rouge. 

The atmosphere almost made you forget about everything that plagued your spirits, clapping your hands to the beat of the music. Your agent had found himself in the arms of dozens of women, drinking and dabbling in the celebrity gossip. You even found yourself making light-hearted conversation with old acquaintances within neighbouring tables, though you admit you had to thank Jeonghan’s presence for such attraction towards you. Before, the lack of attention upon you would have stung greatly, but the man beside you had a strange talent of making one feel incredibly special in any place, at any hour. 

You feared the questions that were sure to come, especially when you had shown yourself in the film scene for the first time in a while, but the people surrounding you only expressed their contentment in your arrival. It was so strange, when it was people, once of your own station, simply asking about your wellbeing, rather than reporters and cameras, mics rammed down your throat to record your latest scandal. 

Aside from the inquiries, there were also offers to join in the merry waltzing. Many a time the owner of this theatre endeavoured to have you join the others, but you waved off his hands, daring him instead to dance with the cabaret girls. 

“You do Joshua a disservice,” Jeonghan chided light-heartedly, melodic voice louder to avoid being drowned out from the saxophones. “Refusing his hand for the fourth time.”

“I haven’t danced in a while!” you exclaimed over the noise. “I refuse to embarrass myself in front of hundreds.”

“Well, you must,” he insisted, slowly raising from his chair. “Because I wish to dance and you will join me.”

Your chortling was sudden. “Do keep dreaming, Jeonghan!” You waved your finger to the dozens of actresses, eyeing up the birthday boy. “Go offer your hand to a woman who will actually accept.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, a smirk ghosting his lips. “You refuse to indulge the wishes of a man on his birthday?” 

Scoffing, you downed your drink. “I am certain you will find many more to indulge your wishes beside me.”

You averted his gaze, watching your drunk agent dancing rather spectacularly with Jeonghan’s current co-star. You had to hand it to him—Seungkwan climbed up the social ladder quicker than you expected. 

“All right…”

Jeonghan sat back in his seat. Picking up a teaspoon from the table, he clinked it against his glass, catching the attention of the tables around you.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he declared. “Due to _____’s refusal, I will not be dancing with anyone this evening!”

Your eyes widened. 

Everyone within your radius turned their heads to your table. 

That was when the shouting began.

“What the—!”

“_____, don’t be a stick-in-the-mud!”

“Jeonghan, dance with us instead!”

The agitated exclamations, alternative offers chimed all around you two. Joshua, upon hearing this, squeezed past the growing crowd, hands on his hips at his old friend’s declaration.

“This will simply not do!” He then focused on you, gesturing to the seated man. “_____, you must dance with him.”

This was supported by a few cheers, urging you to accept. Seungkwan, who, too, heard the commotion, paused his dancing, the beautiful co-star right beside him. When he caught onto what everyone was complaining for, he snorted, shaking his head. “Save your voices, dear friends!” he yelled out. “_____ here would rather drop dead than listen to good sense!”

You would have shouted at him, but you could only gape at the man who caused the chaos.

“Come on, it’s just a dance!”

“It will only last a minute!”

“It’s his birthday, for God’s sake!”

His smirk, ghost-like before, sparked to life. 

Son of a bitch. 

“Fine!” you suddenly screeched, brows twisting in irritation. “I’ll dance, damn it!”

Your irritation grew when cheers rang around the theatre, which in turn had the music changing. The instruments jingled out even more livelier melodies, indicating that the birthday-boy was entering the space. Smoothly the actor left his seat, watching you reflect his action, albeit with more frustration. 

When you raised your head, your gaze fell on the outstretched hand.

With a melodramatic sigh, you took it.

Fingers wrapping around your hand, he led you to the emptier spaces, void of the tables as the crowds dispersed, resuming their swinging and waltzing. Once you both found a place, you looked at him, not pleased at all.

“Happy?” you jeered.

But then his hand slithered around your bare back, tugging you closer. With a hitched breath you were pulled in, your free hand instinctively grabbing his shoulder.

His eyes had you blinking back. 

“Exceptionally.”

You could only stare at him as he began to move.

The steps were short, snappy, matching the tune of the jazz which welcomed everyone’s ears. You dared not speak, too close to him, feeling his very breath fan your skin as he swung your enclasped hands along.

The ends of his hair tickled your hand on his shoulder, and you shifted, stumbling slightly into his hold. “Careful,” he whispered, and you felt your skin prickle at every corner. “Your step is a little shaky.”

“You think?” you asked sharply. When he chuckled, you realised that you did not think the sarcasm, but voiced it. 

You must really stop drinking. 

“You’re tipsy, aren’t you?” he inquired, squinting at you in amazement. “Goodness, you still can’t handle your drink?”

“As if you are not,” you countered, noticing the pauses in his step. “You dance better when you’re sober.”

“At least I dance at all.” He swirled you around, careful not to tarnish your dress. “Instead of shying away in a corner…away from everyone else.”

You gave him an irked glance. “You were with me in that corner, too.”

He returned it softly. “I wasn’t going to leave you alone, was I?”

“Hmm.”

He waited, watching your eyes stray to the dancers behind him, when he added a little amusement to his tone. “Plus, when you wear a dress like this…it should be a sin to hide yourself.”

A temporary look. “I thought you would forget.”

Scoffing, he mocked heartbreak as he pressed the enclasped hands to his chest. “You wounded me dearly with that, _____.” 

Turning you about, the music tuned louder as he closed his eyes. “It was 1949…spring time. Ah, yes, It was the after party of my first premier, and my co-stars and I were all dancing, just as we are now…”

His fingers held onto yours tighter. “And then you entered, wearing this…” 

He opened his eyes, gazing down at the details of your gown. “I swear to you, I forgot I had a movie coming out that night when I saw you in this dress.”

If he did not cease his words, then your face would have set alight. “All right, all right!” you exclaimed, tapping his shoulder. “You have proved yourself!” 

“Good. Don’t try and doubt me again.”

When you did not say anything, his lower lip jutted out ever so slightly. “Why did you wear it?” He slowed his movements. “You never wear something without making a statement.”

“It…” You tried to find the words. “It seemed fitting for tonight,” you said, forgetting your footsteps, the rhythm becoming second nature. 

A smile haunted your lips for a mere second. “Because I have not forgotten either.”

Jeonghan’s smile lingered on for you. 

The two of you did not speak much afterwards, basking in each other’s presences as the music progressed on. The cabaret dancers were growing wilder as midnight struck, enough time to become rowdy, furthering the chaos their movements had elicited. What was once whispered conversations, hesitant footsteps had familiarised into old friends as you two swirled and swirled, taking no heed of the people that stopped and stared at the centre. 

The actor’s hushed chuckles had become boisterous laughter in your arms, drumming his fingers against your back. You relished in each touch, heightened by the alcohol thrumming in your veins, yourself swaying your head to the beat. 

You were beginning to fly. 

After an eternity of being imprisoned, a certain someone had opened the locks to your cage, setting you free. You had grown wings of joy, of restlessness, and now you were flying in his hold, floating in the atmosphere of his eyes. Your heart was so light, drifting like the bubbles in your champagne glass, slipping past its rim, almost staining your dress and his suit multiple times. 

You tried to offer compensation for your carelessness, but he refused it outright, lips brushing against your ear. “Stain a thousand suits if it means you will come back…” his words were slow, stained with alcoholic truths. “If you’ll truly come back.”

Your laugh tickled his neck. “No one will have me,” you whispered, ironically sanguine for a fact so bleak. 

His pull had your shoulder touching his, all space near snuffed out. 

His plea had your hand in his turning limp. 

“Don’t say that, chérie…because it’s not true.”

Instinct had you retracting a little, staring at him. The ache in his eyes could have broken your heart. 

It must not have been that long, but it felt like forever and more, looking at him as if he had uttered a revolutionary speech, shared a secret of the universe. Time seemed to have slowed around you—perhaps an effect of the champagne, but you chose to be fantastical—the saxophones muted, the people quietened, and the lights dimmed.

This was a shot—a scene from the past, and at any moment there would be a director shouting action! in the corner, and it would all begin.

The fantasy would live on. Your downfall would become a non-existent event, and everything would be okay again.

It was in that exact, fated moment, when you heard a distant noise which stopped your vision.

A noise which was not of your dreams, but of your nightmares.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

Jeonghan saw your eyes freeze over, body stilling under his hold. Frightened whispering spread at the back of the crowds, where the entrance was situated.

A distant actor’s exclamation had the rest scrambling.

“Who let the fucking press in here?!”

In an instant Joshua had made his way to the front, confusion and frustration mixing in his features. “What is going on?!” he demanded, the unforgettable camera flashing on the first layer of guests. “How the hell did they manage to sneak in here?!”

As the owner squeezed his way past, the rest of the guests groaned in agitation, even the cabaret dancers slowing down their enchanting routine. You did notice a damn thing, though, because the click! click! click! was ringing in your mind like the echoes of a gong, your entire body was constricting, your hand was tightening upon your partner’s, your breathing was going ragged—

“_____.”

The reporters were here. 

The media had found themselves a jackpot with Jeonghan’s private party, but the moment they caught you, it would be over. There would be nothing left as they will take your pictures, confirm your attendance in circles, drunk-dancing with your ex-boyfriend at his party, standing too close for comfort, and it would all be fucking over. 

“_____.”

This was something out of your nightmares. 

You could not move, refusing to listen to the voices beside you, unable to hear the commotion that had sprung up at the unexpected intrusion. Your vision had dazed out, mouth parted, tongue dry, and you could do nothing as your legs threatened to buckle. 

Only the voice of one man brought you out of your stupor.

“_____.”

A jolt coursed through you. 

“Come with me.”

He tugged on your enclasped hands, made to move in an opposite direction, but your body was still rooted, still amongst the crowds that went towards the flashing cameras. 

“I…” you could barely bring your voice to the surface—cowering down your throat, refusing to rise. “I-I…they’ll get me…”

“_____.”

His fingers tightened within yours. 

“Do you trust me?”

Again, the fated question.

How could you have answered him, when your tongue had abandoned its practice? How could you provide him with a response when your world was collapsing around you, the clicking of the cameras, the shouting of the reporters taking over your very senses?

But then his hands were upon your face, urging you to look at him. The intensity of his eyes could have brought you to your feet.

“Do you trust me, chérie?”

You parted your mouth.

Perhaps in another lifetime, you would have died underneath his fingertips. The press would have procured pictures of Jeonghan gaping at your decorated corpse, and his birthday would be remembered in the pages of celebrity gossip for the rest of his days.

But Jeonghan did not offer disaster—he did not show you further downfall in his path. What the man before you offered was an opportunity.

A chance to escape your doom.

You would have been the greatest fool in the world not to accept.

Especially when he looked so damned desperate to give it to you.

Your nod was barely a dip of your head.

“Help me, Jeonghan.”

That was all the man needed.

Letting go of you, he instead grabbed onto your hand, enveloping his slender fingers with yours. Looking over to the exits beside the stages, chaos heightening, he knew exactly where to go.

With one determined tug, he snapped you out of your spell.

His hand was your anchor as he led you against the current of actors, singers, all his celebrity friends. Slipping through with the slight-empty gaps, the two of you weaved your way to the furthest doors, the actor snapping it open with his free hand. Quickly he ushered you through thin hallways, a plethora of costumes, make-up kits, accessories spilling on the floor, hooked to the walls, but they were paid little mind. Once you both reached the final door, he resorted to kicking it open with his foot. No one was outside at the back of the huge establishment, only the Parisian sky, lighting the way to wherever your saviour was taking you.

Mumbling under his breath, he suddenly let an ah! escape as you saw his familiar sleek Bentley, camouflaged from the night. Perhaps the driver had seen you both hurrying to the car, because as Jeonghan clutched the door handle, it swiftly opened. You were lucky your gown was unharmed with the way you were ushered inside, gathering your velvet skirts to allow him space to settle beside you.

Clapping his hand against the driver’s seat, he voiced out orders in rapid, breathless French, you too overwhelmed to try and translate. Your heart was beating much too quickly, pounding in your ears from the swift exit. You had to wait a long time to settle, silent as the car revved to life, speeding out of the back entrance of the Moulin Rouge, away from the chaos. 

The roads were largely empty, thanks to the night’s growing age, the better population gone to sleep and forget the events of a rather uneventful evening.

For you, though, there would be no sleep.

For you were wide awake, looking out of the window, rooted in your position as you tried to calm your nerves. The shock had made you sober for those minutes of panic in the establishment, but as the ride kept driving to an unknown destination, you began to calm down, breathing deeply with every turn of the vehicle.

Perhaps it helped much that there was no conversation in the car, no questions about whether you were all right, whether you needed anything. 

The sole help you needed—which you received—was his hand, still entwined with your gloved one. 

You wondered whether his fingers were still warm, like how they were, ghosting along your back. 

You dared not glance at him, in case your question would show on your face. 

The roads began to look more familiar, you recognising where he was taking you. The statue of the general towered over your vision once more, and the car slowed to a stop.

Without the sounds of the engine, the silence had become much louder. 

The actor decided to break it first.

“We’re here.”

Right.

You nodded, albeit absent-mindedly.

He turned his head to the hotel, opposite his side, and opened the door.

Your hand and his were still intertwined. 

With a soft tug, he brought you out of the car, taking great care of your dress as it fell out in swaying folds from the seat. Snapping the door shut behind you, he bid his chauffeur to wait.

Taking a second-long glimpse at the Ritz, he then caught your unsettled gaze. “I will go back to the party…apologise to Shua for my hasty exit, and let Seungkwan know that you’re safe.”

He made to turn.

Your hand refused to let him go.

Feeling the tug of your fingers stopping his return, he faced you again, an inquisitive look upon his features.

You slipped out a request.

“Stay.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widened.

Swallowing hard, you looked down at your hands, continuing because the silence was unbearable. “I know this is a bit sudden…I understand that, but I hate how the night turned out and…I don’t know, I…” 

Your free hand gestured towards the hotel. “I have wine in my room. It’s not much, but…” You glanced up at him, trying to muster a little earnestness. “I would hate that your birthday ended with you running away…helping me run away.”

You watched him raise his brows, and you fought the urge to avoid his scrutiny. You could tell he was uncertain, with the way he pressed his lips together, deep in thought. His hair swayed gently in the late night breeze, the sides of his fringe half-covering his vision, and you could only wait as he weighed in the cons of your invitation.

Because now you realised it was a bad idea, and maybe you were still drunk—you had never made a good decision in your life when your mind was disarrayed with alcohol.

But then he answered you, and your decision proved to be perfect.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind some more wine.”

Sober you would not have smiled so quickly at his answer.

Sober Jeonghan just might have—but he, too, was in a state much like yours.

Turning, he updated his chauffeur with new instructions, and this time you listened; the latter was urged to drive back to Moulin Rouge, where he would inform Joshua and Seungkwan of his and your whereabouts. Both of you watched the sleek black Bentley drive away, fading away into the Parisian roads.

The film noir star turned to you. He raised your hand in his. 

“Lead the way, then.”

With your spirits higher than they had been the entire night, you obliged him, walking to the entrance. Pushing the doors open, the both of you tried to avoid showing your faces, but it was fortunate enough that no one was around to catch you both.

The journey to your room was a short one, but you still took your time, making sure your gown did not make you stumble. Your company’s hand was much needed, because you were a little unsteady, gloved hands grabbing onto walls, clutching your doorknob tighter than usual. 

Unlocking the door with your free hand, you pushed it open, entering first. You pulled him inside, and he regarded his surroundings. The mess in your room did not clean itself up in your absence, and you had to toss some clothes closer to your wardrobe with your heel, where they had made a pile next to your bed. “I was in a hurry,” you reasoned, but you could tell he did not believe you in the slightest. 

“Here,” you said, pointing to the chairs beside the window. “Sit over there.”

Obeying you, he crossed the distance, only to be stopped once more by your grasp. This time, he had to object. “Your hand,” he voiced out, tugging on the hold. “You’re going to have to let go of me.”

It was then you noticed truly how long you had been holding onto him. 

Slowly, you unravelled your fingers from him, he settling into one of the chairs. You did not like how empty your hand became, despite the gloves masking any real touches. 

“Missing my touch already?” you heard his feline question, and you realised you had been staring at your hand, flexing and unflexing. 

Cheeks heating, you got out, “Never!” before turning your back on him. Searching for your secret bottles, you reached down next to the bed, underneath the side-table. They were well-hidden in the past, when your agent would scour your surroundings to take them from you. Grabbing one of the four, you read the label, satisfied with the quality. 

Screwing open the cap, you looked around for any fresh glasses. “Let me phone up room service.” Walking over to the dainty, circular table in front of him, you brought the bottle down. “There’s nothing to pour this in.”

“No, don’t fret yourself. We can drink from the bottle.”

“Oh.” You looked down at your dress, suddenly feeling much too formal. “I’ll be with you in a minute, then,” you began, gesturing to the bathroom. “I need to get out of this—”

“_____.”

You paused.

He jerked his head towards the empty chair. “Don’t take that dress off. Not while I’m here.”

Your hands at your sides went limp. All you could say again was, “Oh.”

A raised brow. “What are you ohing for? Did you not wear it for me?” He flicked the bottle cap off the bottle, watching your fluster. “At least let me enjoy the sight till I leave.”

You would have hoped he would not see your unease, reflexively touching the back of your neck. Quickly you settled in your chair, waiting for him to take the first sip. 

When he was done, he stretched his arm, enough for the bottle to reach your fingers. Receiving it, you decided to take a hearty chug. “My goodness,” he commented, ushering you to return the bottle. “Perhaps we should return to the party. At least we won’t run out of wine there.”

You smacked your lips together, sticking slightly from the alcohol. “I feel awful about that, by the way.” You locked your hands together upon your lap. “Making you run away from your own birthday.” 

“Don’t worry yourself,” he assured you, “The moment those journalists crashed the place, I was going to leave.” A second swig of the bottle. “I wager the party’s dispersed by now.”

“The fucking press,” you cursed low, “Ruining a perfectly good evening.”

That had the actor cocking his head. “Perfectly good evening, you say?” he repeated. “The _____, enjoying herself out of her hotel room? Interacting with others, and relishing the attention?”

“That is not true!” you protested, snatching the bottle from him. “It was not as if I made any proper conversation with anyone there.”

“Well that was because you spent all your precious conversation on me.”

“Don’t make me regret leaving this hotel,” you warned, earning a chuckle from him. “Besides…I didn’t want to talk to anyone else.”

This time, you enjoyed the thrum the wine brought to your senses. “You know something funny?” He lifted his brows, urging you to go on. “I didn’t even give you a birthday present.” You brought the bottle upon the table, frowning. “Well, I suppose that is not funny, more rude, but…”

Jeonghan took a longer swig of the wine than usual. He took his lower lip between his teeth, taking in the cherry-coloured residue. “Your company was what I wished for…not your gifts.”

Your breath paused at that comment.

“I…I see.”

He decided to take another turn, gulping down the alcohol. He smacked it down on the table’s surface, groaning through his nose. “Fuck,” he whispered. 

“Jeonghan.”

Sliding the bottle to you once more, he hummed. “Yes?”

You wondered whether you should ask the question that lingered on your tongue. 

Glancing down at your hands, you knitted your brows. “Um…how did you manage…you know…when you were struggling back then?”

An uneasy pause. “In what sense?”

“Well…” Smoothing out the fabric of your gloves, you tried to continue. “I mean, you went through this once, right? You know…during our….”

A harsh hum. “Yes, I remember.” 

A harsher intake of breath, which had you grabbing the wine bottle. His voice entertained your ears as you drank. “I won’t lie to you, it was difficult…not everyone tasted success as quickly as you did.”

Was that meant to sting? Perhaps it was not his intention, but you still felt the bite. “I suppose what helped was that once you’re at rock bottom…there is no other way but up.” He folded his leg over the other, crossing his arms. “The one thing that kept me going was that I knew it would get better…thankfully, it did.”

“But what did you do?” you pressed. “What did you do which changed everything?”

He pretended to ponder, but his answer came to him as instant as the million clicks of the Moulin Rouge cameras.

“I stopped hiding, _____.”

You could not avoid him any longer.

“Not that I ever really went anywhere, but…” He shook his head slowly, as if acknowledging the events of the past. “Yes, I…never left. I stayed, and I fought for a place in the industry. I went to hundreds of auditions, knowing what the papers were saying about me.”

The word slipped out before you could stop.

“Why?”

He held you captive in his stare for a minute, releasing his folded arms. Sensing his next moves, you gave him the bottle. This time was the longest swig before he held it to his chest. 

“Because I deserved it. Because I knew I deserved better than what I was given. Nobody should dictate my fate.”

The grave earnestness of his gaze made you unable to respond. “And nobody should dictate yours either.”

Maybe if you were sound of mind, you would have accepted defeat. Listened to the ends of his declaration, and basked in the late-night silence.

However, something in you had to confess your true feelings.

“I want everything back to normal.”

Your vision blurred slightly. “I just want to act again…I didn’t realise how much I missed it…” You took the bottle, the contents less than half. “You say that I cannot let people dictate my fate. Acting is what I want. But these people are stopping me.”

You gulped down the alcohol, helping little to soothe your nerves. “I want to be in front of the cameras, and become another person entirely. Is that even normal?” A scoff. ��I mean, I am an actress, but…recently the urge to be someone I’m not is so tempting.” Another swig. “Maybe if I could just become my character in some long-ago comedy, some flighty heroine out of my previous romance…maybe then I will not be so hated. Maybe then I can live someone else’s destiny.”

Your hands swirled the wine which was left, fingers tightening around the neck. “People don’t fall in love with the actor. They fall in love with the character. People never truly loved me, Jeonghan, they loved what I created for them. Call me sick and twisted, but I want to be loved like that again.”

The man listened, feeling his chest tighten at your confession. He dared not say a word, though, lest you stopped—lest you hid yourself from him.

“I want to be loved again, Jeonghan. So what if it isn’t real? It was real to me.” A ragged sigh escaped your lips. “Alas, these people do not want me anymore…and this is what I have to accept. That is my fate.”

As you made your tongue rest from your rambling, you did not notice Jeonghan furrow his delicate brows, frowning at the words which rested within the room. 

He could not have this be your resolution.

“_____.”

You did not respond, drinking. 

“You can be loved again…if you just accept it.”

Smacking your lips together, you brought the bottle his way. “Hmm.” 

You were tired—the wine had furthered your daze, and you knew if you took in another drop you would lose your senses. That could not happen; not when your ex-lover was seated opposite you, as drunk as you were, looking at you just as he used to all those years ago. That alone was amplifying your nerves. 

His voice was akin to the jazz that played at Moulin Rouge. “You want to know something?”

A lift of your chin. “What?”

Unfolding his leg, he leaned in, spreading his legs apart. “I didn’t love you for who you were on television…all those years back.”

You could not look away from his heavy-lidded eyes. “I fell for who you truly were. None of those roles that you played so well, none of those scripted interviews…nothing of that superficial nonsense. 

“I loved you. Only you.”

You felt the city go silent.

The cars that may have rushed past distantly had been quietened, the music from other rooms ceasing to play. Even the stars paused their twinkling, deathly still as they watched through your window the scene that awaited the two of you.

Your mouth parted.

It was all too much.

Suddenly, it was too much, too quickly—this man, seated before you, drinking wine with you, listening to you ramble as drunkards do. It was all too much. Too good, too beautiful, too precious. 

“Fuck.”

You shot up from your seat, chest rising up and down, needing to breathe in the room’s oxygen before you collapsed. “I must…” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “I must get more wine.”

He watched you stumble to your bedside again, he, too, standing. “Wait—”

“No!” you exclaimed, too instantly as you looked over your shoulder. “Just…wait. Stay where you are.”

You felt him stay put behind you—his eyes never left your back, though, as you continued your shaky way to the side table. Once again you knelt down, taking hold of the second bottle. 

All you had to do now was get up. 

Stand on your two feet, and face the history residing in your ex’s eyes.

I loved you. Only you.

Brows drawing together, you took a deep breath. Trying to calm your nerves.

It did not work in the slightest. 

Especially when your vision was blurring, and when you realised there were tears forming, there was no chance in the world that you could face him.

His voice slipped into your head.

“_____.”

You could not take it.

There was no leash to your tongue anymore. The words that had been bubbling to the surface could have no restraint—not when he said your name with a tenderness that you had been aching for years. 

So, as you slumped to the floor, bottle in hand—your back to the man who you owed too much—you blamed the alcohol in your veins as you exposed yourself.

“I missed you, Jeonghan.”

There.

There it was.

Out in the open, with nothing to undo it.

The actor, on the other hand, would have rather died than have you reverse such a declaration.

I missed you, Jeonghan.

His name on your lips set something alight in him.

He wondered whether he had dreamt up your confession.

You were both so drunk—he had seen you delude yourself, create stories in a booze-inflicted daze, and he would play along, because he could not be the person to shatter your illusion.

But now the roles were reversed. He must be dreaming, conjuring this fantasy.

It was his doubts that fuelled his question.

“What…what did you just say?”

He waited.

Waited for you as you gathered every atom of strength in rising, velvet skirts unfolding as you stood, unopened bottle in your gloved hand.

He waited as you gulped down the last of your bravado, slowly turning to face him—the shock which smacked his beautiful features had you spluttering your words again.

“I-I…I really missed you.” 

Jeonghan still had trouble believing.

Perhaps he finally understood the extent of your alcoholic troubles. Perhaps delirium was a symptom, but his fantasies were being extra cruel to him tonight.

So he took a hesitant step—two, three steps towards you. Each foot closer was hesitant, gentle, as if he was stepping on glass, terrified the world beneath him would shatter. You dared not move, fearful of your senses, as unpredictable as the emotions behind the man’s face.

When his shoes caressed the ends of your gown, he stopped himself. One more step, and he could be a hair’s length from you, 

He cocked his head, chest tightening. “Really?” he got out, quiet as the city beyond you.

You could barely breathe, but you made yourself speak—it was now or never. 

“So much.”

The actor’s curse was low—grating against his teeth.

This time, he allowed his gaze to dart over your features—the glazed, frantic eyes, the taut brows, anticipating his response. He wandered down to your lips, and could not help settling there for a moment. If he stepped a little closer he could taste the wine-stained confessions that settled on your mouth. The very thought had his insides singing. 

His heavy stare had your stomach surging. “Jeonghan,” you whispered. 

His hands flexed and unflexed, aching to reach out—more so when you said his name.

“I really want to kiss you, chérie.”

Your brows twitched upward. Instinctively, your eyes rooted to his lips, his tongue running across the bottom. You had half a mind to follow the trail with your own mouth.

“What’s stopping you?”

And as he took in your words, the true implications behind them—as his eyes locked with yours for a second, you knew then and there the answer to your question.

The answer, which Jeonghan bestowed as he closed the final distance. 

Your ex-lover wasted no time as he held your face in his shaking hands and enveloped his lips with yours. 

It was as if the entire universe sighed in relief. 

Although your lips had not touched his for years, the way they moved harmoniously with his would have made it impossible to prove such a claim. It was as if you were welcoming back a long lost friend from the wilderness, greeting an ancient connection, strayed from the threads of time. It was second nature to kiss him back, holding onto the lapels of his blazer as you pulled him closer. 

It was like the beginning of the decade once more, on similar, half-drunk nights like this when this exact dream of a man swooped you into midnight corners and stole the breath from your lungs. These memories began to unravel the more his mouth encircled yours, teasing you open, aching to explore you.

He repeated his antics of years ago, rendering you breathless. You did not pull away, holding onto his mouth as if he would leave you forever. His hands travelled down, resting upon the sides of your neck, caressing your skin, as he pulled away to your utter misfortune.

You gasped for air, only able to stand due to the iron grip on his blazer. “…missed you, Jeonghan,” you said once more, the soft confession fanning his lips, but you did not realise it. Everything was becoming a little blurred—a haze of events linking and unlinking, with the sole connection being the man you missed. 

Even though he heard you before, his gaze still softened. His thumb ran slowly along the wet seam of your lips, and your patience began to run thin. “I am…so glad you said that, chérie.”

And once more he was upon you, this time leading you further back until your velvet dress bunched at the side of the bed. His mouth never ceased its labour as he sat you upon the tousled sheets, as disarrayed as you as your hands travelled to his hair—your gloves robbed you of the feeling of his locks, as soft as the fabric covering your fingers. 

When he felt the silk of your gloves, he broke away from you, stunning to you a dumbfounded silence. He held your wrists, gently pulling you away from his raven hair, stroking the silk of your covering. “I want…” he was slowing his words, as if tasting each request that throbbed within his soul. “Off…I want this off…”

His words had you obliging him instantly. With your shaking hand—a trait he had noticed, and relished in—you slowly pinched the tips of the fingers, tugging back the silk till the glove was off. You flexed your now-naked fingers, almost embarrassed to see the man regard them as if you had stripped yourself bare before him. You would have done the second had his own aching hands not gotten your covered arm.

Jeonghan’s fingers were gentle, albeit a little clumsy, even as he tried to razor in his clouded focus upon the white silk. Slowly, but surely, he pulled on the fabric, and his eyes savoured the glove, smoothly sliding off your arm. 

Your skin was revealed underneath the moonlight, and you felt the actor’s tremble of his fingers as they enveloped one of your hands, raising it to his lips. His mouth was warm as he kissed your palm, finally able to revel in the warmth of your touch. The action was so intimate you had to say something, anything, but before you could even open your mouth, his heavy stare raised to yours, and had you falling completely silent.

His eyes darted upon your Dior gown, completely without shame as he drank in the details of the dress, the diamonds, and how you carried the entire look—the moment you had stepped into Moulin Rouge, and now, in front of him, tousled with your stained lipstick, and a frantic stare rooted to him.

His gaze could have set you on fire as he held both of your hands, fingers never stopping their climb upward. 

“You look…truly divine in that dress.”

This time, you blamed the alcohol for the truth that escaped you as his hands held your face, urging you closer to him once more. 

“I wore it just for you.”

That was enough for him to curve the corners of his lip upward—even the devil could not feign the drunk pride that exuded from his smile. 

“I know, chérie…I know.”

And he dove straight back in.

This time, in the midst of his heated, smug kisses, you felt his tongue teasing along your lips, and your soul nearly abandoned ship. You could not open up fast enough, letting him slide inside, taste the wine that stained your own tongue. Your groans were broken as he swirled his tongue with yours, sucking slightly on it with his mouth, a dull throbbing inside of you which had not felt such pleasure in such a long time. They did not stop as he continued, smiling against your mouth.  

You were so wrapped up in him, enveloping him in your arms, even more desirable since you truly felt his hair underneath your fingertips. His locks were silkier than your gloves, softer than the velvet of your dress. There was no room for space between you two, you half in his lap with every inch closer you had crept in between heated touches. You wanted him all over you, more so when, with a carnal desperation, he pushed you further into the sheets. Breaking away from your mouth, he planted open-mouthed kisses upon your jaw, trailing slowly down. 

His fingers crept upon your waist, trying to feel you under this dress, trying so ardently to break you out of it. You could not believe that you would have damned your precious Dior to bare yourself before him, broken your diamond necklace to allow him better access upon your neck. The delirium caused by the alcohol morphed into delirium caused by his hands, his mouth, his incoherent mumblings, praising you, relishing you. 

At this point, even you could not contain the voices of pleasure that slipped out of you, sighing softly at every touch of his lips upon your skin. “Jeonghan…” you whispered out, feeling an ache around your core. “Jeonghan, please—”

The said actor let out a soft moan at your pleading. “Please what?” Another kiss planted upon your neck. “What do you want?”

“I…” 

You! 

You! you wanted to say, because it was the absolute, unadulterated truth. You wanted him near you, on you, fuck, inside you. You wanted him desperately, more than all the riches you had craved for in your youth—perhaps, deep inside, you would have forgiven the loss of your fame if it meant you could be wrapped around your ex-lover forever. 

Yet the alcohol had your words all jumbled, mind all dishevelled. Your eyes could not even decipher the full clarity of his beauty before you, and you blinked back, trying to focus on his face. In the corner of your mind, fatigue began to appear.

But you remained stubborn. Held onto whatever part of his you could latch on to and whimpered, “I want you, Jeonghan.”

You took in the wildfire of lust that set ablaze in his eyes.

You could have jumped with joy.

Colliding against each other once more, you damned your concerns as you revelled in the actor’s hands, swiping up the heavy folds of your gown till your legs were exposed, the velvet bunching at your waist. He offered rest to your love-bitten throat, taking a peak at the black lingerie that was revealed, and his jaw going slack had you trying to close your legs in sheer embarrassment.

His hand upon your thigh stopped you. “Come on, mon ange,” he began, spreading your legs further apart. “Why be shy with me now?”

When you tried to avert his penetrating stare, his two fingers fell to your chin, turning you to him. “You said you wanted me, no?”

God. You decided to go limp underneath his touch, and he let out a rasping chuckle, settling between your legs. He leaned into you, his hair tickling your cheeks.

“Then have me,” he whispered. 

Fuck.

You were never refusing his order.

Jeonghan was about to slip past your slick underthings, take your lips with his own, ruin and salvage you upon the bed with no one but the stars watching.

That was when the loudest knocking you had ever heard thundered on the hotel door.

“_____! PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE INSIDE!”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your sockets, the actor’s head whipping to the entrance. 

“JESUS, _____, YOU BETTER NOT BE PASSED OUT ON SOME RANDOM STREET—!”

“Son of a bitch,” you got out, your fingers sagging down to the blazer. 

“Is that…” Jeonghan’s brows knitted in thought. “Seungkwan?”

The deafening knocking continued, pounding your head into aching. “Maybe if we stay quiet he will leave,” you mumbled. You, however, were well aware of the foolishness of such a suggestion.

The agent’s rapping only increased in tempo. 

“I HAVE A FEELING YOU ARE IN THERE! IGNORING ME!”

A dire shame that your friend knew you so well.

“Perhaps we should let him in.” You were met with a defeated stare, slight amusement staining his vision. “I fear he will kick the door down, and the Ritz staff will finally have a reason to throw you out.”

You groaned. “Jeonghan!” 

“JEONGHAN?! DO I SOUND LIKE FUCKING JEONGHAN TO YOU…In retrospect, that should be taken as a compliment…”

“Damn it,” you hissed, “Bastard heard me.”

When the beautiful, half-drunk man began to ease himself off you, his hands furthering from your lingerie, all the drowsiness that you had pent up completely vanished.

You were going to murder Seungkwan.

Heaving off of the bed, head pounding harder than the knocks on the door, you grabbed your skirts, thundering to the entrance of your hotel room.

Twisting the knob, you thrust open the door, finding your agent’s raised fist, ready to tear down the wood. 

He caught sight of your dishevelled appearance, and twisted his lips in a frown.

“What the hell took you so long!” he began shouting already, stepping past you and going inside. “I was beginning to think you had died—!”

He stopped—stared at your guest, who was as dishevelled as you were—noticed the lipstick stains on his usual coral mouth, glistening. Then, he whipped his head to you, noticing how your mouth was more swollen—as if it had been softly bitten. 

Seungkwan slapped his hands to his mouth.

“Oh, stop it!” you exclaimed, suddenly wishing the roof would fall on your head. 

The film noir star walked closer to the two, fixing his blazer. “Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said, raking his slender fingers through his hair. “We became a little…distracted.”

Your face burned hotter than the summer sun. “No, no! I need no apologies!” the agent immediately countered, raising his hands in surrender. “In fact, let me apologise for, um…stopping you both!”

“Oh, Jesus!” You pointed at the door. “Leave us already!”

“No, _____, it is alright,” Jeonghan assured you, glancing at the clock. “I fear I must leave anyway. If Seungkwan has just arrived back, then Joshua is probably still at Moulin Rouge, taking care of the press. I must let him know that you and I are fine.”

But you were glaring so violently at your friend that he could have squirmed. “No, no, Jeonghan, do not leave on my behalf! I will return to my room this instant!” 

He hurried to the doorway, turning back only to you. The implications of his scrutiny were clear. 

We will be talking about this.

“I must apologise again, Jeonghan, truly!” he called out once more, the tips of his ears turning crimson. “You both…carry on with whatever you were doing!”

Before you could cuss him out for such a suggestion, he was out of the room, cursing under his breath loud enough for the two of you to hear. 

At least it was not just yourself, experiencing those exact feelings. 

The room was much quieter—too quiet for you, now that you felt his presence near you, undisturbed by any more nosy agents. 

You bid yourself to speak. “So…”

His stare was upon you. “So.”

“You, um…are you really going back to see Joshua?”

He nodded, albeit more hesitantly. “Yes, I…I suppose I must show my face to the press or they will tear Joshua’s party to bits.”

“I see.”

You were exhausted. Even at that moment, when you finally turned your head to return his gaze, you knew that you were minutes away from collapsing to the floor. You had barely any strength left, the alcohol settled and refusing to leave your system. You could tell Jeonghan felt the same—with the way his cheeks flushed, his eyes darting to every feature of your face, your tousled dress. 

Even with the barrier of your slowly dying consciousness, you tried one last time to make him stay.

“Will you not finish what you started?”

The actor, instead of his usual, composed smile, grinned at you, a little more lopsided than he usually exposed. Even in his fatigued stupor, he could catch your incorrect taunt. 

He stepped closer to you. Close enough to reach out and take you in his arms should he wish it.

“Was it really me who started this, chérie?”

No—of course he was not.

“Besides…”

His hands reached out, holding your face in utmost tenderness.

“I cannot have you when we’re both like this.”

Your confusion had him explaining. “Look at us…we’re both so tired, and drunk, and…I tend to forget things if I take a glass too much at a party.” His thumbs stroked your cheeks. “I fear I might forget moments of tonight, too.”

You could not believe how that did not bother you. “So?” you asked quietly, holding onto his wrists. 

“So…I cannot accept it.”

“Why?”

There, at that moment, your ex-lover’s eyes darkened, ever so slightly. 

“Because I want you and I to be sober when I have you…I want you to remember my hands on your body, my tongue all over your skin.” His thumb inched closer to the corner of your mouth. “I want you to remember my fingers slipping between your thighs, one by one till you’ll beg me to replace them with my cock.”

Jeonghan’s finger ran along your spit-slick lips. “God, chérie, I need you to remember the exact moment when I’ll slide inside you, and make you beg for release.”

The words alone had a small whimper escaping your mouth. 

“Right now, we are both drunk beyond relief.” A small sigh left him, fanning your lips. “You will not even recall this conversation, let alone how much I want to fuck you.” 

He delighted at your reaction, your legs like soft jelly. “I cannot have that at all.”

