#brought me a lot of comfort. still does. i have a lot going on in my head right now
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HELLO can I ask for sol,hyugo and geo with a mc that is obsessed with it's own appearance, like having a strict diet, body and skin care religiously and wearing uncomfortable clothes like corsets just to be pretty.
Sorry if it's too long, love you writing 🍬💕
ENSNARED
This is the second oldest request I have in my inbox, hope this fulfilled your expectations, Anon! Thank you so much for choosing me to write this for you. <3
TW: There are themes involved with hating your body, as well as depriving it of food, sleep, etc. to feel attractive.
You all have traits that make you worthy. Remember that.
-- Signed solemnly by @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer AKA Sky Fort(resse)s and Burning Citadels
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To commence this: Sol is a very insecure man. He may not appear it, nor act it, but deep in that depraved mind of his - looks are crucial to him. He has standards, of course. He dresses the way he wants, wears whatever makeup he wants, but he still ensures he looks ‘pretty’. Especially for you, he’s willing to ditch all his values and morals for you, just say the word. In short, he understands the urge to appear perfect or have glass skin or to be the most fashionable.
He’s always found you beautiful, to be fair everyone does (they’re not worth your time, he thinks), but you’re ethereal in his eyes. Always was, always will be.
You are by far one of the most fashionable people in all of your classes: your hair is pinned and styled, your clothes scream wealth and expense, your perfumes and cosmetics are a compliment to your features and by God your outfits fit your figure so well. You’re a model, essentially. People state you’ve been stopped on the streets by alleged modelling agencies.
You didn’t trust them enough to accept, however. As you should’ve, this city is dodgy and shady in more ways than Sol has jacked off to you - and that’s a massive achievement tbh.
On the surface, you appear unfazed by the envious looks of passer-bys, confident and composed in your own skin. However - like he knew suspected - as he got to know you, he recognised all the signs, all the subtle cues that indicated just how ‘perfect’ you had to look. How obsessed you were about your appearance, often losing sleep and forcing yourself to avoid food just to feel like you were becoming more ‘beautiful’.
You both should watch The Substance let’s be ffr, that movie perfectly explains what it’s like to be you. (sidenote: the movie’s fine but honestly it went way off the rails halfway through - just my opinion though)
He would often compliment you, and you would smile and thank him. Deep down, however (which he eventually realised and panicked about) was the intrusive, all-consuming thought: He likes this version of me, he could never like the real me, I’m too fake for someone as authentic as him. And then you go even deeper into that cycle.
In terms of romance, it’ll probably stem from a moment of rage or frustration, mostly on your part. You’re so tired or maintaining, editing, fixing yourself every fucking day that you lose it. Fully fucking lose it. You tear at your hair, pull at your skin, smear your makeup and just sob in the shower.
You don’t go to school that day, by then Sol and you (and Hyugo!) were friends for a while, and he was nervous when you weren’t around that day. They both texted you, with little response if any at all. So he brings your favourite snacks (he knows you don’t eat sugar so he brought dried fruits instead). 
What goes down is a mix of you being comforted, him relating to you, both of you opening up, maybe sleeping ontop of each other (look you’re tired okay). 
Obviously it’s a lot more violent and volatile than just that, but you’re in deep. You’ve been stuck in this cycle for years, it’ll take a lot to start pulling you out.
So you guys agree to pull each other out together.
Him (and Hyugo) both value their own appearances, but their aim is to convince you to dress well for YOURSELF, not anyone else.
When you and Sol are dating, you’re still very vain and worried about how you look, but the urge isn’t as potent, more as a source of comfort than anything else - or so you say. Sol definitely makes you eat and sleep more though, and to an extent (hint: a huge one), you feel a lot lighter. A lot saner and a touch happier.
You’re both pulling each other out together, and Sol often displays his love for you (and your body) through significantly more than just validation…
Mans definitely hugs and holds you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear about how worthy of love and affection you truly are.
Maybe one day you’ll grow to tell such kind things to yourself.
“You look gorgeous, pumpkin. Heh, who am I kidding, you always do.”
“Nothing makes me happier than seeing you at ease and content, darling.”
“I love all of you, always have, always will.”
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Hyugo is a raging fan of hot and cool women (shh dw he thinks hot men are epic too); he absolutely loves them, he thinks they’re awesome. He’s someone who can definitely appreciate a person who caters to themselves and generally hold themselves in high regard; and from the looks of it…you seem to be both of those things. After all, you’re considered a beauty by most if not all of the school (and some faculty members but that’s for him to use as blackmail in the future).
He 110% does consider you appealing at first glance, you’re put together, composed, sure of yourself. In short: confident. He likes that trait, the ability to see yourself highly and to deflect any hits that are tossed your way.
He originally doesn’t see it as much more than that, a small acknowledgement of ‘that person’s cool’…until that day on the rooftop.
Then it turns into something a touch more…intimate? I mean, violence is an intimate thing, in certain contexts. It’s just not a type people would want to find themselves in…heh, well, normal people at least.
After him and Sol acquaint themselves with you well enough, he begins to perceive cracks in this facade of yours - Hyugo has a very highly-tuned sixth sense (canon idfc this is something he has to have with the shit he gets up to) - and gets curious.
You seem like a nice person, a good person even, but there’s something *off*. He tries to think about it, tries to put his finger on what he suspects you conceal from the world. So, like the magnificent detective he is, he decides he’s going to investigate and through his many contacts he discovers you’re extremely vain and self-regulatory about your physical appearance.
He doesn’t think that’s the cause at first, until he gets to know you better and it hits him just how willing you are to damage yourself just to fit the standards of the year, if not month. He notices how trendy you are, how you always seem to have the newest bags, clothes, makeup, shoes, etc. 
He does some digging, in his spare time (only due to intrigue, totally out of curiosity and nothing else) and finds that you’re in a very deep debt. Mainly from your obscene amounts of fashion-esqe purchases. That’s when he fully realised how bad this compulsion of yours is.
During your friendship, he starts gingerly bringing up things about trends, usually starting from his end - video games - and you end up mentioning fashion and clothes.
Then he picks up on how gaunt you look, even under the contouring and makeup, his bony your hands are, how frail you seem to be.
He’s contemplating kidnapping you at this point, and eventually he bites the bullet and just bluntly asks you why you’re starving yourself. You become highly defensive, immediately shutting down the conversation.
Soon enough he becomes more forward with his prior gestures of offering food, being a touch insistent you eat. You look like you’ll collapse at any second, and he has to fully resist his urge to force-feed you - mostly to remain on good terms with you - until you actually collapse.
Most people are shocked, but the more perceptive ones aren’t remotely surprised how bad it got. You had a conviction that beauty was everything, and you were stubborn as they come.
It’s when you’re finally allowed out of the hospital that the two of you get into an actual argument. He’s upset that you’re willing to die in pursuit of something entirely subjective and you’re angry he thinks he has the right to boss you around.
Soon enough it explodes, and he blurts out his feelings, freaks out, and storms off; deciding to end it there before he reveals anything else.
You, on the other hand, are shooketh.
Con? Fuzzled.
Bam? Boozled.
Flabber? Gasted.
Eventually, you start to see things from his perspective, from other peoples’ perspectives and you feel depressed all over again. You fucked up. You failed to maintain perfection. It’s the imperfections that made this happen.
Obviously you know it’s not true, logically there’s no way it is. But you’ve not cared about logistics for a long fucking time.
You find him soon enough and you both talk, actually talk. Something something feelings and hurt and comfort something something let’s date.
Hyugo has plenty of his own secrets, as do you, but despite it all? You both know the other would never leave, because…you just feel it. Some small hopeful part of you feels safe with this partner…and soon so do both of you.
He’s a very supportive partner, he even helps you get out of debt ffs, he’s willing to do a lot to help you. Often compliments or expresses affection whenever he sees you, especially if you’ve eaten or he knows you’ve been taking care of yourself. Encourages you to list good traits of yourself, or to do something that involves not thinking, like crocheting. Or shooting. Or cooking. Stuff that grounds you. Whether you take any of those on is up to you, but he’s a caring person, and despite the shit he’s done he does want you to be and feel better. Sometime later on, you feel a sliver of that light return to the pit of hollow self-loathing and the world feels a touch less grey.
“Hey! How’re you feeling? Awesome, hey uh, wanna go out today? Just us two, no pressure. :)”
“As a certified sexy person I wish to remind you that you look very sexy this fine day.” 😔🫡😈 (this is said very solemnly mind you)
“You smell nice...” *subtly inhales*
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To summarise this entire extract, Geo has his own insecurities - but they’re significantly more repressed than any other member of the main cast (Hyugo being a close second imo). He can empathise with the desire to feel content with ones’ own appearance, not that he’d ever state it.
He’s someone who does value fashion - cosmetics in particular, he definitely wears eyeliner and lipstick- and the art of taking care of yourself and your wellbeing, but he never felt the urge to destroy himself in the pursuit of beauty like you do. 
He considers Crowe one of his ‘close’ friends and considering how highly Crowe views you, he’s got some tidbits of info on you, like how you’re incredibly self conscious. He found that odd, because from whatever times he may or may not’ve seen you around, you emanated self-assuredness - if not cockiness - alongside your particularly fancy way of dress.
He can admit, he was a touch impressed with how dedicated you were to maintain yourself, until he began noticing small things in your stature and general nature. He doesn’t know why he observed such minute details, but whenever you hung out with the group, you seemed a touch out of it. A bit depressed, especially when someone complimented you - like Brittney or Jess.
He was somewhat certain you were fishing for compliments, until he realised that he doesn’t trust compliments either, so he somewhat erases that thought of you.
He does end up liking you after a long time, for your personality - we all hope (it is dw) - but he does notice how you alter your outfit style and makeup to something more conventionally appealing in Japan (idk man someone out there’s definitely done this to impress a crush), or just noticed how if you realise he likes something, especially in terms of physicality (it’s not for attraction it’s for the ✨aesthetic✨) you end up adopting said traits.
He eventually does recognise (probably because someone pointed it out, like Deryl - bless his heart he had no bad intentions) that you are doing this to impress him.
He’s not impressed, if anything, he feels a tad peeved. To him, actions like that indicate desperation, and he does not want to be surrounded by desperate people (he’s got too many simps and he doesn’t need anymore)…but you’re not a shallow person, he feels that.
Unfortunately he has fuck all idea on how to actually bring this up, so he doesn’t.
In fact the only way you stop is when he makes a snarky remark about it (he didn’t mean to come off as an asshole he swears) and you just look…melancholic.
In your eyes, you’ve learnt that beauty and appearance is what gets you people, and it’s worked so well before…so why isn’t it working now. You don’t want to seduce or trick anyone, but you want to be seen as pretty. Beautiful, even.
Geo’s indirect rejection of this made that void in your heart - that one that convinced you long ago how shallow and unworthy you genuinely are - swell and pulse. It stung.
That, along with the magnitude of invalidating, cruel thoughts sent you into a spiral. You let yourself go, and you let yourself drown.
And everyone noticed, when you marched into school after a couple days with makeup messily caked onto your face, your hair done in a way that tore at your scalp and hair strands and your outfit so tight that you had to move like a machine just to get around. The desire grew stronger, grew in intensity and you were losing it.
Geo does not understand until Brittney realises it that he may or may not have been a catalyst for this. He has no clue how to deal with this, like he’s so stumped that he has an argument with ChatGPT.
Soon enough, he decides to just try and interact with you and pray this doesn’t end up in flames.
Something something awkward confession something something angst and hurt comfort something something eventually romance starts.
Anyway in terms of romantic relations, he’s unsupportive of these inhumane rituals you’ve been doing on yourself, so he makes you cease.
He doesn’t want to be nasty about it he just thinks it’s stupid and doesn’t want you to suffer anymore. He does care for you.
Will drop random words of validation every month or so, and you cling onto those words, because they’re genuine. They’re authentic, and you grow to feel more comfortable in receiving them, and, most importantly: giving them to yourself and accepting them. Bit by bit.
“You look nice. This suits you.”
“You’ve eaten, I hope?”
“You look healthier. Keep it that way..”
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Banger women and banger tits: two things that Brittney Claire has in spades and also highly appreciates (mantits also count dwdw). She’s someone who values appearance as well, often putting in insane amounts of time for her hair snd skincare alone (Geode quivered in fear when he heard the number). She’s also someone who’s experienced her fair share of dark times and loneliness, so she definitely understands what it feels like to need to feel attractive, to feel wanted and needed, even if it’s ingenuine. 
She’s someone who - like you - displays confidence and self-assurance, especially in the face of people she holds disdain and even resentment towards. Someone who understands the empty feeling that comes with years of self-loathing and the undying belief that you’ll never be worth anything if you’re not beautiful. What worth does someone - especially a woman - have if she’s not beautiful?
Looking back, from the perspective of someone with a much healthier support system and overall mindset, she knows she has worth, knows she’s awesome and has good qualities…but some days those feelings return. So she gets it. 
Frankly, the first time she meets - hell, even sees - you, she instantly knows. How could she not, she used to be similar to you. Trendiest outfits, being the circle of attention, knowing all the news and rumours and pop culture references (she still knows them, just refuses to change herself for them). She believes she only genuinely stopped trying to fit in when she discovered Gyaru fashion, almost slipped back into it when she got humiliated that one time, and crawled back out when she had Jess and Crowe (and to a minor extent, Geo) for support.
She knows you don’t have genuine friends, or ones that possess depth; so she decides to try and get to know you through shared classes.
You originally somewhat ignore her (totally not due to your envy of her being able to be herself no never), which tempts her to give up, but she’s a spiteful lady sometimes. Spite is a very good motivator.
Eventually, you both end up talking and the more comfy you become, the more she realises how similar you both were and still are. She decides to introduce you to her friend group, to which you reluctantly agree (due to the rumours) and you’re pretty well-received. 
Brittney does eventually start opening up to you, and you do as well - bonding over your shared experienced and values - her offering an olive branch if you want support, to which you agree…but never take up.
Hell, soon enough you grow distant again, and oddly enough she’s peeved. She doesn’t get why, well…she does, but you seem to mostly avoid her specifically. Did she appear fake to you? Did you think she wanted to harm you?
Maybe, honestly. She had - still has - that same mindset to an extent. That jaded outlook on reading peoples’ angles and intentions.
When she eventually confronts you, you both escalate it to a fight, mostly because she’s genuinely trying to help - despite having the communication skills of a tortoise in water - while you’re being hyperdefensive over yourself and your habits of extremist beauty obsession.
You confess you’re jealous of her. Highly jealous, the fact she has genuine friends, that she can fit in, be herself, etc. You apologise for being such a bitch, but it hurts you deeply.
She eventually relents and calms down, before you both start a proper friendship. You two and Jess are a banger trio, often going shopping together, going to cafes or simply talking. A group of support and trust, one that’s rare in a place like Titan City.
It’s then you two begin to develop feelings, and eventually things happen and you two get together.
She’s gonna be protective of you, you both defend the other from rumours and shitty people and serve as pillars for the other when they’re feeling low. You guys empathise with one another in ways many others simply cannot - and that’s a bond neither of you are willing to squander.
You guys definitely do each others’ hair and makeup and nails btw.
“You look…pretty! Pretty…uh…yeah. Very pretty.”
“Ugh, times are hard for hot people like us, right? Jessie Sitrus agree with me this instant!!” 🗣🗣
“I get it, but hey! It gets better, trust me. I’d know. And we’ve got each other, right?”
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mars-ipan · 1 month ago
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hi internet friends . i love you. you’re niceys to me and i really appreciate that bc you were not obligated to be. and yet you chose kindness and companionship anyways. that’s very nice of you
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seventh-district · 1 month ago
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7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos
#normal Saturday morning behavior#redacted spoilers#redacted audio#redacted sam#Seven.txt#rp audio stuff#well. crying over one singular blorbo in particular. Sam's still got me in an emotional chokehold#and i'm too sad to even make a stupid little joke abt how i wouldn't mind if it was a physical one too. ayeee *insert sad eyebrow wiggle*#no but seriously. i have so many feelings abt him and i can't even say it all bc some of it isn't public info yet#eh fuck it i'll just draft this until the audio goes public and then i'll post it once it's no longer Exclusive Info#bc i dont wanna leak Early Access stuff but i have to get this out of my system rn and the new audio is part of what sparked these thoughts#which is funny bc i. literally haven't even listened to it yet. i'm not Ready 😭#where's that tiktok screenshot that's like. 'hyperfixation so bad that i can't even engage with the source material' bc that's me rn#like bro Sam only won the poll like. 2 or 3 days ago and Eric is Already dropping a new Sam audio?? hello? Mr. Redacted i wasn't prepared#anyways i was spoiling myself by perusing the comments last night trying to get a feel for if it's gonna be more angst or comfort#and i saw a comment that absolutely shattered me. and it reignited all my sad thoughts about Sam's eventual. uh. y'know. death.#apparently they plant a tree together or smthn in the new audio (which already has me & my beloved 10y/o orange tree feeling some kinda way#but to the individual in the comments who brought to all our minds the image of Sam sitting beneath that tree in 30 or so years time#when he's decided that he's ready to die and sits out there waiting for the sun to rise..................... 🥲#i'm gonna need u to compensate me for all of that unexpected emotional damage /j /nm#i'm Still not over what he told Darlin' while they had their talk about the future up on his roof together. that audio killed me#then yesterday i was listening to my Sam & Darlin' playlist while cleaning. and Malibu Nights by LANY came on. which i always skip bc Sad#but i let it play and just started crying. standing in the middle of the room all disheveled and holding a broom. as one does.#iirc that song is one that Eric himself said is applicable to Sam which is why/how i found it and put it on the playlist. and god. g o d#hm. i hope that wasn't Patreon exclusive info. i can't remember if it was a public post where he said that or not. hope it's okay to share#but if we can take that song as like. unofficial canon for Sam then that also confirms my idea that he used to drink to cope#which makes the opening lines of Fix What You Didn't Break by Nate Smith even more applicable. i should go edit that post actually#anyways i'm just. feeling a lot. and i love Sam very much and i don't want him to die. but i want him to do what he wants at the same time#Alexis took so fucking much from him. he deserves to live - and end - his life on his own terms. ... i think i need to go write something#*casually fishes this post out of the drafts 3 and a half days later* hi so uh. i wrote a 4k oneshot :) and will hopefully post it tomorrow
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babeyun · 18 days ago
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falling alone ✩ l.hs [m]
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⇢ part of the modus operandi series! synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s. genre: established relationship au ; strained lovers. angst, fluff, smut pairing: lieutenant!lee heeseung x therapist!housewife!reader (i love plot twists) word count: 39.5k rating: 18+. minors please do not interact. warnings: for realism purposes, everyone is aged up (22-29 ; not my favorite but it is what it is.) strained marriage/relationship dynamics, workaholic dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics that are not meant to be romanticized. talks of therapy, food mentions, birth control mention, talks of having a family. detailed descriptions of disappearances, missing persons, etc. y/n feels neglected (girl STAND UP). sex as a temporary fix, swearing, alcohol, smoking. unrequited love, lots of pining on both ends. smut warnings: multiple scenes (two and a half...just read it), heeseung has a thing for y/n in business attire, petnames (baby, babe, princess, etc.,) unexplored daddy kink, heavy petting, frottage, slight body worship (m&f.rec.) nipple play, light spanking, oral (m&f. rec), squirting, lots of pillowtalk, marking, dom/sub dynamics, hair pulling, slight degrading/praise, handholding during sex (because i'm soft so what), switch!hee x switch!yn, unprotected sex (don't do this), doggy, missionary (not a babeyun fic if it's not missionary and body worship, i fear) creampie (i hate this word so bad.) i think that's it! what to listen to: falling - harry styles ; tu falta de querer - mon laferte ; seasons - dawn, gemini ; stardust - ben webster ; my foolish heart - bill evans trio ; no song without you - honne ; take me - miso ; say - keshi ; may i have this dance - francis & the lights ; unchained melody - the righteous brothers ; can't take my eyes off you - frankie valli ; can this morning never end - davin kingston ; too good - christian kuria ; u send me swingin' - mint condition ; you and me - lifehouse. author's note: it's finally fucking here, SEVEN MONTHS later. i cannot believe my life took such a turn that my original timeline of getting these all out back out to back turned into me ghosting the internet. this being said, i really hope you guys enjoy the push and pull that are heeseung and y/n in this. they're insane but they're in love and that's all that matters. special thanks to my dearest @enhaven for all her encouragement and kind words. star dividers by @/saradika here on tumblr!
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Friday, 9:23PM.
 "Late night?" Your voice has always been a comfort to him. The way you cooked dinner every night, the way you washed his hair for him, the way you laid in bed with him – it was all comforting. Your soft eyes, eyes that hadn't seen an inch of a crime scene. Your gentle hands, hands that would never cock a gun and aim to kill.
You were home to him, and he hated that he couldn't leave his work at the precinct. He always brought it with him, anywhere he went…anywhere you were.
"Not really. Caught a session with Dr. Bahng, I'm sorry about dinner." He loosens his tie, trying to ignore the way your eyes follow his fingers. He takes his wedding ring off for work – insisting it snags on the gloves when gathering evidence, that he never wants to sully it with such grime. "How was your night?" Your sigh may be inward, but his eyes catch everything. Every frustrated twitch of your brows, the way your nose crinkles at the half-assed apology. Your eyes linger on the linoleum floor, and he fights the urge to pull you into his arms. He fights the urge to show any weakness to your feelings, he can't let go of work. He has to be strong, he has to be coarse, he has to be cold.
"It was…fine." You wave him off, moving to take the full plates off the table. Only then does Heeseung notice that you're still in your jeans, your white top neatly tucked into them. Your feet are clad in fresh socks, almost as if you were about to go out when he arrived. His eyes scan you as you move around, pulling his tie completely off and bunching it into his pocket. "Are you going out with your friends?" You don't reply as you scrape the cold food into the trash can, and he focuses on the sound of your bracelet lightly clinking with the handle of the fork. Your shoulders sag, soft curls of your hair sweeping over your face as you move to place the dishes in the sink. He sighs, before his legs move him behind you. "Why are you upset, honey?" "I'm not, I'm not upset." You scoff, turning the tap to hot when you feel Heeseung's hands ghost over your waist. You knew better than to attempt to hide anything from him, especially with the way his brain was literally trained to analyze your every movement. His lips press softly to your cheek as his fingers untuck your top, "I know you better than that." You're silent as his fingertips trace the soft skin of your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder. He's going to wait until you decide you want to talk, despite knowing it will be the same argument you have every single week.
The same argument that always ends up unresolved as you kiss in your bed, sheets tangled between your bodies. It's enough to hold off on actually talking about it, it's enough to semi-satisfy the lack of attention you got from him during the week. It wasn't enough to feed his unvoiced, almost insatiable hunger for you, and how he wished he could just douse you in his love and affection until the sun rose. It wasn't nearly enough, because he'd still have to pry himself from the comfort of your warm embrace to step foot in the precinct and inhale the stench of evil in the world.
He felt awful, really. That he could never truly show you how much he loved you, how emotionally constipated his job made him…how his sessions with Dr. Bahng were no longer of much help. "Leave work at work, Lieutenant. You have the love of your life waiting for you at home." He had it memorized at this point.
"It's always the same thing, don't worry about it." You turn the tap off, feeling the guilt about wasting water seeping into your stomach. You weren't going to wash the dishes, you knew you weren't. You just wanted to lay down in bed with your husband, basking in the few minutes of attention he'd be able to give you before falling asleep. 
