#Master option trading
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indexandstocktradingacademy · 2 months ago
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Master The Market 10 Best Option Trading Strategies
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The world of option trading offers endless opportunities for traders looking to maximize their returns while managing risks. However, navigating the complexities of options can be daunting without the right knowledge. In this blog, we will walk you through the 10 best option trading strategies that every trader should know. Whether you’re a beginner or an intermediate trader, these strategies can help you master the market.
If you’re ready to take your skills to the next level, consider enrolling in a professional Option Trading Course at Index and Stock Trading Academy, where experts can guide you every step of the way.
1: What is Option Trading?
Before we dive into the strategies, let’s clarify what option trading is. In simple terms, options are financial contracts that give the buyer the right, but not the obligation, to buy or sell an asset at a specified price within a set time period. Options are powerful tools for risk management, speculation, and hedging, making them essential for both beginners and advanced traders.
2: The 10 Best Option Trading Strategies to Master
Here are the top 10 option trading strategies every trader should know:
Covered Call Strategy
This strategy involves holding a stock and selling a call option against it. It’s ideal for generating additional income while holding onto a stock you expect to stay relatively flat in price.
Protective Put Strategy
A great risk management tool, this strategy allows you to protect your stock from downside risk by buying a put option.
Straddle Strategy
Perfect for volatile markets, a straddle involves buying both a call and a put option with the same strike price and expiration date. You profit from significant price movements in either direction.
Iron Condor Strategy
For those looking to profit from low volatility, the iron condor involves selling two options at different strike prices and buying two options further away from the money, creating a wider range of potential profit.
Butterfly Spread
This advanced strategy limits both risk and reward, making it ideal for markets you believe will remain stable. It involves buying and selling multiple call or put options with different strike prices.
Long Call Strategy
A straightforward bullish strategy where you purchase a call option expecting the stock price to increase. This is ideal for beginners looking to speculate on stock movements.
Long Put Strategy
The opposite of the long call, this strategy involves buying a put option if you expect the stock price to drop. It’s a good way to profit from bearish markets.
Bull Call Spread
This strategy involves buying a call option at a lower strike price and selling another at a higher strike price. It reduces risk while providing potential for profits in a rising market.
Bear Put Spread
Similar to the bull call spread, but used in bearish markets. You buy a put option and sell another at a lower strike price, limiting your risk in a falling market.
Calendar Spread Strategy
This strategy involves buying a long-term option and selling a short-term option with the same strike price. It’s ideal for profiting from the time decay of the short-term option while holding a position in the long-term option.
3: Learning Options at Index and Stock Trading Academy
If you’re serious about mastering these strategies, there’s no better place than Index and Stock Trading Academy. We offer a comprehensive Option Trading Course that covers both basic and advanced techniques to help you become a proficient trader. Our expert trainers bring years of experience to help you confidently navigate the market and make informed decisions.
Located conveniently near Balewadi, Baner, Pashan, Aundh, Wakad, Mahalunge, Hinjewadi, Ravet, Kothrud, and Bavdhan, our academy is accessible to traders across Pune. Whether you’re new to options or looking to sharpen your skills, we have the right course for you.
Conclusion: Take Control of Your Financial Future with Option Trading
Mastering option trading strategies can be the key to success in today’s complex financial markets. By learning these top 10 strategies and applying them effectively, you can maximize profits while managing risks. To truly excel, consider professional training at Index and Stock Trading Academy, where our Option Trading Course will guide you step-by-step toward market success.
Style/Tone:
The tone of this blog will be professional yet conversational, striking a balance between educating the reader and making the content easy to understand. It will be data-driven, explaining strategies clearly, while also encouraging readers to seek expert guidance.
Call-to-Action (CTA):
Ready to master the stock market? Join our Option Trading Course at Index and Stock Trading Academy and learn from the experts. Visit our website https://www.indexandstocktradingacademy.com/ or call us at 7709643909 to get started today!
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stealthnoodle · 4 months ago
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I can be your angle, or yuor devil Or your table Or your ten other things
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mokeonn · 4 months ago
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Currently I have so many bg3 saves bc I refuse to delete my old ones that will likely never be finished (first ever gameplays, not optimized, everytime I open one I get overwhelmed and stop), but also because I keep making new games with the specific purpose of romancing a certain companion, seeing special dialog, doing a specific style of run, or getting an achievement on steam.
#simon says#currently the 4 that I have right now are fun but I wanna do a new one bc I like making characters and being silly#so far I have:#sad bardlock that was originally going to be a no-romance 'everyone's worst ending' run but then I finally decided to romance shadowheart#since the two of them absolutely give off sad lesbian vibes and just seem to make eachother better#because a doom and gloom bardlock constantly saying 'that sounds lovely :)' to anything shar related quickly made Shadowheart happy#next up is big hulking non-lolthsworn drow who is a cleric of Mystra#because I want to see how a cleric of mystra works with Gale and so far it has SUCH fun interactions#... Jak'ith. my gith jack-of-all-trades romancing Lae'zel#i would be a liar if I didn't say doing a legit jack of all trades run as a gith romancing Lae'zel wasn't the most fun out of all my saves#the interactions are so fucking funny I love it#like I highly recommend a gith lae'zel romance because it's so much fun just bouncing back and forth in dialog#and I got REALLY into stealing after playing Jak'ith so I made a duegar thief who is gonna eventually be a druid#and im gonna make her an exclusively Halsin romance bc I saw some of the duegar dialog options with him and I thought it would be funny#since my last Wyll romance went south (i had hubris in honor mode and lost it all) and I have still yet to romance Karlach or Minthara#those 3 are on my list for characters to make and play bc I haven't explored those routes yet#i also want to try doing a true goody two shoes durge run and a true evil durge run#obviously the evil run will probably be the Minthara romance#also on this list I am ignoring Astarion bc I have romanced him twice now in my two old durge runs so unless I can think of something unique#then im not doing anything with him for a while#well except playing as him#i got an old playthrough with him I should continue bc I wanted to see what his origin stuff would be like in act 3#at some point I do want to origin run all the origin characters bc it sounds really cool#but I want to get a good idea of their character arcs before I do#also for the achievements:#Jak'ith is the jack of all trades no Withers help achievement#My bardlock is the busking 100 gold one#and I want to do a punch drunk build at some point#which would probably be a monk bc of the drunken master robes you can get#but yeah I will probably end up with like 8 or more saves in the end
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orcelito · 24 days ago
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Actually it is SO weird to me to remember that I was an engineering student and that later on I had been pursuing a minor in statistics
I may be a IT & com person in the end, but I do have the foundations of engineering and statistics in my brain too. Wild !
#speculation nation#if i hadnt liked coding so much i probably wouldve still been an engineer.#like my school does a first year engineering track where u learn the basics and then explore different engineering options#so by ur second year u choose your official track and that decides the rest of your schooling.#and id been thinking about computer & electrical engineering. often goes hand in hand.#guys i couldve been an electrical engineer. honestly that wouldve been so cool. wasnt meant to be tho 👍#i took a coding class my 2nd semester. first experience with coding. it was in C. i LOVED it.#and it got me comparing computer engineering and computer science and i decided that i wanted to do computer science#but well the intro course for that fucking sucked. didnt wanna go back to engineering either bc i hated engineering lol#im smart enough but it's fuckin soul sucking man.#eventually tho i found my way to my current home. im a techie :3 and im happy with that.#anyways do i seem like the kind of person who was into engineering and statistics? sometimes it's weird for me to remember.#but i did spent Years assuming id end up as an engineer. my grandpa was one. my dad was studying to be one b4 he dropped out#and my sister is one. just kinda runs in the family i guess. & so i was So Sure that was where i was going.#took. an engineering class in high school and everything. taught me some good foundational skills in modeling#also was the class that let me develop my signature. bc we had a notebook we had to sign the top of every day#so me doing my signature over and over again. i decided to use it as an opportunity to make it My Own. rather than just my name in cursive.#so yeah im a techie that talks good but i do have that math brain. engineering basis. statistics knowledge.#kinda feel like a jack of all trades (master of none) with it all. but see thats a good thing for companies (i hope)#ive got foundational knowledge of many things. and i am Adaptable. they can teach me the in depth shit i need to know themselves.#and i Also have my work experience in management... which i hope will help my case when applying to companies too.#aaaahhh!!! so many things to think about!!! but at the end of the day i am smart & educated and i will be a good asset to any company i join#i just need to convince them of that 😂 but i can probably figure something out. something !!!#i will graduate college and get some kind of IT job that pays decently & work my way up to maybe someday being an IT manager or smth#i can finally start. truly growing up. instead of being stuck in forever college unable to drive myself anywhere.#have my IT job and a car and the ability to do Whatever i want.... god i want it so bad.#im just daydreaming by this point. god im so excited to finally graduate college.
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creativeblogwritingideas · 10 months ago
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Unveiling the Secrets: How to Master Binary Options in 5 Simple Steps
Introduction
Binary Options trading has gained immense popularity in recent years due to its simplicity and potential for high returns. However, mastering the art of Binary Options requires more than just luck. In this article, we'll delve into five key steps that can guide you on your journey to mastering Binary Options.
Educate Yourself
The first and foremost step to master Binary Options is to educate yourself thoroughly about the market and the trading process. Understand the basic concepts, terminology, and how Binary Options work. Familiarize yourself with different trading strategies, risk management techniques, and market analysis tools. There are numerous online resources, courses, and tutorials that can provide valuable insights into the world of Binary Options trading.
Choose a Reputable Broker
Selecting the right broker is crucial when it comes to mastering Binary Options. Look for a broker with a solid reputation, transparent trading conditions, and a user-friendly platform. Ensure the broker is regulated by relevant authorities to guarantee a secure trading environment. A reliable broker will offer a variety of assets, trading options, and provide essential tools and resources to enhance your trading experience.
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Develop a Solid Trading Plan
Successful Binary Options traders don't rely on luck; they have a well-thought-out trading plan. Define your trading goals, risk tolerance, and preferred trading strategy. Consider factors such as market analysis, entry and exit points, and money management. Stick to your plan, and avoid making impulsive decisions based on emotions. Consistency is key when it comes to mastering Binary Options.
Practice with a Demo Account
Before diving into live trading, it's essential to practice with a demo account. Most reputable brokers offer demo accounts where you can hone your skills and test your strategies without risking real money. This allows you to become familiar with the trading platform, understand market dynamics, and refine your approach. Use the demo account to identify potential pitfalls and fine-tune your trading plan.
Stay Informed and Adapt
The financial markets are dynamic, and staying informed about market trends and economic indicators is crucial for mastering Binary Options. Keep track of relevant news, economic reports, and global events that can impact asset prices. Additionally, be prepared to adapt your trading strategies based on market conditions. Flexibility and continuous learning are essential traits of successful Binary Options traders.
Conclusion
In conclusion, mastering Binary Options is a journey that requires education, careful planning, practice, and adaptability. How to master Binary Options involves a commitment to continuous learning and improvement. By following these five steps – educating yourself, choosing a reputable broker, developing a solid trading plan, practicing with a demo account, and staying informed – you can increase your chances of success in the exciting world of Binary Options trading. Remember, success in Binary Options is not guaranteed, but a well-informed and disciplined approach can significantly enhance your trading experience. How to master Binary Options? Start by mastering the fundamentals and applying them consistently in your trading journey.
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dixieconley · 11 months ago
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How did Obi-Wan not notice the thing with R2D2?? And what if he did?
Obi-Wan: We need to talk about your issues with attachment. Anakin: ::panicking, thinking Obi-Wan's found out about his marriage:: You had a relationship with Satine Kryze! Obi-Wan: … And Ki-Adi-Mundi is married. Jedi can have relationships, Anakin. We've talked about this. Anakin: … I think I would have remembered that.
[Many many past conversations: Obi-Wan: ::lecturing:: Attachment… the code… meditation. Anakin: ::busy tinkering:: Yes, yes, master. Whatever you say, master. Obi-Wan: This is fine. This absolutely will not come back to bite me in the ass later.]
Obi-Wan: Regardless, we need to talk about your attachment issues. Anakin: What issues? You just *said* marriage is okay. Obi-Wan: ::derailed:: What's that about marriage? Anakin: This isn't about me and Padme being married? Obi-Wan: … Obi-Wan: No. Anakin: This is about what I did when my mom died then, isn't it? Obi-Wan: … Anakin: ::getting defensive:: They deserved it! Tuskens are animals. Obi-Wan: ::rubbing his nose:: Anakin. Stop guessing. You're literally making this worse with every word out of your mouth. There happens to be a Tusken Jedi. You've *met* him. Anakin:: ::sheepish:: Oh. So, um, what's this about then? ::finally listening for the first time in the past three years:: Obi-Wan: I came here to talk to you about the salvage operation you ran to rescue R2D2. Anakin: ::puzzled:: Master? You ordered me to go on that mission. Obi-Wan: ::pinching his nose:: Anakin, you do realize that the mission would have been completely unnecessary had you just wiped the droid as per procedure? Anakin: But R2's my buddy. I wouldn't do that to him. Obi-Wan: You got all but two of the men who went with you killed in an attempt to rescue a droid! Anakin: So? I would have done the same for Padme. Or Ahsoka, Obi-Wan: … Obi-Wan: You see no issue in trading sentient lives for an inanimate object. That, Anakin is the very definition of attachment and why you either see a mind healer or go to Jedi jail. Anakin: What? You can't make me see a mind healer! Obi-Wan: You're right. Jedi Jail it is. Anakin: Noooo! I'm gonna tell my good friend the Chancellor on you! Obi-Wan: ::fed-up with everything and feeling both sassy and sarcastic:: Oh, and what's he going to do, order the clones to turn on us and massacre all the Jedi right down to the initiates in the creche? The Force: ::shouting:: YES!!! Obi-Wan:: ::facepalm:: That absolutely came back and bit me in the ass.
Later: Cody: You have a Jedi jail? Obi-Wan: No. Cody: Sir? Obi-Wan: Seemed like a safe bet. ::bitter: He obviously ignored everything else I tried to teach him. Cody: Jedi can marry? Obi-Wan: Yes. Cody: Jedi. As in you. Obi-Wan: As in... Cody: ::suddenly two inches closer:: Obi-Wan: ::squeaking:: Me? Cody: ::smoulders:: Obi-Wan: After the war. Chain of command. Would be inappropriate. Because reasons. Cody: I see.
Two days later: Fox: ::eyeing the assortment of munitions Cody's just laid on his desk, including, but not limited to, slug throwers, thermal detonators, a handful of droid poppers and a rotary cannon:: So you say that the chancellor's a direct threat to the military command of the GAR and that I get to kill him if I agree to mute my external audio pickup and follow your orders? Cody: Yes. Is there a problem? ::looms menacingly:: Fox: ::jumps up:: No takesies backsies! Thorn! Thire! It's Lifeday and Cody's just got us all a present!
~~~
Palps gets wrekt. The Corries have the Best. Day. Ever.
Cody and Obi-Wan swear the riduurok. No one is surprised.
The mind healers ending *building* a Jedi jail just so they don't have to listen to Anakin whine any longer. (R2D2 has the option of joining Anakin. Which, no. C3PO is welcome to that. R2D2 is having none of that shit. Time to head back to his original family -- the handmaidens of Naboo. Who will let him have a little murder. As a treat.)
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starlightdreaming · 8 months ago
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100 FOLLOWER SPECIALL :DD (the voices won.)
Lucifer x Slime! Bunny! Reader! NSFW!!
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!
Content Warning: (SUPER LONG ASS SMUT) Heat cycles, Body worship, Biting, Slime(Everywhere), PredatorNPrey kink(?), Breeding kink, Belly bulge, Dacryphillia, Oral (received) (THE MF EATS U OUT), Overstimulation, Lucifer’s Tail (erm-), BDSM (like all of them? I dunno…), Corruption Kink. (I don’t know what all the kinks are spare ya gal.) (Nothing is proofread either.)
READER BASED OFF MY PERSONA
SO ITS SELF INSERT??? Yeah. I’m down bad for this man, no shame.
Synopsis: You were a maid that worked at Lucifer’s mansion, you were his favorite too! so what happens when you are in one of your heat cycles? >:]
this stories delusions is brought to you by:
(optional but not really recommended)
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You were humming softly as you made breakfast for your majesty. It was a daily routine for you to bring him breakfast to his bed, his usual being pancakes with a touch of cinnamon and apples.
At first when you were accepted to his abode to work, all you did was clean, he never batted an eye at you as you wandered the halls to sweep off dust on every corner of his walls, you didn’t mind it since you got to mind your business all you wanted, no pressure applied, even when you had traded your soul to the king to even have this job, it was all the much better when he didn’t ask of anything from you.
One day, his butler was sick, leaving you to cooking, anyone could have done it but if it wasn’t to the kings liking, they could have lost their jobs- at least what the maids would say. So they threw the task at you, the newbie.
It wasn’t that worrying of a task since you were always cooking for your siblings when you were alive, you always made exquisite dishes for your brothers and sisters to enjoy, oh how you missed those days of making hearty meals for them. So when you had the chance to make something for someone now? You were going all out.
You were thrown into the kitchen by the other maids, you were more excited than bothered by their force, you began making the pancake batter, adding a bit of cinnamon and apples into the mix, you saw your king always wore an apple on his hat so you assumed he liked apples. You made a stack of four fluffy pancakes, adding syrup on it before exploring the kitchen, trying to find fruits and such to add onto the meal to make it more pleasing to enjoy, to eat and to look at.
When you finished, you made him morning coffee, since you didn’t know what his coffee preferences were, you hoped your favorite blend would better suffice than taking a wild guess. You put the meal and drink onto the tray table, leaving the kitchen to walk to your masters room, careful as to not drop the meal you had put your heart and ‘soul’ into. You were so focused into what you were making
Before you entered his room, you knocked, awaiting his “come in.” to enter his room. You saw he sat at his work desk, uninterested to turn and look at you, you weren’t sure what to do next, you never really ever got to see the king this close, nor enter his rooms for that fact. You were just tasked to clean the halls, thats it.
You nervously walk up to his side, putting down the plate and coffee on to his work desk, “Your meal, your majesty.” You bowed, awaiting for him to dismiss you but when he heard your unfamiliar voice, he turned to you, seeing your uniform was covered in pancake mix that had already dried on your maid dress, you smiled at him nervously as he looked at your semi-transparent slime body, “Where is my butler?” he asked, “he’s the one that’s supposed to make me breakfast.” Your heart seemed to chip away, sensing that he might not like the breakfast you made him, he didn’t even look at it, “He is sick, your highness,” you explained, gripping the tray tightly in more nervousness, “I was tasked to make your meals today.” you say, putting up a facade to hide how much you were internally screaming.
“I see,” He says, looking back to his work, “dismissed.” he says as he waved you off, making your heart chip again, you were hoping to see his reaction to how much effort you had just made into the meal but seeing as you’re just a lowly maid in his home, it made sense he didn’t expect much from you.
You left the room without a second glance, not seeing how he had looked at you before looking at the pancakes.
Through the rest of your day, it was all normal. Nothing was reported to you and you weren’t tasked with the rest of the days cooking which made you confirm in your head that maybe he wasn’t satisfied with your cooking skills. It hurt to accept but all that mattered was you got to keep your job at least.
It wasn’t until the next day that whilst you were wiping down windows in the hall, Lucifers personal butler had walked up to you, tasking you again to make the same breakfast you had done the day before, You smiled as you got up and went to the kitchen again, leaving your main duties behind, all your doubts from yesterday vanished as you replicated the meal, going back to his room with a smile, “Your meal, your majesty.” You bowed to him, before putting the meal on his desk once again.
He looked at you this time, making your heart stop for a moment, “Where did you get your cooking skills?” he asked, his attention completely on you, your ears lie back in shyness, “Oh- well, I was self taught.” You say as you held onto the tray, resting it under your fingers, “How come your skills have gone unnoticed?” He says, pulling the plate toward him, grabbing his silverware to cut through the ‘cake to take a bite, you smiled gently as your heart fluttered from joy, “I applied to just clean, there wasn’t any spot open for cooking.” you explained as you swayed side to side in one spot, you couldn’t contain your excitement and joy as he ate your meal, “How about you become one now? Would you like that?” He offered before taking another bite, making you bring the tray to your chest, “really? you mean that?” You smiled, your ears perking as they held up close together as you leaned toward his desk slightly, “of course, why wouldn’t I? You can start anytime you want.” He smiled at you, you jumping in joy, “thank you so much, your majesty! I can make lunch later today! you won’t be disappointed!” You say as you slightly began to run out of his room, forgetting your formality, “oh, uh-“ you realized, before quickly bowing to him and leaving his room, slightly embarrassed.
Ever since that day, you had always made his meals.
Over time, you had slowly made a bond with him, becoming his favorite maid and his favorite chef, it wasn’t long ‘til he made you his personal butler, you waking him up for the day and being at his side almost 24/7 practically.
You didn’t even need to knock anymore as you busted his door open everyday with passion and enthusiasm, “Rise and shine, Lulu!” You would call him, waking him from his slumber, unbothered from how much energy you radiated, he’d sit up as you placed a tray his bed, making your usual for him, he smiled every time you sat on his bed further from him, talking about how your day went or rambled on about your past life on earth, he had found out you ended up killing your parents from how they neglected and abused you and your siblings, you had told your siblings that they left for good, nothing else. It was a surprise to him but it was understandable from your living conditions, he loved just listening to you, day in and day out though, whatever topic it may have been, he wasn’t listening to what you would tell him but more focused on your voice, after six years of this daily routine, it wasn’t long until he would ponder what you would sound underneath him, how you would writhe and whimper to his touch.
He had shook the thoughts at first but the more he saw you in his day to day life, those thoughts always bubbled and spilled out the more he tried to bottle them up, they only got worse when you would be gone for two weeks or so, knowing you as a bunny hybrid, whenever you were having a heat cycle coming or running, your slime would often secrete more off your body, dripping. One time it had gotten so bad, a blob of your slime just went splat on the floor in Lucifer’s room, right in front of him.
You had cleaned it with a bunch of spewed apologies, your face flustered and gaze full of lust, you left the room in a hurry. Leaving Lucifer dumbfounded. To him, that gaze you gave him with lust and tears in your eyes, riled something in him. When you were gone for two weeks after that, his mind was just thinking about that moment and you and only you, those thoughts he tried so hard to brush off were flooding his mind during your absence, he knows he could just go see you and help you and he wanted to do just that more than anything, but he refused to, he didn’t want to take advantage of you in any sort of way, he’d rather fall from the Heavens a million times than ever force his way onto you, you meant too much to him, his heart couldn’t bare how much he loved you.
When you came back from your cycles, you were back with your usual bright, loud and enthusiastic demeanor, your slime body reduced back to normal to being jelly like than melting-ish, and droopy. Whenever you came back, his mind would never settle down, his eyes would always trail at every curve of your body when you weren’t looking, you were so mesmerizing in his eyes, every flaw was a grace of beauty to him, he loved every moment with you, even when you sat and did your own thing while he focused on his work, you just being there was just enough comfort for him to settle down in place and do his job before finishing for the day and spending it with you.
At that point, he saw you as your own person, not just some maid that wandered his ‘castle’. Sometimes when you look at him with doe eyes, he couldn’t help but look away, you had him under such a trance, you didn’t even know how much he was wrapped around your finger. Whenever you wanted or requested something, you’d get it instantly, no questions asked, whenever you smile at something or him, his heart flutters, craving more of that smile, he loved when you praised him, comforted him or was there for whatever reason at all, his stomach always felt butterflies, it was always bad whenever you accidentally brushed touches without you noticing, he craved your touches so much, he always tried to find ways to have contact with you, even if it meant asking you to groom his wings. Worst and best decision of his life.
This man was such a mess for you, he’d even wake up from dirty dreams about you, flustered and flushed, panting heavily as if he sat up quickly in the late nights or early mornings, the tent in his pants were always visible during these dream incidents, it was happening way more then often that when he woke up this morning, he woke up gripping and clawing the bed sheets, his horns and tail displayed as he growls lowly, he was panting heavily as he just began to cry in frustration, it wasn’t long until you busted the door open, making him jump out of his thoughts, “rise and shine- oh! you’re already awake.” you say before realizing he was out in his demon form, he looked away from you, noticing that your body was secreting slime again, knowing what time it was for you, “are you okay? what happened?” You ask with concern closing his door, expecting him to have another rant about his ‘nightmares’ he claims to have, more and more.
You sat his meal in front of him, you sitting close as he kept his gaze away fron you, hoping you didn’t notice the dry tears he tried to wipe away, “Oh, Lulu, are you crying?” You ask, knowing he only avoids your gaze when he doesn’t want you to something. He ignored you when you asked, making you slightly upset he won’t talk to you, you cupped his face, making him turn to you, “look at me, Lulu,” You said softly to him, “was it another nightmare?” you asked, his eyes widened as he blushed lightly from how close you were to him, he nodded quietly, feeling flustered from his thoughts of you, “Oh, Lulu.” You swooned, bringing his face to your chest, holding him lovingly, he only blushed harder as your body produced more, slime was now on his face, your scent not going unnoticed as you smelled like a mixture of sweets.
When you pulled away, you hands still holding his face, you saw your slime was now on his face and you back your hands away from him in shock, “oh my goodness I’m so sorry-“ you said, trying to sit up, only to somehow drop his tray of food onto the ground making you more embarrassed, “Oh- oh my stars, I’ll get something to clean that! I’ll be right back!” You stuttered, leaving the room quickly as Lucifer frog blinked, processing what just happened in the span of ten seconds.
He licked his face clean, forgetting it was your slime and not his food that was all over his face, he honestly expected to gag in distastes but his thoughts immediately ran wild again when he realized how fucking sweet your secretions were, it was one lick after another before his face was clean and he was craving more. Although you were bringing him more breakfast for him to eat, he didn’t want to eat what you had to offer, no. He wanted you. With a snap of his fingers, the mess you left was gone, the lights were off and he was missing from his bed.
You entered the room, cursing yourself under your breath for forgetting what time it was for you, “Lulu, I’m-“ you tried to apologize again, only to see the room was dark and he was gone, “Lulu?” you called for him again, trying to turn on the lights, only for it to not turn on, you put the new tray of food on his nightstand before looking around his room for him, noticing the mess you made was now gone.
“Lulu? Where’d you go?” You asked worriedly, before you felt something drop on your head, it felt like a droplet of water, you looked up to see Lucifer hanging upside down as he stared at you with eyes full of desperation and lust, “L-Lulu?” you asked, a little worry now in your voice as your legs clanged together from the heat in your core, seeing how hot he was upside down, his full demon form out and his tail swaying down towards you left and right.
“Do you know how sweet you taste, my dear?” Lucifer asked, tilting his head, “Wh-what?” You asked a little confused. “Your slime,” he says, jumping down from the ceiling as his eyes glowed in the dark, his eyes glinting like a wolf stalking its prey, you stepped back as he began to walk closer to you, you didn’t even realize you were walking back towards the bed as both of your eyes stayed locked with one another, “The slime you secrete is so fucking delicious,” he growls as he claws the bed with both hands, you in-between him.
Your legs closed together more as you rubbed them together for friction, your maid dress sticking to your slimy skin, you whimpered softly from desperation as he leaned closer to your face, eyes never adverting, “christ, you have no idea what you do to me, dearest.” he whispers, growling under his breath as he tried his best to resist ravishing you then and there.
“What do you mean, Lulu?” You whispered as well, leaning toward his face, lips brushing from the desire and cravings of one another, “I love you, Y/n, so so much,” he confesses desperately, his eyes gazing to your lips before looking back at you, “Please, let me taste you again, please, please.” he begs, leaning more into your touch, when you cupped his face again, you falling back into his bed, an arm keeping you up, “Luci..” You say softly, “I never thought would ever love me.” You confess as well, “Why is that?” He asks, his heart chipping that you think that, “well, I’m a maid, I thought that was all I was going to be.” you say, looking away from him, sadness pooling your eyes as he leaned more into you, “don’t say that, love,” he whisper shouts as he brings a finger under your chin to make you look back at him, “I love you so much, darling, please let me show you that I do.” He begs, your eyes looked into his, his eyes sparkling from genuine, both your heads leaning into to touch as you closed your eyes, “okay..” you smile before you both leaned in to each other, kissing slowly but passionately, he leaned into the kiss more desperately, you leaning into him as well, making the kiss deeper.
You moaned in the kiss, the feelings you hid away for your king, blossoming out your chest. You pulled away panting, breathing for air as Lucifer looks at you dazed, you smile before grabbing his collar with both your hands, bringing him down with you onto the bed, locking lips again but more desperately than the last. You trailed your hands to his hair, wrapping one arm around his neck as you intertwined your fingers into his locks, brushing them. You pulled away again, opening your mouth a gap to let Lucifer have a taste of you, he didn’t hesitate as he stuck his tongue into your cavern, exploring all of your mouth as he tasted you, a growl rumbled from his chest as he desperately kissed you roughly.
You moaned through the make out session as you felt his body push down between your legs, your layers of clothes not giving you the friction you desperately wanted, making you buck your hips up to his body as well, “ffuck- don’t do that, love.” he warned, pulling his lips away from yours as he whined desperately, a trail of saliva connecting you both.
You cupped his face as you brought him back to your lips again, tongues colliding and fighting for dominance, he tucked his hand behind your waist, grabbing the ribbon that kept your dress tight, yanking it harshly, making its ties go undone, making you breathe easily. You moaned again as he tasted your flavors, it was always changing for whatever reason, grape.. raspberry.. strawberry.. It was making him wild that you had tasted so divine all this time without his knowing.
He was getting desperate as he began to grind against your clothed core, you whimpered in desperation as you tried to close your legs with him between them. He pulled away from the kiss, licking his lips as he looked down at your submissive state with lust and desire, “You are so beautiful darling.” He says as wipes his chin with his thumb, licking slime off his wrist as he watched your reaction, you blushed as you looked away, embarrassed.
“You’re so divine.~” He says as he lays on top of you, locking your hands with his, pinning you down as his arms were keeping him up as he kissed your lips, your cheek, down to your neck, nibbling slime secretions before licking them up, off your chest, his kisses were making you writhe under him, squirming in desperation. He couldn’t help but laugh lightly before sucking softly on your jelly skin, slurping up your secretions like jelly candy.
His teasing while in your cycle was sending your body haywire, you needed friction and he was refusing to give you any, “please, please, Luci.” You begged, not knowing what you were really begging for, “Please what, darling?” He asks, moving away from your chest and tilting his head like he wasn’t depriving you of what you desperately wanted, “Please, please fuck me or something- I can’t- can’t take this any longer.” You cried as your body shivered from his touch, a finger trailing down from you neck to your chest, Lucifer scooping up a bit of your discharged slime like icing from a cake, licking his finger as you whimpered under him.
“Alright, I’ll give you what you deserve, dove.” He coo’d, kissing the side of your chin, before trailing down off the bed, his tail swaying side to side desperately as he lifted up your dress, you looked away embarrassed as he did, he sat on the floor as be shoved his head desperately between your legs, you yelped in surprise before you realized he pulled away, you look back at him, seeing your white panties torn against his bare teeth, you blushed furiously as you stared at him. He spat away your panties, discarding them to the floor before he leaned in in-between your legs again, clawing your jelly legs as he lifted then up for him to have more access to your core, you lifted your dress up with one hand, wanting to see what he was doing.
He snaked out his long forked tongue, looking at you teasingly before pushing himself into your core, tasting all of you now, you moaned in sudden pleasure, your body exuding more secretions, “ohh starss Lulu..” You moaned out, making him rile more as he stuck his tongue more deeply in you, tasting you more and more, shameless slurping noises coming from him.
You gripped the bed sheets, bucking your hips more desperately, “more, more luci..” you begged, as he shoved his face as deeply as he could but it wasn’t enough for you. You tried to grip his hair, making him more deeply but you were still desperate, you were bucking your hips into his face, practically face fucking him at that point but it wasn’t until you felt yourself nearing your limit, you then noticed his horns, if grabbing his hair wasn’t enough for you, his horns were.
You gripped his horns making him shiver and moan in surprise before you stroked them and used them against him, grinding yourself against his face as he growled from the sudden grip of yours. “Oh fuck, yes, that’s it Luci…” you moaned louder, making his tongue reach the furthest parts of you, thrusting his tongue in and out if you, “oh, fuck master~ just like that.” You teased, feeling yourself come undone, he clawed your legs harder, his sharp nails sinking into your skin, you moaned more as you rode your high on his tongue, making him lick and taste all your juices.
You panted as you kept using his horns to help you fuck yourself onto his face, “more, more Luci, taste me more!~” you begged as he obeyed, closing his eyes as his chest grumbled out a growl, he loved how sweet you were, body and voice. He couldn’t get enough of your flavor as you begged, he was so thankful he didn’t have nose as you rode his face, letting him taste more of you, he was so dazed by your juices, he kept eating you out like it was his last meal.
He removed one of his hands from your squishy thighs, he didn’t know he punctured your jelly skin as you oozed out more juices from where his sharp nails were, his hand then went to claw you inner thigh, pushing your leg up as he tried to get more access of your addicting flavors. “fuckfuck…” you whined, trying to lift your other leg up but it was held down by his strong grip, “Lucifer~ gonna come again~” you whimpered, as he growled, going more rougher with his tongue, making you lean your head back at you bucked your hips again, coming onto his face again, “ohhh~” you moaned as your body shook from the waves of ecstasy.
“Lucifer, Luci, fuck me please, please, need you ‘nside me.” you whimpered desperately, letting go of his horns as he licked up your juices before pulling away, “fuck you taste so amazing, love.” he says as he got up, his tail wagging again. You desperately latch onto him, sloppily trying to unbutton his shirt, “Luci, need you so bad..” you begged as he smirks, pushing you gently to the bed again, “wait honey bun,” He says, kissing your nose, “let me get you undressed first, okay?” he asks, seeming as he had an idea in mind.
He leaned in to kiss you desperately as you unbuttoned his vest, you then felt his hands trail behind your back, his claws sharpening as he pushed you up to lean on his chest, you began to hear tears and ripping, realizing he was removing your maid dress by shredding it apart, he dug his claws into the dress, ripping it opposite directions before you were completely free from it, you shuddered from the cold that suddenly touched your body as you tried to close your legs again, your core desperate to be filled again.
Lucifer laughed lightly before kissing your nose again before looking at your fully nude body, your jelly colors of purple blue and pink, “You’re so cute, ma chèrie.” He says lustfully under his breath, leaning close to your lips, kissing you gently before you cupped his face, kissing him harder and deeply, passionately and desperately. You grind your hips against his groin making him moan through the kiss, “Y/n, Y/n, calm down my dear.” he says, pulling away. “Need. please Luci…” you begged, making him give in, “I just want to know if you’re sure,” he says as he strokes your cheek, “is this your first time?” he asks, wanting to know what pace he should or could start at, “yes..” you admit, knowing all your life, you focused on your family than ever finding love before you died, especially in Hell now.
“If I hurt you or want me to stop, our safe word is ‘apple’, okay?” he smiles caring and lovingly as you look into his mesmerizing eyes, “okay..” you say with a nod, allowing him to continue and undo his trousers, you looked curiously at his as you felt your body secrete more slime, your core also spilling its own hormonal juices when you saw his length, now understanding where all his height went.