If he was expecting you to respond, he was sorely mistaken.

All you could do was gape at him, drinking in the words that have left his mouth.

Your silence allowed him to pull away, slowly making his way to the door. 

He was nearly out of your room when you finally found your voice. 

“When will I see you again?”

He looked over his shoulder.

You hoped with all your heart that you would remember the promise in his smile. “Sooner than you think…if you will allow it.”

You returned his mirth. “Good.”

And that was all you needed—he, too, sensed it, and bid you a sweet, slurred adieu before leaving the premises. 

As you closed the door after him, trudging back to your bed, you caught sight of your silk gloves, settled on the sheets. 

Instinctively, you bit your lip. 

The actor was mistaken.

Because no matter how drunk you would have been, even more so than you were now, you would not be able to forget it had he crossed the final boundaries.

You would have remembered every detail he said you would not.

And although, in any normal circumstance, your memory had never served you well, at least it excelled in one matter.

You knew that, at the end of the day, Yoon Jeonghan could never be forgotten.

Especially by you.

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 11TH OCTOBER,1954

YOON JEONGHAN ONCE AGAIN DOMINATES ALL THE PRESS TOURS FOR NEW MOVIE!

You know it, readers! Our favourite superstar, Yoon Jeonghan, once again vows viewers and fans from all around the world with an exclusive new radio interview with French talk-show host Jean d’Arcy. He exposes a few details about his upcoming movie, his budding friendships with his co-stars, and charms the listeners with his witty answers! 

Many from the audience noticed how happy he has been ever since he stepped foot in Paris. He was all-smiles at the press shoot, and as well as lighting up the radio station during the interview with his joyous attitude. We at France-Soir are delighted to know that our city has brought such elation to the actor, but there is speculation that a romance may be in the works.

That’s right, readers! 

What we only need to find out is who managed to snag the most eligible celebrity in the world?

THE WEEK THAT WENT AFTER THAT FATED NIGHT WAS INDESCRIBABLE.

If there truly was a Lord that rested beyond the clouds of this atmosphere, then you would have very well fell to your knees and thanked Him for your reversal of fortune. It was as if the deities that controlled your life decided to cease their prejudices against you, and finally give you a taste of joy.

Never in your wildest fantasies did you think you would be fooling around with your ex-lover in your favourite place. Hell, if you got told that you would speak to Jeonghan again a month back, then you would have laughed at the messenger of such news and wished them the same misery you went through in your first weeks here. 

It was just so fun—away from prying eyes, hidden from the cameras. The two of you conducted secret meetings between his press tours, sneaking away from dinners to conjoin in moonlit corners, simply because the thrill of secrecy ignited the desire the two of you shared. What helped such stealthy rendezvous were the hours of your meetings—always after midnight, always leaving before the sun caught you both red-handed in each other’s arms.

Jeonghan did question the strange timings at the beginning, already certain of your answer. You tried to wave away his questions, but the beautiful bastard was persuasive. In the end, you confided your fear of being captured by the press, which confused him even further.

“Why are you so scared of the reporters catching you with me?” he had asked you one night, as the two of you shared a cigarette underneath the Arc de Triomphe. “If anything, won’t it help you if you’re seen with me?”

Your harsh chortling had him handing the cigarette to you instantly. You took a long drag, puffing out the smoke. “You may be untouchable, but I most certainly am not.” Tipping the ashes upon the pavement, you presented it. “My reputation is infectious, Jeonghan. The press would drag you down to my level.”

The man clicked his tongue, inhaling the tobacco. “Stop speaking about yourself like that,” he chided, “One scandal does not cause ruination.”

“I am right here,” you countered, your hands waving to your figure. “Ruined because of one scandal.”

“Well…” The corner of his lips quirked upward. “You haven’t had just one scandal.”

Your withering glare had him chuckling, smoke curling from his mouth. “No need to rub it in,” you muttered, taking the cigarette from him. 

“I’m only thinking of solutions here, darling.” He watched you lean against the stone monument. “You said you missed acting, no?”

You nodded, taking a drag. “Then have you responded to any casting calls recently?” he asked you.

Your smile was weak—weaker when the actor tutted. “I am trying, I promise!”

“Are you?” He received the cigarette once more. “I cannot say for the day calls, but I can confirm you haven’t attended any night auditions.”

“I have you to blame for that,” you mumbled, “Wasting my nights.”

The quirked brow that welcomed you had your stomach fluttering. “Wasting your nights, am I?” he repeated, the sultry baritone furthering your nerves. “Perhaps I should inform those journalists of my location…”

“You wouldn’t dare!” you immediately snapped, which had the man grinning “You know what, maybe it is time to put an end to these meetings!”

Jeonghan’s malicious stare only enhanced his amusement. “As you wish, mon ange,” he purred, taking a last drag before dropping the butt of the cigarette to the pavement, snuffing it out with his boot. “I will find some other disgraced actress to entertain at this hour.”

The scoff that escaped your mouth had him unable to contain his laughter. “Fine! But you won’t find a better disgraced actress than me, I can tell you that!”

You were so caught up in your petty temper that you did not notice your ex stepping closer, arms reaching out. When his hands slithered about your sides, pulling you closer, you blinked back to find him gazing down at you, his smirk softening. 

His locks nearly caressed your cheeks. “You know I want no other, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but the battle of restraining a smile was bound for defeat. “Of course,” you said, sarcasm clear in your voice. 

“Plus,” he added, drumming his fingers upon your clothes, smirk morphing once more, “After fooling around with the most disgraced actress in Hollywood, how could I seek scandal somewhere else?”

Your smile then became a flash of teeth. His laughter resonated around the Arc as you pushed him from you, crossing your arms as you seethed at him. “Ass,” you could only say, because everything else merely accentuated his delight.

Even that night ended on a sweeter note, despite Jeonghan’s attempts to get you to audition more frequently. At first, you thought that your greatest nightmare—another Seungkwan—had come alive, but at least he still retained the incessant pestering that only your agent had mastered so irritatingly well.

The rest of the week had managed to sail smoothly enough. 

Although you had still not seen Jeonghan as much as you would have liked, a part of you was delighted that he had not changed at all. With every conversation, every taunt, you were reminded of the glory days—when you two had first entered the relationship in your late teens, both novices in the acting field, and one look at him confirmed your suspicions of his genuinity. Of course he had matured—five years does tend to shift one’s youth—but even with that time between you two, his youth had not disappeared. It was almost masked beneath his charismatic demeanour, the image he conveyed to the public.

At least, with you, he shared a bit of himself.

With his premiere creeping closer upon him, he had to prepare, so spent a few less evenings with you than you had anticipated. You could not blame him, obviously, for investing that time in his upcoming movie, but a part of you wished that you could have been involved. Not that you needed to participate in his project, but hearing him excitedly recite the future events always had you biting the inside of your cheek, swallowing down the slight tinge of jealousy that stains your tongue.

It made you want to invest in yourself.

Was it not Jeonghan’s words, that you should not let others dictate your destiny? 

Yes, you were still doubtful of such a powerful declaration, but being in his presence made you want to try.

And trying, at this stage, was more than enough.

So, carrying out your ex’s suggestion, you let Seungkwan know of your new dedications, and urged him to find more auditions in the city. The man could not believe your changed attitude, but when he began to poke fun at it, you sent him a glare so withering he shivered out of your hotel room.

Despite your agent being the greatest son of a bitch known to man, he was damned good at his job—within the week, he disclosed to you information that had your jaw falling to the floor.

“A Choi Seungcheol film?!”

Seungkwan lifted his chin in pride, smirking in self-satisfaction. “Let’s say your agent has not lost his lustre yet. I still have my connections.”

“I must say, I’m impressed.” You waved your hands at him, sizing him up. “All this time, I wondered whether I had wasted my money on you.”

His expressive vanity faltered. “That better be a bad joke, _____,” he jeered, handing you the documents relating to the role. “The script has not been fully finalised, but Seungcheol’s assistant informed me that it’s very hush-hush at the moment.”

Taking the papers, you gave them a skim-over. “Why are they doing the auditions in Paris?”

“They said something about wanting to film the first locations in the city. I think the movie is set here.”

That had your excitement increasing. “Even better.” You looked at him, smiling. “Thank you for this.”

Seungkwan shrugged, but he returned your mirth. “Just doing my job.” He glanced at his wrist-watch. “Now, I must leave you. I have a sweet little date in an hour.”

If you thought landing a prestigious audition in your state was shocking, then that piece of information rocked you to your core. “You? On a date?”

A sour look. “Why did you say it like that?”

You raised your hands in surrender. “No, you’re right, I’m just…” You grinned, watching him inspect himself in your mirror. 

“What? Shocked that I don’t dedicate my entire life to your failing career?” Your agent scoffed. “If I’m sinking with your ship, let me at least indulge in my last moments.”

“Oh, please!” you mocked, joining him in the mirror. “I let you have fun!”

“For the sake of decorum, I will keep quiet,” he muttered. “And anyway, why berate me? Don’t you have a date with Jeonghan tonight?”

That you could not argue against. “I wonder where he’ll take me,” you thought out loud. 

“As long as I don’t see you both,” he said, fixing his waistcoat, “I will be satisfied.”

An incredulous look. “I hope your date doesn’t show up.”

“I hope the press ruins your night.”

“That was too far!”

“Do not expect rosy praises from me.” He turned around, tucking his blazer closer. “I am not your ex-boyfriend.”

“Thank the heavens for it!” you proclaimed, walking to the door. “Now will you get out already? I have to prepare.”

“Fine, fine!” Seungkwan strolled to where you stood, the hotel door wide open. “Don’t forget to read over the details, all right?”

“Yes, yes, I know!” you rushed, almost pushing him out. “You have a good evening!”

“Don’t forget!” he only exclaimed back before exiting the room, leaving you to your newfound knowledge. 

A chance to work in a Seungcheol production.

This could change your life.

Although you never had the chance to work with him in your career, the director had gained unimaginable fame for his movies. He had always been in demand in the industry before you became an actress, but after one blockbuster after another, every actor, even outside of Hollywood, wished for a chance to work in his films. 

The thought stayed in your mind throughout the day, comforting you through the evening, capturing your attention even when Jeonghan arrived to pick you up in the middle of the night. It was almost four in the morning, the usual time of your meetings, a time you had insisted on.

Sneaking out of the hotel, you instantly rushed into the familiar Bentley, car-door already open for you. Seeing the film noir star seated had you instantly lighting up. His hair was tied back in a small ponytail, flyaways framing his face as he released his hands from his leather jacket, a simple white shirt peeking out from the black exterior. He unfolded his legs at the sight of you, a dazzling smile morphing his coral lips. 

Leaning in, he held your chin and kissed you softly, humming against your mouth. Although it only lasted a few seconds, your head still spun as he broke away, licking his bottom lip. 

“Evening,” you got out in your daze. 

His effect on you had him incredibly smug. “Good evening,” he responded, stroking your chin with his thumb. “Are you ready to go?”

When you nodded eagerly, he pressed his lips upon yours, smiling against you. Breaking away, he straightened in his seat, ushering the driver to begin driving. Obliging instantly, the sleek vehicle drove out of the Ritz’s circle, reaching the main roads.

“Where are you taking me tonight?” you asked him as you observed the Seine, lapping against the banks. 

“Guess.”

Your mouth pressed in a line. “You know that I am terrible at guesses.”

“This, actually, is a very easy guess.”

You glanced at him, the city around you turning greener with the excess of trees, more and more appearing the closer you drove to your destination. “I will wait till we reach this mysterious place.”

Turning from the great gardens, the car crossed a great bridge, the Seine residing underneath the stone. Once crossed over, the ride began to slow, stopping just before the huge stretch of lawn, cut off from the car window. You would have looked out from your own window, but your view only offered the river, the real destination at Jeonghan’s side. 

The man stepped out from the vehicle, circling around to open your door. You eased yourself out, about to thank him when you turned to where he brought you.

Your head tilted up to take in the full sight of the Eiffel Tower.

It surprised you how tall it really was—you should not have been, considering you had seen it countless times in the past, but for some reason, you had forgotten how overwhelming the landmark was. A rush of breath escaped you, staring and staring at it as if it had just graced its presence this moment, and not over sixty years ago. 

Your ears caught Jeonghan’s French, muttering orders to the chauffeur to stay put, nearing you once again. “Let’s go,” he said, sliding his hand into yours. 

He led you away from the quay you both stood upon, boots touching the freshly-cut lawn of the Eiffel gardens. The only sound around you two was the autumn whistles of the wind, and the soft crunch of the grass beneath your feet. 

As you both walked closer, you turned to him, asking, “You’re not taking me up there, are you?”

Jeonghan’s eyes were rooted to one of the entrances, situated at either footing of the Tower. “So you’re good with guesses, after all.”

“But it’s closed.” You looked around, spotting some people working around the east pillar. “Aside from the workers there’s no one else around here.”

The actor tutted in a melodramatic fashion, tugging you to walk to the others. “Poor, sweet fool,” he began, swaying your enclasped hands, “Have you still not understood the benefits of being with the most famous man in the world?”

You could only shake your head at him. “Rubbing your advantages in again, I see.”

“Not rubbing them in,” he clarified, “But allowing you to exploit them.”

“Of course,” you said, fighting back your mirth. “Well, let’s see how this is going to work.”

The people that were overlooking the entrances perked up at the two of you, one of the women walking up. “Bonsoir, Monsieur Jeonghan!” she greeted.

“Bonsoir.” He eyed the tower looming right above them. “I made a special request to be taken up tonight.”

“Oui, oui, I remember…on the phone!” Excitement spilled from her features. “Pardon me, but I’m your biggest fan!” 

The man gave her a smile, thanking her profusely. She then turned to you, eyes widening. “Mon dieu…_____?”

You don’t know why that unnerved you. “The very same.”

Her gaze darted between you two—down to your entwined fingers. “Oh…” The shock that spread her face had you almost repelling your hand from his. “Certainement pas! You are back with her? After so long?” 

Her heightened questions attracted the attention of her colleagues, who were all surprised to see the two of you side-by-side. “It must be what? Trois? Quatre? Non, five years!”

You shifted on your feet, hand involuntarily tightening against his. When he sensed your growing discomfort, he opened his mouth, raising his hand to stop the incoming questions. “You must excuse us, but we don’t want to discuss these topics.” He then gestured to the Tower entrance. “We would appreciate it if you could take us up.”

The workers did not look like they were done with their inquiries, but of course, they had to comply with the actor’s wishes. “Bien sur…of course,” the first woman assured him, ushering the two of you forward. “Please, follow me.”

The Tower employees helped you through the security railings, slipping into the iron pillars. You were entered into a silver lift, lightbulbs sparking to life as you all went up. You stayed close to Jeonghan as the grating noise of the elevator continued, the guide watching you both intently.

You knew that the Eiffel Tower had two floors, but when you went past the second, you asked the woman. 

Jeonghan answered for you. “We’re going to the very top.”

Once you reached the final level, the lift door opened, leading you to a tightly-spaced, curved hallway, the views from below peeking beyond small holes of the container. A set of stairs greeted you, and as your foot landed on the first step, your date thanked the woman, letting her know that she may stay on deck. 

“Non, non, I understand! You need privacy with your…amourette, non?”

Amourette. A fling. 

He smiled, but this time it did not reach his eyes. “Oui…you may come back in a couple of hours.”

Nodding in acceptance, the guide went back into the lift. Once he saw her descend, he joined you as you both went up the stairs. 

You noticed his slight frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” He shook his head absent-mindedly. “Oh, nothing.” He reached the top of the stairs, you following suit.

You were going to pester him further when the view hit you.

It was as if the entire world lay beneath your feet.

Beyond the thin, criss-cross railings, keeping you back, you beheld the entirety of Paris underneath you. Familiar landmarks, the loops of the Seine, entire buildings packed within ordered streets, etched a story before you. It was as if some great, god-like painter had outlined languid brushstrokes to depict the soft current of the river, carved out marble to erect the tall buildings in each square, brought out the finest tools to detail each and every tree, gallery, monument that your vision could create. Dazed, you walked along, fingers touching the railing as you spotted the Louvre, nestled in the walls of its Palace, the Moulin Rouge, all the places that acknowledged your presence, tasted your enjoyment, relished your memories. 

You did not realise how much you fixated on the view till Jeonghan’s voice made you jolt. You whirled around, and found him holding two champagne glasses. “Where did you get those?” you asked him. 

He jerked his head to the right—a small bar greeted you, about a dozen unopened bottles stacked neatly along the bar surface. “I had them bring the drinks out for us.”

“You really know the way to my heart!” you exclaimed, grabbing one glass from him. 

“I should hope so,” he murmured, walking over to the bar, taking out a bottle of champagne. He set the glass down, grabbing a corkscrew. Popping open the cork, a fizz of alcohol sputtered from the top, you inching back from its trail as it stained the iron deck. Once it fizzled out, filled your glass, topping his own before putting the bottle back on the bar. 

Taking a sip, you turned back to the glorious view. “Paris truly is beautiful,” you said, gazing over the horizons of the ageing night. “I think I forget sometimes, but tonight…”

“Hmm…truly sensational.”

But you knew he was not looking over at the city’s horizon.

Cheeks heating, you avoided his stare, looking at your treasured place. 

The two of you spent the next hour sipping your champagne, walking the full circle to take in every inch of Paris and her slowly waking citizens. Soon, bored with your current drink, you tried several bottles from the collection—from the rarest red wines to spirits, careful not to indulge in too much alcohol lest you ruin your night with your drunken stupor. 

It must have been a while before you informed Jeonghan of your recent good news.

He was over the moon.

“This is amazing news!” he proclaimed, raising his glass. “To you and the revival of your fame!”

“I don’t know about that,” you said, sipping your wine. “I mean, it’s just the audition. It’s not as if I’ve been offered the part.”

“Well, I know you’re going to get it,” he insisted. “You are the best actress I have seen in cinema.”

You kissed your lips, finishing your drink. “Now you’re just saying things.”

“You know I don’t just say things.”

That you did.

“Oh well,” you started, walking over to the bar. “I hope I do get the role, if only to shut everyone up.” You topped up your glass. “God, did you hear what that woman said of me? You are back with her?” you parrotted, amplifying the venom in your words. 

Jeonghan heard much more from that guide’s lips, too, but he did not share them with you—you did not need another comment to torment you. 

“The nerve,” you muttered, drinking your wine. “I will never forgive the press for the stories they made about our relationship.”

That comment had the actor pausing. He looked down at his rosé, swirling it in his glass. 

He wished he could say something about your declaration—in truth, the blame could not have been brought at the media’s door for the ending of his relationship with you, all that time ago.

But you were with him here—basking in his presence, drinking his alcohol, laughing at his jokes. Maybe another time, he will resort to difficult conversation.

So he only waved you off. “Don’t mind them, _____. What matters is that you and I are here now.”

“Yes, but…” You regarded the view. “This was the first time you and I were seen properly together and something was said about me.” You could help the sharp exhale. “It’s just…what would happen if we went out in daylight? When the whole world is watching us, judging us?”

He listened to you, taking in your concerns. He stepped closer to you, standing side-by-side, shoulders grazing against each other. 

As he watched the entire world—the world that only the two of you could see—he sipped his drink, letting his heart speak for him.

“Then we’ll damn the whole world together.”

You turned to him—but he was staring at the horizon, a sliver of sunshine peeking from its lining. 

You could not breathe. 

“Jeonghan…”

“Do you know why I brought you here today?”

Your hands interlocked with each other, holding the flute. “Was there a specific reason?”

He clamped his lips together, dipping his head. His hand reached out to the railing, pointing at the sun, shy, hesitant in its rise. The rays slipped out from the horizon, peeking out from the thousands of buildings that tried to hide it. “You see the sun?” We haven’t seen it together since we’ve reunited.”

Watching the day endeavour to begin, your confusion had you questioning him. “So?”

A moment had to pass before he continued. “Don’t you ever want to see me in the daytime?”

“Of course I do, but…” you pressed your lips in a thin line, swirling your drink. “I couldn’t take what they’d say about you and me.”

“I could take it for you,” he murmured. “If you would let me.”

Your next intake of breath was hitched—sharp. “They already say too much about me, Jeonghan. I cannot let you be a victim to it too.”

His nod was hesitant.

If only you would understand that he did not care.

He did not care a single a bit should the cameras caught him with you. Hell, he would have pressed his aching lips to yours, give them something to really talk about. 

He had to confess his growing desperation.

Sneaking around with you gave him great joy, but watching the sun’s light shine on your face, illuminating your skin…the sight brought him happiness the likes he had not felt in a long, long time. Perhaps you were not aware of it, but in his eyes, you were too talented, too brilliant to be hidden away in the shadows—be it the darkness of his favourite city.

You were always meant to be admired.

Swallowing the lump of cowardice, lodged within his throat, he reached out, holding onto your hand. 

Perking up, you gaped at his fingers enveloping around yours before focusing on him. 

“Whatever the tabloids write about us, whichever reporter takes pictures of us…it’ll all be in vain.”

His thumb gently stroked the back of your hand. “I lost you once before, chérie,” he muttered, voice lowering.  

“I cannot lose you again.”

Your heartbeat paused.

Halted for a few moments, dazed at the words that left the actor’s lips. As if time had mellowed twice over, you blinked back at him, each caress of his thumb sparking you alive. 

His gentle, melancholy gaze locked with yours. 

In that second, atop the highest peak in Paris, you witnessed the sun, now rising with more confidence, spill its light upon its subjects. The most special of those subjects, right before you, received its brilliance, lighting the dark irises of his eyes, making his skin glitter. In these moments, you let yourself forget that you were a disgraced, unwanted actress, harbouring feelings for a man who was supposed to be unattainable. In that singular moment, stretching to a thousand years, you believed in him.

In a world filled with lies, rumours and deception, you clung onto the one figure of truth.

Never had believing in a person been so easy.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, gravitating closer to him. His name fanned his lips, and he broke the seam, gazing down at your mouth.

“_____,” he said right back, tenderly—desperately. 

You closed the fine distance.

Enveloping his lips with your own, his elated hums escaped him as he melted onto you, letting go of your hand and encircling his own around your waist. The kisses he had shared with you were ravenous, always aching to fill the absence of years between you, but this time, the burning fires had been soothed, mitigated by the movements of your mouth, slotting perfectly against him. His stray curls caressed your cheeks as he angled his head, delving deeper into you, savouring the way you tasted.

Perhaps you both would have stayed forever in this position, high above the prying eyes, but now the sun had left its sanctuary, shining brightly upon you two. You made yourself pull away, empty glass in hand as you clutched onto his leather jacket. 

You allowed yourself to confide in him as you said, “I liked it, you know.”

A teasing quirk of his brow. “The kiss? I sure well hope so.”

“That too, but…” You ticked your head at the view of Paris, and the sun shining upon it. “Doing this at dawn. I missed how you looked in the daylight.”

Jeonghan wished there was a way to capture such a precious comment and store it in his heart forever. 

He was about to say something when he heard rustling from beyond the stairs of the entrance. Gaze straying beyond yours, you, too, turned around, finding the guide at the foot of the steps.

“Ah, oh!” She exclaimed, witnessing your affectionate moment. “Désolé, sorry, sorry! I just wanted to let you know that the Tower will be opening to the public in a couple of hours.”

“Right,” the actor responded, his hold on you steady. “We’ll be with you shortly.”

As the guide scurried away to the lift entrance, a short huff of breath escaped you. “I wish we could have spent the day here as well.”

Slowly, as if it hurt to do so, he retracted his hands from your waist. “I know,” he agreed, taking your empty glass from you, setting them both atop the bar.

“Are you not important enough to rent out the Eiffel Tower for the whole day?” you drawled, earning scoffed laughter from him.

His fingers grazed your back as he led you down the stairs. “Next time, you can be responsible for our destinations.”

“I hope you will be satisfied with my hotel room, then,” you countered, smile never leaving your lips as the two of you entered the cramped deck, finding your way into the lifts once more.

The woman was there, closing the railed doors as the elevator began to go down. Her indecipherable gaze was upon you both, never quite leaving. “Monsieur, did you enjoy the views? She asked, hands locking in front of her.

“I have never seen anything so beautiful,” you thought out loud, already missing the skyline vision of the city. “I’ll be sure to return.”

All you received from your review was a hesitant smile. When Jeonghan agreed with you, her face lit up, as if Christmas had been announced a month early.

You furrowed your brows.

The way she acted around you was incredibly strange. Whenever you caught her looking at you, she would instantly avert your eyes, but you could not mistake the traces—hell, dollops of dislike that filled her gaze. You held onto Jeonghan’s hand a little tighter, scowling at the obvious favour for the actor before you. 

So you had your disapprovers beyond the media here. 

The lift down took another fifteen uncomfortable minutes, the only distractions being your date’s comments on the Tower, or his questions to the guide. Once you all arrived at the ground floor, the elevator doors opened, entering the welcome halls. 

“Enjoy the rest of your day!” the woman chirped at the man. She offered you a smile which did not reach her eyes. “Toi, aussi.”

Hmph. “Thank you,” you mumbled, Jeonghan dipping his head as the two of you made your way through the halls. 

As you heard a slight commotion from outside, you furrowed your brows. “Why is it so loud outside?” you asked. “Isn’t there still an hour till the Tower opens?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” he said, unable to check the windows too for the shutters were down. “Ah, well, it’s still early. I don’t think anyone will see us.”

Spotting the doors of the entrance, the two of you pushed them together, ready to return to your lives. 

That was when the worst possible drawback welcomed you at the foot of the pillar.

“Oh my fucking God—”

“There they are!”

“Finally!”

The mass of journalists scurried for their cameras, all their faces revealing the same shock as you and your ex-lover.

The cameras were raised, like zombies from the ground. 

You were offered one millisecond to blink back at the hundred black lenses, shutters snapping open. 

That was when chaos began.

Chaos, pure, tyrannical anarchy as a hundred click! click! clicks! of the cameras attacked you, accompanied by the saturated, white flashes. The flashes were the worst, making you cry out in surprise as you hunched over, like a criminal caught red-handed at the scene of the crime, like a cheat caught in bed with another. 

The lights were blinding, hurting your eyes, but the clicking had frozen you completely. This was the sound of your nightmares, and they had caught up to you—there you were, with the man who had not seen your worst, hounded by the press and reducing you to a creature unworthy of having a date up the Eiffel Tower. Your hands, reflexively, slapped to your ears, trying to drown the sound out, but to no avail; the media was a relentless entity, and it had found you with the one man they never even dreamt would be beside you.

You were destined for ruination.

Suddenly, your breaths were being snatched away, and what was an action so natural became impossible to overcome. Each shuddered inhale became shorter, harder, and the journalists even gasped at the way your mouth slackened, trying to engulf the oxygen that simply was not there.

You were going to die—this was the end, and a spectacular end one at that, worthy of an actress as volatile as you had become. You would crumble and collapse before the most famous man in the world, and he would watch in horror as a hundred journalists captured every moment of your suffering.

Among the hysteria of a thousand snappings of the shutter, and a million flashes of the lights, you felt a tug of strong arms around your shoulders.

A booming voice soared over the sea of cameras.

“Out of the fucking way!”

You did not have a moment to comprehend what was happening before the familiar hands on your arms propelled you forward—the wall of journalists split in half, making way for the seething actor, making your legs thunder down the pavement. You were not in control of your own limbs anymore. Completely at the will of another, your hands tightened against your ears as you heard orders to follow you. You did not listen to the murmurs of the man beside you, pressed against you as he led you out of the swarm of journalists. His eyes were razor-focused at the Bentley, stuck between the dozens of cars that had lined up against the quay. The trek was much slower, owing to the complete life-sucking shock you were experiencing, but if you and him could just get in the damn car—

“Jeonghan! Jeonghan, _____, just a few questions?”

“When did this romance revive?”

“Did _____ ask you out first?”

“Did _____ approach you?”

“Did _____ start this shocking relationship?!”

With every hateful question, Jeonghan’s rage grew.

For your sake, he kept his anger restricted in his gritted teeth and determined gaze, the car close enough to reach.

Wrenching open the car door, he nearly ripped it off its hinges, making his chauffeur jump at the start. “Get in, chérie,” he muttered to you, helping you inside, settling your curling mess beside him as he snapped the door shut. He turned to the man in the driver’s seat, voice booming louder. “We need to leave now!”

He did not have to repeat his order again.

Slamming his foot on the brakes, the chauffeur just managed to escape the horde of reporters, about to surround the vehicle. Instantly, you felt yourself jolt at the force of the car, undoubtedly breaking the speed limit as you were whisked out of the Eiffel Tower’s domain.

You, on the other hand, could not unhear the clicking.

The bright flashes tormented you in the car, not realising that your hands were still pressed upon your ears. Your breathing was still uneven, rasping out your mouth in hitched intervals, and if you curled anymore into yourself, you would have disappeared.

Perhaps that would have been best.

Jeonghan, endeavouring to calm himself from the reporters, took one look at your retreating figure.

His heart shattered in pieces.

Instantly his hands reached out, holding your wrists in his fingers, prying them away from your head. He tried to sit you up straighter, never letting go of you as he scanned your face, the lack of life prevalent in your features.

“_____….”

Your eyes darted to him. 

Jeonghan’s gaze began to twitch.

He turned to his chauffeur, already crossed the bridge over the Seine. “Take us to the apartment. We’ll be safe there—”

“No.”

He whirled his head to you.

Your stare had widened—slowly, you were shaking your head, gripping onto the bottom of the seat. “No.”

“_____, they are chasing after us.” He held your hand in both of his, trying to convince you. “They will not find us where I live—”

His speech was cut off when you repelled your hand from his hold.

“Take me back to the hotel.”

His brows knitted in confusion. “_____, they’ll know you’re there—”

“I don’t care.”

Your head still shook—your breathing was slowly normalising, but the complete lack of emotions in your eyes chilled the actor to the bone. 

“Take me back…now.”

He could only gape at you, his hands void of your presence.

Absentmindedly he carried the message to the driver, who then took the rigid turn into the Champs-Élysées, heading for the new destination.

The man endeavoured to gain a response from you, his own nerves rising from your heavy silence, not even deigning him a glance. The familiar, grand hotel was in view as the Bentley closened to the entrance, and your hand was already on the handle, anticipating the stop.

Jeonghan noticed instantly. “_____, wait—”

You did not wait for him to finish. The moment the car stopped, you hurled out of your seat. Slamming the door shut, you made to run into the entrances, biting down the urge to hold your face in your hands with every guest that watched your dishevelled appearance.

They were further shocked to find the film noir star getting out of the car, too, following after the likes of you.

His step was hasty, almost catching up with you when you whirled around, hand raised to stop him.

The look in your eyes made the man shiver.

“Don’t follow me in.”

With that, you turned your back to him, running past the grand doors of the Ritz. 

And even though every muscle in his slender body screamed at him to follow you inside, to the ends of the world, he could only stand still—mouth parted in shock, and eyes heavy with a loss.

The loss of a fantasy, and the possible loss of you and your faith in him.

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 12TH NOVEMBER, 1954

BREAKING NEWS: _____ _____ AND YOON JEONGHAN SPOTTED AFTER FIVE YEARS!

Who would have thought that you all would be seeing her name again? Not us! Well, we are about to rock your worlds when we give you this breaking news: once-superstar turned disgraced escapee _____ has finally come into view again, and with none other than her ex-lover Yoon Jeonghan!

That’s right—THE Yoon Jeonghan! 

The two lovebirds were spotted outside the Eiffel Tower, no doubt on a secret date, but their shocking relationship cannot be hidden any longer. Who would have thought, after nearly half a decade of zero contact, the two are tangled up in each other more than ______ was when she fist-fought her co-star! 

We are certain you all are wondering what has caused this absolute shocker of a reunion! Here at France-Soir, we have speculated that _____, unable to get out from her acting slump and continuous scandals, has come crawling back to our famed hero. Think about it—_____ on the fall, and Jeonghan on the rise—who would not wish their ex-boyfriend back in these conditions?

Readers have also expressed disappointment in Jeonghan for interacting with his infamous ex after so long. We assume that you are all concerned for his career, especially with the premiere of his upcoming movie just around the corner. 

Well, Yoon Jeonghan, if you are reading this (one can only dream!) then heed our advice—dump the phoney! Her scandalous reputation will only harm you. You would not want that again, would you?

This may be all we have for today, but not to worry, everyone. We will return with updates very soon. We have a feeling these two are only just starting.

YOU READ THE LAST WORDS OF THE COLUMN OF FRANCE-SOIR, CRUMPLING THE PAGES IN YOUR FINGERS.

With an uncontrollable rage, you ripped out the page, scrunching the page and throwing it across your room.

But that was not enough. 

Because the entire fucking magazine was riddled with no other news, pictures of yours and Jeonghan’s pure shock printed on every single side of the pages. 

You dropped the paper book upon the pile of dozens others.

Every single magazine in Paris had your picture upon it.

The disaster was upon you within two days. You knew you would not be able to escape it, but the exposition of you and the film noir star had rocked the world by storm. Every radio station, every television channel, every newspaper panel had written of you two being caught within the Eiffel Tower, all smiles and embraces. The public could not believe their eyes when they took hold of their preferred form of media, gazing or hearing the news. 

You and Jeonghan. The young lovers of Hollywood, doomed from the first time they ended their relationship, now continuing it once more. 

Although you anticipated the negative reaction, you were still shocked at the outpour of disapproval that came from the people.

Seungkwan, firstly, did not even wish to show you what others were writing of it, but he could not hide the truth from you for long enough. The outcries against you and your scandalous image, the lamentations against Jeonghan’s terrible decision to go along with the relationship you had somehow insisted on…that was not even half of the headlines. 

What surprised you the most was the protests against your ex-lover.

You had expected comments against you, but the complaints against your ex was something that threw you off. The negative reactions against his decision making, commenting on his poor choices, even going so far as to call him selfish for pursuing a relationship with you, especially with one of the biggest movies this year about to be released. You did not understand the responses that he received, since he was supposed to be untouchable. Even though you had predicted this would happen, it still did not lessen your shock. 

There was one element in common with all the complaints against him.

They still, in the end, placed the blame at your door.

Jeonghan should have known better than to become involved with _____.

Undoubtedly _____ was responsible for this relationship.

Why would someone like Yoon Jeonghan wish to reunite with someone like _____?

The last one stung for much longer than you wished.

Safe to say, in the days after your conflict with the press, you had not left your hotel room. 

When you first told Seungkwan of what had happened, you distinctly remembered the colour leaving his face. When he resorted to putting his head in his hands, you knew that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

It was bad enough to be caught in the busiest destination in Paris, but somehow the bastards in the media found out where you were residing at this moment—as of the past few days, the Ritz was hounded by the press everyday, waiting for you to come out, hand yourself to them like a sacrificial lamb. 

You were not going to let them win.

Whilst you were cooped into your hotel room, empty bottles plastered around you, you pondered on your situation. Paris as your sanctuary had been discovered, and was now being sacked. 

The evening had passed in the city, and you thought that the reporters were about to leave for the day when you saw the familiar Bentley driving in front of the entrance. Instantly you perked up, leaning into the window. 

With horror you watched as your film noir star left his car, snapping the door shut. 

His wavy hair was out, eyes hidden by the black shades perched on his delicate nose, a large trench coat hiding his slender figure as he strolled into the hotel, ignoring the million camera flashes upon him. His mouth was set in a hard line, his presence snuffed out as he faded from your view.

Fuck.

He was coming to see you. 

Suddenly, you whirled around to your room, in an even worse state than you last remembered. My God, he could not see you like this, visibly worsened since the last time he had laid his melancholy eyes on you.

Perhaps you could pretend you were not in the hotel.

The five minute wait from the entrance to your room was spent in such heart-wrenching anxiety that when the hard knocks on the door finally arrived, you jumped out of your skin, yelping out. 

There goes your original plan.

Taking a deep breath, hand resting on your stomach, you braved the steps to your door, shaking hand upon the knob.

You opened the door, facing the one entity you had been dreading.

One look at Jeonghan’s face, and you almost forgot everything that had happened.

His shades were off, revealing the shivering black pupils of his doe-like eyes, exposing such a panicked concern you could not help but part your mouth. He stood there before you, like a soul on its last threads of hope. 

He was going to say something when you heard the faint clicking of the cameras.

And then you remembered.

You remembered why you did not try to see him in the past days of this chaos; why you had resorted to surround yourself in these thick, 5-star walls, away from the world—away from him.

You steeled your gaze. “Why are you here?”

It was as if you had shot him. “Why…why am I here?”

But you turned your back to him, walking further into your domain. “You shouldn’t have come.”

His confusion had him absent-mindedly closing the door, following after you on instinct. “What are you talking about? I had to come, seeing as you won’t return my phone calls!”

Ah, yes. The constant ringing of your telephone in the past couple of days that you had dutifully ignored. You knew that it was no nosey journalists tormenting you, but the man you had feared to meet the moment the world realised where you truly hid.

You decided to evade his claims. “Those damned reporters have seen you now,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “Just you see what they’re going to write about in the papers tomorrow.”

Jeonghan’s voice had you near-flinching. 

“You think I give a fuck about the papers?”

On another evening you would have adored this comment—in another lifetime, where your every thought did not revolve around the flashing of the lights, the snapping of the shutters, and other people’s opinions.

“Of course you would say that!” you snarled, turning around. “Not that they’ve said anything about you!”

“Oh, they have said plenty about me,” he muttered. 

A scoff. “So you do give a fuck about the papers, then?”

The man’s coral lips pressed in a hard line. “I do not give a fuck when I have greater problems at hand.”

“What problems do you have, Jeonghan?” you demanded, taking a step closer. 

He matched your vigour. “I have this huge damned problem of why you are ignoring me.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” 

“Don’t…” he paused, taking a breath to steady his speech. “Don’t lie to me.”

You gritted your teeth. 

So it cannot be avoided. 

“Why did you take me in the daytime?”

He narrowed his brows. 

“What?”

“You knew this would happen,” you continued, agitation rising with each word that left your mouth. “You knew of my reputation, yet you still risked taking me out at dawn. Why did you decide the day and not the night?”

Your words left a horrible feeling in his stomach. “Don’t you find it strange? Meeting each other in secret like…like thieves?”

Your brows furrowed at that. “I don’t see it like that.”

“No?” He stared you down. “Then how do you see it?”

“We were being careful! So we do not get caught like we have now!”

“We have to act as if we have done something wrong…sneaking, creeping around, not even letting the day catch us.”

His groan was low. “What have we done? Choose to be with each other?”

“You know as well as I do that it is never as easy as that.” Your scowl was harsh, spoiling your features. “I told you the risks, Jeonghan, kept going on and on about what would happen should they catch us. Why did you do that to me?”