"Baby." You wince at the pet name, one so foreign on his lips. One you so rarely heard, long lost in your college memories. You grimace as you turn in his hold, his hands now resting on your hips. "Don't baby me, Heeseung." "Don't Heeseung me, Y/N. I know something is bothering you, and whether it's tonight, tomorrow, or next week – I'm not letting you go to bed like this." He looks at you through tousled locks, his eyes speaking for him. Just talk to me.
You shake your head in subtle disbelief, attempting to push past him when he pins you against the counter gently. "Let me go, Heeseung." "Not until you tell me what's going on." His voice is harsh, one he also rarely uses with you. Heeseung was always gentle, soft-spoken. "I've been at work all day, dealing with shit I can barely stomach. I just want to come home and spend time with you, what's wrong?" He's starting to whine, and it does nothing but make your eyes sting with tears.
"I just want to spend time with you, without having to beg you for it." You breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his gaze. "You remember everything, Hee. I know you had to remember that tonight is date night." Sighing, you peel your eyes open to a guilty husband watching you with his own tired ones.
"I'm sorry, honey. It really did slip my mind. Let me…let me just take a shower and we can go have a night on the town, okay?" He starts to walk away, fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt when you clear your throat. "It's fine, Heeseung. Let's just go to bed."
"No, let me fix this. We haven't had dinner, and we haven't spent time together in weeks." He slips his dress shirt off as he leaves your line of vision, and you just slump against the counter. He was right, and you hated that you knew he was. Heeseung was always this way, though, shouldn't you be used to it by now?
Yes, he was gentle and soft-spoken, with a touch of dirty humor and thoughtfulness that always made your heart race a little faster. Your relationship was built on a lot of comfort and deep talks, ones that usually involved you unraveling yourself entirely just to get a taste of his own secrets. The two of you had met in college, about three days after the disappearance of his childhood best friend, Cha Soyoung.
Heeseung was even more cold and stoic, and wasn't interested in so much as even befriending you. He didn't really speak, which according to his friends, was unnatural. They wound up being close friends of yours as well, thanks to Park Sunghoon, and the seven of them all also ended up working at the same precinct. "Heeseung talks…a lot. Not as much as Jay, but he's just going through a hard time right now." Sunghoon said as he sipped his drink, carefully chewing the tapioca pearls as the two of you walked. "It's not everyday your best friend of twenty years goes missing, you know?"You had shrugged, not really understanding what it was like. Your parents had moved you around a lot as a kid, and it was hard to make friends until they finally settled when you got into your last year of high school. You had met Sunghoon there, but only met the rest of your friends through him that following summer – except Heeseung. He'd gone home with Soyoung for the summer, returning to Seoul for the fall semester at Decelis University with her and your other friends. You still never spoke, until now.
You and Sunghoon were swinging by his dorm to help pass out flyers.
"Hey, Hoon. Y/N." Heeseung spoke quietly as he opened the door, his eyes nearly swollen shut from crying for the past three days. Your jaw dropped as you looked at his face, not at all recognizing the boy in front of you. Sure, you'd only ever seen pictures of Heeseung but you knew enough to know that this…wasn't him. Neither you nor Sunghoon spoke as Heeseung moved for the two of you to follow him, shutting the door behind you.
"How are you feeling?" Sunghoon asked as he trashed his drink, your own now sweating on a coaster on Heeseung's coffee table as the man gathered things around his dorm. You stood awkwardly as you swung your backpack onto the couch, opening it for Heeseung to slide the flyers in when you saw him shake his head. 
"I don't feel much, actually." 
Sunghoon glanced at you, but your legs moved before you could think. You rounded the table to Heeseung, who looked at your extended arms and empathetic eyes with cold ones. He'd set down the papers in his hands, fingers splayed across them momentarily before turning back to you and awkwardly entering your embrace. Your fingers easily found the nape of his neck, and his rigid form quickly softened as he breathed shakily into your shoulder. "M'Sorry." He mumbled as you felt a few tears soak through your shirt, and you just shook your head. 
Sunghoon also wound up wrapping his arms around the two of you. Something about the way that Heeseung's fingers clawed at your sides, and the way he sobbed into your shirt made you wonder how long he'd needed someone. Someone to ease the knot in his stomach, someone to help him see that this was something that would be solved and everything would be okay again. Someone to help him hop along until Soyoung was found, and someone to leave when she inevitably took her place again.
That was nine years ago. You and Heeseung began dating a year after that happened, a couple of months after the anniversary of Soyoung's disappearance. The police stopped looking, ruling her case as a runaway. You and Heeseung never stopped searching – you frequently asked cafe owners if you could pin missing posters on their corkboards, and even went door to door every few evenings asking if anyone had seen Soyoung. 
Heeseung had made it to the side of the law, and frequently reviewed the case to see if he had missed anything. He never had – you had all hit a dead end. Everyone's hope began to dwindle, but Heeseung never let that sway him. He even asked the forensics department to make age-progression posters, and they did. You'd pinned those up, too.
He was strong willed, he was diligent, he was determined. You love Heeseung, you love the person he is…
…But you hate that he can't leave his work at work. You hate that you get a crumb of his affection every few nights, whether it's his lips pressed against your cheek after dinner or his teeth nipping at your clavicle while hovering above you in bed. You hate that you find yourself longing for him even more than you did in college, despite now having him in the deepest way – as your husband, the person who loves you. 
The man who shed a singular tear as he watched you walk down the aisle, the man who supported you when your career wasn't what you expected. The man who endlessly told you he loved you in ways that weren't so evident to the naked eye – like leaving the warm water for you and showering in the ice cold, leaving the last slice of cake for you, rubbing your feet while watching Law and Order with you on days he didn't work (read: on days you pried him out of the home office.)
Heeseung loves you, you know that. You just can't shake the feeling that it won't be for much longer.
"Tuck in your shirt."
His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look up to see your husband now unrolling a pair of clean socks, speaking around a wide toothed comb between his teeth. He drapes the socks over the back of a chair, eyes glued to his reflection in the hallway mirror as he combs through his hair quickly. 
Rolling your eyes, you tuck in your shirt haphazardly as he parts his hair down the middle. "You can't go out with your hair wet, you'll get sick." You call as you make your way down to the bathroom, pulling open one of the cabinets to fish out your hair dryer. "I don't have time to dry my hair. In sickness and health, anyway." Heeseung yells down the hall, and you bite back your chuckle.
"But why make yourself sick? Sit, I'll dry it while you put on your socks." You untangle the cord, plugging it into the wall as Heeseung pouts. "The sound makes me sleepy! If I'm sleepy, we can't go out." He shakes his head, and you put a hand on your hip as you give him a pointed look. He sighs, tugging a chair towards you and plopping down.
"You're throwing a tantrum like a child. Mom, I don't want to wear my coat! Mom, I don't want my peas touching my mashed potato!" You mock his behavior, making him sulk further into the chair and creasing his shirt. "Sit up!"
He does, and watches you through the mirror as you carefully comb your fingers through his hair. He wonders why you forgive him so easily, why you do these things for him when he doesn't feel like he deserves it. The wasted dinner, the way you roll his socks after doing his laundry (that he insists he can do himself.) He wonders what he's done to make you love him so dearly.
"Where d'you wanna go? Olive You More? Thyme for Love?" His voice leaves the sulky attitude behind, as your fingers card through his damp hair, and you grimace. "Why are all our favorite restaurants so cheesy? It's disgusting." "Well, we could try that new one down by the river. Pasta La Vista, I think it's called." He taps his lips with his fingers, and you catch the glint of his gold wedding band snuggled around his left ring finger. You ignore the way your heart flutters, as you lightly smack his shoulder. "No more pun restaurants! We're not in college anymore." "Ah, but I love going to those places with you. I.." The words get caught in Heeseung's throat, as they always do. He always feels like he's saying it for the very first time, just like he did all those years ago in the middle of the woods. You got stuck in a blackberry bush, and it just slipped out.
"You..?" You ask, looking at him through the mirror. Your eyes are full of concern, a look he never stops seeing. It bothers him. "I love you." He mumbles shyly, looking away to pick at his cuticles. He doesn't see the gentle smile on your glossed lips, and feels your soft hair brush his neck as you lean to kiss his cheek. 
"Mmh, I would hope so." "Yah, say it back." He pouts as he turns to face you, and you can only smile wider before you place a chaste kiss on his lips. "I don't need to, you know who my heart calls home. Now, get up. We've got a delicious pasta dinner to inhale, and breadsticks to steal." He doesn't ask you to say it back again, only watching as you walk away with a skip in your step. He knows, he does. He knows you love him, he knows your heart calls him home. He knows you love him.
He's just worried it won't be for much longer.
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Saturday, 10:32am.
"Good morning." Your voice is raspy with sleep, eyes still slightly shut as you whisper into his skin. It's a God-given miracle that he's still in bed next to you, instead of slipping out early like a college hookup. 
Unfortunately, that happened more often than not. "Have we always had such shitty curtains? I can't sleep with so much light." He groans, tugging your arm over his head as he moves to snuggle into your chest. His breathing softens as you pull him slightly closer, wrapping your arms fully around his head and shoulders. "Mmh, if you were still in bed by the time I woke up for the day, you'd know." "You know I can't be." He sighs, and you feel the ticklish sensation of his lips feathering over your clavicle. His teeth tug lightly at your necklace, one he gave you for your second anniversary, months after the wedding. He loves that you never take it off. 
"It's not a matter of if you can, it's a matter of if you want to." "Don't pull that, you know I do." He kisses your skin before burying his face into your neck. "I'd never leave this bed if it were up to me." His teeth are once more doing their oh-so routine nipping at the exposed skin of your shoulder, before you shift out of his reach. "We should get breakfast."
You turn onto your back, stretching your arms above your head with a soft yawn. Though blurred with fatigue, your eyes see Heeseung perfectly, his head resting lightly on your stomach. His fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear, thumb slightly slipping beneath to rub at the skin of your hip. Your tattoo peeks through, one Heeseung never lets you forget you have. His faded initials mock the both of you. "Or, counter offer: you can be my breakfast." 
You snort, propping yourself up your elbows to get a good look at the man now in your lap. He's pressing soft kisses around your navel, eyelashes fluttering slowly as his lips pepper around your warm skin. "Hee, you barely ate dinner."
"I've barely eaten you. I'm a man deprived, please?" His eyes finally peer up at you, and you scoff out a laugh, running a hand through your mussed curls. You shake your head as you tongue your cheek, allowing him to pull at the hem of your panties once more. "I'm not above begging, if that's what it takes. You know I'll do it." "Just take them off, you big baby. You're cheesy as shit, too." You roll your eyes as he grins, a playful bite to your outer thigh as he begins to move you around as he pleases. 
"Open." He kneels on the bed, knuckles rapping on your knees to part them. You can't help but roll your eyes again, but comply as he tugs down your underwear. It flies somewhere across the room, forgotten in a corner to gather dust, Heeseung completely unaware as he lies on his stomach.
"I've missed this." He sighs, before placing a chaste kiss on your inner thigh. "I miss you, most of all. I promise I'll be home earlier this week, baby." He doesn't give you a chance to respond as his tongue quickly finds home between your legs, softly licking at every inch he can reach. Your lip is tucked beneath your teeth, fingers grabbing at anything you can…
When his phone starts ringing. He groans into your skin, the vibrations making you shiver as disappointment takes over. He ignores the sound, choosing to pull you closer onto his face when you push his shoulder with your foot. "Just answer it, Hee." "I don't want to." His voice is muffled as his tongue collects your forming arousal, a soft moan from his throat as you squirm in his hold. "H-Hee, what if it's important?" "What if it's not? What could possibly be more important than you and I at this very moment?" His eyes are filled with a mix of annoyance and desire as he rests his cheek against your thigh. You hate the pitiful groan that escapes your lips as you reach for his phone, answering it for him. "Work." 
Sighing, he moves off the bed as he takes the call, motioning for you to stay as he speaks. "Go for Lee."
Complying, you simply become a jellyfish of a human, sprawled across your bed. You wonder why you answered the phone for him, why you pushed him to take the call. It bothers you that even now, you have begun prioritizing his work over your relationship, when you both promised each other that your love, affections and time for each other would never dwindle.
You can't say it has, though, at least for you. You love Heeseung, one could even say that distance has made your heart grow fonder. Not seeing him often has made you a bit more independent, and every time you find yourself eating dinner at the table alone, you're reminded of your mother. 
How she berated you for marrying for love and not stability, how she shamed you for abandoning the career that drained you of everything you had. You dislike how easy it was for her to get into your head, so much so that you'd spent all of yesterday applying for new jobs in your field, while waiting for Heeseung to get home – and hopefully have your regular date night.
Not that he was even around to have said date. Sure, he made it up to you…but at what cost?
As you begin to sink into your spiraling thoughts, Heeseung reappears in the doorway of your bedroom. He doesn't speak loud enough for you to hear as he beelines for the closet – a mumble of frustrations spilling from his lips as he rips a shirt off its hanger. Turning on your side, you cover your lower half with the blanket that's no longer warm before speaking to him. "Duty calls, huh?" "Yes." 
In silence, you watch as he buttons his shirt, the muted teal making his skin glow softly. He doesn't look you in the eyes as he revisits the closet, tugging on his favorite pair of brown slacks. A pair you made for him a few years ago, right after leaving your job – and you remember the way his eyes lit up as you presented them. You remember the way he kissed each of your fingertips that night, covered with bandaids from pin pricks. You remember returning home the next day from a girls' day with Chaewon, to find a packet of colorful silicone thimbles, and a few more pieces of glittery, cream-colored fabric laid out on your bed.
Fabric he'd used to make you a dress, with flutter sleeves and a deep v-neckline. Fabric he'd used to sit and carefully hand-stitch the flowy sarong skirt. When did he find the time? He hadn't given you much of a chance to ask questions, before he insisted you put it on and let him take you out for a nice dinner.
It was the last time the two of you truly connected on something deeper than his work or your convenient unemployment. It was the last time that the two of you genuinely laughed together and did things from your younger years, like dancing in the twilight to no music and kissing in every corner possible on the walk home. The last time you wore his favorite perfume, because after that, months passed without a second thought about you.
The silence between you has grown neutral – not entirely comfortable, because who wants to spend their days without hearing the love of their life speak to them? Laugh with them, maybe even get into a bit of a spat with them that shows your relationship is becoming more than just the bare minimum? Certainly not you, and by the way Heeseung robotically loops his tie while staring you down in the mirror, a look of longing in his eyes before turning to you.
"I won't be long, I promise." 
He notes the way your head tilts, the way an understanding smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes takes over your face. "Don't worry, take your time." The way your hair is effortlessly splayed around your head, life's odd attempt at recreating the halo to represent the absolute angel you are. One Heeseung doesn't deserve.
You get up, swinging your bare legs over the side of the bed before grabbing for your bath towel. "I'll get ready for my day, and maybe…" You trail off as your toes touch his shoes – he wore them in the house sometimes, a habit of his you despised. 
"And maybe we can catch lunch together?" He finishes, a shy smile crossing his lips as you place a gentle kiss on his cheek. His arm snakes across your naked waist, fingers lightly pinching your hip as you smile into his skin.
"Maybe. Drive safe."
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Heeseung knows that Dr. Bahng told him to leave work at work. However, Dr. Bahng said nothing about bringing home to work. He said nothing about thinking about you at work, or missing you, or daydreaming about you instead of analyzing the reports that a pair of rookies messed up. He also said nothing about reading articles by some sketchy romance columnist on how to keep your relationship alive, which is exactly what Heeseung was scrolling through right now. 
There are things in a relationship that must always be shared in order to avoid, or resolve conflict. How the other person is making you feel, how you are making them feel, and how to tackle both negative checklists properly. It is key to always remember that it must be you and your partner against the problem, not you and your partner against each other.
You make Heeseung feel…alive. You make him feel loved, cherished, and even at some bizarre times, worshiped. You make him appreciate waking up at the ass crack of dawn, your sleeping face relaxed as he peppers kisses across your warm skin – something he's thankful never manages to wake you up, but it adds to all the adoration he holds in his heart for you.
How does he make you feel? Dejected, neglected, rejected. Pushed aside for the true love of his life – work. You never bring it up unless he asks. You never brought it up until last July, when he was slumped in his office chair after drinking half a bottle of sherry whiskey, listening to music and thinking about yet another dead end that deterred him from finding Soyoung. You had approached him with a gentle gaze, a soft touch to his shoulder and asking about taking a shower together. You never questioned him, you never pressured him, you never tried to make him something you assumed he just wasn't – an attentive, doting husband.
And he remembers how he asked you, too. He remembers spinning around in his chair, stoically asking you if he was everything you'd ever wanted. Asking you if he was living up to your expectations, as a husband, as a life partner, as a friend, even.
And he remembers the way you sighed carefully before perching on his desk. "You're everything I've ever wanted, and I'm sure you'll continue to grow and be even more deserving of the love I hold for you." You had smiled, your hand coming to rest on his cheek. "Nothing we can't work through, you know? If I was given a choice in another life, another world – I'd still choose you."
He will never forget it, and he can still feel the warmth of your lips against his as you led him to the bathroom. He can still feel the ache of your love on his skin from the way you held him under the running water, quietly basking in his presence as the mint of your shampoo filled his nose. Nothing is as special to him as you are. 
There are things that should routinely be shared in order to maintain a homeostasis of the calendar. Asking how their day was, if you have any ideas for dinner tonight, or if you'd like to do something this weekend to celebrate the mundane. It shouldn't be difficult to establish a routine with your partner, if you are in tune with them. A kiss goodbye in the morning, a warm embrace in the evenings. A shared meal, a shared bath, a shared bed. 
Heeseung can't remember the last time he fully checked in with you – you always have something to do. You always attempt new creative projects, and his fingers toy with the fabric of his slacks as he remembers that you hand stitched them. He thinks about how you waited for him all night yesterday, and the disappointment you must have felt when he arrived late. He thinks about how he just doesn't make time to tackle the problem that you two are constantly glossing over by being intimate – he knows you don't feel loved. 
He didn't ask you about your day yesterday, or the day before, or last week. He didn't ask you if you were sewing anything new, learning any new pieces on the piano collecting dust in the living room. He hasn't asked about your mother, but at least he knows you don't like to talk about her. 
Heeseung hasn't asked you a single thing about yourself, or your life in a while – and he doesn't know how long it's been. Even last night, your eyes were focused entirely on him – the way his lips twitched when you said you liked the wine he chose, the way he pulled your leg over his in the booth you were sharing. You asked him about work, and he just shook his head as he pointed out the new menu items. 
You love him so selflessly.
Something that works for my partner and I is parallel play. We aren't necessarily doing something together, but we are present in the same room and doing our own thing. Knowing that he is there, and that if I need him, I can reach for him, adds a comfort to our relationship. Aside from this, we also come together every two weeks and address any issues we may be experiencing – both in our relationship and our individual lives. We resolve the issues about us together, and advise the other on our personal issues. Balance!
You do this a lot. If Heeseung is home, you'll wander to wherever he is and sit down where you can, and quietly go about your business. Sometimes it's a new cross-stitch, sometimes it's just putting a headphone in and listening to music. Sometimes you're giving yourself a pedicure, sometimes you're just sitting there staring at his corkboard of paraphernalia while matching your breathing to his. It was subtle, something you thought he'd never notice.
He sighs, exiting out of the tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. Tugging it on, he uses one hand to log out of his computer when he hears three knocks on the door. A lightness of the rapping knuckles similar to yours…and your smiling face appears as you crack open the door. "Surprise?" He hates that he can't bite back his smile, a few of his fellow officers wide-eyed at his expression. He nods silently, and you extend your hand for him when you hear his coworkers whispering about you. With a dejected look, you tuck your hand back into the pocket of your jeans, "Guess we don't want them gossiping, right?" "Right." He mumbles, his own hand twitching around the doorknob as he pulls it shut behind him. He wants to reach for you, embrace the warmth you bring, show you off to the people he often calls his friends. Sunghoon catches his eye, a quizzical look on his face before shaking his head. 
Heeseung reaches for you, but you've already made your way towards the door. Your smile has lessened as you open the door, holding it for him. "How was work?" You ask as he joins you in the cool air, and he wastes no time wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in close, his nose buried in your hair. You hesitate to wrap your arms around him, instead leaning back to try and meet his eyes. "Hee?" "Don't ask me about work." He mutters, before pressing his lips to yours softly. You let out a noise of surprise, but you can't melt into his touch before he pulls away. "I hate talking about work, let's talk about you. Over lunch." He takes your hand in his, gently pulling you to his side as he makes his way to the car. He doesn't see yours in the parking lot, so he only assumes you got a rideshare before you clear your throat.
"Are you okay?" The words are slightly jumbled as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you, helping you step in. "Hm? Why do you ask?" "Well…you're actually out of the office. And you want to go to lunch…and you don't want to talk about work?" Your voice is meek, and it makes his chest ache as he reaches to buckle your seatbelt in for you. "I just want to spend time with you. Shall we?" His smile is a little forced, until he sees the soft gloss of embarrassment over your eyes.  "Okay."
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Tuesday, 6:23pm.
You don't really know what snapped inside of Heeseung over the weekend. He even took Monday off, turning off his phone after calling in sick and snuggling back into your embrace. He spent all of Sunday asking you random questions throughout the day, wandering around the house as you tried to pick up to start the week off fresh. He would hold the laundry basket so you could separate the clothing, he would hold the step stool so you could dust the corners of the living room – he even re-caulked the window in your bedroom because you were sitting at your vanity doing your makeup. He seemed restless to get all of these answers out of you, and while you didn't mind, you knew this attention was only temporary.
Duty called, after all.
However…he was home earlier than usual. He typically had his session with Dr. Bahng right after dinner time, but it seems your habit of making two portions is deemed fruitful tonight. He's sitting in front of you, having arrived home thirty minutes prior – showered and ready to share a meal with you. Just like he did this weekend, just like he did when your relationship first started out.
You remember sharing meals with him in your dorm room. Your roommate was almost never there, always spending time with her girlfriend – so you had free range of the entire place. Heeseung slept over almost every night, and the two of you would stay up at all hours of the night – whether it was discussing 80s cold cases or your major.
Your major…it wasn't necessarily hard. It was one of those things that was only difficult if you didn't really like it, if you didn't have a passion for it. It was one of those things that took someone strong, both mind and body. You wanted to help better the world, see how things could change at your fingertips. You wanted to eat the world in one bite, and it simply wasn't possible – no matter your hard-earned master's degree or your passion for helping people. It was a time of realization – and it was funny, that you had the same qualifications as Dr. Bahng, but your career would never bear fruit like his.
You never really made a difference, like Dr. Bahng did. You didn't even get through to your husband like he did.
So when you came home one night a few years ago and saw Heeseung sitting at the table, waiting for you, you wondered if any of the people you helped that day would ever get to live content. You quit the very next day, your mind tortured over people you didn't know and things you couldn't control. It took a while before you got out of your head again – and even longer before you finally left your bed. It was this time when your relationship with Heeseung really tried to prove itself worthy of your time and effort – because though he wasn't home with you, to soothe your swirling anxieties and racing mind throughout the day, he was there.
He was there, with plates of fruit and warm tea. He was there, with a hairbrush gently forking through your matted hair. He was there, letting you cry yourself to sleep in his embrace and leaving early the next morning, with bags under his eyes. He understood, somehow, that you needed him more than ever before in those moments, and it seemed like that version of Heeseung was starting to reemerge – this time, without need.