His tail wagged again as he gently wrapped his hands around your waist, teasing your clit as he rubbed his member against it, using your secretions as lube, you whimpered again from the stimulation, “please just put it in Luci, please!” you whined loudly, tired of waiting, “sorry, dearest.” he smiles apologetically, angling himself before pushing himself into you slowly, your body felt waves of pleasure, your sensitivity heightening, “faster, faster, fuck me, fuck me master, please.” You begged, calling him by one of his titles, making him thrust harshly into you, your body was so slimy and gooey, you didn’t need any adjustment, you only just felt waves of pleasure, “oh, yes!~” you shouted, mouth a gap.
You immediately bucked your hips, wrapping your arms around his neck as he claws into your waist, making you shiver more, he thrusted harshly into you, in and out as your slimy juices helped his thrusts, you mewled and moaned loudly, gasping as he kept using your waist to bring you back into him after thrusting out, creating a rhythm of pleasure for both side. You were so noisy you tried to use a pillow to hide your moans but he grabbed it and threw it across the room, “moan my name, darling, scream who you belong to.” He orders, thrusting hard than before as you gripped the sheets, shuddering as you felt yourself getting close again, “Oh! Lucifer! I’m so close!” you screamed as you obeyed his orders, he smirked as leaned down to your neck, “that’s it, almost there.” he says as he kissed your neck, biting down into your neck as you buck your hips into him again, coming all over him as he continued to thrust into you, “good girl.” he praised, your eyes rolling back as you felt your release cover his member as he kept pounding into you.
He sucked on your neck, drinking in your juices after piercing your jelly skin with his fangs, licking and kissing caringly. He kissed you passionately again as you gripped his hair harshly, feeling overstimulated but just craving more at the same time, he growled when you tugged his hair, making him pull away, “i’m close, dearest.” he says, making you wrap your legs around him, locking him in, “inside! inside! want all of you in me! mmmph!~” you screamed and moaned, making Lucifer kiss you again before biting to your neck harshly, thrusting his hips one last time into you deeply, your waist forced down to him, his claws baring into your skin.
You felt himself pour deeply into you, ropes of cum filling you whole, your eyes rolled back with your mouth wide open, your body trembling before he thrusted into you quickly again, shoving more of his fluids into you.
He pulled away from your neck, licking and kissing it lovingly, your skin oozing out more slime, “Fuck, I love you so much.” He pants heavily, keeping himself still as he kissed your body lovingly, he looked at your fucked out state, he smiled rather proudly as he continued to kiss your body, slowly pulling out of you.
You came back from your high, tears forming as you whimpered, your body feeling sore but your core still craving more, “Luci~” you say as you turn your body, your ass in the air for him now, his cum was dripping out of you as he watched you wiggle your ass, “fuck, Y/n..” He says as he felt himself get hard again, “you’re gonna be the death of me.” He tells you, pushing you further into the bed, climbing up onto it as well. He scooped up some of his cum that was spilling out before thrusting back into you, thrusting harshly again as you moaned loudly, he pinned your wrists down as he kissed your back, your sensitive body was shaking terribly but it was the most heavenly feeling of your entire existence.
“Yes, breed me Luci,” You begged as tears stained your face, making him thrust down into you, “knock me up… carry your children..~” you slurred, mind fucked from overstimulation and pleasure, you lost count of how many times you came but Lucifer was still going at it, your stomach bulged slightly from each deep thrust he did, you laid there limply as he bottomed out into you for the second time.
He pulled out as he flopped and fell to your side, his hair disheveled and your slime was practically all over the bed, He turned to you, “are you okay, honey bun?” He asks, seeing you still lost in your high, he kissed you softly before getting the pillow from the floor he threw earlier and putting it back on his bed, using it to lay back on, he closed his eyes as he sighed, only to open then widely when you jumped on top of him, “Luci, we aren’t done yet.~” you giggle, completely lost in pleasure, craving more, “Oh? still want more?” He smirked at you, trying to reach for your hips again only for them to be pinned above his head by you, “I get to have you my way now.” you smile darkly and lustfully, rubbing against him before sliding him into you, you leaned forward, your animal instincts of desperation made you hips smash down onto his member at an inhuman speed, “oh- fuck- wait! hah- slow down darling please-“ He begged before you kissed him, ignoring his plea.
He tried to struggle out of your grasp as you thrusted harshly into him, only making you push onto his chest, “this is for all the teasing, Luci, take it like you deserve it.” You glared at him as an order, “Please, you’re going to fast, if you keep this up, i’m gonna go insane.” he warned, you rolled your eyes as you ignored him again, “you can take it, Lulu.” you comfort as you kiss his cheek before kissing him passionately, tasting each other once again.
“mmmhhh, fuck, Y/n..” Lucifer moaned under his breath as you forced yourself onto him, seeming as he hasn’t said the safe word: he was enjoying this. You focused your strength on thrusting yourself into him, feeling him slide into your gooey insides quickly, “Fuck, take it, take all my cum, darling!” he says as he bucks his hips into you once more, deeply as he releases into you once again as you moaned softly, your exhaustion now kicking in.
You laid limp on Lucifer as you wiped your tears from sheer pleasure, tired and satisfied, “I’m sorry, Y/n,” Lucifer says as you felt something wrap around your waist, “just one more, okay, one more please, wanna make sure you’re knocked up, okay baby?” He says as his tail moved you up and down on his still hardened member, you whined in exhaustion but still let him to use your body for his pleasure, how could you say no to a desperate face like that?
He kissed you again, making out with you softly as he used his tail to thrust your tired body against his, pleased by how you whimpered in overstimulation, his cum was leaking out of you like crazy but it was all the more for him to give you last of his load before calling it for the day, his tail was slicked with your slime, sometimes when it picked you up, you’d slip from its grasp and fall straight down into him, making you moan and tremble, he only kept repeating this process, enjoying every whimper he could writhe out of you.
He kissed your tears away as he continued to make you ride him, he smiled at you lovingly as you shivered at every touch, noticing your tummy was slightly round from how much he had filled you, “gonna come again, okay?” He says as she whines, “fffu- ffuhhh..” you tried to speak, blissed out completely. He thrusted harshly a few times before his tail kept you in place, taking in his last load, making you feel tremble in pleasure. He kissed your chest, neck and face lovingly, his tail helping you move off him and next to him on his bed, he took the covers and placed them on you, rubbing your back, softly, watching you drift to sleep, his demon form going away.
He was going to give you all the aftercare you needed when you wake up, for now he wanted you to rest, seeing as that looked more important to you currently.
✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧
Bonus:
“Hey, Y/n, did you know you taste like jolly ranchers?” Lucifer asked.
“I do?” You say, licking your arm for a taste test, “Oh shit, I do.”
✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧
the voices the fucking voices.
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novaursa · 2 months ago
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The Dragon's Right (4)
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-Summary: It was by grace of the gods that firstborn child of Viserys I and Aemma was born a boy and he lived. And all of the rest, scholars will later say, is by power of something more malevolent in kind.
- Paring: male!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen
- Note: For all the parts and more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.
- Rating: Mature 16+
- Word count: 9 000+
- Previous part: 3
- Next part: 5
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff
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As you and Rhaenyra entered the chambers of the small council, the weight of responsibility settled heavily upon your shoulders. The grandeur of the room, with its high ceilings and long table, was a sharp reminder of the power that was wielded within these walls—a power that you were now expected to share in. The members of the council, deep in discussion, turned their heads in unison to acknowledge your arrival, their eyes lingering on the empty seat that had been yours before you left for the Dornish borders.
King Viserys, seated at the head of the table, looked up with a mixture of relief and warmth as he saw you and Rhaenyra. "Come, my son," he urged, his voice filled with paternal pride. "Take your seat. It has been empty for far too long."
You nodded respectfully and moved to the vacant chair, the council members shifting slightly to make space for you at the table. Rhaenyra, meanwhile, stepped aside with a small, playful smile, taking over the duties of the cupbearer from the young boy who had been serving in her stead. The boy handed over the jug of wine with a shy bow, and Rhaenyra took it with practiced grace, moving around the table to refill the goblets of the council members.
As you settled into your seat, the familiarity of the room began to return to you—the polished wood of the table, the maps and documents spread out before you, the faces of the men who had advised your father for years. It felt both comforting and burdensome, this return to the heart of Targaryen power.
Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Master of Ships, wasted no time in redirecting the conversation back to the pressing matters at hand. "Your Grace," he began, his deep voice commanding attention, "we must return to the issue of the Stepstones. The Triarchy grows bolder by the day, and their control over the shipping lanes threatens our trade and the security of our allies. We cannot afford to sit idle."
Viserys sighed heavily, clearly weary of this particular topic. "I understand the gravity of the situation, Corlys," he replied, his tone patient but firm. "But entering into a war with the Free Cities is not a decision to be taken lightly. The consequences could be disastrous for the realm. I will not risk open conflict without exhausting every other option first."
You listened carefully, understanding your father's concerns, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something needed to be done. The reports from the Stepstones had been troubling, and you knew that inaction could be just as dangerous as a full-scale war.
"Father," you interjected gently, your tone respectful but earnest, "I understand your hesitation, but we cannot ignore the threat the Triarchy poses. If we allow them to solidify their hold on the Stepstones, it could embolden them further. We must act, even if it’s not to declare war outright."
Rhaenyra, who had been quietly filling goblets, paused in her duties and spoke up, her voice confident. "Perhaps we don’t need to send the entire fleet, Father. What if we sent dragonriders? Syrax and Silverwing could turn the tide, send a message that we will not tolerate this incursion."
Corlys nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful. "The princess makes a valid point, Your Grace. The sight of dragons in the skies over the Stepstones could be enough to dissuade the Triarchy without the need for a full-scale engagement. It would show our strength without committing us to a costly war."
But Viserys shook his head, his expression tightening with concern. "No. I will not send my children into danger—not again. You have just returned, Y/N, and I will not see you thrown into another conflict. And Rhaenyra… I won’t risk you either. The dragons are our greatest asset, but they are not tools to be used lightly."
You opened your mouth to protest, the words on the tip of your tongue, but Viserys cut you off with a wave of his hand. "I appreciate your counsel, but my decision is final. The matter of the Stepstones requires further consideration, and I will not commit to a course of action that could lead us into a wider war."
A tense silence settled over the room, the frustration palpable among the council members. Rhaenyra’s face had fallen slightly, her enthusiasm for the idea dampened by your father’s refusal. You could see the disappointment in her eyes, a reflection of your own feelings. The suggestion had been sound, and it was clear that both of you felt a strong desire to contribute to the defense of the realm, but Viserys’s protective instincts were overriding all other considerations.
Sensing the growing tension, Otto Hightower, ever the diplomat, cleared his throat and spoke up. "Your Grace, perhaps there is another matter that the princess could attend to, one that does not involve the dangers of war. Several knights have arrived in the capital not just for the tourney, but to present themselves as candidates for the Kingsguard. A new member must be selected to replace the late Ser Ryam Redwyne. Perhaps the princess could oversee the selection process."
Viserys seemed to grasp at this suggestion as a way to defuse the situation. "Yes," he agreed, his tone firm. "That is a more fitting task for you, Rhaenyra. The Kingsguard is a vital institution, and your judgment will be invaluable in choosing the right man for the position."
Rhaenyra glanced at you, her expression a mix of disappointment and resignation. You met her gaze with a sympathetic look, understanding how much she had wanted to be involved in the more pressing matters of the realm. But you both knew that this was how things often went in the small council—difficult decisions were made, and sometimes, the right course of action wasn’t always the one taken.
With a small nod, Rhaenyra accepted the task given to her. "Of course, Father," she said, her voice steady despite the slight tension in it. "I will see to it."
Otto and Lord Lyonel Strong stood, ready to accompany Rhaenyra to the courtyard where the knights were likely gathering. As she turned to leave, you caught her eye once more, offering her a small, reassuring smile. She returned it, though there was a flicker of frustration in her gaze, a silent acknowledgment that the lords had effectively maneuvered her out of the more important discussions.
Once the three of them had exited the chamber, the door closing softly behind them, Viserys turned back to you, his expression softening. "I know you want to help, Y/N," he said quietly, his tone more paternal than kingly now. "And I know you’ve proven yourself in battle, but you’ve just returned. I have no intention of sending you off to fight in another skirmish so soon."
You looked at your father, the concern in his eyes evident. He was speaking not just as a king but as a father who had already lost too much. "Father," you began carefully, "I understand your concern, but the realm faces real threats. We cannot afford to hesitate, not when our enemies are moving against us."
Viserys sighed, running a hand through his hair, his expression weary. "I know. But the weight of the crown is heavy, and I must balance the needs of the realm with the safety of my family. You are my heir, Y/N, and I will not risk losing you—not when there are other options we can explore first."
The room fell into a contemplative silence, the tension of the earlier discussion still lingering in the air. You wanted to push further, to convince him that decisive action was necessary, but the look in his eyes stopped you. Viserys was a man who had already faced too many losses, and the thought of losing you—or Rhaenyra—was something he simply couldn’t bear.
"I will continue to weigh our options," Viserys said finally, his voice resolute. "But for now, we will not rush into a conflict. Let us see how the situation develops, and we will respond as needed."
You nodded, though your mind was still restless. The council’s discussions had left much unresolved, and you knew that the challenges facing the realm would only grow in the days to come. But for now, you would respect your father’s wishes, even as you kept your own thoughts and strategies close to your chest.
Grand Maester Mellos cleared his throat, signaling that he had something to say. The council members turned their attention to him, the discussions of strategy and diplomacy momentarily paused. Mellos’s expression was serious, his tone measured as he spoke.
"Your Grace," Mellos began, addressing King Viserys, "while the matters of the Stepstones and the Free Cities are indeed pressing, there is another issue that demands our attention—one that is much closer to home. I am speaking, of course, about Prince Daemon and his continued… activities within the city."
Viserys’s face tightened at the mention of his brother. The strained relationship between the two was well known, and Daemon’s methods of enforcing his own brand of justice had been a source of tension for some time now. The King had hoped that his brother’s appointment as Commander of the City Watch would temper his more reckless tendencies, but it seemed that hope had been in vain.
"What has he done now?" Viserys asked, his voice tinged with both weariness and frustration.
Mellos exchanged a glance with Tyland Lannister before continuing. "The Gold Cloaks, under Prince Daemon’s command, have become a force unto themselves. While there is no denying that they have brought a certain level of order to the city, their methods are… extreme. Reports have reached us of public executions, floggings, and other harsh punishments meted out with little regard for the law."
Tyland leaned forward, his expression stern. "Your Grace, Daemon’s actions are causing unrest among the smallfolk. His form of justice is seen by many as tyrannical, and there are whispers that he is using the Gold Cloaks to consolidate power in the city. If this continues, it could lead to greater instability, not just in King’s Landing, but throughout the realm."
You listened in silence, your mind working through the implications of this news. Daemon had always been a wildcard—brilliant in battle, fiercely loyal to his family, but also unpredictable and dangerously ambitious. His actions as Commander of the City Watch were just another example of his tendency to push boundaries, to challenge the status quo.
Viserys rubbed his temples, clearly troubled. "I had hoped that giving Daemon responsibility would curb his more… destructive impulses. But it seems he’s taken it as a license to do as he pleases."
"Your Grace," you interjected gently, "perhaps a direct conversation with Daemon is needed. He respects you more than anyone, and he may listen if you make it clear that his actions are causing harm."
Viserys sighed, nodding slightly. "Yes, you’re right, Y/N. I’ll speak with him. But I fear that even I may not be able to fully control him. Daemon has always marched to the beat of his own drum."
The discussion continued, with the council debating how best to handle Daemon’s increasingly volatile presence in the city. Some, like Tyland, advocated for more direct intervention, possibly even removing Daemon from his position, while others, like Lord Lyman Beesbury, suggested a more diplomatic approach, hoping to rein in Daemon’s excesses without causing a rift within the royal family.
As the council deliberated, the scene shifted to the courtyard of the Red Keep, where Rhaenyra stood with Ser Harrold Westerling, Otto Hightower, and Lord Lyonel Strong. Before her, a line of knights stood at attention, each hoping to be chosen as the newest member of the Kingsguard. Rhaenyra’s expression was one of quiet determination, though there was a hint of disappointment in her eyes as she listened to the introductions.
One by one, the knights were presented to her. Ser Harrold described their accomplishments—victories in tourneys, noble lineage, and years of service to their respective lords. But as Rhaenyra listened, her disappointment grew. These men, for all their noble backgrounds and polished armor, had little in the way of real combat experience. Their greatest achievements seemed to be catching poachers and excelling in jousts. None of them had faced true battle, the kind that forged a knight’s mettle.
She turned to Otto, her frustration clear. "These men have titles and tourney victories, but none of them have faced real danger. How can I trust them to protect my father and our family when they’ve never been tested?"
Otto, ever the pragmatist, offered a placating smile. "Your Grace, the Kingsguard is as much about the alliances it brings as it is about the skill of the knights. A knight with noble blood and strong connections to other houses could strengthen the crown’s position. Battle experience is valuable, but so are the ties that bind our allies to us."
Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed slightly, her dissatisfaction evident. She understood the politics behind the selection of the Kingsguard, but she was not willing to compromise on something as important as the safety of her family. "What good are alliances if the men sworn to protect us fall at the first sign of real danger?"
Before Otto could respond, Ser Harrold spoke up, his voice respectful but firm. "Your Grace, there is one more knight to present—Ser Criston Cole of House Cole."
Rhaenyra’s interest piqued at the mention of a new name. She turned her attention to the last knight in the line, a man who, unlike the others, bore no signs of wealth or nobility in his appearance. Ser Criston Cole stepped forward, his armor simple but well-maintained, his face weathered and serious. There was a quiet confidence about him, a sense of purpose that set him apart from the others.
"And what experience do you have, Ser Criston?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone curious but guarded.
Criston bowed slightly before speaking. "Your Grace, I have served in battle, fighting under the command of Prince Y/N against the Dornish incursions. I’ve faced enemies in the field, not just in tourneys. I’ve held the line in the heat of battle and know what it means to protect those under my care."
Rhaenyra’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of your name. This was the first knight she had heard of who had actual combat experience, and under your command, no less. It gave him a legitimacy that the other knights lacked.
"You fought under my brother’s banner?" Rhaenyra asked, her interest clearly piqued.
Criston nodded, his expression respectful. "Yes, Your Grace. Prince Y/N led us with honor and strength. He was an inspiration on the battlefield, and I did my best to serve him and the realm to the best of my ability."
Rhaenyra exchanged a glance with Ser Harrold, who nodded approvingly. This was the kind of knight she had been hoping to find—someone with real experience, someone who had proven himself in the crucible of battle.
"I choose Ser Criston Cole," Rhaenyra declared, her voice firm. "He is the only one among them who has faced true combat and proven his worth."
Otto’s expression tightened, his displeasure evident. "Your Grace, while Ser Criston’s experience is commendable, it’s important to consider the broader implications. A knight with noble blood could bring valuable alliances to the crown. Ser Criston, while skilled, lacks the connections that could strengthen our position."
Rhaenyra met Otto’s gaze with determination. "What value are connections if they cannot protect us? Ser Criston has fought under my brother’s banner, and I trust my brother’s judgment. I stand by my decision."
Otto opened his mouth to argue further, but Rhaenyra’s tone left no room for debate. Lord Lyonel Strong, sensing the tension, subtly placed a hand on Otto’s arm, urging him to let the matter rest.
"Very well, Your Grace," Otto conceded, though it was clear he was not pleased. "Ser Criston will be appointed to the Kingsguard."
Rhaenyra nodded, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as she turned back to Ser Criston. "You have my trust, Ser Criston. Serve my father and this realm well."
Criston bowed deeply, his expression one of solemn gratitude. "I swear to protect the king and his family with my life, Your Grace."
As the selection was finalized, Rhaenyra felt a sense of accomplishment. She had asserted her judgment and chosen a knight she believed could truly protect her family. But as she turned to leave, escorted by Ser Harrold, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment—knowing that this task, though important, had been a way for the lords to remove her from the more pressing discussions of the realm.
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The days following your return to King’s Landing had begun to take on a semblance of routine. The excitement and pageantry of your homecoming had started to fade, replaced by the day-to-day responsibilities that came with being the heir to the Iron Throne. While the court’s initial frenzy of attention had diminished, you still felt the weight of expectation pressing on your shoulders—a burden you had come to know all too well during your time away.
This particular afternoon found you in your father’s chambers, a place that had become a refuge for King Viserys in recent years. The room was dominated by the massive model of Old Valyria that your father had been painstakingly working on for what seemed like forever. The sprawling, intricate creation covered most of the table space, with towers, bridges, and spires crafted with a meticulous eye for detail. 
Viserys was seated on a stool, carefully adjusting a small tower with a steady hand. You stood nearby, observing the model with a mixture of admiration and quiet concern. Your father’s obsession with this model had grown in tandem with the challenges of ruling the realm, and you wondered if he found solace in building something that, unlike the realm, he could control completely.
The conversation had started out light, filled with the usual topics—news from the Reach, the latest reports on trade, and the progress of the model. But as the minutes passed, you noticed a subtle change in your father’s demeanor. His hands, usually steady and sure when working on the model, seemed more deliberate, almost hesitant. There was a tension in his shoulders, a tightness around his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
You frowned slightly, studying him more closely. It wasn’t uncommon for Viserys to lose himself in his thoughts while working, but today there was something different, something unresolved hovering between you.
"Father," you began, your tone careful, "I can see something’s troubling you. What’s on your mind?"
Viserys paused, his hand hovering over the model, and for a moment, you thought he might not answer. But then he let out a long, weary sigh and set the piece down carefully before turning to face you. His expression was conflicted, a mixture of frustration and worry, as if he had been wrestling with something that he hadn’t yet found the courage to voice.
"It’s the council," Viserys finally admitted, his voice low, almost resigned. "They’ve been pressing me on a matter that I’ve been… reluctant to address."
You raised an eyebrow, sensing the gravity of what he was about to say. "And what matter is that?"
Viserys hesitated again, rubbing the back of his neck—a gesture you recognized as a sign of his discomfort. "They’ve been urging me to remarry. They believe it would strengthen the realm, secure new alliances, and ensure that our house remains strong." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "But it’s not just that. They’ve also been pressing me to find matches for you and Rhaenyra."
The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. The idea of your father remarrying wasn’t entirely unexpected—politically, it made sense, and you knew the council was always looking for ways to solidify the crown’s position. But hearing him admit it aloud, and then to include you and Rhaenyra in the same breath, caught you off guard.
Viserys continued, clearly trying to gauge your reaction. "They may be right," he said quietly, though his tone was far from certain. "You’ve been away for years, often in skirmishes and battles. If something were to happen to you…"
He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. You could see the unspoken fear in his eyes—the fear of losing you, just as he had lost Aemma, just as he had lost others. It was a fear that had haunted him for years, and now, with you finally home, it seemed to have taken on a new urgency.
Viserys placed his face in his hands, his fingers pressing against his temples as if trying to push the thoughts away. "You should marry, Y/N. You should have children. It’s what’s expected of you, and it’s what will secure our house’s position."
You felt a surge of frustration, the words stinging more than you cared to admit. "I’ve only just returned, Father," you replied, trying to keep your tone measured. "I’ve spent years away, doing my duty to the realm. And now that I’m finally home, you want to talk about marriage and heirs?"
Viserys looked up at you, his expression one of weary resolve. "I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s something you must consider. You’re the heir to the Iron Throne, Y/N. Your duty doesn’t end with battle. It extends to the future of our house, to the legacy you will leave behind."
You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to process what he was saying. You understood the importance of your position, of course—you had been raised to understand it from the moment you could walk. But the thought of being thrust into marriage and fatherhood so soon after returning home felt overwhelming, as if the expectations of the realm were suffocating you before you’d even had a chance to breathe.
"And what of Rhaenyra?" you asked, shifting the conversation slightly. "She will hate this when she hears it."
Viserys’s face softened, a look of genuine concern crossing his features. "I know," he admitted, his voice heavy with the weight of his own doubts. "And I’m even more terrified to bring this subject up with her. Rhaenyra has always been strong-willed, and she’s never been one to accept her fate without a fight."
You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite the tension in the room. "That’s an understatement," you said, the image of Rhaenyra’s fiery spirit flashing through your mind. "She’ll have more than a few things to say about this."
Viserys allowed himself a small, weary smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "She’s my daughter, and I love her dearly, but this is something she must face, just as you must. The future of our House depends on it."
You leaned against the edge of the table, folding your arms across your chest as you considered his words. The future of the house—those were heavy words, words that carried the weight of centuries, of dragons, of kings and queens who had fought and bled to keep the Targaryen name alive. But they were also words that had driven you away, into battlefields and borderlands where you could escape the suffocating pressure of the throne, if only for a little while.
"I understand, Father," you said finally, your voice quiet but steady. "But I need time. I’ve just come back, and I need time to find my footing again, to figure out what my place here is."
Viserys nodded, his expression softening as he saw the conflict in your eyes. "Take the time you need, Y/N. But don’t forget that time is a luxury we don’t always have. The realm will not wait forever."
You nodded in return, knowing that he was right. The realm, the throne, the legacy of House Targaryen—they were all forces that moved with or without your consent, and sooner or later, you would have to face them head-on.
But for now, at least, you would take the time you needed to adjust to being home, to reconnect with Rhaenyra and your father, and to figure out what the future might hold—not just for you, but for the entire Targaryen legacy.
As you left your father’s chambers, the weight of his words still heavy on your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder how Rhaenyra would react when she heard about the council’s pressure to find matches for the both of you. Knowing your sister, it would be a conversation filled with fire and defiance, and you would have to navigate it carefully.
But that was a problem for another day. For now, you would focus on the present, on the here and now, and on the family you had fought so hard to return to. The future could wait—at least for a little while.
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The gardens of the Red Keep were a haven of tranquility amidst the bustle of King’s Landing, a place where the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze offered a brief respite from the weight of courtly duties. Rhaenyra and Alicent often found solace here, escaping to the quiet paths and shaded alcoves where they could be themselves, free from the expectations that came with their titles.
This afternoon, the two friends strolled along a cobblestone path lined with vibrant roses, their conversation light and filled with laughter. The sunlight filtered through the leaves above, casting dappled patterns on the ground as they moved deeper into the gardens. It was a rare moment of peace, one that both young women cherished in the midst of the growing pressures that surrounded them.
Alicent, ever the gentle and thoughtful companion, was telling Rhaenyra a story she had overheard from one of the maids about a particularly clumsy lord who had nearly tripped over his own feet during a dance at court. The tale had them both giggling, their spirits lightened by the absurdity of it all.
As the laughter began to fade, Alicent glanced at Rhaenyra with a playful glint in her eye, her voice taking on a teasing tone. "So, Rhaenyra, do you think your brother will ever find himself a lady as graceful as Silverwing to keep him company?"
Rhaenyra, who had been reaching out to touch a delicate flower, paused mid-motion, the question catching her off guard. She turned to Alicent, her brow furrowing slightly. "Why would you joke about that, Alicent? Y/N isn’t even considering taking a wife right now. As far as I know, Silverwing is the only lady in his life."
Alicent noticed the slight edge in her friend’s voice and hesitated, her own smile faltering. She hadn’t meant to strike a nerve, but Rhaenyra’s reaction had been stronger than expected. "I didn’t mean to upset you, Rhaenyra," Alicent said softly, her tone apologetic. "I was only teasing. But… would it be so terrible for your brother to find himself a match?"
Rhaenyra’s initial irritation bubbled over into a snort, her gaze flicking away from Alicent as she tried to deflect the question. "What does it matter if he finds a match or not? He has more important things to think about than marriage, and so do I."
But even as she spoke, Rhaenyra felt the sting of the memory from six days ago, after she and her brother had raced their dragons. The moment when they had tumbled together on the ground, laughing until the laughter had died away and something far more intense had filled the space between them. The almost kiss that had haunted her every night since, replaying in her mind, tormenting her more than she was willing to admit even to herself.
The fact that her brother had never brought it up again—had acted as though nothing had happened—only added to her frustration. Did it mean nothing to him? Or was he just as conflicted as she was, choosing to bury the memory rather than confront it? The thought made her chest tighten with an emotion she couldn’t quite name, one that made her both angry and confused.
Alicent, watching Rhaenyra closely, could sense the turmoil beneath her friend’s words, even if she didn’t fully understand its source. "Rhaenyra," she began gently, trying to ease the tension she felt growing between them, "I didn’t mean to upset you. I just… I worry about you, and about him. You’re both under so much pressure, and I only want to see you happy."
Rhaenyra forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "We’re fine, Alicent. Truly. There’s no need to worry about us."
But Alicent wasn’t easily dissuaded. She hesitated for a moment, then asked tentatively, "Has your brother ever talked to you about… about whether he’s interested in anyone? About what he might want in a companion?"
Rhaenyra’s smile faded entirely, replaced by a flicker of irritation. The last thing she wanted was to discuss her brother’s potential romantic interests, especially when her own feelings were so conflicted. "I don’t want to talk about Y/N anymore," she said firmly, her tone brooking no argument.
Alicent blinked in surprise, taken aback by the sudden shift in Rhaenyra’s demeanor. "Of course," she said quickly, her voice soft and conciliatory. "I’m sorry, Rhaenyra. I didn’t mean to pry."
Rhaenyra sighed, her irritation beginning to ebb away as she saw the look of concern on Alicent’s face. She knew her friend meant well, but the topic was too fraught, too complicated for her to discuss, even with someone as close as Alicent. "It’s not your fault," she admitted, her tone softer now. "There are just… things I don’t want to think about right now."
Alicent nodded, understanding that some topics were better left alone. She reached out and gently squeezed Rhaenyra’s hand, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "Then we won’t talk about it anymore. Let’s just enjoy the gardens and forget about everything else, even if it’s just for a little while."
Rhaenyra returned the smile, grateful for the change of subject. "Yes, let’s."
The two friends continued their walk through the gardens, the earlier tension slowly dissipating as they moved on to lighter topics—memories of their childhood, amusing stories from the court, and plans for the upcoming festivals. But even as Rhaenyra laughed and talked, her mind kept drifting back to her brother, to the unspoken tension that had been simmering between them since that day in the Dragonpit.
She couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Was he as troubled by what had happened as she was? Or had he simply chosen to bury it, to pretend it never happened, as he seemed to be doing? The thought of him being so unaffected by it made her chest ache, though she wasn’t sure if it was from hurt or anger.
As the afternoon wore on, Rhaenyra found herself growing more and more restless, her thoughts in turmoil. She knew she would have to confront these feelings eventually, but for now, she pushed them down, determined to enjoy the time with Alicent, to hold on to the simplicity of their friendship, even as the complexities of her emotions threatened to overwhelm her.
And though she didn’t voice it, the thought of her brother finding a match, of him being with someone else, brought a twist of something dark and unwelcome in her heart—something she wasn’t ready to name or confront just yet.
For now, she would let it lie, unresolved and unspoken, just as he seemed to be doing. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t stay buried forever.
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The evening was quiet in your chambers, the only sound the soft scrape of cloth against steel as you carefully cleaned your ancestral sword, Blackfyre. The blade gleamed in the flickering candlelight, its edge sharp and true, a testament to the craftsmanship that had forged it and to the many battles it had seen. The sword had been by your side through countless skirmishes, a symbol of the legacy you carried and the duty that weighed heavily upon your shoulders.
As you moved the cloth over the blade, your thoughts drifted, as they so often did, to the burdens that came with being the heir to the Iron Throne. The expectations, the responsibilities, the constant need to prove yourself—it was a weight you had carried for as long as you could remember. And now, with the council’s pressure to find a match and secure the future of House Targaryen, that weight felt heavier than ever.
But there was something else, something that lingered at the edges of your mind, refusing to be pushed aside. It was the memory of that day with Rhaenyra in the Dragonpit, the moment when laughter had turned to something else entirely, something that neither of you had spoken of since. You tried to push it away, to bury it deep within yourself, but it kept resurfacing at the strangest times, like now, as you sat alone in your chambers.
With a frustrated sigh, you set the sword down on the table, running a hand through your hair as you tried to clear your mind. But the memory persisted, and with it came a flood of emotions that you struggled to contain. You knew you couldn’t afford to dwell on it, not with everything else that demanded your attention, but it was easier said than done.
In an effort to distract yourself, your thoughts drifted back to a different time, to a memory that had been both terrifying and transformative—one that had shaped you in ways you were only now beginning to understand.
You were seven years old, and your family had traveled to Dragonstone for a short stay. It was a place of ancient power and beauty, a fortress carved from the volcanic rock of the island, with the ever-present sea crashing against its shores. You had always been drawn to the wildness of the place, to the sense of freedom that came with being so close to the elements.
On that particular day, you had managed to slip away from your mother and your three-year-old sister, Rhaenyra. It wasn’t the first time you had wandered off on your own, and it wouldn’t be the last. Even at that young age, you had a restless spirit, always eager to explore, to push the boundaries of what was expected of you.
You had made your way down to the shores, where the black rocks jutted out into the sea like the teeth of some great beast. The waves were fierce that day, the wind whipping at your hair as you scrambled over the rocks, feeling invincible in the way that only a child can. The sea was both a challenge and a companion, its roar filling your ears as you ventured further along the rocky shore.
But then, in an instant, everything changed. Your foot slipped on a slick patch of rock, and before you knew it, you were tumbling down, down into the cold, unforgiving embrace of the sea. The waves, so beautiful and exhilarating from the safety of the shore, now became your enemy, pulling you deeper into the current, dragging you away from the land.
You struggled, panic flooding your young mind as the water closed over your head. You kicked and flailed, but the sea was stronger, relentless in its pull. Salt water filled your mouth and lungs as you gasped for air that wasn’t there. The world above, the sky, the cliffs, everything began to fade as the dark, cold water claimed you.
In that moment, you thought you were going to die. The terror of it was overwhelming, the realization that you were utterly powerless against the force of the sea. You could feel yourself sinking, your small body growing weaker as the blackness closed in around you.
But then, just as the last of your strength was ebbing away, a shadow passed over you. You didn’t see it at first, your vision blurred by the water and the darkness, but you felt it—the rush of water displaced by something massive moving through the sea.
And then, with a suddenness that took your breath away (what little breath you had left), you were lifted from the water, the force of it almost knocking you unconscious. But instead of the crushing weight of the sea, you felt the cool, leathery skin of something far larger than you could comprehend.
It was Silverwing.
She had come for you, your bond with her stronger even than the pull of the sea. You felt her claws wrap around you, not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to pull you free of the water’s grasp. She soared upward, her great wings beating against the air as she lifted you out of the depths and into the open sky.
The cold air hit your face, shocking your senses back to life as Silverwing flew over the beach and deposited you onto the shore. You hit the ground hard, the impact jarring your lungs and sending a rush of salt water spewing from your mouth. Silverwing nudged you with her massive head, her breath hot and insistent as she pushed you, rolled you over and over on the beach until you vomited up the seawater that had clogged your lungs.
You were coughing, sputtering, but alive, the blackness retreating as you drew in deep, desperate breaths of air. Your body was trembling, soaked to the bone, but the warmth of Silverwing’s presence beside you, her protective nudges, kept you grounded.
And then, through the fog of your disoriented mind, you heard voices—frantic, terrified voices, calling your name.
Your father, Viserys, was the first to reach you, his face pale with fear as he knelt beside you, his hands shaking as he checked you over. "Gods, Y/N," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "What were you thinking? What were you doing?"