Jeonghan cocked his head, taking in your accusations against him. The furrow of his brow deepened, not quite believing what you held against him. “You…you thought I was trying to ruin your image? On purpose?”

“Well, no, but—” You clamped down on your lips, remembering memories from long ago, which were best kept far inside you. 

With his claim, though, you had to mention them—even if it hurt you. “I can see why you would wish to.”

“Why? Why would I wish to?”

“Because of what happened between us!”

Silence.

There—the first hints of the past.

You could have creased at his reaction.

“What the fuck?”

He was breathing out of his mouth now, narrowing his eyes. “How can you think that of me?” 

“Jeonghan, that’s not what I mean!” You pressed your hands to your hips, looking down at your feet. “I just—” Another sigh broke free, the truth aching in your throat the more it tried to escape. “I can understand if you did wish to expose me—”

The man’s scoff cut you off instantly. “I cannot believe you would suggest such a thing,” he snarled. “How can you bring such horrors from the past into this conversation?”

“Because this is the past repeating itself!” you exclaimed, your hands digging deeper at your sides. “Because we had this exact same conversation five years ago, and it did not end well!” 

“Oh my God!” His hand raked through his hair, trying to release his frustration into the poor, innocent locks. “Why are you still stuck to the ghosts of the past? I thought we had moved on from everything!”

“You might have moved on fine!” you corrected him, voice raising with each counter. “I have stayed in the same damned spot in LA, rotting when my movies didn’t do well, when the press would harass me, while you had everyone worshipping you!”

He blinked back at your exclamation. 

For the first time that evening, he felt unadulterated rage within his bones. 

“You know damned well I did not move on.”

You knew—of course you knew, but you were too fired up, thinking of the slander in the papers, the comments in the columns that haunted your every waking moment. You knew you were being unreasonable, but at that moment in time, you did not care one bit.

So you refused to restrict your cruelty. 

“You seemed very moved on to me!” you crowed, taking another step towards him. “Why, was it not mere weeks after our breakup that you shot to stardom, everyone in the world singing your praises?! You did not seem depressed at all!”

His voice was colder than the Alps. “Don’t talk as if you saw me in those months.”

“Of course I couldn’t! I was battling the same goddamn press that haunts me today!” You pointed your accusing finger at him. “You wouldn’t know what it’s like, to have your name slandered in every magazine, every television screen!”

“I wouldn’t know?! I wouldn’t know?!” Now he was walking up to you, a mere two feet from where you stood, shaking with anger. “You think I’ve forgotten how these fucking journalists came for me? Whose fault was that, huh?!”

You could not take this—he was ripping out the bandages of old wounds, and you knew that they had not healed. 

“Oh, so it was my fault?!” you screamed, slapping a hand to your chest. “I sent those reporters to your door?!”

“It was your fucking ex-manager who reported the news at that time! Or have you forgotten the details that don’t concern you?”

Your glare was laced with venom. “Now who’s clinging to ghosts?”

The harsh knit of his brows disappeared, face relaxing as he stared at you, almost as if seeing you for the first time. His head was quivering to the sides, almost shaking in disbelief. 

He had never looked so defeated in his life.

“Please don’t break my heart again, chérie.”

You blinked back.

Kept looking at him, listening to the plea that escaped his beautiful, drooping mouth. 

That alone could have broken your heart. 

“Wh-what…” your voice was barely a whisper. “What do you expect me to do? Pretend I am okay with…with all this?”

The shouting of the journalists was still prevalent in your ears, as well the encircling of the cars—waiting for the two of you to come out. 

You continued, void of life. “I cannot go through it again…you may have risen from the press five years ago but…I am still reaping LA’s consequences.”

A sharp tick appeared in the actor’s jaw. “So you punish me.”

Your eyes squinted, as if he sprayed you with acid. “I…” you gulped. “I have sacrificed too much, Jeonghan. You don’t understand.”

But he watched you, comprehending you perfectly. “No…no I do.” A smile morphed onto his face, a haunting quirk of his mouth that did not reach his eyes at all. 

“I was one of the sacrifices, no?”

You tried to snap back, rebuke him for such a claim.

Nothing came out.

Your breath hitched in your throat, refusing to let your white lie escape. You watched in horror as Jeonghan scoffed softly. 

“I—” you cursed, closing your eyes, trying to formulate your words, trying so ardently to not shatter his willpower. “You have to realise…back then…I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t l-love you…” A hard, shivering sigh. “My team that time, they said it was better for us to—”

“And what’s your excuse now?”

His interruption was barely a whisper.

“Who’s holding you back this time?”

You stared at him. Your hands tried to gesture to the torn up magazines, littered across your floor. “The world.”

“The world, huh? The people who torment you, this very minute?” He pointed to the window, where they could still be heard. “You choose them over me? Again?”

You had no answer to offer him. 

That was all he needed from you. 

He was nodding slowly, ever so slowly, and if you were not nervous before, you were riddled with anxiety now. Hesitantly, he turned, making heavy steps towards the door. 

You did not know why you tried to pursue him. “Wait, Jeonghan—”

His hands paused at the doorknob. You were going to reach for him, but he stepped past your hand.

He faced you one last time, his aching, sublime features now sombre. “I really thought, _____, that this time…it would be different.” 

His gaze darted over your features, as if he was never going to see you again. “Perhaps you were right…perhaps I was the one clinging to the ghosts of the past. I have learned my lesson.”

You could have burst into tears. 

But you only gaped at him as he opened the door. 

He looked over his shoulder. “I hope you find peace in your choice, chérie.”

With that, he left you, closing the door shut should you follow. 

And, five minutes later, as the snapping of the cameras grew louder, you whirled, running to your window. You watched your film noir star—your once actor thunder past the press, completely silent to the thousands of questions thrown his way about you as he swiftly dove into his car. 

Your glassy vision showed you his Bentley driving away from the Ritz entrance.

If only the reporters knew just where your hotel room was—then they could have captured a golden story for their papers. 

A perfect update to their awful story, because if they only looked up and saw you, then your tears would have been enough to deduce what had become of you and your ex-lover. 

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 26TH NOVEMBER, 1954

YOON JEONGHAN SPOTTED ALONE LEAVING MICHELIN STAR RESTAURANT!

Alone, we say! Was it not two weeks ago when the most shocking news of the year had been dropped upon you readers, and here he was on the streets of Paris, as dejected as a heartbroken fool? Ever since he left the Ritz, no doubt to talk to his heartbreaker, he has not been seen with _____ since. Perhaps he has finally caught onto his fans’ disappointment, and is expressing his apologies to you all!

As for _____, she has not been spotted outside. She has found her sanctuary somewhere else, but not to fret, everyone! We have our people outside of the hotel, and we will make sure to publish the pictures of her heartbreak too should she show herself to us!

NOTHING COULD SAVE YOU ANYMORE.

Whatever you thought you had with your once lover had seemed to cease completely. The infinite calls you had left him were ignored, and even showing up to where he was supposed to visit on press tours was not enough.

Once again, you had managed to land yourself in a ceremonious screw up.

You supposed that you should have been used to it by now. You were in this very city because of your infamous fuck ups, and your latest damage was almost irreversible. 

Seungkwan’s words fell on deaf ears.

Every morsel of food, every pint of alcohol could not fill the empty, hollow vessel in your heart, growing with each day without Jeonghan’s sultry murmurs entertaining your late nights. Almost comically, like the first few weeks in the city, you hid yourself away, the press a completely secondary thought to what plagued your every waking—dreaming moment. 

So you carried on with what you did best.

Shut yourself away in your hotel room, slowly withering yourself away in your mistakes. 

Why did you care so much about these fucking papers?

With every glass came another memory.

Please don’t break my heart again, chérie.

Yoon Jeonghan. The Yoon Jeonghan, the film noir superstar, bared his soul out to you, and you crushed it with no mercy.

Every single night you spent with this man, every single fleeting moment, you knew that perhaps you had felt the same. Of course, your self-destructing nature prevented you from ever achieving happiness, but even common sense begged you to reciprocate.

This time, your heart knew. 

But you had completely, fully, without a shadow of a doubt, fucked everything up.

The days of wallowing dragged on, and soon the only time you heard Jeonghan’s name was on the news, reporting of his last few nights in Paris before the end of his film promotions. Quickly you turned the television off, lethargically stumbling back into your bed before pulling the sheets over yourself, hoping the darkness would engulf you whole and eat you alive.

Of course, since the universe despised you more so than you thought, harsh rapping on your hotel door meant that you could never find peace, even within your pain. “Oh, fuck off!” you screamed in your broken rasp, hurting your head with the shrill volume.

“I’m not leaving this time, ____, open up!” a familiar voice drilled through, and you genuinely prayed for whatever entity torturing you to torture your dear friend too.

“I’m not opening the door, Seungkwan!” 

“You better, or I’m smashing it down!”

You merely scoffed, closing your eyes in hopes of sleep.

THUD!

Your eyes flew open.

THUD!

“I mean it!”

Groaning, you crawled out of the sheets, walking to the ramming door. You opened it much too quickly, nearly being kicked in the face. 

“Watch it, idiot!” you hissed, immediately retreating.

“I should kick you,” he greeted coldly, closing the door behind him as he fixed the strap of his satchel. Upon observing the worsening state of your room, he grumbled further, tossing aside the dirty dresses with his shoes. “God, I know you ruined your life, but could you not ruin this room? We still have to pay for this month.”

You knifed him with a look. “Cleanliness is the last thing on my mind.”

He looked as if he was biting back a remark, but thankfully reined it in. “Look, I would have gladly let you wither away in self-pity, but I came here today because of something important.”

Your eyes stilled on his face. “Has he reached out to you?” you asked, feeling incredibly foolish for the hope in your voice.

The sad turn of his mouth was enough of an answer. “I did try, ____. I hope you know that.”

A moment of silence. “I do.” You cleared your throat, hoping a lump won’t form and break your tone. “What was the important thing?”

“Oh, yes.” He sat himself down, glancing at the half-dozen empty wine bottles on your desk. “Right, so I know with everything going on, this is not the best time, but…”

He reached down to his satchel, opening the latch and fishing a collection of papers from the inside. “I got the script for the Seungcheol production.”

That immediately darkened your spirits. “I don’t feel like doing an audition at the moment.”

“Last time I remembered, you were a failing actress. Doing auditions should be your only concern.”

You hated how much that stung you. “I’m afraid I cannot be enthusiastic enough for you,” you snarled, sitting in the opposite chair. “Should I…oh, I don’t know, pretend I didn’t make the worst decision of my life and carry on as if nothing has happened?”

Seungkwan frowned. “_____, you know I am here for you, right? I understand that this fight with Jeonghan…I get it.” He sighed, bringing the papers on the table. “But I cannot see you wasting yourself away. You may not give a single shit about yourself, but there are others who do.”

A glance towards him. He was looking at you with a serious earnestness. “Look, this audition…it’s very important. I’ve already told you about the logistics, but should you get it…it could turn your life back around.”

You knew that—of course you were aware of the rewards of starring in Seungcheol’s films. Many young actors flocked to his auditions in hopes for a part, regardless of how important their presence might be in the movie. It was why Jeonghan shot to stardom, months after you ended your relationship. 

It was why you slumped further in your seat, hugging yourself tightly. “I don’t know…I feel like they won’t accept me.”

The man could see right through you. “If you’re worried about what’s being said in the papers, forget about it.” A roll of eyes. “Seungcheol is a moody, tight bastard, I can’t lie…but one thing I can say for certain. He is incredibly fair.”

He patted the documents. “If you truly impress him, he won’t care about the press. He will give you the part.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, still a little unsure. 

“So?” 

Seungkwan stood up, sliding his hands in his pockets. “What do you say?”

You stared at him, shuffling from side to side. 

You wanted to say no.

Outright refuse, and continue your indefinite journey to a slow, agonising death. What was the point in doing an audition that high-profile anyway? With A-list names involved, you doubted that the producers would take you on, considering your crippled reputation. 

But deep down, you knew you could not live like this forever. 

Observing your hotel room, the mess you resided in, you had an inclination that your funds were running dry. You did not realise the strain your agent was in, the hours he must have invested in trying to change your situation around. Admittedly, you had spent such a substantial amount of time being around, thinking about, crying over your ex-lover that you had forgotten why you were truly in Paris. 

If you could not act for your own sake, then you had to trudge on for Seungkwan’s—the poor man was already certain you planned a theatrical show of murdering yourself in the name of woe.

Your stare was unshaken as you pinned it on the papers.

Undoubtedly the lines for the role.

“I’ll do it.”

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 2ND DECEMBER, 1954

YOON JEONGHAN ABSENT FROM LAST NIGHT’S BIG PREMIERE!

Two-time Academy winning actor, heart-throb and biggest star to date Yoon Jeonghan has brought us yet another shocker since his sighting with his scandalous past-amour, _____. As his upcoming movie premiered spectacularly in the central city, spectators were greatly disappointed to find that the main attraction was not there to greet them with his signature, enigmatic smiles. When asked why his fellow co-star is absent, Vernon Chwe talked of a sudden illness, and asked his fans to send him well-wishes. 

We wonder, just like our readers, whether this illness is a true, unfortunate circumstance for our poor star, or whether it is a coverup to continue his shocking meetings with his ex. Not to worry, everyone, because we will find out soon enough!

YOU WERE SURPRISED THAT YOU HAD NOT THROWN UP ON THE WAY TO YOUR DESTINATION.

Palais Garnier was not as far as you had imagined—only a ten minute walk, but because of recent events, you decided to take a cab there. It was already frightful enough that journalists camped out at the Ritz, waiting for you to come out at any point in the day. Fortunately for you, the auditions were being done hours before dawn, so most of the city was already asleep—even the people with cameras that pestered you to no end. 

It did seem bizarre to hold the calls at such late an hour, but Seungkwan had warned you of the infamous director’s customs. The late hours did not bother you, though, when you had become accustomed to staying awake when the sun was long gone.

Even with the security of a car, you covered yourself from head to toe—your face was half-masked, hair wrapped in a scarf. Your collared shirt shrouded you to your wrists, black trousers donned as your skirts had become too troublesome. Anxious in your minutes-long ride to the destination, you clutched the papers, reading your lines over and over. It was not too useful at this point, when you had memorised not only yours, but of the love interest as well, but repeating the dialogues in your mind was the only action that stopped you from losing your mind. 

When the driver stopped before the grand building, you paid your fare, getting out of the vehicle. No one recognised your mysterious figure, so you allowed yourself to look at where specifically the auditions were being held. The Palais Garnier was a truly spectacular sight—the classical opera house towered over you, every inch akin to a palace as the off-white columns sat atop thinner, circular columns. The European masters of the art and music had their figures sculpted in between the first floor, minor gods of instruments and melodies at eye-level with you. Gold statues of Harmony and Poetry, accompanied by Pegasus, watching over your tiny figure in comparison to their hind, glorious bodies, high above atop the roof. The light teal dome settled in the middle, Apollo settled at the top of the point, holding out his golden lyre, stone-cold eyes watching over your nervous steps.

You had half a mind to cower away, but you reminded yourself that they were just statues—lifeless, unjudging. What resided inside was much worse.

Cursing low, you entered the opera house. 

The interior was just as magical as the outside, you navigating the intricate, red-velveted halls. You were aware that the auditions were being carried out in the grand auditorium—again, courtesy of your obsession with Parisian landmarks, you had been inside the opera house before. 

The only difference was that you had never been here alone.

You supposed that you should become used to the absence. 

Once you found the grand doors of the auditorium, you opened one, taking in the scene. The huge, singular chandelier lit the vast theatre, golden bordered stalls looking over the couple dozen crew, walking and rushing in and out backstage, few seated in the plush red chairs. The most important people, however, stood before the stage, watching the very performances that you were expecting to do. A sole actress atop the stage read out the lines that you had ingrained in your mind, you spying a few others behind the curtains, anxiously waiting their turn. 

Trying to control your breathing, you began the descent downstairs, passing each lush row of seats, the producers, casting directors, and the big man himself closer and closer. Once you were three rows from the crew, you heard a harsh voice radiating throughout the room. 

“Oh, for goodness sake! Can we wrap this up already?!” 

You suppressed your shudder—the aspiring actress atop the stage, however, could not, flinching at the order. 

The scoff that left the man’s lips would have made you cry many years ago. “Jesus…sweetheart, do us all a favour, and stop wasting our time. Next!” 

The poor auditioner, with crushed hopes, trudged backstage, you catching the tears lining her eyes. You could not restrain a soft gasp.

That had the man turning back.

Oh, God.

Choi Seungcheol’s eyebrows raised to his hairline.

“My, my,” he drawled, sliding his hands to his hips, blazer rising to show his shirt, suspenders attached to his trousers. “What do we have here?”

Dear Lord and His Seven Heavens—if He truly existed, He would spare you this torture, and take away your life this instant. 

You cleared your throat, matching his stare. “I’m here for the casting call.”

The director snickered at your response. “So Seungkwan wasn’t bullshitting at all,” he began, bringing out a cigar from his coat pockets, sparking it to life with his lighter. “What spurred you to take acting seriously again after your spectacular fuck-ups in LA?”

Straight to the point. “I read the parts of the script, and wanted to be involved,” you said simply. It was the truth—it was a perfect project—or perfect, from what you could gather from the limited information.

“Ah…about that.” Seungcheol took a long drag of his cigar. “I’ve decided that the next people auditioning will read something else.”

Your mouth could have dropped to the floor. “What?”

“You see, I have watched about a hundred girls drone out these perfect dialogues.” He puffed out the smoke, almost ambushing your face. “And they were all so god-awful that I now hate the scene altogether.” Snapping his fingers, a running boy brought him a new set of papers. “The rest will read from this. Including you.”

You gaped at the new script. “I haven’t prepared at all for this.”

Seungcheol narrowed his eyes on you. “You have a couple of hours to remember the lines. If you cannot complete such a simple task, then I have no need for you on my set.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you took the papers from him, scanning the lines. The iron director pointed backstage. “You can look at the lines from over there.”

You tried your best not to snap at him. Offering a tight-lipped smile, you followed the direction of his finger, going up the stairs and into the backstage area, where the rest of the aspiring actresses were situated. Each and every one of them looked as if they had received news of a personal death, with the way they paced back and forth, tears in their eyes as they read the scripts. You could not help eavesdropping, and sure enough, Seungcheol’s new decision had everyone a million times more nervous than usual.

You did not miss the last-minute changes in auditions.

Sighing, you found a spot, away from the rush of the actors, settling upon a chair next to the dozen others stacked. With a turn of the front, you decided to look at the page numbers. Hmm…page 90, 91…this meant that the scene was near the end of the movie. The scene you had practised to perfection was in the middle—the character was having an argument with her parents about seeking opportunities, and ended with them offering her one chance to discover herself outside of their abode. 

When you began to read this script, though, your blood curdled beneath your skin.

Your eyes could not stray from the words that were typed onto the paper, your fingers roughly swiping each page, disbelief growing with each dialogue that passed. You were cursing inwardly, sometimes slipping past your lips, and when you were done reading you could not help laughing uncontrollably at your luck. 

This was either the best performance you would ever carry out, or this audition would be the end of your career. 

So, with the two hours you were provided, you endeavoured to engage with the script, reading the lines you were supposed to act out over and over in your head. You tried to forget the previous script, erase it from your mind to create space for this dire piece of work, and you were mostly successful, remembering the new script’s most important bits. You scanned the scene repeatedly, saying the dialogues out loud to taste them with your tongue, trying to enact the emotion that Seungcheol had intended for his characters. 

The hours that you were offered seem to slip by much too quickly, and the director’s barking at the auditioners did not help your nerves, which were threatening to ruin your efforts. You made to steel yourself—this was not the time for panic. Do your audition, and go insane afterwards.

With the last of the actresses done, your name was called out. You got up from your chair, legs turning to jelly under you, and you made to walk out onto the stage, the huge, white tungsten lamps making your eyes water from the sheer flash. 

The director’s voice boomed beyond the stage, his face scrutinising you beneath the lights. “Last, and possibly the least!” he exclaimed, the same papers in hand which you held. When he saw you gritting your teeth, he only snickered, puffing out smoke from his cigar. “God, do scandals make you lose your sense of humour?”

“Just get the dialogue rolling,” you quipped, earning a hearty laugh from him. If you did not get this role, you will make sure to make this man’s life a living hell.

As if you have not done that for every man in your life—especially for the man that mattered.

“Right! Let me reiterate the details.” Seungcheol read out from a summary, not in your script. “The scene starts with your character, Ilsa, ending up at Richard’s door, and is going to make amends. Richard is tired of his ex’s excuses, and well…the argument is going to cement the end of their love story.” He held up his script. “I will read from Richard’s lines, and you read yours. Got it?”

When you nodded, he gave you a minute to look over the starting lines one last time. You instead dropped the papers to the floor. You closed your eyes, breathing in, breathing out, clearing your head. 

The man in your dreams was still there, greeting you with his signature smile.

You wished he was there before you. 

You imagined he would be at the far end of the theatre, seated beside the entryway stairs. He would wear his burgundy jacket, slip a beret upon his black locks, and he would watch you without saying a single word, merely admire you from the back of the room. It would have made you nervous once, but you would give anything to see him in front of you now—be it at the far end of a theatre. 

“You ready?” 

No, you said to the man in your mind.

“Yes,” you said to the man in front. 

The director called for lights, shifting slightly before focusing on you. 

“I’ll be starting in three, two, one…”

You opened your eyes.

There. 

There he was, exactly how you imagined him. His phantom gaze watched you, unsettled on the stage, and he crossed his arms, beret-ed head cocking slightly. The burgundy coat that he adorned nearly covered his face, but you could recognise him anywhere. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I…” you began, trying to find the words, even though you had them memorised. “I had to come back.” 

“To what? What do we have anymore to come back to?” 

Had you not been in a daze, you would have despised the monotone in Seungcheol’s delivery. He was doing it on purpose, you knew—throw the actor off.

You, however, did not need to be thrown off. 

“You’re being hasty with me, Richard,” you reasoned, eyes rooted to the back of the theatre. “You haven’t even given me the chance to speak—”

“I have given you every opportunity…or have you forgotten the last time we spoke?” A pause, meant to be a scoff—the man you stared at scoffed for the director, which went unnoticed. “Well, we didn’t speak much…not with all the shouting.”

Your hand went to your chest. “And I will take the blame if you wish so.” 

“Why thank you for your unending, sacrificial kindness.”

It was almost as if you could hear his voice instead—the very prospect made you shiver at the response. 

“Is that not what you want?” you then asked. 

“God, you still don’t get it, do you?” another baritone demanded, and it was hard, deciphering who spoke from the script, and who spoke from the heart. “It’s not about what I want, it’s about what’s right.”

“Of course you say something like that,” you sneered. “I’m only trying to make you happy.”

“Happy?” The hazy figure on the back seats shifted, almost in agitation. “Why do you care about my happiness now?”

“I’ve never not cared, Jeo—” you stopped, eyes widening. You tried to evade, “Just, just…I was so caught up with everything, and—”

“And forgot about me?”

The dialogue began to hurt—these words, residing within the script, began to tear at the seams of your soul. “I could never forget about you,” you murmured. “Even if I tried.”

There was a pause. Seungcheol, watching you stare at a specific point in the distance, turned around, seeing only the empty seats at the back. He continued the recitation, brows raised in surprise at your performance. “You were successful this time.”

“Don’t say that!” you exclaimed, taking a step forward, raising your hand out to him—you were only met with air. “Please, you have to believe me, this will be the last time—”

“How can I believe you?!” The seated illusion almost jumped from his chair. “Your words are not even a month old and suddenly you want to change them? What do you take me for?!”

“I know, I know, but I was angry, scared about what was happening!”

“So you decide to take it out on me?! And you expect me to then take it?!”

“No, no!” You began to pace back and forth, shaking your head. What was the love interest’s name, shit, if not Jeonghan, then—”My love!” you then tried, the name of the character lost to your lips. “I admit that I made a mistake. I know that I screwed it all up, and that I do not deserve you…I know that.”

You turned your head towards him again. “But I’m here now. I have let everything else go…my work, my colleagues that talked about me, still talk about me…my family who did not think you were good enough…I have left them all.”

Without quite realising, the words that slipped from your tongue began to stray from your dialogue. “I had many great things that held me back. But for you…only for you, I have come back. I am here.”

There was another beat in the script, and you watched as the actor watched you, his beautiful, haunted mouth parting. 

It was as if Jeonghan himself whispered what came next. 

“And what divine revelation brought you to me now?”

Your gaze did not go down on the man that recited the line. For all you could see, the vision you had created mouthed that question. The glimmer in his hazy eyes, waiting for you to answer him.

What divine revelation brought you to me now?

For the first time in your life, you were certain of a difficult question.

There were no revelations—no grand epiphanies, no extravagant fireworks the moment you cracked your dilemma concerning him.

No, perhaps it was the underlying truth. A fact as ancient as your relation with him, as long as the distance between the ground and the tip of the Eiffel Tower. A precious piece of evidence, always rumoured by the thousands of papers that wrote of you and him. This information, that had preyed on your mind for as long as you had known him, something that had scared you.

The truth, which had never left the crevices of your heart, even when you broke his heart five years ago, 

The script was forgotten—your heart, instead, spoke its lines. 

“I love you.”

Murmurs spread beyond the stage. 

The dream-like figure that you confessed to shifted. 

Seungcheol held his hand up to his colleagues, requesting quiet. His stare on you was inquisitive, calculating. 

“You love me?” The question was cautious—a chance to let you play out your improv. You, however, did not realise the director’s mindset. You were too lost in your own pandemonium to notice your change of script. 

“I love you,” you repeated, more desperate this time, because Yoon Jeonghan had to know. The Yoon Jeonghan, real or not real before you, had to be aware, or else all would be lost. “I never stopped, I-I don’t think I ever will stop, because I can’t love anyone else—” you halted, your throat lumping, stopping your string of speech. 

Trying to contain yourself, you cast one last stare at the man you had conjured up—who, too, was unable to tear his gaze from you—perhaps because you would not let him.

You pleaded as if it was Judgement Day. 

“Please understand. I love you.”

You snapped your eyes shut, a tear escaping as it trailed down your cheek. 

There it was—the confession that you had harboured for too long.

Your breathing was the only thing prevalent in the huge theatre, all eyes upon your crumbling figure, the legs which had not failed you before threatening to do so that very moment. But you refused to give up, not when you needed to hear his answer. 

“Maybe in the past, my dear, that would have been enough.”

Seungcheol’s final line had your heart stopping.

“Not anymore…not for me.”

Your eyes fluttered open.

The actor you had dreamt up had vanished. 

“And scene!”

Your frantic gaze darted to the director, who swiped the last page, cherry lips curling upward. “And then he closes the door on her, but we don’t need to see you act that out.” He set the script upon the table he leaned against, crossing his arms. “I must say, _____, for someone who’s been too busy ruining her career, you sure have the talent to salvage—”

“Was there someone at the back?” You pointed to the seats, precisely where your ex-lover had been—or at least you thought.

“No…you were the last person to audition with us.” He raised a brow. “I was wondering why you were looking so intently at the empty chairs, and not the man you were supposed to read your lines with.”

But you were not particularly listening to him, because you had poured out your heart only for it to fall on deaf ears. You looked to the grand doors of the exit, mind sprinting ideas, rushed plans on what to do next, what to do with these feelings—

“Now, I am certain you are aware of the procedure, but I’ll contact Seungkwan about your audition, as well as your performance this morning,” he continued, snapping his fingers to have his assistant immediately carry out the task. “Based on me not shouting you to tears, you can guess that—”

“I need to go,” you cut the greatest director in Hollywood off, your frenzied sight catching the stairs. “Thank you, um, for—” you cursed, shaking your head, trying to say something that did not revolve around him—“Seungkwan will reach out, I’ll be sure of it.” 

The man watched your behaviour, visibly shocked. “Do you understand what I am proposing right now?” 

Your rushed steps flew past him, looking at him over the shoulder. “Perfectly, so perfectly, but…”

You could not contain your smile. “I need to tend to a more important matter.”

And you left him there, aghast as you glided up the grand stairs of the theatre. You heard him mumble complaints against you, cursing the ‘young actors and their recklessness’, but this time, you could only laugh, because maybe he was right, maybe you were being reckless and wild and stupid, but you did not care.

For once in your life, you did not care.

It only took a few minutes to navigate the exit of the opera house, the light at the end of the grand tunnel glowing brighter and brighter. Bursting out of the Palais, you hissed when you saw the sun out in full swing, glaring down at you with great offence—almost as if it knew that you blamed its enlightening rays for the separation between you and Jeonghan, and reminded you of who was truly at fault.

You admitted your wrongdoings—you admitted them wholeheartedly, and now you must make amends.

Scanning the road before you, you realised there were no cabs nearby. Fuck, you instantly thought, breaking into a hurried walk as you scoured your surroundings, any car for hire that might turn up. 

At this point, the morning population was gathering. Because you were the unluckiest woman in the world, anyone who looked in your direction a little too closely recognised you at once.

“Oh my God, is that—”

“What is _____ doing around here?”

At one point, you would have died hearing their comments, but you had greater concerns in your mind—those concerns first began with how to get to your destination.

That was when a large, box-like bus rushed past you, slowing to rest beside the Palais Garnier stop.

Your eyes squinted at the back for its details.

041095 — GARE DE L’EST. 

By God. Jeonghan’s apartment was on the way to the East Station.

You did not know whether this was a blessing or a curse.

“Here goes,” you murmured.

After garnering every atom of strength you could find in your body, you devoured it in one moment as you burst into a sprint.

Gasps were heard around you as you ran towards the bus,which was accepting the last of the passengers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you kept cursing out, your feet beginning to hurt by the sheer force of your flight. 

You were already aware that you were a failing actress—you did not need to be a failing athlete along with it.

With pure horror you watched as the last couple entered the bus, gathering at the open deck of its back. There were people within that open deck looking at you in shock, certain that you would not reach the standing area in time.

But you were on a mission to prove people wrong. After all this time, you were not going to let them win—even if it may be over something as menial as running for the bus.

As soon as the carriage began to move, you reached your hand out, fingers aching to touch the railing.

Just before it could drive away into the city, you grabbed onto the pole. 

With a groan you hoisted yourself upon the deck, stumbling across the fragile floors. The onlookers stepped away from you as you gathered yourself, gulping down a world’s worth of oxygen. You held onto the railings, fearing that if you let go you would be ripped away from the bus, although it was an irrational thought.

The surprised looks were still upon you.

You tilted your head up at one of them. “Quoi?” you demanded. “What?”

Instantly, the rest seemed to avert their gazes, finding the scenery of central Paris much more alluring than a walking Hollywood scandal.

At least they were not going to bother you now.

You were thankful to be at the back, avoiding the calls for showing tickets in the interior of the bus. Your hands gripped the poles, attached to the extended roof as you passed the Champs-Élysées, each stop making you more restless. If his apartment was not an hour away on foot, then you would have ran there yourself. 

Soon enough, you oversaw the distant view of the Eiffel Tower, watching your journey over the Seine. You were close—you remembered that Jeonghan lived across the great river, just so he could catch a glimpse of the famed landmark from his apartment balcony.

Once the bus stopped outside the Passy underground, you quickly stepped off the deck, eyes darting to the signs that directed you to the nearby park. You followed it blindly, the route to the destination coming together, like lost pieces of an old puzzle, finally being solved. You had become restless, almost savage in your trail to find him; the more civilians that recognised you, the more shocked they were at your appearance, wondering out loud at how someone like you could run around Paris in such a manner.

You were laughing at them all. You did not care.

Finding the residential park, you sprinted through the orderly trees, catching the giggles of children in your ears as your eyes spotted the apartment building, right in front of you. So close, you were so fucking close—

Exiting the confines of the garden, you burst through the apartment complex. It was simple, almost rundown, a shocking residential for someone who had tasted the luxury of seven-star hotels. The once painted walls were crackling on your present floor, distant arguments in French muffled beyond the doors. 

You knew instantly that this was not the floor.

Taking the stairs beside you, you immediately took two in one heap, almost flying to the top till you reached the second floor. However, you remember distinctly how much you used to complain whenever you would come here, how you would tire of this horrid journey, and you knew that the second floor had arrived too quickly.

A part of you resented the beautiful asshole for renting a place so high-up the complex.

After what felt like a million flights of stairs later, you reached the top floor, your clothes sticking to your skin, sweating through the fabric. Your tired gaze fell on the multiple identical doors, trying to recall which one had your ex-lover behind them. 

Your hands settled on the back of your hips, closing your eyes. Think, think! you tried to remember, the reminiscences of his living room, the walls decked with paintings and memorabilia, the bedroom where he ended and you began.

Ten minutes in, pacing back and forth the hallway, ready to collapse on the floor. 

That was when you heard the distant music.

“That’s why…darling…it’s incredible…”

More importantly, the distant voice.

“That someone…so unforgettable…” 

The voice was not of the original singer—no, it was a voice that had stayed with you forever, a voice that sounded much more melancholy than the song let on.

“Thought that I was…unforgettable…too…”

You parted your mouth.

You knew exactly which door the sweet song came from.

Your feet dashed towards the distant humming, right at the end of the long hallway. The door on the far right was the one, and your hand could not fly up quickly enough.

The knocks on the door could have had the entire complex shaking in its foundations.

“Jeonghan!” 

The song softened to an end. 

The other side of the door was silenced.

“Jeonghan!” you tried again, fists rocking on the wood. “Please open the door! I need to speak to you!”

As you shouted, pleaded, your ears picked up soft footsteps from the other side. You latched onto this. “I can hear you from there, please! Please Jeonghan, just hear me out!”

You waited anxiously, as if you were in hospital expecting tragic news, or a convict awaiting sentence. He may have been silent now, because you could hear a single shuffle on the opposite end. 

Of course he did not want to speak to you. 

And although he had every right to be silent, you knew that your right to be a bystander had long disappeared. So you began, in hopes he had not secluded further into his apartment.

“Look, I know what I said last time we had spoken—well, argued, really, I know that I said some horrible things, and it’s selfish of me to even bring it up again, but…they have haunted me ever since I made the mistake of hurting you that day.”

You were not quite sure of the exact words, but you had to have faith in your feelings. “I was cruel to you that day, Jeonghan. I said things to purposefully harm you, and expected you to be fine with me the very next day. I became scared, you know, when the press exposed us, because all I was doing was thinking about myself.” Your scoff cut off your speech. “I realise I do that a lot…think only of myself.

“And I know this is no excuse, but I had been abandoned so many times that I had to prioritise myself for so long. I was not used to your selflessness, your unending kindness…perhaps because I did not deserve it, but you offered it to me, and I happily took it.”

A hard sigh. “Truth is, it’s me who has not moved on.”

Something shifted on the other side. 

“You were right. I destroyed this relationship five years ago, and the worst thing is, I did it for the people who did not care for me. For my career, my fans…my fame.” 

“I thought I was fine…I thought, well, all this bitterness, this frustration I have felt for so long in my life…I thought this entire time that it was because I lost my glory.” Your head shook slightly. “But I was wrong. My life took a turn for the worse the moment I lost you.” 

You paused, hoping he would have something to say.

Nothing.

“You may be thinking why I have had this sudden revelation, considering it has arrived so late, but I think the night I saw you at the Louvre…you know, with those sculptures and that talk about love and loss…something came alive in me that day. Even when you were in my room, when we were drinking too much, my confession was still honest. I did miss you…fuck, I do miss you, a-and it only made everything so much more difficult.”

Still not a word.

Spirits slowly sinking, you leaned your forehead against the door, closing your eyes. “I have been a coward, though, this entire time. My fear of the press overshadowed my feelings, and in turn I hurt you in false hope to save myself…for the second time, I have hurt you, and I don’t even know how I can ever make it up to you…but I can say this.”

This time, with both hands flat beside you, you pressed your forehead against the door.

“I’m sorry.”

A pause. 

“I’m sorry for everything I have done. ‘I’m sorry for five years ago, and for these past few weeks. I’m sorry for toying with your feelings, Jeonghan, even though you were so dear to me, and I’m sorry for allowing my securities to reign over your affections.”

You closed your eyes. 

“Please forgive me.”

You stopped yourself, lest the lump in your throat robbed you of your voice. If Jeonghan was still listening, he would realise the waver in your speech. You could not cry at him—that would not be fair.

You did not know how long you stood there, almost sagged against the creaking wood, praying to every entity imaginable to hear a single reply of your confessions. As more time passed, the more you revisited your words, taking them apart, finding faults in them. You became half-mad that you should not have said anything at all, and made the greatest mistake of your life in running back to him.

But what else could you have done? Continued in your self-destructive, self-sabotaging ways till they cemented an early demise? How could you have lived with yourself, knowing that you let the great love of your life slip through your sin-stained fingers, and survived? Even now, you were anxious beyond repair, waiting hopelessly for an answer that might not arrive, but you knew as well as anyone that if you had simply gone back to the hotel after your audition, then everything you had ever lived for would amount to nothing.

And so, you waited.

And waited.

And waited.

You were almost unable to withhold your tears when you heard the door creaking—as if a presence straightened themselves from the other side.

Then, the hesitant unlocking of the knob. 

Your instincts bid you step away as the door opened, and you could not restrain the haggard sigh that escaped you as you set your sight upon him.

Jeonghan looked every bit as frenzied as you were.

The mystical elegance that he exuded so naturally had almost disappeared when you caught the ghostly hue of his skin, the slight bags under his eyes. Even his mouth lost a little colour, his hair in a wild, unruly frizz. It was frightening, seeing him look so different to how he always presented himself.

Another consequence of your actions.

You could barely get his name out of your lips.

“J-Jeonghan…”

He was staring and staring, not quite believing what he was seeing—nor what he heard.

I’m sorry.

He had never heard an apology from you. 

In his entire time of knowing you, admiring you, loving you, mourning you, his ears were never graced with apologies or requests of forgiveness from you. Perhaps because you were not used to someone confronting your behaviour—or simply because of your own, unintentional arrogance—but you had never been forced to recognise your behaviour, and so had grown immune to the morally ambiguous actions of your past. 

So to hear you utter the words…he thought at first that you were not there in front of him, near tears in your eyes, admitting to what you had done to him.

“What caused this?”

He had to ask you the origins of such a declaration.

“Why are you here now?”

You could have shuddered—how similar he sounded to the words on the script you had just memorised.