"Are you hiding something from me?" You blurt, and Heeseung nearly chokes on his bite of food. Coughing, he reaches for his glass of water as you pat his back, offering him a napkin to wipe his lip. Taking a sip of water, he looks at you. "We haven't spoken all day and that's how you start a conversation?" He seems amused, a look you don't see on him often anymore. You can feel the heat of embarrassment crawling up your throat, and he pushes his plate forward, choosing to fold his hands on the table before he clears his throat. "I realize…I haven't been the best husband." You can feel your eyes begin to roll, when he taps the table. "I have never been very good to you, and yet, you've stood by me. Through ups, downs…you helped me out of a very dark place when Soyoung went missing." He clears his throat again, and your eyes catch the way he blinks back a few tears. "And I've given you near nothing in return." "Marriage is not transactional." You say gently, and he shakes his head. "Isn't it, though? In the eight years we've been together, you've given me so much. You take care of me, of our home. You…You can just do it all, and I admire it. I really, really do." He runs a hand through his hair, before reaching for your hand. You allow him to take it, and you hate to admit that a bit of skepticism is beginning to settle in your stomach. 
"Why are you saying all of this? It's never mattered before, you know." Heeseung can sense something in your tone that you don't seem to catch. A hint of…frustration, anger, maybe even resentment. He knows you probably have more to say, and that whatever it was would most likely hurt his feelings.
He kind of wants you to, though, and you do – letting go of his hand. He folds them, his plate abandoned in order to take you in fully.
"Do you not want to talk about this? I can drop it, but it'll just come back up, honey." He asks gently, his head tilted to the side as he scans your face. You suck on your teeth, your fork pushing your food around before you sigh. "Maybe you're right." "About?" He straightens, his hands still folded on the table. You give him a guilty look, though he doesn't know what you could possibly have to feel guilty about. 
"You're right, you haven't been the best husband. Hell, I don't think you've ever even really been a good husband, if we're being honest about it." 
Heeseung doesn't react, and doesn't allow his face to move as you speak. He's finally broken the dam, because now you're rambling and you can't seem to stop.
"Was it ever going to be me, I mean, really? They say that being good to the people you love really takes no effort, that it's not hard to be doting and attentive to the person you love. You have such a hard time being here for me, you have the worst time detaching yourself from work and the cases you see everyday. You come home at whatever time is convenient for you, while I wait for you like an idiot." You blurt, and Heeseung breathes in carefully, so as to not startle you. He nods, closing his eyes.
He can sense the impending lump in your throat. He's never really seen you get angry – frustrated, irritated, even annoyed have all been emotions he's both seen and enticed. You've never been angry, you've never exploded on anybody.
"Do you ever think what your life would be like if Soyoung were still around?" 
His eyes snap open at this, brow furrowing slightly but either you don't notice or don't seem to care, because you keep going.
"Do you think you'd even care about me if she was here? I get it, she's your best friend, maybe even the love of your life. I wouldn't blame you at all if I was just a placeholder until she was found." 
He's watching your face as you speak, the way your lower lip trembles slightly and your chest rises and falls in shallow breathing. Your hands shake as you reach for the plate in front of him, shoving it under your own before standing up.
His chest aches at the idea of you thinking that anyone but you could ever be the love of his life, but can't bring himself to open his mouth and tell you.
"As shitty as it sounds, the more the years pass, the more I hope she's found. Maybe then you will truly have someone to love, someone who will fulfill your needs just as you like. Maybe then I won't have to pretend that I don't know I'm second to someone who isn't around." You murmur, and Heeseung feels his stomach churn a bit as you stand, taking the plates to the kitchen. You place them in the sink, holding the cool metal of the basin before turning back to him.
"I love you, Heeseung. I loved you then, I love you now, and I may love you for the rest of my life." You speak softly, stepping back to the table. You lean on the back of a chair, the necklace hanging around your neck mocking him in the dim light. "But me loving you, will never make you truly happy. I don't need you to tell me, you know? Knowing I can keep you company, knowing that you won't be alone, is fine with me. You don't need to love me."
You smile gently, the gloss on your lips sparkling. It's one of his favorites, it tastes like vanilla.
"You don't need to love me the way I love you, for me to know you care. So, don't worry about it. You don't need to check in with me, you don't need to…reciprocate." You shrug, taking the cups off the table, and turning back to the kitchen. You stop, looking over your shoulder. "And, Heeseung?" He can't bring himself to speak. He tries to clear his throat, but you proceed anyway.  "Don't forget date night this Friday."
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Thursday, 12:46pm.
You'd dropped by the precinct randomly, seeing Heeseung hunched over his computer from the entrance. The new receptionist asked you who you were here to see, and you gave his name, holding up the bag of food you brought with you. 
"Lieutenant Lee doesn't take visitors." The receptionist rolls her eyes, and you hear Sunghoon before you see him. "Minseo, this is the Lieutenant's wife."
You whirl around to see your long-time friend, who smiles down at you. "Good to see you again. Dr. Lee." He speaks politely, making Minseo blush furiously as she prints a pass for you. She apologizes profusely, but you just shake your head and give her a warm smile, adjusting your purse on your shoulder.
"How're you, Hoon?" You ask as you paste the sticker onto your jacket, and he shrugs as he drapes his arm over your shoulders. "Could be better, could be worse. However, I did hear from a little bird that you and Heeseung got into a fight." Rolling your eyes, you know that Sunghoon is just stirring the pot. He seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to your relationship with Heeseung – seeing as he was the one who got the two of you together in the first place. 
"We didn't…ugh, we didn't fight. We just…had a conversation. I'll tell you about it, when are you off? We can get dinner." You say as the two of you reach Heeseung's office. He shakes his head.
"Don't put me in the middle. I'll text you though, we do need to catch up." He says, knocking on Heeseung's door for you. You hear your husband's tired voice, and Sunghoon opens the door. "You've got a special visitor." 
You don't miss the way Heeseung's exhausted eyes look up at you, lighting up the moment they land on your face. You almost crack a smile at this, before Sunghoon shoves you in lightly. "Enjoy your lunch, Lieutenant." Heeseung doesn't say anything. The two of you hadn't really spoken since Tuesday night, and he certainly didn't expect you to come by today. Or any day, really…he remembered the first time you ever dropped by the precinct. He'd welcomed you with a tight smile, before asking you to let him know beforehand next time. You didn't do it again, for years.
"Mind if I close these?" You ask, gesturing to the blinds, and he shrugs. He doesn't close out any of his tabs as you set the food down, kneeling on the couch lining the wall to close his blinds. He takes this moment to take you in. You were wearing his favorite dress on you, the pink one with the white-lined circle seams. You're shrugging off your jacket now that the blinds are closed, draping it over the chair in front of his desk. "I brought you lunch, I hope that's okay. I probably should have called ahead." You gesture to the bag on the table, but his eyes just peer over the monitor, his brow twitching up as you sit gingerly on the edge of the couch. He hadn't cleared up or refuted any of your points on Tuesday, but the guilt he felt that night was enough to make him sleep in the guest room. He didn't know that didn't make you feel any better, in your mind it just cemented your opinions as you let your pillow soak up a few stray tears. 
"You look gorgeous." He murmurs as you unpack quietly, uncapping containers and sniffing them to figure out what is what. You stop, holding a bowl of broth to your face when you register what he said. "What?" "I said, you look gorgeous." He repeats himself, quickly typing up a rather unprofessional email to the rest of the precinct and letting them know he'd be leaving after lunch. He shoots it off, exiting the tab before standing up and stretching. His shirt is messily untucked, and he can feel your eyes on him as he twists to relax his back muscles. "Thank you…I think." He shrugs, ignoring the pang in his chest at your uncertainty before glancing over the array of food you'd brought with you. You seem a bit unsure about it all, but they're all his favorite dishes. He doesn't see any of yours – no soft tofu stew, no cold noodles, not even the tea you like. He keeps scanning your face as you prepare everything silently.
"Have you eaten already? I know you don't like any of these dishes." He asks, squatting next to you. You smile down at him, shrugging. "I'll eat at home. You left breakfast on the table this morning, so I figured you'd be hungry."
He had left breakfast on the table, but not for the reason you think. His morning routine consisted of showering, brushing his teeth and washing his face, putting his clothes on and, as creepy as it sounds, staring at you as you slept. He didn't kiss you this morning, like he usually did, but he desperately wanted to. So much so that he lost track of time just watching you sleep so peacefully, and had to run out of the house without it.
"I'm sorry, baby. I was in a rush." He pouts, and you just shake your head. "Don't worry about it. What's one day?"
It's everything. He thinks he feels your cold demeanor seep into his bones a bit, but your eyes are still warm as ever. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes, but your hand ruffles his hair lightly. He lifts slightly to sit next to you, and you press your lips to his cheek, your lipstick stamping on his skin. "You smell nice." He doesn't respond, his cheeks and ears tinging pink as you hand him utensils. Leaning back, you rest your head against the window sill, not noticing he's made no effort to even touch the food you've brought. Still, better now than never.
"I have something to tell you." You murmur, and he hums in response. 
"I figured about as much." He leans back with you, holding a rice cake between his teeth before shoving into his mouth. "Do tell, Dr. Lee." You stare at your manicured nails, the french tip suddenly bothersome to your eyes. "I had an interview this morning, at the fifth precinct. In the next town over. " 
He sits up, turning to face you completely. "Okay. How'd it go? I did hear that Dr. Park was retiring." Not a hint of malice in his voice, just pure curiosity. Encouragement, support.
"They said I can start next week. Three patients a day for two weeks, and then I will take over Dr. Park's patients as well. Well, those who want to transfer over." You don't know why you're nervous telling him this. His eyes scan your face, and you groan. "Why are you staring at me?" "You don't seem very happy about it." He says, tilting his head to the side as he bites into another rice cake. "I am happy about it. I just…it's a little far and I won't be home before you are on nights you're not set to see Dr. Bahng. I won't get to make dinner and I'll be out of the house before you are most days." 
You stop yourself from rambling, watching as Heeseung looks at you intently. He glances at the food spread out on the table, before shoving the other half of the rice cake he bit into his cheek. "C'mon."
He gets up, yanking his coat off the hanger by the door, before opening it. "Where are we going? Heeseung, the food-" "Sunghoon, lunch on me." He calls out the door, before grabbing your jacket off the chair and your purse. Looking at you, he watches as you sit still, confusion on your face before he walks over, draping your jacket over your shoulders. "C'mon, we've got to celebrate. We can go to that French place you love." 
Amused, you shove your arms through the sleeves of your jacket before standing. "Heeseung, you hate that place." Rolling your eyes, you reach for your purse, only for him to grab your hand and pull you in. His lips are on yours, a chaste kiss shared before he leans his forehead against yours.
"But I love you, and I'm proud of you. So let me show you, yeah?" 
You blink up at him, before hearing Sunghoon's grunt of feigned disgust. "C'mon, guys, not in the office!"
"Shut up, man." Heeseung rolls his eyes, lacing his fingers in yours, and you hear the soft clink of metal. Ignoring the bickering between the two men, you look down, you see his engraved wedding band gleaming up at you, having knocked with an old silver ring of his that you'd taken after it stopped fitting him. "You're wearing your ring." "Hm?" He glances down at you, before smiling. "Oh, yeah. I figured…I don't know. I like seeing it, it was silly of me to think the way I did about it."
Sunghoon scoffs at the sudden mushiness, and you look up to see half the precinct staring you down. Heeseung has your lipstick stamped on his cheek, and you feel embarrassed as the two of you get walked out by Sunghoon. Jungwon passes by, doing a double take when he sees the lipstick on your husband's face.
He smiles at you, a knowing look in his eyes as the two of you skirt past. Heeseung stops at the receptionist's desk, her smile disappearing the moment she sees your lipstick on his cheek. He asks her to cancel all his appointments for the day, and to let Captain Choi know that he would be taking the weekend off. She just nods, and Heeseung bids everyone goodbye with a whistle.
"She hates me, you know." You mumble, and he gives your hand a squeeze. “She can hate you all she wants, doesn’t change anything. Waste of her own energy.”
You don’t know what to make of this. In a way, you think you’ve forgotten your husband’s demeanor. Heeseung squeezes your hand again, "Where's your car? Did you take a rideshare?"
His brow is furrowed as he scours the parking lot for your sedan, and you shake your head. "Saving gas, I have quite the commute." He scrunches his nose, before shrugging as the two of you make your way to his car.
He opens the door for you quietly, helping you up and going as far as taking your purse to hang behind his headrest. You always complained about the feeling of the straps against your neck when you leaned your head back.
"So." He starts, his fingers carefully turning the volume dial down as the soft jazz station he plays on his commute bleeds through the speakers. "So…what?" "Why didn't you tell me you were thinking of going back to work? I thought we told each other everything." He says pointedly, as he makes a turn into the street. The light at the end is still green, if he speeds up a bit, he should make it. He sees you shrug out of the corner of his eye.
"Didn't think it'd be important. If I'm honest, I didn't think you'd notice." He doesn't like the twinge of sadness in your voice, but you clear your throat before he can mention it. "Should we take a walk later, as well? The weather feels great." "Yeah, honey. Whatever you want." He nods, his turn signal flicked by his ring finger, and he doesn't miss your eyes on his hands as he makes the turn. "Hee?" "Yes?" "I'm sorry." You murmur, making him glance at you quickly before you turn your head back to look out the window. Before you know it, he's pulling into an empty parking lot behind an apartment complex, ignoring the onlooking eyes of a woman taking her trash out. He parks carefully, turning the car off before turning in his seat to look at you.
"Sorry?" He echoes, and you peer over your shoulder at him. Your eyes are glossed over, and he huffs out a humorless laugh. "Oh, my baby. Come here." His arms wrap around you carefully, your hands coming to cover your face as he tucks you into his shoulder. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N." "I do. I do, Heeseung. I was such a jerk on Tuesday–" Your muffled words stop as he pulls away, his warm fingers circling your shoulders and giving a soft squeeze. "No. You weren't a jerk, you were trying to communicate with me." "Still, I–" "No, Y/N. If anything, I've been a jerk." He huffs, letting go of your shoulders as his back hits the window lightly. "I've never been a good partner to you, and it's so incredibly unfair of me to think that you will just wait and wait until I just feel like being better to you." You blink at him owlishly, adjusting to tuck your legs under you. Your heels now sit on the car floor.
"I have never been good to you. No matter what it is, no matter where I am, I push you aside time and time again. It's like…" He stops, picking at his cuticles before sighing. "I love you so much. It's so hard for me to say and I still feel like some stupid teenager trying to figure out his feelings, but I know. I know I love you and I know you deserve to be loved far more than I can express." You rest your temple against the headrest, "Not everyone goes through what you did, though. I'd be foolish to think loving you would be an ordinary path." "And then you go and do that. God, you're so understanding and it kills me inside." He smiles pitifully, running a hand through his hair. "I want to deserve it. I want to come home and deserve the warm meals you make, I want to lay in bed with you and deserve your touch and your warmth and I want to deserve you."
His eyes sting with tears, and he hears a soft sigh from your lips. Lips he yearns for every second of the day, lips he loves to feel trail along his neck after a long day at work. Lips he pulls whines and moans out of, lips he kisses shimmery vanilla lip gloss off of.
You don't say anything, your fingers reaching for him in his lap. You interlock your hands, bringing his up to your lips and placing a soft kiss on his knuckles.
"I've thought about divorce, you know." You say quietly, his head snapping up to look at you. "What?" "Yeah." You breathe out, your fingers tightening around him. "I thought about leaving, I thought about taking one of the offers I've received in the last seven years for a job in the middle of a new city. I thought about packing up all my clothes, and phoning my mother for help. I figured, if she's my attorney, I can leave everything to you in lieu of me." Heeseung can feel his chest ache as you turn to look at him, your pearl drop earrings swinging with your hair as you do so. He feels like he's in a movie.
"But, I thought about being nineteen with you." "Nineteen?" "Nineteen." You laugh softly, your thumb now rubbing small circles into his skin. You place your other hand atop the pair, enveloping him in your warmth. "I thought about nineteen-year-old me, who saw nineteen-year-old you and felt the world come to a slow, slow stop."
You're staring up into the sky now, the odd sighting of the moon high in the sky at this hour was a good distraction. "I thought, what can I do to deserve him? What can I do to ease his pain, and help him hop through life until his answers are found, until he no longer needs me?" 
"I'll always need you." He blurts, and you nod. "You're selfish like that." He silently nods in agreement, and you speak again. "You're a selfish lover." "I know." He mumbles, not able to look you in the eyes as you sigh. "But, I like it."
"I like that you're selfish." You repeat, and he gives you a quick look. "I like that even when I don't feel loved by you, you wouldn't survive without me. In lieu of me, who?" Your voice is sweet, but he knows your words hold a bit of bitterness. You like the idea of him being nothing without you, and he can't blame you for that. If you'd treated him the way he did you, he'd wish ill upon you until he no longer could. He'd hate you.
"Shall we go?" You ask gingerly, and he nods as he turns in his seat, letting go of your hand. You allow it, buckling in your seatbelt as he readies himself, turning the key in the slot before you clear your throat. "Heeseung?" "Yes?" He hates the eagerness in his voice. He hates how he's like a dog the moment you offer a crumb of your attention, but it's what he deserves. He wants to be a lovesick fool for you, he wants your every word to burn and weigh on him like the heat of a thousand fires.
Your gentle smile kills him as you look into his eyes, a shrug to your shoulders as you let the words slip.
"I love you."
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Saturday, 6:43pm.
Thursday afternoon and all of Friday had been rather odd in your house.
Heeseung spent the days trailing behind you, even offering to take you out to shop for outfits for your new job in lieu of date night. You weren't surprised, though – he was always a fan of the way you styled yourself for work. Classy dresses, skirts that fell just below the knee. Long sleeved blouses with jeweled buttons, he felt like a Victorian man going nuts over the sight of your pantyhose-covered ankles.
Tonight, he'd made it a point to get slightly tipsy. You'd gone to a luncheon with your new boss earlier, so you'd arrived just as he was finishing up vacuuming the living room with a half-empty glass of bourbon and Stardust by Ben Webster played throughout the house. He wanted a bit of liquid courage for the conversation he knew the two of you had to have – that is, if he wanted things to start changing for the better.
"Hee?" You called from the foyer, watching as he spun to look at you, face slightly flushed from the alcohol. You let out a laugh, shrugging your coat off as he trekked the living room to greet you. "Babe! How was lunch? I figured I'd clean up here a bit, I know you hate when it gets messy…" Heeseung rambled on about the housework as you gingerly stepped out of your heels, nodding along to his tipsy conversation. You left your shoes in the tiled foyer, walking towards the kitchen for a drink of your own. Heeseung had bought you your favorite sherry whiskey as a congratulatory gift on your new job.
"Wait, let me pour. You must be tired." He stops you from grabbing the bottle off the bar in the kitchen, choosing to skirt around you and open the fridge for a nice cube of ice. You liked two, he remembers. "How was the lunch? Did you eat?" You shrug, "I nibbled. It wasn't very good, it was at that Italian place we don't like." You scrunch your nose as Heeseung hands you your drink, making his lips curve slightly. "Funny, I was going to say we should give it another try." "No way, they fucked up my tiramisu. Remind me to never recommend that place to Sunghoon." You scoff, missing the way your husband's eyes trail your relaxed form as you lean against the counter. "And one of the other doctors was asking me so many questions about myself, it was so annoying. Like, we're not going to be best friends, man." "Like what?" He asks, listening to My Foolish Heart by Bill Evans Trio echo through the house. It was one of the songs played at your wedding, one of the first songs you and Heeseung ever danced to in college. "Oh, Dr. Lee, are you married? Oh, Dr. Lee, do you have kids? Oh, Dr. Lee, what does your husband do? Like shut up! Why does it matter, you're my husband, not his." You roll your eyes, not noticing the way Heeseung's cheeks flush at your words. Downing your drink in one go, you wince slightly, likely from the ice clinking against your teeth but you shake it off. "So, what do we want for dinner?" You poke at his side, and his arm reaches for you. You willingly bring yourself into his embrace, his arms looping around you gently as your fingers hold his t-shirt. "You look so pretty in your little outfit." "Dinner, Heeseung. Use your noggin." You roll your eyes, and he just peers down at you with an odd look in his eyes. Full of…admiration? "You're so beautiful." You feel your cheeks warm as you try to play off his effect on you, clicking your tongue. "I need you to focus here, Lieutenant. Me, your wife, would like dinner." "I heard you, baby." He nods, pulling you closer. You huff, but allow yourself to rest your head against his chest. The two of you had not been…close in this manner in a very long time – you couldn't possibly date the last time he held you like this, it was that long ago. You hate how easily you're melting into him, the warmth of his body, the gentle caressing of his hands to the rhythm of the jazz song playing in the living room.
"Should we get take out? We can watch that movie you like, the one with Al Pacino." He murmurs, carefully tugging the elastic out of your hair, releasing the curls from the ponytail you'd tied back earlier. You nod against him quickly, "And Keanu Reeves?" The two of you look at each other, and he can feel a laugh bubble in his throat at how excited you look as he nods. "Yeah." "Okay! Okay, I'm…gonna go change, and then we can get settled and stuff. Okay?" You blink up at him, your fingers already making quick work of the buttons on your shirt. His lip is tucked between his teeth as his eyes rake your skin, and you scoff, tugging your shirt to cover your chest. "Heeseung! Pay attention!" "I am, baby! I am paying attention!" He laughs, throwing his hands up in defense. "God forbid I want to look at you!" "You're such a man, ugh!" You stick your tongue out at him, turning on your heel when you hear him call after you. "Yeah, well, I'm your man. Deal with it!" You hate how his words make you feel like a teenager as you scamper to your bedroom, quickly discarding your work clothes into the hamper by the door. You can hear Heeseung speaking on the phone in the kitchen, soft thank yous from his lips as you unclasp your bra, sighing in relief as you dig through your husband's drawer when you hear him start walking down the hall. 
"Jesus, warn a guy." He gasps dramatically from the doorway, and you roll your eyes as you tug one of his old band tees over your head. "Heeseung, you've literally eaten my ass." "You said you liked it!" He protests, and you snort. "It was okay. You act like you're so amazed by my boobs, you've seen them hundreds of times." You flip your hair out of the shirt, opening your own drawer to fish out a pair of bottoms. 
"Doesn't make me love them any less." He shrugs, checking his watch. "We have twenty minutes until the food gets here." You look up at him, your fingers rooting through the drawer as you take in his avoidant look. He's nibbling on his lower lip as he stares up at the ceiling fan, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. You scoff, "Honey, we've been together for eight years. If you want to have sex, you can say that." "You make me nervous!" He groans, and you laugh out loud. "What has gotten into you, Lee Heeseung? One week you're begging to eat me out and the next you can't even look at me in my underwear! Are you alright?" You snort as you pull out a pair of his old basketball shorts, and he sighs. "Uhm…Okay, fine. I want to talk about our…sex life? The…uhm, the way we kind of just skirt around all our issues with it." You blink, and you want to tell your heart not to get its hopes up at his words. This will all change in a week, your relationship is beyond fixing.
Right? "Okay. What about it? You don't like that we have sex when we can't communicate?" You nod, pulling the shorts over your legs and letting the waistband snap around your hips. He nods, fiddling with his watch when you put your hand on his wrist. "I need you to talk to me, Heeseung. You wanted to talk about this." "It's…" He breathes, running a hand through his hair as you pull him to the bed, sitting down as he slots himself between your knees. His fingers toy with the hem of the shorts you're wearing, clearing his throat. "I don't want you to think I don't…enjoy it. I love…being with you, in any way you'll have me." "Uh huh?" You interlace your fingers with his, his eyes avoiding yours. "I…want to stop doing that. I know that it's a big part of how we stay connected, uhm, intimately. I know I haven't been making much time for you outside of the bedroom and that's something I want to work on." You can feel your heart pick up a bit.