Before you could answer, your mother, Aemma, rushed forward, tears streaming down her face as she dropped to her knees beside you. She pulled you into her arms, holding you so tightly that it almost hurt, her sobs shaking her entire body.
"Y/N… my baby," she cried, her voice breaking with relief and anguish. "You’re alive… you’re alive…"
You were too shocked, too overwhelmed to say anything, your small body trembling as you clung to your mother. The terror of what had just happened still lingered in your mind, the memory of the cold, dark water threatening to pull you back under. But the warmth of your mother’s embrace, the sound of her voice, and the presence of your family around you began to soothe the fear.
Ser Harrold Westerling and the rest of the Kingsguard arrived moments later, their armor clanking as they surrounded you, their faces a mixture of relief and concern. But all you could focus on was the way your mother held you, her hands gently stroking your hair, her voice murmuring reassurances as if to convince herself that you were really there, really safe.
Viserys, his own hands still trembling, placed a hand on Silverwing’s massive head, his voice filled with gratitude. "Thank the gods for you, Silverwing," he said softly. "You saved my son… you saved him."
Silverwing, for her part, let out a low, rumbling purr, her eyes fixed on you as if she understood exactly what had just happened. She had always been more than just a dragon to you—she was your protector, your companion, your bondmate in ways that went beyond simple words. In that moment, you knew that you would be connected to her for life, that the bond between you was forged in something far deeper than mere loyalty.
Aemma pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face hovering inches from yours as she searched your eyes, her own filled with a mixture of relief and lingering fear. "Don’t you ever… ever do that again," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t…"
You nodded weakly, too exhausted to speak, but you understood. The fear in her voice, the desperation in her eyes—it was the same fear that had gripped you when you were under the water, the same fear that had almost consumed you. But now, held close in your mother’s arms, surrounded by your family and the warmth of Silverwing’s presence, you knew that you were safe.
The memory of that day had stayed with you, a reminder of both the fragility of life and the strength of the bonds that held you to those you loved. It was a day that had shaped you in ways you hadn’t fully understood at the time, but now, as you sat in your chambers, polishing your sword and reflecting on the past, you began to see it more clearly.
The fear you had felt that day, the desperation, the longing for safety—it was something you carried with you still. But it was also balanced by the strength of your connection with Silverwing, with your family, with the responsibilities that had been placed on your shoulders. You had faced death and survived, and you had done so with the help of those who loved you.
As you set the sword aside, the memory of that day lingered in your mind, a reminder of how far you had come since then. You were no longer that frightened child, lost in the waves, but a man who had faced many battles and had come through them stronger.
But even so, there were still battles to be fought, both on the field and within your own heart.
The memory of that fateful day on Dragonstone still lingered in your mind, a haunting echo of a time when life had been simpler, when the weight of the world hadn’t yet settled on your shoulders. You let out a slow breath, your thoughts tangled between the past and the present, when suddenly the door to your chambers swung open with a force that startled you out of your reverie.
Without so much as a knock or a word from the guards outside, your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, strode into the room with his characteristic swagger. He moved with the confidence of a man who had little regard for protocol or propriety, his presence filling the chamber with an almost palpable energy. Daemon had always been like that—a force of nature, impossible to ignore and equally impossible to fully understand.
You couldn’t help but smile, amused by his entrance, as you watched him cross the room without hesitation. Daemon didn’t bother with pleasantries or explanations; he simply took the seat opposite you, stretching out with a casual ease as if this were his own chambers and not yours. His sharp eyes flicked over you, taking in your posture and the expression on your face, and you could tell he was sizing you up, as he often did.
"Brooding again, are we?" Daemon’s voice was laced with that familiar mix of sarcasm and genuine curiosity, his words half a jest and half a challenge.
You shook your head, still smiling as you met his gaze. "Just feeling contemplative this evening, Uncle."
Daemon snorted, a sound that was half-amused, half-derisive. "Contemplative? Sounds like any other evening for you, then."
You chuckled softly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Perhaps. But it’s harder than I thought, just sitting here, doing nothing. I’m not used to it."
Daemon nodded, a knowing glint in his eye. "Aye, I know the feeling well. The silence can be deafening when you’re accustomed to action." He leaned forward slightly, his tone turning conspiratorial. "Tell you what, nephew—why don’t we take a little trip into the city? Just the two of us, Targaryen princes lost to anonymity in the Streets of Silk. Could do you some good, get your mind off whatever’s plaguing you."
You looked up at Daemon, considering the offer. There was a certain appeal to the idea—escaping the confines of the Red Keep, losing yourself in the bustling, chaotic streets of King’s Landing where no one knew your name or cared about your title. It was a temptation you had indulged in before, though not as often as Daemon.
But tonight… tonight, something held you back. Perhaps it was the weight of the thoughts that had been troubling you, or perhaps it was the sense that this evening needed to be one of reflection rather than distraction.
You sighed and shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "I think I’ll have to decline this time, Uncle."
Daemon rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips curled into a wry smile. "Ah, as usual then. You’re acting like a prude, Y/N." There was no real malice in his words, just the familiar teasing that had defined much of your relationship with him.
You couldn’t help but jest in return. "And you’re acting like a scoundrel, as usual."
Daemon laughed, a short, sharp bark of sound that filled the room. "That’s the spirit!" He leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with mischief, but there was something else there too—something more serious, lurking beneath the surface.
The laughter faded, and a more comfortable silence settled between you. It was a silence born of years of shared experiences, of battles fought side by side, and of the unspoken understanding that came with being part of the same powerful, often tumultuous family.
After a moment, you decided to steer the conversation away from the city and toward something that had been on your mind. "Shouldn’t you be with your wife in the Vale, Uncle? I’d imagine the Lady Rhea might be missing you."
Daemon’s expression darkened at the mention of his wife, and he scoffed dismissively. "My place is here, Y/N. By my brother’s side, and yours, for that matter. My ‘Bronze Bitch’ can wait. The Vale has no need of me, and I have no desire to return to that dreary place."
You knew better than to press him further on the matter of his marriage. Daemon’s disdain for Lady Rhea Royce was no secret, and it was a topic that never failed to put him in a foul mood. So you let it drop, focusing instead on the bond you shared as members of House Targaryen.
The silence stretched on for a while longer, the flickering light of the candles casting long shadows across the room. Daemon’s demeanor shifted, and you could tell he was weighing his words carefully, something that was rare for him.
When he finally spoke, his tone was serious, devoid of the usual sarcasm and bravado. "Listen to me, nephew," he said quietly, leaning forward once more. "If you don’t take matters into your own hands, they’ll do to you what they’ve done to me. They’ll marry you off to some woman of their choosing, bind you to a fate not of your making. The lords and the council—they’re vultures, all of them. They’ll pick at your bones if you let them."
You met his gaze, the weight of his words sinking in. Daemon’s warning was not without merit. You had seen how the council operated, how they maneuvered and manipulated to achieve their ends. And while you had always tried to walk the line between duty and personal freedom, there was no denying that your position as the heir to the Iron Throne made you a target for their schemes.
You nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his warning. "I know, Uncle. I know."
Daemon studied you for a moment longer, as if trying to gauge whether his words had truly sunk in. Then, with a sigh, he pushed himself up from the chair, his usual nonchalance returning as he headed toward the door. "If you change your mind about the city, you know where to find me," he said over his shoulder, his tone lighter now.
You watched him go, a mixture of gratitude and resignation settling in your chest. Daemon had always been a paradox—fiercely loyal to his family, yet constantly challenging the boundaries set by that same family. His advice, though often wrapped in cynicism and rebellion, came from a place of experience and hard-earned wisdom.
As the door closed behind him, the silence of your chambers returned, more profound now after Daemon’s departure. You sat there for a long moment, the weight of his words echoing in your mind, along with the memories and thoughts that had been troubling you all evening.
You knew that decisions would have to be made, that the future of House Targaryen rested on your shoulders in more ways than one. But for now, you let yourself sit in the quiet, contemplating the path that lay ahead, knowing that whatever choices you made, they would have to be yours and yours alone.
And as the candlelight flickered and the shadows danced across the walls, you couldn’t help but feel the pull of destiny, the ever-present weight of the dragon’s legacy, urging you forward into a future that was as uncertain as it was inevitable.
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The corridors of the Red Keep were quiet as the night deepened, the usual bustle of the court replaced by the stillness that only came with the late hour. The tower of the Hand, where Lord Otto Hightower resided, was dimly lit by flickering torches, their light casting long, wavering shadows along the stone walls. Alicent Hightower moved through the halls with a sense of trepidation, her steps hesitant as she approached her father’s chambers.
She knew this conversation was inevitable. Her father had been pressuring her for weeks now, urging her to secure the attention of Prince Y/N, to make herself indispensable in the eyes of the Targaryen heir. But despite her efforts, the prince remained distant, polite but uninterested in anything more than the friendship she shared with his sister, Rhaenyra.
As Alicent reached the door to her father’s study, she paused, taking a deep breath before knocking softly. A moment later, Otto’s voice called from within, stern and unmistakable.
“Enter.”
Alicent pushed the door open and stepped inside, the warmth of the room hitting her as she crossed the threshold. The study was lined with shelves of books and scrolls, the accumulated knowledge of a lifetime spent in service to the crown. Otto Hightower stood by the window, his back to her as he looked out over the darkened city. The atmosphere in the room was tense, and Alicent could feel her father’s displeasure even before he turned to face her.
“Alicent,” Otto began, his voice cold and sharp. “I’m disappointed in you.”
The words cut deeper than any blade, and Alicent’s heart sank. She had always sought to please her father, to earn his approval, but tonight, it seemed she had failed once again. She clasped her hands in front of her, her fingers twisting nervously as she tried to find the right words.
“Father,” she said softly, “I’ve tried. I’ve done everything you asked of me. But the prince… he doesn’t seem to be interested in me.”
Otto turned away from the window, his expression hard and unforgiving. “And why is that, Alicent? Why does he remain indifferent to you when you’ve had every opportunity to make an impression?”
Alicent bit her lip, her eyes dropping to the floor. She didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know what more she could do to capture the prince’s attention. She had tried to be charming, to be kind, to show herself as a worthy companion. But Y/N was always distant, always polite but never more than that.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know what else I can do. He seems… distracted, preoccupied with other things.”
Otto’s eyes narrowed, his displeasure growing. “Other things? Other things? Alicent, you are not some ordinary lady of the court. You are the daughter of the Hand of the King, and it is your duty to secure the future of our house. If the prince is distracted, then it is your job to make him see that you are what he needs, what he cannot live without.”
Alicent felt a lump forming in her throat, the weight of her father’s expectations pressing down on her. She had always known that her position in court came with responsibilities, but the reality of it—the cold, calculated nature of her father’s plans—was something she struggled to accept.
“But Father,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “how can I force him to feel something he doesn’t? I’ve tried to be everything you’ve asked, but… he doesn’t see me that way.”
Otto’s expression hardened further, his patience wearing thin. He crossed the room to stand before her, his gaze piercing. “Then you must try harder, Alicent. You must be more than just a friend to his sister, more than just a kind face at court. You must make him see that you are the answer to the pressures he faces, the companion he needs to navigate the treacherous waters of this court.”
Alicent’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back, determined not to show weakness in front of her father. She wanted to protest, to say that it wasn’t fair, that she shouldn’t have to manipulate someone’s feelings in this way. But she knew it would be pointless. Otto Hightower was a man who valued results, not excuses, and his ambitions for their family left no room for sentimentality.
“I understand, Father,” she said quietly, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I’ll do better. I’ll find a way to make him see me.”
Otto’s expression softened, but only slightly. He placed a hand on her shoulder, a gesture that was more commanding than comforting. “Good. Remember, Alicent, the future of our house depends on you. Do not let anything stand in the way of that.”
Alicent nodded, though her heart ached with the weight of his words. She knew what was expected of her, knew the stakes involved. But as she turned to leave, the coldness of the task ahead filled her with a sense of dread. How could she make the prince see her, when all she wanted was to be seen for who she truly was, not for the role her father had assigned her?
As she left the tower and made her way back to her chambers, Alicent couldn’t shake the feeling that she was losing herself in her father’s ambitions, that each step she took toward securing Y/N’s favor was a step away from the person she wanted to be.
But what choice did she have? In the world of the court, where every move was scrutinized and every action had consequences, she knew that failure was not an option. She would have to find a way to win the prince’s attention, to secure her place in his life, no matter the cost.
And as she lay down that night, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of her father’s words pressed down on her like a suffocating blanket, leaving her with a sense of foreboding that she couldn’t quite shake.
221 notes · View notes
pookietv · 6 months ago
Text
online embarrassment | arthurtv
this was a req!! and i think its adorable
there will be a part two to this !!!
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being a simple university student, you had simple pleasures - getting drunk on the weekend, binge watching tv shows, and a more strange one, online chess. you liked watching people play, you liked playing yourself, you loved the strategy aspect. on some websites you played on, there was the option of livestreaming your chess game - no faces or voices, but people could chat alongside you playing, and you enjoyed seeing input on your games.
one day you were playing a particularly tricky game, being forked from practically the get go, and being the victim of many pawn trades, you were definitely on a losing streak, even if you were just playing against a bot. it was being streamed, but there were only four people watching, not that embarrassing right? especially because it was hidden behind a chess username and no one knew who you were anyways, so it didn't really matter.
so when a comment came in,
ATV: i wouldn't have played rook to f4 there, leaves an opening for a three move check :)
your head tilted a little, turning back to the game and furrowing your eyebrows, trying to figure what they had meant - and they were right, the move was a little careless and it could lead to checkmate.
you nodded to yourself, trying to amend the damage by playing your bishop defensively, to which another comment came in.
ATV: sorry for backseat gaming here, but you could have check in two
you smiled a little more at the comment, placing one hand on your chin and the other on your mouse, following some moves for what must have been fourty-five seconds before you clicked, they were right again. you made the move, the bot making its response, defending also, before in a few short moves, the game was over, you had won by check.
youruser: @/ATV thank you! i still kinda suck after playing for so long lmao
ATV: @/youruser do you want a game? :)
youruser: @/ATV sure! i'll add you now :P
so you added them, and they requested a game. in the chatbox on the side, you saw another message just as they had moved their first piece.
ATV: so what's your name?
youruser: i'm y/n, what about you?
ATV: arthur :)
he moved with an unusual polish opening, so you played traditional and tried to take control of the centre. within a few minutes, he had one of your pawns pinned, and had taken another.
youruser: damn you're actually really good
youruser: feeling a little defeated here :)
ATV: i'm just a loser with far too much time on my hands
youruser: well i mean me too but still, you're smoking me
ATV: cause you're playing too much attack not enough defence
youruser: i feel i may need you to tutor me lmao
ATV: lets finish up this game rq and then i'll help lol
unsurprisingly, he won, but you actually came closer than expecting, and it was a pretty even match after the poor beginning.
ATV: you're actually pretty good, you were just being modest
youruser: hm well maybe
youruser: suppose i'll have to keep challenging you til i win >:D
ATV: do you have discord or anything? easier to explain and talk on there rather than chess in game chat lol
youruser: i do! i'll link it rq :)
youruser: it's yourdiscuser #1782
and from there, you began talking semi-regularly, you played chess often and spoke tactics and games, he helped teach you and you enjoyed the company.
youruser: isn't it really strange we know nothing about each other other then chess defence strategies
youruser: i mean what if you're the insane chess killer man
ATV: yes, thats exactly who i am, the Insane Chess Killer Man, can't believe you caught me red handed
ATV: i mean what do you wanna know
youruser: i mean, idk,,, where are you from? i mean i know you speak english but you could be from anywhere i guess :O
ATV: i live in england, what about you :)
youruser: me too! i'm in london atm for uni, getting my masters
ATV: i am also in london! so if you're getting your masters, you're like ... somewhere around 24?
youruser: yeah, i'm 23 :P
youruser: what about you? i mean i have a feeling you're not some sixty year old man based on the fact you use discord but idk
ATV: i'm 28,,, getting very old :(
youruser: wow, very old indeed, must be such a shame
youruser: its gonna suck when i'm gonna have to visit you in a nursing home to play chess with you in two years time
ATV: okay i'm not that old you divvy :)
youruser: kidding, kidding ! anyway, i have to go because i have class but,, if you maybe wanna add me on instagram, its @/youruser :)
getting back from your lectures and practically throwing your backpack on the floor and collapsing on your bed, you planned on rotting the rest of the day away in pajamas and consuming far too much social media.
you opened instagram to a new follower: @/arthurtv
you assumed it was arthur from chess, and obviously in curiosity you opened his page straight away, you were nosy and you wanted to know who he was.
the first thing that shocked you was what he looked like: you didn't know what you were expecting but you didn't think it was going to be him.
he was... attractive, you had to admit, and your eyes had widened once you had seen him.
the second thing that shocked you was his followers, and his bio - he was a youtuber?
classically, you had to be nosy and follow the links to his youtube, your eyebrows raised a little as you looked at his channel, giggling to yourself, he did commentary on reality tv? you hadn't seen that before, but once you watched a video, you realised he was funny, too. he made it funny, despite the fact that you had at first felt it was the strangest youtube topic ever.
youruser: why hello arthurtv
youruser: i was definitely not expecting you
arthurtv: why hello y/n
arthurtv: i could say the same about you
youruser: well i mean i don't have any surprises
youruser: but you are apparently known for commenting on 90 day fiance?
arthurtv: i'd argue you have some surprises
arthurtv: and yes, i make commentary videos! wasn't trying to hide it or anything, just was a weird thing to bring up in conversation :)
youruser: no, it seems cool! i wasn't judging :) i don't watch much youtube so i don't know too much about it
youruser: and anyways, what surprises do i have?
arthurtv: i wasn't expecting you to look like that i suppose
youruser: like what ??
arthurtv: i mean, i don't know, pretty i suppose
arthurtv: you're very pretty, i just didn't know what i was expecting to be honest
youruser: wow you thought i couldn't be pretty cause i'm a loser playing chess??? smh arthur
youruser: (i'm kidding, i didn't expect you to look like you either)
arthurtv: you know that's not what i meant!!
arthurtv: what did you expect me to look like then?
youruser: well since you're 28, i suppose i was expecting a zimmerframe or walking stick or something
arthurtv: ha ha very funny
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lumosinlove · 3 months ago
Text
Write Me In
Part Four
Leo was surprised that he slept at all, but when he woke up the next morning, the light was bright through the gauzy curtains and he sat up feeling like he was forgetting something. It was a trade off he’d learned to deal with. Either his insomnia kept him up all night, or he crashed hard and woke up wondering if he’d been asleep for a week. Or maybe it was just this place. He’d left a window open and the smell of the ocean was so heavenly that Leo nearly fell back into his pillows and basked in it. Until he remembered. Then he fell back into his pillows and tried to figure out what had happened last night, and what might be waiting for him out there.
He listened.
Guitar. Soft, beautiful guitar.
Maybe it had even been what had woken him. That, or the smell of coffee. Leo had seen about five different ways of making coffee in that kitchen and he tried to calm himself by seeing if he could figure out what they were using. It was probably impossible—it was just coffee—but he tried anyway. French press. Espresso. Stove top. Coffee machine, like the one Finn had forgone all of the fancier equipment for back in New York. Maybe he preferred it. What did Logan prefer?
They had wanted to be with him last night. Even worse, Leo had wanted to be with them last night. He could have been waking up in that master bedroom he’d caught a glimpse of. Logan and Finn’s suitcases both disasters on the floor. Now, the bed would be unmade. Had they stayed up late by the fire or followed Leo inside soon after? Leo had forced himself not to listen. He’d counted sheep. He’d counted waves down below. He’d counted his own breaths and heartbeats and all but forced himself to sleep so he wouldn’t count the ways that conversation could have gone or how that night could have ended.
And now Finn O’Hara was playing guitar in the main room—it was Finn. Logan picked it up sometimes but he wasn’t as nimble with it as Finn. So, maybe Logan was making coffee. Or it was only Finn awake with coffee and music and Logan was sleeping in as usual. He clicked on his phone. Eight-thirty. If Logan had his choice, he would still be sleeping. Leo tried to fight the twinge that came with the warm feeling that he knew that.
Leo forced himself to get up. He went to the bathroom, ran wet fingers through his hair, and looked at himself in the mirror. This tedious, nervous feeling didn’t reflect in his face. He looked rested and like he’d gotten some sun. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and regarded himself. He didn’t workout much. He liked the classes he went to with Cassie. He was usually the only guy, but he didn’t mind. They laughed as much as they worked but Leo always left drenched in sweat so he figured it was worth it. He looked like he’d always looked to himself. Maybe not as defined as Finn and Logan with their drumming and back-stage push ups, but he’d always been tall and lean.
He went to his suitcase and looked at his options. They’d walk into town today? They’d go to Logan’s nice restaurant? Would they swim and he’d change before dinner?
Were they going to send him home after he’d refused them? He needed to write.
Finn’s voice, muffled, filtered to him through the door, and Logan’s replied. So, they were both up. At the thought that they were waiting on him, Leo threw on a pair of light wash jeans—cool enough, he supposed—and a white t-shirt.
Everything you want, then Logan had said. Leo ran his hands through his hair again and closed his eyes. He wanted quite a bit, and none of it had to do with clothes.
He opened his door slowly and the guitar got louder without the wood blocking it. Leo paused, trying to recognize the song.
“—open doors,” Logan was saying. “And…hm. And open doors…”
“And admit that we won,” Finn replied, talking in a meter that wasn’t quite singing. “Begun, won. Not quite a perfect rhyme, but that’s…”
“Non, that’s good. I like that. When you sing it, it’s a perfect one.”
Leo’s heart picked up.
They were writing a song.
He was tempted to stay hidden and listen, but that felt like a betrayal somehow. Rude. This was private.
Finn began to sing, actually sing, if not a little quietly for Leo’s benefit, just as Leo rounded the corner.
“We tried to fight it off with—oh, hey.” Finn was looking at him, a hesitant sort of smile on his face. “Hi, hi, good morning.”
“Hi,” Leo said.
There was a pause. An obvious one. One that made Leo panic, just a little. Finn’s eyes were a soft, worried brown and Leo didn’t know what to do with that. Logan saved him.
“Salut,” Logan said. He was standing by the stove in a white linen shirt that was unbuttoned halfway down his chest and holding a stovetop espresso pot. He looked so tan against the white shirt, his hair wet and curlier than usual—from a swim in the ocean? It was pushed back from his face like Leo had seen it that first day at their apartment in New York. Leo glanced back at Finn, who was already looking at him. The expression on his face seemed to say I know, right?
Logan held up the silver pot and Leo made himself study that instead. It looked well-loved. Stained, the metal changed from the heat.
“Coffee?” Logan asked.
“Yes,” Leo said. “Yeah, please.”
“Did you sleep okay?” Finn asked.
“Was everything—” Logan began to ask, then registered what Finn said. “Oh, ouais, yeah, did you…yeah.”
Finn laughed and gave him a helpless sort of shrug and it made Leo relax a little. They didn’t seem upset. Or like they wanted him gone. They seemed nervous, too.
“I did,” Leo said. “Sleeping with the window open and hearing the waves is so great.”
“I know,” Finn said. “Soothing.”
“I put a little bit of sugar,” Logan said. He nudged an espresso cup across the counter. “Because it’s good.”
“How much is a ‘little bit’ of sugar in your world?” Leo asked—Because it seemed like it might crack some of this worry between them, brittle and crystalized as sugar itself.
Logan’s smile proved him right. “I guessed at what your 'little bit’ would be.” Logan tilted his head. “I think I did good.”
Logan wanted to take them into town for breakfast. Leo wondered if the same car was going to come and pick them up, but it turned out Logan had other plans. He led them through a door—Leo honestly, at this point, wasn’t even going to try to map the house. It sprawled in directions he couldn’t even clock. This time they ended up in a garage that had two cars covered in crisp white sheets.
“Pick a color,” Logan said. “Yellow or green.”
“Oh my God,” Finn said. “Logan.”
Logan just smiled and shrugged. “Yellow or green, Leo?"
“Green,” Leo said instantly and Finn gave him a smile.
Logan strode forward, took hold of the closer sheet, and yanked it off in one flourish. Beneath it sat a pristine, gleaming Porsche. It was an older model, vintage looking with a low roof and a bumper that looked like a smile. It’s velvety dark green color was sleek and spotless.
“Wow,” Leo said faintly. “I mean, yes. The obvious choice for a ride to breakfast.”
Finn laughed loudly and it echoed in the room. “I know, right?”
Logan took a pair of keys off of the wall and tossed the other to Finn. “You’re yellow, Coeur.”
Leo blinked and saw a flash of Finn’s lips on Logan’s skin last night. Logan had just called Finn heart.
It was perfect. He and Logan zipped along narrow, cliffside roads in their green car with the bright racer yellow of Finn’s behind them. Besides the colors, they were a perfect match. Leo felt like he was in a movie with the engine in his ears. They couldn’t talk over the roar, not to mention the wind. Logan rolled all the windows down—literally. The card had cranks not buttons. The salty wind whipped at their hair and Leo knew that he might look insane when he got out of the car, but he didn’t care, not with Logan’s strong hands to study. He had one easy on the steering wheel, and dropped the other periodically to change gears. It was a little like the way he drummed. Just a different sort of rhythm.
They didn’t speak until Logan had to slow down because they’d entered a small town. A market was in full swing and everyone seemed to know Logan’s cars—and Logan himself. He waved out the window at two small kids as he pulled into a parking spot. They were jumping up and down and each holding a peach that was dripping down their arms.
Oh, Leo wanted to shop here. He clicked his seatbelt off and looked at Logan.
“Hi,” Logan said. “Fun?”
Leo nodded. “Fun.”
As they walked around, it became clear to Leo that he was going to have to add an entire section to his article that was just about Logan being here. Even his body moved differently. Leo and Finn walked a few paces behind him as he was greeted by nearly every vendor. They all exchanged kisses on both cheeks. Leo sort of wanted to see Logan kiss Finn on both cheeks.
“Beautiful, right?” Finn leaned over and whispered to him. He was in a white t-shirt like Leo’s, and soft looking blue shorts. Exactly which part of the scene in front of them he was referring to, Leo didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. His yes applied to all of it.
Leo was about to buy a few of the peaches he’d seen the kids holding when Logan appeared at his side and dropped coins onto the vendor’s table.
Before Leo could even protest, Logan was guiding him away with a hand on his back and holding something out to him in a flat palm. It was a small pastry nestled in parchment. It looked lemony, or maybe it was an almond paste. On top were two perfect raspberries.
“It’s the best thing you’ll ever eat,” Logan said in French. “I promise.”
“Big promise,” Leo said.
Logan laughed. “It’s true. I dream of them. I could write a song about them.”
“Oh,” Leo said. “Well, in that case.” He picked up the square sweet and took a bite. He’d been right about the almond. It was a sweet, nutty burst in his mouth beside the raspberries. The pastry felt like a thousand thin layers of crisp and butter. Leo closed his eyes and nodded. “Ouais. Yeah, it’s perfect.”
When he opened his eyes again, Logan was still there, gazing up at him with a bright, satisfied grin.
“Let’s get another,” Leo said.
“They sell out fast,” Logan said. “This was their last.”
“Did you get one?”
Logan shrugged. “I wanted you to try it.”
Leo frowned at the half pastry remaining at his hand.
“It’s okay,” Logan said. “We’ll come back tomorrow.”
But Leo held out the other half. “Non. Tu en rêves.”
It was maybe one of the best parts of being here, seeing Logan’s face when he spoke French to him.
“You like it,” Logan said. “I can tell.”
Leo mimicked Logan’s shrug. “We’ll come back tomorrow.”
Logan bit the inside of his cheek, then smiled. Eyes on Leo, he leaned forward and took the rest of the pastry between his teeth right from Leo’s fingertips. Leo hadn’t been expecting that. He could feel color rise to his cheeks as sure as he felt the sun on his neck.
“Just like you remember?” Leo asked to try and draw attention away from his red face. It came in a double force, though, when Logan raised up a thumb and brushed a crumb from the corner of Leo’s mouth.
“Better,” Logan said. The French word’s soft double L sound gorgeous in his mouth.
Leo self consciously touched where Logan had touched his mouth. He sort of wanted him to do it again.
“Will you write about this?” Logan asked. “I hope you write about this.”
“Our week’s almost up,” Leo said. “Pretty good finale, I’d say.”
Logan’s face fell.
“Mais…the week we agreed on maybe,” Logan said softly. “Or that was agreed on. By others who didn’t know that we…”
Logan dropped his gaze and Leo was right back in last night, the heat of the fire on his face. Finn and Logan’s open expressions and hopeful eyes. Leo glanced around for Finn and found him talking animatedly to a man at a stall of books. Finn O’Hara, Leo thought. He didn’t look like the rock star, or the heart throb, or the dream talk show guest. He was this sweet boy trying his best to meet that man halfway with bad French and hand gestures. Who got called heart by his boyfriend, who had a boyfriend, who wanted Leo’s voice to help them tell the world about each other.
“Would you…” Logan huffed. He looked around and then took Leo by the hand and tugged him towards an old set of narrow steps in the shade of a sweet smelling tree. Leo let him maneuver them into sitting, squeezed next to each other.
Logan fixed him with his bright green eyes. “Would you want to stay?” Logan asked. “You just got here.”
“You…You want me to extend the story?”
“I want you to stay.”
There was a whole landslide of other halves to that sentence. Leo couldn’t have guessed at a single one.
Leo smiled a little. “You know, I didn’t think you liked me when we first met.”
“No one thinks I like them when we first meet.”
The paper bag of peaches was cool on his lap. Logan had a bag, too, and when he caught Leo looking at it, he uncurled the top. Croissants, chocolate and plain.
“I was nervous,” Logan said. “It wasn’t that I didn’t like you. I was worried about the story. Mostly, I was worried you wouldn’t like us.”
“You didn’t even know me.”
“I knew you in the way you knew us,” Logan said. “Through your writing. Non, we don’t know-knoweach other, but we know each other. You can’t write without some truth. Can you?”
He had him there. “That’s true. No, that’s true. Okay…”
“Leo,” Logan said more seriously. He pushed their thighs together harder where they were already touching. “Will you stay? Only if you want to, of course, but…please. We want you to stay.”
God, did he want to. He wanted months of whatever this was. Whatever they were dancing around—because it was something. God, it was something. Leo didn’t sleep much but he had already dreamed about it. He just wished there was a way to tell them that he wouldn’t say it first. He couldn’t say it first. Right now, he was in charge of the most important story of their careers. If something soured—and Leo knew better than most how quickly things could sour—he didn’t want any more tangles than necessary. They had each other. They already had each other.
“I’ve told you how much you’ve meant to me,” Leo began. “And for how long.”
Logan nodded.
“And I’ve told you that you’ve helped me through some bad people and experiences.”
“Ouais. But we got interrupted.”
“We did, yeah. Yeah…” Leo sighed. “Well, the bottom line is, you’re not the first, um…”
“Le sujet,” Logan offered, then winced.
“Subject. Sure. You’re not the first subject who’s wanted to…” There was no better way to say it, honestly. “Sleep with me. That is what was happening last night, wasn’t it?”
“First, we would have wanted to kiss you.”
They both looked up just as Finn sat down, sitting sideways on the step below them so they had to lift let their legs go over his. When he smiled and pushed his sunglasses up on his head, he was Finn O’Hara for a second. It looked like a Vogue cover shoot. And then he tipped Leo’s bag to poke inside and he was Finn again.
Kiss you. He’d surely walked into some far-fetched dream of his own making. But, no, there they were. They were both touching him somehow. Knee against knee. Finn’s knuckles kept brushing his ankle. It was comforting.
“You wanted it to go somewhere last night,” Leo repeated. “Kiss, more…but that’s what was going on. I’m not wrong?”
“You’re right,” Logan said. He was blushing. Sweating a little, pushing his hair back. The market was loud and oblivious around them, and Leo wasn’t sure why this conversation was happening here, but it was.
“We didn’t just want to sleep with you,” Logan said.
“Okay…” Leo shook his head and looked at Finn. “The kissing your boyfriend in front of me didn’t really give me any clues farther than fucking.”
“Yeah…” Finn was rubbing at one of his eyes. “I think maybe we’re a little rusty on the flirting side of things.”
“There is no way your flirting is rusty,” Leo said, laughing a little. “Believe me, I think I’d know. I’ve been watching you for a week, you flirt with everyone.”
“No,” Finn said. “Nu-uh. I make everyone think I’m flirting with them. I make whole crowds think I’m flirting with them.” He turned to face Leo. “I flirt…or try to…with you.”
“We weren’t just trying to—” Logan looked horrified. “Là, what, quoi, have sex then goodbye?”
Finn dropped his forehead on Leo’s knee. “We were trying…” He looked up at Logan. “We should have just asked him out to dinner, like, obviously!”
“I did ask him to dinner!” “No, like, ask-ask. That’s not the same thing!”
“Okay,” Leo held up a hand, heart wildly trying to beat against his ribs. Everything inside of him hurt. He couldn’t tell if this was real or not. Mostly, he couldn’t see the infatuation. The short lived lust. Not here. With Finn and Logan, he just couldn’t tell. They both seemed—well, a little nervous, actually. Leo didn’t think he’d seen them so flustered. Ever.
“My job is to make the people I’m writing about feel comfortable,” Leo said. “And it’s been mistaken for attraction before. That’s just…” Leo held up a hand. “I’m just putting that down.”
“You weren’t just making us feel comfortable,” Finn said firmly. “Do you know how many journalists we’ve been around? God, so many and a lot of them are awful. They call my brother behind my back hoping to get some dirt or jealousy. I’ll turn around and they’ve opened one of my fucking notebooks. Leo, you are so different, you are so…” Finn looked at Logan for a moment. “I’ve loved your writing for so long. I read it to Logan, even your pieces from that blog you used to run.”
Leo flushed. “Oh—oh my God, what?”
His blog. When he’d been desperately trying to get clips to big magazines. Finn O’Hara—Read it to—
“You slipped right into us,” Finn said. “You’re gorgeous and you’re so smart and articulate…I think I could talk to you for hours. Nothing felt like an interview, you felt like we’d known you forever.”
“Forever,” Logan agreed.
Leo wanted to shake them. “Finn, that’s my job. I’m really fucking good at my job.”
“Yeah, but how often do you forget you’re doing you’re job because you’re happy, too?” Finn fired back, but then his eyes softened. He put a hand on Leo’s knee. “You felt it, too. You can’t tell me I’m wrong about that.”
“Yes, I—” Leo closed his eyes briefly. “Yes. Yes, of course I did. I did.”
He really could have talked to them forever. Sometimes he’d even forgotten there was a show to perform when they’d been laughing and talking in their dressing room beforehand. He could have listened to them forever. Logan’s little French mumbles. The way he closed his eyes when he practiced a song. They way his fingers drummed on every surface—they were twitching on Leo’s other knee now. The songs Finn sang around hotel rooms and apartments—not his own songs. His favorite songs. Leo wanted to know all of Finn’s favorite songs and why. They way they watched him cook. The way they showed their appreciation. The way they kissed each other. He wanted to brush his teeth beside them and crawl into bed and talk after turning the lights off until they were too tired. What a fantasy.