You told him yourself, albeit with caution. “I…I was auditioning, actually…you know, the Seungcheol movie I talked about before…” Before the press—the fight. Before the separation. “There was a scene and…I was screaming, begging for the man to come back, but he strayed, despite my best efforts…”

The actor’s voice turned harsh. “So I reminded you of a scene? A story of fiction, a fantasy?”

“No!” you began, almost reaching out to hold his hand, but you stopped yourself—you did not have the right. “No, Jeonghan, it was so similar, I just…I saw you in the theatre as I said my lines! I saw you, heard your voice recite the responses. I thought I was going mad, and then I did when I stopped following the script, and confessed to you!” The memory made you a little sheepish. “Then I realised you were not there, and so here I am…”

But he was turning on his heel, walking back into the room as he shook his head. “Wait, Jeonghan!” you exclaimed, following after him, not realising your surroundings, the nostalgia of entering the private sphere of the most public man in the world. “Wait, it wasn’t a fantasy!” He was walking further, into another room. “Damn it, I left the audition before Seungcheol could even provide any feedback!” 

He looked back. “You did what?”

“I ran away from the theatre before anyone could say anything! I swear to you, I ran after a bus to the station, a bus that led me here.” You were frantic again, desperate. “I am sure I have fucked up this audition, the entire city saw me running to you, but I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if Seungcheol spreads the word of my terrible improv, I will laugh when the press writes about my crazy episode of coming here…” Anxiously, you kept shaking your head, trying to steady your voice. “I don’t care anymore, Jeonghan. Not about them…”

The film noir star could only take in the confession, more shocking than everything you had said before. 

You left the sanctuary of your privacy for him.

You had abandoned possibly the only chance for a revival of your fame to seek him out.

You, who would have rather died than show yourself to the public in these dark times, had faced its scrutiny for him.

He did not know whether to fall to his knees or laugh in disbelief. 

“I know you’re shocked,” you murmured, hugging yourself tightly. “You have every right to be, especially that I’m dumping this on you all of a sudden…but, it’s for you. I did it all for you.”

Falling silent, you watched the anarchy on his haunted features, his head dipping, curls falling along his movements. It was within this tensioned quiet that you finally allowed yourself to scour your environment; Jeonghan’s apartment remained the same as you had last seen it—you did not realise you had followed him into his bedroom, a myriad of dark blues, greys and blacks coating the walls, carpeting the floor, the only light being the lamplights, brighter with the setting of the sun. 

Upon the large, night-cloaked bed, was a newspaper stark against the black sheets. As you read the France-Soir headline, you heard him speak.

“Did you think I wanted to hide away too?”

Your eyes stayed on the newspaper. 

“Ignore your calls, wave Seungkwan off when he mentioned you, watch you suffer? Do you think I wanted it to come to this?”

You allowed yourself a quick glance at him. He continued, “I’m sure you’ve read about the absence by now. You know me well enough to know that I never miss a single press tour, let alone the premiere.”

“Then why did you not go?”

His stare upon you was grave. “I was not the only one suffering in this separation.”

Oh.

Right.

Quickly you averted your eyes from the dreaded papers, instead focusing on the memorabilia surrounding his private sphere. The walls were plastered with posters of various movies, his promotional shots, as well the fan letters many had sent him in his career. Another board beside his bed was littered with a hundred photos, memories of his friends, his co-stars, and his family. 

“I don’t want to hurt like that…like this anymore. The years when we were apart…” he could not even finish his musings, turning away to put his hand on the study. 

You could not say another word, hoping he would keep speaking—because if he stopped speaking, then there was nothing left between you and him.

And that was too terrifying a thought.

“I missed the premiere, _____, because for the first time in my life, I could not face the public.” 

Jeonghan forced down the nerves bubbling in his throat. “What you said that day…although I had heard it before, all that time ago, I still did not know how to handle myself. Funny, is it not, that I was able to survive the cruelty of the media five years back, but one fight with you, and I completely broke down…”

Once again, you felt his words knife your soul. “I…” He licked his lips, so at loss with himself. “I don’t want to relive those moments again…I can’t relive it.”

You were such a coward, unable to look at the anguish in his face. You kept staring at the wall of memories, scouring the faces the actor held dear enough to keep them in his room forever. 

It was in that particular moment, when he closed his eyes, that your own found something extraordinary.

“Oh my God.”

The actor looked up. 

With a hesitance in his step, he walked over to where you were rooted to the ground, gawking at a specific picture.

When his line of sight found the photo, he too, widened his eyes.

Before you, right in the middle of Jeonghan’s pictured-memories, was a photograph of you.

It was you, face glowing with awe as you admired your favourite sculpture, cut away from the picture’s borders. You knew precisely when this moment was captured—your first ever Paris trip, taken mere weeks after beginning your romance with the man in this room. You had chastised him for taking the picture, demanding he rip it from his camera, but he had teased you so relentlessly for your innocent admiration, that he vowed never to destroy it.

Your question from the exhibition, at least, had been answered. 

This was enough to make your vision blurry again.

You were so caught up in the picture that when he spoke again, you almost jumped. 

“Why are you surprised to see it there?”

Blinking back the tears, you tried to voice your shock. “I can’t…I can’t believe you didn’t throw it away.”

He kept looking at the photograph. “I keep my promises, _____.”

This time, you glanced at him.“Sometimes I pretend that we are back in the Louvre,” he said, a ghost of a smile creeping onto his mouth, the more he inspected the photo. “Seeing Psyche and Cupid for the first time…back when we didn’t care about anything. Back when things like the press or the public didn’t stop us.”

You damned the cowardice. “It can be like that again.”

He faced you. “Could it?” His eyes were laced with uncertainty. “Last time I remembered, you were ready to give everything up for the public.”

“I know…I know what I said, and believe me when I say I regret it.”

You willed your hands at your sides, setting your gaze at the man who was losing faith. “Jeonghan, when I was running away from the audition, seeing everyone’s shock and judgement as I rushed to you, I did not feel anxious. Honestly, I was relieved. I did not care, because all I was anxious for was seeing you, and begging for your forgiveness.

“I thought I could sacrifice everything to have my popularity back…yes, the first weeks in Paris were not perfect…day and night I ached for the affections of the press, the people, but…” You recalled the fated nights. “By some fortune, you came back into my life.”

A small step forward—an effort to close the imminent distance between you both—a distance you had created. “You said before, didn’t you? That you had lost me once, and could not lose me again?” 

This time, you could not control the waver in your voice. “It was never you who lost me…it was I who was foolish enough to lose you. I spent so long listening to the people who did not know me, that I forgot about the man who knows me more than I know myself.”

He was shell-shocked, unable to stop, and did not want to stop your shaking hands, which raised to hold his face. 

“I am done living by the opinions of others. I love you, and I will always be sorry for never showing it enough…never again will I make the same mistake.”

Only when you quietened, bearing your heart to him, that you finally noticed his ragged breathing, the hard rise and fall of his chest—the tears that spilled from his stunned eyes. He could hardly speak, perfect brows knitting, a million thoughts running through his head in the seconds that he stared. 

You watched the anarchy on his face, anticipating the worst. 

“Jeonghan?”

His name upon your lips was the last straw. 

The greatest film star in the world grabbed your waist with both hands and pulled you in. 

The kiss that welcomed you freed you of every worry you had ever harboured.

You almost moaned in relief, instantly wrapping yourself around him as you reciprocated. Your mouth moved along with his, an age-old rhythm that you had mastered only with him, because he was the only one who could render you putty in his hold. You could taste the salt of his tears, which had travelled down to his mouth, and your fingers upon his cheeks tightened—tightening because you were the reason for these tears, and never again would you let this dear man weep silently over you. 

Jeonghan’s desperation, in the way he tugged your hips so close that it snuffed out the remaining distance, tied to his own hips, was much too obvious. You had never even realised how much he had waited for you, yearned for you as the entire world watched his every movement.

He had never tasted chaos as bitter as when he was apart from you. 

You broke his heart that day in your hotel room—he knew, deep down, that you were regressing into your ancient fears, but that time, he did not think he could wait for you again. Five long, hard, aching years, he could only watch you from a distance, lest the papers tear you apart as they did him. Five years he witnessed firsthand your steady destruction, the alliances turning against your image as you ruined yourself to the industry; all that time, he stood and did nothing, because he knew that you had sealed your fate the moment you abided by the rules of Hollywood.

But he was lying if he said he had not languished over you. 

When he found you in the dark hallways of the Louvre, looking for Psyche and Cupid reuniting all those weeks ago, he first believed himself following a whimsical script, written by the subconscious, aching wisps of his heart. He could not help indulging in you, wanting you so desperately it was as if he had never aged in your separation. He could not even expose how many times he had relived the first stages of your relationship—how many times he had captured the same photo you had stared mere minutes ago. 

So when you came knocking on your door as if your life depended on it, admitting to your mistakes…how could he not accept—no, delight in your changed behaviour? Of course, nothing could have described his devastation in the past weeks, but your promises to him was all he wished for—all he ever needed in his life. 

So as Jeonghan pushed you back, drinking the desire that spilled from your mouth, clumsy in his steps, he needed you to realise that he would never leave—even if you hurt him a thousand times over. 

Your back hit the wall, the impact breaking away from his mouth—your momentary gasps gave him enough incentive to latch onto your neck, his s every soft kiss planted making you whimper. Perhaps any other rendezvous would have been so much more hectic—full of rage and excitement, but this was so different. What used to be broken curses on heated skin, promises of ruination had become soft murmurs, half-voiced questions of going further, prayers of thanks to whatever you two believed in which brought the two of you back together. 

Slowly, with every love bite softly carved by his teeth, his hands were also working slyly, sliding to the buttons of your black trousers. Your own hands sought refuge in his curls, the frenzied frizz of his black locks which felt like home underneath your fingers. Only when he successfully unbuttoned the front, feeling his mouth leave your neck and make a trail down your chest did you falter. Dipping your head to see him kiss your clothed abdomen, he descended on his knees, facing the unbuttoned glory of the trousers. 

Fingers hooking to the waistband, he tugged your trousers down, all the way to your ankles where you shed them from your feet, legs now bare before him. His changing expression had you gulping down at his image.

With trembling fingers he skimmed your skin till they found the waistband on your sides. Slowly, too slowly for you, he tugged them down, savouring the sight till your cunt was on show, and you could have been snuffed out from the look in his eyes as they sparked to life. 

You had almost forgotten how extraordinary he looked in this position. 

His curls barely touched your thighs, shifting closer as he blew a gush of air towards your core, relishing the shiver that he felt through your body. 

“Jeonghan…” You were so on edge, holding the wall. “What are you stalling for?”

His words fanned your cunt—fluttering you alive. “You said…did you not? That you had been selfish?” 

His head tilted upwards, catching your daze. “Is it not my turn to indulge?” 

You could have collapsed to the floor. 

“May I?” he asked you, a mere breath.

Because you could not say a word, you could only nod, a little too enthusiastically. 

Jeonghan’s tongue sliding past your slit had you closing your eyes.

He collected the arousal that glistened, languid in his process—he dared not quicken too quickly, fearing a rushed ending, terrified he would ruin something he had recreated in his dreams. Your taste, your hypnotic taste was even finer than the arousal he had lapped up in his mind, separating your legs even further to fully capture you in his mouth. His tongue had struck liquid treasure, journeying up your folds, and your breathing turned even, harsher with every stroke.

Your breaths then hitched entirely when he stumbled upon your clit. 

His tongue and your clit could have been soulmates, the way he latched onto the bud, circling like an enthusiastic dog around its owner. He was a broken record, singing the same lamentations of how long he had been waiting to devour you, but he could not stop himself. He hummed at the reactions that elicited from your own tongue. Every little sound that escaped from you was further motivation, a confirmation that you had not moved on from his touches.

And how could you have done?

The memories were flooding in the hazy gates of your mind, flashbacks of him kneeling in all corners of the world—sucking on your clit in the darkness of the London bars, stuffing his face in the districts of Bangkok, unravelling you in the gardens of Marrakech. Which continent had he not travelled to delve within you, both of you always drunk out of your minds, but never quite forgetting the passions that still remained rampant to this day.

Now, in this small, Parisian apartment, with no one to dare spy on the two of you—no one but the posters on the walls, or the pictures on the board—the film noir star could rest easy, stone cold sober, as he glided his tongue on your bundle of nerves. He gripped your thighs, his jaw opening wider, and your legs threatened to buckle from under you. 

He was giving his all, his ministrations laced with a helplessness you had never sensed before. As if you were going to slip away from him, he held onto you with a certain determination, almost as if in any second, you would run away again, break his heart for the last time.

That could have broken your own soul.

Your hands went to his hair, carding through the mess of curls, ruining them even more. You held onto him because you needed him to understand that you were not going anywhere, not anymore. Your fingers, threading into his locks, making him feel your presence—he had to get through his head that your screw ups ended at this moment. 

When he began to quicken at your touches, you would have abandoned every bad decision you thought of ever making. 

You stole a glance down, blinking heavily back at the sight. 

It was like the image of a holy man, kneeling at the altar of his god; perhaps more would have resorted to religion if they saw the way Jeonghan worshipped you with his mouth, over and over again like a neverending mass. 

Seeing him speeding up his rhythm firsthand had your whimpers gaining a voice, the small of your back tensing up. You were constricting, fidgeting much harder in his grasp. 

If his tongue was not enough, then the man let one of your sides free from his grip. Those fingers then crept closer, his mouth never stopping as he slipped one inside. The surprise of the digit entering had you gasping, the hold on his hair unsteady as it nearly filled you up. 

You delighted in its presence, even more so when you felt the pleasure of it leaving you. Your walls began to pulsate when the finger came back, a steady pattern Jeonghan knew was your favourite. You suppose it should not have been such a surprise, but he knew you too damn well. He knew which little things would make you lose your very senses, follow his trail till the end of time.

He was faster now, leading you closer and closer to your release, which felt so imminent. You could almost taste its remnants, the dull ache threatening to course through your body.

“J-Jeonghan—!” you got out, shaking in his hold, even in your speech. “I’m so—fuck, I’m so close—”

But you did not have to say a single word, because he could sense your incoming release, controlled by his fingers, his tongue. To know he held the power of your undoing thrilled him.

Even after all this time, you followed the melody of his music, and no one else’s.

Your ex-lover softly teethed your clit, his finger diving into you to the knuckle.

You could not restrain yourself any longer. 

With a final gasp you let yourself go, your orgasm singing your body to life, freeing you from the dull throbbing caused by his truly. The constriction snapped, and your legs could not take you anymore—you would have collapsed on the ground had his hand on your hip not stopped the fall.

Quickly sliding his finger out, you felt hollow with his tongue leaving too. As he pulled away, holding you on both sides, he let you slide down till you were at level with him. 

You stole a peek at his slick finger, then his slicker lips. You parted yours when he licked his mouth, savouring the taste of you. 

“You have no idea,” he began, voice much raspier, “How long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

But you could not respond to him, legs still numb, mouth still slightly agape by the frenzied sight of him. You thought you were done, but then he confided this to you, and all the desire that you thought had been released was churning once again. 

How manic you had become, how insatiable your hunger had transformed for him—exactly how he had prayed at your altar, you could have clasped your hands in devotion before him, begging him to never stop.

So you tried to muster this urgency when you asked him, quietly, but not softly, “Then why have you stopped here?” 

You brought your hands to his face, relishing in the warmth of his cheeks. “Have we not…not waited far too long to come to this?”

He leaned in further, nodding absentmindedly as he stared at your lips. “Too fucking long, mon ange.” 

And he swooped in once more, enveloping your lips with his, because it was not enough, and he needed more. Thank God his thirst had not satiated, because you did not think you would have retained your sanity had he been done then and there. You were still reeling over from your release, only just finding feeling in your legs. Even so, perhaps you did not even need feeling, because, as he was sliding his tongue through the seam of your lips, his hands found refuge under your knees, your back. 

His mouth drowned out your gasp as you were lifted in his arms, you instinctively wrapping your arms around him as he led you to his midnight-clouded bed. Gently he settled upon the soft sheets, laying you down as he broke away for a fleeting moment. 

He was making to take his shirt off, fingers resting on the hem when you stopped him, hands on his.

“Let me,” you whispered. “Let me do at least one thing for you.”

Jeonghan blinked back, catching the gentle request in your eyes. He could not have accepted fast enough, pressing kisses to the corners of your lips, your jaw as your wavering hands raised the shirt off him, tossing it to the side. You caught the sight of his slender frame, and could not stop yourself as your fingers skimmed the soft skin of his abdomen. To think no one had seen the sliver of his shoulders, let alone the waist-up nakedness—no television screen, no secret reporter had captured him the way he was over you, watching you admire him shamelessly. He could only raise his groomed brows at you, tugging at your own shirt, which was buttoned to the top. 

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured, unbuttoning the layers one by one. “Or I couldn’t…I could never leave.”

As your shirt accompanied his, you asked him, voice barely out as he drank in the lace of your bra, “Do you want to?” 

But his finger was trailing the hem of your strap, urging you to lift yourself only a little as he unclipped it with one hand, all the while watching the hesitance of your own fingers as you pulled his trousers down. His eyes may have darted all over your bare figure, your shifting demeanour, but he did not waver. Even as the last of his layers were being uncovered, peeling away his trousers, his boxer briefs, no one tried to shy away, even when there was nothing left to hide away in for the two of you.

You supposed seeing Yoon Jeonghan naked should have burst you into cinders. 

Sure, you were heating up at the mere sight of him, but an overwhelming nostalgia washed over your mind—it was as if your heart, too, was moving strangely along with the thrums of your desire. It had been so long, and you did not—could not—even comprehend finding yourself at this stage. Even your ex-lover’s stare had faltered, turning heavy-lidded. 

Finally…finally he was experiencing the events of his dreams.

As he towered over you, guiding his cock that you could not stop looking at, his other hand found a home at your hips. He could hardly focus, the memories of your first time with him, and so many times afterwards, rushing with his one move. The tip teased your entrance, staining it with your returning arousal, and you hitched in a sharp breath.

No—you should not look at Jeonghan like he was the last piece of the puzzle of your happiness, as if he held the power to salvage the destruction you had caused. You asked him, in that sweet hushed whisper that raised his temperature, whether you would ever leave him, and it could have pained him that you had to ask in the first place. 

“Never,” he rasped out, curls moving along his face as he drifted closer. “Leave you…?” He shook his head slowly, his nose brushing yours with every shake. “Never again.”

With that, he indulged in his greatest fantasy, one he harboured the moment he declared his love for you.

His cock slid further inside, and you gripped his shoulder, a whimper prying out of your mouth without any restraint. God, he was filling you up, more so than you imagined. Maybe you had not made love to anyone in such a while, and had forgotten the feeling.

But you had not forgotten sex with Jeonghan—or at least you thought, because nothing could have braced you for the feeling of him inside you.

“There,” he said softly, a phantom smile appearing as he bottomed out in you, ragged breathing exposing. “Just like that, mon ange.” He raised his fingers to your mouth, thumb playing with your lip. “Need you to…ah, moan just like that.”

“Jeonghan…” you murmured, too bewildered by the feeling of your walls clenching around him to respond to his broken whispers. “So good…feels so good.”

His smile could have cured all your heartache. “Good,” he said, the soft plush of his mouth caressing yours. Even with all the distance snuffed out, he completely engulfed you with his presence, his locks tickling your cheeks. You could not breathe any oxygen, but the man above you, labouring inside of you…could oxygen not be replaced by his presence? Could you not have inhaled his very scent into your bones, lived off the desire sparking in his wild eyes?

Then, he began to pull out, tilting his back head slightly to watch your pupils dilating, brows drawing together, gasping slightly at the feeling. He wished he could bottle the moment, necklace the image and perch it on his heart forever. You were so in sync to his movements, reacting so well to his cock, that he wondered whether you were made just for him. A selfish pondering, of course, but Jeonghan’s newfound greed seemed to overwhelm him. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered to you, voice lowering an octave as he kept moving, creating a rhythm so spellbinding you could not help following along. “You look so…so beautiful under me, I—”

He thrust inside you again once he was barely teasing your folds, and you swore he hit a spot that had you seeing stars. Perhaps you could have transcended into another world, another galaxy which was made just for the two of you—no one would watch over you and him, and you could bask in each other forever, without the prying eyes of the world you were in. His knitted brows, his heavy-lidded eyes, dazing over—his slick, parted mouth, his unruly hair, matting with sweat. Everything you scrutinised, painting him in your mind so you could never forget, putting this Jeonghan on the pedestal of your memories. 

Too long—too long you had simply lived in the past.

It was time for you to live in the present.

Wrapping your legs around him, you took him in even deeper, hands sliding up from his shoulder to his face, caressing his raven locks on the way. “Look at you,” he kept saying, because he still could not believe you were here, taking him so well, eliciting sounds that could have had the dead flustered in their graves. “So pretty while you take my cock—ah!” He could not even finish properly, his mind clouding. His own interruption stirred something dark, something delicious inside you.

He was moving a little quicker, gliding the two of you upon midnight sheets. “Faster, mon ange?” he asked you between kisses. You nodded enthusiastically, without even realising, and he chuckled slightly, fanning your face. “No, darling, I…words, I need your words.”

You did not think you could even muster a single thing to oblige him, but the familiar feeling, pulsating at the small of your back, returned. “Faster, please,” you got out, and he obliged you, fastening his pace—the moment your whimpers morphed into pants, he knew he was doing something right. Once he quickened, the dull thrum slowly returned, barely even noticeable at first. Because the man inside you knew you more than you knew yourself, he was aware just how to bring you to that moment.

But he was going to cherish this first.

Even while he picked up the pace, a part of him was too terrified to let these moments end. 

Already you could barely form full sentences, and he knew that soon, he would sense your very release impending. You were so good to him, so exceptional, better than all the dreams he had experienced in dark nights from years ago. You were quite possibly everything he had secretly hoped, and to think he had only glimpses in these years…he would make sure to never have you doubt him again.

“Close,” you began, losing a slight grip on your senses with his pattern, his cock that you had not realised you missed. “I-I’m close—”

But he could tell from impeding moans, drowning out his own breathless grunts, slowly losing his own control over his movements. He nodded hurriedly, fastening some more.

This time, his thrusts became erratic, all of his praises incoherent as he teethed love-bites onto your skin, burying his face in your shoulder. He whispered sweet praises in your ear as he pounded into you, and you were certain that you would never regain sanity again after all of this was over. If his cock was not enough, then he brought his fingers into the midst, prodding at your clit to entice even more pleasure. You were whining onto his skin, his mouth, needing him to undo you before you burst under his hold.

“F-fuck, angel,” he breathed out, all his strength being used in pleasuring you fully. “Even more beautiful than my dreams—!” 

It was not as if you were making it any easier for him.

No, the film noir star was breaking, tearing at the seams, because you were moaning sweet nothings to him, words he could not make out, until you chanted his name. Jeonghan! Jeonghan! Jeonghan! you kept begging, and it dawned on him that all his devotion was finally reaping its reward. You, a star who had never bowed to anyone, were thrashing and shaking from his touches, pleading for release only he could bestow, and now, he was the altar you prayed to with a sinner’s desperation. 

Because the two of you had finally found each other after fate had tried to pull you apart, he would listen. Because, after years of separation, a plethora of misunderstandings, untold feelings, and an infinite amount of silences gone far too long, he would finally break these horrid curses.

Because the man was utterly in love with you, he would never dismiss your pleas.

So, with one final collision of his lips against yours, he worked overtime as his cock plunged into you one last time, your bundle of nerves never resting from the circling of his fingers. 

You cried onto his shoulder as your orgasm crashed through, electric as it pulsed through your body, legs shaking under his hands. Blinking hurriedly, you felt him slither out of you, just in time for his own orgasm. He stained his midnight sheets of his release, collapsing right next to you with a soft, low curse. 

As the two of you tried to recover from your ministrations, both chests unevenly rising, falling, arms touching, you stared up at the ceiling, your heart pumping in your ears.

Oh my God.

You could not believe it. 

After what felt like twenty lifetimes, you had finally found Jeonghan—found him, and managed to keep him, despite everything.

Your old habits would have you doubting this whole event happened, but even you knew you should allow yourself this happy certainty. 

You gazed at the black walls, the small lights in the middle. As the blood pumping in your ears began to simmer down, you heard more clearly his broken huffs—the beginnings of a laugh that barely bubbled out of his mouth.

Catching onto it, you turned on your side, looking at his closed eyes, and the corner of his lips which curved upwards. “What’s the laugh for?” 

Although he swayed his head, as if waving off your question, he spoke up after a moment. “I just…I can’t believe you ran after a bus for me.”

When he caught the exasperation on your face, he almost glowed with amusement. “I nearly fell off the back of it, too,” you grated out, almost creasing from the memory. “Everybody just gawked as I got on.”

He shifted, facing you. “I suppose it is not everyday you see a famous actress running after public transport.”

“Infamous, more like,” you corrected. “Well…it is pointless now…” you paused, biting your lip. “I suppose I shall have to get used to it…”

A slight tick of his head. “How so?”

“Seungcheol will never give me the part,” you explained in dejection. When you looked at him, though, you tried to smile. “But truly, it doesn’t matter anymore. I would give it up for you again.”

The man twisted his mouth, but not particularly in a smile. “My dear, I don’t want you to give up your livelihood for me.”

He propped his head in his hand, elbow resting on his pillows. “All I want is for you to realise that you can have everything should you wish it. You do not need to discard the people you love to continue to watch you enjoy.”

You took in his comments. “But Jeonghan,” you said, a little nervous, “What if…” Sighing, you mustered some strength. “Jeonghan, what if you do not like this version of me? The one who might always be a little scared of facing everyone?”

When you saw an untamed grin morphing his beautiful mouth, you had the nerve to be slightly irritated. “What?”

Reaching out, he held your chin between his fingers, “Do you really have to ask me of my feelings after what we have just done?”

He felt the warmth spreading to your face beneath his tongue, furthering his delight. “_____,” he said, “You travelled half of Paris to find me, despite your fears. You braved the daylight for me, angel, when all you found safety was in the darkness of midnight.”

His eyes were wild and free and intense and alive. “I love you, chérie. I loved you the moment I set my eyes on you in that afterparty, and I will never stop…I don’t think I could stop.”

You parted your mouth.

But then you had to close it again, because your heartbeat fluttered out of your skin, your vision going blurry.

This time, it was not the alcohol ruining it, but the blasted tears returning.

“Jeonghan,” you rasped out, resting a shaking hand over his collarbone, “I-I love you so much—”

Before the waterworks completely took over you, the film noir star leaned in, tilting his head as he enveloped his lips with yours, cherishing the hums that left you. 

Jeonghan was not leaving.

He saw the worst, and had decided to stay.

You were so scared—terrified that today would mark the worst moments of your life, but of course, this enigmatic man had saved you once again. You were sure that you would never be able to repay the debts of his kindness, but you finally realised that this came naturally when you were the object of one’s affections.

You did not realise that you were the sole receiver.

You felt yourself smiling against his mouth.

Jeonghan did not ever have to worry again—that was for sure.

Because, after the waiting, the anguish, this bubbling of anticipation, the storm had passed in the end. You were here, right next to the man you had never quite stopped feeling for.

And you knew that, despite whatever the press, the public, anyone threw at the two of you now, you and Jeonghan would survive it.

It was like you confessed—you could sacrifice the universe.

You could not sacrifice Jeonghan.

Yoon Jeonghan—the greatest film star alive, the most beloved object of the world’s affections, your once ex-lover.

Well.

Not an ex anymore.

LE FRANCE-SOIR, 14TH JANUARY, 1955

THE PRINCESS OF HOLLYWOOD’S SURPRISING RETURN IN SEUNGCHEOL FILM!

Yes, you read it right—our very own infamous star, _____, is back in our papers, but this time, she has saved herself! Our sources tell us that she has landed herself the lead role in a Choi Productions film, and is set to be the biggest release of this year! Who would have thought that with everything she had done, and experienced the consequences of, she would be back to dominate our screens! 

As well as her films, she seems to have excelled in her romantic liaisons! Here are some exclusive pictures of her and her old flame Jeonghan, hand-in-hand as they wander the streets of Paris together. It has been a couple of months since they were first seen together after five years. Many of our readers believe it will not last, just as they did not the first time.

But who knows anymore? We could not predict our Princess being disgraced, nor could we imagine her climbing back up. Perhaps this new adventure with the greatest star in the world is more than a five-year fancy.

We will keep all our readers updated on their journey together! We believe that this will not be the last time we see them together.

Perhaps they are, after all, meant to be.

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL’S PERFECT EYEBROWS RAISED TO THE ANCIENT CEILING AS HE REGARDED YOU.

You shifted under his gaze, tightening your jacket around yourself. It was not particularly cold, considering it was the beginning of the year, but the way he looked at you with a strange sense of surprise had your discomfort growing. 

Seungkwan, watching the bizarre scene, tapped his foot impatiently against the marble floors of the Louvre. “What’s with the ogling, old man? Don’t you have a film to look over?”

The director slid his withering stare to the agent. “First of all, why are you here? Last time I remembered, you were _____’s little servant, not an actor.” The accused was ready to start shouting at the comment, but he continued. “Second,” he said, looking at you again, “You are early. I was not expecting you for another half-hour.”

“Do you frown upon punctuality?” you asked him, ignoring Seungkwan’s hushed protests. 

“No, actually…I’m rather shocked when someone exudes it.” Seungcheol cocked his head. “Especially since you are known for being late.”

Biting your lip in embarrassment, you willed your hands to your sides. “I’m aware of my…behaviour…” Distant memories flashed in your mind—memories of yourself you would rather forget. “Take this as me making amends.”

“Amends?” He clicked his tongue. “We will see how quickly you will resort to your old habits.”

Your dear agent crossed his arms. “All this attitude, yet you still gave _____ the leading role.”

“Well…” he turned on his heel. “Take this as me believing your amends.” He began to walk forward, expecting you both to follow. “But you better not expect any special treatment.”

You could only sigh, looking behind you at the museum entrance, where a mass of people were gathered outside, stopped only by a dozen security guards. With one momentary glance at Seungkwan, who only rolled his eyes, the two of you trailed after the director’s steps, further into the fine hallways of the Louvre.

It was all true—Seungcheol had offered you the role that you had auditioned for, nearly two weeks ago.

You could not believe the news at first—your agent could not either, although he was the messenger. He bothered the director with numerous phone calls, making sure that he was not being fooled, but when the elder threatened to kick you off the role, the younger screamed and ended the call, confirming your suspicions.

The greatest filmmaker in Hollywood decided to place his trust in you. It felt unbelievable, considering people were still whispering about your months-old scandal. However, when the papers began to circulate news of your contract with Choi productions, the malicious gossip had begun to alleviate.

It was as Seungkwan had predicted—you only needed one big film to turn your life around.

So here you were, following the man who decided to give you a chance in the industry into a palace-turned-museum you had visited one too many times during your visit. 

What was once a quiet sanctuary in the middle of the night had become a bustling palace filled with the film crew—the hallways were decked with cameramen, makeup artists, costume designers, running around and hurrying to their tasks. Some of the film crew spoke to the extra security guards that Seungcheol had stationed, in case a manic fan managed to sneak past the entrances. There were orders being shouted at every corner, half of the requests being lost in rapid French.

“Is Seokmin back yet?” Seungcheol demanded from his head cameraman, who had rushed over to him, providing details of the scene you were beginning with. When the man informed him of why your co-star was so indisposed, the director made sure everyone heard his irritated sigh. “Jesus, just tell him to hurry up!”

As you kept sneaking glances behind you, Seungkwan followed your vision, patting you on the shoulder. “Stop fretting, _____. He said he could not come today.”

“I know…” But you could not help your slight dejection. “I hope I can see him in the evening, at least.”

“My goodness!” A scoff. “Perhaps you should save the melodrama for when the cameras start rolling.”

You shot him a glower. “Maybe Seungcheol is right in wanting to throw you out.”

As the director led you into the exhibitions’ wing, you began to take in the familiar artwork, the dozens of Psyches and Cupids now separated. Although you missed all the interpretations you had seen that night, all those months ago, you wondered where the star attraction might be. 

“_____.”

You turned to the director, who skimmed over a few details on his clipboard, provided by his assistant. “You are on makeup. Now, what I wanted was a professional working on you, but I received a special request about two days prior from a friend to work on the set cosmetics.”

“Oh,” you got out, slightly confused. “Where do I need to go?”

Seungcheol pointed at the end of the hall, down to the next room, where the costume crew was located. “Do whatever you wish, but you better not be in front of the cameras caked like a clown.” 

“Of course,” you reassured him, but the confusion had not disappeared. “Who was the friend?”

The director twisted his lips. “Enough asking, more following!” 

“All right, all right!” you rushed out, shaking your head as you followed the path he explained. The artworks still revolved around your favourite subjects as you walked closer to the grand doorways, but you did not see your most prized sculpture.

You did not see Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss until you stepped into the costume crew’s domain. 

Hundreds of outfits had been hung in racks, creating an easier way to transport all the clothing from set to set. The hall was bustling too, men and women either fixing a dress or a skirt, checking the products were up to standard, or being distracted as they admired the classical masterpieces around them.

What distracted you, though, for a single second, was your favourite sculpture, out on display in the middle of the chaos. 

What held your distraction for a lifetime was the man before it.

“Jeonghan?”

The said-actor looked up from his papers, catching sight of you.

When his smile lit up his entire face, you could have floated in the clouds of the Louvre’s ceilings, among the godly figures that were painted, watching the reunion.

Immediately you ran over to him, taking little care for the people around you as you jumped into his arms. His laughter vibrated through your body as he held you tightly, resting his head in the space of your shoulder. 

When you finally pulled away, holding him at arms’ length, you bombarded him with questions. “Why are you here? I mean, I’m delighted you are here, but you said you couldn’t come! What happened?”

“I couldn’t miss your first day of work!” His fingers locked behind your back. “I asked Cheol to let me stay on set. Since he’s a pain in everyone’s ass, he said I couldn’t be here unless I made myself useful.”

He looked around, jerking his head to everyone’s stations. “So that’s why I suggested I help with makeup and the like.”

“Ah, so you’re the friend he was complaining about,” you figured. “I trust you since your own makeup has been done quite well.”

“Quite well?” He narrowed his eyes in excessive pride. “Darling, I was expecting never ending praises of my work.”

You raised your chin. “I will sing your praises when you don’t ruin my face after we’re done.”

“I cannot promise you that.”

Glancing at the exit, you mused, “Perhaps it’s not too late to run out of here…”

Chuckling, he turned you around, gesturing for you to sit in the two free chairs beside your favourite sculpture. “Here, sit,” he said, grabbing a small bag on the makeshift tables, right next to the racks of clothing. After settling himself down, he opened the zipper, looking through the contents given by the head artist in the crew. “Right…onto the makeup…”

You watched him inspect each cosmetic, checking too intently at the bottles of foundation, circles of powder, or small tubes of lipstick that he opened and twisted. When he pulled out an eyebrow pencil, his own furrowed, puzzlement clear in his features.

“Jeonghan…” you could barely contain your smile. “Do you know what half of these products are used for?”

“Of course!” He looked intently at the pencil. “This pencil…well, obviously it is used for…hmm…” 

He then looked at you, cocking his head. “Right…” He put the pencil back in the bag. “You know what? You do not need makeup! No need to add to perfection, as I always say.”

“Are you complimenting me because you don’t know what a brow pencil is used for?”

“Brow pencil?” He gawked at the bag. “Is that what it’s called?”

“Seungcheol would have your head if he heard us,” you warned, taking the bag from the actor. “Here, I will add the makeup myself. You sit here and look pretty.”

“That,” he announced, smirking, “I can do without a problem.”

You only shook your head, bringing out the different products, starting with the powder. You made Jeonghan hold up a small mirror as you began, slowly adding the layers of makeup that you had grown accustomed to. As you continued your progress, your dear actor watched, admiring how smoothly you applied each puff of the powder, each thin coat of foundation. 

When you opened the tiny container of block mascara, you leaned into the mirror, gently stroking your lashes against the open end of the stick. It was when you were applying your mascara when you were asked a question.

“How are you feeling about today?”

You inspected your lashes—they needed more work. “Nervous,” you replied honestly, adding a little more tint. “I mean, I am excited too, but…it’s been so long.” 

“No, of course.” He shifted the mirror to your other eye. “Your last project was a couple of years back, right?”

Humming in confirmation, you added the mascara to the next set. “I know I’m a good actress, Jeonghan, but…I just…I don’t want to go back to how I was.” You closed the stick back, tossing it in the bag. “The drinking, the fighting…I can’t let it happen again.”

You then brought out the eyeliner, trying to create a perfect wing on your left eye. “If I screw this up, then…it truly would be over for me. I wouldn’t deserve anything in the future…” You paused, realising you drew the line crooked. “Damn it.”

Your dear beau smiled at your mistake. “Wait, hold this.” Taking the mirror from him, he then took the eyeliner from you. Fingers reaching out, he held your jaw, pulling you closer to him. “Let me.”

Although your heart fluttered at the action, you still got out, “Are you sure you know what you are doing?”

He slid his gaze to you. “I doubt I can ruin it any more than you have.”

“Get your hands off me this instant.”

“Wait, wait!” he said between huffs of laughter. “Just close your eyes. Let me fix it.”

“Fine,” you mumbled out, obliging him.

Jeonghan looked at you for a moment, eyes closed, waiting for him to begin.

He thought about what you had said to him just now. 

Bringing the point of the liner to the inner corner of your eye, he knew he could not shy away from the truth—what you experienced after the end of your relationship with him was possibly the roughest downfall Hollywood had seen during that decade. He may not have spoken to you during those five years, but he had certainly witnessed and heard what everyone had written and said of you. Of course, he was aware that the press had exaggerated in every article or talk show to gain a reaction, but at the end of the day, your erratic behaviour was the beginning of all the negative exposure.

But you were in front of him now—readying yourself for a Seungcheol production, as patient as a parent with a child, as peaceful as the Parisian night. You had owned your mistakes, apologised to the people you had hurt.

With a slow, yet steady pace, he carefully lined your eyelid, finishing off with a perfect wing.

You had admitted to your faults, and endeavoured to amend them. That alone can take an immense amount of strength.

“Change does not occur overnight, mon ange,” he said to you, turning to the other, naked eyelid. “I fear people will always bring up the past and make you relive it, even if your future may be secure. It is always disheartening, when they compare you to the ghost of what you were.”

With the same, tender pace, he drew the second line, comparing the original to make sure they were identical. All the while, he continued. “But you must remember that you are trying. The press can talk whatever nonsense they conjure to gain attention, but the people who care for you see that you want to change, are trying to change.”