"So…you want to stop having sex altogether? Or you'd like to…fight and make up?" You tilt your head, feeling a wave of nervousness begin to seep into your stomach. He shakes his head quickly, "I don't think I could ever…I'd like to fight. A lot. As much as we need to." He blinks rapidly, eyes still avoiding yours when you nod slowly. "And…you want to have sex spontaneously? Do you want to schedule it? Do you want to–" "I'm good with whenever. You can have me anytime you want, even if you don't want to have sex for the next year. I'm all yours, whenever." He interrupts, his cheeks burning pink as he clears his throat. You narrow your eyes, "Oookay. You know that goes both ways, right?" "I don't think you understand the willpower it takes not to be all over you every single second of my waking hours." His eyes are now squeezed shut, and you can feel your own cheeks warm as you feel his fingers flex around yours. You let out a soft ha, before nodding. "O-Okay, sure." "So…we're okay? Can we start taking things a little slower?" He asks with a wince, and you nod. "Absolutely." He nods, "Cool, cool. Uhm…I'll wait in the living room for you, okay? I'll set up the movie." He pulls away with a gentle squeeze to your hands, a soft smile playing on his lips as he ducks out of the bedroom. You feel your stomach sink a bit, but out of relief. You feel…lighter.
You didn't mind the once-a-week sessions with Heeseung. He'd come home, the two of you would be particularly agitated – you because you felt pushed aside, Heeseung because of work, because he didn't have enough time for you, because he just wanted to feel some sort of peace. You'd try and start a conversation, only for him to push you back on the couch or the bed, or even the carpet in your living room and kiss you breathless. His tongue would slip into your mouth with practiced precision, his hand pinning your wrists above your head as he begged you to just let him take care of you.
You didn't mind because every touch from him was just right. His lips dragging against your jaw, his fingers shoved down your pants while he whispered sweet nothings. You don't know if Heeseung remembers any of the things he says during sex – how much he loves you, something he can't openly say when he's fully in his five senses. Despite feeling the way you did about your relationship with Heeseung, sex was never something you had to feel worried about – he would get just as drunk off you as he did his favorite bourbon. Sex with Heeseung was like a rollercoaster, even the very first time. He knew every button to push, every spot to caress, to kiss, to bite. He made you feel like you were swimming in a pool of lust and love and you couldn't help but cry during the middle of it all sometimes, only to feel his tongue carefully collecting your tears. "You're so pretty."
Shivering, you fan at yourself before sliding off your bed, making a beeline to your bathroom. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him softly swaying to yet another jazz song as he drapes one of your favorite blankets across the couch. You can't help but smile inwardly, shutting the door behind you as you look at yourself in the mirror. Sighing, you grab for your face wash, not able to stop thinking.
Heeseung does love you. He does, even if he's not good at saying it. He does, even if it means he bruises the stupid tattoo you got of his initials with how tight he holds your hips. He does, because he lets you claw at his tattoo of your initials on his shoulder. You still remember being drunk out of your mind when you stumbled into the studio to get them done.
And you remember that being the first sign that being with Heeseung was not temporary. You hadn't even had sex at that point in your relationship – choosing to cement your relationship with a permanent reminder. One that you knew was under his shirt even when his ring wasn't on his finger, one he knew was just under your panties even when you were mad at him for not spending time with you.
"Baby! Food's here!"  You hear Heeseung call as you reach for your moisturizer.
Baby. A silly pet name you'd missed dearly, a silly pet name he'd used three times just today. "Coming!" You call, quickly wiping the sink of water and opening the bathroom door, scurrying out. He's sprawled across the couch, the containers of takeout spread out on the coffee table in front of him. His hand is messing with the remote, typing The Devil's Advocate into your Amazon Prime account. 
"Hey." He murmurs, feeling you press a kiss to the crown of his head. He doesn't know why he's so nervous – he's literally seen you naked. You ruffle his hair, before rounding the couch and sitting gingerly on the floor. You didn't like to eat on the couch, Heeseung knew that. You slid in front of him, your shoulders pushing his knees apart as you rested your head on the left one. He says nothing, only leaning back as he presses play on the film.
The silence between you is comfortable. You're chewing carefully, soft gasps from your lips as if you hadn't watched this movie hundreds of times. He can't help but think if this was what he was missing out on while he was at work. You, dressed down in his clothing, holding your mouth open around a particularly overstuffed pork bun as Al Pacino dips his fingers into Holy Water.
"You're cute." He murmurs to himself, and you lean your head back slightly, a bit of hoisin sauce on the corner of your lip as you chew. "Hm?" "You're cute, babe." He shakes his head, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You blink at him, before twisting to look at him properly. Your brows furrow as you swallow, and you click your tongue. You give him a suspicious glance before turning back to the television, shrugging your shoulders as you lean back again.
He likes this. He could get used to it.
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Heeseung cleaned up after you finished eating. He even ran the water for your shower, opting to go in after you. You'd pouted, asking him to go in with you – but he insisted he still had things to finish up before he could even think about winding down.
However, when you arrive in the bedroom with your hair wrapped in a towel and a baggy shirt over your shoulders, he can't help but take a peek. He sees the lavender trim of your underwear from his stance in the closet as you bend slightly to fish out a pair of sweatpants, his fingers tightening around the hanger in his hand. It breaks, the crack making you suddenly look up.
"What was that?" Your eyes are wide, scanning him as you pull out a random pair of shorts. He sheepishly hides his hand behind his back, shaking his head quickly. "Nothing, honey. Oh, I saw that you were running out of your serum…thing. The one for your hair, it's in the drawer." He pressed his lips together as he nodded, and you squint at him before opening the top drawer. Sure enough, the Biosilk bottle sits pretty, wrapped in the bag you knew was from the beauty supply store. You take it out, but see Heeseung grimace in the mirror. You peer at him, before seeing the broken hanger in his hand. Rolling your eyes, 
"Maybe if you weren't so busy trying to get a peek at my underwear, you wouldn't have broken that." "Shut up." He scoffs, cheeks heating as he skirts out of the closet, throwing the hanger away in the trashcan by the door. You just shake your head, unwrapping the bottle as he appears next to you. "It's that one, right?" "Yeah, Hee. Thank you." You nod, placing it closer to the mirror. You look up at him through the mirror, noting the way he's gazing at you lovingly. "You're staring." "So?" He shrugs, and you scoff. "Get in the shower, Heeseung. I'm sleepy." "Don't fall asleep without me!" He presses his lips to your temple suddenly, and you don't get a chance to react before he's gone. You hear the door shut behind him, and you quickly grab your phone from its spot on the nightstand, abandoning the shorts you had in your hand on the dresser.
Msg To: Park Sunghoon [9:32pm] please please tell me you won't call hee in to work tmrw
You nibble on your lips, watching as Sunghoon reads the message. His chat bubble pops up, then goes back down. 
Msg From: Park Sunghoon [9:33pm] i'll run it by the guys here in a bit, and i'll let you know. cool?
You don't reply, only giving him a thumbs up reaction. Setting your phone down, you move around for your night routine. Moisturizer, curl cream…before the large bed behind you calls your name as a siren does to shipwrecked pirates.
Flopping face down, you sigh into the pillow. You weren't ready to start working on Monday – you weren't ready to leave the comfort of your home, to talk to people all day about their problems again. You weren't ready for your mother to find out through her connections that you're practicing again.
You weren't ready to stop making two portions of dinner for your husband who wouldn't get home on time, you weren't ready to not be kissed all over in the morning even though he thought you were asleep. You'd never sleep through something so tender.
"Babe, I said don't fall asleep!" You hear Heeseung whine, and you groan into your pillow before flipping onto your back with your eyes closed. "I'm not sleeping! I'm just…resting my eyes." "That's sleeping." He's closer now, and you feel his lips press on your forehead. "It's fine, we have all day tomorrow." "If they don't call you into work." You grumble, and he pinches your cheek, before you feel your husband's lips brush the shell of your ear. "You should never trust Sunghoon to relay a message." "Fuck off!" You whine, shoving him away as you open your eyes. His hair has been dried, his bottom half tucked into a pair of flannel pajama pants. He's holding an old tshirt in his hand as he rounds the bed, "You're not planning on sleeping on top of the duvet, are you?" "Some of us get hot at night." You scowl, but a yelp gets caught in your throat as you feel him yank you to the edge of the bed by your ankle. You narrow your eyes as you look up at him, seeing your husband smiling down at you with a tilt to his head.
"Why the attitude, princess? Something wrong?" 
He's talking down to you, something that makes your cheeks heat. You furrow your brows, scoffing as you prop yourself up on your elbows. His hand leaves your ankle, splaying on the skin of your thigh. "Why would anything be wrong?" He shrugs, his smile still digging into your very bones. "I figured I'd ask, since you begged Sunghoon not to call me this weekend." "Sunghoon is a rat, you know this. Remember when you pushed Jay's head into his birthday cake and Sunghoon immediately dogged you? Why would you believe him?" You try to rationalize your way out of answering his questions, but Heeseung nods as if he's understanding. "You're right, baby. I shouldn't believe him, someone who snitches everyone out because he believes there aren't enough honest people in this world." You scoff at his pointed look, knowing that Heeseung likes the little game you play. He likes cornering you, he likes giving you no way out. He likes the way your skin gets a little warmer under his touch.
"Okay, fine. I admit it!" You groan, falling back onto the bed. "God forbid I want to spend some time with my husband before I'm sent away." You drape your arm dramatically over your eyes, hearing Heeseung laugh above you. You hadn't had a night like this in so long, you can nearly feel the stupid butterflies from your college days floating back around you.
"You're going to work, you're not being shipped off to another country." He removes your arm from over your face, revealing your scrunched nose. He kisses the tip of it, seeing your cheeks bloom pink. "Yeah…" You sigh, before gently placing your hands on Heeseung's cheeks. He smiles down at you, "Yeah?" "I'll miss you." You admit, and his eyes soften as he captures your lips softly. His hands move to your hips, squeezing softly as he pulls back. "I'll miss you too, baby. It'll just take some getting used to." "Will you drive me on Monday?" You blurt, seeing his eyes widen as he nods quickly. "Absolutely. How early? Six? Seven?" You did not expect him to agree so fast. "Uhm, I have to be out of here by six-thirty to get there before the clinic opens." Your husband nods, and you watch the way his eyes move around as he does calculations in his head. "So…we'd be up by five?" He nods to himself, and you shrug. "You don't have to, I'm sorry I brought it up." "Kindly shut the hell up." He rolls his eyes, and you mimic his actions, pulling him back down to your lips. You don't say anything, only kissing him gently as his fingers toy with the hem of your underwear. You can tell he's holding back, not wanting to have this moment go like your usual nights together. He can't stop kissing you back though, and you can feel him slightly rutting against your leg.
"You're humping my leg." You whisper into his lips, and he shrugs, his fingers tugging down your underwear in one swift motion. "Don't care. Lie down." He pushes you back, quickly pushing your shirt up your chest until you get the hint and slip it off.
"What happened to taking it slow?" You tease as he kisses down your stomach, hissing as he nips just above your belly button. "This is slow, but if you want me to stop, I will." He looks up at you, eyes dark. You shake your head, earning another nip from his teeth.
"Words, princess." You flush deeper, nibbling on your lip as you speak. "Keep going." He raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. "Please." "You're such a brat." He rolls his eyes, before sinking to his knees on the carpet. He pulls you closer to the edge of the bed by your knees, one of your legs over his shoulder as he kisses down your thighs. You're squirming, earning a quick slap to your leg. "Stop." "S-Sorry." You mumble, feeling him nose at your pussy. He inhales deeply, a groan from his lips as he places a soft kiss on your clit, a sharp breath caving your stomach in. "Pretty, always so pretty for me." 
You don't get a chance to respond to his muttering, feeling his tongue drag purposefully through your folds. You sigh shakily, your fingers finding his hand that rested on your stomach. He laces your fingers together as he licks at you with an agonizingly slow place.
"F-faster." You whine, feeling him smile into your wet heat. "I said I'd take it slow, princess. You can wait, right? Be a good girl f'me." You suck in yet another sharp breath as his pouty lips wrap around your clit, his hand squeezing yours gently as you whimper. Your hips grind carefully against his tongue, taking all your willpower to not beg him to touch you more. "Missed you. Missed this." He murmurs, letting go of your hand to pull you impossibly closer, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he fucks his tongue into your aching center.
"M-Missed you." You whine, your hand finding home in his hair. "Pull it." He mutters into your pussy, and you tug harshly as he groans into you. The vibrations are torture, your whimpers filling the room. He takes his time, and you can feel your thighs threatening to close around his head.
"Want m-more. P-Please?" You gasp out, and you almost feel angry at the way your husband chuckles. "What happened to taking it slow? You're that needy? Can't cum like this?" You huff, yanking on his hair – earning a low moan. He obliges anyway, slipping his pants down as he stands. He towers over you, your eyes wide at his glistening lips as his hand snakes down between your legs. You shake your head, pulling it away as he laughs breathily. "Baby, I can't–" "I can take it. Please? I can, I promise." You beg, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He watches as you lick them clean, your tongue snaking around his wedding band. You're really and truly his for the taking, loving, fucking.
He shudders, leaning to kiss you softly. Your lips only taste of sin, your tongue sliding into his mouth with practiced ease. He groans quietly, his hard cock sliding against your soaked cunt as you whimper into his mouth. “Please, please—”
“I know baby, I know.” He murmurs, sinking into you slowly with a choked moan. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, feeling your shaky breathing against his neck. He gives an experimental roll of his hips, relishing in the burn of your nails dragging down his back with a groan. Pushing your hands off him, he pins them above your head, interlocking your fingers.
"I love you." His lips are pressed to yours before you can respond, hips snapping at a menacing pace. Your breath gets caught in your throat, pressing your bare chest to his as he trails his mouth down your jaw. "Can never get enough of you." His soft whispers receive nothing but your whines, your hand squeezing his as he mouthed at whatever skin he could reach. "Could never ask for a better woman." He whispers into your ear, his teeth nipping tirelessly in efforts to burn himself into you forever.
"Can never get you off my mind. Think about you all day, baby." He lets go of your hands, circling his fingers around your thighs and spreading them further. You clench around him, your hands covering your face as a whine slips from his throat, fucking into you harder.
"W-Wanna live in this pussy, fuck." He groans, feeling your gummy walls tighten around him, his hand snaking down to play with your clit. Your moan is sharp, thighs threatening to close around his hips but he forces them apart as your eyes gloss over. "Need you to cum f'me, pretty. N-Need you to cream all over this dick." You open your mouth to speak, only to have it covered by his lips as he leans down to kiss you. He sucks on your tongue messily, feeling your fingers rake through his hair as you pull him back, mouthing at his neck. "W-Want you to cum inside m-me." You mumble, feeling his hips stutter against the swell of your ass, but he quickly falls back into rhythm.
"Y-Yeah? Fuck, want me to fill you up? I'll give you everything, baby. Anything you want, shit–" He whines into your neck, spurred on by your soft whimpers of yeah, yeah – your nails dragging across his back once more, your fingers digging into his tattoo of your initials almost angrily. Your release rips through you with a loud whine, coating his thighs and soaking into the sheets, clenching like a vice around him as he straightens himself.
"Shit, honey–" His eyes are low as he tucks his lip between his teeth, pushing your knees to your chest as he pounds into you, pulling sobs from your throat as he fucks you through your orgasm. His head falls forward as he cums inside you, his fingers finding yours and squeezing like his life depends on it. 
"Fuck." He mutters, pressing his forehead to your chest, the room filling with sounds of your panting and his lips trailing wetly along your shoulders and neck. "When did you…have you ever done that before?" "I don't think so." You breathe out, and his skin feels sticky but he doesn't care. "What…" He straightens, bearing his weight on his elbows as he peers down at you. You're glowing softly, your eyes slightly lower than when you'd started, lips swollen from his teeth pulling at them. "What changed? How can I be better?" Your cheeks flush deeper, shaking your head gently. "I don't–" "C'mon. What was it? You've never had complaints before." He says pointedly, and you smile. "Nothing to complain about, you always do well." "But?" He probes, his eyes locked on yours, and you sigh, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead. "I don't know, Hee. I guess…I just like when you talk to me." Communication.
His eyes narrow as he thinks, thinking back to all the times you've had sex. He's sure he's spoken to you then, likely incoherent, pussydrunk babbles–
"When you said…" Your voice fades, closing your eyes as you shake your head. "Nevermind." "I could never ask for a better woman." 
It dawns on him, looking back down at you. Your eyes avoid his as you gently thumb at a red line down his shoulder, cause of your fingernails, but he tilts your face with his hand. His fingers squish the fat of your cheeks, a tear slipping from your eyes as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. "I could never ask for a better woman, my love." Your eyes flutter closed as he peppers kisses across your face, tears continuing to fall as he kisses your cheeks. "I love you, okay? I'm so fucking sorry for making you feel like you're not the most important thing to me in this world. I'd die for you, I'd kill for you, okay?" You nod silently, but your lip curls into a smile as he buries his face into your neck. "I'm not a thing, Hee." "Shut up." He whines, and you laugh. "I love you, too. I could never ask for a better man, ever." "God, don't. We won't leave this bed." He groans, and you nip at his earlobe, sucking it gently. "You promise?"
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Monday, 5:32am.
He did promise.
You and Heeseung did not leave your bedroom once on Sunday. Well, he did – when he grabbed the food delivery you ordered, and to get you water on multiple occasions. You changed your sheets twice only to ruin them again, the sex messier and wetter the longer you and Heeseung went at it. He took everything you gave him in any position he could fold you into – but nothing beat seeing you laid out on your back, his fingers bruised into your hips and love bites blooming all over your body. He liked admiring you from above, sure – but he loved nothing more than his face shoved between your legs, suffocated by your warm, wet heat.
Your whimpers were burned into his mind, so much so he could hardly leave you alone when night approached. You practically had to beg him to get in the shower, his only request being that you join him. 
By join him, he meant pressing you against the tiles and sinking his teeth into your neck and shoulders as he slid himself through your thighs over and over again. He bit down your back mercilessly, sinking to his knees behind you and lapping his tongue against your cum-coated cunt like a man starved.
Needless to say, the water ran cold and you had shampoo in your hair for an hour.
He didn't care, though. He kissed you deeply, wanting to feel every inch of you all over him before bidding you goodnight. He wanted to wake up early and make you breakfast, he wanted to pick out your pretty blouse and your heels. He wanted to be involved in your life.
"Rise and shine, baby." He whispered into your hair, holding a plate in his left hand as he pinched the fat of your cheek in the other. You groan, pushing his hand away as you roll onto your back. The duvet slips down, revealing your bitten skin. He caresses it gently, his eyes glued to your face as he goes lower. Your hand catches his wrist before he can cup your breast, peeling your eyes open reluctantly.
"I can't let you near me, you'll fuck me into the mattress." You mutter, making him smile. "Maybe don't beg me to cum inside you, and I'll leave you alone." He holds up the plate in his hand, his chest swelling at your blushing cheeks. "I made breakfast, can you get up now? I want to pick your clothes!" Your eyes widen slightly as you sit up, letting the duvet pool around your belly button as you wipe at your inner corners. "Really? You want to?" "I love seeing you dressed up for work, babe. Can I? I'll make it pretty, I promise." He draws an x over his chest, and he notices how you can't bite back a smile as you take the plate from him. He turns away as you reach for the bedside lamp, clicking it on as he practically skips into your shared closet.
"You're really chipper…" You trail off, shoveling a peach slice into your mouth. He shrugs, holding up two shirts before putting them back. "It's your first day, and I read something a few years ago about marital ambiance. If I'm in a crappy mood, it'll rub off on you. We can't have that, can we?" He smiles widely as he pulls out a black dress you hadn't worn in ages – the sleeves were long and slightly flared, and the flowy skirt ended just above your knee. The neck was high, so you wouldn't be exposing any of your weekend shenanigans. "This one? Haven't seen this in, what, two years?" "We can try that one, yeah." You speak around a mouthful of oatmeal, and he nods as he turns to your shoes. "Are you walking a lot? Or can we go for the Hot Chicks?" He holds up the black leather heels, and you just smile and shake your head. "I'll take my slippers anyway, so we can go with the Hot Chicks." 
"I checked the temperature outside, it'll be a little chilly until lunch time. Do you want pantyhose? Stockings?" He drapes the dress over his arm as he worms out of the closet, placing your shoes on the dresser as he opens a drawer. You like the sight of your husband like this. Excited for you, eager to see you take a step forward after being (willingly) stagnant for so long. You were afraid that maybe he'd discourage it – you'd overheard him talking to Sunghoon once about how your last job nearly made you lose your mind, and how worried he'd been about you.
He wasn't wrong, either – the fact that your impact felt so minuscule just made you feel like you were at home away from home. It felt like your marriage at the time, it felt like you were sixteen again talking to your mother about your dreams and being shut down. It felt bad, ugly.
You finish your breakfast and get dressed as your husband gets ready, his suit jacket the exact same shade of black as your dress, his button-up that cherry red that makes you ache with want. His slacks are pressed, his hair carefully styled as he appears behind you moments later, holding a flat iron to your head.
"No curls today, babe?" He leans against the doorway, and you smile shyly. "No, I think I want something sleek. The curls are not looking too good this morning." "Yeah?" He's not listening, running his eyes down your backside. "Hee. Stop." "I'm just looking, baby." He smiles, and you ignore the way his eyes raking across you make you feel warm. "Well, stop looking. I can't be late, not today." "So, tomorrow?" He asks, and you scoff as you pull the iron down the last strand of hair, running over the ends twice before tossing it over your shoulder. You roll your eyes, unplugging the tool as your husband's hands run over your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Swatting his hands away, you leave the iron to cool as you turn around. 
"Heeseung, I'm serious." You're nose to nose with your husband, who only smiles down at you. "One kiss." "In the car, after my lipstick, when you drop me off." You propose, and he shakes his head. "Right here, right now, before your lipstick and you let me go down on you." "You're insane!" You laugh, pushing him out of the way – but not before he lands a soft smack to the swell of your ass. "Stop! Let me get ready!" "Fine, fine! I'll make coffee." He scoffs, turning on his heel and going down the hallway. 
You shake your head to yourself, wandering back into your bedroom and slipping your jewelry on. Small gold hoops, the same necklace you wore every single day. Your wedding rings, one silver ring with the letter H on your middle left, and one on your right pinky with Heeseung's and your birthstones. A watch that was a gift from your father on your graduation day, the leather band slightly worn and molded to your wrist.
You hear a soft whistle from the doorway, and look up to see your husband biting his lip. "Are you sure you can't be a little late?" "Dude." You roll your eyes, watching Heeseung set down your silver tumbler on the dresser. He slides behind you as you check your earrings carefully, pressing his hips into your ass. “Did you call me dude yesterday? Could’ve sworn it was another word that started with—”
“Heeseung, you’re on thin ice.” You glare at him through the mirror, feeling him grind against you. “It’s almost like I can still hear you.” He hums against your shoulder, pressing a quick kiss before moving your hair out of the way, trailing gently up your neck and nipping at your ear.
“Please, daddy. Want you so bad.” He mocks you, watching your expression change in the mirror. You huff, your cheeks burning as you look away. “Don’t be shy, it was cute. You’re cute, baby.”
“Stop.” You murmur, before feeling his hand gently tilt your face towards his. He kisses you deeply, moving his hand lower slowly. Squeezing your neck softly, you whimper into his mouth before he pulls away, biting your lower lip and watching it spring back. “We’ll run this back later, yeah?”
You nod, earning a smile and a chaste kiss. “C’mon. It’s almost six-fifteen.”
He pushes off of you, his hand lingering on your hip before he leaves the bedroom. You sigh shakily, your fingers fumbling for your lipstick as you hear him jingle his car keys. You shove it into your dress pocket, grabbing your shoes and coffee cup off the dresser and exiting the bedroom.