“Look,” Leo said. “I’m not just protecting myself here. Do I think you’re both—God, so gorgeous I can’t breathe, and sweet, and funny, and talented, yes. But I thought that even before I knew you. I’m trying to separate my skills from myself for your sake, and I’m trying to separate your stardom and your selves for my sake. And yours. Guys, you don’t want someone who wants you because you’re famous.”
“You don’t,” Finn said. “I know what that looks like.”
“We both do,” Logan said.
“I—okay. Of course you would know. But even still.” Leo sighed, heart heavier by the moment. He didn’t know if he was wrong here or if they were just good at trying to prove him wrong. “You have each other. You are asking me to write about your love for the first time in public and that’s a big deal. You two are going to get so much attention, it’s insane. And you’re telling me you like me, and you feel something for me, but there is going to be literally zero room for me when not only does your album come out, but this article. If you even still want me then.”
Leo was so out of breath it made his heart pound and stars appear at the edges of his visions. Those last words had come out a whisper. He’d said it, though. All of it. He’d needed the words and the words had been right there for him to arrange. Even more, Leo and Finn were both completely silent, completely still, and listening.
“I’ve been the thing that someone keeps in the dark before,” Leo said, keeping his eyes down. He felt Logan’s hand tighten on his knee. “Literally. He wouldn’t even keep the lights on when we kissed.”
Logan’s other hand appeared. Or Finn’s? They were all but holding whatever part of him they could reach now. Leo couldn’t push them away. Maybe right now he could explain to them why he thought he should be saying no, but he didn’t want them to let go.
“Am I very attracted to you both? Yes. Was it very hard to say no last night?” Leo’s laugh was half groan. “God, yes. But am I going to be kept in any sort of darkness ever again?” Leo swallowed hard, throat tight, and shook his head. “No. I’m…I’m sorry, but no.”
No sooner had Leo finished that sentence than did one of the little kids that had been practically hanging off of Logan’s body earlier launch itself over Finn’s legs and straight into Logan’s lap. She started talking a mile a minute—even Leo couldn’t quite keep up. Logan just stared. He held the little girl, nodding, smiling, but in a daze. Leo didn’t know if Finn knew his hand was on Leo’s calf, tightening and loosening, maybe as he tried to think what to do. What to say.
Leo was just beginning to suspect maybe he had said too much when the girl’s mother called her away.
They were still quiet. Leo could pick out each of their breathing. He looked at Finn, because his silence meant he still wasn’t convinced. Leo didn’t really want him to be.
“Logan told me that he thinks about the way he used to miss you, and misses you sometimes even when you’re asleep right next to him.”
Finn looked at Logan, lips parting. He didn’t look surprised, exactly. Just like it hurt to hear it again.
Leo covered Finn’s hand with his, drawing his eyes back to him. “That’s love. That’s what you have.”
Finn didn’t miss a beat. “Maybe we have more to give.”
Leo stared at him. Again—what were they doing, tucked away from the crowds in this little set of steps, talking about this?
Logan was so quiet, had been so quiet the whole time, that Leo had to look at him. Logan Tremblay. In what world did Logan Tremblay look at him like this? Like he was about to sing the chorus of I See Red, or leave the stage for Rooftop. The expression on his face looked real enough. Leo had to admit that.
“I don’t trust people,” Logan said under Leo’s gaze. “But I trust you.” When Leo went to speak, Logan pressed a palm to his chest. “Don’t tell me what happened on the balcony was your job. It wasn’t.”
“No. That wasn’t,” Leo said softly.
“How about this,” Finn said. “Stay long enough to get everything for the piece.”
“And we haven’t played you any of the new album,” Logan cut in.
“Oh yeah, yeah,” Finn said. “Hey, that’s in the contract for your piece.” He smiled. “You get to hear three songs.”
Leo couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Are you bribing me with your music?”
“Not bribing,” Finn said. “I want to know what you think. Always.”
“We.”
“We want to know what you think,” Finn said. “And we never said a word to your editors about this being more than just a music story, so…” Finn tilted his head. “Technically, we can all renegotiate and you…You can ask for more time with us?” He looked so, so hopeful. “And maybe, just maybe, we can show you that we’re not under some love-sick spell cast by your outstanding professionalism.”
Leo’s laugh was real this time, and so sudden that he covered his mouth. “Cast my by professionalism?”
Finn grinned and untangled himself enough to stand up. He offered them both a hand. “Come on. Let’s take our time.”
God. Finn O’Hara and all of his perfect words. “Time sounds good.”
~
It wasn’t a hard sell. The second Finn and Logan’s people told Leo’s people just how big this story would be, Leo was basically told to stay put for now, and Finn and Logan were told to only talk to Leo about this until the story was out and couldn’t be leaked. Essentially, they were told to talk, work, write, and not leave.
That had been five days ago. Leo was now thoroughly sunned, oceaned, and thinking a whole lot about Logan’s hand on his chest, Finn’s on his ankle, and kissing.
They went to the market nearly every morning. Leo had made a, if he could say so himself, perfect peach pie with the fruit he’d bought—Logan had bought. They’d been to Logan’s raved about restaurant and Leo had gotten his cheeks kissed by no less than six waiters. Logan had been right. He’d never tasted food like that.
They’d walked down Logan’s cliffs and spend hours lounging in the shade and sun and diving into deep, clear water. Leo had tried not to stare at Finn’s marble-pale chest in the sun. Logan’s tan-line that drew itself oh-so low on his hips. In his notebook lay the phrase couple of fucking mermaids that wouldn’t make it into any sort of writing but it was true.
Each night, Logan built a fire and Finn brought out a special wine—now Leo had seen him spend a good forty minutes with the man who owned the wine shop in town. Apparently it was a hobby of Finn’s. The other night, Finn had brought out a small bottle that was sweet and amber colored—and his guitar. Leo had gotten his first new song.
“Okay,” Finn had said. “So, this is called—wait, do you want your notebook or anything?”
Leo, feeling like Christmas morning, shook his head. “No. I just want to listen.”
“Cool.” Finn bit his lip. “Okay, cool. Cool. So it’s called…” He was looking at Leo, hand flexing on the neck of his guitar. “Um.”
“Rouge,” Logan said, sounding bewildered.
“Counting,” Finn burst out, laughing a little. “No, it’s called Counting. Sorry. Okay. Here we go. It’s about—” Finn waved his pick at Logan. “That one.”
Leo laughed. “That one?”
Finn shook his head, grinning down at his guitar as he gave the strings a small twist to make sure it was in tune. “That stupidly handsome person right there.”
Logan rolled his eyes and leaned towards Leo. “Imagine it with big drums. Sounds soft now, that’s how he wrote it, but on stage, on the album, I’m all in.” Logan grinned at Leo and he looked like he did on stage when Finn made him laugh into his mic.
“I think I can do that,” Leo said.
Finn began to sing.
One big game of hide and seek.
Count to ten and come find me.
I’m in here waiting patiently.
Tucked away and so ready.
Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen.
We’re okay just still counting.
I’ll hold you and you hold me.
Strike a match so we can see.
Don’t worry baby, I would count it all for you.
I’d count the miles, the minutes, the ways tried and true.
Five and six and seventeen,
I’d count mountains, towns, and streams,
Sneaking cracks on dark ceilings,
Motes of dust in sunlight gleams,
I would count most anything.
Leo forgot about the glass he was holding. He had to set it down. He leaned forward, towards the warm fire. Finn was perfect in its light. His dark red hair, the orange glow, the tan, scuffed up wood of his guitar. Leo spared a glance at Logan, who was already watching him. He didn’t look nervous like Finn. He looked relieved. As Leo watched, he let out a breath and nodded, biting back a smile. Finn’s eyes were closed, fingers quick on the guitar, the heel of his palm standing in place for what would be Logan’s beat.
Days
And months
And years
Of him,
Skin
And laughs
And sinking
In,
There a first for everythin’,
Listen up, he’s mine.
He’s
The Sun
I’m basking in
Crash
Into
His waves and swim
Fills me up right to my brim
If I overflow it’s fine.
Listen up, he’s mine—
I could build a shrine
I would pour the wine
Worship till I die
The god I recognize.
Leo was more than used to feeling breathless at Finn’s music, but this song sucked all the air from his lungs. He knew that counting. He knew the feeling of striking that match. He didn’t know what it was to be with someone through it, but he certainly knew.
Finn settled his guitar carefully on the couch when he was finished. He was all nervous energy, rubbing his hands together and fidgeting. He rose briefly and poured Leo more wine before settling back on the couch.
“So, there’s—yeah. What do you…” Finn trailed off.
“It’s beautiful,” Leo said. “It’s…If I overflow, it’s fine. I love that. I really love that, you—and the counting, that’s just perfectly true. That’s so true…” Leo felt his throat closing up and took a slow breath. “God, Finn. Both of you…It’s—I’ve always thought you walk this perfect line between sweet and…”
“And?” Logan asked when Leo trailed of.
Leo had only done so because he’d realized what he had been about to say. He’d already written about it, though, which meant Finn had already read it, so he might as well. “Well. Just—epic. It’s an epic love, it’s—sexy. That’s how you write it.”
“Hm.” Logan looked pleased.
“I hoped you would understand,” Finn said. “I mean, I knew you would.”
“This is your first song using him,” Leo said. “No French girls met on tour, no room for misunderstanding.”
Logan grumbled something about French girls into his wine cup and Finn reached over and pulled him into a sloppy sort of kiss. Logan let his face be smushed into an equally joyful kiss on his cheek.
“None,” Finn said. “No more of all that. We want to be clear. On everything.”
Leo sat back against the cushions. “Everything.”
“Ouais,” Logan said. “Everything.”
~
Nearing the end of their second week, Leo and Finn were swimming. Finn kept diving down and bringing Leo little treasures from the bottom. He had this funny pair of goggles that he wore to do it. He’d push them down around his neck and show Leo shells and interesting rocks before tossing them back under. His body looked cool and pale under the surface.
Finn kept surprising him. Maybe that showed on his face because, as they tread water, talking, Finn tilted his head and asked.
“What?” Finn said, dipping his mouth low into the salt water before rising again. “What’s with the face?”
Leo brought his legs forward to float more on his back, laughing. “Oh. Nothing.”
Finn splashed him. “What?” He swam closer until Leo could pick out new freckles on his slightly sunburned nose. “What, what, what?”
They were near the rocky ledges and Finn pointed out a spot that he probably knew well, where two people could sit on a natural ledge just beneath the water. The stone was rough, but it put them in the shade and the calm waves lapped around their chests.
“You’re just…” Leo pressed his lips together, smiling.
“Okay, I’m gonna like, dunk you or something if you don’t—”
“You’re kind of a—” Leo shrugged. “A dork.”
Finn’s face was too good not to laugh at.
“I’m a what?”
“A dork,” Leo said. “Completely.”
“Excuse me.” Finn leaned closer. “I am not.”
“A dork,” Leo sighed. “Pop star dork.” Finn squinted at Leo in the sun, smiling. He still had the goggles around his neck and Leo reached forward and hooked a finger in them. “See?”
Finn hummed noncommittally. He’d let Leo’s hand nudge them closer together.
“Well, I guess that’s all right, then.”
Finn skipped his hand along the water’s surface. It was almost too bright to look at directly with the sun coming off it like that, and Leo leaned back against the rock and the shade, keeping his eyes on Finn instead.
“So—possible article question for you,” he said. “If it’s all right?”
“Go for it.”
Leo touched a sparkling vein of mineral in the rock, tracing his finger down it. “What’s it like when you first play Logan a song like that one you played me?”
“Like…what? A love song?”
“Well, yeah, to put it lightly. But…Listen up, he’s mine, I could build a shrine, I would pour the wine, worship till I die, the god I recognize. Love song…does that begin to cover those lyrics?”
Finn laughed. “Wow. I played that for you once.”
“You’re pretty unforgettable.”
“Shucks.”
Leo drew one knee up to his chest. “It’s…There’s something like I See Red to it.”
“Logan wrote that mostly.”
“I know. Exactly. The way you talk about each other. It is like…intense, I don’t know. I just mean—here. I’ll ask it this way first. What went through your mind when Logan played I See Red for you the first time?”
“Mm.” Finn smiled at the memory. “You mean what happened after he told me he wants me all over him?”
Leo tried not to show how hot his body flashed, burning, even in the cool ocean. He rested his chin on his knee, then his mouth, just to hide the wavering sort of inhale he took.
“If—whatever you want to tell me,” Leo managed.
Finn mirrored Leo’s position—knee up, hands locked around his ankle. “How would you feel if someone played a song like that for you? About you.”
“That’s my question.”
“You first.”
Leo rolled his eyes.
“That’s right,” Finn said, propping his chin on his knee like Leo with a sly sort of grin. “I’m a difficult little rock star.”
“Oh, are you writing an article?” Leo laughed.
Finn’s brown eyes stayed sincere and playful. “I don’t write articles.”
Leo stared at him. Finn was visibly holding himself back, even if he was leaning forward and kept looking at Leo’s mouth. Leo had to remind himself that he’d asked him to. Finn wanted him. Finn still wanted him, that was obvious. His brown eyes were a little bit of fall right there in the summer sun. Leo kind of wanted to be kissed on this ledge in the ocean.
I don’t write articles.
“What’s that mean?” Leo asked faintly.
Finn considered him for another moment. “You said you’ve had…clients fall for you before.” Finn looked especially handsome asking a question in his little melodramatic way. Leo didn’t know what it was, but he did. “Ever had a song written about you?”
Okayokayokay. “No…”
“Hm.”
“Not that I know of.” Leo swallowed. He tasted salt on his lips. “Now you. You have to answer.”
“You didn’t answer.”
Leo sighed, smiling. “I…” He tried to clear his head. A song. Lyrics that were so all-consuming. “I would feel…”
He didn’t know. It was almost unimaginable.
He hesitated for long enough, cheek pressed to his knee now, that Finn copied him in that, too, and helped him.
“Timeless,” Finn said.
That gave Leo a word. “Immortal.”
Finn nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly.
Leo watched the sunlight play on Finn’s freckles. He was the picture of a high noon sun, and he was looking between Leo’s eyes and his mouth.
Neither of them saw the wave.
They got a face full of water to splutter through as it’s gentle crest went nearly over their heads, lifting them from their seat.
“They say every tenth one is the biggest,” Finn laughed. He put his goggles back on, grinned at Leo, and held up two thumbs up. “Lunch?”
He felt tan, and cool from the water as they made it back to the house. He didn’t bother washing the salt off his skin, just threw on a fresh pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He only realized when he glanced at himself in the mirror that he and Finn must have swapped on accident at the water’s edge. Instead of his plain white t-shirt, this one was white with a faded NASA logo on it. Leo’s pulse kicked up. He’d seen Finn wear this. On stage. Many times. It was famous on Instagram and Twitter. Replicas had been made. Girls wore copies of this t-shirt to their concerts.
Leo was standing here, wearing the original.
He took a breath before going back out to the living room.
Finn went off to write somewhere with his guitar, but Leo fixed him and Logan sandwiches and they settled in the living room, all of the doors flung wide. Logan was doing a puzzle. Leo had his notebook on his lap with a little section dedicated to transcribing the little murmurs of French Logan said as he worked. Not for the story, just for him. No, not there. This stupid blue. Wrong color. Ah, yes, here. This fits.
Leo sighed and dropped his pen, flexing his cramping hand.
“Ça va?” Logan asked from where he’d been frowning over two puzzle pieces. Leo was still getting over the sheer sweetness of the intense-on-stage-Logan he had known sitting in front of him for an hour and putting a puzzle together. Leo wasn’t sure what the picture would end up being. Logan refused to look at the box lid for reference. It was face-down beside him. Again, Leo sort of wanted to laugh at how he’d thought it would be an all-night party every night. Nope. Late morning coffee, farmer’s markets, cocktails, and puzzles. Much more his speed.
“Yeah, good,” Leo said. “My hand just cramps up if I write for too long. Hand write, at least.”
“Hm.” Logan set the pieces he was holding down and pushed himself up onto his knees. He walked himself over to the couch that way and sank back on his heels at Leo’s feet. He held out his hands. “Give to me.”
“I—what?” Leo asked.
Logan just made an impatient sound and reached for the hand that Leo had been stretching out. He arranged Leo’s hand palm up with his fingers flat but relaxed. Then Logan’s strong thumbs began pressing into the heel of Leo’s palm, smoothing down towards the inside of his wrist. He pressed near his elbow too—Leo hadn’t even realized it hurt there.
“It’s all connected, the wrist, the fingers, it goes all the way to the shoulder,” Logan said. His accent got a little stronger here and Leo almost wanted to ask him to say all that again. But then Logan was kneading at Leo’s shoulder just below his collarbone and—
“Oh,” Leo said faintly. “That feels…”
Logan smiled. “Je sais. Finn is even better at it, I make him do it to me all the time.”
Leo thought about the way Finn liked to come up behind him or Logan, and the way he squeezed their shoulders. If he was putting effort and purpose behind that…Yeah, it would be heavenly.
“I like your shirt,” Logan said teasingly.
“I guess we swapped.”
“Mm. Guess so.”
Leo just tilted his head to the side and let himself relax in Logan’s hands as he worked out the soreness. He hadn’t realized his eyes had closed until he felt Logan’s fingers slowing. Finally, they stilled, both cradling Leo’s hand again. He opened his eyes to see green staring back. Logan had settled very close on the couch, but maybe Leo had drawn him there, too, unconsciously pulling him closer to where it hurt so that he could make it better.
Logan rested a hand on his chest, just as he had at the market. His eyes darted down to Leo’s mouth. Logan had a perfect cupid’s bow. So perfect. Leo wanted to take it in his mouth and feel its dip.
He’d wanted that in the ocean, too. Finn had a freckle on his lip, just at the border where pale skin met pink, and Leo just…God, he wanted it.
“Leo,” Logan whispered.
“Yes,” Leo said, hearing the question Logan hadn’t yet asked.
“Just one,” Logan said. “Please. Is it okay?”
What else would Leo do other than nod. He was running out of willpower. These boys. These shell-diving, wine-enthusiast, puzzle-doing, grumpy in the morning boys. He worried he was smiling a little too much and tried to take a breath. Tried to steady himself. Logan pushed himself up onto the couch, kneeling with on knee down so that Leo’s body angled towards him. One of his hands went to Leo’s thigh, bunching the fabric of his shorts.
It was the softest kiss Leo had ever been given. Logan lingered in it, though. A soft, giddy intake of breath and the lightest of tugs at Leo’s bottom lip.
Leo’s hand went to his waist, to the very spot he had been dying to touch. Near the tattoo. And the cupid’s bow, he could feel it. And the way Logan held himself perfectly still, as if letting Leo control the whole thing. The problem was, Leo’s mind was forgetting almost everything he’d said just a few days ago.
Here, they were just two boys.
Logan made a soft sound in his throat when Leo tilted his chin up to kiss him harder. It parted his lips and Leo tested gently, but Logan let him right in. He tasted the mint tea Logan had been drinking—seemingly the only thing he took without sugar. Logan’s fingers curled and held onto Leo’s t-shirt. Finn’s t-shirt.
Here, there felt like there was all the room for him in the world, even if he didn’t understand why they wanted him to begin with.
Here, it didn’t seem to matter that he was a journalist and they his subjects.
Logan broke the kiss gently, but stayed close. The string that would break Leo’s resolve hadn’t snapped, but oh, was it ever threadbare. Logan could probably feel how fast Leo’s heart was pounding beneath his hand.
“Ça va?” Logan asked faintly.
Leo had to swallow hard to find his voice. “Mhm.”
Logan nodded, the motion bringing their foreheads to rest together. He shifted and let out a sigh.
Leo realized he’d tucked his hands up and under Logan’s shirt and he just had to look down for a glimpse of that tattoo.
He got a lot more.
Logan’s shorts were straining around his hips. Leo got turned on so fast, stars sparked around his vision. The shorts were linen. White. Barely anything. They buttoned, not zipped, and those buttons were trying to hold on.
“Sorry,” Logan whispered.
“No,” Leo managed to say. He sounded weird to himself. “It’s—you’re fine. Very fine.”
“I just…” Logan laughed a little. He cupped a palm to Leo’s face briefly before pulling away. He flashed him a bashful smile as he turned back to sit on the couch. “Là, I mean, look at you. I’m…d’accord. I don’t mean to…”
Leo needed to say something more. He needed to say something not stupid. Something other than I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming right now.
“We’re taking our time,” Logan said. He took Leo’s hand and squeezed.
“I—no, we are,” Leo said. But if you wanted to sit on my lap right fucking now—
“Ouais,” Logan said. He was breathing slow, like he was trying to will himself to calm down. “Okay, so I will—be right back?”
They both kind of dissolved into laughter at that. Logan sat next to him, rubbing his hands over his face.
“Merde. Does this go into the piece?”
Leo had to stop laughing long enough to say, “In the middle of doing a puzzle, Tremblay had to be right back—”
Logan let out one of his free laughs and reached over blindly to shove at Leo’s knee. “Hey, take a look at yourself. You’re just as bad.”
Leo was trying very hard not to think about himself.
Logan rose, face flushed, and jerked his head towards the puzzle. “See if you can figure out that hellish thing over there.”
Leo watched as he disappeared through the doorway. Leo didn’t know if he was going to find Finn to help or go somewhere on his own to—well, fix it or calm down. Both thoughts sent Leo’s body aching. He had to lean his head back on the couch and breathe. He reached down and tried to make himself more comfortable, but it didn’t help.
He picked his notebook back up. He flexed his hand and picked up his pen. No use. He closed his notebook. He looked at Logan’s puzzle.
He took a deep breath, slid himself to the floor, and set about fitting a couple pieces into place.
~
Leo got called back the next morning via an email with airline tickets attached for the following morning. Apparently endless time equated a week more. Rather, Leo would be sent back out to a show when their tour started back up to write a follow-up snippet on what it was like playing shows as a couple.
But it left Leo a little frantic and disoriented. It left Logan and Finn staring at him with faces that were almost mournful when he broke them the news over morning coffee.
Logan punched Finn’s arm. “Be a difficult little rock star.”
Finn arched a brow at Leo. “Can I?”
Leo smiled, tempted to take Finn up on it, but he knew it was probably no good. He was supposed to be with them for a week. It’d been almost three. His boss would want their story polished and published, and Leo back in the office.
Only now here he was. His last night in this perfect place, unable to sleep.
The sleeplessness wasn’t new to him. He’d had insomnia ever since he could remember. It was only that it was here. He’d never slept so well in his life as he had these past few weeks.
It could have been worse. At least with all the extra space and the crashing waves, he didn’t feel worried about waking anyone up as he made himself some tea in the kitchen before trying to lull himself back to sleep by proofreading. Nothing exhausted him like proofreading.
He rubbed at his eyes as the kettle heated. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t feel like he had an old life. This felt like his life. Waking up and Logan making him that perfect bitter sweet espresso. Finn’s music all day long, soft plucks on the guitar, humming as they read together on the dock. Finn coming to peak over his shoulder while he was writing, stealing his pen out of his hand and adding seemingly random words. Blue!! Sunny!! Dazzle!!
The morning markets. Logan’s almond pastry. Puzzles and movies and how did he get here? Oh God, how did he love the hours of the day so much?
“Fancy meeting you here.”
Leo jumped hard, eyes flashing open as he turned. Finn was standing there in a well-loved t-shirt that said New York Rangers. He had his hands in the pockets of his cotton pajama pants and was smiling sheepishly.
“Sorry.”
Leo laughed, hand on his chest. “No, me. I mean, I’m sorry. You startled me. What are you doing awake?”
Finn raised his eyebrows. “What are you doing?”
“Lord, am I a hopeless sleeper,” Leo said. “I’ve been getting up at one in the morning and staying awake until three for as long as I can remember.”
“Oh.” Finn frowned. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”
“I’m used to it. What about you?”
Finn shrugged. “I think I heard you.”
“Fuck.” Leo felt his shoulders slump. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, no,” Finn said. “I was kind of already awake.” He paused and leaned his hands on the cool stone counter between them. “Was thinking about you leaving.”
“Yeah,” Leo said. “Me too.”
“You really have to go?”
“You have to go, too,” Leo said. “You’re kind of on a world tour, you know.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Finn said. “Sorry, I’ve been doing more important things lately.”
Leo smiled. “Oh…I don’t know about that.”
Finn gave him this unconvinced look as he rounded the kitchen counter. He looked like he was on stage all of a sudden. Something about his walk. The daring look in his eye. Like he was about to say something to a crowd that was sure to get a reaction.
He stopped right next to Leo and crossed his arms, looking at him. Unlike Logan, they were almost eye-to-eye. Finn’s smile brought heat from Leo’s chest to his hips.
“I hear Logan got a kiss.”
That heat spread out farther. His cheeks. His neck. Finn’s eyes darted over his face like he was watching it.
“He did,” Leo said. Oh God, please kiss me.
Finn clicked his tongue like it was a shame. “Would’ve liked to see it, gotta say.”
Leo laughed a little. “Honestly, me too.”
Finn bit his lip. He was sort of smiling, but there was something else there, too. It was half hidden in the dim kitchen.
“Is it…Is it that you like one of us better?” A flicker of insecurity. “Because if—”
Leo pushed his hands against Finn’s chest. Stopping him. Holding him there. Brown eyes, bed-head, skin still salty from the sea. Leo had always loved Finn O’Hara. But Finn. This Finn was something else. This Logan… All of those fans didn’t even have a clue.
Leo couldn’t stand that hurt look on Finn’s face. He curled a hand behind Finn’s neck and pulled him closer. Like he’d wanted to in the ocean. Like he’d wanted to every time he heard him sing.
“Finn, I like both of you so much, it scares me.”
“Then…” Finn leaned closer, dropping his voice to hardly a whisper, so quiet that Leo more felt the words brush his own lips than he heard them. “Don’t I get a kiss, too? Before you go? Feeling a little left out over here—”
Leo didn’t let him finish. He pushed forward and kissed him.
His world went perfectly silent.
Oh. Leo grabbed onto Finn’s broad shoulders. Oh, oh, oh, Finn O’Hara could kiss. Oh, Finn could kiss, he could kiss, he kissed Leo like he would never breathe again and Leo felt himself sink. His chin tilted up, his body fell into Finn’s, and Finn took it. Finn held him.
He pressed harder against Finn’s body. Finn made a soft sound when his back hit the counter and his hands smoothed down Leo’s back, cupping his hips.
Finn managed to get out, “Are you—” before Leo was kissing him again.
“Yes,” Leo said. “Yes, yes…”
This was not Logan’s restraint. Not a single kiss. This was the sugar in Finn’s songs, the sugar that always applied to Logan in Leo’s mind. But Finn’s kiss was so all-consuming that it occurred to Leo that some of that sweetness had to belong to him. God, what could Logan do when he wasn’t holding back?
It took Leo a moment to figure out what sound was pulling at his mind and interrupting him. A strange, high-pitch—
“Shit,” Leo mumbled. “Tea, tea, tea.”
Finn didn’t even break away, though. He reached out a hand and flicked the stove off to stop the kettle from whistling.
The renewed silence rung in Leo’s ears. Finn’s palm was rubbing up and down Leo’s back.
Suddenly, Finn was hugging him tightly. His chin was tucked into Leo’s neck and Leo’s hand went to his hair automatically. That famous hair. Red and thick and soft. Leo turned his nose into it.
“You have our numbers,” Finn whispered. “And you know where we’ll be.” His brown eyes looked pleading when he pulled back. “You will choose a show, won’t you? Choose a show and come see us. The article will be out. I know there’s the follow up but—We’ll just be three people.”
Just three people. Leo thought of those little dressing rooms. That New York apartment. This place. But the fear was still there. Three people. Leo didn’t care what strangers thought. He cared about the aftermath of losing them, though. If he lost them…
Finn read it all on his face and he took Leo’s cheeks in his palms. He kissed him—this was closer to Logan’s gentle kiss.
“Come to a show and find out how much I want this,” Finn said. “Okay? Promise me. Or do I have to wake up grumpy and get him to tell you because he’ll probably just burrow in and not let you leave. Ever.” A brush of Finn’s nose against Leo’s. “He’s all about that kind of thing these days.”
Leo’s laugh spilled out, too much and too giddy for the night, but he didn’t mind. When he made to pull back, just a little, Finn took his arms and put them back around his neck. Leo couldn’t help his shiver as Finn’s palms ran down his sides and Finn pressed another smiling kiss to his mouth.
“If you wake him, I really will never leave,” Leo whispered. “And I do have to go.”
“Then promise me.”
Leo closed his eyes. He was so sure he’d be able to sleep just fine if Finn kept holding him like this.
“I promise.”
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rassicas · 8 months ago
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If a future Splatoon game absolutely HAD to add another playable species (even though it's really not all that necessary) which would you like to see most?
a new species would have to be... -capable of naturally producing ink. weve seen some other species capable of producing "ink" (salmonids, i dont think its literally squid ink but its functionally the same. big man can, but its his toxins and implied to be a special ability for his family and not something rays can normally do. idk what the deal is with master mega and the eels) -have thin skin that lets them shapeshift between 2 forms. we see salmonids and big man dive in ink, and sheldon can hide in his shell but this inky transformation is exclusive to inklings and octolings so far, as they have evolved to be ink based, and have thin skin that allows for this transformation. the evolutionary trade off to this is that they can't go in water because of this thin skin. this is why shapeshifting salmonlings literally cannot exist btw -capable of respawning. splatoon team has been consistent about this being something ONLY the ink-based inklings and octolings can do. when big man and the smallfry "die" they do not explode nor do we see a ghost (in contrast, frye and shiver do die and respawn) . it seems that being truly ink based is what allows for respawning.
-would have to have the same abilities as octolings and inklings, and basically be a reskin of them for the sake of gear. in-universe other species CAN play turf war or ranked, but considering respawning is something limited to inkfish, other species cannot inkily transform, and are fine with water, i'm sure theres some modifications to the rules. like this is fine in-universe, but to splatoon as a game? this sounds like a nightmare. especially if this new species has different abilities than the inklings and octolings? if species choice is no longer fun and cosmetic, but something to consider for meta, thats horrible! btw they wouldnt even put the suckers on the topside of the tentacles for the octolings in swim form despite it being like that in concept art, and it being inconsistent with the humanoid forms. also the tentacle lengths are inconsistent with the enemy octolings. im convinced they made these choices so the swim form wouldnt stand out too strongly against the inklings. so in what universe would we get something like. a playable fishling. lol taking established lore into account as well as gameplay, cuttlefish, another ink-producing cephalopod, are quite literally the only new species id be ok with. keyword "ok with" i dont want a new playable, i just want more customization options for the guys we have
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writingquestionsanswered · 2 months ago
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How can I come up with good names for days and months in a fantasy setting? I know many people use gods, but there’s not enough gods for that to work here.
Non-God Options for Days of the Week in Fantasy
Celestial: (Sun's Day, Moon's Day) Star's Day, Aurora's Day, Comet's Day, Eclipse Day
Nature: River Day, Sea Day, Rock Day, Flower Day
Weather: Fog Day, Frost Day, Rain Day, Cloud Day
Gems & Metals: Gold Day, Silver Day, Ruby Day, Beryl Day
Elemental: Wind Day, Ember Day, Rain Day, Stone Day
Cultural: Prayer Day, Market Day, Feast Day, Artisan Day
Numeric or Sequential: First Day, Prime Day, Midweek, Last Day
Animals: Bear Day, Fox Day, Turtle Day, Bird Day
Think about the society at the center of your story. What things are important to them, or would have been important to the people coming up with these names? How might these words have changed over the ages? (For example, "Monday" comes from "Monandaeg" which is the Saxon word for "Moon's Day" after the Latin/Roman name for Monday, which was "dies Lunae" or "Luna's Day." And, of course, "Luna" was the Ancient Roman moon goddess.) You might choose a particular convention to go with instead of ending each one with "day." Like maybe they end in "a" or "en" or "al."
You can also use a mix of things... perhaps this culture begins its week with a day of prayer and relaxation, so that is Prayer Day (or Praya as it evolved...), then the next four days are dedicated to work, so each day is named after one of the culture's most important trades: Fishing Day (Fisha), Mining Day (Minda), Farming Day (Farma), and Artisan Day (Artisa). Then, the last two days are dedicated to celebration and rest... Festival Day (Festa) and Repose Day (Reposa).
Happy writing!
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justdiptych · 7 months ago
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The original Fallout had one group of raiders. That was the name the game map gave to them - 'Raiders' - but they were in fact known as the Khans. They were a relatively minor faction, being tied to quests in the first town the player is likely to visit, but we learn a lot about them in their brief appearance.
Many of the Khans are given names and dialogue, and will tell the player about their history - including how they came from the same place as the people of Shady Sands, Vault 15, and feel entitled to share in the town's wealth. Some see their raiding life as a way to claim control of the post-war world - ruling through strength and fear, believing that old ideas of morality died with the rest of the world. Others treat it as just another job - they support their group by trading, maintaining equipment, preparing food, and other everyday tasks.
In short, the Khans are a fully-realised community, as much a part of the story as any other. We learn that their brutal leader, Garl Death-Hand, took command after killing his abusive father. The player can kill him, or negotiate with him, or impress him with acts of cruelty, or even challenge his nihilistic views by convincing him that they're his father, back from the dead. Killing Garl and destroying his compound is treated as the best choice for the region as a whole, and is confirmed to have happened in the next game in the series, but it's certainly not the only option.
Fallout 2 has two groups of raiders. One - again marked 'Raiders' on the map - turn out not to be raiders at all, in that they're not attacking towns to steal their wealth. Instead, they're a mercenary company, hired by a disreputable businessman from one town (New Reno) on behalf of another town (Shady Sands again, now the capital of the New California Republic) to harass a third town (Vault City) to convince them that they need outside help in maintaining their defences. It's part of the game's major subplot about the three societies competing for control of northern California and western Nevada.
The other group are the New Khans, founded by Garl's son Darion after the original Khans' defeat. These Khans aren't nearly so fearsome as their predecessors - they mostly operate in secret, hiding behind a group of squatters who have moved into the ruins of Vault 15 and pretending to help them restore it for use. Darion is wracked with resentment over what happened to his father's crew and guilt for having survived, and his gang ultimately present little real threat to the outside world.
What I'm getting at here is that, in the world of Fallout as it existed in those early games, 'raiders' were not a major factor. There was one group who conducted raids as part of their regular economic activity, but only against particular communities - Shady Sands saw them as raiders, but to the Hub, they were just traders. Raiders only existed in a particular context - they had particular interests, beliefs and opportunities that would not always be possible or applicable.
Most of the games' conflict came not from the existence of raiders but from bilateral political and economic competition between groups with overlapping but not identical interests, which was reflected in their respective ideologies. We see this in Killian and Gizmo fighting to control the future of Junktown, and in the Master's attempt to reshape the world with the Unity while the different groups of New California try to retain their independence.
We particularly see it in Fallout 2, with its three-way battle for economic domination between the constitutional democracy of the New California Republic, the mafia-ruled narco-state of New Reno, and the elitist technocratic slave state of Vault City. Which of these groups continue to rule and expand, and which crumble, is what ultimately shapes the region's future - with control of Redding and its gold supply as the linchpin.
While the Enclave are the story's primary antagonists, they're chiefly characterised by their refusal to engage with this new socio-economic order - they believe that all outside authorities are illegitimate, and all outsiders non-human, and their only plan is to release a bioweapon into the atmosphere and kill literally everyone on Earth but themselves. The Enclave's defeat is necessary for New California's survival, but, otherwise, they change very little about how people live their lives. They're like Darion's New Khans on a larger scale - relics of a fallen order, robbed of their purpose, hiding in an old bunker and driven by nothing but resentment of having been left behind.