When he was done, he admired his work—then, he admired you, your lips twisting at his words. “If we as people are not allowed to change, then the world will become a little dull, don’t you think?” 

“Besides…” he put the eyeliner back in the bag. “Even with all this change, one thing will remain stagnant.”

You felt his eyes on you, his fingers sliding to your face. 

“Always remember that my love for you will never falter.”

You opened your eyes. 

There he was, looking at you as if he held the universe in his hands.

And as you finally felt Psyche and Cupid’s presence beside the two of you, in their pose of eternal yearning, you smiled at him, confiding in an intimate truth.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Jeonghan’s smile faltered.

He was quite sure that if he said anything to you, then you would catch on to the tremble of his voice.

So he did not say anything, only closing the distance, enveloping his lips with yours. You happily complied to the sweet kiss, as if absorbing the longing of the two deities and taking it for yourselves. 

It would have gone a little further when you were interrupted by a guttural groan at the doorway. You broke away from your actor’s lips, whirling your head to see Seungcheol glaring at you two.

“Just when I thought I could trust Jeonghan,” he began, crossing his arms, “He goes and plays tonsil tennis with my lead actress.”

Your beloved grinned as you hid your head in embarrassment. “It was your fault for trusting me, Cheol. You should know better after knowing me so long.”

“My mistake, you bastard,” seethed the elder. “And as for you, _____! Tell me your makeup is done or I am firing you this second.”

Instantly you shot up from your seat. “Jesus, Seungcheol, I’m ready!” you exclaimed, dusting at your dress. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Hurry up,” was his next order before thundering out of the room.

Jeonghan waved him off as you sighed heavily. “Don’t fret too much over him. He won’t do anything, really.”

“That’s because he actually likes you,” you countered, touching your lips. “Damn! We forgot the lipstick.”

“No, no, the look is better without it.” A glimmer appeared in his gaze. “Even better that we didn’t add it before, or else it would have stained.”

“How resourceful of you,” you monotoned, as if your cheeks did not burn. “Now, let’s go before he has both our heads. I refuse to die after I have just landed a good role.”

Both of you exited the costume hall, entering back to the main set. The bustling of the camera crew instantly began the moment Seungcheol began voicing orders, humming in approval at his lighting crew, who offered him suggestions. He then addressed everyone as you came into view. “All right, all right, everybody, let’s get into positions!”

He pointed his pen at you. “_____, I want you at the first doorway. This is the scene where she’s waiting for Richard to arrive, and admires the artwork around her.” 

“Perfect,” you said, walking to your position. 

He shot his assistant a withering look. “And for God’s sake, get Seokmin out of the goddamn lavatory this instant! We’ll be finished with the whole movie at this rate!” The poor man only nodded hurriedly before running out of the hall. “Where’s the slate?”

But the camera assistant who held the slate was already before you, waiting for the director’s orders as you prepared yourself, going over the lines one last time. 

Seungkwan and Jeonghan were right behind the cameras, watching you practise. The former raised his fist, a signal of his belief in you. You sent him a quick nod, letting yourself smile at him because if there was one person you had to thank for this opportunity, then it was your dear agent, and even dearer friend.

The latter only had his hands in his trench coat pockets, eyes never straying from you.

“Right!” Seungcheol clapped his hands, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Let us do _____’s solo scene first.” He settled in the seat behind the main camera, held up by a huge tripod. 

Signalling the camera assistant, she commenced, “Scene 4, Take 1!” With the click of the slate, she hurried out of view.

This was it.

The final call was going to begin.

You locked your hands behind your back, allowing yourself one last look at your ex-lover. 

No, not ex-lover—never ex. 

He smiled at you. An action so little had every nerve in your body easing.

You could do this.

“Lights!”

You could not believe you were finally here. 

If you had told yourself that you would be in this position the moment you entered this mystical city, you would have never had faith in such a prediction. Your chances had vanished, your fortune had run dry. You truly thought that it was over for you when you landed in this fated city,  thinking that you were begging to an absent god, relying on the empty promises of strangers. 

But you were okay. You were going to be all right.

Because you deserved this. 

“Camera!”

And as your film noir star had rightfully told you, it was not going to be easy, changing from your old, hard habits. It would be a long path, perhaps filled with the same old adversaries. The press was still there, perhaps it always will be. Now, you would not have to fight it alone.

You would have Yoon Jeonghan by your side—and he was not going anywhere anytime soon.

This time, you would never let him go.

You slipped him one last smile before your eyes slid to the camera.

You were ready.

“ACTION!”

a u t h o r ’ s  n o t e : hello everyone i can’t believe y’all have reached the end!! it means so much to me especially for this fic because i never thought paris would ever be finished :’) i have so many people to thank for bringing this work to life—chia, your paris! chan fanart and drawings have been on my mind for the past two years, and all your gushing encouraged me to keep writing (even tho i floored chan im so sorry). Secondly, this is for the Lysol GC! The way you bitches bullied me everytime I scrapped paris since 2020…. HORRENDOUS…but from the bullying to reading over my drafts and encouraging me everytime i hit a block, i would never have finished this fic if it wasn’t for you three <33 and lastly, thank you YSL Jeonghan—you did what my previous ult biases could not inspire me to write !! thank you once again, everyone, for reading, and let me know if y’all enjoyed <3

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld​ @dalkyeom​ @sysymei​ @alaypsy23​ @belladaisies​ @jjeongddol​@sparklyshuji @forcoups​ @ilovesungjun​ @wonwoo24​ @scandal-in-bohemia​ @hopefulchick​ @superbbananananana​ @onedumbho3​ @fragmentof-indifference​ @cuntycheol​ @rubywonu​ @if-i-like-i-reblog​ @yoonzinoooo​ @jungwoos-luvr​ @crookedwolfruins​ @leclercloverbot​ @alexai 

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan smut #seventeen x reader #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #seventeen angst #jeonghan angst #yoon jeonghan angst #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan

[wongyuuu]

lens of ice | yjh | one

pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, smut in the next part word count: 12k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: jeonghan is kind of reckless with his body a/n: i've been writing this one for so long now and though it's not finished yet, i decided to post half of it, as a way to motivate myself to finish it. i really wanna thank @ressonancee first for giving me idea and second for helping me through all of this and putting up my crazy ass mind 💓

part one | part two (final)

The light buzzing of the fluorescent lights made him uncomfortable, it was like a premonition of what was to come. Something bad, he was sure.

Jeonghan was many things in his life, stubborn perhaps being the most obvious one, but dumb wasn't one then. He knew that his ankle was fucked up, that he was probably the cause of it. Too many hours of training, never giving himself enough time to heal before he got the ice again. He didn't know exactly how bad it was, that was for the doctor in front of him to say, but Jeonghan knew that nothing good would come out of the man's mouth.

"It's worse than I thought," the man said with a sigh, taking off his glasses "It's not just your ankle anymore, it's also your knee. And, I could be wrong, but considering the way you're walking, I'd say that you're right ankle also started to bother you"

Jeonghan hung his head. He was an athlete and he knew that he was being reckless, beyond actually. He should have gone to his coach the second he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. But he just went home, took an ice bath, and kept the whole thing to himself. Even on the following days, when the pain didn't go away at all, he still chose to keep his mouth shut and go to practice every day. And his coach, unaware of his condition, kept pushing him during practice. 

Not that he needed anyone to be harsh on him, Jeonghan did all of that on his own. But having someone else do that for him as well brought out a different desire for perfection. One that came from a dark place to show someone else that he was good, to prove people wrong.

"Can I still compete?" was all he asked, it was the only thing that mattered to him "Can I make it to the Olympics? It's the last one for me, after this I retire"

The look on the doctor's face wasn't reassuring, Jeonghan knew that his next words wouldn't be the ones he wanted. He wasn't about to hear what he needed.

"If, and only if, you have surgery, take physical therapy seriously, and rest as we instruct you, there might be a possibility. Small, but it exists" 

"When can I have the surgery?"

You stared at your computer screen, a hand on your forehead as you read the email your boss sent you. You sat at your desk, not really knowing what to do.

"Seungkwan!" you called without looking up "Did you get this email too?"

Just to make sure that you weren't crazy, you read it once again. The third time in less than five minutes. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't change.

"Yeah. I'm excited but scared…"

That was enough to get your attention.

"Why?" 

Closing your laptop, you stood up moving closer to Seungkwan. Unlike you, who read the email many times, Seungkwan had already started his research. Not that he really needed to, everyone at the office knew that he was a huge fan of figure skating. So of course he would know all about Yoon Jeonghan.

The nation's pride and joy in figure skating, at least in the make category.

"Why scared? I thought everyone loved him"

It was impossible to look away from the picture Seungkwan had open on his computer. Jeonghan's face really was something else, as if he had been carved in marble by some ancient Greek artist. From his dark hair covering his eyes, giving him almost a mysterious vibe, to the way his lips were slightly crooked into a smile. You had to give it to him, the man was absolutely stunning. No wonder he left a trail of fans everywhere he went.

"He isn't the biggest enthusiast when it comes to the press. He barely gives interviews so I guess doing a documentary about him won't be easy"

Seungkwan kept scrolling, reading the latest news on Jeonghan. But the truth was that there wasn't any. His social media was also rarely updated, the last post was from months before.

"Well, good luck to you"

"What do you mean? You're the one in charge"

You just shook your head. The problem was Jeonghan honestly, you barely knew anything about him, though Seungkwan's words didn't help the case. The thing was that you barely knew anything at all about sports, in general, much less about figure skating. Lack of knowledge was an easy fix. The real issue was the fact that a documentary on a sport was way too different from what you usually did.

"I'm not doing this one. I have other projects I want to work on. Plus, this is too sudden. They want us to start tomorrow, Seungkwan. Do you really think that it's possible to have anything done by tomorrow?" he shook his head and you nodded in agreement "Precisely, so I'm sure that if we talk with Jihoon…"

"Nothing will change" 

A curse left your lips at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around you faced the small man. Jihoon had his arms crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes that told you that no matter what he wouldn't let you off the hook. Still, you had to try.

"Jihoon, I'm not your sports person. And it's too soon. I don't anything about Jeonghan or figure skating"

Jihoon simply shook his head at you.

"They want a different approach than the average sports documentary, so I recommended you. I'm sending Seungkwan with you because I know this isn't your area of expertise, though I highly suggest you do some sort of research" he turned around to leave with a wave of his hand then turned around for a second, as if remembering something "Hansol will be your camera and sound guy. They asked for a small crew"

With a salute Jihoon left.

"Fuck"

You couldn't take your eyes away from the crutches under Jeonghan's arms and the orthopedic boot around his left leg. There was not a single article that pointed to surgery. There were plenty about his constant injuries though. Seungkwan had the same look on his face, of pure shock. 

"Are you okay?" you asked once he made himself comfortable on the couch.

Jeonghan sat sideways on the couch, his leg propped up over cushions. The position looked weird but he didn't seem to mind.

"Ah, this" he pointed at his leg nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing "Yeah, it's okay. Had to get the surgery done in order to make it to the next Olympic"

Nodding, you looked around. His apartment wasn't as big as you had expected. In fact, the three of you stood closely together in the living room, a bit too small for all the gear Hansol said he needed.

"Put your things down, let's talk. I don't know how this is going to work"

Me neither, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. Thankfully, Seungkwan was there to help you.

"Before we start any real interview or conversation, I think we have to tell you that this was very last minute for us. We only heard about this documentary yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon" he used his kindest voice, his voice laced with concern and a hit of fear, maybe "yn is in charge, she's the documentarist, she'll be asking the questions and dictating the overall direction that we're going to take with the documentary. I'm Seungkwan and that's Hansol. This is the smallest crew he could assemble"

Seungkwan was giving too many explanations, you felt. But he also wasn't wrong. What he did was normal, he was just introducing the crew. Maybe you were a little irritated by the way you were tossed into this job, without someone giving you enough time to prepare. Sixteen hours were barely enough.

"I assume my… reputation has gotten to you," Jeonghan said, a small smile on his lips.

A reputation he had indeed. Jeonghan was known for not liking the press and journalists. He avoided them at all costs and once, on one occasion, was seen being rude. And honestly, you had to give him a pass for it. Pushing the camera away from his face, almost delicately, could barely be considered rude at such a moment. There were way too many cameras around, all of them on his face, trying to get some sort of pronouncement on why he had not made it to the podium. 

And that had been years before but people still remembered him by that one moment. But what exactly did they expect? He underperformed, came in fourth place, and injured himself in the process. Was anyone expecting a happy and bright Jeonghan? 

"You can be comfortable around me. A conversation like this is fine. I just don't like being swarmed" 

Though his words were inviting, his face told a whole different story. He clearly didn't want this documentary.

"All of our interactions will be recorded," you told him, not leaving room for arguments on his end "These first few minutes aren't, out of courtesy and so that we can set our goals. I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything, or something that you don't want to be filmed, either right now or before we turn the cameras on. Once we start, we won't stop"

Jeonghan adjusted his position on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. It was like he was measuring your every move. He didn't like your tone, and how aggressive you were towards him. 

"I know this was last minute and I apologize for that. This is going to be my last run and, as much as I hate to admit, I'm a bit sensitive to it.

With furrowed eyebrows, you nodded. Jeonghan knew that you didn't believe him or that you cared about his reasons. He knew that the sole reason you were there was because someone made you. 

"Will you need to film my family?" 

"Yes, usually film family members to get a complete idea of someone's life" 

Turning around you nodded at Hansol, telling him to start setting up. With a shake of his head, Seungkwan moved to help him.

"I don't want my family to know the extent of my injuries. So if you only want them for context, to know about me as a child, that's fine. But they can't know anything about this" Jeonghan pointed at his leg "I've been hiding this for a very long time and I'd like to keep it that way"

You dropped your bag on the couch, eyes tired and mind filled with one too many thoughts. The day had been easier than you expected, far more so. 

Based on Seungkwan's words you had expected to fight with Jeonghan in a way. It was a documentary so you needed him to talk and talk he did. There was no question unanswered or dodged, all of his answers were precise and consistent. All of it had sounded fake like he had rehearsed them a million times.

Even if you thought that your question had been good, and had caught him off guard, Jeonghan seemed to be fully prepared for it. He didn't hesitate for a second. 

In the few hours you spent around him, you finally managed to understand the fascination most people had with him. He was handsome, yes, but that was just the very basic and surface level of him. Beyonce that he was also good with his words. It was hard to tell that he was lying because he talked with conviction. After just one interview you were sure that if one day Jeonghan decided to tell you that your mom wasn’t actually your mother, you’d somehow believe him.

And the man knew all of it. He was aware of his beauty and charm, of what it did to normal people, and he used it in his favor. Jeonghan knew that most people couldn’t resist a handsome talented man. And that was a part he was all too willing to fill.

“Yeah,” you answered your phone, not bothering to see who it was, certain that it was just Jihoon.

“How was it today?” he sounded just as tired as you felt and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.

“Fine”

“Just fine?”

You turned on your back, facing the ceiling, or at least whatever you could see with the lights turned off - not a whole lot, to be honest.

“He lied through his teeth today. There was no manager, and no coach around, though I do remember him saying someone would come. The person never showed up” you sighed “Seungkwan hates and Vernon probably thinks I’m a crazy bitch. So yeah, just fine”

Jihoon laughed on the other side of the line and you felt the little butterflies in your stomach come to life. You rolled your eyes at yourself. How pathetic it was of you, to have a crush on your boss. How very much bland of you.

Growing up, like a lot of girls that were influenced by way too much TV, you had wanted the be the odd one out. The I’m one of the guys kind of girl, or the one who refused to wear any kind of makeup or even come close to the pink because that was just girly for you. And now there you were, in love with the color pink, finding excuses to wear pretty dresses, and having a crush on your boss.

Teenage you would throw eggs at your head if she had the chance.

“Okay, but how was Jeonghan?” Jihoon pressed even further.

You sighed and closed your eyes, covering over face with your hand.

“He was polite, answered all of my questions, had a pleasant smile the entire time, and only asked for a bathroom break while we were there. Offered us food and drinks. He was fine” you said again, emphasizing the fine.

You could picture Jihoon, nodding his head and looking at the floor, probably thinking of what to ask next.

“Why would Seungkwan hate you? And why would Vernon think you’re a bitch?”

“Seungkwan thinks I went too hard on Jeonghan and Vernon just trusts Seungkwan’s judgment and goes with it”

Jihoon laughed again and you heard him moving around.

“Classic yn, going at someone while she’s angry. At least your anger was sort of directed to the right person”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you sat up.

You liked to think that you didn’t act that way all the time. In your mind, most of the time, you were able to hide your anger and just play nice like your mother had taught you to be. Jihoon’s words told a completely different story.

“Have some rest, there’s still a lot of work to do. Tomorrow you’re going with him to rehab, right?” Jihoon paused for a second and you heard a female voice in the back, you couldn’t make out what she said but you were sure of who it belonged to “I have to go. We’ll talk next week”

The line was disconnected and leaned back on the couch again. The problem of having a crush on your boss was also the fact that he had a long-time girlfriend and soon he was supposed to be marrying her.

You groaned, wondering if you had gone far enough that there was no going back from this crush.

You sat across from Jeonghan once again, the position exactly the same as the first day. But this time you chose to be less irritable.

The other day you were frustrated because you had to give up other projects to be able to accompany Jeonghan and that, thinking rationally, had nothing to do with him. He asked for a specific documentary filmmaker profile and you were chosen by the studio. Maybe it was more your fault than his. But it was also a no-return kind of situation. The job was assigned to you and there was nothing you could do to change it. So the least you could do was do your best and pray that it didn’t take a turn for the worse.

And, if anything, the conversation with Jihoon helped you focus on work. It wouldn't be the first time you were doing something you didn't want to do and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So you decided that the best thing to do was just work, showing your professional side that had been left aside before.

Jeonghan looked at you the same way, eyes serious as if he was ready for a new attack.

"Thank you," he said to Vernon, who had just placed the microphone inside his jacket, so that he could pick up the sound well, but it was not visible to the camera.

You turned to Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for confirmation from the two that you could begin. You received a wave from each of them after they checked that the cameras were on and recording.

You took a deep breath and turned to Jeonghan.

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," you said "I wasn't fair to you. I was irritated by things that had nothing to do with you, but I somehow decided that they did"

Everyone in Jeonghan's living room seemed to hold their breath, you included. You didn't know what to expect from Jeonghan, not really. You had been anything but ungracious with him, in a way that to most people meant that any door between you two had closed.

Jeonghan decided, at that moment, that he had two options: a) he could let the previous day dictate how all interactions between the two of you from then on would be, and it would be many months of a bad relationship that would bring no benefit to anyone involved in it; or b) he could accept your apology, which seemed sincere enough, and let go of the discomfort he felt.

Option b was actually the only possible choice.

“Okay” he finally smiled “my reputation isn’t the best, either way”

Seungkwan and Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if a huge gray cloud had moved away and the weather was beginning to clear.

“No, your reputation had no influence. I was the one who lost my hand because of my problems and for that, I apologize” you said and you were sincere in your words “But Jeonghan, I need you to stop seeing me as your enemy. I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

“You think I wasn’t honest?” he tilted his head as if analyzing you.

“In the same way that you don't want your reputation to affect the way I see you, I need you to not let the way you see other journalists affect the way you see me. I want to tell your story, however you want it told, but I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

He was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed on his hands. His hair covered his face, so it was hard to get an idea of what was going through his head.

You looked at Seungkwan, seeking confirmation that you hadn’t been rude. He seemed to be as lost as you were, but the small smile he gave you was enough to make your restless heart rest for a second.

“What if I say something and regret it later?”

It was the first time Jeonghan looked insecure and it was a strange sight, but much more realistic than the other version of him.

“We can edit it, it’s not a problem. I said that because I was angry” you said apologetically once again.

“Can we throw it all away and start again?”

Jeonghan smiled and you had no choice but to smile along with him.

“Let’s start with what’s happening now,” you said, folding your legs under your body, notebook open to a blank page and a pen ready to take notes “You underwent surgery not long ago, right? Why?"

Jeonghan took a deep breath, eyes closed for a second before placing all his attention on you. His gaze was almost too intense. You had to force yourself not to look anywhere but at him.

“A few years ago I fell during training and twisted my ankle. At the time, it wasn't a big deal and if I had stayed quiet for a few weeks, and did everything right, I wouldn't have had any problems. But I couldn't do it, I was preparing for a competition. I didn't tell anyone about the problem and just endured the pain. When I participated in the competition I fell again and that only made the situation worse. Today I have a problem with my ligament and tendon.”

With every word that left his mouth, you felt like a lump was forming in your throat, and with every second it was getting bigger.

Unlike the day before, it didn't seem like Jeonghan was lying, but you didn't know if you wanted the truth he was sharing. Even if it was a lie, a character he had created, the version of Jeonghan from before was a little brighter, a little more present in the moment. The version of him that was in front of you, that you imagined to be the closest to reality, was almost sad, detached from everything.

“Because I forced my right knee a lot, trying to compensate for the lack of my left one, I developed a problem with that one too”

“You’ve never talked about your injuries before, right?” he nodded “Why talk now?”

He was silent again, his lower lip caught between his teeth. That was a great question, one that not even Jeonghan himself knew exactly how to answer.

“I'm not sure, to be honest” he laughed a little. Instead of looking directly at the camera, his eyes were focused on you “Someone came up with the idea at some point and it didn't seem like a bad one, but I think it will only work if I make it to the Olympics.”

“Is that the ultimate goal then, to get to the Olympics?”

He shook his head, that fearless, confident look you had only seen in photos finally making itself known.

“No, the ultimate goal is to win”

As promised, Jeonghan waited for you, Seungkwan, and Vernon outside the clinic. He was nowhere to be seen, really, but the car his assistant informed you of was parked right in front of the door.

You were the first one to exit your own car, while Seungkwan and Vernon prepared the camera to follow along. You could only assume he was the manager. Terribly young for a manager, sure, but a manager nonetheless.

“I assume you’re in” he extended a hand to you “I’m Joshua”

“Hi”

The exchange of words with Joshua was quick, no more than half a dozen. You didn't have much to talk about with him and he wasn't your priority, at least not at the moment. Later, at some other time, talking to him would be great. He had introduced himself as a friend/manager of Jeonghan. Having his point of view would be great and could contribute a lot, but your eyes couldn't leave Jeonghan.

His hair was tied back, but a cap covered much of his face. He had barely said hi to you or the other two. It wasn't a big surprise. While it was true that made up to a certain extent, you didn't expect him to simply welcome you with open arms, but his reaction was strange - or as strange as the reaction of a person you knew little, or nothing, could be.

“Can we film it?” You asked.

Jeonghan stopped and turned towards you. He had forgotten that you and your team would attend his first physical therapy session, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Since the last time you saw each other, Jeonghan spent hours on end watching documentaries made by you and they all had one thing in common: they were almost like video logs. You followed everyone around documenting every tiny aspect of their lives. All those people told their stories and didn't seem afraid of having their lives exposed. And perhaps for people who didn't lead lives where they had been exposed too much, sincerity came easily.

For Jeonghan, that was never the case.

Being treated as the future, a promise of the sport, had brought a lot of harm and situations that neither he, nor anyone else, had the option to deal with or even, perhaps, ignore.

Cameras were pointed at him, rumors spread and suddenly he wasn't just Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who started skating because it would annoy his little sister. He became someone from whom people expected something.

As much as he could, Jeonghan tried to live up to all of those expectations, realistic or not. He tried to be as perfect as possible, on the ice and off of it. And it only took one day of silence, a few rude unanswered questions, and one bad performance — which had no real effect — for everything to collapse.

“You said you would film anything and everything.”

You grimaced, clearly regretful and maybe even a little embarrassed. It wasn't his intention, but he found your reaction funny anyway.

In your place, Jeonghan would have done much worse.

“Do you think it’s important?”

You nodded, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Jeonghan laughed, he wanted to hold your head to make sure it was still in the right place.

“The documentary is about your return, so filming you here is important. I asked because it's your first session. I heard it can be painful.”

“It will probably be uncomfortable” he couldn’t deny that “Let’s do it like this, you can record it, if in the end you think it’s bad or that it doesn’t fit, we won’t use it

You quietly followed Jeonghan and Joshua out of the clinic, Seungkwan and Vernon trailing behind you talking in hushed tones. It was no surprise that they were talking. Truth was rehab had been brutal. You knew that it could get hard for Jeonghan, that it could be painful but nothing really prepared you for what you saw. And if it was hard for you to watch him go through that, it was unimaginable to understand how it was for him.

Throughout the entire session, Jeonghan looked in pain, his grunts and the scowl on his face growing with each passing second and new movement. Midway through you told Seungkwan and Vernon to stop filming. You had seen enough and you had more than what you needed for the documentary. 

You would only film his rehab again when he was no longer in such pain, you decided. Out of the many things you learned about Jeonghan was that showing his weaknesses wasn’t something he was too fond of or even comfortable with the idea of it. So there was no real reason to keep recording and you couldn’t stand it either. 

While you watched his face contort in pain, you felt something inside your chest tighten. 

It had never been a real issue before with you. You had always managed to separate your personal emotions from the things you felt while working. More often than not you told stories that were hard to listen to, took someone’s suffering, and put it on the TV for the entire world to see in hopes that maybe a part of their lives would be changed. You had always been able to detach yourself from that. 

However while inside with Jeonghan, such a thing was not possible. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes grow wet and for a short while, you couldn’t breathe either. It made no sense really. Why did it hurt to see this man, you knew nothing about, in pain to the point you wanted to cry? Why did it sadden you so much that he was limping harder than before?

You wanted to approach him, ask if he was okay, if it had been too much. But it was out of line, it was one that you knew you shouldn’t cross. There was this itch though, in the back of your mind, begging you to just ask, to just take a step closer to him. 

It happened so suddenly that you didn’t even see it happening. One second it was just the five of you in the parking lot, in the next there were reporters with mics and cameras pointed at Jeonghan. You noticed how Jeonghan raised his shoulders at the same time he lowered his head. He couldn’t see in front of himself, you were certain. 

Joshua put an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulder while he used the other one to keep them away from him. Not that it was of any use. One of the cameras was directly under his face as if trying to get an expression, anything at all, that could show his discomfort with the situation. From somewhere behind you there were flashes. 

"Do you believe your injury was a result of your own carelessness?"  someone asked. 

You felt your blood run cold for a second and you froze in place, Seungkwan and Vernon behind you. 

"Do you think your skating career is over after such devastating injuries?" someone followed. 

"Did you regret pushing yourself so hard during training, knowing it led to your injury?" 

"How did it feel to watch other skaters progress while you were stuck in rehab?" 

"Are you worried that your injury will define your career more than your achievements on the ice?" 

The questions got progressively worse and you wanted to scream at them to just shut up, and stop. How could they just ambush someone like that with those questions? It made no sense at all. And though you knew that it would cause more harm than good you wished Jeonghan would tell them all to fuck off.

Instead, he kept his head low and just slowly walked to his car while ignoring everyone around him, all the careless words being thrown at him. 

You tried to take a step forward but were held back by Seungkwan, who gripped the strap of your purse. He didn’t say a word, just shook his head. 

“They can’t just do that to him” you almost cried

“If you say anything, it might only make matters worse,” Hansol said, his voice sad. 

That sudden need to protect Jeonghan felt weird but oddly natural as well. Weird because you knew that you shouldn’t, because you hardly knew the guy. Natural because it felt as if you had always done that like it was just second nature to you. 

“He is used to this,” Seungkwan said, still not letting go of your purse. 

“He shouldn’t be! They are barely treating him like a human!”

By the time you turned around, Jeonghan was already inside the car leaving the parking lot. 

The clock on the top of your phone screen told you that it was 4:37 am. You hadn't even realized that you had spent so many hours still awake. 

As soon as you got home from the rehab with Jeonghan, you took a quick shower, ate the leftovers from the night before, and started to look up Jeonghan’s performances.

The man was a celebrity amongst athletes since he was a child. He was always seen as a promise of the sport. He was good from the start. Performing moves that he was still too young to do, entering competitions boys his age never really competed in and somehow managing to either come up to the podium or even winning some of them.

Everything was displayed online. Yearly competitions, practices, and small moments of his life.

Jeonghan's entire life, at least the sports part, was exposed on the internet for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to see. And it wasn't just the competitions, having videos of that part seemed completely normal and expected.

What was scary was all the other content. Some photos of him in school uniform, not one where he was actually looking at the camera, but ones that were clearly taken in secret. Another one from when he seemed to have simply gone out for coffee with Joshua.

You knew he had fans, that he was liked wherever he went, and that he was always followed, but that seemed a bit much.

In reality, watching videos of the competitions was like a gateway to everything that came after.

You knew very little about Jeonghan, only what you had read about in all the articles that you found and all of them had one thing in common: Jeonghan was a huge diva, who thought he was superior to everyone. But after seeing how he had been treated that day, as soon as he got out of rehab, you knew it wasn't like that. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere, one second the parking lot was empty and the next it was full of journalists, shouting things and asking questions that to many would seem harmless, but were clearly intended to hurt.

Instead of watching more competition videos, not that there were many you hadn't watched yet, you decided to look for the famous video of him treating journalists badly.

You had never found one so easily on the internet. You just typed "Jeonghan and journalists" into the search bar and it was the first video to appear.

It was a scene very similar to the previous day. Jeonghan was in the parking lot, walking towards the guy when he was surrounded by several journalists.

"You didn't get the podium today, are you disappointed?" one of them asked and that was the most harmless question he got. “Did you really try hard or did you think you would get a high score because you were the favorite?” “Why did you fall in such a simple jump?” “Don't you think it was an amateur's performance?”

You didn't want to keep listening to all those meaningless questions, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jeonghan. He still had short hair at the time, even covering his eyebrows. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were hard, and his gaze was focused straight ahead, as he walked slowly to his car. Joshua tried as best he could to control the journalists with their microphones and cameras, but he was just one man against many. Finally, after what felt like ages, two security guards appeared, pushing the journalists away as they began shouting profanities in Jeonghan's direction.

Could those people even consider themselves journalists? Real journalists, who took their work seriously?

There is a very fine line between being a journalist who asks incisive questions and one who is completely disrespectful to the athlete. And those people were anything but professional.

It was no surprise that after that Jeonghan refused to give interviews.

That whole situation happened years before, at the beginning of the previous Olympic cycle, but even so, it was still a moment that haunted him. People remembered him as just that guy, someone who refused to answer simple questions. But what exactly did these people expect? That he was all smiles when he failed to reach the podium, even though he was the favorite in the competition? That he smiles when he hurts?

Finally, you managed to understand why he acted that way, and why his answers were so polite and direct. Jeonghan didn't want to leave room for interpretation. Not that he had much of a choice. People only see what they want to see, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.

Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes away from your back, he followed your every move. You stood next to Joshua, talking to him quietly, his friend showing you something on his phone. He felt something scratch at his neck. This new and unknown feeling. 

It was unusual for Jeonghan, to want to have someone’s undivided attention. It was usually the other way around and he was never willing to do it, with anyone. And then there you were and suddenly he didn’t like that you were talking with Joshua. 

It wasn’t like you seemed to be having fun either. You moved around with intention, your eyes always focused, your words and questions firm and straight to the point. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like that with you. If your professional persona always took over who you were in other moments. 

His curiosity was huge but his courage to ask was very little. 

“She may seem like it, but she won’t bite your head off if you talk with her,” someone said on his left.

Seungkwan stood at his side, his hands clasped in front of him while he rocked on his heels. 

“I think she will,” Jeonghan said. 

Seungkwan took his reply as an invitation to sit. 

“You know, in the office, people call her the ice queen” he too looked in your direction, at your serious expression "She’s like that most of the time”

Jeonghan looked at Seungkwan expectantly, he knew there was a but coming soon. All he needed to do was wait long enough. 

“She didn’t want to take this job, our boss forced her to. She’s more into storytelling, real people, with real issues”

“Am I not a real person?”

The offense in Jeonghan’s voice made Seungkwan almost fall off his chair. He didn’t intend for his words to sound like that.

“Of course you are” he laughed nervously while trying to explain it as best as he could “If it were up to her, she would focus this documentary on you, on how you started skating, why, what attracted you to it, how it affected the rest of your life. But your team doesn’t want that, I think. We were told that you already gave many interviews on the matter so there’s no point in talking about it again. They want us to focus on your recovery and then you make it to the Olympics. She’s trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes someone watch it”

Jeonghan nodded, feeling guilty. It had been his request to not the documentary so focused on the past and more on what was happening in the moment

“She also doesn’t like sports and hated the idea of the job, but that's beside the point”

Both of them laughed, eyes still on your back now that you talked with Vernon, giving him new instructions.

“I’ll make sure that she gets to do the kind of documentary she thinks is best”

Seungkwan stood up, a big smile on his lips.

“Who could have known that the ice queen and the ice prince aren’t actually that cold”

After months of just rehab, it’s finally time for Jeonghan to get back on the ice and it pained you a little to admit that you were looking forward to it. The videos you watched could only take you so far, you wanted to actually see the real thing. Him, in action.

Of course, you know that he wasn’t going to be able to do a third of the things he did on those videos. But you wanted to see him in his element, how he would behave when he was finally around the thing he loved the most in the world — his words, not yours. 

The one thing you were able to learn from Jeonghan was the fact that he indeed loved what he did. Like most people, sometimes he hated it. It was the thing he was most passionate about, yes, but it was also his job, so there were days when he just hated and the mere idea of leaving the house was too much. 

It was too hard to be a professional athlete, it demanded way too much of him. Of anyone, really. Sometimes he wanted to be like everyone else and just not put everything he was into it. But if he did that, he lost one single day, he was scared that he could lose an entire year and maybe that year turned into two and then he could lose his chance to go to the Olympics. 

And he only had one change left. 

So, instead of focusing on much he didn’t want to do, Jeonghan decided to focus on the fact that there was only a year ahead of him and he would be able to do whatever he wanted and have as many down days as he wanted. 

He didn’t know what he wanted to do and what would be the after for him but it gave him something to look forward to. 

“Are you nervous?” you asked him.

Jeonghan was someone who was mostly quiet. You noticed that once he started to feel more comfortable he was one to start the conversation and even crack a few jokes here and there. Seungkwan had been the first person he kind of opened up to, which had left you a hint of jealousy. You wanted to be one he talked with mostly because it was your job but also just because. 

However, he had been especially quiet that day. The three of you went to meet him at his apartment. The idea was that you’d follow him the entire day, from the moment he woke up, to when he went to the doctor to get the final clear and then finally to the ring. 

He had talked very little, his eyes always focused somewhere else. It was clear that his mind was traveling somewhere far, far away. So you left him be, quietly watching him just move around. A silent shooting day, you told yourself  In the end, however, you had a job and he needed to do the talking.

“It’s been too long,” he said, his eyes never really leaving the ice “I don’t know if I can still do it”

You laughed, causing him to finally look at you, eyes wide on his face. He tried to look serious but the corners of his lips were turned slightly up.

“You just don’t feel confident, but you didn’t forget it” you looked at his ankle, it was still weird to see him without any sort of protection around it “How’s your ankle?”

He just shook his head and in that moment you chose to believe that he was said It doesn’t bother me anymore. 

Through the interviews, you found out that Jeonghan is the kind of person to suffer in silence. It was clear from all of his previous injuries, how he competed while in pain and only ever said anything when it was almost too late.

“Do you think I can still do it?”

There was something in his voice like he was almost on the verge of breaking. He sounded vulnerable in a way that was entirely too new, in a way you wanted to push Vernon and his camera away because that was a part of him you knew he didn’t want the world to see. 

Instead, you reached for his arm, patting it a couple of times, hoping that your touch, as ungraceful and awkward as it was, was able to soothe him, even if it was just for a moment. 

“I was watching some of your competitions last night, again, you know? And that guy? He’s still in there, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen him”

You weren’t just saying that to cheer him up, your words were true. You had seen that version of him, little glimpses here and there. He was in the way his eyes suddenly changed and it was like he owned the entire room, in the way he suddenly turned confident, in the way he was charming in a way that was almost sickening but all too enchanting either way. 

Whether or not he believed it himself, Yoon Jeonghan was a force to be reckoned with.

"What kind of kid were you?" you asked, looking up at Jeonghan. 

He sat opposite to you, bent down to tie the laces on his skates. His hair covered his face, you were sure that he couldn't see much, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Maybe he had just gotten used to it. 

Four months had gone by since you started to follow Jeonghan and even before that, he had kept his hair long. And you hated to admit that he looked good, too good even.

"What kind do you think I was?" He smirked at you for a second before going back to his skates.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile. 

"This is not how it works. I ask the questions here"

Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, giving you his full attention. His smirk did something to your insides. It felt tight and loose at the same time, like wild butterflies running around on your skin. 

"Come on, humor me"

You pretended to be in deep thought, Jeonghan as a child had been something you thought about for a long time now. Even though he was very serious most of the time there were these small moments where he looked like a kid ready to do something he wasn't supposed to.

"I can only think of you as a troublemaker” you smiled, closing your notes knowing well that you’d make no progress at all with the filming “I’ve seen pictures of you and a child and although you looked very cute, I’m sure you were a handful to your mother”

Jeonghan laughed, throwing his head back and in that moment he looked so carefree.

Even since the start of the documentary Jeonghan had used his most serious expressions, a frown always taking over his beautiful features. But he had been back on the ice for a few days already and in those days he had looked the happiest you had seen him yet.

Of course, he still hasn’t practiced the way he wanted or the way he used to. He still needed to take things slowly: fewer hours, less power in the movements. But it was undeniable that he was a completely different person.

It wasn’t that he had been in a bad mood every single day but there was just something about him in his element, of him doing something he was obviously passionate about, that was so enchanting that it became impossible to look away from him.

“Where did you see those pictures?”

“You do know that I had to google you because I had no idea who you were, right?”

One thing you managed to learn about Jeonghan is the fact that, if in the right mood, he is a trickster and most of all, a flit. You weren’t even sure that he was aware of what he was doing, it seemed like second nature to him.

He put a hand over his chest, faking being in pain. His face contorted and a pout on his lips.

“I thought we were getting to know each other”.

Seungkwan coughed by your side, finally making you remember that there were people around you and that the entire interaction between you and Jeonghan was being recorded.

There was something about Jeonghan that always seemed to make you forget where you were, that maybe there were people around you. You could only suppose that it was the charm of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew how to sweet talk someone.

And Jeonghan knew what he was doing, what kind of words or looks could get a reaction from a woman.