You shove your shoes on as you reach the foyer, watching Heeseung pull your coat out of the hall closet. “I prepped your bag before I made breakfast, can you check it?”
Everything is there. You let him slip your coat on, pressing a kiss to your cheek and carefully fixing your hair. “What time are you off?”
“I’ll call you?” You say, and he nods. “Ten minutes before?”
“You got it.”
Neither of you say much else as you take a deep breath, opening your front door and stepping out together. You hold Heeseung’s sleeve as he locks the door, your other hand gripping the tumbler he prepared for you.
He turns, interlocking your fingers with his and bringing your knuckles to his lips. “You ready?”
You smile nervously, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
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Heeseung dropped you off a minute to seven, and even walked you to the doors of your clinic. He waited patiently as you applied your lipstick, puckering his lips cutely for his kiss goodbye. You pressed another to his cheek for good luck.
The day went smoothly. Your first two patients were two young men, both in their early twenties. One with dyed blond hair, the other with a dark brown perm. Both had tired eyes and chapped lips, bitten fingernails. The blond had a tattoo of a girl’s name on his forearm, the brunet two rings through his eyebrow.
Heeseung’s habit of jotting down small details has rubbed off on you.
Your last patient was set to arrive any minute, and you found yourself feeling uneasy. You kept changing the music you played, settling on Paradise by Sade. You smoothed the felt on the patient couch several times, even drawing a pattern in the fabric before hearing the soft knock on the door.
“Come in!”
A woman opens the door a crack, dark brown eyes peering in. Thickly lashed and lined with kohl, she presses her lips into a thin line before opening the door wider. You stand, smoothing your dress before offering your hand.
“I’m Dr. Lee. You must be—”
“I’m Jeon Chaeyoung. It’s on my file.” She mutters, bypassing your extended hand. She sits on the edge of the couch, and you brush it off. A lot of patients were standoffish at first — getting comfortable with someone you were going to share your problems with was always something difficult, you understood that.
“Yes, I know. I’m glad to meet you, I—”
“Can we just get into it? I don’t want all the formalities.” She cuts you off, and you try not to look discouraged as you settle into your chair. “Of course. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
She sighs, picking at her maroon polish. Something about her is off, something is oddly familiar, but you don’t know what. You notice her widow’s peak has been shaved off, and her teeth are a little too well shaped not to be veneers. 
“Well, I’m twenty-eight. I dropped out of university when I was nineteen, and I left my hometown at the same time. Haven’t spoken to anyone since, and I moved to this town last year with my husband.”
You nod slowly, tapping your pen against your notepad. You glance at her file, seeing that she had a few name changes in the last three years. Twice — Jeon Chaeyoung, before that she was Cha Chaeyoung.
Before that, Cha Soyoung.
You choke on your saliva, coughing harshly into your fist. She looks startled, her hands out as you reach for the pitcher of water on the coffee table. You pour shakily, coughing off the side before picking the glass up and taking a sip.
“S-Sorry, sorry. Had a little something. You moved here last year?”
Her eyes are suspicious as you pour another glass for her, sliding it across the table. She takes it tentatively, taking a small sip before holding it in her hands.
“Yeah. I…ran away, I guess. I felt so much pressure from everyone around me. My mother wanted me to be a bigshot lawyer, my father wanted me to take over his company on top of that. My best friend…” She trails off, and you hope she can’t sense how nervous you are. 
“He…ugh. He was so patient and understanding, and he tried so hard to understand me. He was there for me through every bad moment of my life — my mother pressing me to be successful, my father wanting me to take over his company. I couldn’t handle it.”
“So you left. You left everything behind and you started anew.” You say slowly, and she nods, her eyes teary. “I even changed my name. I knew he would look for me, I just disappeared without telling anyone. I think he gave up, but I still…”
She wipes at her nose, and you quickly offer tissues from the table. She takes a few, dabbing at her eyes before the kohl can run. She has the same look in her eyes as your first two patients — tired, scared. Even a bit…remorseful.
“I got surgeries to change the way I look, you know. I have a nose job, can you tell?” She turns to the side, and you can. You can tell, the way her nose no longer has the soft button look, but the straight bridge with pointed tip. But she doesn’t know you know that.
“Not that you’d know, sorry.” She laughs nervously, balling the tissues in her hands. You smile warmly at her. “I got my teeth done. And I even got half a syringe of filler in my lips.”
She puckers them, the clear gloss still shiny against the pink skin. You nod, “They look good, though. How do you feel about the changes? Do you feel more confident?”
She shakes her head, “No. I did it…to hide, I guess. I didn’t want my best friend to find me, I didn’t want anyone to find me. I went into hiding as long as I could, hoping my parents would just forget about me.”
“Mmh. I saw your file, and you said you’ve…changed your name. Why, exactly? Did you want to leave behind the person that was…Soyoung?” You tap the file, trying not to show the way her name makes your tongue taste sour, and she sighs. “They opened a Missing Persons case for me. It made everything a lot harder, you know? I just wanted to disappear and start a new life doing something menial. I know it sounds stupid—”
“Stupid?” You scoff, crossing your legs. “Nothing you feel is stupid, Chaeyoung. Everything and anything you’ve ever felt is valid. The need to run when things get too stressful, wanting to hide away from societal pressures. Everything, it’s valid.”
She lets out a shaky sob, covering her mouth as she breathes in. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry! You’re just a human being. No one can get upset at you for not knowing how to navigate everything, this is your first time on Earth.” You shrug, and she peers up at you through teary eyes. “Can you tell me about yourself? M-Maybe it’ll be easier to get comfortable.”
“Sure!” You smile, eager to give her an update on Heeseung, despite her not knowing. “I’ve been married for seven years. I met my husband when we were nineteen, and we started dating a little after that. I was a stay-at-home wife for the last few years, because my job…”
She stares at you intently, and you rub your neck. “I didn’t feel fulfilled. My mother, quite like yours, had a lot of pressure on me. I was her only daughter, and she wanted so much. She wanted me to marry for money, and she wanted me to pursue a law degree.”
You smile sadly, and she nods. “Did you marry for money?”
“Not at all. I made more than my husband did in my first year as a therapist.” You laugh, remembering how you and Heeseung cheered as the two of you finally had enough saved for a new mattress. It was a silly stepping stone but the two of you were ecstatic.
“What does your mom think of you now? Do you keep in contact with her?” She tilts her head at you, and you shrug. “I don’t care what she thinks, and she doesn’t speak to me. She works distantly with my husband, so he sees her more often than I do. She’s an attorney for the city we live in.”
Chaeyoung nods, slowly. She pulls her phone out, typing quickly and scrolling before turning her screen towards you. It’s a picture of her and Heeseung smiling as kids. They’re dressed as Team Rocket from Pokémon, posing with V-signs next to their winked eyes.
“This is him. He’s my best friend. I haven’t spoken to him since I left.” She sniffles, and you can’t hide the way your smile falters. You feel your stomach sink a bit, realizing that she would always know Heeseung far more than you ever would. She grew up with him, she matched Halloween costumes with him. She held his hand trick-or-treating, she dyed his hair for the first time in grade nine. 
She kissed him when they were seventeen, for the first time ever.
“Are you okay?” She asks, pulling her phone away. You nod quickly, “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just had some memories. I was super into Pokémon as a kid, but I moved around a lot and could never make friends over it.”
It’s not a lie. You collected the cards, played the video games, and watched the Indigo League.
“Do you and your husband have kids? My husband wants to have kids soon.” She mentions, and you shake your head. “No, not yet. We talked about it yesterday, actually.”
You had, in depth. While you were eating the shitty takeout from the diner down the road, he’d asked you. You admitted that you were open to having kids, but wanted to fix your marriage first. He agreed, but mentioned that getting off your birth control would take time to get used to. You nodded in response, saying you’d make an appointment with your doctor and the two of you could go from there.
“But us, first. Okay?” He’d said, holding his pinky out to you. You’d smiled and linked your fingers, “Us first.”
“This is my husband. His name is Jungkook.” She pulls up a photo of a particularly tattooed man, pressing his lips to her temple. He has a lip ring, and several rings through his ears. “He’s cute! Do you feel loved? Fulfilled?”
“Funnily enough, I do. I don’t feel any of the stress or pressure to be…perfect. He…gets me. He engages me, he makes me laugh. We dance together a lot, he sings me to sleep.” She nods, smiling at the photo. “Can I see your husband? Or is that too far?”
You try not to show your hesitation, but the words tumble out before you can stop them.
"Maybe next time, yeah?" She nods quickly, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable–" "Not at all! My husband is just particular, you know. His job stops him from really being a prolific person." You smile, shaking your head as you tap your notepad. It's true, you and Heeseung hardly posted things about yourselves or your relationship on social media. Your friends were all very private due to the nature of their jobs, and it'd do you well to follow that.
The rest of the session goes on without many more slip-ups. She focuses on telling you about her relationship with her husband, how he proposed. Their intimate elopement in his hometown, with just his friends and their girlfriends. You can't count how many times you heard her mention a couple named Jimin and Jeongyeon.
You can't focus on anything but the color of her eyes. How deep they are, how much of her story they hold. You're certain Heeseung would be able to figure her out in a split second, just by looking into them.
"You're very good at this, you know." She says as she tugs her jacket on, and you don't remember her ever taking it off. The hour she booked is almost up, and she looks a lot lighter than when she came in. You can feel the weight of her confessions, the weight of knowing she was alive and well after years of searching for her on your own shoulders.
You don't know if, or when, you should, or could – tell your husband.
"Good at what?" You tilt your head, and she gives you a quizzical look. "At creating a nice environment to share my struggles. I know I mostly talked about my husband, but…it felt nice. To tell someone about him and not have them tell me they already know that about him." You smile inwardly, knowing exactly what she means. "Yeah. My husband…his best friends are also mine. Can't really talk about all his weird little habits without them knowing exactly what I'm talking about." "Oh? You don't have friends of your own?" She tilts her head, and you laugh. "I mean, yeah. But I tend to spend most of my time with my husband. It's like…a really good amusement park. I wanna go on all the rides with him, you know?" She smiles, but you see a slight flash of judgment in her eyes. Feeling your cheeks burn, you clear your throat, closing her file and putting it on the table. "Should I expect to see you here next week, Chaeyoung?" "I'd like that, Dr. Lee. My husband said he'd wait for me, so I'm going to go ahead and relieve him." She nods, before standing. You do as well, walking her to the entrance. She turns on the steps, "Thank you for listening to me." "Any time, Chaeyoung." You bid her a goodbye, watching as she walks out of the clinic with her hands in her pockets to a black station wagon. Leaning on your doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest, you see her husband get out, seeing the way he towers over her. He smiles down at her, tucking her hair behind her ear before pressing a kiss to her forehead. You can make out his lips asking How was it? 
And her own saying I'm coming back next week. I really like this one, honey.
You feel your chest ache as he opens her door, pressing another kiss to her cheek as she pulls her seatbelt on. He shuts the door, and circles back to the driver's side. He looks up, catching your eye. He tilts his head, before smiling and opening his door. He gives you a quick wave, and you put your fingers up as he reverses out of his parking spot.
It looked so easy for them.
She looked so easy to love, he looked so eager to love her. Did people look at you and Heeseung that way, too? Did they think that about you? Sighing, you turn into your office, stretching your arms over your head. You moved around, tidying up as the music you played switched to something that reminded you more of your husband – specifically, No Song Without You by HONNE.
He'd played this song almost every day when the two of you began dating. You remember this song playing in the restaurant you had your third date at. You remember this song playing in the car when he picked you up for your twentieth birthday. You remember this song playing when he asked you to be his girlfriend, and ending just moments before he kissed you for the first time. You remember this song playing when he took you out to the flower field he proposed in. You remember his teary eyes as he knelt down before you, one of the biggest displays of emotion you'd ever seen in him. Most of all, you remember him saying there is no him without you.
You don't realize you've been standing in the same spot for the last two minutes until you hear your phone ring on the desk. You rush to it, picking up the call before even looking at the caller ID.
"This is Dr. Lee." You say, fumbling with Chaeyoung's file and the cabinet. You open it before hearing your husband snort on the other end. "Hello, Dr. Lee. This is Lieutenant Lee, I'm calling on behalf of your taxi service." "Yah! You're not my taxi." You scoff, shoving the file into the J section. He laughs, "I'm outside, baby. You didn't call, so I got worried. I picked up something light, are you almost done?" "Shit, I'm sorry. D'you want to come inside? I still have things to wrap up." You screw your eyes shut, your fingers rubbing at your temples. "Yeah, sure. I'll be right there."
It doesn't take long for your husband to appear at your door, holding his badge in his hand as you type on your computer. You give him a quizzical look, before turning back to the screen. "Did the janitor give you a hard time?"
"You could say that." He shakes head, setting his keys and phone down on your coffee table. He's holding the bag of food in his hand, and you gesture to the room. "It's nice, isn't it?" He looks around, putting the bag on your desk before opening it. "It's a lot bigger than your old office. I like the green…is that Take Me by Miso?" His ears perk at the new song playing through the speakers, and you sigh, nodding your head as you slump in your chair. He nods along to the song before rounding the desk, and pressing a kiss to your hairline. "You don't look very happy, honey. Did something happen?" His hands find your shoulders as he stands behind you, and you move your mouse all over the screen. "Nothing, I'm just rebooking a patient. She…something about her. I don't know." You know your conscience won't let you hide this from Heeseung very long. Granted, you're protected by the law if you do tell him, and it's the right thing to do.
Something in your heart doesn't feel right.
"Jeon Chaeyoung." He reads, and you nod. "Jeon Chaeyoung." "What's her deal?" He asks, making you pout up at him. "If I tell you, I'm violating our patient-provider contract." He gives you a confused look, before leaning down, brushing a kiss to your cheek. "I'm sensing a but, here." You sigh, exiting the schedule and turning the monitor off. "Let me make a scenario for you, yeah?" You stand, kicking your heels off as you walk onto the carpet under the coffee table. He nods slowly, before moving to the patient couch, taking a seat as you pace.
"Let's say, you're looking at someone in a line-up, yes?" You turn to him, and he nods. "Okay. What am I looking for?" "Something familiar. You know the perpetrator and you've known them for ages. I mean, damn near your entire life." 
Heeseung's eyes scan your face, before humming. He leans back, resting his elbows against the back of the couch. "We have a saying about eyes, I guess. That they never lie, you know. Eyes are the windows to the soul and what not." 
"So if I show you a picture of me and a bunch of other people, and cover everything but our eyes, you'd know which one I am?" You feel like you're starting to sound a bit like a maniac, but your husband nods. "Of course I would. I love your eyes. I look at them all the time."
You nod quickly, before breathing out shakily. "When you were nine, what did you dress up as for Halloween?" "What?" He scoffs out a laugh, "What does that have anything to do with what we were just talking about?"
You kneel in front of him, and he sits up quickly, taking in your serious expression. "Babe, what is going on?" "Did you match with Soyoung?" You murmur, picking at his slacks. "Were you Jesse from Team Rocket?"
Heeseung's brow furrows as he takes your hands, the clink of your rings grabbing your attention. "Y/N?" "It's her. She changed her name and she changed her face but it's her, Hee. I know it is, I can tell by her eyes and she showed me the two of you dressed up for Halloween as kids. That picture your mom has framed in her office." You squeeze your eyes shut, sinking back from him. His fingers squeeze yours gently before he scoffs. "Y/N…Honey, I really, really need you to think about what you're telling me right now." "I am, Heeseung! This is just as important to me, you know that! Countless sleepless nights, thousands of posters put up every single weekend just for her to waltz into my office today and tell me about her life!" You rip your hands from his, standing and walking to the file cabinet. You fish her file out, opening it and thrusting it into his hands.
He takes it reluctantly, his eyes scanning the file with a frown on his lips. 
Emergency Contact: Jeon Jungkook –  Cell: 010-1997-090 Work: 010-2013-0613 Relationship to Patient: Spouse
"She's married." He mumbles, flipping to the next page to her insurance information. He sees her name changes, before and after her marriage. His tongue pokes his cheek gently as you sit next to him, your ankles crossed as you sigh.
"This is rather anticlimactic." You mumble, leaning your head against his shoulder. He hums in response, thumbing the print of her electronic signature. "She never used to write her C's like this." He flicks the file, before closing it. "What happens now?" Your voice is no higher than a whisper, and you feel him sigh before leaning his head on yours. "Nothing. Legally, she doesn't have to report her reappearance. She's an adult." You look up at your husband, who has a surprisingly underwhelmed look on his face. He's nibbling on his lip as he gently tosses the file onto the coffee table. You rest your chin on his shoulder, scanning his face before he looks down at you.
"You seem tired." You say softly, and he closes his eyes. "I am. I'm so tired, honey." "You don't feel any sort of way about this? I can refer her to another clinic. I can–" "I just want to go home, Y/N." He shakes his head, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You allow it, moving to sit in his lap and feeling his hands drop to your waist. "I don't have…I can't…" You look down at him, seeing the way he angrily blinks back tears as he tries to find the words he needs. Your hands gently cup his cheeks as he sighs frustratedly, burying his face in your chest. You can feel your stomach flip as he tries to breathe deeply, his shoulders tight as you wrap your arms around them. He sniffles, resting his forehead on your clavicle, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Is it wrong to be angry at her?" He mumbles shakily, and you quickly shake your head. "No. She left, and she told me it was willingly. She came back, just a thirty-minute drive from home and she didn't tell you. You're allowed to be upset." "Then why do I feel shitty about it?" His voice trembles as he looks up at you, teary eyes full of resentment and bitterness, but behind it all is a 19-year-old boy who lost his best friend from night to the morning. You coo softly, your thumb moving to swipe under his eye as he pouts.
"Because you wanted things to be different. Finding out she's okay through me…probably wasn't the way you imagined it'd happen. Maybe you had an idea of her showing up to the precinct, or to your parents' house looking for you. Maybe you saw that she's married to someone else and it hurts you, maybe you have some underlying feelings." You shrug, not noticing the way your husband's eyes narrow at your words.
"Y/N, are you hearing yourself right now?" He scoffs, gently pushing you away from him. His hands rest on your thighs, nibbling on the corner of his lip as you give him a confused look. "What?" "Did you just seriously try and equate my feelings about this entire situation to me having some sort of weird fantasy about being with her?"
You blink twice, only for Heeseung to huff out a humorless laugh before gently removing you off his lap. He stands, grabbing his keys and wallet off the table before tapping the file. "Let's go home." "Hee–" "Let's go." He sighs, fingers grabbing the bag of dinner that you're sure had gone cold by now. He waits by the door as you gather your things, holding your coat in his hand as you slide your heels back on. "Heeseung–" "Turn around. It's cold outside." His voice isn't harsh or mean, but you can tell he doesn't want to speak unless it's absolutely necessary. You reluctantly let him slide your coat on for you, feeling his lips pressed to your temple quickly. He opens the office door, carefully pushing you out first and turning the lights off behind him.
"Can I drive?" You hold your hand out for the keys, and he sighs before dropping them in your hand. You walk quickly towards the exit, not bothering to bid the janitor a good night as you nearly threw the door open. You could feel your stomach turn as you reached the car, Heeseung still trailing behind you when his voice cut through the air.
"Walking that quickly won't get you away from this conversation, babe." You tongue your cheek, waiting for your husband to appear next to you in front of the SUV you shared. His hand squeezed your hip gently, before pulling you close. "What are you running from, hm?" The conversation where you tell me that our marriage is over and you want out because your best friend is back in the picture, you think. You shrug, shaking your head as he pulls open the driver's side door. He sighs as you skirt around him, pulling yourself into the seat without his help. He doesn't let you close the door, wedging himself in to buckle in your seatbelt for you.
"You say some really fucked up shit sometimes, you know." He murmurs, and you feel your cheeks hot as you reach around him to stick the keys in the ignition. His hand on your cheek stops you, forcing you to look at him. "I thought we said we'd work on this. On us." "I don't want to do this here." You reply shortly, not recognizing your own tone of voice as your husband's eyes widen before he tongues his cheek. "Fine." The drive is silent, the radio turned off by your fingers the moment you managed to get the car started. Heeseung sits in the passenger side, staring out the window with a tick in his jaw you'd only ever really seen a few times, but you remember most during your first fight. It'd been two days before your first anniversary, and it'd been over the dumbest thing ever – his phone dying and you freaking out when he showed up late to your early celebration. He'd apologized profusely but you didn't want to talk about it then, just like you don't want to talk now.
Heeseung is out of the car before you even manage to park fully, careful not to slam the door as he rounds the car, opening your door and taking your bag. You reluctantly let him help you down, and he takes the keys to open the door without a word. Your home is still warm and inviting, but something about the cold demeanors floating around the two of you makes it feel like you're not even there.
"Are you hungry?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head. "No." "You had lunch at noon, why are you lying?" He scoffed, pulling his jacket off as you tongued your cheek, "I'm not. You're just assuming things." "What is the problem, Y/N? Suddenly Soyoung…Chaeyoung reappears and you want to act like this? Did we not just have several lengthy conversations about fixing our relationship?" He grabs your elbow gently as you move to walk away, and you can't help but look at him with a frown on your face. "That was then, and this is now." "Why are you being like this? Babe." Heeseung pulls you toward him, and you huff in frustration as you try to weasel from his gasp. "You're acting like I'm some insecure housewife who needs you to coddle her. I'm not insecure, and even if I was, there's nothing you can do about it. Who cares? Why do you even care?" Heeseung gapes at you, before his hands circle your wrists so you can't move away from him. "Hello? Because I love you? Do I need another reason to want to understand why the woman I've been with for almost a decade is suddenly acting like she hates me?" 
"Me? Hate you? Be fucking serious." You scoff, and Heeseung's eyes narrow. "Then tell me what the hell is going on in your mind, because I'm not a mind reader. I cannot fix a problem if you don't tell me what it is." "Oh, but if I were Soyoung–" You start, but stop the moment his eyes meet yours. They're full of hurt and a hint of anger, a singular tear spilling from them before he drops your wrists with a click of his tongue. "Don't."
His voice is soft, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as he turns away from you, before shrugging his suit jacket off. He sighs shakily, and you feel your throat burn as you step out of your heels, placing them quietly on the shoe rack by the door. You purse your lips, taking a deep breath before turning on your heel, moving towards your bedroom before the tears spill from your eyes.
You didn't know what to do to stop the feeling of despair from clawing at you. And you felt stupid, thinking that you needed to even allow that feeling into your chest. You and Heeseung had spoken in depth on Sunday about your relationship – when you weren't pinned under him or vice versa. You talked about having kids, you talked about your parents, you talked about each other. He admitted to you that Dr. Bahng had told him to take some time off for the two of you before the year ended, and that he'd talk to his Captain about submitting the paperwork for a vacation sometime this week.
He admitted that he wholly believes marrying you was one of the best decisions he's ever made, and profusely apologized for his inability to cherish you the way you deserved. He held you closely as his promises to do better rained over you, and you promised the same.
He admitted to feeling his heart racing in his chest the day he met you, but was too consumed with guilt about Chaeyoung to ever bring it up, and his crush on you started developing soon after. He admitted that you made him overthink every step he took, every word he said – so much so that he figured it was just better to push you away than tell you about his feelings. The two of you recounted how Sunghoon made the two of you meet him at the campus cafe with the premise that he needed help on an assignment – only to ditch you with a frown, and figure your shit out falling from his lips as he left with Jake.