I might, in future, talk about the contrasting depiction of raiders in Fallouts 3, 4 and 76, and about New Vegas's use of raider and bandit groups like the Khans, the Legion, the Fiends and the White Legs. For now, I think I've made my point - that raiders are not a fact of life but a product of a particular place and time, and much less relevant to the universe of Fallout than other forms of competition and violence.
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lightandfellowship · 4 months ago
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Eraqus. Slacker. Class clown. Awful sense of humor. Jokes about being a coward despite never backing down from a fight. Picks fights. Vents his anger with violence. Resorts to force when he thinks he’s out of options. Gripped a Keyblade for the first time because that’s simply what was expected of him. Found meaning and purpose beyond just upholding a family tradition.
Can’t cope with change. Refuses to change. Fails at every turn to re-evaluate his beliefs.
Collapses like a tower of cards when his friends leave him behind. Weeps every night when they die. Dreams of being a savior to those lost to the darkness. Falls short of that dream time and time again, by his own hand.
Lived long enough to grow up but never matured in the the ways that mattered.
Welcomes his terrible best friend back into his life, again, and again, and again, even when he shouldn’t. Trading his own pain for the pain of those his friend hurts. He forgives. He forgets. Water under the bridge. He’s lost so many friends already, he can’t stomach losing the last.
But their paths are always destined to diverge. He sticks to the road well-traveled, well-lit. The sole inheritor of his Master’s legacy. There was no one else. Process of elimination. The darkness of the grave, the darkness of the heart. The last one standing in the light of day.
Lives in a far-off, isolated world, with only his two students for company. Three students. Raises them, shelters them, instructs them, but his flaws shine with such blinding intensity that they bleed into his teachings, breeding flawed knowledge, breeding flawed students.
Recognizes history repeating itself, tries to avoid the mistakes of the past, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Half the key to summoning Kingdom Hearts stands before him and he knows what he must do. He’s prepared himself for this exact scenario, hardened his heart to the notion, because he can’t let the numbers of the fallen tick up like they did before.
Eight, nine, ten. Eleven.
He battles the young man he calls his son. Is killed by the man he called his best friend.
Waits, and waits, and waits, for over a decade, until he’s face-to-face with that same friend again. It’s time to stand down. It’s time to stand up. He pulls his best friend up, gives him a shoulder to lean on. He had a dream once, made a promise, and better late than never, right?
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hellfirenacht · 3 months ago
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Wing Man: End Credit Scene
Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.
Chapter Summary: Post Credit Scene
Words: 786
(Master List 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 Epilogue Post Credit)
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A young boy with short and unruly curls stares at the vending machines. He has very limited pocket money, having spent the morning poking through every payphone and looking under every couch cushion for the last quarter to allow him to buy a bag of chips and a TAB. 
He punches in the code for the soda, double and triple checking to make sure he’s going to get his desired treat. With success, the soda falls with a satisfying THUNK and he carefully tucks it into his coat pocket. 
Now he moves to the snack machine and punches in the number for the chips, again double checking that it is correct. The machine makes a noise, and the swirly metal that holds the chips shakes for a moment and then... nothing. 
No satisfying fall of the chips, just a mechanical hum and then silence. 
The boy frowns and reached out to push the coin return button. 
Nothing happens. 
He pushes it again, a few more times in a row, and is still met with a stillness. 
He gives the machine a shake and a smack before letting out a defeated sigh. He leans against the machine, and tries to remind himself that at least he got his soda, which is more than he could normally say. The thought that he could ask a teacher or the principal for a refund crosses his mind, but that’s quickly shut down by common sense. No one would give a shit about letting the poor freak get his quarter back. 
“Is it broken again?” Someone asks him, and he looks up to see a girl about his age. She’s holding a library book and a few sheets of loose paper. 
The boy nods. “Yeah, it ate my quarter.” He says. 
The girl moves next to him, and he’s unsure how to feel about someone so close to him. Ever since middle school started, most people avoided him like the plague but this girl seems more concerned about the vending machine. 
She digs into her pocket and pulls out her own shiny set of quarters and drops one. Both kids reach down to pick the coins up but end up bumping their heads together and laughing awkwardly. The boy picks up the quarter while the girl rubs her forehead. 
The girl takes the quarter and looks at the machine. “Which one screwed you?”
“B3.” The boy replies. 
She looks at the vending machine and pokes at the 3 button a few times before handing over her library book to him. He looks down at the cover, it’s a book on how to do origami which seems pretty random to him. The girl pulls out a folded piece of paper (is that supposed to be a fish or a frog?) and starts rubbing the folded seam between the buttons. 
“3 sticks.” she said. “That’s what someone told me at least.” 
She pushes B3 again. Nothing happens. 
“They might have also been full of shit.” she shrugs and the boy laughs at the bluntness. “Is there a different one you want?” 
He looks at the options and settles on a candy bar at the bottom. “That one.”
She pushes the buttons, and this time, it falls successfully. The boy pulls it out and quickly unwraps it. 
“Here.” he says and snaps it in half, handing it over to the girl who takes it, along with her book. 
“Are you sure?” she asks, and he nods. 
The bell rings, signaling that they have about 30 seconds to get to home room before either of them would be in trouble. The girl hands over the piece of paper she had tried to use to help him. (Maybe it’s a car? No, cars don’t have legs but neither do fish... this has to be a fish, right?)
“Trade you.” She says with a smile and quickly runs off towards her class. The boy awkwardly waves before turning and hurrying towards his own homeroom. 
The alleged frog would eventually get covered in chocolate and tossed with other garbage at the end of the week. The half of the girls candy bar would be eaten in three bites and forgotten about. Ultimately, this interaction that only lasted three minutes at most shouldn’t mean anything. 
Most meetings are rarely memorable or dramatic. Sometimes, you meet someone once and never see them again. Sometimes, you’re lucky enough to meet someone for the first time over and over. 
Eddie Munson never thought of himself as lucky. You never thought of yourself as much of anything. 
It’s a good thing that it never mattered, as the two of you met over and over until there were no more firsts and only continuations.
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I've never finished a fic that was more than 3 chapters. Say something nice to me, please 💜
Dividers by: @strangergraphics
Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n
@mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea
@vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93
@perpetualmessmachine @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh
@siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288
@sheneedsrocknroll92 @kores-mun-son-n-more @eddiebuttcheeks @kirsteng42 @dreamerjj
@moonisu @em022O @cosmorant @kurdtbean
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papermatisse · 2 years ago
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Let Me Try Again || K.SY
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♗ pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader
♗ genre: angst, fluff
♗ word count: 30k
♗ warnings: heavy plot + elements (depression, anxiety, abandonment), pregnancy, foul language
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♗ synopsis: Soonyoung had never wanted to live a restrained capitalistic life, forced to work a tiresome 9 to 5, paying taxes until the day he dies. Though in exchange to pursue the other option, that being devotion to a career, he had to pay an unfathomably large price—he had to abandon everything and everyone he's ever loved. can he fit himself back into his former life? one that's changed more than he can possibly imagine? could the ones he loved forgive him for his wrongdoings? could he get the second chance he wants so desperately?
♗ (a/n): im back w my bs uwu. one of my biggest fics, named after Frank Sinatra's "Let Me Try Again". pls give it a read and enjoy! 😭🙏❤️
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Soonyoung breathed a sigh of relief upon stepping off the plane. Though he was still trapped in the crowd of other passengers, scrambling to meet with their respective families and collect their baggage, he had never felt so free.
College was an experience, to say the least. He had his fair share of fun, partying and meeting new friends. Sometimes those parties went awry, with either cops showing up to dismantle the chaotic atmosphere or Soonyoung drinking more than he could handle. He also experienced those painful nights of cramming, staying up until the crack of dawn, eyes near bloodshot, faint lines of text imprinted in his vision for the next few minutes as he turned away from his textbooks.
Many times, he was sure he'd fail, ruin his life forever. The life he had worked tirelessly to prepare for. The life he traded everything for, leaving behind his family, his friends. The girl he had sworn he'd marry one day.
Yet here he was, Master's degree now printed on his resume in a single additional line. A new and accomplished man, ready to take on the world.
And it seemed his efforts were already coming to use as he left his university. He had already gotten a fairly reasonable job offer; a software engineer in the tech department of SVT Corporations. It was a major industry, a rare job offer he'll probably never see again in his lifetime. It had to be pure luck. That he was in the right place at the right time. A surreal experience, that he was able to land such a fantastic start to his career.
Though before accepting, he decided to return to his roots one last time. A final goodbye to his past. The foundation which supported him up to this point. His childhood home. 
Being away for so long was quite the challenge for Soonyoung. He had always been a family man, someone who always put his loved ones before himself. Though as he grew older, his priorities admittedly shifted. Yet there still remained that tug in his heart, swaying him back to his loved ones, reminding him that though he wished to give himself the stable life he had always craved, he could never truly sacrifice everything for himself.
So to have to pack up and move across the country for years was truly a harrowing feat, though one he nevertheless conquered.
It was difficult, a trial he never really prepared himself for because he never believed he'd have to endure it. That dull ache in his heart that first time he video called his mother. Watching her face appear on his screen, grainy from the lousy connection, though still there. Still his loving mother. She cried for him, proud he was doing this for himself. Happy that her son was going to have a future as an engineer. What more could a mother want but the joy of her children?
He remained where he was for all those years. Never once flying back home. Because he feared that the moment he stepped foot in his town, he'd stay. The memories of his past calling out to him. The treehouse his friends and him always frequented. The bowling alley Seokmin and him would spend hours in avoiding schoolwork. The park he confessed his love to his crush. 
Yet as he stepped off the terminal, breathing in the air of his hometown for the first time in six years, he felt his worries were for naught.
He had heard his family before he had seen them, sister all but colliding into him the moment she spotted him. Tears brimmed his eyes as he held her for the first time in years, surprised at how grown she had become. Afterwards came his mother who had already been crying long before she had seen him, and then his father who also looked equally misty eyed.
For the first time in a long while, Soonyoung felt somewhat complete. 
His first day back had been spent with his family. Catching up with them, sharing his stories from college, hearing some of the family drama he missed out on.
At the dinner table, as they continued to converse with one another, his father had asked what his plans were.
He told him that he had been given a job offer that he was supposed to answer by the end of the month.
The news definitely dampened the mood, as he basically admitted right then and there that they would only have Soonyoung for four weeks before he was to leave them once more. Nevertheless, they chose to cherish the little time they had with Soonyoung, refusing to dwell upon the inevitable and instead thrive in the happiness he granted them with his presence.
The next day, he was already calling his friends again, digging through his old contacts and hoping none of them had changed their numbers. Though more specifically, he hoped Seokmin hadn't changed his number. 
He pressed the contact, smiling fondly at the silly display before him. An old picture of the boy from when they went to the pool, the dual ensemble of a swimming cap paired with a tiny set of black goggles. It was dumb, yet ever nostalgic, and still brought joy to Soonyoung as he finally dialed the number, pressing his phone to his ear. 
Upon the first ring, Soonyoung felt himself gulp, nearly choking on the descent down his throat. His thoughts began hitting him all at once. 
What if Seokmin didn't want Soonyoung anymore? He did just leave with no other words after getting on that plane. What if Seokmin hated him?
Second ring.
Why didn't Soonyoung just talk to his friends? He knew he was busy, but he shouldn't have been too busy for his childhood friends? Why couldn't he just keep in contact at the least? A simple greeting every so often wouldn't have hurt him. 
Third ring. 
Soonyoung felt his face redden with anxiety, his heart rate picking up. Worries of whether he truly did lose his lifelong friend riddled his mind. His fingers clutched at his jeans, gulping again as his nerves burned within him. 
"Hello?" A voice chimed through his phone, the familiar voice of his best friend wading into his ear, easing Soonyoung's frantic worries as a grin stretched on his face.
"Hello," Soonyoung responded, biting his lip as silence filled the other line. Just from assumptions alone, Seokmin must've pulled his phone away, getting a gander at the contact that called him, because a distant gasp sounded out before the voice was once more right at the mic. 
"Soonyoung!" He hollered, nearly bursting his eardrum as he laughed at his friend's reaction. "Holy shit, dude, what's up! It's been literal ages! How've you been?" 
"I'm good, I'm good," Soonyoung answered, looking down at his lap. "I just graduated."
"Oh, I'm talking to an educated man, I see," Seokmin noted, bringing a chuckle to Soonyoung. "Well, Sir Academia, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" 
"Well, I'm home." It was quiet for a moment, so quiet that Soonyoung believed his friend may have hung up, but then he chimed in moments later. 
"Wait, home home? Like, here home?" 
"I'm at my parents house right now–"
"Oh my God! Stay there! I'll be there in ten minutes, okay!" The man suddenly hung up, causing Soonyoung to break out into more laughs at his friend's manic behavior.
At least he hadn't lost him. It felt like a light weight was lifted from his shoulders. That his bond with Seokmin was strong enough to persevere through these years. He still regretted cutting off everyone, though was still incredibly relieved at such a development.
The moment Seokmin pulled up, he was practically dragging Soonyoung away, shoving him into his car after a dramatic hug, and driving off. 
"I'm taking you to everyone," Seokmin explained as they made their way through the town.
Soonyoung smiled at the sights they passed. Nothing had changed. As if he hadn't ever left. As if the town was frozen in time, waiting for his return to thaw back to the present. It was comforting, a constant in his life he could rely on. 
The first person they went to was Seungcheol, working at his mother's real estate agency. They had waited for him to look up from his desk, and when he met their eyes, his facade of professionalism evaporated, the suited man leaping to his feet and practically hopping over his desk to embrace Soonyoung. The others in the office looked to them with terror at the display, but that didn't stop Seungcheol from lifting his long lost friend in the air, hugging him nearly to death with a bright smile on his face. 
Their next stop was Jeonghan and Joshua's apartment, the two of them having off from their jobs for the day. Seokmin had knocked on their door, to which neither of them answered. Insisting that he knew they were in there, Seokmin continued to knock until a disgruntled Jeonghan finally whipped open the door, about to tell off the supposed loiterers at his door until he saw Soonyoung. The fanfare continued as Joshua came out, coming to investigate what all the ruckus was about, though inevitably joining alongside his roommate with welcoming Soonyoung back. 
This continued for the rest of the day practically, Seokmin dragging Soonyoung to every corner of the city, reuniting with his old friend group. Mingyu had regrettably grown even taller since they last spoke, Vernon's fashion sense had mellowed over the years, and Chan looked so grown, the sight of the young man almost bringing tears to Soonyoung's eyes.
"You really didn't have to do this for me, Seokmin. I was planning on just calling everyone eventually and planning meetups," Soonyoung explained as Seokmin drove them back from Chan's place. The sun was setting, the sky an orange pink hue as the day was nearing its end; a day well spent in Soonyoung's book. 
"No worries at all!" Seokmin assured, waving his hand in the air before returning it to the steering wheel. "It gives me time to hang out with my best friend who abandoned me all these years." Soonyoung rolled his eyes and sighed as Seokmin laughed. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I knew you were busy. You got your Master's pretty early, too."
"I did, I did." Soonyoung sighed. Rather than it being necessarily early, it was mainly right on time. Though it cost him so much to stay on this schedule. "It was difficult, especially being away from everyone." He paused, smiling as he thought back on the day. At the faces of his friends he hasn't seen in so long. He hadn't realized how much he missed them until he was there in front of them. Hearing them speak for the first time in years, seeing how they changed while he was away, seeing them become settled in their lives, finding that happiness everyone sought for. "I should've at least texted you."
"What'd I say?" Seokmin parked his car, turning his head to face Soonyoung. "No. Worries." He poked his finger into Soonyoung's side with each word. "We all understood, you were chasing your dreams. We wouldn't want anything different. And knowing you, you were bound to come back." Seokmin patted his friend on the shoulder.
"Thanks." Soonyoung smiled softly at the comforting words directed to him.
He had been so worried everyone would have been upset he just left them and never spoke again, but after today, he knew everyone missed him just as much as he missed them. 
Though through all the joy in him, past the relief he felt upon meeting his friends once more, one thought plagued his mind. 
"Hey," he began warily, attracting Seokmin's attention, "How's (y/n)?"
Seokmin grinned at the name, though not as ecstatic as his usual wide smile. More so one of familiarity, comfort, fondness.
"She's great, we just hung out last week. Her, Seungkwan, and I.'' Seokmin said, bringing a smile to Soonyoung's face. He was glad to hear that. That they all remained friends after he left. After he broke her heart, and left her behind. Before he could speak though, Seokmin continued, his words all but halting Soonyoung's every thought. "It's really hard to plan things with her since she has to adjust her schedule to fit both us and her kid, but she still makes the effort."
"Her... kid?" Soonyoung's voice was weak, barely even louder than the air conditioning hitting his face, but Seokmin heard nevertheless. He glanced at him in confusion before realization hit him, eyes widening and jaw dropping. 
"Oh, nobody told you!" He shouted in shock, glancing around the street they were on before swiftly recalculating his destination, making a U-turn all of a sudden. "Yeah, she has a daughter! Little Chaerim."
Soonyoung's face blanked, his chest tightening at the information relayed to him. 
She had a kid. So many things had changed during his time away, like Minghao taking up meditation, Jihoon becoming a famous producer, even Jeonghan adding more furniture to his pet rock's house. But (y/n) having a kid? 
For as long as he could remember, Soonyoung had the biggest crush on (y/n). Starting from their first meeting at the age of 11, his feelings only seemed to spiral deeper and deeper with every year until he had finally asked her out in the middle of highschool.
They were highschool sweethearts. The epitome of a perfect relationship. They never got into fights, unlike the other relationships around them which seemed to fizzle with the angst of teenage development. They were never jealous, having this undeniable trust in one another, enough to grant them comfort with one another from just the mere thought of the other, and no random addition of a person could tarnish that mentality. They were mature, treating their relationship as something which should be cherished and nurtured, never once treating the other disrespectfully or tarnishing the perfect bond they had. 
That is until after highschool, when Soonyoung was accepted into his college across the country. 
It all began crumbling after that. Doubt riddled his mind soon after.
Whether he could truly keep (y/n) happy from such a great distance. Could he manage a long distance relationship and his studies? Would he have to put one over the other? If he did, then his grades would tank, because he wouldn't have the heart to put his school before her in any scenario. Should he just abandon everything, throw away this idea of self fulfillment for love? Find a regular 9 to 5 to support him and (y/n)?  He'd stay with her, but at what cost? Soonyoung never wanted to work a job like that. To live a life where everyday, waking up felt like a task, and his only reprieve was the peace of sleep. It's why he was struggling with this debacle in the first place. 
Whether to put his happiness or her happiness first? 
Yet at the end of the day, he chose the former. He couldn't possibly give her the happy life she deserved if he himself was miserable. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he brought her any form of misery, like the lack of a devout husband. Someone she was forced to watch crumble with every passing day, nothing more than a shell of what he once was. His vibrancy extracted through the shackles of capitalism until he could no longer handle it. Until not only his will to be happy dissipated, but also his will to make her happy, gone like everything else. He couldn't condemn her to such a cruel inevitability. 
As much as it pained him to admit it, it would be much better for him to let her go, give her the chance to find the happiness she deserves, which clearly didn't belong to a monster like him.
And so he let her go.
He had been so distracted he hadn't even acknowledged Seokmin parking again in yet another unfamiliar apartment building. 
"We're here!" He announced, stepping out of the car excitedly. Soonyoung on the other hand stepped out warily, glancing around as if he'd see her waiting for him, glaring in disdain at the man who shattered her heart and left. 
All the while, Seokmin raved about Chaerim as they made their way to her apartment. He talked about how cute she is, how she's the sweetest thing he's ever seen, how Soonyoung would just love her. 
Yet her mere existence seemed to haunt Soonyoung, torment him the longer he knew of her existence. Because she stands as a testament of (y/n) moving on from him. 
Before he knew it, they stopped before a door.
It was just like any other along the narrow corridor, though it felt much more daunting to him, knowing who was behind it. 
"Watch this," Seokmin whispered excitedly, cracking his knuckles before placing both on the door. He began rapping a beat on the wood which went on for longer than any knock should . He then stepped back proudly, a smile on his face as he looked back at Soonyoung, patiently waiting for something to happen. They could hear muffled shouting through the door, growing louder and louder to the point that Soonyoung could now very clearly make out the voice to be saying "Uncle Seokmin!" on repeat.
Suddenly, the door swung open. Time seemed to stop as a tiny face peeked out, smiling brightly up at his friend who then crouched with outstretched arms. The girl had leapt into his arms, giggling as he lifted her up and hugged her. 
Soonyoung felt his breathing pick up, seeing the little girl buried in Seokmin's shirt. That little girl was the daughter of his true love. The one girl he had always adored. The girl he all but abandoned.
But she wasn't his daughter. 
And though that fact lingered over him  treacherously, reminding him of his past faults, reminding him that he could've had that had he chosen (y/n) at the end, he still attempted to push away his negative thoughts, offering the girl a smile as he waited for Seokmin to acknowledge him.
Once the enthusiasm subsided, Seokmin finally did turn to him again. 
"Chaerim, I'd like you to meet my friend, Soonyoung."
The girl looked up at him, peeking over from beneath Seokmin's chin at the strange man a few feet away from her. And as their eyes met, Soonyoung felt his heart all but collapse, watching two sharp, angular eyes peering at him curiously. Eyes which quirked upwards at their ends… Just like his. 
His expression dropped, the color of his skin draining as she revealed all of her face to him, and it felt as if Soonyoung were looking directly into a mirror. She stared at him so resolutely, his own panic seeming nonsensical from how calm she remained, merely resting against Seokmin as she continued to look at Soonyoung, observing as you would an animal exhibit. 
"Chaerim!" A voice hollered from inside the opened apartment. A person emerged from the hall within, making her way swiftly to the entry, exasperated as if this were a daily occurrence in her life. As the woman appeared at the door, Soonyoung realized who it was. 
Jihyo, (y/n)'s best friend. 
She looked to Seokmin and Chaerim for a moment, silently acknowledging that the situation is handled, before looking to Soonyoung, standing there starstruck with his mouth agape, glancing between Jihyo and Chaerim. 
Jihyo's face shifted from indifference at everything, to shock upon seeing Soonyoung, to then near terror, brows arched in surprise as she froze in place, much like Soonyoung at the moment. 
"Was it Seokmin?" Another voice resounded from the apartment. A soft, lull like voice which carried in the air, light and delicate with its tone as it hit Soonyoung, a familiarity which lit his nerves though also seemed to melt him into butter.
And then she appeared, rounding the same corner as Jihyo. Soonyoung felt his knees buckle, weak against her mere presence which seemed to dominate the entire room. She looked up, stopping mid step as she met Soonyoung's eyes, and regrettably to his disappointment, instant fear washed across her expression, a fact which seemed to stab at Soonyoung's heart. That he was no longer the one who brought her peace or comfort like he once did so long ago. That she looked to him as you would any unwelcomed stranger. 
"Is everyone okay?" Seokmin asked, the only person who wasn't in some stare down with another.
Yet before he could question it any further, Chaerim began squirming in his arms, crawling out of his embrace before bounding towards her mom. (y/n) hesitantly crouched, scooping the young girl up and into her arms, who then began whispering into her ear, legs kicking excitedly. With a shaky breath, (y/n) smiled to her guests.
"Seokmin!" She greeted first, voice wavering as she approached the door. "And Soonyoung! Please, why don't you all come in." Her hand landed on Jihyo's shoulder, snapping her out of her stupor before she backed away, allowing the boys to enter the home. 
Jihyo muttered a brief, "excuse us," before she was dragging the two girls down the hall. Soonyoung looked worriedly to their retreating forms.
The way (y/n) said his name.
She once said it with such adoration. Calling out to him from across the courtyard at school, referring to him in the middle of a conversation, whispering to him late in the night when they embraced one another. His name alone once felt so loved because she said it. Because she spoke love into it. With every syllable, with every roll of her tongue, as if speaking an entire ballad of her affections, though it was merely his name.
Now she spoke his name tentatively. As if it were poison on the tip of her tongue. As if she were stepping through a field of landmines. As if it was taboo to be spoken. 
He felt tears brimming at his eyes. Selfish tears, ones which shouldn't be shed because he condemned himself to this reality. He was the one who pushed her away. He was the one who left her home, ignoring the silent cries she left behind, ignoring the way his heart fought tooth and nail to turn back and return to her. He was the one who got onto that plane, drowning in his own sorrows as he flew further and further away from her. Away from his other half.
He once believed everyone was a whole, and that some people just made one larger whole once together, and would stay as their original wholes once separated. Yet here he was, a broken half of a man, whose other piece was left shattered and abandoned by him. 
And he still felt like that. He could feel his dormant heart stirring alive with pointless hope, beating against his rib cage as if wanting to break free and reunite with her. Yet like he always did, he ran away, walking over to her living room and sitting beside Seokmin.
"Cute, isn't she?" Seokmin nudged Soonyoung, a warm smile on his face as he referred to the young girl. "God, I just want to squish her cheeks all day. So round. Doesn't she remind you of a hamster?"
"No," Soonyoung answered faster than he had intended, shocking even himself with his thoughts. That he wasn't a hamster, so she couldn't possibly be a hamster either. He shook his head, attempting to clear away his assumptions as Seokmin chuckled. 
"You're probably right. That won't stop me from calling her my hamster though," Seokmin continued. Soonyoung leant forward onto his knees, steadying his breathing before the girls would eventually return. "You know, I'm her Godfather." 
Soonyoung looked over to him, brows furrowed in intrigue. 
"Yeah, (y/n) insisted," He continued. "I was one of the only people who knew about her pregnancy, so I was taking care of her with Jihyo for those few months." Soonyoung felt his eyes water. The thought that she was struggling so much while he was away at college. And he knew absolutely nothing. "I was even the one who drove her to the hospital when she went into labor, cause Jihyo was working at the time."
There was some relief in him at this. That she wasn't entirely alone. That though he left her behind, she still had others to care for her. He felt obligated to thank Seokmin for his efforts. For being there for her when he wasn't. For taking care of this child like she was his own. 
Chaerim.
Soonyoung was about to question him further, about to ask him more of his dear god daughter, until Jihyo appeared from the halls, hands clasped together with a nervous laugh resounding from her. 
"Okay, hello everybody, how are we feeling?" She asked, sitting on the loveseat beside them. "Sorry, we're all understandably shocked to see Soonyoung, you know?"
"No, we completely understand," Seokmin waved her off. "We should've told you guys on our way here, I just got excited." He nodded towards Soonyoung beside him. "He didn't know about Chaerim! Can you believe that?" 
"Insane," Jihyo responded, her voice monotonous as she stared blankly back at the two. 
Soon after, the final members of the party came out once more, Chaerim immediately making her way over to Seokmin again. He brought the girl to his lap, brushing back her black hair as (y/n) took a seat in front of them on her coffee table. 
"Hi," She greeted them all, though her eyes landed on none other than Soonyoung. 
"Hi," He responded, voice soft, afraid he would startle her and she'd run off. He wouldn't blame her though. He did the exact same thing. 
"Seokmin, let's go to the kitchen." Jihyo began walking off, Seokmin following after. Chaerim was peeking over his shoulder, still staring right at Soonyoung up until she disappeared into the kitchen. 
"How have you been?" (y/n) continued. He stared momentarily at the kitchen before turning back to her with a wry smile. 
"I'm okay," He answered. "I just graduated. Master's in software engineering." 
"That's amazing, congratulations!" She noted, a smile spreading on her face, though not reaching her eyes. "I'm happy to hear that. You must be so proud." 
Soonyoung winced at her words, because she seemed to unknowingly see right through him. She may not be fully aware, but he was filled with doubt. Yes, he achieved what he set out for. He got his Master's, he's got the job offer, he's got his life laid out before him, and all he had to do was live it out accordingly. Yet he was full of doubt. Doubt because he was still riddled with sorrow, wondering if things would've been better had he given up on this plan. If he could've accommodated, still involved (y/n) in his life, and just worked a little harder to keep her beside him through the long distance relationship. 
At the end of it all, that unhappiness he believed he'd have working a basic 9 to 5 equated to the unhappiness he felt living a life without (y/n). 
"Soonyoung?" She asked, startling him back to reality. 
"I'm sorry. I zoned out." She softly chuckled, nodding at his words with a soft affirmation. She looked down to her lap, fiddling with her fingers as silence encompassed the two. And as much as he didn't want to ask, as much as he knew it was inappropriate for the time being, he couldn't help it. He couldn't fight back the curiosity flooding his brain. "You have a daughter…"
She froze for a moment, hands wringing together before she looked up at him with a smile. 
"I do, yes." (y/n) pulled out her phone before handing it to him, showing her wallpaper which was Chaerim, beaming up at the camera, her eyes narrowed into slits. "Her name is Chaerim, as you may already know." His heart softened, seeing the bright little girl practically radiating like the sun. He understood why Seokmin seemed to love her so much. Because he was gradually already falling for her and he hasn't had one conversation with the girl. 
"She's beautiful," Soonyoung commented, handing the phone back to (y/n), smiling widely at his words. "What's she like?"
"Well…" (y/n) started, breaking off into a brief chuckle as she thought of the girl in question. "She's… something. Very hyperactive." (y/n) looked down at her phone, fondly gazing at the picture once more. "She's silly. There's never a dull day with her." She paused, looking for a second more before putting her phone away and sighing. "So mature. It feels like I'm talking to a little adult at times." Soonyoung smiled, seeing how much (y/n) loved her. 
"Can I meet her?" He asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. He was afraid, scared to meet this little girl. He didn't know what exactly he feared, but his thoughts were incessant.
It was either he was meeting the child of (y/n) and some guy who came and replaced him, or he was meeting the child of him and (y/n). 
And as (y/n) called out for the girl and she emerged from the kitchen with those familiar sharp eyes of hers, Soonyoung had an inkling he knew it was the latter scenario. 
"Chaerim, I'd like you to meet Soonyoung," (y/n) spoke, gesturing to the person as she said their name. "Soonyoung, this is Chaerim." 
He slid off the couch, crouching onto his knees before her with a smile on his face. 
"Hi Chaerim. It's nice to meet you." 
The little girl stood there, staring right at him, expression blank and unreadable. It almost intimidated him, the way she seemed to stare right into his soul as if it was child's play. She stepped closer to him, face to face, her gaze unwavering, as if she hadn't an ounce of fear for him. (y/n) and Soonyoung watched her with confusion, though allowed her to continue to inch closer and closer to Soonyoung until she pressed her tiny lips against his nose, pulling away after planting a soft kiss to him. 
"Chaerim, what are you doing?" (y/n) spoke in a panic, pulling her daughter against her. "You just met Soonyoung, we don't kiss strangers."
"We don't?" She asked. The first words she has spoken in his presence.
"No, we don't– How many strangers have you kissed?" (y/n) asked incredulously, eyes wide at the girl's question. Without answering, Chaerim approached Soonyoung again, his face reddened at her kiss. 
"Hello, my name is Chaerim," she greeted, voice louder than necessary, though still getting her point across. She held out her hand to him, and he hesitantly took it in his own. His lips twitched into a smile, thumb brushing over her smooth skin as he reciprocated her greeting. In some way, he knew. The moment he touched her, he knew she was his. 
Though before he could say anything else, Jihyo appeared. 
"(y/n), it's 8," she stated. Like that, (y/n)'s fond smile at the exchange dissipated, and she snapped out of her daydream at the time. 
"Chaerim, we need to give you a bath," she stated, about to stand up before Jihyo stepped in. 
"It's okay, Seokmin and I can prepare her for bed," she insisted, lifting the girl into her arms with a small huff. "You guys can keep talking." Jihyo briefly looked to Soonyoung, nodding at him in acknowledgement before turning around and disappearing down the hall, Seokmin trailing behind after waving to Soonyoung. 
Once they were alone, Soonyoung climbed back onto the couch, staring at (y/n) whose eyes darted everywhere but to him. She was nervous, which saddened Soonyoung. He remembered how she once relied on him for comfort during times like this, yet now he was the source of those worries. He just wanted to bring her to him, remind her of his undying love for her, the same love which hasn't waned since the moment he left her. Yet he understood. He understood she needed time. She needed space from him. She needed time to think after he just suddenly came back into her life. 
Though yet again, his impulsivity came through, far too curious to merely ignore the elephant in the room.
"(y/n)..." He started, tilting his head down to meet her gaze now staring at the floor between them. She continued to avoid him, eyes shifting away once he entered her peripheral vision. "(y/n), please." 
There was a desperation in his voice, this weakness in his tone that startled (y/n), loosened her resolve some as she finally peeked up at him. Her eyes were glassy, her lip quivering as she met his gaze, this pleading stare greeting her as they finally looked at one another. Truly looked at one another.
The sun was setting, casting this deep orange glow into the apartment. A myriad of colors danced across her face, the warmth of the sunset seeping into her skin. Ethereal, Soonyoung thought to himself. How beautiful his beloved (y/n) was. Perhaps it was the time spent apart, but Soonyoung swore she seemed to radiate even more now than she ever had before. As if with every passing of the sun, she seemed to blossom more and more, this breathtaking flower before him that he had left behind. 
"Talk to me. Please."
She blinked at his words, tears beginning to well up along her waterline. Though he could very clearly see that anguish in her eyes, she still attempted to play it off, breathing out a chuckle as she shrugged nonchalantly at his request. 
"What's there to say?" 
Dismissive. She looked away the moment she finished her sentence, eyes once more skirting around him, avoiding him. He winced, this surprisingly sharp pain stabbing at his heart. And yet it only encouraged him to pursue her more. 
"So much. (y/n), it's been years. Please, tell me anything. Tell me about your parents, your job, Jihyo." At this point, he had leant so close to her that their breaths were intermingling, warmth brushing against their faces from the proximity, yet to them, two long lost lovers who hadn't spoken in what felt like a lifetime, the space was anything but discomforting. A welcoming sensation that had the tips of his fingers itching to touch her, any part of her, anywhere she was willing to offer him. His eyes opened, glassy gaze once more seeking out her own as she took in a shaky breath, overwrought with the surge of emotions that came with Soonyoung's presence.
Tell me about Chaerim.
He wanted to ask so badly. The question was at the tip of his tongue, begging to be spoken. Yet upon the first break of tears cascading down her face, he knew he had already pushed her too far for now. 
Once her tears spilled, so did his, a never ending stream of moisture seeping out of his eyes, his sobs choked back upon hearing her muted sniffles. And to make matters worse, he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't gather her defeated body into his arms. He couldn't wipe her tears away or kiss at the trail they'd leave behind. He couldn't hum her favorite songs to banish her sadness away. Because unlike the other times, he wasn't hers and she wasn't his. At this point, they were no more estranged than two strangers.
His hands shook by his side, forcing himself back from holding her to him. He had no place to do so. He was nothing to her anymore. It took every fiber of his being to separate him from where he was, leaning back onto the couch with a rough sigh, jaw clenched as he attempted to will away his tears. (y/n) similarly followed suit, her hand pressed against her mouth as if to quell the cries that wanted to break free. And they remained that way for what felt like an eternity, silencing their anguish on their own. The solitude felt like a stone pressing down on him, an aching reminder of what their relationship had eventually boiled down to. 