Most of the time while around Jeonghan you had to remind your heart to be calm and quiet. Being around him was a temporary arrangement, as soon as the Olympics started said arrangement would be done and you’d have to go back to your normal life. One that didn’t include Yoon Jeonghan. And you also knew that there wasn’t space for you in his life.

“We’re going to set up the cameras around the ice,” Seungkwan said awkwardly while dragging Verno by the hand.

You watched as the two walked away from you, whispering in secrecy. You could only imagine the kind of things that they were saying. If you knew Seungkwan at all, you were certain that it couldn’t be any good.

“Jeonghan, I ask questions and you answer them. And while one could say that I’m getting to know you, I don’t think it would be possible to say the same thing about me”

Jeongahn's smile was defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You have a no-bullshit policy, which I should have known, from the start, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Although you try really hard to pretend that you’re not, your eyes are kind and you quietly take care of those around you, me included sometimes. You got worried when I was in pain in rehab and when Vernon got hurt it seemed as if you were angry, but you were concerned about him and after that, you asked to have another staff with you so that he wouldn’t need to carry so many things on his own. You and Seungkwan bicker a lot but when he isn’t around for a day you are quieter and your questions have been more direct. That doesn’t make you a lousy documentarist, please don’t think that I’m saying that, you take your job very seriously. I’m saying that you put people above your job. I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to become a documentarist, to begin with, to tell stories”

You stared at him, mouth open wondering just how he had come up with all of that and why he had managed to hit everything right on the stop. Especially the reason why you became a documentarist. It seemed very obvious, yes, but it wasn’t something that you had said.

In fact, your personal life was something that very few people knew. You weren’t one to share your thoughts and what was on your mind with people. Seungkwan was a good friend, but he was a work friend so your personal life was just that, personal. Not that you had someone to share it with, either way.

The apartment was empty when you left and it was in the exact same way and you got back. You were on your own, with no parents, no siblings and most of your friends had given up on you somewhere along the way.

For the longest time, you put your job first. It came before anything and anyone. You were building your career and name at the time so it was hard not to put it first. It was your dream, one that your friends supported at first but were displeased when you decided to put it first.

You had thought that if you made it big on your job if you got hired by a big production company, you’d be able to find the happiness that you had searched for a long time. And while some of it was true, your career was on the right path and you did something you loved, you didn’t have a lot more beyond that going one.

It was become just you and your job.

Was it sad? Yes, but it was also the life you chose.

“Just because I don’t know details of your life, doesn’t mean that I don’t watch you, yn”

You watched as Jeonghan fell for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It didn't make sense, not really. At least not for you. And from the looks of it, for him too.

He was frustrated and completely angry. All those people looking at him, expectations high, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. For him to fail? To see if he still could do it?

Everything was possible and impossible at the same time.

He couldn't stop his eyes from going after you every time you fell. Somehow, your reaction was the only one that mattered to him. The first few times your face was completely emotionless, as if you were staring at a blank wall. Then Jeonghan fell once again, and again, and again. He stopped counting at 10, but he knew it was much more than that actually. But your gaze, which was fixed on him, became more worried as the minutes passed and he hated being the cause of it.

Somehow, since he met you, only two things were on Jeonghan's mind: skating and you.

He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but you had taken over his every thought. It was as if you had walked through an imaginary door and entered his mind and decided that it was a great place to be.

Even on days when you didn't see each other because there was no recording, he was tempted to talk to you. And on one of those days, he just succumbed to the temptation of picking up the phone and calling you.

“Jeonghan, is everything okay?” was the first thing you said.

He hated that worry was the first emotion he awakened in you. He hated that the first thing you said wasn't "hello" like a normal person. But at the same time, the concern made him feel somehow welcomed. It could, of course, be all in his head, and what he saw as concern for himself was actually concern for the documentary.

"I just wanted to talk," he admitted.

Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to you, maybe it was because you offered zero judgment for the way he thought or reacted. Or maybe it was because it was you. Whatever it was, Jeonghan felt comfortable talking to you.

Telling the truth, about everything, was not difficult, in fact, it became something very easy. It was because of you, he knew.

"I realized I don't know anything about you"

You laughed and he listened as you moved through what he imagined to be his apartment.

"That's because I interview you and not the other way around"

He sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him as he supported the rest of his weight on his arms stretched behind him.

"Do you think it's so bad that I know anything about you?"

You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about the idea. It wasn't bad, not at all.

At several moments you found yourself with your cell phone in your hand, ready to send a message or call him. You weren’t sure what, but there was something about Jeonghan that just made you want to tell him everything.

"What do you want to know?" you said with a sigh.

"Whatever you want to share"

The great truth is that very little happened in your life. You lived alone, worked every day, and came home alone. Your last boyfriend, or even a fling, was over a year before. Your friends, if you could call them that, were all from work. Your life was quite still and dull. Even if you wanted to talk about work. Jeonghan was your job. There wasn't much to talk about.

"I don't think I have much to tell" you knew that what you were about to say wasn't the happiest topic in the world, but it was what you had to offer "My mother passed away when I was nineteen, since then I've been alone"

You could still clearly remember the day your father left. There wasn't a fight. He never packed his bag and left. One day he was there when you woke up, he gave you breakfast and took you to school, like he did on most days. But it was his job to pick you up and he never showed up. Your mother showed up instead, her eyes swollen as she did her smile to smile at you and explain to the teacher why she was so late. When you finally got home she said "Now it's just you and me. Daddy had to leave"

For months, years even, you waited for him to come back. You thought one day he would just appear in front of you. You were disappointed when it was your mother who showed up to pick you up when he didn't come to his birthdays when you called the number he had left with his mother and he never answered.

You waited until you turned 18 to go after him. You only had a name, but with that alone, a person can find everything on the internet. You found him in another state, working at a real estate agency. You sat down in front of him and talked for about half an hour. You made up a story about going to college and needing a place to live. You said your name and your mother's name several times, surname and everything, and at no point did he seem to connect one thing to the other. Until the last second, when you said you would think about renting the studio he had suggested, and he walked you to the door. He said, "I left for a reason, don't come back here."

You couldn't believe what you had heard. You couldn't understand why he left and why he never came back. But at that moment you decided that if he didn't want you, you didn't need him. Your mother had worked so hard to make sure you had everything you needed.

Exactly one year later, your mother died in a bizarre car accident. It was like being 7 years old again and losing another person, only in a much more painful way.

"You don’t have any siblings?" Jeonghan's voice on the other end brought you back "Relatives?"

You shook her head, even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"I was an only child, so no siblings. My mom was an orphan so relatives either. My father left when I was a child"

You and Jeonghan spent the whole night on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. From trivial things to more personal matters. His delight upon learning that you didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t go unnoticed. 

Calls and messages became commonplace between the two of you. Your heart raced every time a new message arrived and it was hard to hide your disappointment when you realized it wasn't from him. On days when you didn't see each other, you would stare at your phone, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.

So you hoped he understood when you shook your head in his direction, a request written on your face. That's enough for today, you can try more tomorrow, you hoped he would understand.

Instead of trying one more time after he fell once again, he skated to the edge of the ice. His face was red from the effort, and his chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm trying to force air back into his lungs.

"I want everyone out," he said, his voice broken.

Seungkwan and Vernon didn't even question it, they simply started putting away the equipment. Jihoon, who had shown up unexpectedly to "supervise" didn't seem to understand what was going on, but turned to help Vernon.

Jeonghan's coach was the only one who approached him, his hand on the athlete's shoulder.

"Go home, rest. Tomorrow we try again"

Jeonghan shook his head. He would only get out of there after managing to make the damn jump, even if he had to stay the whole night.

"Just half an hour more, but I want to be alone"

The coach clearly didn't like the idea, but he knew it was stupid to try and make Jeonghan change his mind.

You turned to him, looking at his face, trying to figure out if he was in pain or if he was just being a big blockhead. Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking about what you were doing, you placed your hand over Jeonghan's and squeezed for a second. You hoped he understood what you meant.

"You have to rest"

You knew everyone was watching, that despite saying they were leaving they weren't actually moving. Jeonghan didn't seem to care and for a moment you decided not to care either.

“Stay,” he said softly, so only you could hear him “please.”

Some strands of hair were stuck to Jeonghan's face, you wanted to get them out of his face, but caution spoke louder. You looked over your shoulder and everyone was still looking at the two of you, but as soon as they noticed your gaze they started moving again. Seungkwan shouted “We’re leaving” and seconds later the door slammed.

Finally, you were alone.

“You have to rest,” you said again.

You took advantage of the fact that no one else was there and removed the strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Jeonghan sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned towards you. Just that little touch wasn't enough.

“I need to get it right”

"If you stop now and rest you will know what you are doing wrong"

A half smile shined on Jeonghan's face as he leaned further into the barrier, his face just inches away from his.

"My ego loves it when you say I'm doing something wrong”

You pushed him back, needing a little bit more space to yourself. He was too close, you could feel his breath on your nose and cheeks. It was suddenly as if the world was made of Yoon Jeonghan, it was just him and no one else. 

“I’m sure your ego will be just fine”

Instead of pulling your hand back, you allowed it to stay in his chest. Jeonghan smiled for a second before pressing his hand over yours. 

“Just another 30 minutes” he repeated what he said to his coach “I promise I’ll stop in precisely 30 minutes”

You nodded with a sigh. There was nothing you could do to stop him. Something told you that even if you threatened him to leave he would stay and practice, he would stay on the ice for far more than just 30 minutes if you weren’t around. 

So you sat down and waited for him. And he fell time and time again, his face growing displeased with himself at each passing second, each time he jumped but didn't manage to land. 

Jeonghan had done that same jump countless times before with ease as if one's body would simply perform such movements. To him, it always seemed as easy as walking. You had seen it in all of his videos, almost in trance by him. 

“If you’re not done in twenty-one minutes” you pretended to look at your imaginary watch “I’m taking you out of there by force”

Jeonghan threw his head back, laughing. 

“Remember when you said that you never skated before?” Jeonghan asked after finally being able to breathe properly again.

You weren’t too sure how, but he had stopped after 30 minutes. A big smile on his face after he managed to land the jump after so many tries. After getting it right once, he didn’t get it wrong again. It was like something clicked inside his brain as if he had found the last missing piece of the puzzle.

Of all the things you said to Jeonghan, from the most personal to the most trivial, that was, by far, the only one you regretted. You had told him over the phone but he looked horrified, it was easy to imagine the wide eyes on his face.

But him standing there, in front of you, with a smile that could only be seen on the face of a mischievous child, said much more than any words he could utter.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, already moving back.

You had learned several peculiarities about Jeonghan in all the months you spent by his side, and one of the most glaring was the look in his eyes when he was about to do something he shouldn't.

“You have to try, at least once” his lips were a mixture of a smile and a pout “You will have the best teacher in the world”

You saw it and shook your head again.

“I can’t trust a teacher who spent the day falling” you pointed to the rink behind him.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't know if your words would offend him, you hoped he knew it wasn't your intention. But you also knew that hell was paved with good intentions. Jeonghan was silent for a minute, his face serious, his eyes not leaving yours for an entire minute.

Then he smiled, his nose wrinkling a little as he laughed, loudly. It didn't take long for you to join him.

“You’re evil,” he said, trying to control himself, but failing “This way you’re going to break my heart”

“I think there are few things in this world that can break your heart.”

You would definitely be one of them, Jeonghan wanted to say, but he held his tongue in his mouth. He knew he couldn't say that, he knew that any word said wrongly could simply ruin everything he had built so far. If he could even say he built something. He liked to think so.

From the first time you spoke, Jeonghan knew there was no going back, at least for him. He had never done anything like that. He had never called someone in the middle of the night simply because he wanted to hear someone's voice. And in this case, it wasn't just someone's voice, it was your voice that he wanted to hear.

With each passing sentence, Jeonghan found himself falling more in love with you and he wasn't able to say why. Maybe he could blame it on your eyes, always so focused, but somehow when they turned to him, they seemed so sweet and sincere. Or your voice, which gave orders and asked incisive questions, but as soon as the cameras were turned off it became gentle and almost shy. Maybe it was the fact that you seemed like a lioness when you were working, never giving space for unfounded questions, but you were shy when it was just the two of you alone.

He liked this version of you, who was right in front of him, who seemed completely comfortable with him, to the point of making jokes — something that until that moment you hadn't done yet.

“We always have extra pairs in the back, I'm sure one of them is your size” he had made sure you would, with Seungkwan's help of course “And then we try it, what do you think?”

Even though you were shaking your head, you went to the closet where you knew the skates were stored.

With your knees bent and shaking, you stepped onto the ice and immediately regretted giving in to Jeonghan's will. You didn't know how he had managed it, but in the closet, there was a brand new pair of skates, your size. Jeonghan had smiled as he bent down to tie your shoelaces,

“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” you said as you grabbed the bars.

Jeonghan held your face in his hands, your eyes fixed on his.

“I won’t let you fall”

The way the words left his lips made your heart skip a beat, or maybe several of them. You could feel it on the back of your throat and you could swear that your hands shook a little as you accepted the hand Jeonghan had extended to you. 

You wished it could just stop. Not for your heart to stop beating altogether but for it to stop reacting to Jeonghan. Everything changed after that first call and you weren’t too sure of where it was. He had, someway, somehow, become a pivotal point of you. His voice, his eyes. The way tingles started to run down through your body the moment his skin came in touch with yours. How, despite all odds, he made you feel safe in a way you weren’t too sure you had ever experienced before.

When he said that he wasn’t going to you fall, you believed him so you held his hands — strong enough that you were sure were hurting him but he didn't seem to mind — and allowed Jeonghan to pull you into the rink. 

“Don't move your feet” he said, voice ever so sweet but with a slight hint of teasing “I know it's probably hard, but let me take control here”

Forcing out all of the remaining air inside your lungs, you did as he asked. Instead of keeping your focus on the ice under your feet, you kept them in Jeonghan's face. A mistake, of course. 

His eyes were too intense if you could say that. You didn't want to understand what was happening. Perhaps for the first time since you met Jeonghan, you didn't want to understand what it could mean. You were scared. What, exactly, you weren’t sure.

“I didn’t even have to ask you to look at me,” he said and you laughed a little, automatically looking away “Keep looking at me”

The whole experience of skating for the first time, or being guided, was not being registered by your brain. All you could see, think, feel, was Jeonghan, as if he had become a central point of everything.

“I think we should stop here”

You hoped your voice was loud enough and judging by the look on Jeonghan's face, it was. The smile fell from his lips and it was as if a small light in his eyes had gone out.

You hated that you were the one causing that reaction in him, but you knew it was best to stop everything before it went too far.

"I thought that…"

“We can’t blur the lines that much” you shook your head.

You didn't know exactly who you were trying to convince, him or you. You also weren't sure you had to convince yourself of anything. It was as if your brain had split in two. One part, probably the loudest, wanted you to just let things happen. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, you weren't doing anything much really. What you did outside of your working hours and who you did it with was your problem and no one else's.

But the other part, one that spoke softly and that should have had much less strength, said it was dangerous, but also didn't offer much reason to be dangerous.

Yet somehow, that was the side you chose to listen to.

"Why?" He asked forcing his feet to the ground, making the two of you stand in the center of the rink. “What line are we blurring?”

You shook your head, hands clinging to his waist as you felt your feet begin to slide.

“I don’t know” you whispered in response “We are working”

Jeonghan leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. With a sigh, he let his forehead fall onto your shoulder and closed his eyes.

You didn't know exactly where your skepticism came from, but you were also sure it wasn't completely unfounded. But truth be told, you wanted to blur that line and any others that might appear along the way.

“Go on a date with me,” he said “If you still feel that way, there’s nothing we can do. Just don’t… don’t stop something that hasn’t even started yet”

taglist: @wonwooz1, @ryuwonieebae, @sobun1est, @mirtaspace, @feat-sun, @belladaises, @mhlsymlysn, @immabecreepin, @miriamxsworld, @aaniag, @k-drama-adict, @maiamorrrrrrrrrrrr, @yeeyoop0206, @tomodachiii, @sofix-hc7, @scarlet789, @moonlightgrleric, @r6njunlv, @mixling-blog, @cinnamongirl127, @haowonbins, @valgracia, @slut4donghyuck, @manutuankim, @shuabby1994, @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan, @plumings, @shuasdrafts, @aaasia111, @dreamsbloomout

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#k-labels #svt smut #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x you #jeonghan #seventeen fluff #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan #svt fluff #svt angst #jeonghan smut #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst

[kyeomyun]

2:01 AM

pairings: dad!jeonghan x gn!reader

genre: FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFF :((

warnings: none... you might lowkey go through baby fever :)

word count: 0.8k

synopsis: jeonghan would do literally anything to stop his baby from crying, even if it included being dolled up.

::note: WELL- yes ik now those jewels on jeonghan hair are indeed stickers and not hairclips but YK WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS. also hello strangers :). it's been a fat minute since I have actually written something down so if this seems a little dry... just know I haven't written anything since august 🧍🏾‍♀️but i do hope you enjoy this absolute brain rot I wrote last night at 2 in the morning 😍

network(s): @kflixnet

If there was one thing Jeonghan absolutely despised, with his whole entire being, it would be seeing someone who he holds, oh so dearly to his heart, cry.

He knows crying is a trigger for intense emotion, don't get him wrong, he knows very well it was common with toddlers. Including his. But that does not eliminate the huge tear he feels in his chest when the salty crystalline drops roll down his wife or his daughter's cheeks.

And he would do about everything (except cook the pot roast dinner that you LOVE that takes almost 5 hours to make and Jeonghan could not, for the life of him, stand on his two increasingly aging feet for more than 2), to make his loved ones stop crying. Even if that included doing something he thought he would not fit..

"Almost done, darling?" Jeonghan asked softly, careful not to make the tire of his voice get the best of his tone.

It was 2 AM, and his daughter, Yoon, had a rude awakening with cold sweat and vivid memories of a nightmare that she did not want have the guts to relive with her father. Which the father could understand, reliving a nightmare is not fun at all and he did not want to force that scenario onto his precious girl.

"Nu-uh," She clipped another hair clip onto Jeonghan long hair, humming in approval watching her masterpiece come to life in front of her eyes. "You said I can put a lot, daddy!" She pouted, hands flowing through the overload of bows: baby pinks, baby blues, even ones with sparkles and stars dazzled upon the long strands of freshly washed hair. Messy? Yes. Did Jeonghan care? Just a little tiny bit. "I have to make you really, really, really, pretty!"

"I did say that, did I?" Jeonghan said that more to himself, his words playing back on him tremendously. His eyes were drooping, fighting back the wondrous dreamland he was in before he was awoken by a frightened 4 year old. As much as his body wanted to shut down, his mind was stuck on one thing and one thing only.

Well maybe 2.

How long will it take to take these hairclips out and how is his miniature him doing?

"Mhm!" She clipped glittery pink hairclip on a randomly selected portion of her father's hair. "But at least daddy will look extra, extra pretty!"

Jeonghan butt was staring to numb, sitting on the carpeted floor of his daughter's room criss-crossed and Yoon standing up behind him with the next 2 hairclips awaiting their home on his head. But his heart filled rapidly, an intense feeling he has always had at moments like these. Ever since Yoon was born, this feeling was almost... unexplainable. Too immense to be just happiness and too extreme to be just love. It could be a mix of both but those 2 words are just not enough. No words could ever be.

Oh, he is down bad...

The smile that stretched upon his poorly chapped lips was one worth describing though; a smile that held so much value, love, adoration, did he think love?

"One more, daddy!" Yoon announced enthusiastically, a pretty baby blue butterfly, clipped on a strand near the front of Jeonghan head. A small giggle was heard as the little girl admired her work, grabbing ahold of the mirror and giving it to her pretty caregiver. "Is it pretty?"

Jeonghan took the mirror, its weight light but enough to slightly tilt his hand a bit. This motion was able to show the awaiting face of his daughter, who too stared into the mirror and tried to read her father's face. But he obviously had his answer.

But he still pretended to contemplate, his pointer finger tapping his chin in wonder. "It's not pretty,"

That cute pout adorned her lips again, her fragile heart clenching painfully. "You... don't like it? I thought–"

"It's beautiful, baby," Jeonghan looked behind him, and nothing, absolutely nothing, could match the cuteness of seeing his other half, his small angel, puffy cheeks bunch with joy. A smile that could kill many, Jeonghan being one of millions. Billions.

"Yay!" The excitement was barely contained in her small body, slightly bouncing in her place she stood in for almost 30 minutes before her stubby arms wrapped around the neck of her father. "Do you think uncles will be jealous?"

"Very," Jeonghan stared back in the mirror, his smiling bundle of joy warming his heart to the greatest. "Very, very jealous."

A kiss was planted on his cheek, and now he was conflicted about what his members will actually be jealous about.

His marvelous creation on his head, hairclips and bows that were placed in no particular pattern, or the creator, that shined her crooked teeth and eyes shining just as bright as she went back to slightly messing with the butterfly hairclip that hung just barely in his peripheral.

Ok, definitely the creator.

did you enjoy your order?

if you did, please reblog, like, (pls) comment, all of that jazz :>

have a good day, sweets ^^

tagging: @wheeboo @etherealyoungk @rubywonu @trblsvt @icyminghao @idubiluv @odxrilove @stormyjisung @slytherinshua @fairyhaos @gyu-effect @hannieheartuu @jaehunnyy @luvhyun3 @lvlystars @mesanthropi

#{🥧} — jada’s recipes ♡ #seventeen reactions #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #svt jeonghan #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan #seventeen

[seungcheorry]

jeonghan making you late to work because he keeps holding you back in his bed. he's caressing, kissing, hugging, grabbing you - honestly, he just doesn't want you to leave him. he doesn't want your side of the bed to go cold.

jeonghan then has his way with you. two sleepy, enamored bodies seeking release, lost in a mix of sweat, curses, and sweet words being whispered. he breathes against your lips when he cums, calling your name and melting on your palm as you caress his face.

#yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan headcanons #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan headcanons #jeonghan smut #seventeen headcanons #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt headcanons #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt x you #seventeen #svt #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #svt smut

[atinystraynstay]

Pretty Boy Rock - Yoon Jeonghan

Synopsis: Every girl in your office swooned over Yoon Jeonghan besides you. Yet, Jeonghan always liked a challenge.

Pairing: Colleague!Yoon Jeonghan x fem. reader

Genre: "I won't fall for you because everyone else does" girl meets the "I get whoever I want" boy

Inspired by @aaniag - thanks for tagging me in this post ♡ this is only the second one so we still have a long way to go!

First Encounters Mini Series: #1: #2: #3: #4: Wonwoo #5: Jeonghan #6: #7: #8: Dino

Word Count: 2k

Friday afternoon, 12:25pm

"Did you see what Jeonghan is wearing today?" "Girl, how could I not notice? My attention was all over his slacks." "The front or the back?"

Oh god. Give me a fucking break.

If there was one thing you hated, it was gossip around the office. Especially when it came in the form of girls basically drooling over one of your colleagues, Yoon Jeonghan. And of all places, they decided to take their little thirst fest into the break room.

"You know, there is something that I noticed," you said, popping into the conversation.

Immediately, heads snapped towards your direction. You were a bit taken back by the abrupt movement, fearing that their own heads would fall off. Either because they didn't realize you were in the room or they were interested in what you out of all people had to say. You were one of the few survivors of the trance Jeonghan seemed to place over your female colleagues. And if you had something to say regarding the matter, they surely were interested.

You couldn't help but smile slightly as you set down your silverware. The element of surprise had to be on your side here. You just had come in to enjoy your salad, but why not enjoy a show?

All the women leaned in, anticipating for what you might have to say. Your eyes glanced from side to side, as if you were scooping the scene to make sure there were no unwanted listeners. Getting the hint, the women leaned further in to hear the secret you were about to spill.

Time to go in the for the kill. In the loudest voice you could possible muster, you said the following:

"The way you talk about Jeonghan is quite disgusting. You hate when the men in the office talk about your skirts or how tight your blouses, but here you are drooling over Jeonghan in just a pair of pants? Pathetic. Close your mouths, ladies, or you might flood the office."

The small group gasped at you, eyes glaring at you but also glancing around to make sure nobody had looked in their direction. Their faces red in embarrassment as you smirked triumphantly.

Being the polite person you are, you bowed your head gently to pardon yourself. Gathering all the trash from your lunch, you threw it away and was about to make your exit.

"You're just upset that you're not Jeonghan's type," one of the woman muttered.

You couldn't help but laugh at their claim. You turned towards the group who seemed to be mustering all the courage they could to stand up to you. At the same time, you raised an eyebrow and had your hands on your hips. Do they really think their words will hurt you?

"Oh no! What will I ever do?" You said dramatically. "At least I don't live in some delusion where me and my friends are all after the same guy? I mean, he can only pick one of you. Or worse, he picks none of you."

Their eyes widened and mouths dropped at your words. Don't mess with the bull or you might get the horns. They seemed to be trying to come up with another comeback, but all you could do was walk away. Not worth wasting your breath on them.

You began to make your way back to your cubicle. You still had a few reports you needed to get done with before you could close out for the weekend. It wasn't that you hated your job. If anything, you kind of liked the routine it put you in. You even were beginning to be handed more responsibilities like leading presentations and joining brainstorming sessions for different marketing campaigns.

You definitely didn't have the time to be oogling over the looks of Yoon Jeonghan.

As you settled back at your dress, you let out a sigh. As invested as you were in the work you were doing, you couldn't help but feel as if time was dragging now that it was towards the later part of the day. Just 3 more hours.

"Well look who it is," a voice called out.

The hairs on the back of your neck rose a bit. You recognized that voice anywhere. Your attention was locked on the computer monitor in front of you, thinking that if you ignore the interruption it would just go away naturally. That was until you felt like something was looming over.

With a narrow gaze, you looked up to see the devil himself - Yoon Jeonghan. His arms rested against the top of your cubicle wall. You realy thought you had been silent enough to get back to work without alerting the beast. But by judging by the smirk curled on his lips, you knew he had been waiting for you. The black tie was loose around his neck with the sleeves of his white button up were rolled up to his forearms.

"Missed you, darling." "What can I do to help you, Mr. Yoon?" You did your best to keep a montone voice.

You didn't want to give any sort of impression you could be into what is happening.

"Mr. Yoon? What is with the formalies, y/n?" He gasped. "Well, I'm here to do my job and not entertain whatever this is," you explained.

"Is it actually that harmful for a man to be friendly?" "But what's the catch?" "Go out with me."

Your eyes widened and you nearly laughed. He frowned at your reaction but still stood his ground. There was no need to give any indicator that his ego had deflated a bit. He was not used to someone being so upfront with their rejection, normally accustomed to a shy "I don't know." But you were different. There was a reason he did this little waltz with you.

You and Jeonghan have been working together since you joined the company last year. He was technically someone in your department that could have been a mentor, but you were quickly swayed away by his flirtatious manner. Seeing that you were not dropping on your knees, begging for his attention, Jeonghan saw the challenge and knew he could beat it. There was a way to get into your heart, no matter how icy and impenetrable you wanted to come across.

He would crack the code, one way or another.

"I don't think it's a joke, doll. We're two attractive people. Come on. One meal couldn't hurt you." "Jeonghan, being in the same room as you is sometimes insufferable. How do I even know you don't want to go out with me because someone else was busy, hmm? I mean, weren't you just coupled up with the receptionist?" "Couldn't be fit into her Google Calendar."

You rolled your eyes at his response before dropping your gaze back down to your computer. You pretended to be typing away at one of the numerous documents you had pulled open, hoping it was enough for Jeonghan to get the hint.

However, he could tell you weren't budging quite yet. He also picked up on your little act as your screen was completely black. The brightness from the screen wasn't reflecting onto your face whatsoever. Still, he found you absolutely adorable.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. This is unprofessional of me, y/n. I'll leave you be."

Fucking finally.

Monday morning, 8:59am

Ding

Your heels clicked along the tile flooring of your office. It poured during your commute into work, which caused you to be stuck behind more traffic than usual. You didn't always mind, but it just put you in a foul mood. Especially since you had to sacrifice your Monday morning coffee run. It was ritual for you, and now the whole week felt like it was just off balance.

"Woah y/n. Your bad mood seems to have brought the bad weather," a voice called out to you.

Your gaze narrowed in the direction the voice came from. Your hair was slightly damped as you had to run into the front of the building from your parking spot because of course you didn't think it was going to run and didn't bring an umbrella with you.

Looking over, you noticed it was one of the girls from the break room on Friday. You rolled your eyes to refrain yourself from sticking up your middle finger. You just offered a polite smile before marching to your desk. As you moved, you heard her and her friends giggling at you. This is why you despised any sort of office relationship.

"Hey, y/n. You okay?" Jeonghan called out.

You were about to enter your cubicle when you saw Jeonghan overlooking your cubicle again. Your jacket rested on the back of your chair. it would be a miracle if it dried at all before the end of the day. You were also grateful you had a pair of flats you could change into in attempt to save your soaked shoes too. Plus, it as a good excuse to slip out of heels. You didn't mind wearing them but always valued comfort over appearance.

"Yeah," you murmured.

Usually, you would expect a snide comment from Jeonghan. Or a flirty attempt in righting the situation. But there was nothing. It cause you to freeze and look up to see what was going on. Jeonghan was only staring at you with almost a friendly smile on his face. Not a smirk but a smile.

You wanted to question it, but as you were calming down from your hectic morning, something else caught your attention. An iced coffee was sitting on your desk with a winky face on it. What the fuck?

You opened your mouth to question it but looked at Jeonghan instead. In response, he winked at you before slipping behind the wall that divided the two of you.

Standing there, you felt something unusual throughout your body. You felt warm and tingly, especially in your stomach. Your heart was doing somersaults. It was comparable to in cartoons when the heart leaps out of the character's chest. You stared at the coffee, specifically at the marker drawn winky face staring back at you.

Jeonghan did this? For me?

Your eyes couldn't help but wonder to see if this was a prank or if there was a hidden camera. Jeonghan still wasn't lurking in his usual spot. You also noticed that nobody else had an iced coffee on their desk awaiting for them. A blush overtook your cheeks, but you quickly sat down before anyone noticed.

Reaching forward, you moved the plastic container towards you to see it was from the local coffee shop you frequent. It was the place you went every Monday morning, the place you had to skip out on today or else you would be late. But what struck you was that he got your exact order.

Your blush intensified. You kept your head ducked as you took a sip out of the delicious drink. There was no denying the smile on your face wasn't just because of the coffee but because of Yoon Jeonghan.

And on the other side of the wall, Jeonghan was smirking to himself. He got his computer turned on before going to make himself a cup of coffee from the break room. He didn't often frequent coffee shops as they often didn't have decaf coffee. When he walked into the place around the corner from your office building, he asked the woman behind the corner if you had been in yet. Saying no and noting how odd it was, Jeonghan seized the opportuntiy. He asked for your usual order and requested a winky face drawn on it.

"Are you her boyfriend? She's mentioned there's a guy she's interested in at her place of work."

That's all the encouragement Jeonghan needed to go through with his plan. He shook his head but smiled at the barista. "No, not yet. I'm hoping this catches her attention."

And by the looks of your blushing face, he was close to winning you over. He always gets what he wants, and he certainly had his eyes locked on you.

#yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan x you #svt yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x you #svt #svt jeonghan #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #atinystraynstay #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop #fanfic #seventeen right here

[veethefreeelf]

How many chances are too many chances? Y.JH

This is part 2 to ‘How many times does it take to get smarter?’ Get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions and I’M SORRY ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ

Summary: 

It’s been 6 months since the night you and Jeonghan went your separate ways. You’re sure he has moved on and you… are working on moving on. Nothing can go wrong, right?

Wordcount: 14k (SORRY)

Warnings: pussy slapping, some spanking, slut is used a lot, oral f. receiving (face-sitting), vaginal penetration - unprotected sex, Jeonghan is hot and bossy - dom af, cream-pie, slight dumbification 

Requested: yes, by popular demand 

P.S - Italic is for thoughts mainly from the characters’ perspective and quotes. Bold is for text messages/calls/voice messages between characters

It’s been 6 months since you had seen each other. Since you told him everything you had been holding back for years and he walked away from you. He walked away from your friendship as if everything you two had shared over the years had been meaningless. As if you were replaceable.

You were doing okay. In the first few weeks you had cried yourself to sleep. You even destroyed all the pictures you had with him like a teenager in a movie. But eventually, it started getting easier. Waking up and not getting a single text from him or call during the day got easier. You started getting used to the silence.

You had also put the pictures you ripped apart back together. Very clumsily but you tried. You loved some of those pictures and they contained some of your very favorite memories with him and all the boys. You couldn’t get rid of it. You couldn’t also look at them so after you fixed them, you decided they would now live in a permanent corner in your closet in a box and hopefully, one day, you’ll be able to look at them again and smile.

In these 6 months, things have been going well with everything else in your life. You got a promotion. You and your family had been closer than ever and you had great friends who had helped you put everything behind you. Well… most of your friends.

Some of them, like the one calling you right now, wanted nothing more but for the both of you ‘to stop being fucking idiots and be together’. It’s been a struggle balancing seeing the boys and not seeing Jeonghan. You had mostly skipped all of your usual gatherings because you knew he would be there. You knew you would be the one losing the boys. They had been friends for far longer than you had been in their lives, so when a falling out like this happens, of course, you would be the one that would walk away.

This however, has made all the boys very annoyed. They have all called you at some point to tell you they were angry at you and wanted you back with them. ‘It isn’t fair’ they kept telling you.

You agree. Nothing about this is fair. It’s sad. For everyone. Everyone lost something, somehow and you blame yourself for it.

You should answer the phone though, otherwise, the boy known as your twin would cause absolute mayhem in all of your lives. He has already threatened you about it enough times for you to know he would do it without hesitation.

“Hello, Kwannie. Calling in the middle of the day is not very on brand for you. You good?” you asked.

“I’m amazing. I am calling you in the middle of the day because you have decided to ignore Soonyoung and he is now pouting and making my life hell. I have many questions. Number one: How dare you?” Seungkwan is the first one they use when they want something from you. Fair enough. Not even you want to deal with the anger of your friend.

“Kwannie… Now, now… That’s no way to speak to me even if you are using Office quotes which I very much appreciate” you said with a teasing tone.

“Haha very funny, Y/N. You have been hilarious in the past 6 months, you know that? Amazing. And as much as I would LOVE for you to continue being this way, I am the one that has to deal with the consequences of you ghosting all of us” he stated in an incredibly monotonous tone. You know what’s coming next and it’s mostly why you have avoided them all.

“Seungkwan, I haven’t ghosted any of you. I’m busy, you know that… That’s all…” you said in your best apologetic tone.

He laughed dryly and added: “You can’t be serious. I know you’re busy, promotion and all. But you also know after everything that happened, communication between us and you has been extremely difficult. You barely show up to any of our usual outings, you don’t speak in the group chat. Look… I get it, I do. But we shouldn’t all be punished because one of us is a complete idiot, and I know you know that too”.

You knew he was right, they didn’t deserve any of it. It wasn’t their fault. But how can you just show up to things with Jeonghan there? How can you join in the group chat with everyone while you know you have his number blocked and deleted everything related to him on your phone? 

You had done a pretty good job moving on in every other part of your life. But not here, not with the boys. You didn’t know how. You hadn’t found that balance yet and you weren’t sure you were ready to see him yet. Or at all.

“Your silence is deafening, Y/N” Seungkwan spoke on the other side of the line.

“I’m sorry… You know I am but… I’m not ready, Seungkwan. And to be honest, I’m not sure I ever will be” you said sadly.

“Hey… We’re your friends too, you know? Don’t push us away, please. Not anymore. That’s all we’re asking. Well… Soonyoung is also asking for you to come to his party this Saturday. The guys’ performance team was picked to go to the international competition and he wants you there to celebrate. We all do”.

Seungkwan always knew what to say to get you to cave. It was why everyone called you twins, you always knew what to say to get the other one to do whatever you wanted, no matter what. 

“They made it? That’s fucking amazing. Tell them--”

“Tell them yourself, Y/N. Saturday. Soonyoung’s place. 8:30. Not gonna lie to you. He’ll be there. But you don’t have to interact with him. It will be a big party and I won’t leave your side. Promise.” he interrupted you but you get it.

You’re not sure if you should go. This doesn’t sound like a good idea at all. But you miss them. All of them. Hanging out like before, playing beer pong, letting Seungkwan destroy everyone at Karaoke…

“And this has nothing to do with your personal interest in beating Shua and Vernon at beer pong, Boo Seungkwan?” you asked to lighten the mood a bit.

“Well… If your falling out with Jeonghan gives me the opportunity to pair up with you after all these years, finally, and destroy them… I call that an added bonus!” he said jokingly.

“Is there a theme? Hoshi always has a theme…” you asked.

“College. Yes, I know… Don’t ask. He said college and everyone went with it” he said with a distaste but you know he loves Hoshi more than he would like to admit. Even if he swore to keep calling him Soonyoung out of spite.

“And, if I go, which by the way, I am not saying that I will… You won’t leave my side? The whole night?” you asked and he reassured you right away.

“Of course. I promise. He won’t have a chance to talk to you, I’ll keep him away. I would also volunteer to take your phone but we both know you have him blocked so that’s not going to be necessary”. 

Weird. You haven’t told anyone you blocked Jeonghan. I mean, it’s an easy assumption to make but he seemed confident when he said it. You wondered how he knew.

After you promised you would think about it and heard Hoshi cheering in the background, you talked a bit more about your lives and what has been going on and you hung up after a while of catching up.

You spent the rest of your Sunday thinking about this. You know Seungkwan will keep his promise and you know this isn’t a trap but… you’re not ready to see him.

You don’t know if you’ll be strong enough not to speak to him. Sure, you haven’t spoken to him in the last 6 months but you have thought about unblocking him multiple times. Maybe going to this party is not the best idea.

Friday night comes at you fast. You were so busy the whole week that the week flew by and you are now panicking about tomorrow. You hadn’t thought about this party most of the week, you hadn’t had time and here you were. In front of your closet, trying to pick clothes that say ‘college’ apparently and wondering if you should even go at all.

You know if you called any one of them right now and told them you weren’t going, they would collectively be mad at you and even plot to get you there somehow.

It’s too late to back out. You’re going tomorrow. And… you’ll be fine. Seungkwan will be with you and you will hang out with the boys and you will ignore him. 

You started laughing out loud. Ignore him? Please, you want to think you are so important in his life but if you were, he wouldn’t have left you the way he did. He probably doesn’t care that you’re going. Why would he even want to speak with you? Leaving was his choice. 