You brought up how he'd gaped at Sunghoon, and the way you awkwardly picked at your nails before confessing that you had a little crush on him. The way you rambled about knowing that his circumstances were really shitty, that you completely understood if he didn't feel the same, and that you were sorry Sunghoon put the two of you in this situation. Heeseung had only smiled as he nodded along to your words, before abruptly interrupting you to ask if you were free that following Friday. You had been, and he picked you up at seven for a date – an arcade, where the two of you jokingly did a Love Test-O-Meter and got the highest level. The two of you had scrunched your noses, but you both had deep blushes across your cheeks as the other patrons woo'd you. After, you went back to his dorm and ordered takeout, before promptly getting intoxicated on a bottle of gin stolen from Jay and watched horror films for hours before you passed out on his bed holding hands.
The rest? History.
You're struggling to pull your dress zipper down when Heeseung enters the room, his fingers gently tugging the zipper down your back without a word. You hear the gentle jazz music playing in your living room as he shuffles towards the closet, unbuttoning his shirt before hanging it back up. His hand reaches for one of the towels on the shelves, before taking another out and placing it on the bed.
A silent invitation to join him in the shower, if you so felt like it.
You hesitated, watching the way he gathered his pajamas and tucks them under his arm, the urge to follow after him far too strong as you stepped out of your dress, letting it pool on the floor. You kicked it away with a huff, before stripping entirely and grabbing the towel and your robe off the back of your bedroom door. You linger at the bathroom door, hearing the water start to pour and the sound of the shower curtain being pulled open. You walk in silently, setting your things down on the counter as Heeseung undid his belt, hanging it up on the hook by the door. You make a mental note to take it out when you leave, he'll forget it and not wear it for weeks until he sees it again. He tilts his head towards the shower as he peels off his undershirt, signaling for you to get in while he gets undressed.
The water is hot against your skin, and you close your eyes with an inward sigh. He steps in moments after, before tilting your head back just slightly so the water can cascade through your hair. Your hands instinctively move to touch him, but you retract back to your sides. He gently takes them, wrapping them around his waist like you usually do.
He doesn't say anything as he washes your hair gently, your eyes closed so as to not take in the image of your husband's slightly swollen eyes. His fingers card through your hair smoothly, before you feel his lips on your forehead. 
"I love you. Don't say it back. Don't say anything." You don't, but you're sure he sees the tear that slips from your eye as you nod silently. It comes so easily to him now. So, so easily to let you know how he feels about you. It makes you weak in the knees.
The rest of your shower is like that, his lips brushing chaste kisses all over your face as he repeats himself over and over, I love you, I love you, I love you. Your tears are hot as they continue to spill, and you finally slip out of the shower when he asks you to take the extra pillows off the bed – his final kiss to your lips after carefully washing your face for you.
You do as he asks, taking your decorative pillows and piling them in the closet like you usually do. You silently get dressed for bed, not bothering with your skincare – you'll just cry it off. Your hair is still damp when you lie down in one of your husband's old shirts and a pair of Spiderman briefs you stole from him years ago. He quietly turns all the lights off but leaves the music playing in the living room, before walking into the bedroom as he pulls his shirt over his head.
Your vision is blurry as you look up at him, his face illuminated by the evening moonlight. He sighs as he sits on your side of the bed, his hand sliding under the duvet to rest on your thigh. "Come dance with me." You blink a few times, staring at him before closing your eyes, shoving the duvet to the side and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. He stands, taking your hand in his and making you follow him to the living room.
You hear the opening notes of Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers – yet another song from your wedding – as Heeseung pulls you into him, planting a soft kiss to your hairline as his hands find home on your lower back. You exhale into his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken as you slide your hands under his shirt, resting them high on his back. 
"I love you, I'm sorry." You mumble as he sways the two of you gently, and he hums in response.
"I need you to know that I've never had feelings for Chaeyoung." He says clearly, and you close your eyes. "I've never had feelings for her, in any way that wasn't platonic. There are plenty of reasons she and I never got together after she kissed me when we were teenagers. Not that they matter, because all that matters is that I didn't feel the same, I never have and I never will." You don't respond, feeling your eyes sting with tears.
"It's only ever been you for me. I've never once thought back to when we started dating and thought that I'd would’ve been better off with anyone else. I've never wanted anyone that isn't you, and I think that is equally as beautiful as it is terrifying. In lieu of you, who? I'd have no first love without you, you’re the only love I want." "I'm sorry." You whisper as your tears soak into his shirt, and he pinches your hip lightly. 
"I'd genuinely be nothing without you. You are the most patient, loving person I've ever met. No one makes me want to be a better man like you do. I feel sick every time I have to get out of bed and go to work, but I remind myself that you only deserve the best. This house, our things, what I hope I can provide for our future kids…it can only be the best. So, I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry for giving so much importance to the future, which isn't a bad thing in itself. But, I've ignored my present. You're a gift from life, I've ignored you and it pains me to know I've caused you so much distress. So much so that you resort to feeling like this, like I'd ever leave the love of my life, the love for my life, for someone else."
His hands find your face, cooing at the pout on your lips as he gently wipes your tears. "I meant everything I said this weekend, too. I could never ask for a better woman, not when I have you." You only let out a sob in response, your husband cuddling you into his chest as he turns the music off when the song changes. He rubs your back as he moves the two of you back to the bedroom. He only separates from you to slide under the covers, but pulls you flush to his chest and envelopes you tightly in his arms.
"I love you so, so endlessly. Please don't ever doubt that again." He sighs shakily, pressing his lips to your temple as you bury your face in his neck. "I love you, Hee."
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Friday, 3:40pm.
It'd been three weeks since you told Heeseung about Chaeyoung's return, and she'd become a regular patient at your clinic. She told you more about her husband, her friends, and how she missed Heeseung. She asked you about your life, and you did everything to avoid mentioning names, even going as far as avoiding certain questions. You kept Heeseung updated with everything, and the more you told him…
…The more disinterested he became. It was odd to you, but you said nothing as he changed the subject, as he rolled his eyes, as he kissed you in the middle of your sentences. 
Heeseung also made it a point to drop you off and pick you up from work every day, insisting he enjoyed it. He made your breakfast and picked your clothes, and it was like every morning was a challenge to see if he could convince you to take a trip to the bedroom in your work clothes. He'd succeeded twice, and you were late to work both times. He hadn't been successful since, earning soft swats of your hand and gentle shoves.
However, this morning – you did it all on your own. Heeseung had recently taken on a new case and it was cutting into his sleep. He came home not even an hour before you woke up, several apologetic calls and texts throughout the night before you fell asleep at midnight without him.
You tucked him in, planting kisses across his face as you shrugged your coat on. He didn't stir, and you packed his breakfast and lunch and left it on the table. You took the long way, playing the same soft jazz station he did every morning.
One of your patients had called to reschedule, so you'd have an early afternoon home. You got a text from Heeseung moments after arriving at the clinic, complaining about why you didn't wake him up to take you – only for him to call you at noon and say he'd barely gotten up for work. You'd laughed and teased him about thinking he'd be able to take you to work when he clearly needed the rest, only to hear Sunghoon tell your lovebird of a husband to get off the phone and focus.
It'd been nearly four hours since then, and you were about to wrap up with Chaeyoung.
"I found him on social media, you know. His mom posted a congratulatory post, he works in the same town. He's a lieutenant at the Seventh Precinct." She picked at her nails, a frown on her lips as you try not to show your shock at her words. "Who, your best friend?" "Yes. He's married now, too. I couldn't find anything about her, though. His parents didn't post anything about the wedding but a backshot of him and the bride." She sighs, and you think back. You'd both asked his parents to keep it private, and they both chose that photo to post across their social media to boast to their friends. You'd appreciated it so deeply that you bought them a rice cooker for Christmas that year.
"Do you plan on going to see him at some point?" You ask smoothly, refilling her glass of water as she shrugs. "I planned on going today, actually. I'm just…nervous. I had a friend drop me off today, and I'd be going alone. I feel like I'd need a support system." "I can go with you, if you'd like. I'm headed that way anyway." The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and her eyes widened with surprise before she smiled. "You'd do that?" "Of course. This is a big step for you, you know? I'd just have to make some calls, I know that precinct happens to be rather finicky with visitors." You shrug, feeling the pit in your stomach grow deeper as you wonder how you're going to tell Heeseung. She nods excitedly, and you excuse yourself, walking down the hall so nothing can be heard through the door.
The line rings three times before Heeseung picks up.
"Hey, baby. What's up?" "You can't be mad at me. Promise you won't get mad." You rush out, and he laughs. "I won't be mad. At least, I don't think I'll be. Are you okay?" "She wants to meet you. She said she's going over there today, and my stupid ass offered to drive her over because I'm going home early, anyway." You're wincing as the line goes silent, before your husband sighs. "Oh, babygirl." You can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, the particular pet name only really slipping when he's stressed. "I'm sorry, honey." "No, no. It's fine, just..let me get some stuff settled, I'll let Minseo know to let you through without issues." He trails off, before another sigh is heard. "Does she know we're married?" "She found that back shot from our wedding. She doesn't know it's me." You sigh shakily, and your husband only echoes it back. "Alright, I'll let the guys know. Will you be in the room? I don't think I can do this alone." "Yes, of course. I won't be there as your wife, though, if that's…fine. Just think of it as that one time we roleplayed."
Your husband snorts, "Babe, that was the most awkward thing ever." "Because you can't hold character! But don't worry, we'll spin that one back someday." You hum affirmatively, earning a soft laugh. "I love you, baby. I'll see you in what, thirty?" "I'd run red lights for you if it wasn't illegal and dangerous." You shrug, despite him not being able to see you. He's probably rolling his eyes, a click of his tongue coming through the phone. "Be good, honey. I'll see you. Love you." "I will. Love you." You shoot a few texts off to the other detectives as the line hangs up, before sliding back into your office and seeing Chaeyoung sprawled across the couch with her arm over her eyes. "You alright in here?" Your soft chuckle startles her, and she straightens quickly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Sorry, I'm nervous." "Not to worry. They know me well, so don't be startled if anyone says anything." You smile as you grab your coat, before floating over to your computer and clicking around. "Ready to go? We can even stop and get a little drink for the drive." "You're such a girl, I love it." She giggles, and you feel your stomach sink as you shake your head with fake amusement. You feel awful lying to her – she'd been so open and honest, warming up to you incredibly fast. She eagerly bounces alongside you as you walk to your car after gathering your belongings and locking your office, slipping into your passenger seat as you quickly buckle yourself in.
The ride is full of nervous chatter from her and you drop your guard a bit, opting to talk to her about Heeseung through memories. You tell her about your first date, and she's amused, telling you about her first date with her husband – talking about how the two of them wound up getting lost in Busan because he'd forgotten his way around a smaller part of town. You only smiled throughout.
You arrived at the precinct with an iced coffee from a shop a block away, Chaeyoung holding an Americano as she nervously chewed her lip. You spoke to Minseo softly, your eyes pointed as she nodded – it seemed Heeseung had vetted everyone before your arrival. "Go ahead, Dr. Lee. Lieutenant Lee should be in his office, his schedule is clear for the afternoon." "Thank you, Minseo. Take a break soon, okay?" You give her a warm smile and this time, she returns it, before printing your visitor stickers and giving one to Chaeyoung. Her fingers tremble as she sticks it on her denim jacket, and you see Sunghoon staring intently in your direction before you give him a dirty look.
"Dr. Lee! Good to see you, it's been a while." He wanders over, draping his arm over your shoulders as you try not to groan in annoyance. "Detective Park, always a pleasure." "Sunghoon?" You hear Chaeyoung whisper, and he glances over at her with a mock look of surprise. "Yes? Do I know you?" She opens her mouth, but you quickly shake your head, reaching for her hand. "Later. I promise you'll have time."
"Sorry." She mumbles, but she looks over her shoulder at Sunghoon for a bit as you walk through the precinct. You note the way her eyes widen at the sight of Jake and Jay, their serious faces contorting to ones of confusion at her longing glances. They all pretend like their hearts aren't racing out of their chests as you knock on Heeseung's door, hearing an affirmative sound to come in.
"Lieutenant Lee." You poke your head in, squeezing Chaeyoung's hand in yours as your husband looks up. You fight the urge to say he looks handsome in his white button down and blue suit jacket, but he stands before you can say anything else.
"Dr. Lee, always a pleasure to see you. How can I help you?" He opens the door further, and you can almost hear the way he thanks his years of training for the stoicism on his face as he sees Chaeyoung. You pull her into the office as he steps out of the way, her eyes wide as you sit her down and quickly close the blinds, sticking your tongue out at Sunghoon for good measure.
You almost forget Heeseung has a few photos of you on his desk, and you look over your shoulder to see them all facing the wall behind his chair. You nearly sigh in relief, but clear your throat instead as you sit next to Chaeyoung. Heeseung smiles softly, checking his watch.
"How can I help you, ladies? Oh, I'm Lieutenant Lee Heeseung. At your service." He extends his hand, noting the way hers trembles as she takes it. He gives it a firm shake, before glancing at her again. "You look…kind of familiar. Have we met before?" "I can't." She whispers, her hand gripping onto the sleeve of your coat as you nod, before clearing your throat. "It's okay. You want me to talk?" She nods without a word, and you give Heeseung a pleading look. "So, we have a bit of a…predicament." "Right, as one would assume." He nods slowly, and you note the way he nervously chews his lip before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. "Are you in danger, or some sort of trouble?" He clicks a pen from his pocket, opening a drawer from the side table to take out a notepad.
"More like we have some answers to a case that went cold a few years back." You hear him hum, the pen not touching the paper as he looks up. "Alright, should I pull up some records?" "If you'd like, but it was a Missing Persons case you were involved with. Do you remember when we talked about it when we first met? The Cha Soyoung case?" "Ah…right. Right." He clears his throat, and you can see the tears beginning to well in his eyes as he blinks them back. "That case has long been dry, with lots of dead ends. Everyone in the precinct is familiar with it. Last update was, what, three years ago? Some sightings a few miles away." "Lieutenant, this is Jeon Chaeyoung." You introduce her properly, her eyes peering at him over your shoulder. He blinks, nodding slowly. "Formerly known as Cha Soyoung." He tilts his head at your words, as if he didn't already know. He stares blatantly, and you make her scoot up a bit so he can get a better look at her face. His eyes scan her repeatedly, before he stands up and moves to his desk, opening a drawer and taking out one of the many missing posters you used to put up every week. He looks at it for a moment, and sighs shakily. "You know, I appreciate you coming by–" "Hee, it's me." She blurts, a few tears rolling down her face as you see a pained look on your husband's face. He nibbles on his lip, his eyes full of stress as he looks at you. She stands up, and Heeseung tongues his cheek as he shakes his head. "Soyoung had a widow's peak, and a birthmark on her neck." "Heeseung, please. I know you're upset, and I…I'm sorry. I've missed you..." She trails off, and you note the way he's near tears, looking away from her, the paper crumpling in his hand as he clears his throat. "Dr. Lee, can I see you outside?"
Chaeyoung gives you a look of despair, and you just pat her shoulder with an apologetic look as you watch Heeseung storm out. "I'll talk to him, don't worry." She opens her mouth to speak, but she just sighs. Nodding, she takes a seat, and you tighten your coat around you as you follow your husband out. He's in the break room a few feet away, and he nearly shuts the door with a slam as you slip inside. His arm reaches for you, pulling him into you roughly and squeezing you so hard you can't breathe for a moment. "I can't do this. I'm not strong enough, Y/N." His voice is unsteady, but you snake your arms around his waist with a hum. "You know, I was worried. I was beginning to think you were going to let this all just…go. You are strong enough, and you can do this.. I know this is scary, it's so overwhelming. I know you, though. You're Lee Heeseung, you don't give up on anything. It's been almost a decade and you've worked so hard to get here. Don't you want to see the fruit of your hard work?" Your voice is soft but stern, and your husband only whimpers pitifully into your shoulder. You coo, running your hand down the nape of his neck as you sway the two of you gently. "I love you, baby. I believe you can get through this. You deserve a happy ending to it all. So many years of stress won't be good for your hairline." He actually snorts at your joke, but the tears continue nonetheless as he moves away, pouting as he sits in one of the chairs. You wipe your hands on his cheeks gently, offering him a tissue from your pocket as you squat in front of him. "It's gonna be okay. I promise." "I don't want to make amends. I don't think I can forgive her for this." He sniffles, and you nod in understanding. "That's okay, too. You don't need to be her friend again, even if that's what she wants. You owe her nothing, and vice versa." "I love you." He whines, covering his face with his hands as you laugh softly. "I know, I love you too, Hee."
"No, seriously, I'd ask you to marry me again if we weren't already married." He grabs your hands quickly, and you nearly lose your balance as he jerks you forward, enveloping you in a crushing embrace. "Submit your vacation paperwork and we can renew our vows instead." "I love you so much!" He cries into your coat. You can't help but laugh out loud, a bit of shock running through you as you take in his very big emotional outburst. "I know, I know! Now please, get it together. We've got to get back, and you need to talk to her. The poor girl is vibrating out of her skin."
"Kiss me." He pouts, looking up at you as you stand. You roll your eyes. "After. Promise." "I need it for encouragement. Be the wind beneath my wings, babe." He begs, making you sigh. "One kiss, and keep your tongue in your mouth." "Two kisses to make up for the lack of tongue." He counters, and you smack his arm before pressing your lips to his. His hands instinctively hold your waist, your own moving to hold his cheeks gently. It's slow and sweet, and you pull away as his teeth nip at your lower lip.
“Stop that." You brush two more chaste kisses on his lips, a pout appearing as you squeeze his hand. "Come on, we have to." "I love you." He repeats for the umpteenth time, and you know he's finding comfort in knowing that you both feel the same and are there for moral support. "I love you, Hee. Now, let's go." The other detectives pretend they don't notice the way you hold his hand tightly as you both exit the break room, Heeseung ducking his head to hide his teary eyes as you open the door to his office. You pop your head in, seeing a rather disheveled Chaeyoung on the couch.
"How're we feeling?" You call gently, squeezing Heeseung's hand behind you before you let go. She gives you a thumbs down as she wipes her eyes, and Heeseung clears his throat behind you as he carefully slips past. She shifts as he does so, and you shut the door behind you. He sits across from her carefully, her eyes shimmering with tears as she peers up at you.
Heeseung does the same, before glancing at your wedding rings. They're snug on your finger, and you carefully thumb at them as you gingerly take a seat on the couch next to Chaeyoung. You give him a pointed look, and he sighs, running his hand through his hair.
"I'm sorry, Hee." She whispers, and he nods. "I'm sure." "I really am. You would've talked me out of it, I know you."
Heeseung's hands flex on his knees, "You could've talked to me, at least. You could've said literally anything. You just up and left and expected no one would care." "You don't get it, Hee. I felt so much pressure from everyone around me, I was so tired of pretending like I wanted any of that for myself. I didn't want to take over the company, you knew that." She tries to reason, but you can tell he's fighting himself from saying anything out of line as he takes a deep breath.
"It's always what I knew and what you knew, but you clearly forgot the fact that you were my best friend. Since we were kids, and the most painful part of this all is confirming that you didn't trust me that entire time. There's no coming back from this." 
She's silent as he picks at his nails, before she speaks softly. "Don't you at least want to know how I'm doing?" He scoffs quietly, folding his hands in his lap. "Sure. Tell me everything you've built for yourself while I've spent a decade agonizing about whether or not you're alive." His tone is harsh and you find yourself giving him a hard look, your jaw tight as she looks down. He doesn't apologize, and you find yourself speaking softly.
"A lot of big feelings here, hm? There's a lot of pain to get through, so…let's not take anything to heart right now." You nod, and Chaeyoung nods next to you as she clears her throat. Heeseung doesn't acknowledge it, opting to bounce his leg.
"I got married. I know you did too, right? During college?" She nods, and he clicks his tongue. 
"Heeseung, be nice." You say his name out of habit, his eyes snapping to you as you wince at your mistake. "Didn't know we were on a first-name basis, Dr. Lee." "You know what I mean." You roll your eyes, and Heeseung sighs. "Yeah, I got married in college right after I turned twenty-one. Seven years ago."
"You're awfully young to be a Lieutenant." She says softly, and he struggles not to roll his eyes. "Doesn't take much to get promoted when you're constantly mulling over cases and neglecting other things for someone who didn't want to be found. You could've called, you know."
"Could I have? Because it seems like you hate me for doing what's best for me." Her eyes are narrowed now, and he scoffs. "I think I'm allowed to hate you for all its fucking worth at this point. You abandoned me nine years ago, you just up and left without a word! Do you know how many birthdays I had to spend answering questions about you instead of celebrating with my loved ones? You know how many date nights I shoved aside with my wife because I was here, hoping I'd get a crumb of knowing that you're at least alive? Do you understand how much of my life has gone into this?!" Heeseung is starting to lose his patience, but it seems Chaeyoung had been ready to blow her top for years.
"What about me, Heeseung?! You think I liked always being on the fucking sidelines, waiting for you to notice me? I had to fucking disappear for you to care about me? For you to look my way even once, I had to uproot my entire life? Is that what it had to fucking come to?!" 
Your lips part at her words, Heeseung's eyes widening before they narrow. "Are you serious? That's what you want to attribute this to? I didn't reciprocate your feelings so now I'm the bad guy? You fucking left, instead of communicating with anyone. You made that decision, no one forced you to take that road." "I did what I had to, and the fact that you never wanted to be with me despite us literally being the perfect love story was just the cherry on top. It was my catalyst and I hope you know that I resent you for making me feel so undesirable." She huffs, and you clear your throat as Heeseung glowers. 
"I think…we've lost our way a bit. This was more about reconnecting, I assumed it'd be a bit more peaceful. The blame game gets us nowhere." You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Chaeyoung takes a deep breath, struggling not to roll her eyes before pulling her phone out. "This is my husband. You'd like him, he plays bass and he produces music for an entertainment company. His name is Jungkook, we got married two years ago." Heeseung gives you a glance, your eyes nervous as you breathe out.
"Everything alright?" He asks gently, and you know it's his way of asking if he can talk about you. Your eyes are nervous, but you nod anyway, playing with the hem of your dress. Chaeyoung gives you a once over, patting your knee with a smile. 
"I'm sorry, I know this must be stressful. I should've never taken your offer, Dr. Lee." "No, I think this was necessary, really. For the three of us." You shrug, attempting to appear nonchalant. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes as Heeseung clears his throat, standing up to grab the photo of you off his desk. It's you on your honeymoon – the two of you took it the summer after you graduated from college. You were wearing a white dress and it was one of the most picturesque candids in your collection. He gives you a waywards glance, but you only nod as he sits down.
"This is my wife. You'd like her, she plays piano and crochets and does cross-stitch. She's a therapist. Her name is Y/N, we got married seven years ago." He flips the picture, and you watch her eyes widen out of your peripheral vision. She takes it gently, her manicured thumb stroking your smiling face. She looks pale as she turns to you, her jaw tight.
"Chaeyoung, I'm sorry." You whisper, and she gives you a glare. "Are you? You knew this entire time and you let me open up to you about everything? Did you tell him, too? Did you tell everyone here?" Her voice only raises as she scoots away from you, and you feel your cheeks heat as you run a hand through your hair. "We spent years looking for you, Chaeyoung. There were so many sleepless nights, so many tears, so much stress over you. This is hard for me too, you know." "What, loving a man who is nothing but a shell of a person? Yeah, I'm sure you loved filling his fucking cup until it overflowed while he casted you aside." She sneers, and you feel your chest tighten. "I'm sure it felt great being stuck in your house, wondering when the fuck he'd be home because he was here. Looking at case files, talking to forensics, doing anything instead of being home with you." Your throat burns as you clear it, but Heeseung interrupts as he takes the photo of you back. "Chaeyoung, you're obviously angry. I can't blame you for that, but I also won't allow you to speak to Y/N like this. She's here to help both of us." "Yeah, well you can take your help and fucking shove it, Y/N." She huffs, gathering her coat from the couch cushion. You stand quickly, holding your hands out to deter her from leaving. "Chaeyoung, please let me explain–" "Explain what? How you're a lying bitch?" She spits, and Heeseung's eyes narrow as he opens his mouth to say something, only for you to wave him off. Your gaze is unreadable as she continues to berate you. "You want to explain why you let me agonize over Heeseung for three weeks, and how you listened to me tell you how I felt about him and said nothing? What kind of fucking therapist are you?" "A dumb one." You say softly, "I didn't tell you I was married to Heeseung because that's none of your business. Getting you involved in my personal life could be incredibly damaging to my career, but I did it because I've known about you since before I met Heeseung." Her eyes are aflame as she stares you down, but you don't budge.