They were childhood sweethearts. Ever since he could remember, he'd held a sweet spot for the girl next door. His friends had teased him relentlessly, the adults in his life equally tormenting him with the premise of one day marrying (y/n). So it was no shocker when he had confessed to her one fateful evening in the park by their neighborhood. What did come as a shock was when she had almost immediately reciprocated his feelings, dragging him into a bone crushing hug as she giggled away into his chest.
Seungkwan hadn't believed him the next day, giving him a once over with a raised eyebrow. His hair was frizzy with damage from repetitive bleaching, his clothes hung loosely on his lanky body, and his smile was obscured by an array of multicolored bands on his braces. Yet it only further proved her genuine affections for the boy.
They say love is blind, but it seemed like she had revealed to him a whole new plethora of shades never before seen by the human eye. The sky was bluer when he was with her, grass greener as they laid together in the field, the orange of his tiger plushies felt more vibrant whenever she cuddled one of them. 
And even now, it still held true, his atmosphere intensifying in her presence just from her sitting there in front of him. She brought him such anguish, unearthing memories he had once tried so adamantly to bury away, yet she also brought this unfathomable peace in his heart, soothing the storm that had plagued his soul for the past six years in college. The thought was what finally calmed his tears, leaving dried streaks across his face. She had yet to stop her own. 
"(y/n)." She finally spared him a wary glance, that same storm which racked his being now whirling in her irises.
In a much softer tone, he called out her name again, desperation laced in his voice, and perhaps even in his gaze, because just from looking at him, (y/n)'s resolve seemed to dissipate into thin air. With a quivering lip and another bout of tears welling up in her eyes, she found herself shifting over to the couch, collapsing into Soonyoung's arms with a loud, agonizing sob.
Her body quaked in his arms as he finally held her again, his face burying into her hair and breathing in her scent. Her arms had wrapped around his torso, fingers clenched desperately into his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer to her. He could feel the warmth of her tears seeping into the material of his top, attempting to coax more tears out of him, yet he remained as is, striving to keep his strength for the both of them in this moment. 
"You left me," she cried into his shoulder, voice wrought with unwavering sorrow. "You broke my heart." That familiar lump began forming at the base of Soonyoung's throat, yet he swallowed away the threat of tears once more, simply opting to drag her closer into his frame.
He shut his eyes, his breaths heavy and ragged as he took in her despondency, feeling firsthand how his capricious actions had not only destroyed himself, but also the love of his life. 
"I'm sorry," he whispered, voice broken as he spoke through his own misery. "I'm so sorry, (y/n). I could apologize for an eternity and then some, and it would never amount to the regret I feel." His hand rubbed up and down her back, attempting to repress at least some of her sadness at the moment. "I thought… I thought this would be better for you. You didn't deserve to suffer in a long distance relationship. I thought it would be better to let you go so you can actually experience the fulfilling relationship you deserve."
"That's so fucking stupid," she sobbed out, each syllable sounding forced out through the exhaustion already setting in from her crying session. 
"I know."
"You broke my heart, you asshole."
"I know." She had mumbled out a few more indiscernible words that had intertwined with her next bout of cries, until eventually it had dissolved into nothing. The tight grip she had on Soonyoung had loosened, her face once buried in his chest now lolled loosely against his shoulder, and the quivering of her body now replaced by the gentle rise and fall of her steady breathing. And with her now silently sleeping away, he took the opportunity by himself to let out his own tears once more, littering the top of her head with soft kisses as he wallowed in his own pitiful state. Embracing the girl he had abandoned and broken, begging for forgiveness as if he deserved anything from her. His apologies fell upon deaf ears as she slept, yet it hadn't deterred him from continuously whispering his pleas to her. 
The only thing that seemed to stop his mantra was Seokmin squeezing his shoulder. 
"Hey Soon," he called out quietly, snapping him out of his daze as he looked up at his friend. "Let's head home. You guys had enough for the day. There's always tomorrow."
Soonyoung nodded, rising to his feet with (y/n) in his arms as Seokmin guided him to her bedroom. Soonyoung spared her one last glance as he laid her there, brushing back her hair and stroking her cheek, taking in her peaceful expression once more before departing. Seokmin was at the entrance with Jihyo already, the two talking to one another in a low voice, as if the tension of before still resided even with (y/n) fast asleep. 
Upon Soonyoung's arrival, their conversation faded into nothing, Seokmin offering the man a gentle smile upon taking in his beaten form. 
"Hey buddy, how are we feeling?" Soonyoung's silence was answer enough, staring at his friend blankly with red eyes and a puffy face. "Ah, that's good, that's good. Like I said, there's always tomorrow. Let's get you home now, yeah?" Seokmin bid Jihyo goodbye with one last nod before heading out the door.
Before Soonyoung could fully walk out the door, his body halted in its spot, standing at the threshold of the apartment with Jihyo staring up at him confusedly. 
"Chaerim," he spoke, voice gravelly from his earlier happenings. "Is she mine?" 
He didn't know what brought this upon him. In any other instance, he'd be horrified at the sudden audacity he obtained to have asked such an illicit question. Yet right now, he was numb. His body ached. His heart felt drained beyond reparation. He felt like nothing. So what was there to lose with such a risky move?
Jihyo was silent for another moment, until she shook her head out of the corner of his eye. 
"No," she stated, voice weak as she looked at the defeated man before her. "No, she's not. I'm sorry."
Soonyoung shut his eyes, nodding at her words before fully walking out, meeting up with Seokmin at the elevator. 
It was an answer he had anticipated, one that was honestly expected, yet somewhere deep in his heart, he had truly thought she was his daughter. That she was the product of his and (y/n)'s love. That he possibly still had a chance with (y/n), as long as that fragment of their relationship still existed in this world. Yet it was all hopeful wishing. 
Even long after Seokmin dropped Soonyoung off at his parent's house, bidding the man goodbye and promising to return tomorrow, the events of the day still weighed heavily upon him. And even after shutting his eyes and going to sleep, the memories of (y/n) tormented him throughout the night. Illusions of what could have been had he chosen her at the end. The happy life he could have had with (y/n) in his arms. Chaerim could have been his. He could have had a daughter as beautiful as her. Yet he had given it all up for a piece of paper.
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The last person he had seen that night was Seokmin, and he had also wound up being the first person he saw when he woke up the next morning.
"Soonyoung," he called out, shaking the man's shoulders until he stirred from his slumber. "Time to wake up." 
The aforementioned man did not look his best, to say the least. Eyes completely bloodshot, face puffy beyond recognition, and his usual sanguine demeanor was depleted until he sat there as nothing more than a breathing human. The living embodiment of the contrast between living and surviving. 
Though Seokmin didn't seem too perturbed by his friend's ragged appearance, merely cooing as he patted down the disheveled mane on Soonyoung's head. 
"You ready to get back into the ring today?" His voice was chipper, comparable to that of a kindergarten teacher to their students, yet it had little to no effect on Soonyoung who grumbled in response to his patronizingly toned question. 
Seokmin stood there as Soonyoung dragged his feet about the room, tugging on whatever clothes he could find, brushing his teeth as he combed his hair, attempting to stay awake through Seokmin's droning dialogue in the background. 
"I got everyone's schedule for today. Mingyu and Vernon have the day off. Chan gets off later on today, so he could join us whenever. Seungkwan and Junhui said they couldn't come today because they're working, but Joshua literally has the closing shift and said he'd come around at midnight, so I think they're just not committed enough, you know?
"Jeonghan and Minghao have not responded to me yet, but Jeonghan literally posted on Instagram yesterday, so I know he's ignoring me. Seungcheol and Wonwoo said no for today, but they are available later on this week. Did I forget anybody? I feel like I'm forgetting someone?" 
(y/n). 
He wanted to ask how she was. If she had fared well after last night. How she felt this morning, waking up after such an eventful night. How Chaerim was doing. What the girls were up to this morning. What they'd be doing later on. If (y/n) still wore blue every Wednesday and acted like it wasn't an actual routine of hers because she didn't think anyone would notice. If he could see her again today. 
"Jihoon!" Seokmin snapped his fingers upon realizing, laughing to himself soon after. "Jihoon is busy right now, but he'll join us later."
Their conversation continued once they were in Seokmin's car and driving off.
"So we're going to pick up Mingyu and Vernon and head out for breakfast. At around 12, Jihoon said he'd come join us, so maybe we can take a walk around downtown for old time's sake. At 2, I have to pick up Chaerim and drop her off at Jihyo's, but Chan should–"
"Chaerim?" Soonyoung's eyebrows had risen at the mention of the girl's name, turning to face Seokmin with sudden fascination at the schedule. "You pick up Chaerim from school?"
"Well, from daycare, yeah," Seokmin responded, eyes still trained on the street, but still with that soft grin plastered to his face, the casual air he has when talking about the girl stirring this envious feeling within Soonyoung. "Jihyo gets out of work at 2, but the daycare is pretty out of place on her route home, so I pick up Chaerim and hand her to Jihyo. And then at 5, (y/n) gets out of work and she retrieves the child from Jihyo and they head home." 
Soonyoung sat there enraptured at Seokmin's words, nodding and absorbing everything said as if he himself would need the knowledge in the coming future. Seokmin kept talking afterwards, continuing where he left off regarding Chan's and Josh's arrival before they had finally reached their destination. 
This 24/7 breakfast joint they'd frequent as they grew up, Attacca. They'd eat waffles there as a child with their families, eat waffles after school while procrastinating on doing their homework, eat waffles on snow days when they had nothing better to do, eat waffles at 2 am after late night parties at each other's houses. And even now as the four of them sat together to catch up, they ate those exact same waffles. 
"You still have the high score on Galaga?" Soonyoung gaped as Vernon nodded cockily, leaning back against the chipped leather of the booth they sat at, arms raised triumphantly while he basked in the glory of his achievements. 
"The undefeated champion still reigns to this day." Vernon began waving to his imaginary fans, blowing kisses and posing for photos as Mingyu grimaced at the overplayed fantasy happening before him. 
"He goes to that same rundown laundromat every month to make sure he hasn't been bested, as if kids are even still going there." Soonyoung chuckled at Mingyu's words, which had supposedly gone over Vernon's head as he continued to fantasize about the glories of victory, muttering to himself about how he would love to accept Oprah's invitation to her show. "Though on the less pathetic side of things, my restaurant is doing very well."
"I can't believe you actually own a restaurant." Soonyoung took a sip from his chocolate milk, humming in amusement at the thought of Chef Mingyu. "That's insane. Congrats, man." 
"Thank you very much."
"Yeah, Mingyu said he'd serve us for free next time we go," Seokmin quickly added, earning a kick under the table from Mingyu himself. 
"Wait, is Mingyu finally feeding us for free?" Vernon asked, mouth agape as he finally snapped out of whatever trance he had propelled himself into minutes earlier. 
"No, Mingyu is not feeding you freeloaders." Mingyu elbowed Vernon as he spoke, glaring at the group before him with disgust. "You get discounts at most, but I'd go bankrupt if you all came to my restaurant for free." 
"You hear that, boys, dinner at Mingyu's tonight." Seokmin tossed his hand forward, immediately receiving a high five from Vernon on command as the two continued to goad Mingyu. With a roll of his eyes, he redirected his attention to Soonyoung, offering the man an excited smile. 
"So, Soonyoung, what's up with you? Six years on your own, new degree, job offer. You've got so much going on for you!"
"Thanks." Soonyoung smiled, stirring his straw in his drink absentmindedly as his eyes lowered to the table's surface. "I'll be off again in a few weeks presumably. For that job offer."
"I don't know if this is dumb of me to ask, but what does an engineer do?" Vernon questioned, shoveling another load of waffle into his mouth.
Soonyoung pouted as he thought about the question, because to be fair, he doesn't even know what his job will entail. Six years in college. He's learned his way around a computer. He knows how to fix things now. That's pretty much all he can say, because to be honest, he doesn't know what awaits him in the future. He doesn't know what finally entering the field of his career entails for him. He doesn't know if it'll be what he had anticipated out of such an intensive career. If it'll prove the regrets that stir within him wrong, prove that it was worth leaving everything behind to pursue. 
Suddenly, Chaerim and (y/n) came to mind. A little glimpse of them together popped into his head, (y/n) chiding her daughter who had just planted a kiss onto his nose. With those two girls remaining in his mind, he was beginning to seriously doubt that last presumption of his.
Because no amount of money in the world could possibly top the exhilarating feeling that settled at the base of his heart when he was with them both yesterday. 
"I don't know," Soonyoung announced, rather proudly regarding the circumstances, causing the lot to burst into laughter at his own confusion. 
"Well, hopefully it comes easy to you," Mingyu spoke, bringing his coffee mug up to his lips for a sip. "Who would have thought the tech challenged Soonyoung would become a software engineer of all things."
"I wasn't that bad."
"You typed like a grandma after her fifth shot of tequila," Vernon interjected with a shake of his head. "We all know (y/n) was the one who had prepared all of your presentations for you." 
Soonyoung nervously chuckled at the mention of her name. His technical ex girlfriend, as painful as it sounded. And as true as that was, so was Vernon's statement. 
They'd be lying on his bed, her laptop in between them as she helped organize his notes and points on one PowerPoint. She'd type away, showing him different things the program offered, putting in her own input on designing, and he'd merely sit there and listen, head tucked away in the nook of her neck as he dozed off to her gentle voice. He'd fall asleep while she worked, and she'd wake him up by littering kisses all over his face. He'd rehearse his presentation for her alongside the PowerPoint, just to show how her work would not be going to waste. She'd applaud him, congratulating him even though he had done the bare minimum, but it felt good nevertheless. To be doted upon by the girl he loves the most, falling asleep in her arms the night before his project, that good luck kiss before he'd enter class that he swore was the key to his passing grades. 
Soonyoung would wait for (y/n) after class to tell her how it went, and the smile she'd bless him with was like the cherry on top of it all. This big, gorgeous smile that was so bright and happy for him and him alone. 
As if punishment upon him, for even daring to derive even a shred of happiness from a past memory, the blissful image of (y/n)'s smile had been torn away from him, instead replaced by one of their last moments together. 
It was in his room as he was packing away his clothes for college. (y/n) sat on his bed, folding whatever she could and neatly organizing it into his luggage whilst filling the quietude with her thoughts. 
Though Soonyoung couldn't really recall much of what she was saying that day. He was too into his own head. He was too distracted by his own thoughts plaguing his psyche. Thoughts that he had initially written off as intrusive ones that would soon fade away, though they remained recurrent, sprouting forth practically every moment he spent with (y/n) until every waking second of his life revolved around those thoughts and those thoughts alone. 
(y/n) managed to snap him back into reality as she began directing her voice towards him. 
"You'll have to text me when you get situated over there!" She gushed, far more excited for him than he was for himself. "I mean, you'll text me when you get there of course, but you have to text me when everything's settled and you have some spare time. I can fly over and meet you." She slipped off his bed, shuffling over to him and wrapping him in a hug. Soonyoung naturally reciprocated it, arms embracing her against him, relishing in the warmth and comfort that came with holding her. That keen familiarity that he'd never grow weary of no matter the distance or the time which passed. But even so, even with her presence serving as an anchor for him, his mind was elsewhere, drifting far from reason and compiling what he could only describe as utter nonsense now. 
"(y/n)," he muttered aloud, somehow hoping she wouldn't hear him even though he spoke right by her ear. She hummed, cursing him into finishing what he had started. "How do you feel about all of this?" 
"About what? College?" He hesitantly pulled away from her, arms loosely holding her as he took in her appearance once more, as if needing the momentary motivation to continue with whatever he was doing. 
"About me going to college. About me leaving everything behind." His eyes flickered about her face, tension settling in his eyebrows as his emotions were already beginning to seep through his facade. "About me leaving you behind."
"That's a weird way of putting it," she laughed dismissively at his words, though still hummed in thought. "I feel… conflicted." His arms strained for a second, briefly gripping onto (y/n) as she paused for consideration. "Of course I'd love to have you with me or me with you, but we can't. At least not right now." She tilted her head with a pout forming on her lips before she smiled resolutely. "Life has other things planned for us right now. You're off to do great things, to study and get a career like you always wanted, and I'll be here, finding some sort of stability like I've always wanted.
"But that's okay," she tugged him along with her to the bed, seating him on the edge and cozying herself against him, head resting on his shoulder with her arms draped over him. "Because we'll always be here supporting one another. I'll be right here when you're ready to come back." 
He hadn't even realized he was crying until he felt a tear brush past his lip, her words being the nail in the coffin for those incessant anxieties that had tormented him for weeks now. 
"(y/n), I think we should break up." 
The words felt like poison in his mouth, churning his stomach until it was wrought with absolute disgust. There was a conflict in his body, one that had him beating himself for having even uttered said cursed words, but it was too late. He had spoken his thoughts. 
(y/n) had stiffened in his arms, silent as Soonyoung battled with himself, but then she slowly pulled away from him. Her eyes were blank at first, face stoic whilst analyzing his expression for any sign of humor or any indication that what he said was merely a cruel joke. But it wasn't. 
"Soonyoung, what are you trying to do? Talk to me before making such a large decision like that on your own." Even at such a young age, she was so mature. It was something he had always admired about her. How level headed she was, how calm and patient she became whenever he was off his hinges. She continued to show that maturity of hers, concealing whatever emotions she may be feeling and instead waiting for Soonyoung to calm down enough to talk. 
"I…" He had begun, eyes straying to his lap when he felt his words get caught in his throat, his body quaking with an incoming sob, though quickly collecting himself, clearing his throat of any obstruction and continuing. "You have been the light of my life for as long as I can remember. I've loved you for longer than I could even talk. You are the love of my life, and that's very clear to see." He paused, gathering his thoughts once more. (y/n) remained where she sat, hands having slid down to his biceps where they tentatively rested. "And all I've ever wanted was your happiness… But I think I will become that obstacle for you. I will be the thing preventing you from being happy."
"Why would you ever say that about yourself, Soonyoung?" She cupped his face, bringing his gaze back to her intimidatingly serious one. "You can't be in the way of my happiness if you are my happiness."
"(y/n), we've never been away from each other for even a day." Soonyoung all but wept, eyes blurring with tears as he laughed incredulously at his own statement. School field trips, family road trips, even girl scout camping included them both, Soonyoung somehow getting away with disguising as his sister when they were all children. "I don't think we'll be able to make it long distance."
"Who says we can't?"
"I do." His voice was broken, as was the rest of him, barely able to hold himself where he sat. (y/n) was quiet for a moment, in complete shock of what was happening in front of her. 
"Why are you so confident we can't do long distance? Sure, we've never been apart, but who's to say we can't survive away from each other? Soonyoung…" Yet again, (y/n) found herself redirecting his attention back to her, making sure he could see the absolute resolve in her eyes. "I love you. And I know you love me just as much. Isn't that enough reassurance?" 
Soonyoung could see how serious she was. He could see how much she was holding back, wanting to also burst into tears alongside him at such a scary moment in their lives, but even so, he had his mind settled. 
"No, it's not." She flinched at his words, her hands suddenly pulled away from him as if his skin were fire. She was taken aback, eyes wavering as Soonyoung began rubbing away his tears. 
"Why are you acting this way? You're not even giving us a chance. You're acting as if everything we've built together was for nothing. As if all those years together were just child's play when you literally mean the world to me." 
"(y/n), I love you," he interjected, shutting his eyes and taking a deep, final breath. "I love so much. You are everything to me. And I know I can't live without you. But I can't bear to see you lose yourself to a long distance relationship like this."
"Soonyoung–"
"You deserve a fulfilling and present love. A love that you won't have to struggle with time differences just to video call, a love where you don't have to be decided over homework, a love that's just as invigorating and perfect as you, and I'm no longer a viable option." 
He didn't know what had done it—which of his words had finally broken her fortitude, but before he knew it, he heard sniffling beside him, and when he finally met her gaze again, there were tears running down her face, lips downturned whilst staring back at him in disappointment. 
"Who even are you anymore?" He stayed quiet at her question, not really knowing how to even answer this if he had wanted to. Physically, he was still Soonyoung, but so much had happened in such a short duration of time that he felt like his soul lay dormant deep within him. He didn't know what entity of sorts took over that compelled him to act in such a way and feel these doubts he's never felt before, but there was no changing him at this point. 
And within seconds, this strong, independent girl Soonyoung had grown to love with all of his heart had deteriorated with defeat. She pulled her hands away from his in lieu of shielding her face, leaving cold pockets on his body from where her touch had once resided. He felt a stab at his heart as she silently wept to herself, a sight he rarely if ever saw from her. And to know that he was the reason she was like this killed him inside.
Yet even so, he still didn't take back his words. He didn't apologize for destroying their relationship so heartlessly. He just sat there, watching her, knowing this would be the last image of her he'd see before flying the next morning.
And as greedy as it was—as absolutely cold and insensitive as it was for him to do—he slid closer to her, hands hovering over her wrists for a second more, as if giving himself one more chance to stop, but it seemed as if his body had now begun running on autopilot. Latching onto her hands, he gently tugged them away from her face, cupping her cheeks so as to have her looking at him. 
She was crushed, tears an endless stream of moisture seeping from her now reddened eyes, facial muscles contorted with sadness. It was a sight that absolutely destroyed Soonyoung, yet still it was undeniable in his mind: she was as beautiful as she had always been and always would be.
Perhaps it was with that thought, that subtle reminder that he truly did and always would love her for who she was, that compelled him to lean forward, pressing his lips onto hers one last time, as if one last proclamation of his eternal love for her. His eyes had shut, tears slipping away from him as he brought her closer to him, pouring out every ounce of affection he could, hoping that what his words failed to convey, his kiss would translate—show her that somewhere in him, Soonyoung still resided; that she hadn't lost him entirely yet. 
She had kissed him back, hands threading through his hair and pulling him closer, afraid that if she had let go, he'd disappear from her forever. 
And her fears had proven true. After that last night together, tangled in each other's limbs, their final moments expressing their love for one another, he had left, leaving behind a kiss on her forehead and his heart now in her hands as he flew across the country, an emotionless void as he pursued what he thought he'd always wanted. 
His demeanor had changed greatly during breakfast, something Seokmin had noticed almost immediately. The boys agreed to meet up later when the others were available, agreeing to hit up some places around the city together. Seokmin was driving Soonyoung home for the time being, refraining from mentioning his solemn expression as he sat in the passenger's seat quietly. The man had too many thoughts running through his mind at all times. It was something that Soonyoung had always dealt with. They'd be talking about one thing, and within a second, Soonyoung would have changed the route of their conversation because he suddenly remembered something. Though now rather than his silly little conversational segues growing up, his thoughts seemed a dark place that no one would want to venture into. Seokmin just hoped that their friends would be able to distract him some later tonight. 
Once they pulled into the driveway of Soonyoung's parent's house, they both stepped out of the vehicle, making their way to the entrance until Seokmin's phone began ringing. 
"Hello?" He swiftly answered as Soonyoung fished for his keys. "What? Wait– hold on– Grandma, I– Slow down for a second, slow down. Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?" Soonyoung turned around, eyes widening in shock as he looked at a very concerned and confused Seokmin. "Okay, I'll be right there. Just stay put." 
"What happened?" 
"She got into a car accident. She said it's a minor one, but still." 
"Of course, I understand, go over there," Soonyoung insisted, already ushering Seokmin over to his car. 
"Wait, Soonyoung, wait." They both stopped for a moment, facing each other with equally troubled expressions. "It's almost 2 o'clock." Soonyoung's mouth dropped immediately, hand resting on his forehead as he began to truly process Seokmin's plight. 
"Chaerim…" 
"I know it's a lot to ask of you, but could you pick her up for me?" Seokmin asked, already unlocking his car as he waited for Soonyoung's answer, which came seconds later in vigorous nods. It brought a small smile to his face, seeing some form of life once more in his friend's eyes. "Great, thank you so much, dude. I'll text you the address. I owe you big time."
Once Seokmin had left, Soonyoung immediately rushed into the house to grab his keys before driving off. He must've broken quite a few traffic laws considering he made it to the store, bought a car seat, and installed it, all with just minutes to spare before 2.
He double checked the booster seat once more, shaking it around to ensure it was latched on safely, before he backed away with a huff, turning his attention to her daycare he was parked in front of. 
A quaint little location with trees and flowers littered around the front, a sign of alternating primary colors reading 'Little Sun Daycare' under a rainbow arch with clouds on either side. From where he stood, he could see a large, open backyard with all the things to occupy a child's attention span. Though it was barren, so he knew they were all likely nestled away safely inside. 
He rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on the front of his jeans before pulling the door open, wincing at the loud chime over his head once he saw what he had walked into. About a dozen or so children, all scattered across the floor with blankets and pillows as a faint lullaby played on loop behind them. He stood there awkwardly, frozen in place with his eyes darting from each and every child, checking to see if any stirred, though luckily it seemed he'd gotten away with it. 
Another moment passed before a lady came around the corner, steps light and casual like the seasoned caregiver she most likely was. She was older with brown hair pulled into a bun, a few wiry gray strands sticking to and fro from what must've been an already strenuous day with the children. She offered Soonyoung a gentle smile, revealing wrinkles that curved with her face, as if showing how often they formed due to her frequent grins and happiness. 
"Hello," Soonyoung whispered, practically tiptoeing closer to her out of fear of making any more noise. "I'm sorry for… that." He gestured grandly to the bell behind him. She snickered, waving her hand dismissively to him. 
"It's alright, dear, these kids can usually sleep through a stampede." Her voice was low, though definitely not as quiet as Soonyoung had been, and he found himself quickly adapting to her volume levels as she went behind the front desk. "Pick-up?"
"Oh… Yes, I'm here for pick-up." He nodded at her words, somewhat surprised at how quickly she had deduced his reason for coming. She handed him a clipboard of names, presumably that of the kids, before she left to go into the room of napping children.
His eyes scanned the list before settling on Chaerim's. There were two boxes in her row, one for drop off and one for pick-up. (y/n)'s name was already signed in one, and Soonyoung needed a moment to collect himself, gaze now focused on her signature. It was silly of him to feel so affected by mere writing, especially when he had written his name next to hers on the pick-up column. It had the same satisfaction as when he'd write his name with her last name growing up, long before he had the bravery to ask her out and he was merely dealing with a crush that rotted his brain away.
Chaerim. (y/n). Soonyoung. 
He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a little voice calling out to him.
"Soonie?" He turned around, heart swelling as he saw a tired Chaerim rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her face was puffy, hair in complete disarray, but she looked absolutely adorable to him. He crouched to his knees with a smile on his face, and that was supposedly enough of a boost for the girl to all but launch herself into his hold, tiny arms thrown around his neck as she buried her face into his shoulder. A warmth spread through his body as he cradled her against him, standing to his full height before facing the woman again. 
"She had almost an hour-long nap. Snack time was just before naptime, so she may be hungry. And she was praised today for sharing toys with the other kids." Soonyoung chuckled at this, patting her back approvingly as she refused to stray from where she nestled herself into him. 
"Thank you so much," he responded to her, backing away towards the door as he waved goodbye to her. 
"Of course. It's lovely to finally meet you!" The words hadn't really hit him until the door had closed behind them. Then he, had stood there frozen for another moment, eyes widened when he processed both her implication and how she had wordlessly gone to retrieve Chaerim. He bit back a smile, continuing his trek to his car as he greeted the little girl in his arms. 
"Are you surprised?" He felt her nod against him. 
"Yeah," she mumbled into his shirt. "Because usually it's Uncle Seokmin who picks me up. But today, it was Soonie." His cheeks were already hurting from smiling and he hadn't even gotten into the car yet.
"I like the name you've given me," he replied to her as he strapped the little girl into her seat, shaking her around a bit to check again for stability purposes, earning a few bubbly giggles from her before he slipped into the driver's seat. 
"Are we going to Aunt Jihyo's? Uncle Seokmin usually takes me to Aunt Jihyo's afterwards. And then Aunt Jihyo and I play games and watch movies until mommy comes." Soonyoung hummed happily at her babbling in the background, refreshing his chat with Seokmin where he had only sent him the address to the daycare. Soonyoung sent a second text out, even though his other one hadn't been read yet. He knew it'd be a stretch asking Chaerim for directions, so with a shake of his head, he began backing out of the parking lot. 
"I was actually thinking we could hang, you and me. How does that sound?"
"Yeah!" She hollered loudly, all that drowsiness she had before dissipating as she kicked her legs excitedly. 
To be fair, if he weren't driving, he'd also probably be kicking his legs around, the thought of spending time with Chaerim just as exciting of an idea to him as it was to her, and he hadn't even had a full conversation with the girl on his own. It just comes to show how invigorating of a person she was at such a young age already. Just as entrancing as her mother.
It was almost by nature that he had navigated them to the park. It was a quaint area filled with lush trees and winding cobbled paths. At the center of it all was a lake where many visitors would fish or feed the wildlife, and that main walkway encircled the body of water, a route many morning joggers would wind up taking.
Their town wasn't necessarily small, but it also wasn't a grand city with a variety of things to do and places to visit; as such, the park was a sight he and his friends had frequented often whilst growing up together. He remembers learning to skip stones with Minghao at the lake, climbing around the playground with Mingyu and Seokmin as if it were an obstacle course where they couldn't touch the floor, playing manhunt with everyone in the middle of the night. Asking out (y/n) as the sun was setting behind them. It was a place he held near and dear to his heart, and something in him wanted to create even more memories now with Chaerim by his side. 
The girl seemed perhaps even more excited than he was, if that were even possible, already preemptively pressing the red button of her car seat and freeing herself from her restraints. Though she sat there anyways, waiting for Soonyoung to turn off the car and take her out of her seat himself. 
With her little hand wrapped around two of his fingers, they strolled through the park together, Soonyoung letting her ramble away to her heart's content. 
"You should be happy I named you Soonie," she called out to him from where she walked below. He hummed in acknowledgement at this, a confused yet amused smile crossing his face as she continued speaking. "Uncle Seokmin keeps asking me to change his name, but I don't want to."
"Why not? A nickname would be much shorter than Uncle Seokmin."
"What's a nickname?"
"It's when you shorten the person's name. You call me Soonie instead of Soonyoung. Soonie is a nickname."
"Why can't it be your real name?"
"It could if I legally change it."
"Change it."
"Maybe some other day," Soonyoung laughed at her insistence, gazing down at her fondly. How lucky you would have had to been to be blessed with Chaerim's presence on a daily basis. It was a relieving thought to know that three of the most trustworthy people he could name were her guardians.
Jihyo, who had been with (y/n) for years to come. A friend that was one in a million. Someone who stood the test of time, never once straying from (y/n) throughout the duration of their friendship.
He remembers when he had gotten into a fight on (y/n)'s behalf, having heard a guy talking crassly about her. It was Jihyo who had yanked Soonyoung off the guy, urging him to rethink his decision. The last thing (y/n) would want out of this was her boyfriend to be suspended for fighting this jerk. But when the guy continued with his vulgar language regarding (y/n), Jihyo had performed quite possibly the most impressive elbow drop ever seen, landing them both into weeks of detention together. 
It was a silly thing to bond over, but nonetheless had sealed a sort of unspoken friendship that neither of them had expected. 
Then there was Seokmin, one of his best friends since elementary school—and still claiming that title today. 
He was inherently kindhearted, accepting of anyone no matter their circumstances. Soonyoung berated him at times for putting others before himself too often, though it seemed like it didn't affect Seokmin in the slightest. As if he derived all of his enjoyment from helping others, both a selfless but also selfish matter as he did think of others, but he mostly did it because it brought himself joy. Still a saint if there ever was one, and from what he's heard thus far regarding his participation in Chaerim and (y/n)'s life, this still proved true. 
Then there was (y/n). Were there even words to describe how perfect (y/n) was? How sweet and caring and loving she is. Warm and doting with kisses that can heal any ailment, physical or emotional. Thoughtful and patient and compassionate. Soonyoung had brought the passion in their relationship, the whimsy that made love so worthwhile and memorable. Yet she was the stability in their relationship, able to ground Soonyoung when he grew too rambunctious, quell any argument that would surface between them, balance the energy Soonyoung evoked with her own tranquility. 
There was no better person to mother such an adoring child as Chaerim. No better person to be raised by with such love and tenderness. There was no person like (y/n), nor would there ever be. 
"Why is it called nickname?" Chaerim suddenly chimed in, catching Soonyoung off guard who just spoke the first thing in his mind, in a feeble attempt to impress the young girl with his nonexistent knowledge. 
"Nick is the shortened version of Nicholas." His eyes had widened comically at his words, impressed by how the reasoning seemed to fit the context, yet also dumbfounded by how idiotic he was. Chaerim didn't seem to be affected by his nonsense. 
"So Soonyoung is your Nicholasname?" 
"Yes." He could already sense another question on the tip of the inquisitive girl's tongue, and Soonyoung couldn't find it in himself to lie to her again. "Oh, look at that!" He threw his hand up with a gasp leaving his mouth, pointing to the ice cream truck just off the edge of the path they walked on. While he seemed excited, Chaerim was otherwise unimpressed, drawing nearer to him as they stopped in their path. 
"I'm not allowed to have ice cream," she explained, to which Soonyoung gaped at her response, almost immediately crouching to her level in shock. 
"Why not? Is it something about spoiling your dinner?" She hummed at his question, needing a moment to herself to think of her words. 
"Mommy says I can't. She says I lack toes in taller ants." Soonyoung blinked in wonder at this, in complete and utter confusion at what she was getting at. Lack toes in taller ants. Lack toes. In taller ants. 
"Lack toes… Lactose intolerant." His voice was barely above a whisper, both hesitant of his conclusion, but also fearful for the answer—on whether she truly is lactose intolerant.
She nodded. 
His breathing was shaky, nerves alight as he nodded at her response. His heart felt like it had seized in his chest for a moment, yet even with the internal panic setting in, he still felt a smile twitching at his lips. 
"Well, lucky for you, this ice cream truck has ice cream you can eat." Her eyes widened, a wide toothy grin setting in. 
"Really?"
"Yeah. And you can trust me on this. I'm also lactose intolerant." She laughed in absolute wonderment, allowing him to scoop her up and take her to the ice cream truck he used to visit as a child himself.
Ordering the ice cream felt sort of like a fever dream as he was still processing the newfound information. The coincidences were becoming far too frequent for him to ignore. Chaerim's undeniable resemblance to him that has even stumped people outside their circumstances. Chaerim's genetic lactose intolerance that she had to have gotten from someone other than (y/n). Even now as they ate their sorbets, they had similar tastes. 
"I don't like this," Chaerim said, sticking out her tongue in disgust. 
"Then why'd you ask for it?"
"Mommy says I like peaches." Soonyoung chuckled at this, glancing down at his strawberry sorbet one last time before extending it to the girl seated beside him.
"Here, try mine." She leant forward, biting into the pink dome of sweetness before humming in delight and nodding. Gone was his strawberry, now eating her peach one—which he also didn't really like all that much. 
She was cozied up into his side, all but devouring her strawberry treat while Soonyoung soaked in the moment. He memorized the way the sun beat down upon them, how the cool breeze passed by and chilled the perspiration settling on their faces. The feeling of fulfillment gripping at his heart just from being with Chaerim, feeling her so close to his side, taking in the radiance she emitted, her happiness that he had managed to instill in her. It was an emotion he never thought existed, but now couldn't get enough. Something only she seemed to awaken in him, and something he'd quite possibly never grow weary of. 