After 30 minutes of hurting yourself and staring at your closet, you start getting several messages from all the boys. You knew it. They weren’t going to let you out of this one and they had decided to collectively torture you. Using Shua and Vernon’s emotional blackmail was a bit much but you knew they were throwing everything at you to make sure you were going.

You pulled out your regular college outfit and set it in your chair next to your bed, made yourself some warm tea and went to the couch to binge a show. ‘Hopefully the tea and the show will make me fall asleep’ you thought.

You were wrong. You barely slept. You kept moving around in bed, trying to fall asleep. Heart beating out of your chest. You don’t know how you’ll survive this.

You decided to keep busy the whole day. It had worked during the week so you went to visit your sister and see your nephew. He would keep you occupied. He had brought a light into your life you didn’t know could be there and you know he will always keep you entertained and you will do the same for him.

This had all gone well until your sister tells you they have a birthday party to attend at 4:30 so you’d have to leave pretty soon.

Great. Of course. 

As soon as you got home, you got a FaceTime call from Lily. 

Lily was your best friend since middle school. You had been through everything together and you were as close as sisters. You had introduced her to the boys shortly after you had met them and she fit right in. Not only that but she fell in love. She and Seungcheol have been together since they met. ‘Love at first sight’ they both said. You had always been jealous of that. It had always been so easy for them. Meeting, falling in love, growing together. You were also unbelievably happy for them, especially Lily. She deserved the world.

“Let me guess… Outfit check?” you asked after answering the call.

“Duh! Let me see what you chose! We could match tonight. It’s been such a long time since we wore matching outfits, Y/N! Since college actually, which is the theme. Do you see how perfect this is???” she asked excitedly.

“There’s a reason why we haven’t done that since college, Lil” you laughed. 

“Oh come on! It would be hilarious!” she tried to convince you.

“Seungcheol left you high and dry, huh? So now you come to me for a matching outfit? Your second choice, really? Hmm… Not very convincing, I must say” you started teasing her.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you are both boring…” she said pouting.

“Look, I already picked it out. You’re not gonna like it, so Seungcheol is probably your best option between the two of us” you laughed as you warned her.

You knew her taste, she had always been way braver than you when it came to outfits for parties and, only on special occasions, did you let her win and change your whole outfit. This is definitely not one of those times. She knew that too.

“Fine. Don’t need either of you. See you there. Will be mad” she said and hung up on you.

You knew the game, she’ll pretend to be angry but by the time the party starts and you’re there she has already forgotten and all the love comes back immediately.

It was still fairly early. 5PM. You had 3 and a half hours to kill. You were tired. You had barely slept. ‘A nap it is’ you thought.

It sounded like a great idea and it felt like a great idea until you woke up and realized you had forgotten to set your alarm. It was now 9PM and your phone was blowing up.

Everyone was pissed. Damage control. Call Hoshi. He seemed the angriest from all the texts and missed calls you had. You explained it to him and told him you will be there. He sounded skeptical but he finally let you off the phone to get ready.

You had gotten ready in record time and managed to get to the party before 10PM. 

As soon as you walked in, you felt at home. You missed this. So much. Too much.

You hear several screams and noise and you know you've been spotted.Seungkwan and Hoshi rush over to you being the loudest people in the room as usual.

“You boys sure know how to make a girl feel welcome” you tell them with a big smile.

“Took you long enough. The beer pong tournament will start soon. Start drinking, warm-up. Come on, Y/L/N. This is THE YEAR” Seungkwan tells you.

“Quiet, Seungkwan. This is the outfit you chose, really?” Hoshi looks you up and down.

“How dare you? I spent most of my college years in this sporty outfit. I look amazing, thank you very much” you stated and squinted your eyes at him.

“You also didn’t get laid often in college did you, Y/N?” he asked cockily.

“Well, not all of us can be the slut of the campus, Hoshi. You earned that title, very early on” you teased him.

“I missed you… Never disappear again, we will all chase you down” Hoshi said sincerely.

“Yeah. yeah. Emotional get together, we are all in tears, wow. Now, let’s go, Y/N. We need to destroy them. Warm up” Seungkwan interrupted your moment with Hoshi. 

Suddenly, you see out of the corner of your eye movement towards you three. 

 Shua, Vernon and Seokmin are all running towards you. Seokmin picks you up and spins you around very excitedly.

“Is this a rom-com in the nineties? Put her down, Seokmin, we all missed her and want a well deserved hug” Shua said.

You hugged the three boys. Vernon didn’t say a word, just gave you a knowing nod. Very typical. 

“Congratulations on the promotion, Y/N! We all heard about it and we are so happy for you. You worked so hard, you earned it” Seokmin said while holding your hand.

“Yeah, we wanted to take you out to celebrate but… it’s been hard reaching you most of the time” Vernon said looking in your eyes. There it is. The guilt trip. You deserved this and they knew who to choose to make you feel that way.

“I know, Hansol. I’m sorry. I’ll be better from now on. Promise” you said sincerely. 

While you were all silent, sharing this moment, a scream, more like a screech, echoed through the party and you all looked in it’s direction.

Lily. Yup. Very obvious. She is walking as fast as she can in her heels towards you with a huge smile on her face and with Seungcheol right behind her.

And there he was. Right behind Seungcheol. Walking in your direction. 

And he wasn’t alone. Of course. Next to him was this cute, small girl with big eyes. She looked so innocent and small. Just his type.

All of your worries disappear. He’s not going to talk to you. He never cared. You truly had been such a fool for so long. You wonder how you never saw through it. It doesn’t matter. You decide to focus on the people in front of you that truly love you and are so happy to see you.

“You were right about the outfit. I hate it” Lily says after hugging you and dropping her smile.

You rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s the reason I didn’t get laid in college. You’re too late for that joke, Lil. But thanks, for the clear and unconditional support on your side, as usual” you said annoyed.

“Come on… It’s not the only reason… Your resting bitch face and bombastic side eye were the main reasons you didn’t get laid in college” she said and everyone laughed.

“Okay, it’s been nice seeing you all. Leaving now. See you all in a year” you started to turn away.

“No way you’re leaving. It’s been months, you owe us this. Better bring your A-game tonight, Y/N. Some of us aren’t in a merciful mood” Seungcheol pulled you back into the group.

“That’s all you got for me, Seungcheol? You’re getting soft” you said, challenging him.

“It’s your fault. Left me all alone with all of them. You brought this on yourself” he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Hi, Y/N. Congratulations on the promotion” Jeonghan spoke, almost whispering. He sounded nervous. 

Everyone whipped their heads around to look at Jeonghan and then you. They kept looking between the two of you. Some of them expected you to blow up and some of them expected you to be polite and cordial. You surprised all of them.

You looked away from Jeonghan without speaking a word. You turned to Seungkwan and locked your arm with his.

“So? Lead me to our victory, partner. Or should I replace you before we even start?” you asked him.

“Absolutely not, you’re mine. We’re gonna destroy all of you. Prepare yourselves” he stared at Vernon, Shua and Seungcheol specifically.

Then he led you towards the alcohol. You were extremely thankful for him.

Seungkwan might have met Jeonghan before he met you but there was a reason everyone said you must have been twins in another life. He suffered the way you did, his reactions were similar. Your side eyes? Unmatched. The only thing you were mainly different was in pettiness. He had the ability to be much more petty and cruel if needed than you. Until tonight. 

Seungkwan was proud of you. Maybe it didn’t look polite but Jeonghan had ripped your heart out, put it through a blender and served it back to you on a silver platter. You owed him nothing. He made his choice when he left you and he is reaping the consequences.

Hoshi and Seungcheol stood on top of the living room table and warned everyone:

“Beer pong tournament starts in 30 minutes. Sign up with your partners now!”

“Keep drinking, warm up, I’ll sign us up. We got this!” Seungkwan tells you immediately.

He was way too excited for this but you understand him and everyone else. It had been far too long since you had all been together, relaxing like this, having fun. And it had been even longer since the beer pong partners had changed.

Usually, you and Jeonghan were always a team. The cheater and the angel who convinces everyone their moves are within regulation due to some unchecked loophole. Shua and Vernon, the americans. Always a team. Always made it to the finals against you and Jeonghan. Seungcheol and Hoshi were always a team. An unlikely one but one that always worked. Seungkwan always forced Woozi to be his partner even though Woozi just wanted to be left alone. Everyone else was pretty okay partnering up with whomever was available and they didn’t put too much effort into fighting everyone for a partner. Mingyu and Wonwoo, Seokmin and Dino, and lastly, Jun and Minghao. They were the good ones. The ones that played for fun only. At least in this game.

This time around, Woozi finally thought he would get some peace but Jeonghan was forced to pick him since obviously you would not be pairing up with him. 

You joined everyone around the table and started a conversation with Lily who always got bored watching you guys compete. Well, until Seungcheol started to lose, then she got mad at everyone. It was adorable. 

You could overhear Jeonghan trying to convince Woozi to join him and at that moment a voice you did not know breaks you out of focus.

“Hi! I’m Haneul! Jeonghan invited me here tonight. The guys are pretty close, huh? Wanted to see if I could join you girls while they play and maybe find out a few secrets about Jeonghan” she giggled.

Lily looked at you and then back at Haneul. 

“Hi, Haneul. I’m Lily. This is Y/N. We met the boys in college. Or, Y/N met some of them in college and then we all got put together into this insane group. How do you know Jeonghan?” She asked her. 

She really knew you inside and out. She knew you weren’t going to speak a word to this girl and at the same time, you wanted to know everything about her. You hated it. You hated him. He made you this way. This poor girl had done nothing to you, yet here you were hating everything about her for absolutely no rational reason.

“Oh, from work. I just started at the company and I got assigned to Jeonghan’s team. He’s such a great guy--”

You walked away. Nope. Not tonight. You worked hard to get over him. You knew this would be a reality one day. Sure, you thought it would happen much later but you have to face it now. He’s here with someone he thinks is worthy of him and that he clearly wants to have a serious relationship with. He never brings anyone around the boys unless he means it. And she was so perfect for him. Your complete opposite.

You want to vomit. You hate this. You hate it here. How are you supposed to play a game and have fun when this is happening? It was way too soon. You shouldn’t be here, you knew. You knew this was a mistake. You started thinking of ways out. Trying to find a way to sneak out, turn off your phone and hope in the morning, the boys feel forgiving.

“Stop trying to figure out a way to sneak out” Seungcheol spoke beside you. 

“How did you know?” you asked him, sounding sad.

“Because if I were you, I’d be thinking about the exact same thing” he answered and put his arm around you to comfort you.

“I missed you, Cheolie” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

He kissed the top of your head and asked “Is that why we barely spoke these last few months?”

“Not you too, Cheolie…” you said as you moved away from him.

“Come on, you know we have to. You disappeared. You both said your… ‘situation’ wasn’t going to change anything but it changed everything. You both deserve the shit you’re being handed by all of us” he said as he sipped his beer.

“So you’re giving him shit, too?” you asked, also sipping your drink.

“Oh he’s got it so much worse than you, Y/N. You have no idea the kind of pain we unleash on him on a daily basis” he said and smiled at you.

You knew he meant it too.

“Good. He’s earned it” you said and you both laughed.

“LET US BEGIN!” Hoshi yelled at the top of his lungs.

He jump scared everyone in the room and Seungkwan was ready for murder. Poor Mingyu had to hold him back from Hoshi as Hoshi ran off laughing as loudly as possible.

‘Some things never change’ you thought to yourself.

The tournament started and everything was going well. You were distracted and having fun, finally. And Seungkwan never left your side. Well… that’s not entirely true, but every time he did, he made sure one of the boys was there to prevent you from running away. 

You and Seungkwan had made it to the Semi-finals. A place Seungkwan had never been in all of these tournaments. He always blamed the cheaters but now here you were. And you were going to face Jeonghan and Woozi in the semi-finals.

Of course. You looked up and sighed. The universe really enjoys watching you suffer. It’s like it knows how much you love competitive Jeonghan and has decided to torture you even more. Because it’s not enough he looks that good and it wasn’t enough when he walked towards you with a little girlfriend behind him, no. That wasn’t enough. You needed to suffer more.

Seungkwan grabs you by the shoulders and makes you stare at him.

“A little creepy, don’t ya think?” you asked him and laughed.

“Stop laughing. Look at him. I want you to put your pain to use” he said, and almost growled at you.

“Excuse me?” you asked, but you knew what he was going to say next.

“He brought a girl here. Look at her. Very cute. Just his type, isn’t she? And, he barely tried speaking to you. Get angry, let’s destroy him” he told you while staring at you.

“Seriously, Seungkwan? That’s low” you said.

“You know what’s low? Knowing you were coming and bringing her. Use it. I need this win, Y/N and so do you” he said as he let go of your shoulders and started focusing on your adversaries.

You get what Seungkwan is doing and you know if you were Sengkwan you would be able to channel all of that energy and anger towards winning, but you’re not Seungkwan. This is where your personalities diverge completely. Right now, all of those thoughts, everything that has happened tonight… You are trying your hardest to just not cry. Do. Not. Cry. 

Long story short. You lost. Bad. You sucked. Bad. And you wanted out. Bad.

As soon as the final shot sinks and the match ends, you get out of that living room and you go hide. 

You need to breathe, you can’t breathe there. You’re suffocating.

You don’t know how long you stay in the guest bathroom. You’re on the floor, tears running down your face and your breathing has finally started to stabilize. ‘You’re fine. You’re okay. You’ll be fine’ you kept telling yourself over and over.

You get up, clean your face, take one last look in the mirror and try to make yourself look presentable. You needed to leave this party. This was too much, too soon. The boys would have to understand.

You leave the bathroom and as you’re about to leave the guest bedroom, he spoke up behind the bathroom door.

“Not even a hello, love?”

Your heart started beating so loudly, you started shaking. How dare he? How dare he do this to you? You looked back at him over your shoulder and said:

“Don’t make the wrong choices and expect no consequences, Jeonghan. You shouldn’t keep Haneul waiting.”

And you left.

You left. This time, you had the power. You closed the door behind you and you started getting ready to leave. Some of the boys ran over to you.

“I had fun, I did. But I have to go, okay? I’m sorry Soonyoung. And congrats to you boys, you deserve this. You worked too hard so kill it, okay?” you said with a weak smile on your face looking between Hoshi, Jun, Minghao and baby Dino.

They all gave you a huge group hug and let you leave.

You got home and you cried yourself to sleep, again.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry for him anymore, no matter what. But here you are. In bed, crying.

You wonder if you even understand Jeonghan at all. If you ever did. He left, didn’t try to contact you but tried to speak to you when you first walked in the party. Brought a new girl to the party he knew you would finally be at and pretended to sulk when you didn't answer his greeting.

You have no idea what he wants. You never did. But it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. 

In a way, now you can heal. You saw him with someone else, the worst possible scenario in your head and you survived. Barely. But you did. You’ll learn to navigate these feelings and you’ll get better at forgetting him.

Tonight was difficult but tomorrow will be better.

It had been two weeks since the party. You had been busy and hadn’t had time to think much more about it. And, you also didn’t want to think about it or talk about it at all.

So, you may have been ignoring the texts the boys sent and even Lily. You just didn’t have the energy at this point. You were still drained and trying to find your bearings.

You knew this wouldn’t last much longer. They were very persistent when they had to be and when they wanted to be. 

Today you decided to have lunch delivered and eat in your office. It was one of the days you needed to be in the office and you were already drained. You didn’t expect any visitors, especially at lunch time but there’s a knock at your door.

“Who is it?” you asked from your desk, pausing your Youtube video.

Lily doesn’t even reply and just opens your office door and comes right in.

“Well, hello there. Why did you knock if you’re just gonna make yourself at home either way?” you asked her playfully.

“I’m mad at you. This is the silent treatment, in case you’ve forgotten what that feels like” she said as she crossed her arms.

“Not much of a silent treatment if you stalk me all the way here AND speak to me or is it?” you asked again.

“You’re unbelievable you know that, Y/N? We barely speak or see you for 6 months, you show up to one party, leave abruptly in the middle of it and start to ignore us again and you still think this is a joke? Keep pushing us away like this and one day none of us are going to push back anymore” she said and your smile fell from your face.

“I’m sorry, Lil. Jeonghan caught me alone at the party and… I had to leave after that. I couldn’t be there anymore. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t ready to see him yet and definitely not ready to see him with someone else so quickly after our falling out” you said honestly.

Lily sighed and smiled sadly at you. 

“Let’s talk about it? You haven’t talked to anyone about it since the falling out. I really think it’s time you share your burden with someone. You can’t keep carrying this alone. It’s going to keep suffocating you. Let it out with me, yeah? Tomorrow? I can come over, we can spend the day together, talking and binge eating and drinking. Like the old days. Let me be your friend, Y/N”

“Deal” was all you said but it was enough to make Lily smile more brightly. 

She hugged you and said her goodbyes and your day continued.

Maybe she was right. You had not talked about it with anyone. Maybe you’ve healed as much as you can on your own. You need support. You need your friends.

The next day you woke up and you were excited. You hadn’t spent a full day with Lily like this in a very long time. You missed this so much. 

You went out for a quick grocery run to get all her favorite snacks and drinks and some other additions you needed for your home and you decided since you weren’t going to bring too much back that you would walk to the store. You could use the fresh air.

As you were walking there, you kept thinking about what Seungkwan had said before. He knew you had blocked Jeonghan but how? You hadn’t told anyone and sure, it could be an obvious assumption, but he knew. With certainty. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of Jeonghan having tried to contact you after that night and finding out he was blocked. How did that make him feel? Why did he tell Seungkwan? And did he try to contact you more times after that? How many more times?

‘Why do I care? Why am I torturing myself?’ you asked yourself. But you know why. Deep down (maybe not that deep down) you wanted him to try to contact you. You wanted him to feel like shit when he realized you blocked him, and you wanted him to keep trying to contact you.

You just wanted him.

How pathetic is that? He keeps hurting you and you keep wanting him. Always.

After you got home and prepared everything for Lily’s visit, you sat on your kitchen counter staring at your phone next to you.

‘Don’t do it. Don’t do it. I shouldn’t do it. This is a fucking bad idea. Stop being weak. Don’t do it’ you kept telling yourself over and over again. As you were about to do something very stupid, your doorbell rings and you thank all the heavens and Gods above.

You opened the door and a very excited and happy Lily barged in.

“Did you miss me? How long has it been since we did this? Feels like forever…” she said as she started taking out her blankets and pillows and setting up your living room for a proper girls day.

“I want to unblock Jeonghan. Is that stupid?” you asked abruptly and so quickly that Lily thought she misheard you.

Lily slowly turned around and looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Why?” she asked.

“I just… Seungkwan mentioned before that he knew I had blocked Jeonghan and I thought that was weird because I didn’t tell anyone anything and it got me thinking that yeah, I know, he could’ve made that comment based on an assumption but you know Seungkwan, he doesn’t say or do things he is not certain of and that made me wonder if Jeonghan had tried to contact me after that night and if he did, what did he want to say and how did he feel after being blocked by me” you said all in one breath and so fast that Lily almost laughed at you.

“Easy there, we have all day, no need to say things in one breath like that. Don’t want you passing out on me” she said, now laughing out loud.

“Sorry… So… Is it stupid?” you asked her again.

“Of course not. What you two shared… I know we never talked about it but I actually saw myself and Seungcheol a lot in you two but you know, in a completely dysfunctional and delusional way of pretending you didn’t love each other” she said as she laughed lowly and you sat down on your couch.

“Look… I don’t know what he wanted to say but I can confirm he has tried to contact you after that night. Several times actually. Seungcheol told me. I’m assuming he told Seungcheol, Seungkwan and probably Vernon and Shua. He knows they would be his best bet at convincing you to unblock him but none of them wanted to help, I guess. At least Seungcheol didn’t.” she said and you looked down.

“I know he fucked up. But… and don’t hate me for saying this… You did too. And I think you know that. Sure, he fucked up in a much more serious and permanent way but you two just kept hurting each other for years. It’s always been so complicated when it should’ve been easy.” she continued.

“I also know the Y/N I know is a very forgiving person and has always given people second chances. Not saying you should forgive him just like that. But maybe you can hear him out. He clearly wants to talk to you about it and you clearly miss him and want to know what he has to say. Just because you give him a chance to explain, does not mean you will forgive him and want him back in your life.” 

She finished her speech and you looked at her with tears in your eyes.

“How long have you been holding that in?” you asked and laughed.

“6 whole months actually. Seungcheol kept stopping me from saying anything and he kept saying you were too angry. Not ready to hear it just yet” she said and was crying with you now. 

You both looked insane. Crying and laughing at the same time, holding each others’ hands but this was exactly what you needed.

“I hate it when he’s right” you said and laughed.

“Oh, same. And he is always right. The boys were all on your side, you know? Always giving Jeonghan shit.” she added.

“I bet… Seungcheol told me that at the party too” you told her.

“So… Unblock him. Don’t tell anyone. I won’t either. And we’ll see if he tries to contact you again or not” she told you and moved to turn on the TV.

“To be fair, it’s been 6 months. Not sure he would keep trying for that long” you told her as you started to open some of the snacks and drinks.

“Don’t say that. I know for a fact he kept trying and hoping you had unblocked him so he’ll definitely try again” she said as she started helping you with the snacks.

You nodded and… Unblocked him. You did it. It felt weird. You wanted him to reach out but you were also scared of what he would say if he did. And, if you were being honest, you were still so angry at him for leaving you. So you’ll know that if you decide to hear him out, that first conversation is not going to be pretty no matter what he has to tell you.

The rest of the day went by fast. You talked and vented to Lily about everything. Just like you did with Jeonghan on that day. You had told her everything, you had cried together and laughed and after all of it, you just watched a few episodes of a show and before you knew it she had to leave.

You said your goodbyes and promised each other you would do this way more often.

You felt happy when she left. Lighter. You cleaned most things up and decided to go to bed early. You were feeling tired. You were feeling as if today you were finally going to get some real sleep. Lily was right. You needed this. You needed to vent and share your burden and now that you had, you felt relieved.

You wanted to take full advantage of this opportunity. You turned all your notifications off, did your nighttime beauty routine and went to sleep. You fell asleep so fast and you slept like a baby. At last.

Sunday morning you woke up so well rested and a bit confused from sleeping so much. You honestly don’t remember the last time you woke up after 11AM and it felt great. You stretched, yawned, opened your blinds and smiled. 

Wow, you really did feel so much better after being and talking with Lily. It helped with some of the pain and she was right. You didn’t know if you would give Jeonghan a chance to explain himself yet but if you did, that did not mean that you were going to forgive him and that your lives would again intertwine. 

After showering and cooking breakfast, you went to your dinner table facing your window to eat and you remembered you had turned off your notifications for the night so you went back to your room to pick up your phone and turn them back on.

You started eating and checking your notifications when you receive a notification you didn’t think you’d receive this soon.

It was a text from Jeonghan. Apparently sent late last night.

“I know I haven’t texted you since before the party. I didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry isn’t enough. I wanted to give you time but these weeks have been shitty. I’m miserable. I wish you could read my messages and see how much I’ve been suffering without you. I keep texting you pretending that you read them. How pathetic am I? Doesn’t matter. I’ll keep being pathetic until the day you give me a chance to explain everything. I miss you terribly, love”

You kept reading it over and over again. You didn’t know what to do. This is not something you can do over text. This also is starting to seem like a very bad idea at this moment. You know he probably saw the message was delivered, unlike his previous ones. 

Jeonghan is very much feeling like you. Confused. Not quite sure what to do. Send another text? No. Not over text. Call you? Maybe it’s too soon, maybe he should wait to see if you reply at all and then try to call you. A voice message? Hmm, not ideal but it would give him a better platform to at least try to convince you to meet with him and let him explain everything. 

A voice message it is. But it can’t be any voice message, he decided. He needed to write down everything he needed to say in this message. He needed to be clear and straight to the point. Just like you always have been.

After hours of writing points down and recording himself and hearing it back, he decided to just go for it. No matter what, it won’t be perfect. But it’s all he’s got. He has this chance and he can’t afford to waste it. He can’t afford you blocking him again and not being able to get his second chance.

You spent hours trying to avoid staring at your phone. You cleaned your whole apartment and decided to play some games to distract yourself. ‘You don’t have to respond. If he means it, he’ll reach out again. Be patient, Y/N’ you told yourself.

And sure enough, your phone dings a text notification. You’re so nervous. It’s just a text and you’re so nervous. You look down at your phone. It’s a voice message. No. You can’t hear his voice. Why does he know you so well? 

You wanted to wait to open it. You really did. But you couldn’t. You reached down and listened to it.

“Hi, love… I… I don’t really know how to start. I can’t believe you unblocked me. And, don’t worry. I know this doesn’t mean that you’ll hear me out or forgive me but you know I have to try, right? Maybe you don’t. I know you’ve been feeling like you never mattered to me. Like you were never worthy of me. And it’s all my fault. In all these years, I’ve been so blind and I’ve hurt you so much. I wanted to beg you for a second chance but… This isn’t my second chance. It’s not even my third. I’ve hurt you more times than I can keep count and you have given me multiple chances to redeem myself and I always disappointed you. I kept asking myself, if I were you, would I forgive me? Would I give me another chance? How many chances are too many chances? How many times will you forgive me before I learn? Truth is, if I were you, I would be done. Completely. I’m sending you this on the very slim hope that you are better than me and that you will at least let me explain everything. Even if after you hear it, you won’t forgive me. Please… Let me explain myself. Meet with me, one last time, love.”

He was crying for most of his message. You could hear it and it was tearing you apart.

Part of you wanted to meet with him but the other part of you was still so mad. Could he just beg and cry and get away with everything? You deserve better than all of this, you know that now. You’re not sure what to do. You needed to weigh your options. 

You sent him a simple text: “I don’t know. I’ll think about it. Please, don’t message me anymore. I’ll reach back out when I have an answer.”

He liked your message and added nothing else. Jeonghan knows you well and he knows to respect your boundaries, always.

You spent the next few days thinking it over. You kept remembering Lily’s words. Listening to him does not mean you will forgive him and it might even help you with closing this chapter in your life, if that’s the final choice you’ll make.

But somehow, every time you tried to message him and tell them that yes, you will hear him out, you couldn't pull that trigger. You were scared. You couldn’t pinpoint what was holding you back.

You decided to call Lily. She would help you, she would know what to say to help you through this.

She picked up after a few rings.

“Hey! How have you been? How’s the… situation we talked about Saturday?” she asked and you could hear some background noise and echo.

“Am I on speakerphone, Lil?” you asked back.

“Yes, I’m cooking dinner and Seungcheol answered it for me. Is this not a speakerphone conversation?” she asked you and you replied right away.

“Actually, if Cheolie is there and wants to give his input, I would appreciate it. I’m… confused? I don’t even know the right word to describe what I’m feeling right now…” you replied and you immediately got an answer from the other side of the phone.

“I’m here. Tell us” he said, straight to the point. You too had always had that in common. Cut through the bullshit and get to the point.

“Well, Saturday after me and Lily spoke, I decided to unblock Jeonghan. I just… Wanted to know if he tried to reach out and if he would again and he did. That same night actually. Long story short he sent me a text and a voice message begging me to meet up with him and let him at least explain. He said a lot of things… I don’t know how to feel about them? I told him I would think about it and I thought about it. A lot. I want to hear him out but every time I go to message him the fear and hurt resurfaces again and I just… Can’t… I mean… Does this mean I shouldn’t listen to him? I need help…” you said and waited for a response.

“You should hear him out” Seungcheol said simply.

You didn’t know what to say so he continued.

“What’s the worst that can happen? You fight? Good. You need to fight. You both need to tell each other everything you’ve been holding inside since you met. You need to scream at each other and understand how annoyingly frustrating you both are. And if after that fight you decide it’s not worth it, you’ve given him too many chances, then you’ll know and you’ll be able to finally get closure and truly move on. Let’s face it, Y/N. You won’t fully move on until you get your answers. All of them.”

“I really do hate it when you’re right…” you said and the three of you chucked.

“But I’m always right, Y/N. Meet up with him and come running here if you need to” he told you.

After you hung up with them, you decided you needed to rest. You had a migraine. Tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow you’ll let him know.

The next morning you decided to call Jeonghan before starting work. You knew his schedule and you knew he would be up. You couldn’t do this through text and you won’t.

He picked up immediately.

“Hello, love. Good morning. Did you sleep well?” he sounded the same. Asked the same questions he used to before. It felt familiar and nice.

“Hi, Jeonghan. Good morning. Yes, I did, thank you. I hope you did too. Look, I’ve decided to hear you out. I don’t want to talk through the phone or in a public place. I have a feeling this conversation will be… difficult to say the least for the both of us. Can I come over after work this week or is the weekend better for you?” you asked him.

“Tonight. Come over tonight, please.” he said without any hesitation.

“Okay… Tonight it is. I’m working from home so I should be done at 6PM. I’ll be there by 7” you stated plainly.

“Okay, love. I’ll be waiting” he said and he sounded as if he were smiling. It made you want to smile as well but you didn’t.

“See you then, Jeonghan” you said and hung up.

You weren’t ready to see and speak to him but were you ever going to be?

Tonight, everything will be out in the open. Finally. You will both put all our cards on the table. No more secrets. No more hiding. And then, you can both decide how to move forward. Together or separate.

6PM comes quicker than you anticipated and it’s time to get ready and meet with him.

You got to his apartment and the nerves started kicking in. ‘You got this’ you told yourself right before you rang the doorbell. 

He must have been right by the door because the door flew open almost right after you rang the doorbell.

“Hi, love. Come in, please” he said and gave you room to walk towards the living room. He sounded nervous. He looked nervous too. It made you feel good to know you weren’t alone in this. 

You walked in the living room. It was clear he prepared for your arrival. The room smelled like the candle you loved and kept buying for him so he would always have it when you came over. The lights were dimmed and he had put music on in the background. He had water and snacks on the coffee table and your pictures together were still up and visible to anyone who walked in his house.

Fuck, you missed him so much. You want to stay strong but you are already feeling so weak.

You sat on the couch, turned your phone off and looked up at him with raised eyebrows, silently asking him ‘What are you waiting for?’.

He sat on the couch with you, turned his phone off and started speaking.

“I love you. And no, I don’t mean in a ‘best friends’ type of way. I’m in love with you. And yes, I am fully aware those are the exact same words you said to me 6 months ago. And you should know I’ve wanted to say these words back to you ever since that night. I’ve always loved you. Since the very beginning. I have been trying to figure out why I didn’t see it or why I kept telling myself that I didn’t love you like that but honestly, I don’t know why I did it. I know I’ve always been afraid to lose you. To have you look at me with disappointment in your eyes. But before that night, I told myself we were just friends and were always going to be just friends. I had convinced myself of that fact and I don’t understand why.” he said with tears in his eyes now. 

“Fuck, I know what a cliché it is to only realize what I have in front of me once I lose it, trust me. But the night I left, I remember thinking how happy I had always been with you, around you, in your presence. How lost I was before you walked into my life and it all made so much fucking sense. You and I made sense.” he continued. 

You were staring in his eyes and it was your turn now to turn your poker face on.

“Only after I met you did I set up all these rules about my dating life. No one was ever worthy of dating me simply because they weren’t you. I kept making these excuses… To myself, to everyone around me. But I was just too stupid to see that I was making these rules in hopes of finding someone like you. Because I’ve always known since I met you, Y/N, that I’m the one that is and never was worthy of being with you. But if there’s anything I have learned in all the years we’ve known each other is that there’s absolutely no one like you, not for me” he continued.

“I wanted you for so long that when I saw the chance of having you, I took it. No hesitation. I don’t regret that first night and never will. What I will regret is never having kissed you that night and the conversation that took place after it all happened. What I said, the way I acted. Like you were just another ‘fuck-buddy’. I will never forgive myself for that and I don’t expect you to either” he said as tears kept flowing down his face. 

He never wavered and kept looking at you while he finished up his speech.

“I know I don’t deserve another chance. I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I still had to ask. I had to try. I love you and I am begging you to give me another chance. At everything. Being your best-friend, your lover, your partner. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me” and he was done. 

The only sounds in the room were the sounds of you both crying. Why did he only decide to tell you all of this now? Why was life so unfair? You don’t know if this is enough. His words are beautiful but they always have been. You needed more. Much more. 

And your anger starts winning over your forgiving side. You still have a lot to tell him before you even make a decision about this. He needs to hear how much he has hurt you. 

“Am I just supposed to be moved by this and forget all these years? Forget all the words you’ve said to me, all the little comments and jokes you made about me not being your type and not even being close to what you wanted?” you asked him.

“You know me well, Yoon Jeonghan, which means you know my memory never fails me. I remember every single cruel thing you said and smirked about. I remember the restaurant you never took me to no matter how many times I begged you to because ‘That is way too romantic for us, love’. And you want me to believe that after you’ve said all of these things you went home and felt bad about it?” you were getting angrier and angrier.

“You don’t love me. And you didn’t love me back then either. You love the way I make you feel. You love how desperate and pathetic I am and always have been for you. You love that I worship the ground you walk on. You love the feeling of having someone willing to do anything for you, willing to sacrifice their own beliefs and self-esteem to get even a small portion of your attention. You love having someone beg you to take them out, begging you to see them. You love all of these things and anytime someone gave that to you, you stayed” you were getting harsher now. 

“That’s how you found your ‘fuck-buddies’. You always chose the most desperate ones because you always loved the way it made you feel about yourself. That’s why you kept me around. You kept all of us around for different feelings. We were all desperate for you, yes. But their job was to keep you satisfied sexually, while mine was purely emotional. It wasn’t love. Not for them and not for me.”

You said and started getting up from the couch and collecting your things.

“I was never different from them. Not in the core of the matter. In the end, we all got hurt and you always left, unburdened and ready for your next fling to satisfy your ego” you said as you began to walk towards the apartment door.

You looked over your shoulder and told him: “I don’t know if I can forgive you. I know I don’t believe you. I wish I did. I really do. But my memories of every little thing you did over the years that hurt me are keeping me from letting go. I’m glad we both got to say what we always needed to say to each other. I’m not sure we’ll see each other again, but if we don’t, we can at least have closure now. Goodbye, Jeonghan.”

You got home that night and you were just… Numb. You couldn’t cry anymore. You didn’t want to scream. You just sat on your couch, staring at your wall, not knowing what to do and how to move on from this. From him. 

You fell asleep on your couch that night and woke up the next day feeling even worse.

You reached out to both Lily and Seungcheol and they were very supportive but they also made sure you knew they weren’t going to advise you any further. The next decision was entirely up to you. 

The next week went by so slowly. You still felt like shit and it seemed to only get worse each day.

It may sound stupid but you missed him. You had just seen him. You had a bad fight. Yet, you missed him. 

You went to your closet and took out the box of pictures you had hidden there. You started looking over each one of them. All of them were attached to such great memories. Memories of days together, nights together, vacations together. You were always smiling brightly. You remember all those feelings. Everything he had made you feel when you were together. 

You started to regret some of the things you said last time you saw him. He cared for you deeply. You could tell from the pictures and from all the good memories you had. He always protected you and made sure you felt safe and warm. Your friendship was nothing like the flings he had. You went too far. You wanted to hurt him but you weren’t fair in your accusations.

You’re pretty sure that’s why you feel like shit. You thought saying these things to him and hurting him would make you feel better. It would leave you satisfied knowing he was hurting like you did all those times. But it didn’t. It made you feel so much worse than before. 

You fucked up and now it was your turn to fix it. You knew if you went back there, it would mean you would forgive him. Were you ready for that? Was that what you wanted?

You dropped the pictures, grabbed your keys and left. 

You were standing in front of his door wondering if you should ring the doorbell. He might be busy. He might not even be home. You didn’t even know what you were going to say. Fuck, this was a terrible idea. You need to leave. Now. Go home. Regroup and come back with a plan.

The door opened and a tired Jeonghan was staring at you, blinking in confusion with his jacket halfway on his body.

“Hmm… Hi… I wanted to talk to you. I should’ve called or texted before. Sorry. I should leave. Sorry” you were shaking and started to leave but he grabbed your elbow and stopped you from moving.

“No. Stay. I’m not busy. Talk to me. Please” he asked you.

“You were leaving though… I feel bad… I--”

“I was out of whiskey. Was going to buy more. It doesn’t matter. Stay. Come in. Talk. Please, love” he interrupted you and he never let go of your arm. 

“O..Okay. Yeah. Okay” you nodded and went inside his apartment.

He took off both his jacket and shoes and you did the same. You looked around. The house was messy. Very unusual. Jeonghan was a creature of habits and he hated messiness. This was your fault.

You decided to be blunt again. 

“Did you mean it? What you said last week? All of it?” you asked him nervously.

“Yes. Every word. I know it’s hard to believe but I meant every fucking word” he responded just as bluntly.

“What about Haneul? You brought her around the boys… To the party…” 

You hated that you asked but you had to know everything before giving him a permanent answer.

“She invited herself. Pretty much blindsided me into joining us. She’s been following me around the company. I’ve made myself very clear. I’m not available and it will never happen but she wasn’t backing down. I’ve been really tired. Exhausted, after losing you. I had no strength left in me to fight her. I would just ignore her until she gets the message. Not my finest moment but I couldn’t care less” he said plainly.

You nodded and started getting really nervous. You gulped and asked him your final question.

“I was an asshole last week. I’m sorry. I said a lot of things that weren’t fair. I wanted to hurt you. I regret most of it. After all I said, do you still want me? Want us? Want to spend the rest of your life making it up to me?”

“That’s all I want. I want all of it. I deserved your words. I deserved to be hurt. I should be the one apologizing. But fuck yeah. If you give me that chance, this last chance, I will never let you go again” he said as he walked closer to you until he was so close you could feel his breath on your lips.

You looked up at him.

“Deal. I want to forgive you. I want to move forward with you. With us. But I have a few rules…”

He looked in your eyes and started to smirk. You were giving him a taste of his own medicine. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy but he would do everything to earn you back.

You moved away from him and started to put your shoes and jacket on, getting ready to leave.

“No sex. Not in the beginning. I want romance. Lots of dates. We have similar tastes and you know me better than anyone. Choose wisely” he laughed and nodded along.

“Kissing is very much allowed and encouraged. This is obviously an exclusive relationship and I am to be called and to be treated as your girlfriend, always” he kept smiling and was starting to tear up. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

“Anything else, princess?” he asked.

“No princess. I like baby much better. Or angel. Other than that, no other rules. For now” you answered him. And before you left, you walked towards him, intertwined your hands and asked him sincerely:

“I missed you, Hannie. Don’t make me regret this, okay?”

“Never, baby. You’re mine now. I missed you so much, too. Let me take you out tomorrow, yeah? First date?” he asked back.