"I don't fight over men. I never have, I never will. What I will do, though, is tell you that though I knew mixing my personal life and my career could be a disaster, I did it because I love Heeseung. You suffered, you left because of all the pressure you felt. I understand that pressure, too. I know what it's like for your family to expect something from you that you simply don't want to provide, or feel like you can't."
Her eyes well with tears as she looks away.
"Just as you suffered, though, we did, too." You gesture at the space between you and Heeseung, and he steps slightly closer. "I cannot tell you the nights we spent walking all over town and putting posters anywhere they'd allow us to. I cannot even begin to explain the stress everyone felt, all of your friends, all of your family members because you just disappeared. I wasn't your friend, and I didn't know you personally…but it affected me, too." A tear falls down her face, and you reach to wipe it with the sleeve of your coat.
"There were so many nights that I'd be in Heeseung's dorm just talking about you. He'd tell me so many stories, he's shown me so many photos of you together. He's told me every piece of your life that he knows, and you've sat in my office for three weeks and done the same for him. Things I already knew, and things I didn't." She silently sits back down, letting the tears drip down her face.
"I know it's painful, to want something or someone so bad and have it be just out of your reach. I know it sounds like I'm bragging, or maybe like I'm trying to rub it in your face but I promise I'm not. Loving Heeseung has not been easy, there were many times I wanted to give up. There were nights he'd be locked in the home office, overthinking himself into a bottle of bourbon." You laugh softly, taking Heeseung's seat across from her. He stands behind you, his hand running up and down your back.
"There were times I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to hurt his feelings because he made me feel neglected. He'd come home late, he'd miss dinner, he wouldn't be around to just hang out. You told me during our first session that you and Jungkook dance together all the time, that he sings you to sleep. I cannot tell you how envious I would have been, had I met you just a week earlier." 
Her gaze meets yours, surprised. "What?"
"I mean what I say and I say what I mean." Heeseung speaks up, his voice a lot softer. "I was not a good husband. I'm still not, but it's not your fault. It's my fault, I wanted so badly to know that you were at least okay that I completely neglected Y/N. I wasn't present, emotionally or physically." "I knew it wouldn't be easy, loving someone like Heeseung." You interrupt him, "I knew loving someone who had gone through something so gut wrenching would be one of the most difficult things I'd ever have to do. I wanted it so bad, Chaeyoung. I wanted to love him, and be the glue that held him together. I wanted to be the person he woke up with in the mornings and the person he kissed goodnight. I wanted to be there, no matter what it took." "So you allowed all of it." She murmurs, and you sigh. 
"I fought it. I didn't want to brave the storm that was Lee Heeseung in college. But like a moth to a flame, I stayed. I got hurt time and time again, but the good outweighed the bad so much. I saw so much potential, I saw so much kindness and I knew in my heart I could help it flourish. And now, we're here." "Don't you feel jealous?" She asks, making you smile sadly before nodding. "Of course I felt jealous. I knew there was a girl that knew my husband more than I ever would, and I envied that. I wanted to know everything there was to know, but I had to come to terms with the fact that it simply couldn't be. We're ever-evolving, and while you may have known each other for so many years…you've both changed so much." She closes her eyes, her chipped nails digging into the fabric of her peacoat. Heeseung's hand rubs circles into your back, before you feel him squeeze your shoulder. "I don't hate you." She says suddenly, her eyes on Heeseung. He clicks his tongue, "I don't expect you to. I haven't done anything to you to make myself worthy of hating."
"Why not me?" She mumbles, and Heeseung's eyes close as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Just tell me that." "I can't do that to you, Chaeyoung." He shakes his head, and you hear her scoff. "Just do it, it'll make getting over you a lot easier. I already know you're married, I'm not going to make a fucking move." "I wouldn't allow it, either." He says through gritted teeth, making you shift in your chair, clearing your throat. "Would you like for me to step out?" "No." They say in unison, and Heeseung holds onto your shoulders as he looks at Chaeyoung. "Don't you think your family wants to know you're okay? It's been nine years." "What, do you keep up with them? Do they care about anything else besides that stupid company now?" She rolls her eyes, her jaw tight as she stares at her boots. "Your father sold it." Heeseung speaks softly, "He sold it not even a week after you left. Your sister bought it from him and funded half of the search party that looked for you for a year." Her eyes stay narrowed as her lips purse. "Doesn't mean they care. It was always the company this, the company that. Just like you, Hee." She glares up at him, "Focus on school, Soya. Let's study, Soya. We got into college and you just stopped wanting to hang out like we used to." "I'm 'just like them' because I prioritized my studies? Because I was on scholarship while mommy and daddy paid your way? My fucking bad, Soya." He scoffs, making her scowl. "See? You're just like them." "You're ungrateful! You've always been so blind at how things were just handed to you, you were always so fucking out of touch with everything! Your father had an entire company, a collection of businesses that he sold because you just wanted to up and leave! I don't think you will ever understand how privileged your life has been, even in the years you've been gone." His laugh is humorless as he shakes his head, and you clear your throat. 
"I think maybe this has been enough for one day." "You don't get to decide that, Y/N. I still want an answer. Why. Not. Me." She's standing now, her face tear-stained but her eyes…they're full of fury. Towards who, you're not entirely sure anymore.
You look up at Heeseung, his jaw clenched as he runs a hand through his hair. "You just don't have what I need. I won't be with someone who can't make me feel fulfilled in all aspects of life, or someone who doesn't share the same goals as me. You don't see the world the way I do, and you never have." "And she does?" She gestures at you, her voice thick as her eyes gloss over once more. "Yes. She does. She is everything I could ever ask for and so much more than I will ever deserve." He folds his hands in front of him, "There is always going to be something in this life you cannot have, whether it be an object, a person, even a stick of gum. You can't hold onto that resentment forever, it will make you miserable. You shouldn't live your life that way, not when you have a husband who loves you and a life people would kill for. Not when someone you said was your best friend over and over has someone who loves him." She glares at him, her chest rising with shallow breaths. She shakes her coat off, pulling it over her arms and walking towards the door. Her hand wraps around the doorknob as she looks at the two of you, the tick in her jaw growing tighter as she sees you stand.
"You don't have to act like this, Chaeyoung. You don't have to keep running away, you'll never solve anything this way." "You're married to the man I've been in love with since I was six years old. You lied to me, knowing I was in pain about this entire situation, and you stand here and try to act innocent. You're just as guilty as I am, so you don't get to tell me how I get to act, Y/N." She whispers, a singular tear rolling down her face as she turns to Heeseung. 
"You can tell my parents, and whoever else you please. Y/N can give them my information. I won't be coming back to Seoul, and I won't be visiting your practice again. Do not contact me further, and I won't make a scene."
She throws the door open, revealing the gaggle of detectives bunched around the door. Sunghoon nearly falls into the office as they disperse like bugs, catching himself on the doorframe. Chaeyoung stares up at him, his own eyes flickering to you. "You okay in here?"
"Fine." Heeseung replies curtly, and Chaeyoung scoffs, pushing past Sunghoon with a scowl on her face. She stalks through the precinct, and Minseo stares wide eyed as she shoves Jay and Jake out of the way to the double doors. Your eyes never leave her, continuing to stare after her as the doors shut.
You hear a disappointed sigh from your husband, and you peer up at him as Sunghoon shuts the door with his lips pressed into a thin line. He looks a mess, and you move to comfort him as Jay opens the door. He strides in confidently, a quirk in his brow as he pulls his hand out of his pocket, a new pack of cigarettes in his hand.
"Shall we?" It doesn't take much convincing to get you and Heeseung out the backway of the precinct, and you find yourself resting your forehead against the rough brick of the building. Jay lights your cigarette, sliding it between your fingers as Heeseung lights his own. You mumble a thanks, before holding it between your lips.
"Long day, huh?" He starts, his words muffled as he holds his own between his lips, the flicker of the lighter catching your attention. You nod, pushing off the brick wall to face the two men. Jay gives you a once over, "New dress?" "Storage." You shake your head, blowing smoke from your lips as Heeseung paces back and forth. "How's your girlfriend?" "Not my girlfriend, just a fling. Cut her off a bit ago. Feeling good, though." He nods, and Heeseung walks by you, your hand reaching for him. He takes it, leaning against the wall as he pulls you to him. He spins you around, making you face Jay as he wraps his arm in front of you. "PDA? From Lee Heeseung?" Jay acts shocked as you snort, closing your eyes as you lean your head back onto his shoulder. "You'd be surprised what Lee Heeseung has been up to these days." "Mmh, do tell." He shrugs, flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Did you know sharing details of your sex life to your friends is considered inappropriate social behavior?" You smirk, and he raises his brow.
"Oh, don't tell me the people who have been married for seven years are fucking. Oh man, holy shit." Jay sarcastically rolls his eyes, holding his hand to his chest as if he were clutching pearls. "Like animals." Heeseung speaks for the first time since you stepped outside, making your eyes widen as Jay's do the same. You glance up at him, watching the way he throws the cigarette butt onto the floor and stomps it out with his foot. He plucks yours from your fingers, slotting it between his lips for a slow drag before giving it back. His lips have a layer of glitter on them from your lipgloss.
"Hee, you cannot say that." "Who cares? It's Jay. It's not like he's going to ask to watch us fuck." He shrugs, making your cheeks grow hot as you turn to Jay to apologize, who is looking away with red ears. Heeseung looks over, blowing smoke out of his lips as he speaks. "Dude." "You fucking brought it up, dickwad." Jay scoffs, before stomping out his own cigarette butt. You don't speak, opting to run a hand through your hair as Heeseung sighs.
"Did you guys hear anything through the door?" "Every word. Walls are thin, you know." Jay nods, offering another cigarette. Heeseung takes it, sighing as Jay hands him the lighter. "I cannot believe she's been in love with you since you were kids." "She's not in love with me, she's infatuated with the idea of me." He rolls his eyes, fiddling with the lighter. "Her parents used to fight in front of us all the time, and when we were seventeen she told me that she wanted something better than that. Admirable, truly, but she was never going to find that with me." He holds the blue flame to the cigarette, before handing it back to Jay. "Wasn't she your first kiss?" "Ugh, yeah. I only said yes because she kept talking about how Mina, you remember her sister Mina? Mina had her first kiss at sixteen." He rolls his eyes again, his arm around you tightening slightly as he leans his head back onto the building. "I think a part of me hates her." "That's valid." You and Jay say in unison, before Jay tilts his head for you to continue. You shake yours, shrugging as Heeseung continues to talk. "She always pushed for us to become more and I just didn't want that. She lacks so much compassion, and that's why her father wanted her to take over the company. She's cold and calculated and that's why I befriended her in the first place, because no one wanted to be her friend. She was mean to everyone, but I guess she learned how to fake it well." You'd never heard Heeseung speak of her this way, but he clicks his tongue before you can ask anything. "I don't want to keep talking about her. I still have to call her parents, fuck." He runs his hand over his face. The three of you sigh in unison, a snort from Jay as he notices it, "Well…I can say that I'm glad to know she's alive, even if we don't let her back into our lives."
"Yeah." Heeseung nods, taking a final drag from the cigarette in his mouth before dropping it and putting it out. "I guess that's the silver lining in this all. Nine years…man." You nod silently, before patting his arm. "We can call on Monday when I get home from work. I have to get all her information, anyway, and remove her from my patient registry so her insurance stops getting processed." "Shit, I forgot about that." Heeseung groans, slumping slightly as Jay laughs. "You guys head on home, we can get paperwork processed to actually close the case. We'll see you on Tuesday, Lieu." "Tuesday?" He echoes absently, and Jay scoffs. "Fine, Wednesday. Is that too much time away for you, workaholic?"
Your laugh makes Heeseung look up, watching you as you put out your cigarette. The two of you only indulged every once in a while, and Heeseung never fully took the habit up after you refused to kiss him one night after a smoke. Jay bids the two of you goodnight as you all walk back into the building, his box of cigarettes now broken in and Heeseung beelining for his office to grab his coat. "Hungry?" You ask as he shrugs it on, and he shakes his head. "Wanna go home and shower, go to bed. Wanna cuddle?"
He never asks. You can’t bring yourself to say no, not that you’d want to anyway.
It's easy with you. You end up leaving your car in the precinct parking lot, dropping the keys on Jake's desk with the promise of dinner if he dropped it off at your house before morning. He rolled his eyes but agreed. The entire precinct watched as you left, Heeseung's arm holding you close – a sight they'd never seen.
"Can I be the little spoon tonight?" He asks as he buckles you in, and you press a kiss to his temple. "Yeah, Hee."
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Monday, 6:32pm
The two of you spent the weekend processing everything that happened. You reluctantly left your husband's side for work this morning, driving yourself as he slept soundly. Your day felt incredibly slow, your hands aching to feel his warm skin under yours.
You'd felt the need to coddle him all weekend – you made his favorite meals, you massaged his back, you even made him a new pair of slacks. A navy blue this time, his smile shy as he modeled them for you on Sunday night. The two of you cuddled for hours, Heeseung burrowing his face in any crevice you'd allow. He kissed your skin all over, mumbles of I love you and hold me tighter falling from his lips as you spent the passing hours in your bed.
Your last patient of the day was a young girl in her twenties, her eyes constantly glossed over with tears as she tried to get comfortable with you. She wound up sobbing, your chest aching as you tried to comfort her. By the time she left, she looked much better – and she told you, thank you for your help. You have no idea how long I've been holding that in. It was enough to make your chest swell with pride as you drove home, a smile on your lips as you picked up dinner and played soft jazz on the radio. You felt the weight of the world slip onto your shoulders as you pulled into your driveway, killing the engine as you fished your house key out of your bag.
You'd contacted Chaeyoung's insurance the moment you got to the clinic, and pulled her from your patient registry without a second thought. You shoved her file into your bag and pushed the thought of it all out of your mind, choosing to focus all your energy on your patients and the way your shoes hurt your feet.
"Baby?" You called into the house as you opened the door, kicking your heels off with a sigh of relief. The cold tile of the foyer against your hot skin felt like Heaven, a shiver running down your spine as you set the bag of takeout down on the dinner table. You stop to listen, but hear nothing. "Baby, are you home?" You walk down the hall, reaching to take your earrings out as you cross the threshold to the bedroom. You see your husband laying on his back with his headphones on, the light off and curtains drawn. He wouldn't be able to see you if his eyes were open, but you can see him thanks to the light in the hallway behind you. His arms are crossed over his face, but you hear the familiar quiet sob fall from his lips. You feel your chest ache at the sight, but you don't interrupt him. You merely move your hands from your ears, leaving the earrings he gifted you a few years ago on as you fold your hands behind your back.
You watch him cry for a few minutes, before he groans in disgust. He wipes at his face angrily, sitting up abruptly with his eyes wide. He jumps as he sees you, his hand flying to his chest as you smile. "Hi." "Holy shit, babe. Don't do that." He takes his headphones off, carding his fingers through his hair as you shrug. "Maybe don't lay on our bed in the dark when I call for you twice." He rolls his eyes as you near the bed, your palms cool against his skin. "Anything you want to talk about?" Your thumbs wipe his cheeks as he shakes his head.
"Same old, just angry at the entire ordeal." He mumbles, his hands finding your hips. You hum, pressing a kiss to his hairline. "Well, I brought dinner. Come eat with me." "What did you get?" His voice is muffled as he buries his face in your stomach, the buttons of your vest annoying him as he huffs. You card your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails along his scalp, "I stopped at Pasta La Vista." "What happened to no more cheesy pun restaurants?" He snorts, and you pinch his cheek. "Ah, but I love going to those places with you. I love you, you know." 
He sighs, reaching up to turn the light on. His fingers tug gently on the pull cord, the soft yellow light illuminating the room suddenly. You both wince as your eyes adjust, blinking rapidly before looking at each other. His mouth drops, making your head tilt. "Something wrong?" "Babe. Are you serious?"
His voice is whiny, paired with the splotchy cheeks and swollen lips from his crying. You furrow your brow in confusion, feeling his hands tighten on your hips. "What? Did I do something wrong?" "Be so fucking serious with me right now. Look at what you're wearing." He huffs, pulling at one of your belt loops. You glance down at your outfit, a form-fitting black pinstripe suit you hadn't worn in a few years. It had a matching vest, one you paired with a white button down underneath. You'd worn your white Hot Chicks, much to the dismay of your poor feet. "Do I look bad?" You ask softly, glancing at yourself in the mirror when he gets your attention by pulling at your belt buckle. "Are you kidding me? You look fucking amazing! You haven't worn this in ages, where the hell did you find it?" "You could've started with that! You had me thinking I did something wrong!" You huff, swatting at his shoulder as his fingers fiddle with the buttons of your vest. "I'm sorry, but you really caught me off guard. Fuck, have these always fit like this?" He runs his hands down the back of your thighs, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly as you shove his hands off you.
"Stop feeling me up and come eat dinner. We have things to do before we can turn in for the night." You remind him as you turn around to walk out of the bedroom when you feel his fingers pinch the swell of your ass. You reach behind you and smack his hand away, "Stop it!" "Fine, fine. Let me…get cleaned up I guess. I feel gross." He groans, rolling his eyes as he slides off the bed. You make your way to the kitchen without any more of Heeseung's touching, and you carefully plate everything up. You know he'd be content just eating on the couch with a show on, but you need something to busy yourself as your mind whirls with the idea of calling Chaeyoung's parents.
What would you even say? "Nice to meet you, now let me tell you all about how I betrayed your daughter when she came to me for therapy!" You groan, running your hands through your hair as you overwhelm yourself with thoughts. You thought you'd be fine, but you sort of thank your stars that you managed to make it through work without thinking about it. You'd rather be home and agonizing over it than anywhere else.
In all your thinking, you don't hear Heeseung walk into the kitchen. Your head is low between your shoulders as you hold onto the sink, taking deep breaths. You jolt when you feel his hand on your back, a concerned look in his eyes. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, fine. Sorry, just…thinking." You sigh, before pushing off the sink. He gives you a stern look, his hands moving to your waist to pull you into him. “Talk to me.”
You gently bang your forehead against his chest, “What are we even going to tell them?”
A low whistle comes from your husband’s lips, “I have no idea. Promise to still think I’m sexy if I break down?”
You snort, slapping his chest lightly as he smiles down at you. “Emotional vulnerability is sexy, Hee.”
“You want me so bad.” He chides, making you roll your eyes. You try not to let your eyes linger on the muscle of his arms, now showcased by a sleeveless white shirt he must've changed into. “Let’s eat dinner and I’ll take care of whatever hornball issue you have later.”
“Will you keep the suit on?” He asks, brow raised as he scans your face. You rub your temples, before feigning an annoyed sigh. “Yes, Heeseung, I’ll keep the suit on.”
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He smiles as you try to weasel your way out of his arms, but he holds you tightly. He pins you against the sink, his hand moving to hold your face gently. The tip of his nose touches yours slightly, the same electricity that skin-to-skin contact with your husband causes runs down your spine. “Have I?”
“You’re going to wax poetic after I said I’d keep the suit on to get you off?” You snort, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m going to wax poetic after my wife agrees to some weird shit I ask of her simply because she loves me as I love her.”
You struggle not to roll your eyes, but your warming cheeks give you away. "Please focus on the order of events, will you? Dinner, dreaded call, then whatever freak shit you have in your head. Move it." He grins as he presses a kiss to your forehead, before letting you worm out of his grasp. Dinner is quiet, with neither of you wanting to talk too much in detail about your days. Heeseung would know you were so stressed that you skipped lunch, and you'd know that he'd had to change his pillowcase twice because of how long he'd been crying. It wasn't something either of you wanted to share, but simultaneously, you both knew. "Do you think they'll be happy?" You murmur around a breadstick, a pout on your husband's lips as he chews. "I mean…I would hope so. Mrs. Cha lost her mind when she disappeared." "Define lost her mind." 
He sighs, taking a sip of his water. "I guess the same way I did, but worse. The first year had to have been the worst. No sleep, she barely ate and was having constant breakdowns…but it's different. A mother's love is nothing compared to what I may have felt then." He shrugs, and you find yourself humming in response.
Your eyes are downcast, pushing the remaining pasta around on your plate as he gazes at you. "I'm sorry to have put you through that." "Do you remember our vows? I'd promised I'd be there, always." You say pointedly, and he shakes his head. "I mean, through what happened on Friday. I will never stop apologizing for any of it, I know that in my heart. That day was just too much for you, I saw it in the way you looked at her. She hurt your feelings." "Calling me a bitch is hardly hurting my feelings, I've heard far worse." You snort, but Heeseung leans slightly across the table. "You know that's not what I'm talking about, honey. You're great at your job, you have to know that."
You sigh, "I know, I even had a patient today tell me I helped her a lot and it made me feel really nice. But, I will admit it was a dumb move to keep Chaeyoung as a patient. I should have told her from the get-go who I was and what I knew, and then maybe Friday would've gone differently. If at all, you know." "It's too late to think about what we should have done. We can only look forward, and unfortunately that means we have to make that call to her parents." He slumps in his chair, closing his eyes. "What if I cry?" "Then you cry, honey." You shrug, "I'll be here anyway. We're doing this together." Nothing more is said as the two of you clean up, opting to brush your teeth to remove the taste of the garlic from your tongues. You find yourself reapplying your lipstick, wiping the corners of your lips as you cap the wine red wax. Heeseung sits on the couch with his phone in his hand as you retrieve the file from your purse. He sighs as you walk over, your thigh brushing his as you sit next to him. "Ready?" You ask softly, your fingers flicking the file open. Heeseung sighs inwardly as he dials the number he's known by heart since he was a kid. You drape your leg over his to feel him closer, his hand sliding around your upper thigh as the line rings.
"Cha Residence, Seonmi speaking." 
The woman's voice is tired, and Heeseung squeezes his eyes shut as he speaks. "Hi, Mrs. Cha. It's uhm…it's Heeseung." The line is quiet for a moment, before a gentle sigh is heard. "Hi, sweetheart. Long time." "I know, I'm sorry." He mumbles, earning a soft laugh from her. "Nothing to be sorry for. Are you alright? How's your wife?"
"She's good. She's here, actually. Would you like to say hello?" He holds the phone towards you, and you clear your throat as you say a soft hello. "Oh, hello! Wow, I've never heard you speak, I've only seen photos of you. How are you? Heeseung treating you well, I hope?" You feel your cheeks heat as you respond, "Yeah, yes ma'am. I'm okay, how are you?" "Oh, you know. Same old, struggling. Did you guys need something from me? Maybe something of Soyoung's?" She sounds so tired, it makes your heart ache.
"Actually, we called with an update. If you're in the headspace to hear it." Heeseung says shakily, and you find yourself pressing a kiss to his cheek, stamping your lipstick on his skin. He leans into your lips, and you brush another in the same place before leaning your head on his shoulder.
"Oh, boy. Another sighting, I assume?" Mrs. Cha sounds defeated, and you can hear the clicking of a keyboard in the distance. You clear your throat, and Heeseung holds the phone to you. "I think it's better if my wife tells you." "Sweetheart, please get on with it."