"DK," She shouted enthusiastically all of the sudden, startling Soonyoung some out of his thoughts. 
"What's DK?"
"Uncle Seokmin." 
"How'd you come up with that?"
"It's the letters in his name. Seok and Min." 
"That's not… There's no… Okay." She giggled at him, causing him to laugh along with her. Her head pressed into the side of his chest, right along where his heart seemed to beat more obviously by the moment. It was such a perfect moment, and Soonyoung's delusions seemed to continuously feed into that delight, yet something in him nagged incessantly, a voice that seemed to call upon his downfall as his mouth opened. "Chaerim… How old are you?"
"I'm turning 4." She proudly raised up four fingers into Soonyoung's sight, and his heart all but shattered alongside the fantasy that had been concocted in his head at the moment.
She was 3. Far too young to have been his child. 
He didn't understand. There was so much that said otherwise. So many signs that supported his beliefs. So many reasons to prove that she was his daughter. It confused him. It left his heart in fractures. It had this numb feeling quickly settling in, reminding him that he was nothing. That he was delusional to have even thought for a moment Chaerim was his. That he had even the slightest chance of reconnecting with (y/n). That he could ever possibly get this dream life that he had abandoned on his own. 
"Soonie, I like ice cream. Can we get more later?" He bit his lip, blinking away the tears that threatened to surface and began nodding his head. A grin settled over his face at Chaerim's request, sighing in relief as he was forced back into reality. The reality that although he wasn't her father, he still very much so loved this little girl, and nothing could change that. 
"Of course, sunshine," he cooed, fingers combing through the thin strands of her jet black hair. "We'll have to get permission from your mommy first. I'm not even sure if I was allowed to do this much." 
"And when mommy says yes, we can all get ice cream together." Soonyoung's heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of (y/n), but his mind blanked upon the insinuation of her joining them. The three of them all together, spending a day in the park eating ice cream like a little family. 
His perfect little family. 
"Yeah. We'll do just that."
"Pinky promise?" She held out her hand to him, pinky jutted out expectantly as she looked up at him. 
"Pinky promise." He linked his pinky with hers, earning more of her pleased giggles that soothed away all of his anxieties. 
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Time passed by quickly, and soon Soonyoung was waiting at (y/n)'s door, seated on the ground as Chaerim continued talking to him. The elevator they had used to arrive at the apartment chimed, and out rushed a panicked (y/n), eyes manic as she zeroed in on her daughter. 
"Mommy!" Chaerim called out, rushing over to the woman who dropped to her knees, a sigh of relief puffing out of her as she finally had her daughter back in her arms. 
"My baby, thank heavens you're alright." Soonyoung smiled fondly at the sight, taking another moment to watch the two before he rose to his feet, garnering (y/n)'s attention. 
"I'm sorry. I would've called you about the change in plans, but I basically only had Seokmin's number, and Seokmin was preoccupied." She nodded, also standing up with him, Chaerim wrapped in her arms. 
"I understand," she responded, heading over to her front door. "Could you get my keys out of my bag?" 
Soonyoung automatically obeyed, fishing out her keys in mere seconds as he unlocked the door for the two. He followed close behind, slipping her bag off her shoulder and allowing her to peacefully reconvene with her daughter in the living room, cradling the young girl for a few more minutes to herself. 
"Mommy, Soonie picked me up today!"
"I know, that's so fun, isn't it?"
"Yeah! DK was busy, so Soonie came."
"DK?"
"And then we went to the park!" Soonyoung snorted as Chaerim completely ignored (y/n)'s confusion, leaning against the wall and watching (y/n) struggle to keep up with her daughter. "We went to the park and we had ice cream!"
"Ice cream?" She turned to look at Soonyoung, a hint of confusion, but upon seeing him mouth 'sorbet', she nodded in understanding, smiling as she returned to her daughter. "That's exciting! Was it yummy?"
"No!" Chaerim proclaimed proudly, (y/n)'s jaw dropping at the rollercoaster of a conversation happening. "I had peach ice cream first."
"You don't like peaches." Soonyoung had to hold back his laugh, chest quaking with contained cackles, remembering how confidently Chaerim had explained her mom telling her she liked peaches. Though that laughter dissipated, quickly replaced with betrayal as Chaerim continued. 
"Soonie said I liked peaches." While Soonyoung was about to defend his position, (y/n) merely nodded, already accustomed to Chaerim's inconsistencies as a toddler. "But he gave me his strawberry, and it was really yummy!" 
"You swapped ice creams?" (y/n) asked, gaze returning to Soonyoung, a ghost of a smile on her lips with that familiar glint of fondness returning to her eyes, a sight that Soonyoung couldn't recall the last time seeing, and it had him shaken to his core right at that moment, stomach twisting in knots and heart pounding against his chest as the emotions swirling in him seemed to awaken from their hibernation. 
"Yeah we did! We can swap again next time with you!" (y/n) drifted her attention back to Chaerim, that fleeting tender gaze dissipating, soon replaced by confusion once more. 
"What?" 
"Soonie and I want you to eat ice cream with us!"
She didn't look back at Soonyoung, merely nodding in agreement and faintly smiling. 
"Of course, sweetheart. I'll join you guys next time." Before Chaerim could offer her pinky as she did him, (y/n) stood from the couch. "Soonie has to go now though! Go ahead and say goodbye!" 
(y/n) was already walking away as her daughter whined in protest, darting over to where Soonyoung resided and clinging to his legs. 
"Soonie, don't go!"
God, he didn't want to. It was the last thing on his mind, especially when he met her glassy eyed stare, a pleading gaze begging him not to leave her. His heart was too weak for this, but he knew he couldn't disobey (y/n)'s decree, and he begrudgingly lowered to his knees, gathering Chaerim in his arms for one last hug. 
"It's alright, sunshine. There's always another day. I made a promise, didn't I?" With one last squeeze, he pulled away, making sure he looked at her with the most unwaveringly resolute expression he could muster. "And I never break my promises." 
She giggled and nodded, hugging him again before running off to her room, leaving (y/n) and him alone at the foyer. 
"I'm really sorry about today," Soonyoung began, quick to break the silence before it grew to be too tense. "Seokmin had that issue with his grandmother, and he forgot to text me Jihyo's address–"
"It's okay, Soonyoung. Really." Her voice was soft as she cut him off, hand raised to silence him. "I should be thanking you, to be honest. This is probably the most fun she's had in a long time." 
"No need to thank me at all." Soonyoung gave a subtle laugh, looking down at his feet bashfully. "Chaerim is the sweetest little girl out there. I had a very good day with her." 
(y/n) smiled at this, nodding at his words before turning to begin making dinner. 
"I'm glad. She seems to really like you." She hesitated for a moment, causing mid sentence. "Thank you… for giving her your time of day. It really means a lot to us."
"(y/n)..." He knew where her words came from. He could hear it in her tone. The pain. The betrayal. The wounds still fresh from when he had left her that morning. Left her to wake up on her own to an empty bed and no other word from him. Completely and utterly alone. He knew what he had done, and while he regretted it with every fiber of his being, he still stood there, contemplating what he could possibly say to someone he had left behind years and years ago. Because no matter how much he regrets his actions, he can never take it back. "I'm sorry… I know it doesn't make up for anything, but truly, I'm genuinely, desperately sorry."
Her eyes were focused on the granite of her countertop, hands shaking while clenched together on the surface. She was holding so much in, and it killed Soonyoung. Knowing he had left her this way. That he reduced her to this state.
"It's fine. It's in the past." Her voice was steady and calm, a contrast to her physical appearance where she seemed to be barely holding herself up. But in typical (y/n) fashion, she looked up at him, all emotion stowed away as she greeted him with that professional facade of hers; the one that she used on everyone to hide how she truly felt. The facade that she had never once directed to him because he could see right through it every time. And it hurt. Seeing how she couldn't even bear to share even a fragment of emotion to him anymore, as if last night's crying fest between the two was for nothing. He hated it. Indifference felt even colder than the sting of hatred. He'd much rather have preferred she loathed him to the depths of his soul, yet she just waved it off, smiling and making her way around him and to her door. "New era, new me. There's no use in holding grudges or holding on to the past. I appreciate everything you've done for Chaerim today. But I'm sure she's taken up quite a bit of your day, and I wouldn't want to waste anymore of your time."
The door was wide open before Soonyoung could even get a say in, and he unwillingly walked out of the apartment, steps slow and dragging as he passed by (y/n) avoiding his stare by focusing on the floor beneath them. 
"I…" Soonyoung spoke as he passed the threshold of their home, turning around before (y/n) could start closing the door. She looked up at him, brows furrowed together warily at what he could possibly want. "Can I… take Chaerim out some days while I'm here?" Her mouth fell open, but nothing came out, merely shocked to hear Soonyoung's preposition. "I don't have any plans this month, and I really did enjoy my time with her. And I'll take good care of her. That is, only if we have your permission, of course." 
"I'll… I'll have to see how she feels about this. You know, since it's also her opinion on the matter."
"Of course." Soonyoung hesitated for a moment, biting his lip in thought, but he urged himself to push forward. "Can I… give you my number? So we can stay in contact about… Chaerim?" 
"Soonyoung…" She was tongue-tied to say the least, fumbling over noncommittal words and syllables, trying to get herself out of this situation, but to no avail. It brought a smile to his face as she pulled out her phone and handed it to him, because he did have a point. As a mother, she wouldn't want what happened today to happen again. Yes, Soonyoung was playing on her natural maternal instincts, but he meant well nevertheless. 
With their numbers exchanged, she bid him farewell, thanking him one last time before allowing the door to fall closed behind her. And Soonyoung walked out of that apartment building triumphantly, pleased with himself and how his day had gone. His heart felt more full than it ever had before, all because he had the knowledge of (y/n)'s number stored into his phone. It was a silly thing, but something that had him beaming to himself as he took a moment to stare at her contact in his car. He felt like a schoolboy all over again, gushing about his crush who had given him the bare minimum, but God did the bare minimum feel like everything he's ever wanted in life. 
He was snapped out of his revelry with his phone vibrating in hand, Seokmin's contact taking over his screen with an incoming call. 
"Hello?" Soonyoung answered. 
"Soonyoung, hey! It's Seokmin. I just wanted to check up on how everything's going. My grandma got checked up, she just has a few bruises that should clear up in a few weeks. Car doesn't look too good, but at least she's fine."
"That's great!" Soonyoung sighed for his friend, smiling at the good news. "I'm glad to hear everything is okay. As for me, today went well. I picked up Chaerim and took her to the park. We had some sorbets together, walked around a bit, and I just finished dropping her off at (y/n)'s." 
"Awesome, I seriously owe you, dude."
"No, you don't." Soonyoung's eyes glanced up to (y/n)'s floor, comfortingly smiling at whatever the girls could be up to at this time. "I honestly owe you, if we're being honest."
"Ah, you see what I mean?" Seokmin spoke in a teasing manner, and Soonyoung could already envision the shit eating grin across his friend's face. "Isn't she the sweetest thing ever. I love hanging out with her." 
"I do, too," Soonyoung confessed, eyes slowly moving down from the apartment building, naturally landing on his rearview mirror with a clear image of Chaerim's now empty booster seat. "Listen, Seokmin, I have a… serious question to ask you." 
"Shoot, what's up?"
"Who's Chaerim's father?" 
The line was dead silent with only the natural buzz of feedback to greet his ears. His hand clenched at the wheel, waiting for Seokmin's words which seemed to be far too delayed for his taste. As if this silence would stretch on for another eon with Soonyoung wasting away, waiting in anticipation for his answer, only hoping it's the one he wants. 
"I don't know," Seokmin responded, his tone growing grave with his words. "I'm not sure… But I mean, Jihyo is basically her dad. We like to joke around that she's more of a dad than an aunt to the girl, you know what I mean?" Soonyoung pursed his lips, easily seeing how Seokmin redirected the conversation. But he didn't dwell on that, nodding to himself at his friend's excuse of an answer. 
"Yeah, I get you. Jihyo is a real one." 
"I actually have to go and deal with her now, because I had like 20 missed calls from her and I called you first to delay the inevitable when I have to call her back." Soonyoung expelled some air from his nose in a soft, breathy laugh. 
"I wish you luck, my friend." 
"Thank you, I'll be needing it. I'll pick you up at 8 tonight. Sounds good?"
"Sounds good to me."
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Soonyoung may have drank too much last night. And he may have woken up with a hangover so bad that even laying on his pillow had his head pounding. All of this may hold true, but none of it stopped Soonyoung from downing some painkillers and heading out to the daycare, far too excited to even consider the pain throbbing at his skull. Because through all of the agony he had woken to, there was one shining light at the end of the dim tunnel; a text from (y/n), saying that both she and Chaerim had consented to him picking her up and spending the day with her. 
He was lucky that the other guys were just as drunk as him, Seokmin not even reading Soonyoung's message telling him he was going to be busy that day—perhaps still knocked out after their rambunctious night, one that Soonyoung struggled to remember. 
He could only remember glimpses of memories here and there. Joshua pulling a Gatorade out of his backpack and mixing it with his shot, attracting the attention of passersby who also wanted a douse of Gatorade infused in their liquor. He remembered Seokmin trying to front flip on the karaoke stage and failing miserably, laying there flat on his back as the instrumental to Call Me Maybe continued playing in the background. He remembered Mingyu and Chan trying to impress girls by using their strength in quite possibly the dumbest way Soonyoung had ever seen being attempted; Chan trying to do pull ups on Mingyu's arms who desperately flexed to try and hold the boy up—though it did manage to impress many guys at the bar, and they made quite a few gym friends along the way.
He was just grateful he managed to find his way home somehow in one piece, and made it a reminder to check on the others later in the day when they've likely recovered. But for now, he was on his way to the daycare, ready to retrieve Chaerim early so they could be together for even longer today. 
The pick up was much like the day before, though this time, Soonyoung came before naptime and was greeted by many smiling faces playing together in the next room. The lady came to greet him once more as Chaerim clung to him again, and soon they were off. 
"Where are we going today, Soonie!" She shouted from where she sat, inside voice out the window as she kicked her feet excitedly once more. The sight warmed his heart, the small mirrored image of her in his rearview mirror sparking this wholesome comfort in his heart, a fond smile stretching across his face. 
"I haven't decided yet, sunshine," he replied. "We can go to the zoo–"
"The zoo!" She cried enthusiastically, the shrillness of her voice somewhat grating on his ear, triggering another throbbing sensation in his head, though he shook it off with a wince and a shrug. "I want the zoo, Soonie! I want the zoo!"
"Or we can go to the mall and I can buy you whatever you want."
She grew quiet all of a sudden, startling Soonyoung who quickly glanced at his rearview mirror to see the girl staring off into oblivion, mouth ajar and eyes glazed over. She sat there completely motionless for a few seconds, and Soonyoung was about to pull over to check on her when she suddenly sat up again. 
"Soonie buys me toys at the zoo." 
He blinked at her proposition, but nevertheless nodded with a laugh. 
"Sounds like a plan. Good job finding a compromise so quickly." 
"What's a com-pom-rise?" 
The remainder of the journey was repetitive, to say the least, with Chaerim babbling nonsensically, hitting Soonyoung with unexpected questions as if to keep him on track with her discussions, singing songs together, and at some point she dozed off for five minutes before waking up fully energized. 
And the zoo was as good an idea as ever, perhaps better than it had gone in his head when he had been deliberating on potential places to take the young girl. Her smile seemed to never fade throughout the day, a permanent fixture on her face as he brought her to each and every animal they had to offer. He'd hold her up to get a better view of the monkeys, summarize what the tour guides said in words she'd understand, even had his arm wrapped around her the entire time she was in the petting zoo, far too wary to approach any of the animals on her own.
All the while, he snapped photos of her and him, sending them to (y/n) to keep her updated. It felt bittersweet to have her on speed dial once more. Accessible to him at any moment in time. He'd remember them texting each other at night, using up all of their minutes just to be with the other. And later on, they'd call each other for hours at a time, his face pressed into the pillow and his phone resting on his ear, dozing off to the sound of her absent-minded humming. Though again, they were merely memories at this point. And he was reminded of that as he sent her the next batch of images, the last one staring back at him almost mockingly.
One where his face was pressed against Chaerim's, the both of them sporting the same toothy smile, cheeks puffed with joy and eyes crinkled into slits. While the fact still remained—that being Chaerim is not his biological child—he couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort looking at the image. A sort of reminder of what could have been. That this little girl is what his child with (y/n) would've looked like had he not thrown everything away.
"Soonie," said little girl called up to him, tugging at the hem of his shirt to summon his attention. "I'm tired." 
That's right, he picked her up before naptime. Not only that, but they've been walking around the zoo for a few hours now. Of course she's bound to be tired, she's still practically a baby. He could probably find a quiet spot where she can nap. She can use his jacket as a blanket and his lap as a pillow. Would that be sufficient enough? What if it's too sunny out for her to nap? Is there a place that's even quiet enough? What if she collapses on him out of exhaustion? 
Another tug at his shirt has him crouching to her height almost immediately, and Chaerim took the opportunity to latch onto his neck, scrambling into his arms so when he stood again, she was safely nestled against him. As if through magic, her touch settled the frenzied thoughts swirling in his head, silencing his incessant doubts and worries with a simple hug. The ends of her pigtails tickled beneath his jaw, grounding him and bringing a smile to his face. 
This must've been what it felt like to be a father. The thought harrowing, the responsibilities debilitating, worries for your child being an inevitable occurrence with every waking moment. Yet at the end of the day, when you had them in your arm, feeling their comforting weight against you, it was like there was nothing to even worry about. Like all of those struggles endured were worth it in the end. Like nothing else in the world mattered, as long as they were safe and happy. This fulfilling sense of harmony like the calm after the storm, the remedy to his qualms, the spark of warmth in an otherwise frigid wasteland.
What power such a tiny human held, one that he had only met some few days ago, yet one that he found himself loving wholeheartedly, willing to throw everything away if that's what she asked of him. There they sat on a secluded bench, his jacket draped on her back as she dozed off on his shoulder. The hanging branches above them offered a generous amount of shade, yet those pesky rays of light that peeked through the leaves threatened Chaerim's rest, so Soonyoung sat there with his hand hovering over her face, making sure nothing disturbed her peace. His arm ached and his shoulder had long gone numb from keeping its position, though he found he couldn't care less about these minor inconveniences. 
Not when his little sunshine was sleeping calmly against him, her steady breaths puffing against his neck as her fists weakly pawed at his shirt. 
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The zoo trip finally reached its conclusion, Chaerim strapped into her car seat between her new flamingo, giraffe, and tiger toys, who were also strapped into their seats. The latter was a given, Soonyoung already snagging it from its hook and adding it to her pile. She didn't complain though, if her talking to her new tiger was any indication. On the way home, she had already bestowed upon it the noble name of Stripey, as well as an entire backstory about Stripey having fled from her wartorn kingdom before the enemy lion troops were to capture her, taking refuge in the zoo until Chaerim came to her rescue.
Soonyoung was very invested, on the edge of his seat whenever she hit him with yet another plot twist to the convoluted story, to the point that he hadn't even realized he'd made it to the apartment building until he had actually parked, nor did he truly acknowledge the situation at hand until Chaerim had rapped her knuckles against the door once they had reached the apartment itself. 
Moments later, the door opened, and there stood (y/n) in all of her glory. It was idiotic how absolutely awestruck Soonyoung was every time he saw. How enamored he was with her whenever he so much as stood in her presence. The impact she had on him still to this day something that astonished him, though at the same time didn't necessarily surprise him, as she had lingered in his mind practically every day since the moment he first met her. 
Soonyoung stood in sheer wonderment as usual, though was suddenly sent hurtling into a completely different sense of astoundment as she blessed him with a smile. A warm and genuine grin with tinges of bittersweet poignancy at its edges. It wasn't that conflicted, distant gaze she usually looked at him with, watching him as one would an exhibit of sorts. It felt new, yet comfortingly familiar in a way. As if slowly but surely, her exterior was melting away. 
"Mommy!" Chaerim shouted, squirming out of Soonyoung's arms the moment (y/n) appeared. She managed to wrangle the little girl from Soonyoung's wavering grip, chuckling to herself at the fear that flashed Soonyoung's eyes the moment he thought he'd drop Chaerim. He was left to trail after the two, right arm still clutching the three stuffed animals and the small gift shop bag. All the while, Chaerim babbled on to her mother about the entirety of her day. 
Soonyoung was leant against the wall as the two girls sat themselves on the couch, the scene similar to the day before, yet also vastly different. The setting sun's rays seeping in through the windows no longer felt like an anxious conclusion to the day, though instead a hopeful end. One where Soonyoung could rest assured that he wasn't being completely removed from the equation. He couldn't really pinpoint it, but it felt as if something changed. As if turning a new leaf. Watching the girls talk hadn't felt like he was intruding on a private conversation, but instead spectating the amusing scene of a toddler desperately strewing words together to describe the events of the zoo to her mother. 
"And then–and then Soonie and I went to see the rhinos, and they were like this big," she exclaimed excitedly, tossing her arms open to indicate the sheer size of the animals mentioned. (y/n) nodded, undoing Chaerim's pigtails and combing through her locks. "And then we saw the giraffes and they were even bigger!"
"No way," (y/n) responded, triggering another surge of excitement from the little girl who insisted vehemently on the giraffe's staggering height. Soonyoung rested his head against the wall, a wide smile stretched across his face. (y/n) glanced over at him, biting back her own smile while Chaerim continued.
Something had changed. A shift in the atmosphere that was unlike yesterday's. It felt almost unfair that Soonyoung couldn't narrow down what exactly it was, yet either way he was immensely grateful, especially as (y/n) redirected her attention to him, dismissing Chaerim for now. She stood from the couch, walking into the kitchen, and Soonyoung naturally followed after her, no words needed. 
"Looks like she had fun," (y/n) stated, an entertained laugh slipping out at the end of her sentence.
"She did, I'm glad to see that." Soonyoung glanced into the living room where the aforementioned little girl watched her cartoons in an almost dazed state. "I was worried she wouldn't like it." 
"Please, she got to see animals and she got toys at the end of it all. You couldn't have made her happier." She briefly opened the fridge, pulling out a sealed container before placing it on the island countertop. Soonyoung glanced between it and her for a few moments, not understanding the sudden appearance of the item, but with a roll of her eyes, (y/n) slid it closer to him. "Hangover soup." 
Soonyoung's mouth fell open, eyes widening some as he hesitantly brought the dish closer. 
"How did you know?" She looked at him with amused confusion, as if the answer to the question was obvious. Nonetheless, she shrugged with a smirk. 
"Maybe a little birdie told me you all were getting wasted last night." Soonyoung giggled some, thoughts returning to his friend who most likely is dealing with the same pain as him. He'd be sure to share this with Seokmin when he sees him next. 
"Thank you. Really. You didn't have to do all this."
"Of course I did." She waved him off dismissively, faux exasperation at his humility. His lips pursed into a thin line, fingers fiddling with the twine loops of the gift bag before finally lifting it and placing it on the counter with a soft thud. It was now her turn to look between the bag and him expectantly, only for him to follow her prior movements, sliding the bag across the counter much the same as the soup. 
Hesitatingly, she took the item, the light touch of her fingers causing the dense paper material to crinkle under her. She wore an appreciative, yet otherwise curious, smile as she fished out whatever resided in the bag, lifting it from its bed of wrapping and into the light. 
A small white leather box, unassuming in presentation, to the point that she hadn't even spared a second thought before opening it, unveiling a pair of pearl earrings. Her mouth fell agape, a small gasp leaving past her lips. She stared for a moment more at the jewelry before looking back up at Soonyoung. 
"The zoo had an area where they bred oysters," he explained, his voice coming out softer than intended, yet even so still feeling out of place in the otherwise quiet atmosphere with only the sounds of children's cartoons offering a low humming white noise in the background. She turned back to the earrings, a finger tracing over the smooth surface of the item at hand. "I hope you still like pearls. I saw them and thought of you." 
"I love them." Her response came as quietly as his own, though her voice had a crack in it that had Soonyoung's brows raising in concern. Meeting his gaze again proved his suspicions correct, her eyes now glassy with a pout on her lip as she clutched the box closer to her chest. 
"Aww, baby, don't cry." Soonyoung let out a laugh, body moving instinctively as he opened his arms. It wasn't until she had already shuffled into his embrace, whining into his chest and quietly releasing her tears, that he realized what he'd done. Though feeling her against him, the warmth of her tears against his shirt, that soothing aroma of hers that always calmed his nerves, the weight of her head pressing into him, quelled the worries in his heart. Like mother, like daughter, the two girls holding such an authority over him to be able to sway his every thought and his every emotion. For the next few minutes, he reveled in whatever comfort he could acquire, arms squeezing (y/n) to him as she mumbled her thanks to the man. 
For once, Soonyoung felt a sense of completion, more sated holding (y/n) than he had been at his own graduation. His lips twitched into a smile, and he was sure (y/n) must have heard the beating of his heart kick up with every passing moment, though she didn't comment on it. Chaerim had begun singing the songs on her show, and the orange glow of the setting sun continued basking them in its warm honey-like ambience. 
For once in his both hectic and monotonous life, he felt a stability he feared he'd never experience, the key to his peace resting in the hands of (y/n) herself. As if he had strayed from his intended path, only to veer back to her. Like no matter how far you throw a rock into the air, it's bound to return to the earth below it. No matter how far he fled from home, no matter how distant he grew from her, he'd always find his way back to (y/n). Like it was meant to be. And as he cradled her to him, he knew it was because it truly was meant to be.
He didn't know for how long he'd stood there holding (y/n), rocking them back and forth calmly as they embraced one another, though it was the sound of the apartment door opening that brought them back to reality, regrettably separating as Jihyo waltzed in. She had a look of surprise on her face for a moment, but offered Soonyoung a kind smile in greeting. 
"I should head out," Soonyoung quietly spoke, turning back to (y/n) after waving to Jihyo. 
"I'll walk you out," she replied, already walking out of the kitchen and into the main hall.
Soonyoung made a brief detour to the living room, crouching in front of the couch where Chaerim resided. 
"I'm heading out now." Chaerim immediately threw herself at him, causing Soonyoung to briefly huff at the sudden action. 
"I want Soonie to stay." 
"I can't, sunshine. We'll hang out again tomorrow, yeah?"
"Zoo?"
"I was thinking we could go to the aquarium. We can see more water animals." She gasped, pulling herself away from him to nod enthusiastically. Soonyoung laughed, nodding along with her and promising to pick her up from daycare again. Though before he could stand up, she grabbed him again, dragging him closer to her. 
"Come to my birthday," she insisted, practically vibrating with excitement. "It's really soon. Mommy says the 17th. Come to my birthday." 
"Okay, sunshine, I'm there."
She finally let him go, smiling as he walked back to the hallway where Jihyo and (y/n) stood. Jihyo bid Soonyoung a brief goodbye before heading to the living room with Chaerim. 
"I can't thank you enough for taking care of Chaerim, and for my earrings." (y/n) fiddled with the box still in her hand, and Soonyoung couldn't help but to grin at her shyness. 
"Of course. Nothing but the best for you both." 
"And thank you for the pictures… I really liked them." 
"I'm glad to hear." He felt his cheeks warming under her attention, bashfully looking down at his feet. "I'll send more tomorrow. We're going to the aquarium." 
"Oh, she's going to love that."
There was a pause between them, a silence as they looked at each other one last time. Soonyoung couldn't help but to smile whilst admiring her, remembering how he'd zone out in class and miss the entire lesson because he was staring at the back of her head. Old habits die hard. 
A sudden holler from the living room drew their attention back to the present, snickering at Chaerim's hoots of laughter from beyond the apartment. Though it reminded Soonyoung of what had happened some few moments ago. 
"Chaerim invited me to her birthday." (y/n) smiled at this, nodding her head at his words. 
"Yeah, it's coming up in just a few days. It's just going to be a little get together with Jihyo, Seokmin, and I. Maybe some of the guys, but who knows. We'd love to have you over." 
"I'd love to attend. So this is me RSVPing for that." 
"I'll be sure to write your name on the list of attendees." They shared another laugh together.
Soonyoung couldn't believe how light it felt to be with her today. That agonizingly taxing weight which once lingered over him in her presence now all but dissipated. He couldn't tell what had happened, but God he'd be lying if he said he wasn't eternally grateful for such a turn of events.
The glee in this revelation remained with him as he drove home, and also as he ate all of the hangover soup, changing his mind about sharing with Seokmin, keeping (y/n)'s gift all to himself. 
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"Bullshit!" Chan shouted, already whipping his hand out towards the messily strewn pile of cards at the center of the table. Flipping over the first two of the pile revealed an ace and a ten—not the two aces that Jeonghan had initially declared. 
The man groaned to himself as he dragged the entire pile over, causing Chan to victoriously raise his arms up in the air. Beside him, Mingyu patted his back while Seokmin hyped him up, the two sporting encouraging smiles for the youngest's achievement. With a new round starting, Soonyoung grabbed two from his hand and placed them at the now barren center. 
"Two aces," he announced, leaning back and refusing to meet anyone's perceptive stare. No matter how drunk they got, they somehow always remained vigilant when it came down to Bullshit. 
"One two," Wonwoo muttered afterwards, dropping a card into the newly accumulating pile. 
"Two threes," Jihoon leant forward to join with his addition, leaning back seconds after and absentmindedly reorganizing the cards in his hand currently, unaware of the six other men staring at him in disbelief. 
"Um… Bullshit?" Seokmin mumbled confusedly, causing Jihoon to finally peek over and see that the two supposed threes he'd dropped were instead face up, revealing instead a three and a nine. 
"No– Wait– Don't look at that." He dove forward to retrieve his cards, but he knew it was too late as the lot all erupted into laughter, shouting out Jihoon's slip up and pushing the slim pile over to him. "I hate this game. Why are we even playing this game? I don't want to play this game. Let's play Uno." 
"Like that's any less ruthless," Jeonghan grumbled, brandishing his hand which made up a good chunk of the 52 count deck of theirs. Jihoon took another swig of his beer, irate at the turn of events.
"Someone better win soon then, or I'm leaving the party early." 
"Don't worry," Chan stood to his feet, chair scraping back as he assumed a heroic pose. He raised his hand up, a single card resting between his two fingers. "I've got that covered." He gently placed the card at the center of the table, his voice just as soft as he announced. "One four."
Vernon glanced down at his cards, brow raising as he glanced from his hand to Chan. His mouth had momentarily opened, but before he could call the boy out on his fib, Jihoon all but tossed his cards ceremoniously onto the table, clapping and monotonously cheering for the winner of the game. 
"Hooray, good job. Seokmin, get your Uno." 
As the new game was starting, Seokmin dealing out everyone's seven cards, Soonyoung's phone buzzed against his lap. With one last tentative sip of his drink, not wanting to go through another terrible hangover so soon, he pulled out his phone under the table. Almost immediately, his expression brightened, putting down his drink and scooting out from the table. 
"Excuse me, I have to take this," he quickly stated, shuffling away from the rowdy bunch and into the hall. The noise was muted some here, just enough that he could probably talk peacefully on the phone, though if not, Seokmin's bedroom door was right there next to him. With one last sigh, he swiped on the incoming call, voice unexpectedly wavering as he answered. "Hello?"
"Soonie!" The familiar shrill voice of Chaerim momentarily surprised him, though his shock washed away rather quickly. 
"Hello, sunshine! How are you?" Soonyoung already found himself slipping into the aforementioned bedroom, knowing his voice would carry over to where the others resided. 
"I'm good!"
With the formalities over and out of the way, she began spewing out near nonsense supposedly telling Soonyoung about her day from what he could decipher. He hummed affirmatively and responded when need be, though for the most part just sat there with a dopey smile as the little girl continued on with her speech. From beyond her voice, Soonyoung could hear (y/n) in the background, giggling to herself as Chaerim talked, and it had Soonyoung biting his lip, his cheeks aching with the sheer breadth of his grin. 
"Soonie, you didn't pick me up today," she noted randomly. 
"I know, sweet pea, it's the weekend. Don't you want to spend time with your mommy?" 
"No, I'm okay." Soonyoung laughed as (y/n) whined at her daughter's quick dismissal of her, even more so when (y/n) began seemingly wrestling the child for the phone back. "No! I want Soonie! No!" 
"You're quickly losing Soonie privileges, Chae." (y/n) warned, voice authoritative, yet nevertheless carrying a jesting undertone.
"Soonie, she's so mean to me. Where are you? Why aren't you here?" 
"I'm at Uncle Seokmin's house."
"I want to go to Uncle Seokmin's house. I want to be with Soonie." His heart felt so incredibly full, his hand clenching over where the organ was beating. She was too precious for this world, he thought. If he hadn't already had a drink or two, he'd be driving over to the apartment to reunite with Chaerim right then and there. Though with some forced restraint, he tethered himself back to reality, pouting at his newfound maturity. 
"I can't, Soonie isn't feeling very well right now." 
"Oh no! Why are you sick?"
"I drank some… icky water… and now I'm too weak to drive over to you." 
"Soonie, don't die." Her voice was suddenly so terribly sad, and Soonyoung immediately regretted his words. 
"No, I'm just feeling a little sick! I'm not big sick!"
"The icky water made Soonie's tummy hurt. You know how tummy aches feel, right?" (y/n) began explaining, earning a sound of acknowledgement from the little girl who quickly returned to the phone. 
"Soonie, it's okay, I get tummy aches, too. It's okay, it's okay." 
"Thank you, sweetie. I'll be sure to feel better before your birthday." 
He could hear (y/n) whispering to Chaerim, her voice quiet as she told Chaerim to say goodnight to him. 
"Goodnight, Soonie! I can't wait to see you on my birthday! I miss you!"
"I miss you, too."
"I love you." 
If his heart had felt full before, it was practically overflowing now, that overabundance of warmth now seeping into his stomach, gripping him with its comfort and bringing a flush to his face. 
"I love you, too, sunshine." 
There was some commotion on the other line, the two quietly speaking to each other, though now Soonyoung couldn't really decipher it. He just sat there, permanent smile on his face, still reeling over Chaerim's farewell. It felt nice. To be loved by this little girl that he had already accepted he loved back with all of his heart. It felt gratifying, that of all people, Chaerim came to love him. 
"Hey," (y/n)'s voice sounded from the phone. 
"Hi." He found himself looking down at the floor, socked feet fiddling with the carpet beneath him, brushing it back and forth and toying with the opposing shades it created.
After a little over a week, it still felt so surreal to hear (y/n) again. To be near her. To be able to actually talk to her. As if his six year drought had come to an end with her monsoon-like return. As if she brought life back to his otherwise desolate form. He felt more alive these last few days than he has in the half decade he's been away. He was beginning to feel concerned for himself, because he honestly couldn't even remember the past six years he's been gone, all of it like a numbing fever dream where he'd survived on autopilot alone.
But now he was present. He felt himself again. He felt like a human being. As dependent as it may sound, (y/n) made him who he was, and he was nothing without her. 
"Sorry about that. She refused to go to sleep until she saw Soonie today." 
"I don't mind. It did feel weird today not seeing her." 
"You spoil her too much. She still refuses to let go of her manta ray stuffed animal since you got it for her at the aquarium." Soonyoung chuckled at this, remembering that day fondly. 
"That's surprising, considering she was terrified to even approach the stingray petting area." (y/n) laughed, remembering the picture Soonyoung sent her of him smiling at the camera while Chaerim was red faced and crying next to the said animal petting area. 