“I can’t tomorrow. Friday I’m free. Pick me up after work?”

“I’ll be there, baby” he said and you turned to leave.

Right before you left he told you “I’ll be texting you. Don’t ignore your boyfriend, baby. He’s very needy”

You laughed as you nodded and left his apartment.

You got home that night and you couldn’t sleep. You were so happy. Is this even real? This wasn’t a dream, right? And as you were having these thoughts, Jeonghan texted you just as he promised right before you left his apartment.

Next thing you knew, a month flew by. Your first month together as a couple.

So far he’s kept all his promises. He was the one worshiping you now. He always texted or called to make sure you were safe and happy. He took you out on multiple dates a week and always made you feel like you were the only two people in the whole world.

On your first date he took you to the restaurant down the street from his place that you always wanted to go. You had a feeling he was going to pick that place and you made fun of him for it but he kept saying ‘I told you, baby. From now on, I will do everything to earn your forgiveness and love. Clichés and all’.

After your first date, he took you home and kissed you so gently by the door. 

You never thought you would feel this way. You felt complete. The happiest you had ever been.

During this month together, he never made any additional moves on you. 

You had kissed. A lot. 

Made out like teenagers. A lot.

But he always stopped it and ended your date there.

You knew you asked for this in the beginning as one of your rules but you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You needed him. You knew you had to be the one to make the move or show that you are ready. Otherwise, he will keep respecting your boundaries no matter how hard you want him to disrespect them.

Today you met up with Lily for lunch. The guys and Lily had barely seen the two of you. You only had time and eyes for each other and everyone was letting you two enjoy this new relationship without any interruptions.

“You are glowing, you know that, Y/N?” she asked as she ate.

You laughed and told her “I’m just so fucking happy. I never thought this would happen. He’s been so amazing. And it doesn’t feel different. I mean, our friendship. We’re still infuriating with each other but now we just have the added benefit of kissing to shut each other up.”

“And fucking” she said loudly and you hushed her while you two giggled.

“We’re in public, asshole. And about the fucking…” you said.

“Nothing yet? I gotta give it to him. Never thought he would be able to last this long without making a move. Good for him” she said and kept giggling.

“Good for him? I am dying here, woman. I’ve tried everything. All my moves, all the signs and he just won’t do anything” you whispered.

“It’s your fault. You made it a ‘rule’. You should know that not only would he take this seriously, but he would also use this to torture you for as long as he could. Possibly until you begged him to fuck you” she said again way too loudly in this very public restaurant.

You looked around after shushing her and you realized what she just said. Oh my god. He’s doing this on purpose. Of course. You should’ve known better. You gave him a challenge and he was punishing you for it, the little shit.

“I love that you are only realizing this now” she said and kept laughing.

“Shut up and finish your food” you bit back at her.

You had a date tonight with Jeonghan. You had offered to cook for the both of you. More of an intimate date. And you were going in for the kill tonight. You were done waiting but you were also going to have some fun with him.

You had this pink dress in your closet that you bought almost a year ago. You were saving it for a really good date or so you kept telling everyone. And we’re here now. 

Pink is not your usual pick but this dress is a killer. And an added bonus: Jeonghan loves seeing you in pink. This dress is just short enough. Obscene cleavage. A bit corseted. Enough to let your natural curves speak for themselves.

Underneath the dress, the smallest thong was covering your pussy and of course, no bra.

You had covered your body in the watermelon body lotion he loved smelling on you. Very little makeup and hair down. Just how he liked it on you.

Everything was ready and waiting for him. Food was ready and in the oven. You had set the mood with the candles, lighting and music in the living room and dining room and your bedroom was certainly refreshed and ready to greet him.

When you opened the door and he had the chance to see you. You knew you made all the right choices tonight. He stared you up and down and gulped.

“Like what you see, Hannie?” you asked and walked away from him towards your kitchen.

He came up behind you before you could reach the kitchen counter, turned you around and kissed you. Deeply. Full of passion. Until you were both out of breath. He started touching the bottom part of your dress with his fingertips very lightly.

“‘You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, baby. Why haven’t I seen this dress before?” he asked.

“Well… You weren’t exactly the best boy to me for a while. But now… Now you deserve to see it. All for yourself, too” you said, still panting and recovering from the kiss.

And in a very Jeonghan fashion, he completely surprises you with his next question.

“Has anyone else seen you in this dress, baby? On a date? Who have you worn this for before me, hmm?”

You smiled and whispered in his ear: “No one else but you.”

He almost growled at you and started leaning in again to kiss you. He had that look in his eyes you knew all too well and you moved away from him.

“We should eat. Food is getting cold, Hannie” you said and moved towards the oven.

He stared and narrowed his eyes at you but he knew what you were playing at. He knew you too well. Let’s see who has the most self-control tonight, then.

You had a great meal. He complimented your cooking as usual and kept holding your hand every time he saw the opportunity to. 

Everything was perfect. 

You two started cleaning up after eating and you kept talking about everything that was going on in your lives.

Everything was always so easy between the two of you. 

You both sat on the couch and decided to watch a movie together. He was very touchy during the whole movie. His hand was moving higher and higher up your thigh and every time he moved it higher, he sighed, almost moaned. 

You were so fucking wet and he had barely done anything. Tonight had to be the night, right? ‘He wasn’t that evil’ you thought.

When the movie ended and his hand was almost completely underneath your dress, he moved closer to you, leaned in, held your chin in his hands and started to whisper against your lips.

“I should go, it’s getting late”

He laughed after watching the disappointment in your eyes, got up and started getting ready to leave.

You also got up and grabbed his jacket to stop him.

“You can’t leave yet” you said shakily.

He hummed.

“Why’s that, baby? Something you want from me?” he asked as he walked back over to you.

Okay, you can say it. It’s fine. Just ask him. Tell him, do anything.

“Ugh… Nevermind. Just… Drive safe, I guess” and you tried handing his jacket back to him.

He licked his lips, ripped the jacket from your hands, threw it on the couch and started walking you backwards towards the living room wall.

Once you were backed up against the wall, he placed both hands on each side of your head.

“Is it so hard to ask to get fucked, hmm? Not like you haven’t done it before. What’s with the pride, baby?” he asked.

You stared at him with uneven breaths but stayed silent.

“You know me, baby. Either ask me what I want to hear or I’ll leave you here against this wall in your probably very small and very wet panties” he said and started kissing down your neck.

“Stay. Fuck me” you said hurrily and barely in a whisper.

“You have to do better than that, baby. Ask me nicely since you’ve been a tease all fucking night” he said and now one of his hands was on your thigh, rubbing circles.

“Please, fuck me, Hannie. Please. I can’t wait anymore. You’re driving me crazy” you begged and he must have liked it because you felt him chuckle against your skin.

He pulled your dress up and slapped your clothed pussy. You moaned.

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it? You’ve wanted me to fuck you for a while now. Was wondering when you were going to start acting like a greedy little slut. My greedy little slut” he told you while he cupped your pussy.

“Hannie…” you moaned.

He moved away from you and started walking to your bedroom. You followed him. He sat on your bed and started unbuttoning his shirt while licking his lips and staring at you.

You stood in front of him.

“Take it all off, baby and come sit on my face” he told you.

You were nervous. You hadn’t done this before. Not with him. But you were also excited.

You took it all off, just as he asked and you started moving closer. He layed back on the bed and beckoned you to join him.

You did. You laid on top of him completely naked and you started kissing each other. His hands were everywhere. You couldn’t get enough of him. 

He stopped kissing you and started moving up on the bed to straddle his head and he dove right in. No hesitation. No words. No more waiting. He was eating you out like a starved man. You were holding on to the top of your bed and his hair.

He was being sloppy and loud and moving up and down between your clit and your hole. He spanked you hard and moved one of his hands to your folds. He started fingering you using two fingers while sucking hard on your clit. 

You were so fucking close already. This was fucking embarrasing. You start shaking and moving away from his mouth and he spanks you again.

“Don’t fucking move away from me again. Don’t you dare. Don’t be embarrassed and cum. Let go. Cum” he told you then while pushing your hips back down on his mouth.

And as soon as he pushed you back down and continued his movements, you started falling apart and moaning his name so fucking loud. 

He didn’t stop then. He kept going.

“Hmm… Sensitive… Can’t… Hannie…” you whined.

“Shhh baby, you can give me more. I know you can. Fucking give it to me. I’m fucking greedy” he started fingering you again, slower this time and started marking your thighs with his mouth until he saw purple marks all over your inner thighs. 

You kept moaning and whining and you were getting louder and impatient. He laughed and moved back on your clit.

This time he added a third finger and kept sucking on your clit. It was a mess, you were sure of it. His face, his fingers. You had never felt this wet and this sloppy before and you were getting closer and closer.

With his free hand, he cupped your breast and twisted your nippled between his fingers and you came again with a cry of his name.

You started slumping on the bed while you were still panting and he moved you off of him and laid you on your back.

He started kissing down your neck and taking his clothes off.

When he was fully naked and on top of you, you grabbed his face with both of your hands and you looked in his eyes. You wanted to know what he was thinking. How he was feeling.

“I love you, baby. So fucking much. Let me have you now, yeah?” he asked as he looked into your eyes. Almost as if he knew that you needed that, you needed to hear him say it.

You kissed him again and tangled your hand in his hair.

You both gasped when he started pushing into you and you both moaned when he bottomed out completely.

“Fuck, I missed you so fucking much. This pussy was made for me. I might not last long, baby. It’s been too long since I had you” he whispered in your ear.

“Hmmm, what about since your other ‘fuck-buddies’? How long ago was that?” you asked and he stared in your eyes and got very serious. You hated that you asked it but you need to know the answer.

“I haven’t been with anyone else after you. I thought that was obvious, baby. I want you. I spent all these months wanting you. No one else” he said and started kissing you again.

You stopped kissing him and asked him to start moving and he did.

He held your hips in place with one hand and with the other he intertwined your fingers together and he started pounding into you. No mercy. He was desperate for you and you for him.

“Fuck, Hannie… So good… Feels so fucking good… Don’t stop, please…”

He grunted in response and kept pounding into you.

You were getting closer again and he felt it so he moved the hand that was holding yours to push down on your stomach and kept pounding you hard into the mattress.

“You’re so close aren’t you, baby? I can fucking feel it. You’re squeezing me so hard, baby. Fuck… Let go. Let me feel you”

He leaned his forehead against yours and you came again. This is the loudest you have probably been. You feel shy all of a sudden but you can’t say anything coherent. You’re mostly babbling at this point and he starts laughing at you.

“Don’t tell me I fucked you stupid, baby. Use your words properly, you’re a big girl”

“Hannie… s’good…”

He kept laughing and kissing you and he leaned back to move one of your legs and place it on his shoulder.

He was now squeezing your thigh of the leg on his shoulder with one hand and grabbing your tits with his other hand and he started slowly thrusting into you. So you could feel every vein and every ridge on his cock moving inside of you. This felt like torture but you knew he was delaying his orgasm as much as he could.

“Look at you… My angel… You’re so gorgeous like this under me… Fuck, I’m never letting you go. My good girl… Hmm? Are you my good girl, baby? Answer me”

You started nodding.

“Yes… Yeah… Yours.. Good… Good girl…”

It was your turn now to surprise him. You grabbed his hand that was on your tits and moved it to your neck.

“Fuck, baby… Want me to choke you? Can’t have anything nice, can we? Calling you my good girl and you start acting like a greedy little slut again”

He chuckled and started thrusting into you with much more force and speed. The hand on your neck started squeezing lightly and you started whining and feeling closer and closer to the edge again.

“Gonna cum one last time, hmm? With my hand around your throat like a slut? Yeah… Fuck yeah… Cum with me then, angel”

He leaned down to kiss you and you started cumming again. This time your vision turned white. You thought you were dreaming. This felt surreal.

You kept repeating his name over and over again and when you said ‘I love you’, he finally came inside you with a grunt and a low moan in your ear.

He laid down on top of you as you both recovered and he kept playing with your hair and calling your name.

“Baby… You okay? Was that too much? Come back to me, don’t fall asleep yet, we need to clean up”

You laid with your eyes closed and hummed.

“I’m here, Hannie. Just… Give me a few minutes… I think you broke me” you said and you both started laughing.

“Good broken though?” he asked.

“Fucking amazing broken” you answered and you kept laughing together.

After a few more minutes of laying together in pure bliss, he convinced you to get up and take a shower with him.

He had to hold you up for most of it. You were so tired. He kept poking fun at you and all you could mumble was ‘your fault’ and he started chuckling.

You shared a bed for the first time as a couple that night. You remember feeling like this was supposed to have been happening since the very beginning of your friendship. 

You knew you wanted to have him with you here for the rest of your life and all you could do was hope he meant every word he said and that he would want the same with you. It was the best sleep of your life that night.

You woke up the next morning to the sounds of Jeonghan singing to the music he was playing and what sounded like cooking. 

Fuck, you were starving. But first, you had to make yourself look presentable. He always looked so good in the morning and you… Well.., you had more of a rough appearance in the morning so you needed a moment to collect yourself before following the sound of his beautiful voice.

You went to the bathroom to do your morning routine and afterwards you joined him in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Hannie. What are you cooking, baby?” you said as you hugged him from behind.

“Hmm… Morning, angel. Just some eggs and sausage. You didn’t have much more”

“Sounds delicious, thank you” you said as you moved to sit on the kitchen counter behind him.

“We have to replace all those photos, baby” he said as he turned around to look at you.

You knew he meant the pictures you had ripped apart and put back together after your falling out.

“I don’t want to. I like them this way. It tells our story. It’s a little broken but in the end it got put back together” you said and smiled at him.

He smiled and turned back to the stove.

“You just want to get our kids on your side and have me as the bad guy, huh?” he asked and you chucked.

“Kids? Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, no? Let’s not make promises we can’t keep. We both have done enough of those” you said and he nodded and laughed.

You felt so happy when he said that but you didn’t want to sound too eager. You knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him but you still were scared that he would regret this eventually and leave you again.

What you didn’t know was that this time, he wasn’t going to let you go anywhere, and he was never going anywhere without you.

He was going to spend the rest of his life by your side, earning back every once of trust and love he lost from you before.

He was okay with you still being guarded. He knew you had nothing to worry about and he would prove it to you. Soon enough he will take out the engagement ring he bought after your first date and he will make sure you stay by each others’ side always.

The ultimate pinky promise.

It’s here guys and it’s a monster 😭 I really hope it lives up to your expectations. I’m still nervous about everything I write! Please let me know in the comments and such if you liked it  💕 Thank you for supporting me! CHEERS 🥂

Taglist (if you requested specifically): @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @lannadray @cvixmei @feat-sun @cvpidxo @yunjinified @shuahasmyheartffs @jjjzzz @starlight-night0 @rendeciu @momoxxchewz @miniseokminnies @meowmeowminnie @sofix-hc7 @aaniag @shinetogether17 @goodforgyu @sharkipoonis

#jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #jeonghan #jeonghan fic #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan fic #vee's writings

[wheeboo]

"pretty." | yoon jeonghan

SYNOPSIS. in which jeonghan calls you pretty. PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. one kiss on the cheek, terms of endearment, jeonghan just being down bad and whipped for you lmao WORD COUNT. 1k

notes: because who wouldn't wnt to write something from that clip of him kissing gyu on the cheek cuz he's pretty?? anyway. can u tell that my fav word is pretty...

Jeonghan finds you pretty.

Pretty like... the first rays of dawn painting the sky in streaks of colours. Not like a fiery and blazing sunrise, but a soft, hesitant awakening; the hush before the world truly stirs to life.

His gaze lingers on your quiet form right next to him, eyes tracing the path of sunlight across your cheek peeking in from the shutters of the window, the way it seems to kiss the curve of your jawline and dance in the strands of your hair. A sleepy smile forms at his own lips, head tilting slightly as he lets out the quietest of chuckles.

Pretty like... the way a flower blooms. Each petal peeks out from the bud, hesitant at first, then unfurling with a contented sigh. Like the way you smile, Jeonghan thinks, merely a shy bloom starting at the corners of your lips before blossoming into the radiant sunflower that he always believes that you are.

Your chest rises up and down rhythmically, lips twitching ever so slightly, and Jeonghan wonders what kind of dreams must be playing in your mind𑁋if he should at all try to intervene and chase away the frequent nightmares that sometimes visit, and the clouds that occasionally cast shadows on your peaceful expression.

Pretty like... a book whose cover is worn and flimsy, its pages softened by countless turns and accidental (and intentional) rips, yet the ink still vibrantly tells tales of laughter and tears, of mishaps and misfortunes, of you. But even with this, the spine of the book remains unbroken.

Jeonghan remembers you reading a book last night, an older story if he recalls. He remembers the way your brows furrowed in concentration, hands clutched on the worn paperback, and how your lips moved silently, mouthing words only your heart could hear. He remembers the way your eyes lit up when you turned a page and nudged at his side to get his attention even if he didn't know what the story was about, a flicker of joy to your face like a firefly illuminating the room and the night skies.

Suddenly, a vibration snaps Jeonghan awake at this point, focus darting towards the unwelcomed presence of his phone on the nightstand. The screen casts a harsh light against the gentle morning glow, and Jeonghan reluctantly detaches himself to reach over for it, noting incoming messages from his members about their scheduled practice for later today, the words blurring slightly as sleep clings stubbornly to his eyelids. He quickly types out a message before silencing his phone, and then he shoots a contemplative glance back to you, before slipping out of the sheets and tip-toeing out of the bedroom.

Pretty like... the first sip of morning coffee. Not a jolt of bitter heat, but a warm caress on the tongue, enough to awaken the senses slowly. Jeonghan moves silently throughout your shared space, not wanting to disturb your peace. The aroma of brewing coffee wafts through the air, intertwining with the lingering traces of dawn and the new day ahead.

Carefully pouring a cup for himself, Jeonghan adds a sprinkle of cinnamon on top, the scent swirling like a mini-tornado and playfully tickling his nose. He remembers how you once told him you associate cinnamon with warmth and comfort, and a soft smile graces his lips.

He glides through the rest of his morning routine with practiced ease, mindful not to disturb your slumber, the quietness only punctuated by the occasional soft melody hummed under his breath of one of his songs. As time continues to pass, nearing to when he has to leave, Jeonghan glances at the numbers displayed on his phone, and a tinge of bittersweetness settles in his stomach. A tiny frown creases across his brow as he sets down his empty coffee cup and smooths over the fabric of his shirt with a sigh.

Heading back into the bedroom, he finds you still slumbering on the bed, the streaks of morning light painting over your cheeks. Jeonghan trots over to the window and gently adjusts the shutters, letting in a wider ray of sunlight that dances across your nose.

A creak from the bed tells him you're stirring, and he turns just in time to see your eyes flutter open. Sunlight spills across your face, bathing over your features like honey, and his breath catches in his throat, as if he'd just swallowed a handful of butterflies. You look even more beautiful than the dawn, he thinks.

A sleepy yawn escapes you, stretching your arms above your head, your eyes still closed shut from the light.

"Hannie...?" You mumble out, and Jeonghan is swift to come racing to your side, sitting himself down at the edge of the bed right beside you.

"Morning, angel," he says softly, letting a finger push back a few loose strands of hair flying over your face. "I was about to tell you that I'm leaving."

Your eyes flutter open just slightly, just enough to catch the small curve to your boyfriend's lips, yet mind still cloudy with sleep to even process it. "Hmm... what time is it?"

"Still early. You can go back to sleep," Jeonghan tells you reassuringly. "I just wanted to see your face before I leave."

His words send a faint smile to play across your lips.

"Why do you always have to leave so early?" You ask, voice raspy with sleep.

Jeonghan lets his hand lace with yours on the sheets, the warmth spreading through your fingers and coursing through your body.

"Work calls, love," he says, voice soft but laced with a playful tone. "But you know I wouldn't leave if I didn't have to."

A low groan leaves your mouth as your adjust yourself further into the comfort of the bed while still not letting go of his hand, your eyes fluttering closed again. Jeonghan just chuckles at your sulky antics, and you feel the way his finger caresses lightly over your knuckle.

Pretty like... a diamond ring glinting in the soft morning light, a promise of forever shimmering between them. He knows with a certainty settled deep in his bones that one day he'll slide that very ring onto your finger. But for now, the promise waits beneath the surface, a secret shared only by the gentle stroke of his thumb against your skin and the way his gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on your face𑁋hair messy and clinging to the pillow, eyes closed shut once more, yet you've never looked more beautiful to him.

And so, Jeonghan leans down, lips meeting in a feathery kiss at the skin of your cheek just below your eye. He lingers there for a moment, savouring the warmth of your skin against his own, before lowering himself down just next to your ear.

"Pretty," he whispers softly, simply, and irrevocably in love.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziees @mirxzii @bookyeom

#kflixnet #k-labels #caratsland #caratlibrary #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fic #yoon jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan fic #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt #seventeen #svt fic

[lololololchips]

Yoon Jeonghan || in which love is everywhere…

synopsis: in which love is everywhere, especially in chat logs of two random strangers

genre: one shot smau, fake texts, fluff, strangers x lovers, non!idol

warnings: cursing, fem pronouns, fluffly sighness i need a jeonghan

#svt jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan seventeen #yoon jeonghan #svt jeonghan smau #svt jeonghan social media au #svt jeonghan fake texts #svt jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan svt #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan seventeen #seventeen smau #seventeen social media au #seventeen fluff #seventeen fake texts #svt smau #svt social medi au #kpop one shot smau #kpop smau #kpoptexts #kpop social media au #kpopsmau #seventeen one shot #🐾

[thepixelelf]

ah! love - 2

genres: married life au, family au, fluff, comedy [best friends to lovers?] relationship: husbands 95 line x reader (feat. baby doremi line) words: 3.4k warnings and notes: mentions of alcohol; coarse language. y'all wanted more and so did I. any stuff in this au will likely not be chronological. I literally had to think about how to tell a kid they're adopted for this it sucked. (I still love it)

ah! love masterlist

Seungkwan learns a new word.

Seungkwan, like all other five (and a half!) year-olds, knows everything.

He knows how to cook eggs and how many sides an octagon has. He knows to always ask papa Jeonghan for extra sweets because he's the only one who ever says yes after you've said no. (His other parents also say yes, sometimes, if you've left the room, but Jeonghan is always the fastest to cave.) He knows Chan is a baby who doesn't know anything. 

And he knows he and Vernon are The Twins.

Because when it's time for dinner, and Seungkwan is playing with Vernon in their room, papa Joshua always asks you, "Can you grab the twins?"

When papa Seungcheol comes home from (well, hm, maybe Seungkwan doesn't know everything) wherever he goes when they go to kindergarten, he kisses you on the cheek in the entryway, kicks off his shoes, then crouches down, arms open and awaiting for Seungkwan and Vernon to barrel into them, and growls happily, "There are my twins!" 

And when he found you in the kitchen one night, while you were sitting on the counter (which is not allowed!!), with papa Jeonghan standing between your legs for reasons unclear to Seungkwan, you both looked surprised. Seungkwan concluded this was because papa Jeonghan had just whispered, "The twins are asleep," and Seungkwan was, in fact, not. 

Which is why he scoffs at the older girl who came up to him and Vernon on the playground. Vernon is busy building his sand tunnels, but the girl has Seungkwan's full attention.

"You are not twins," she says.

"Yes we are."

She is unrelenting. "No. My big brothers are twins, and they look exactly the same."

Seungkwan looks over at Vernon, who's now mixing wet sand and dry sand into a big ol' pile of sand soup. They don't look alike at all, he knows. His hair is black, and Vernon's is brown. His cheeks are rounder — sometimes you pretend to bite into them before planting a kiss — while Vernon's are a bit pinker.

"We are twins," Seungkwan says again, because maybe not all twins are like her big brothers. Maybe some twins are like him and Vernon.

Besides, his papas say they're twins. Why wouldn't they be?

The girl crosses her arms. "My big brothers have the same birthday."

Seungkwan is about to bite back, say something like maybe not all twins have the same birthday, meanie! but Vernon waves his hand in the air, yelling out, "Ms Han!" 

Their teacher comes over, bending and putting her hands on her knees as she asks Vernon what's going on.

He points at the girl. "She's saying we're not twins because we don't have the same birthday."

"Oh." Ms Han scratches the back of her neck, "Well, sweetie, the thing is…"

⭒

Jeonghan's shaky eyes glance at the rear-view mirror again, half checking for cars and half checking up on the babies in the back seat.

Seungkwan has been quiet the entire eight minutes they've been driving, which might be normal if he was any kindergartner other than Seungkwan. Vernon can get talkative too, but right now he's completely silent, immersed in squishing and un-squishing his favourite toy — a plushie shaped like a baked bean (Jeonghan has no idea where you found that thing or why Vernon is obsessed with it) — between his tiny fingers. 

Of course, Jeonghan had to be the one on pick-up duty the day one of their teachers finally gave them the whole, you may have to explain adoption talk. 

"So," he says, awkward, trying to smile. "How was school?"

Vernon squeezes his toy again. "It was," he says, and nothing else.

God, Jeonghan needs backup.

As soon as Jeonghan pulls up to the house, unbuckles the twins from their booster seats, and ushers them inside, Vernon pulls off his shoes and dashes into the house — to you, Jeonghan is sure. Vernon doesn't play favourites except that he does.

Seungkwan, though, looks up at Jeonghan and tugs his pant leg, saying, "Papa Shua wants to talk to you in his room."

Which isn't true, of course; Seungkwan hasn't been all of thirty seconds in the house, and Joshua isn't even home, out on an errand. But Jeonghan can take a social cue, even if it is from a five year old. As he climbs the stairs, he pulls out his phone and messages the guys to try to come home as soon as they can.

⭒

You're reading to Chan on the living room couch, him tucked under your left arm and a quiet Vernon who's wormed his way under your right arm clutching your shirt like you're both afloat in open water, when Seungkwan walks up, climbs onto your lap, (shoving the book out of the way in the process,) and presses his face into your stomach. He mumbles something you can't quite hear.

You chuckle, bringing a hand up to run over his soft hair. "What's that, baby?"

Slowly, he lifts his head, his eyelids low with the gaze of a war-hardened veteran. "They're lying," he says, no nonsense in sight.

Your hand pauses. "Huh?"

"We gotta leave. They lied. Could be lying about anything."

You try to smile past the confusion. "What do you mean?"

Seungkwan, sweet, adorable, chubby-cheeked Seungkwan whom you love with all your heart, fists the material of your top in both his hands, growling in a way you somehow know is protective. 

"We gotta get outta here."

⭒-⭒-⭒

"Please get me out of here."

Joshua snorted at your plea, his voice soft and teasing through the phone. “What happened to ‘living out your twenties’?”

You let your eyes roam over your surroundings — a house party (a frat one in particular, you were pretty sure) with flashing coloured lights, late 2000’s top 40 songs, and what must've been over a hundred drunken 18-22 year olds. A haze hung in the air that smelled like the unholy combination of cotton candy, root beer, green apple, and skunk. A younger friend you’d made at your internship had invited you, but they were nowhere to be seen.

“I take it back,” you said, walking through the house in search of your friend. “I’m old now. I’m a hermit.”

“You’re not old.”

You scoffed. “You’re only saying that because you don’t wanna admit you’re old.”

“No, I’m serious,” Joshua argued, though you could tell he was smiling as he spoke. “We’re only like a quarter of the way through our lives— there’s still so much ahead.”

“Okay Socrates, whatever.” You pulled your phone away from your ear when you felt it vibrate. Your friend answered your last message, telling you they were heading home to take care of another friend they trust, and that they’d text you when they got there. “I’m just trying to get out of here so I can go home, steep a nice cup of decaf tea, and, I dunno, take up knitting or something. Granny style.”

Some shuffling happened on the other end of the line, and you thought you heard Joshua say something, but not to you.

“Anyway,” you sighed, winding your way through the crowd to finally leave that steam room of a house party. “I just called to complain. I’m gonna call a taxi.”

“Don’t bother. I’m on my way.”

You paused, your hand on a stair railing. “What?”

“I’m coming to pick you up,” Joshua spoke with all the nonchalance of someone ordering coffee.

Glancing at your phone screen, you countered with, “It’s almost midnight.”

“Yeah, well, I’m already driving, so it’d actually be more inconsiderate of you to tell me to turn around if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Joshua…”

"Shush," he tutted. "Just stay on the line with me until I get there. And drink some water if you can." There was a pause as you heard noises through the phone. Joshua added, "But only if you find a sealed water bottle, or pour the water yourself."

You finally reached the front entrance, content to wait outdoors for your unexpected ride since the weather wasn't too bad. "Do I sound drunk to you?"

"You didn't drink?"

"I mean, I had one," you said with a shrug he couldn't even see. 

"Well maybe that explains why you're not having a good time."

"You're such a bad influence, Shua."

"Saying that to your designated driver is so rude, just so you know."

"I didn't ask you to DD!"

Joshua sighed playfully. "Yeah, yeah. As if you don't know we'd do anything for you."

Mouth open, you fumbled with what words to say in your head.

Did you know that? Maybe you did.

You knew that if you and Joshua had switched places, you would've done exactly the same thing he was doing now.

And why did he say "we"?

Before you could vocalize anything, Joshua said, "I see you. Turn around."

And there it was— Joshua's tiny, bright blue hatchback, affectionately dubbed the Blueberry by you and your three boys.

Speaking of whom…

"Jeonghan?" You blinked at the man in the passenger seat when he rolled down the window.

"Hey, devil," he let the nickname fall from his lips with a smirk. It was a new one, this moniker for you, his payback for you jokingly calling him an angel. He jerked his head in a gesture towards the back seat. "We're busting you out of this joint."

You huffed out a laugh at his joke, yanking open the back door of the Blueberry. Immediately, a pair of large, grabby hands pulled you inside. "Whoa— Seungcheol, you too?"

Too tired apparently to answer with words, Seungcheol only nodded, reaching over your shoulder to take your seatbelt, extend it over you, and buckle it in. He settled back down in the middle seat rather than the more spacious one on the other side of the car. Closing his eyes and crossing his arms, he relaxed his entire body and let his head fall onto your shoulder, all without a word.

"Were you asleep?" you asked him quietly as Joshua pulled away from the curb.

Seungcheol just breathed in deeply and leaned more of his weight on you.

"Guys…" You turned your attention to the two boys in front. "You didn't have to drag him along too. Did you wake him up for this?"

Joshua scoffed. "As if. You think I'd poke a sleeping bear on purpose?"

Twisting in his seat to face you, Jeonghan smiled in that sweet yet devious way you like so much. "He was worried about you all night, devil. Paced around the apartment for two hours, going on and on about 'kids these days' before he tired himself out and zonked on the couch. We tried to leave quietly, but he woke up and insisted on coming once he found out it was you on the phone."

"Oh," you said at the same time you thought you heard Seungcheol mumble, "Shut up."

You softly patted Seungcheol's arm, your fingers brushing against his with the way his hands were wrapped around his own biceps. "You know I can take care of myself, right?"

Seungcheol didn't answer, as you should've expected. Eyes still closed, he just flexed his fingers to hook one around your pinky and keep your hand where it was.

Meeting your eyes in the rear-view mirror, Joshua said, "We'd better get him home before he actually falls asleep back there. No way am I carrying him up the stairs."

"What do ya say, devil?" Jeonghan prompted. "Sleepover at ours?"

You smiled. "How could I ever say no to you guys?"

⭒-⭒-⭒

"Seungkwan," you say softly, a little bit confused and a little bit amused. "Who's lying?"

He sits up on your lap and cups both his hands around his mouth, only to not-really-whisper, "Parents."

"Me?" You point at yourself.

"Nooooooo!" Seungkwan whines with a pout, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Our other parents!"

You think about how Jeonghan was the one who went to pick up the boys from kindergarten... and how he's nowhere in sight now. "Papa Jeonghan is lying?"

Seungkwan nods emphatically, and to your surprise, Vernon nods too at your side. Chan sits in rapt attention of his older brother, who is probably blowing his four year old mind.

"And papa Shua," Seungkwan adds. "And papa Seungcheol."

You furrow your brows and tilt your head. "What are they lying about?"

"They said we are twins," Seungkwan finally reveals, and it starts to dawn on you. His words become frantic, voice wavering. "But Ms Han said we can't be twins because we have different birthdays, so we can't be twins bio-- bio--" He hiccups. "--logically."

"That's a big word," you say, because it's a struggle to respond with anything else right away. What-- Ms Han is teaching biology now?

Vernon gets out from under your arm and sits on his knees beside you on the couch. He holds up his hand for a high five. "Biologically."

Still a bit shocked, you high five him, then Seungkwan when he also puts his hand up. To be fair, that's what you do when they learn new, long words. The tears brimming in Seungkwan's eyes shouldn't deter learning encouragement, right?

"That's why we gotta go." Seungkwan sniffles. "Maybe they lie to you also. Maybe they are not biologically your husbands!"

God-- the parenting books don't teach shit like this.

"Seungkwan..." you start, though you don't know how to form the next sentence.

Vernon takes your hand and wraps all his tiny fingers around it. "Let's run away," he says with a determined nod, like a secret lover in a fairy tale.

Chan's eyes widen, and he throws himself around your middle. "I gonna save you!"

"Boys-- Wait--"

The front door bursts open to reveal a dishevelled Seungcheol. His hair is wild and fluffy, his tie loosened, and his suit jacket is in his hand rather than worn. He's barely thrown his shoes off by the time he catches sight of Seungkwan's teary eyes and your slightly-panicked expression. Immediately, he jogs towards the couch in, to you, obvious concern. "What's going on--"

But before he can get too close, Seungkwan lets out a terrified, demon-like shriek. He picks up the closest item -- the storybook you'd been reading to Chan -- and chucks it as hard as he can towards your husband.

It only hits the floor at Seungcheol's feet, but it causes him to freeze. He gawks at the book, then raises his head to look at you and the way your boys have all wrapped their little arms as tight as they can around whatever parts of you they can reach, their heads tucked in, hiding.

You can see it in his eyes-- him registering that they're scared of him.

"I--" His expression tightens, lips pressing together to stop from quivering.

From seemingly nowhere, Jeonghan appears, putting a comforting hand on Seungcheol's arm and pulling him out of the room. He whispers, "Let's give them a minute."

Both your husbands make eye contact with you as you tentatively hug your sons, and you nod, silently letting them know that you'll be okay.

("What the hell was that?" Seungcheol whispers harshly as soon as he and Jeonghan make it upstairs. "You said to come home ASAP-- I thought someone got hurt!"

Jeonghan crosses his arms. "Why wouldn't I just say someone was hurt?"

"You have got to be clearer in your texts.")

"Seungkwan." You readjust your body, trying not to jostle your sons too much. "Seungkwan, baby, can you look at me please?"

He lifts his head to meet your eyes.

"Did Ms Han tell you what 'biologically' means?"

Seungkwan's face scrunches up as he tries to find an answer to your question, and in that moment, Vernon sits up. "Real," he says.

"Now, that's not quite right," you tell them, and at that, all three of your boys look at you for an explanation. "A 'biological parent' is one of two people who made a baby, and that is their 'biological child."

The boys stay quiet, taking in the information. Thank goodness-- you don't want to have to skirt around the topic of "making" children.

"Biological twins," you continue, "are when two babies are made together, at the same time. Which is why they have the same birthday."

"We are not twins," Vernon reaffirms.

"That's right."

Seungkwan frowns. "Why do you call us 'the twins'?"

"It's just a nickname, sweetie. You and Vernon were born in the same year, and you do everything together, so for me and your other parents, you are kind of like twins." You smile. "Do you want us to stop calling you that? It's okay if you don't like it."

Putting a hand on his chin, Seungkwan ponders seriously for more than a few seconds.

"You can always change your mind at any time, okay?" you say, and he nods, continuing to think.

Chan tugs at your sleeve, and you turn to him. "Are you bio...ly marry?"

You chuckle. "No. Marriage is a little different-- your papas and I decided we wanted to be a family, so we chose each other, and to stay together. And now..." You boop Chan's nose, then Seungkwan's then Vernon's. "...you boys are part of our family, too."

Vernon perks up. "Did you choose us too?"

"Yup." You reach up a hand to ruffle through his brown hair. "And you know what? That makes you special. I may not be your biological parent, but I chose you three to be my sons, and I love you so much. That makes me your parent, don't you think?"

All three boys nod, Vernon still beaming, and Chan's hands clutching your sleeve. Seungkwan relaxes in your lap.

You hear the sound of the front door opening again, and, much slower than the last person, Joshua enters the house with two bags full of groceries. Chan pushes himself off you and slides off the couch to run towards Joshua, bouncing in front of him with his arms in the air. "Uppies."

Without a second beat, Joshua puts down the grocery bags on the bench by the door and scoops Chan into his arms. He walks up to the couch. "I just got Jeonghan's text. What's going on?"

You just smile and shake your head, taking one of Seungkwan's and Vernon's hands in each of yours. "And you know your papas love you more than anything too, right?"

While the boys nod, Joshua just blinks, totally lost. Chan hugs him tighter.

"I bet Seungcheol is a little bit sad about how you guys acted when he got home--"

Seungkwan pouts and drops his head. "I'm sorry..."

You squeeze his hand. "You don't have to be sorry, baby." You tighten your hand around Vernon's as well. "Either of you. You didn't understand something and it made you scared. That's okay. But now Seungcheol might not understand something, so we should help him, right?"

"How?" Vernon asks.

You tap your chin and look upwards, pretending to think. "Hmmm... How about we go upstairs and give him a biiiiiig hug!"

It turns out to be a great idea, because you find Seungcheol in his room, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking desolate. Seungkwan and Vernon climb him like monkeys, though, and they wrap themselves around him, press kisses to his face, and as soon as you mouth to Seungcheol that you'll explain later, all is right in the world again.

There's no brighter a smile on Cheol's face than when he's with his sons.

You stand, watching, with your arms crossed, satisfied with the scene until Jeonghan comes up and stands next to you, mimicking your stance. You swat at his arm, to which he reacts with such a pained facial expression, you'd think you just cut it off.

"I cannot believe you abandoned me to deal with that on my own!"

"Hey! I called for backup, didn't I?"

You roll your eyes. "A load of good that did."

"Aw, c'mon, devil..." Jeonghan slides closer to you, then wraps his arms around you and leans in to press his lips to your cheek. "Can I kiss it better?"

⭒

Joshua watches you and the twins run into Seungcheol's room with no further explanation, and he turns his attention to the youngest in his arms. "You wouldn't happen to know what's going on, would you?"

Chan shakes his head. "I'm four."

"Right."

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