"Says the guy who had to be protected by that same little girl when you both went to the circus."
"Hey." Soonyoung's quick interjection had (y/n) bursting into another fit of giggles. "Those clowns were terrifying. She was a brave soul that day. I wouldn't have come out alive." 
"Of course, I understand."
"Well, we'll see who's talking when we take you to an amusement park for the rollercoasters." She gasped at his threat, her voice dropping into a pained whisper soon after. 
"You wouldn't dare."
"I would, you know I would." 
"I'm being abused by both my daughter and you, I can't handle this." 
His heart felt light, soaring about frivolously without a care in the world. This dark mass which once clung to it had slowly but surely faded away, taking with it the dense murkiness it once obscured Soonyoung's life with. Those butterflies in his stomach fluttered with it, joyous and abundant after their long hibernation, dormant until (y/n) had come back into the picture. 
Her voice spoke to him like a lullaby, soft and tranquil as she chatted faintly, words light and breathy and weaving together into incoherency, though he didn't really mind, reminded of the days they'd do just this until they passed out. 
"(y/n), you're tired," Soonyoung uttered, to which she hummed in consideration. 
"I am."
"You should go to sleep." There was an ache in his heart, sending her off so early, though he couldn't keep her to himself all night. She was busy, and sleep was practically a rare commodity to her. 
Silence settled over the two, with only the grainy feedback of the phone call to occupy them, yet Soonyoung still found it to be comforting merely knowing she was on the other line. He'd probably stay on the phone with her all night like this if he could, but he really should let her go. 
"I don't want to." Her response was low, a whisper into the phone, as if having uttered something she shouldn't have. His breath stuttered, body stiffening while his heart seized in on itself, thudding against his chest to the point that it almost ached. And with the undeniable warmth coursing through his veins at the moment, he couldn't help but grin to himself, clutching the phone tighter in his hand.
"I don't want you to either."
She hummed appreciatively at this, a content thrum against his ear, and for a moment, he was beside her. He was laying there, her hair fanning out against her pillow, eyes slid shut with the faintest trace of a smile gracing her lips. He could feel her breath against his skin, her presence like an otherworldly comfort. He could hear her breathing growing steadier by the minute as they basked in the silence. Telltale sign of her drifting off. And the thought seemed to come to him naturally, like an old record that still played the same tune as he began rambling. 
"The guys are playing Uno in the other room. We were playing BS, but Jihoon lost his patience a bit." He heard a slight chuckle on her side, though one that hadn't deterred her already tired state. "I'm pretty sure he's still losing his patience. Uno is much worse than BS. I'll text you the details tomorrow once I go out there again later." He leant back, laying flat on Seokmin's bed with his phone still pressed to his cheek. "I already got Chaerim her gift. I don't know if I should tell you. I think you'll get mad at me. But Chaerim will like it at least. I know she will."
He paused for a moment, thoughts still whirling in his head. He chuckled to himself thinking about his gift, the mental image of Chaerim using it already playing in his head.
Chaerim. 
"I really did miss my little sunshine today. I know we've hung out everyday, but it still feels lonely without her. On the bright side, I already know where I'm taking her next. I think she'd like the ice skating rink. The one we used to go to."
Memories came to him. Memories of that very rink. Of his friends and him all busting their ass more than once. Jun clinging to the plexiglass paneling on the rink's perimeter. Jihoon teetering with his legs and arms spread out as far as possible. Chan accidentally learning to skate backwards first. Soonyoung struggling to grasp the concept of ice skating, clinging to (y/n) like his life depended on it. Really, it did. And she'd just laugh and let him hold her, his arms wrapped around her body with his head resting on her shoulders, and she'd skate them around while Soonyoung just cradled her to him. 
He hasn't skated in years. Not since (y/n). He didn't even realize this until this very moment. 
"Maybe I should hold out on the skating rink for another day. I don't think I can actually skate. I never really learned." He pursed his lips, blinking back his sadness. "I never learned because once I did, it would mean I wouldn't need you anymore. I wouldn't be able to hold you like I did. It would've just taken away one of the ways I showed my love to you." The blinking was becoming redundant as he felt his eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. "But it was kinda pointless in the end since I was the one that took away our love. Since I was the one that gave up." 
He scoffed as he felt the first tear slip by, as if he even deserved to cry at this point. Though once the second and the third slipped by, that indignant irritation disappeared, leaving behind the raw sadness that had been plaguing him for years. He frowned, staring at the popcorn ceiling above him. It looked like (y/n)'s ceiling growing up.
He was reminded of those sleepless nights when she'd jostle him awake, either anxious with her thoughts or scared from a nightmare, and he'd lay awake with her. They'd rest their heads against one another as she talked to him, released her thoughts so they were no longer trapped in her head. And he'd comfort her with words or cuddles. He'd point at the textured ceiling staring down from above them, making constellations and telling her whatever convoluted story he'd make up on the spot. Until she had fallen asleep peacefully to the sound of his voice, a smile on her face as he kissed her goodnight before falling asleep himself. 
Staring up at that very ceiling, the replacement for their city's light polluted sky, only served to make him cry harder. He shook his head at the thought, at his words he'd only just uttered. 
"I gave up our relationship like a fucking idiot," he muttered, voice wrought with emotion, wavering with the tension in his throat. "But I never gave up our love. Never once in my life have I ever stopped loving you. And I never will. Even after you've moved on, I'll still be here, knowing that I lost my soulmate the night I walked away. The night I left you." He bit his lip at the memory, sniffling as softly as he could. From the sound of her breathing, he knew she was asleep, yet he kept going. "That was the most painful thing I've ever had to do. Leaving you was a mistake, but it was just… atrocious of me to leave you alone in my bed like that. I should've done better. I should've said goodbye to you personally like I had wanted to." A sob slipped past his lips for a moment, but he brought his fist up to his mouth, concealing the despair that seeped out of him with every word. "I shouldn't have even left you in the first place."
He moved to wipe his tears, smiling through the pain as he heard the deep steady breaths on the other line, anchoring him back to the present. 
"I love you," he admitted, a laugh following at the end of it. "I love you so much. More than I could ever even try to explain. I love you." His hand flew up to his hair, tugging at the strands as more tears flooded his eyes, that agonized smile stretching further across his face. "I love the way you haven't changed over the years. I love the way you still make me happy. I love how strong and intelligent you are. I love how you still show your love through different means. I love that you made me soup when I was hungover. I love that you wear those pearl earrings I got you everyday. I love how you still fall asleep to my voice. I love Chaerim. I love your little family." Another shaky breath, and the tension which had built up over the course of his confession unraveled, his body going limp, and that smile slackened until it was truly genuine. A genuine, gentle, ever so loving, absolutely enamored smile as he let it all go. As he accepted his flaws. His mistakes from the past. His frenzied emotions. His absolute, undeniable, to the moon sort of love he held for (y/n). "I love you." 
The last few minutes of the call were spent with Soonyoung silently crying, letting out the last shreds of despair wracking his body. Her breathing soothed his tormented heart, reminding him of the constant she was to him. That anchor in his life he so desperately needed, tethering him to her lest he stray wayward once more. He felt that tug once more. That urge to run directly to her. To watch her peaceful form beside him, memorizing every line and every detail of her face, tracing the outlines of her form carefully with his eyes, until he had it all ingrained in his mind where he'd then fall asleep, pressing a kiss to her forehead before drifting off. 
"Goodnight, my love," he muttered, which was all he could do at this point, smiling warmly as he took in the last remnants of her presence before he'd have to leave. "Sweet dreams." 
The game had all but stopped once Soonyoung had come back an hour later with tear stained cheeks and blood shot eyes, face red and puffy, all the while attempting to act as nonchalant as possible, as if he hadn't just walked out of the most devastating experience he'd ever encountered. 
"You good?" Chan was the first to break the silence, eyebrow raised in concern at the state of his elder. Soonyoung nodded. 
"Yeah, why?" His voice cracked, as if the cherry on top to this entire fiasco. 
"Who was that on the phone?" Wonwoo was the next to speak, fiddling with the cards in his hands. 
"Oh, it was just (y/n) and Chaerim."
The boys uttered a collective 'ah' in understanding, returning to their game as if nothing had happened. That is except Jihoon, taking another gulp of beer with a sigh followed after. 
"You know what, this is good," Jihoon announced aloud. Jeonghan absentmindedly hummed at him to continue, all the while dropping his card on the pile at the table's center. "Let it all out, talk to each other. So much unresolved tension that's finally getting closure." He pointed to Soonyoung, eyebrows furrowed seriously. "It's about time you two made up."
"He's right," Vernon spoke up, putting his cards face down before him. "You guys… personally founded romance or something. You're our modern day Romeo and Juliet." He placed his hands on his chest, looking around the table for support as he continued. "I was honestly devastated when they broke up. Cause like if they can't work out, what hope do we have?" Chan nodded at this, pursing his lips in understanding. Wonwoo similarly mimicked this, lips downturned as he confirmed Vernon's words. "You need her. She needs you. You both need each other. It just doesn't make sense to have one without the other. You know what I'm saying?" 
"You two were made for each other!" Jihoon cried out passionately, slapping down a draw four and causing Jeonghan's jaw to slacken at his audacity. 
Soonyoung was flustered at all the attention on him, and was ever so grateful when the game returned to its original state before he had intervened. Beside him, Seokmin patted his back, as if knowing Soonyoung was riddled with conflicting thoughts and emotions. Though really it was pretty one dimensional where his stance had settled. 
He loved (y/n). He loved Chaerim. He loved them both. God, he wanted them both. But he's been far too greedy in his life. And at this point, he's willing to take whatever (y/n) was willing to offer him.
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Soonyoung knocked on the door excitedly, biting back his smile as he heard Chaerim's familiar holler from within the apartment. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a smiling Jihyo donning a pink party hat. 
"Hey Soonyoung! Come on–" She stopped talking once she looked down and saw the gigantic box at his feet. It had barely even fit through the door and required both of them cooperating with one another to manage it through. "What the hell did you buy this little girl?" 
"Soonie!" Said little girl came barreling out of a room down the hall, hurdling herself into his arms at full velocity.
"Chaerim!" He yelled back, squeezing her in his arms and twirling her in the air. She erupted into giggles, face squished into his neck as her limbs clung to him desperately. "How's my favorite birthday girl?"
Before she could respond, a delighted gasp brought their attention to her, her eyes now entirely trained on the enormous box behind Jihyo.
"Is that mine?" She asked excitedly, squirming out of Soonyoung's grasp to rush over to the box. It was practically as big as her, and it had Soonyoung giggling to himself as well. Jihyo shook her head, staring at him in disbelief before turning back to Chaerim. 
"Yes, sweetie, Soonie got it for you. You can open it after we blow out your candles." She immediately came bounding back to Soonie, crouched to her height as she hugged the living daylights out of him. 
"Thank you, Soonie." He grinned, hugging her back happily. 
"Of course, sunshine." A few moments passed before (y/n) came strolling out of her room, just as lovely as she always was. Her eyes landed on Soonyoung, and he felt his heart skip multiple beats upon the sudden smile she had on her face. 
"Soonyoung, you came!" He stood up, Chaerim still held by his right arm as he accepted (y/n)'s hug with his left. He felt so full, heart overflowing with adoration and stomach twisting into happy little knots as he surrounded himself with his two favorite girls. Jihyo stood on the sidelines, a contented pout on her face as she watched the scene before her. 
Still wrapped in Soonyoung's hold, (y/n) glanced over to Jihyo. 
"Any news on Seokmin?" 
"Stuck at work," Jihyo regretfully informed, glancing down at her phone as if checking to see if Seokmin had miraculously escaped the clutches of his day job. "But he did invite some of the other guys, so they should be showing up throughout the day."
"Oh, that'll be chaotic," (y/n) snickered, laying her head on Soonyoung's chest in thought. He had no quarrels with this, in a permanent blissed out state as he rocked them all back and forth, lost in his own world. "Should we just have her blow out her candles now so she can play with her toys throughout the day?" (y/n) continued talking as Chaerim had yelled out her agreeance excitedly. "That way she'll have time to play with some toys, and then when one of the boys comes, she can play with the next toy?"
"That sounds like a plan." Jihyo nodded, already in motion as she began setting up the cake.
Soonyoung handled the birthday girl as (y/n) and Chaerim scurried about, delicately placing some candles on the cake, to which Chaerim indignantly commanded there to be more. Once there were about 20 candles scattered across her princess themed cake, Soonyoung placed her down on a barstool placed at the middle island, making his way across the counter to where (y/n) stood. Jihyo sat beside the little girl, slowly lighting up the candles for the ceremony until (y/n) took a sharp intake of breath, turning to face Soonyoung with a shocked expression on her face.
Before he could reciprocate her panic, however, she had already begun fleeing from the kitchen. 
"I forgot the camera!" Her voice faded in the distance as she grew further away, leaving the three of them in the kitchen. Soonyoung averted his gaze from where (y/n) ran off to Chaerim, precariously eyeing her cake with a mischievous glint in her eyes. It brought a smile to his face, watching the few lit candles flicker in the reflection of her dark eyes. 
"You should blow out the candles before wax gets on the cake," Soonyoung suggested, catching Chaerim's eye as she began smiling with him. Before Jihyo could put out the few candles, Chaerim beat her to it, puffing out her cheeks and blowing out the tiny flames in one big breath. Victoriously, she threw her hands up in the air. 
"Yay! I'm turning five!" She hollered aloud, bringing a chuckle out of Jihyo beside her. 
"No, sweetie, you are five. You only say turning when you're going to be that age very soon. Yesterday, you were turning five. Today, you are five. Understand?" 
"No." 
"Okay, well–" Jihyo was cut off by the sudden presence of Soonyoung's hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention over to the suddenly very shaken man. His eyes were shaky, attempting to focus on Jihyo, but struggling to maintain what little restraint he had left in him. 
"She's five?" He asked, voice coming out in a wavering manner through his unsteady breathing. Jihyo looked at him confused for a moment, incredulous at his inquiry, though as quickly as she mentally questioned him, realization had hit her. Realization that Soonyoung had put the puzzle together. 
"Soonyoung–" She started, her tone of voice full of remorse, though she couldn't get much else out as he all but bolted out of the kitchen and down the hall, barging into (y/n)'s room unceremoniously. His head whipped about momentarily until his eyes landed on her emerging from her closet, digital camera in hand. 
"Oh, I found the camera, it's alright–" (y/n) yelped as Soonyoung's hands clamped down on her shoulders, the force of his hold startling her for a second, though not harming her in any manner. As if his only intention was to keep her where she stood. 
"(y/n)," he began, faltering in his speech. She grew concerned for him, hands instinctively reaching up to hold onto his bicep, squeezing him back reassuringly. The motion, at any other moment in time would've called him down. Though right now, it did nothing but remind him of who stood before him. "(y/n), I've asked Jihyo. I've asked Seokmin. I haven't asked you. So I'm only going to ask this once." At this point, (y/n) was slowly understanding the situation at hand, and she could do nothing but quiver at the raw emotion in his eyes. The blaze of unbridled despondency seeping into his dark, lonely gaze. His lips quivered as he took in another breath, nerves shaking with him and almost sending his body into a similar state. "Is Chaerim my daughter?" 
Her mouth had fallen open, and then it closed, and opened again, though no sound came out. Her eyes darted about the room, from the door leading to the hallway, to her bedside table, to the closet behind her. Anywhere but Soonyoung, who couldn't tear his gaze away from her for even a moment, trained on her every minute action, relying on his years of being fluent in (y/n) to lead him to his answer. 
She was scared, that much was obvious. She was attempting to school her expression, a twitch on her lip trying to incite a casual smile to brush him off. A light, humorous scoff being the first sound to leave her lips, and she finally focused her eyes on his mouth. 
"What are you talking about?" She asked, a joking air to her words, a tone that could have potentially fooled others, but Soonyoung could detect the lack of sincerity in her actions. Her fingers twitched where they rested on his arm, squeezing him to calm herself as she continued. "Jihyo and Seokmin have both told you no."
"They have," Soonyoung agreed, dragging (y/n) closer, so close that he was sure she could hear the way his heart beat so violently against his chest, just as terrified of the results of this interrogation as she was. "But you haven't."
That faux curl of her lips had crumbled, bottom lip trembling as her eyes began to well with tears, her body similarly quaking under his touch. Her breathing had picked up, chest rising and falling to an almost concerning rate that Soonyoung had to reposition them, one hand falling down to her back and the other brushing away the strands of hair in her face. She whimpered at the sudden proximity, attempting to curl in on herself and away from Soonyoung's prying eyes. 
"(y/n)," he quietly called out to her, voice now hushed, lowly soothing her as best he could. Her hands had retracted to her chest, fiddling with the material of his shirt as he drew her closer to him, shushing her when silent tears had begun slipping out. At this point, he had his answer. He just needed (y/n) to come to terms with it as well. So he patiently held her, face buried in her hair as he swayed them side to side, rocking her until he felt her breathing even out. 
When he retracted his head to look down at her, he saw her terror filled eyes, widened and focused on the whitewashed wall of her bedroom. Gently, his finger trailed down to her chin, bringing her face to him as he pressed his forehead against hers, noses brushing past one another. When she met his resolute gaze, his eyes like the calm of a dark sea, her panic slowly but surely subsided, his staunch resolve seeping into her own eyes. 
Finally, in the steadiest manner he could muster, Soonyoung breathed out the question once more. 
"Is she my daughter?" A silence settled between the two, (y/n) slowly becoming lost as he stared into her soul, as if he were weaving his way back into her life, tangling the strings she had worked tirelessly to rid herself of, yet she couldn't find it in her to feel repulsed by his invasion at all. Instead, relief momentarily flooded her being. That peaceful understanding and comfort she had always felt in his arms reminding her of who he was. Her defenses had crumbled, and her mouth had fallen agape once more, voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper as she answered him. 
"Yes." 
His first reaction was to laugh. This disbelieving chuckle as he slowly pulled away from her, eyes immediately watering once more. His hands flew to his hair, yanking at the strands as a smile overtook his features. He was ecstatic. He had a daughter. A beautiful, lovely daughter outside waiting for his return. He had a daughter with the girl he promised himself he would one day start a family with. 
(y/n) had slapped a hand over her mouth as Soonyoung separated from her, a loud sob threatening to leave her. At some point, she lost the strength in her legs and collapsed on the edge of her bed, crying into her hand as Soonyoung considered the newfound information. 
He was beyond happy to have Chaerim, though he sat there processing the weight of such a discovery. He had fallen to the ground soon after, on his knees as tears streamed down his face. 
"I have a daughter," he spoke aloud, hands gripping at the carpeting beneath him. "I have a daughter." He crawled over to (y/n), hands shooting up to her face as his thumbs brushed over the tears in her eyes. "(y/n), we have a daughter!" His hands went everywhere, brushing back her hair, smoothing out her shirt, running over the goosebumps on her arms. "We have a daughter…" His head rested on her thighs in between where her hands rested on her lap. "Why am I only just finding out on her fifth birthday? Why have you all been lying to me?"
He sat up again, staring at (y/n), awaiting any sort of response, but she sat there sniffling, quietly sobbing to herself. He didn't know for how long he stared at her before she finally spoke, voice broken and defeated. 
"You left me…" She couldn't meet his gaze, staring down at where he had scooped her hands into his own. The sight brought another wave of sadness through her, having to bite back the fresh tears wanting to be shed. "You left me. I begged you to give me a chance. Give us a chance. And you left me." His thumbs brushed over her wrists, encouraging her to keep talking. "Not only that, but you stopped talking to all of us. I know you felt bad about leaving in the first place. I know you thought it'd be better to just disappear from our lives than make us deal with long distance and time difference, but it was still painful, Soonyoung." He shut his eyes, laying his head back into her lap where she began absentmindedly fiddling with the messy strands of his hair. "And then I found out I was pregnant and… I was terrified. I just…" She stopped, clearing her throat from the dejection riddling her voice. "You chose to follow your dreams. That didn't include Chaerim and I. I didn't want to drag you back into this life you didn't want." 
"Baby, no," he whined, sitting back on his heels and tugging (y/n) down from her bed and onto the floor with him, cradling her weakened body in his arms. "You both are my dream. You're my fantasy. You're the only thing I've ever wanted in life." He pressed his lips wherever he could reach, mumbling between each and every kiss. "I never meant to make you think otherwise. I just wanted you to be happy."
"You make me happy, idiot," she countered, the loudest thing she's said in the past few minutes, startling Soonyoung for a moment. "And I didn't want to tell you this month because… you have that job offer, and Chaerim and I will only be a burden to you."
"(y/n), I couldn't care less about that damn job offer." She pulled away from his shoulder, meeting his unexpectedly passionate gaze, brows furrowed and ever so determined. He squeezed her tighter in his arms. "I have a family right here. Do you understand how…thrilled I am?" Another tear slipped from his eye, though this one was paired with a genuinely warm and blithe grin, a sight that brought a smile of her own to (y/n)'s face, giggling as he pressed his forehead against hers again. "I was already happy to have reunited with you, and to have met Chaerim, but now…" He chuckled, biting his lip a second after to mute the bubbly feeling in his chest. "Now she's my daughter. She's mine." 
His eyes were so incredibly mirthful, shining with unshed tears and unadulterated glee. She couldn't help but to smile at his happiness, pressing her hands against his cheeks and rubbing her nose against his own. The way he hugged her, fingers gripping her as if an extra measure to keep her close to him, reminded them of their youth. Their youth and the love they once held for each other. Their love that hadn't faded. Their love that persisted through time, distance, and every hurdle life has thrown their way. 
"But your degree–" She started, but Soonyoung cut her off immediately. 
"To hell with my degree, (y/n)! Holy shit, I'm a father!" He buried himself into her hair, drawing her even closer to his chest, holding her so closely to where her ear pressed against his torso, right over where his heart beat so rapidly within him. Though hesitant, she wrapped her arms around his body, hugging him back. Giggles and tears and happy sighs left them both, wandering hands squeezing any part of their person they could grab, wanting so much of the other that it almost didn't make sense. "I'm staying."
"What?"
"I'm staying." She pulled away to meet his gaze, so sure and earnest as he nodded at her confused eyes. "I can't leave you again. I physically can't. Even if you don't accept me as your lover anymore, I can't bear to be so far away from you again." Her heart fluttered at his confession, going speechless once more, allowing him to continue on. "Plus, I have Chaerim now. I need to be here for her. I have to make up for lost time." 
"Y-you're staying?" It was the only thing her overwhelmed brain could come up with, not even able to process the heart fluttering and adoring gaze Soonyoung looked at her with.
"I'm staying. I couldn't care less about a job offer or my degree or anything else. None of it matters. I just need you and Chaerim. And I can't believe it took me 6 years to realize this."
Immediately, another sob broke out, and even more tears spilled from her eyes. Tears that Soonyoung swiped away as quickly as they appeared, giggling at her with such loving eyes. Though as she quieted down and he had a moment to his thoughts, he swallowed down the lump in his throat and shut his eyes. 
"I love you, (y/n). So much. So, so fucking much... I'm so sorry for what I've made you go through. I should've been here this entire time. I shouldn't have given up on us. I'm so sorry." He could've said more, but she shook her head at him, cradling his face again, encouraging him to open his eyes and meet hers. 
"I forgive you, Soonyoung." He blinked at her words, eyes darting between her own as if looking for any falsitude in her statement. 
"You do?" He asked. She nodded at him. 
"Just please don't leave me again." 
"I'd never dream of it." 
Her eyes shone with such fondness, grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she stroked back Soonyoung's hair, properly admiring his grown features for the first time since he came back. Something she hadn't granted herself the privilege of doing so before, for fear of falling in love and being abandoned again. Though now she was sure, with that devoted glimmer in his eye and that dumb in love smile stretched on his face, that he truly was staying this time around. 
That's what motivated her to lean forward and press a chaste, yet affectionate kiss to his lips, separating before he could respond to it.
"I love you, too, Soonyoung." A short bout of silence fell between the two, Soonyoung staring at her blankly as she giggled and continued to play with his hair. Though soon enough, he came to his senses, hand cupping her cheek and drawing her into him again for another kiss. A better kiss. One that he poured his entire heart and soul into. One that he hoped conveyed what his words couldn't. How regretful he is. How relieved he is. How absolutely in love he is.
His hand stroked over her face, fingers slipping into her hair as he brought her even closer to him, arm tightening around her waist and pressing her against him. The only thing that stopped their kiss was their smiling, laughs that bubbled out of them both. She continued littering kisses onto him, even more giggles slipping from his mouth. Delighted laughs that filled the room and her heart. He had felt so at ease and so loved that he almost hadn't acknowledged the faint knock at the doorway, the ajar door slowly rolling wider to reveal Chaerim peeking in. 
"Mommy, Aunt Jihyo is asking if you guys are okay." It was the first time Soonyoung was seeing Chaerim since the revelation, but he couldn't have felt happier seeing the girl than right now. Looking at her before him right at this moment felt so obvious. He couldn't believe he even doubted himself. He couldn't believe he went along with Jihyo and Seokmin's words. He couldn't believe he didn't immediately know for a fact that she was his own flesh and blood. 
"Yes, baby, we're okay," (y/n) responded, laying her head against Soonyoung happily. 
Chaerim stood there for a moment more, twiddling with the stray lace of her princess gown as she looked between the two. 
"Does he know the secret?" His heart twisted at her words, looking over to (y/n) with an unreadable expression. A short breath of air expelled from her nose as she nodded. 
"Yes." 
At her mother's words, Chaerim came walking over to him. For the first time since he ever even met her, this was the first sign of hesitance she'd ever displayed—the momentary stingray panic aside. Once she stood in front of him, she extended her hand out, just as she had done when they first met. 
"Hi daddy, my name is Chaerim. I'm 5 years old. My favorite color is yellow. I love you." He felt his heart shatter and rebuild from her words alone, perhaps more than once, because how else could he have reacted to such a sweet and rehearsed statement, as if she had prepared her whole life for this very moment. His lip quivered, something (y/n) didn't miss as she slipped away from his lap, hand softly rubbing his back encouragingly. He cleared his throat and wrapped his hand around her offered one, smiling whilst attempting to mask the sheen of tears coating his eyes. 
"Hi sunshine, it's nice to meet you. I'm your dad." After the quaint handshake, she slowly opened her arms out to him. And the minute he brought her into his arms was the moment every last ounce of his tears spilled, whatever was left from his moment with (y/n) now being used as he hugged his daughter knowingly for the first time. (y/n) sat on the sidelines, though only for a minute before Soonyoung was dragging her into the hug with them, the two girls patting his back soothingly as he wept aloud.
Though he wasn't alone, Jihyo crying as well as she texted Seokmin the details, watching the scene from the safety of the doorway. 
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Seungcheol was the first of the boys to arrive, just in time to come across the disaster which had transpired before his arrival.
Chaerim had opened her largest gift, the one given to her by her dad. And to (y/n)'s dismay, it was a large and elaborate tunnel system. Although it was soft and foldable, it was still something she couldn't believe Soonyoung would even consider buying considering the state of their apartment. But Chaerim was happy, crawling through the tubed labyrinth, giggles reverberating off the walls. 
Though the mayhem Seungcheol walked in on was mere moments after Soonyoung wanted to try out his gift as well, and now found himself stuck in one of the tubes. Jihyo and (y/n) attempted to yank him out from the outside, while Chaerim continued her incessant giggling, giving up on pushing Soonyoung from within and was now peppering tiny kisses all over his face. 
Luckily, Seungcheol was the one to free the man out of the tunnel, much to the child's dismay, until he handed her his gift: an easel set with a large notepad for a canvas.
She doodled away as the three of them explained the events that had occurred that day, Seungcheol at first shocked at it all, though nodding in understanding soon after. 
"It makes much more sense than Jihoon's assumption that you went out and found a Soonyoung doppelganger, because that girl is a carbon copy of Soonyoung, I swear." 
Jeonghan wasn't surprised in the slightest once he had arrived, only shocked that it took Soonyoung this long to realize that the lactose intolerant little girl with sharp eyes and round cheeks wasn't his child. 
Joshua, Junhui, and Wonwoo only congratulated the two, Jihoon still defending his doppelganger story, saying it could have been true.
Minghao and Mingyu also similarly did not show much reaction to it, somehow far more preoccupied with the little girl playing with them.
Vernon, Seungkwan, and Chan were perhaps the most interested in the circumstances, questioning how she had kept it a secret from them for so long, how they hadn't figured it out on their own, what she was going to do with Soonyoung now. 
"I guess I'll give him a second chance," she responded, hugging his arm and laying her head on his shoulder. Their hands intertwined, and Soonyoung smiled at the familiar warmth that emanated from her touch, seeping into his skin and sending waves of content satisfaction through him. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and a blush settled over his cheeks, reminding him that that schoolboy crush he had on (y/n) never left, nor would it ever. 
Seokmin had arrived later on, immediately coming over to congratulate the two, as well as quietly apologize to Soonyoung for hiding his daughter from him. 
"You have to understand, man, I meant no harm. We didn't know your intentions. We needed to protect them, you know?" He muttered quietly, looking around the room as if he were dealing with classified information. "I didn't even know until Jihyo was legit scolding me for bringing you over. You gotta believe me, dude."
"I understand, man, I understand," Soonyoung replied, wrapping an arm around Seokmin and mimicking his overly suspicious mannerisms. Though with the secret out and about, he had to admit that he felt significantly closer to his former best friend, glad to know that his daughter has such an amazing godfather. 
The party soon ended and the boys all flooded out of the apartment. Jihyo was the last to leave after helping (y/n) put Chaerim to sleep. 
"Goodnight, you two!" She waved at the two lovers as she shut the door behind her. Soonyoung had also planned to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome, but (y/n) continued to hold him in a tight hug, refusing to let go. 
"Stay," she insisted. Soonyoung would have laughed at her clinginess, though he heard the hint of fear in her voice, and he immediately understood the clinginess. 
"Okay, baby, I'll stay." Guilt riddled his body the entire way to bed. He had to keep reassuring her he wasn't going anywhere, keeping a hand on her at all times.
He washed her hair for her, letting her hug him while the warm water of the shower fell down their bodies. He helped her get changed, whispering sweet nothings to her the entire process. He held her hand as they got into bed, and once settled, she had immediately clung to him again, limbs tangling together as she buried her face into his shirt. And Soonyoung could only softly shush her, assure her that he's not going anywhere.
His hands combed through her hair, littering kisses on her forehead, muttering his love for her through soft whispers. Seeing the state she was in had a pit of lament settling at the base of his stomach, grimacing at his past misdeeds, remembering the cruel way he left her with nothing more than a final forlorn kiss. 
"I'm sorry," he spoke, hands momentarily stilling in her locks. "I'm so sorry, (y/n). I could apologize every second of every day for the rest of our lives, but it would never amount to how apologetic I truly feel. How much I regret leaving you." He pressed another reassuring kiss on her skin, a shaky intake of air once he separated from her. "I regret it so much. I regret ever doubting our love and I'll never forgive myself for that." He felt her hand splay out on his chest, right over his heart. "(y/n), you're the only thing I live for. You're the only thing in my life that matters." He paused, quickly reconsidering his words before stuttering out his correction. "You and Chaerim, I mean, but…"
He stopped talking as she laughed softly at his words, pulling away from him so she could actually study his face. He was speechless for a second, reminded of a few days ago during their phone call. How he had wished for this exact moment to come to fruition. To hold her in his arms once more, feel her falling asleep in his hold, watch that peaceful state of hers he could only see at night. When she'd enter deep sleep, the tension of the day washing away, her strong persona, her brave facade, all of those pretenses she put up for the world disappearing. And he was the only person she trusted in such a vulnerable state—and he left her. 
"I'm just… I left you. I was so lost and I thought I could find myself. I thought you didn't deserve someone as lost as I was. It just seemed easier to give you up so you wouldn't have to waste your life with a loser like me… I'm sorry." 
Her eyes twinkled under the moonlight, watching Soonyoung as he fumbled over incessant apologies.
When he had gone silent, she shuffled closer to him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose. She smiled when it scrunched, and then she pressed a kiss to his cheek. His jaw. His chin. The corner of his mouth. And then finally a kiss to his lips. A sweet, affectionate kiss. Short and simple, but still enough to leave Soonyoung flustered and motionless. 
"Soonyoung, love, I forgive you."
"I know you say that, but… I just feel like it's not enough. It doesn't make up for what I've done to you. I don't–" Another kiss, though this time, one that Soonyoung reciprocates just as fondly as her. 
"You've already apologized to me countless times." At the sight of his confused face, she grinned. "The first day, when Seokmin brought you to me." Soonyoung nodded at this, though he felt he was too emotional to properly convey his feelings. Plus, he mostly made her cry, so it didn't feel like a valid apology to him. "The night you boys went out drinking." 
"What?" Soonyoung furrowed his brows at this, making (y/n) smile. She brushed back his hair comfortingly, nodding her head in confirmation. 
"2 AM, you called me. Drunk out of your mind, crying and babbling to the point that I could barely understand you." Soonyoung winced at this, quietly groaning to himself as he remembered the night at the bar and how fragmented his memory was. "I laid there listening to you pour out your heart to me." He peeked over from where he wallowed in his own self pity, seeing the tenderness in her expression as she admired him wholeheartedly. "You told me about how much you regretted leaving me. How much it hurt you to leave me behind. The pain you endured throughout those 6 years away. You apologized so much that I had to beg you to calm down." At this, he hid himself again, this time burying his face into his pillow with a loud groan. "And then you said you love me." He felt her fingers tracing images on his arm; circles and stars and hearts. "You said you never stopped loving me. That I was the love of your life, and you'd forever mourn losing me. You probably said I love you just as many times as you apologized, until I myself was crying.
"And then you said… that even if Chaerim wasn't yours, you'd love her as if she were." He peeked out from his pillow to where a bittersweet smile greeted him. "That you love her like you love me. And you wished you had a family like ours. You said we were your happiness. Your dream life that you had always wanted." He pouts at this, realizing his drunk self was probably more articulate than he could ever be when sober. She lifted the arm she had drawn invisible patterns into, nestling herself against him before resting his limb over her.
"And the third time was as I was falling asleep." She had rested her head on his heart again, humming at the soothing rhythm it emanated. "I thought I was dreaming. Hearing the love of my life say such sweet words to me. Such a blissful moment." She sighed dreamily, squeezing his waist in a small hug. "I only realized it was real when I heard my phone beep, indicating you hung up." 
"I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean to wake you," he fussed, but she only shushed him. 
"No more apologies." Another kiss to his lips had him going silent, nodding along to her words. With another laugh his way, she curled up against him once more, cozying up in the warmth of her soulmate for the first time in six years. "So yes, I forgive you. I really do." 
"Thank you, (y/n)." She pressed one last kiss on his chest, one right above his heart. Like magic, he felt the wounds which have tormented him for years to come slowly but surely heal, tending to itself as she nurtured his love once more. A sigh of relief puffed out of his lips, one tear slipping from his eye as he savored the exhilarating serenity of the moment. Of being with his beloved again. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
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(a/n): welcome to the end of this. if you made it, congratulations! thank you for reading my stuff! i appreciate it greatly! i didn't expect for this to be as big as it wound up being. as of right now, it is the longest fic i have published. im happy with how it came out though. hopefully i have more stories planned for the future! thanks for reading!
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