You take the phone gingerly, clearing your throat. "For starters, I'm a therapist in the next town over. I started that job a few weeks back, and I've been taking new patients. Your daughter was one of them." Nothing is heard on the other end, and Heeseung gives you a nod to keep talking. His hand squeezes around your thigh, and you speak again. "She's changed her name, and she's married. I…she talked about everything that led to her disappearance as well as everything going on in her life currently. She's well, and she's established."
"So…you found her?" You hear a soft sob from the other end, your own eyes stinging. "We did. She talked a lot about Heeseung, so I didn't tell her we were married. I drove her to the precinct on Friday to see him again for the first time since she disappeared, and it did not go well, to say the least. However, she did give us permission to share her information with you, and I've got everything in front of me if you've got a pen or something to jot it down." You hear the rustling of paper and pens knocking against each other as someone talks in the background. Mrs. Cha sniffles into the phone, "Go ahead. I'm ready." You read everything out to her, spelling street names and offering to send photos over as well. "And you're sure it's her? You know it?" Mrs. Cha's voice is shaky as you hear a chair get pushed back, and Heeseung replies, "Positive. We wouldn't have called if we weren't sure, I was in denial when Y/N told me." "Do you…should I call her? I know she's angry with me, she must be." Mrs. Cha sounds distant, like she's walking somewhere. "She may be angry, but I'm sure she wouldn't have allowed us to give you her information if she didn't want you to contact her or know of her reappearance." You say gently, and hear Mrs. Cha laugh through her presumed tears.
"You chose the right profession, Y/N. I can see how easily this comes to you." 
Heeseung's eyes widen as he looks down at you, your own lips spread in a shy smile. His eyes speak for themselves – See? Told you.
"Thank you." You murmur, and Heeseung squeezes your leg as he clears his throat. "Well, that's all we really called for. Feel free to keep us updated, we'll get all the paperwork for the case figured out. We can handle our end privately, but you can choose how to go about things on your end." "Thank you, sincerely. I know the last nine years have been grueling for you as well, Heeseung. I hope you know you'll always have a place in our family and our hearts, and you're welcome in our home any time. You as well, Y/N. We'd love to have you over for dinner."
You gape as Heeseung answers gently, saying he'll figure out some dates and get back to her. She agrees, and a soft take care is whispered from your husband before he hangs up.
He leans forward to put his phone and Chaeyoung's file on the coffee table, before sighing. You rest your arm against the back of the couch, smushing your cheek with the heel of your palm. He slumps against the cushions silently, his hand slinking up and down your thigh.
"Feel better? This was somehow under and overwhelming." "Weight off my fucking shoulders, I'll tell you that much." He huffs, rubbing his face in frustration. You hum, reaching to run your fingers through his hair as he turns his head to face you, a pout on his lips. "Why does everything have to suck?" "Does everything suck?" You repeat thoughtfully, looking around your living room. "I mean, consider the good things. We've got this wonderful home, we have our health and your family. We have our jobs. Job market is garbage, you know." He sighs, looking around the room. "Now I just sound ungrateful." You snort, before pushing yourself up and straddling his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You settle high on his thighs, his hands instinctively coming to rest on your hips. "You're not ungrateful, you're just going through the motions. I honestly thought you'd be worse. That's why this all seems so underwhelming to me, I thought it would be a much bigger ordeal, that you'd be excited to see her." "I would have been, if it weren't for the fact that she left at her own will. A part of me just wishes she would have fucking said something, I could've talked to her. Or her parents, or something, you know?" He's frustrated as you nod, thumbing the lobe of his ear. "Oh, but you can't save everyone. You're only human. I know that's one of the first fates you face when you do the kind of work you do." He huffs, "I just have questions that I won't ever get answers to. It bothers me because no matter what she does or says, it just feels like betrayal over and over again. If we pile the fact that she said all those shitty things to you, it just makes me hate her more."
"Hating people is so taxing, baby." You shrug, "It's not good for the spirit, or your hairline." "Keep making jokes about my hairline, see how that works out for you." He scoffs, making you scrunch your nose at him. "I've been making jokes about your hairline since we met, I think it's worked out just fine. I have this house, I have this couch…" You trail off as you lean closer, brushing your nose with his, his eyes wide as he looks up at you. "I have you, on this couch, in this house and your signature on a paper that says you're my husband. What does that say about you?" "That I like gorgeous women in suits who make fun of me, I guess." He shrugs, his hands squeezing your hips as you brush your lips against his. You move away as he tries to connect your lips, making him roll his eyes. "Just kiss me, will you?" "Is that how we get the things we want?" You pull back, your brow raised as he sighs. This was a game you liked to play every once in a while, knowing that Heeseung easily flustered when you took charge. He reveled in it, sure, but it definitely took him a bit to accept that you called the shots.
"Babe, come on." "Hm, I don't like that answer." Shrugging, you start moving off his lap, earning a groan as he uses his strength to hold your hips flush to his. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please kiss me, I need it." "You need it?" You scoff, your hands on his shoulders as he blushes, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. "I need you."
"Yeah? Need me where?" Your eyes look at him expectantly, feeling him shift under you with nerves, looking down. Your gaze doesn't waver as you tilt his chin back up, his eyes full of lust and adoration. "Where?" "Here." His cheeks flushed impossibly deeper as he pouted up at you, moving your fingertips to his lips. He kisses the pads of your fingers, making you coo as you press your lips to the tip of his nose. He chases your lips as you plant kisses around his entire face, stamping your lipstick on his skin carefully. "Baby, please." 
"I love you." You murmur against his lips, making his eyes flutter shut as you finally kiss him. His hands move to your waist, pulling your chest flush to his as you shrug off your suit jacket, tossing it to the side as you gently lick into his mouth. He groans into your mouth, his fingers flexing against your body as you suck on the tip of his tongue. His hips rut up against you slowly, a whine from your throat making you pull away, dragging your lips down his jaw. 
"Can I take care of you, baby?" You murmur against the shell of his ear, making him shiver as you nip at the lobe, a quiet please from his throat. His hands twitch at your sides, soft whines from his lips as you trail your tongue down the slope of his neck. You feel his fingers move to fumble with the buttons of your vest, before he untucks your shirt, sliding his hands slightly under it to feel the heat of your skin against his. 
"I love you so much." He mumbles as you kiss his swollen lips again chastely, your fingers undoing your shirt buttons as he watches your face with low eyes. His hands snake higher on your stomach, before the tips of fingers brush your bare breasts. His eyes widen as he pulls away, jaw falling slack as he sees your lack of undergarments. "Baby." "Just enjoy it." You roll your eyes, shivering as he runs his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. He leans forward slightly, before your hand cards through his hair. "This is not about me." "You said enjoy it. How can I, if you don't let me?" He scoffs, moving your hand from its spot on the nape of his neck, pulling you forward into his mouth. His tongue swirls expertly around the hardened nub, your hand finding and digging into the back of the couch. Heeseung feels his head spinning as he breathes you in, the soft scent of his favorite perfume on your skin. You groan quietly as your hips roll against his, a soft fuck from your lips as he carefully drags his teeth on the sensitive bud. He moves to the other side, your hand tangling in his hair again as he plants wet kisses across your chest. "So perfect for me." He murmurs, flattening his tongue against your nipple as his hands move to undo your belt. He pulls it through the loops within seconds, tossing it aside and palming your ass over your pants, moving you over his bulge slowly. He relishes in the sounds you make, whimpers from your throat making his cock twitch in his pants as he continues to lap at your chest. "Always so fucking beautiful. You make me insane."
You whine in response, pulling his head away from your chest and reconnecting your lips. He feels your hand snake down between your bodies, palming at his hardened cock through his sweatpants. He groans into your mouth, his hips rutting into your hand involuntarily. You slip your tongue in his mouth, letting him messily kiss you back as he tangles a hand in your hair – your own beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging at them gently. He obliges, lifting his hips for you to pull them down to his knees. You pull away from his lips as much as the hand in your hair will allow, your hand wrapping around his leaking cock gently. He shudders as you stroke him, whining against your lips when you pull his hand out of your hair, sliding off his lap and settling between his knees. He lets out a breath as you glance up at him through thick lashes, before pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. His hands move back to your hair, gathering it into a messy ponytail as you continue to drag your lips around his skin, faint lipstick stains marking your path. He feels his stomach cave the moment you swirl your tongue around his tip, a broken moan cutting through the air.
"S'fucking pretty like this…" He groans, watching as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks slightly. Your tongue laps at the underside of his cock, following the thick vein as his tip hits the back of your throat. Gagging around him, you feel his hips jerk up involuntarily, a murmured apology as you pull off, shaking your head. "Want it, want you to do that." 
Your ears are watery as you look up at him, your hand wrapped around his shaft as his lips parted in a soft grunt. He wipes his thumb across your lower lip before he takes his cock in his hand, "Beautiful."
You feel your cheeks flush, not responding to the compliment as he opens your mouth for you. You stick out your tongue, making him smirk as he slides the heavy head of his cock on it. You blink up at him before you sink down on him, hearing a soft sigh fall from his lips. He rocks his hips up slowly, throwing his head back with a whimper as you gag around him.
"Feel s'fucking good, baby. Love you so much, fuck…" You feel your skin prickle at the praise, your eyes brimming with tears as the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat, a groan making him shiver. "Always so good to me…"
You hum as best as you can, feeling his hand tighten in your hair as the tell-tale whimper falls from your husband's lips. He pulls you off almost reluctantly, staring up at the ceiling and biting down on his lip as you look up at him, seeing his chest move in shallow breaths. "Hee–" "Need to feel you." He pulls you off your knees by your wrists, making you slide your knee between his for balance. His lips feel frantic as he kisses you messily, groaning at the slight taste of himself inside your mouth as you try to keep up. "Need to cum inside you, baby." His lips ghost over yours as he unbuttons your slacks, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip as he hooks his thumbs into the belt loops. You let him tug them down, stepping out of them when he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your skin. "Take it off." "What, do you want me to strip for you?" You roll your eyes, and he smirks lightly. "We can spin that back another time. Take it off." You oblige, feeling your husband's hands wrap around your thighs as you kick your underwear off to the side. He pulls you forward, instinctively making you straddle him slightly before he looks up, his hand snaking between your thighs. "Do you need–"
You shake your head quickly as he glides his fingers through your wet folds, his eyes widening as you shiver. He holds his hand up to the light, your arousal stringy between his fingers, gathering around his wedding band. He peers up at you, "Really?" "Shut up." Your cheeks burn as he scoffs out a laugh, before running his tongue over his fingers. "All fours, please." He tilts his head towards the free space on the couch, your eyes narrowing as you do as he says, hearing the thwip of his shirt being pulled over his head. 
"You know," You mumble as you settle on your elbows, "This is not-ah!" The warm feeling of Heeseung's tongue on your clit makes you jolt, and you feel him smile into your skin as his hands rest on your hips. He groans as you push your hips against his face, your fingers digging into the couch cushion as you whine into the brown suede. "So fucking wet, for what? A little kissing?" He's talking down to you, amused at the way your pussy clenches around his tongue, your whimper muffled by your shirt sleeve, "I love you." "Yeah? My messy girl loves me?" His voice is clearer now, and you feel his hand grip your hip as he drags the tip of his cock through your folds with a hiss. You push back against him with a whine, earning a firm smack to the back of your thigh. "Behave. You can wait."
You can hear him mutter under his breath as he ruts against you, his breathing shaky as he holds you steady. You feel him sink inside you slowly, the wet squelch making your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you whimper at the stretch. "I know honey, I know." Heeseung's voice is almost goading as he rocks into you slowly, biting down on his lip as you clench around him. "You take me so well, baby. Just love this dick, huh?" He holds your hips tight as you nod, your voice lost on you as he brushes that spongy spot inside you. You're pliant in his hands, your eyes rolling back when you feel his hand come down on your ass sharply, a moan falling from your lips into the cushion.
"Filthy little thing." He mutters, running his hand over the reddened skin. "Love being treated like a slut, don't you?" His fingers move to hold onto your waist, hearing you mumble something before leaning down slightly. "Don't you?" "Yours. Your slut." You mumble as you nod shyly, the duality making his chest ache as he coos. "All mine, yeah? Get this wet for me only, right?" The sound of your soft moans is almost drowned out by the smack of his hips against your ass. 
"Always feel so good around me, baby, shit.." His hand tangles in your hair, pulling you up carefully. You whimper as your back hits his chest, your hand holding onto the back of the couch as he bullies his cock into you. He feels you clamp down around him, your skin hot to the touch as he slides his hand down, circling your clit with his fingers.
"Always take such good care of me, my gorgeous girl. My wife, fuck, I love you." He mutters into your neck, his eyes catching your earrings swinging as he nips at your skin. You whine inwardly, looking away from him as you clench around him, your orgasm on the tip of your tongue as he thrusts into you. 
His hand moves from your hair to cradle your face, turning you just slightly to see the fucked out glaze in your eyes, your lips swollen and slick with spit. He smiles softly, brushing his lips over yours, "I love you."
You close your eyes as he kisses you messily, nothing but teeth and tongue as your orgasm washes over you, a whiny moan into your husband's mouth. He carefully tugs off your vest and shirt, "Just a little more baby, almost there. Gonna fill you up, yeah?" "Y-Yeah." You whimper as he lets you fall forward slowly, your trembling thighs only egging him on as he runs his hands over your bare back. "So fucking perfect. S-Such a perfect woman, could never ask for anyone better. M-My angel, my everything." He's rambling, forcing himself to focus as he overstimulates you chasing his orgasm. You mewl into the cushion relentlessly, pushing against him when he notices you holding your hand out behind your back. He interlocks your fingers, before spilling inside you with a whimper. He shudders above you, your hand squeezing his gently before you let go. He digs his fingers into your hips deeply, earning a groan as you shakily try to sit up on your elbows. You only manage to push back on him, a choked moan ringing through the air as he grabs at your hips. He winces as he pulls out carefully, his eyes glued to the way you clench around nothing with soft breaths. His fingers ghost over your hole as you push his release out, not realizing how sensitive you are as he smears it all over your glistening folds. "H-Heeseung!" You reach back to swat at him, making his eyes snap up to look at you. He smiles sheepishly, apologizing under his breath as he wipes his fingers on his shirt. 
"You okay?" He murmurs, his cheeks aflame as he realizes how spent you are, your hips almost giving out as he holds you up. You give him a tired nod, "We cannot fuck on my precious couch again. People sit here." He scoffs, and you feel the soft cotton of his shirt wiping down your legs. You feel him shift behind you, flinching when you feel his shirt wiping between your thighs. "Can't we just shower?" "We can, but I can't lie…I kind of like watching it drip out." He admits quietly, and you roll your eyes. "I feed so many of your guilty pleasures, but this is one I'm going to cut short. I'm all sticky." "I can make you stickier, if you want." He runs his hands up your thighs, and you scoff as you use your remaining strength to flip yourself onto your back. He's red in the face, and not just from your lipstick, his eyes glued to your center. "Hee, stop. You fucking freak." "This fucking freak is your husband, I'd be nicer to me if I were you. I suggest you tell me you love me, that's a pretty good start." He shrugs, acting nonchalant as he leans down. You give him an amused look as you run your fingers through his hair, "And I married you, why?" "Because I'm tall, tan, young, lovely." He shrugs, making you snort. "Girl from Ipanema, is that you?" "I love you." He wrinkles his nose as you press a soft kiss to it, his hands carefully moving your hair out of your eyes. "Thank you. I didn't realize how much I needed this. How much I…need you. I'm sorry it's taken me this long, baby." Your cheeks warm at his confession, your thumbs gently stroking his cheeks. "I love you. I'm always here when you need a little TLC." "And when I don't?" "And when I do, and when I don't. Whenever, you know I'm here." You assure softly, his eyes slightly glazed over as you press a chaste kiss to his lips. "However, I will admit…my TLC of preference right now is a hot shower. Care to join me?" "You and your hot showers. Can you even stand up?"
"If I can't, it just means you can eat me out in the shower." You shrug, seeing the wheels turn in your husband's head as he locks your legs around his waist. A shriek falls from your lips as he picks you up, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he moves towards the bathroom with a kiss to your lips. "And suddenly, I too, love hot showers. Shall we?"
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Tuesday, 12:33pm.
It'd been a few weeks since you and Heeseung reached out to the Cha family, and the case had been officially declared closed by the Seventh Precinct. However, such a reappearance after so many years for such a prolific family meant many, many interviews and involvement with the press. It meant seeing Chaeyoung and her husband, as well as her family over and over again, even when it came to things that weren't about her.
Your relationship was still not perfect – with you and Heeseung slowly working through your issues, things got easier. He managed to submit the paperwork for his vacation to start on Friday, and had some final things to settle at the Seoul Central District Court with a few attorneys involved in a case he and Jay were attempting to break into. He'd called you to meet him and Sunoo for lunch and a meeting to bring you on as an expert witness, as you had a short day in the office.
Short day in the office does not warrant a short day outside of it, though – and you found your husband crowded by reporters and flashing cameras as you tried to quietly make your way into the courthouse. You hoped they wouldn't see you – Heeseung had been pissed enough already when a few reporters dragged your name through the mud when Chaeyoung gave her side of the story, pictures of you that he loved now torn to shreds by internet trolls and what little social media you did have had been flooded with hateful comments. You wound up deleting everything, and staying away from your phone as much as possible. Heeseung arranged private security, and even had Sunghoon assigned to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity around you. 
Nothing had happened, and you were sure nothing would – but you couldn't lie, you felt safer when you and Heeseung were behind the locked doors of your home, hidden away in your bedroom.
You could hear the reporters shouting questions at Heeseung, the tick in his jaw evident as he answered one question at a time. You watch from afar a bit, your facemask protecting you from being discovered as you inch closer. You can see his patience begin to thin and you're about to barrel down the steps to him when you hear a reporter shout over all the others.
"Lieutenant, your wife has been dragged by the media in all forms. What are your thoughts on that, considering that Jeon Chaeyoung was once your life-long friend?" Heeseung's face hardens, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as he speaks.
"I have nothing to say on Mrs. Jeon, I cannot understand why she'd speak about Dr. Lee that way. Please write that down, put that into the world. She's not just my wife, she's her own person and she had a huge role in this case. I would have lost my mind if it weren't for her, and her impact should not be reduced simply because we're married." You feel your chest fill with warmth as you take a few more steps down, a reporter spotting you and you press a finger to your facemask, your wedding ring making her eyes widen. She says nothing as you listen to Heeseung speak.
"Dr. Lee was a pertinent witness to the entire case, and had she not been involved, had she not said something, Mrs. Jeon's case would've remained open and no one would know of her whereabouts. Her family had been in absolute shambles for the last nine years, and frankly, as harsh as it sounds, I'm glad that it's finally over. Dr. Lee is not to blame for whatever upset feelings Mrs. Jeon may have, or whatever resentment she may have towards myself. If she wants to drag anyone through the dirt, she might as well drag me. Dr. Lee is entirely innocent in this, she was a huge stepping stone in bridging crucial pieces of information together and restoring the Cha family. In other words, keep my wife's name out of your mouth unless you're praising her. I'm tired of hearing this, so I have nothing more to say on the matter."
Your eyes are wide as he shrugs, before the reporter who spotted you makes a few moves up the steps, trying not to alert anyone else. You tilt your head at her, and she quietly steps up to you. She holds her recorder up slightly, and you nod, beckoning her closer with your hand.
"Dr. Lee, how do you feel about Lieutenant Lee coming to your defense amongst the influx of hate from netizens?" You lean down to her to speak into the small microphone, clearing your throat. "I think Lieutenant Lee is one of the most kind-hearted, driven, loving people in my life. There's a reason he's my husband, you know. I couldn't ask for a better man." The reporter's eyes soften as Heeseung turns around, bidding the reporters a goodbye as he buttons his coat up, trekking back up the stairs. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours as you give him a little wave. He walks up to you, giving the reporter a curt nod before slipping his fingers in yours. 
The reporter gives you a soft thank you, before walking down the steps. You let Heeseung guide you up the steps, and glance over your shoulder to see reporters taking photos of the two of you from behind. You nudge him with your elbow, and he looks down at you. "Yes?" "Kiss me." You tilt your head towards the reporters, and he snorts as the two of you reach the doors. "You sure?" "Positive." You nod as you pull your mask off, the camera flashes almost blinding as they watch you press your lips to Heeseung's, his arm wrapping around your waist as his hand cradles your cheek. Your lipstick stains his mouth as you pull away, and you give the reporters a cheeky thumbs up as he pulls you into the courthouse.
Sunoo's eyes are wide as you walk into his quarters with Heeseung, your lipstick now also stamped on his cheek from a kiss you gave him in the hallway. He smiles warmly as you offer a hug, embracing you tightly. "God, it's so nice to see you in love." He murmurs into your hair, patting your back before you all take a seat at his desk. The three of you are going over the options for lunch when you hear a knock at the door, your head whipping around to see your mother entering the office. Your eyes widen, and Heeseung is up before you know it. He's greeting her warmly, her face remaining stoic as he takes her coat. She looks tired, and you stand on shaky legs.
"Hello, Mother." You say softly, your eyes flickering to Heeseung and Sunoo as they stand to the side. She steps in front of you, her eyes scanning you carefully. You wince as she steps slightly closer, only for her to breathe out softly.
"I wanted to speak to you earlier this week, amidst everything in the media. However, I'm too prolific and I worried I'd be followed to your home, so I left a few messages on your answering machine. I assume you didn't receive them, so is now a good time?" She's still professional, your mother had no idea how to be comforting or warm. You nod slowly, shoving your trembling hands into your coat. "S-Sure. Yeah, we can talk." Your mother had never cared who was around when she spoke to you about anything. It was one of the more mortifying things about her, but she made up for it by keeping her voice quiet enough that only you could hear her.
"May I touch you?" She asks with a twinge in her voice you'd never heard, and you nod slowly. "Okay." She doesn't wait for another second, throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a tight embrace. Your eyes are wide as you look at Heeseung and Sunoo, their own the size of saucers as you awkwardly wrap your arms around her. "Are you…alright?" "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I read everything that you said in your interviews, about Chaeyoung and her reasons behind leaving, and how deeply you understood her dilemma. I never realized I was pushing you away, and I'm incredibly sorry if I ever made you feel like I wasn't supportive of your dreams or career choices. I know that this may be a too little, too late sort of situation, but I couldn't let more time go by without letting you know how proud I am of you and everything you've accomplished, not just as a professional but as a woman, as my daughter, as a wife."
Your eyes are stinging with tears as Heeseung's jaw drops, your mother pulling back to cup your face in her hands. "And I'll sue that little bitch for all she has for dragging you through the mud. I'll do it, I'll wring her dry of every asset she's ever acquired."
Her eyes are full of tears as you gape at her, before she presses a kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much, darling. I'm so, so sorry."
"Mom-" "I'm so glad to have you, darling. Please don't disappear on me, I promise you I cannot handle it." You let her pull you back into her embrace, the tears streaming down your cheeks before she pulls away quickly. "Alright, I've got a meeting I'm running late to. I just saw you in the window and I needed to pop in and talk to you. As you were, I'll give you a call later." She gives the three of you a curt nod, before taking her coat and skirting back out of Sunoo's office.
The three of you are silent, your arms wrapped around yourself as you cover your mouth with your hand. You don't wipe your tears as they stream down, and you look up at the men staring at you in shock. "She said she's proud of me." You whine suddenly, and Heeseung lets out a soft laugh as you walk into his embrace, Sunoo smiling to himself as Heeseung strokes your hair, sharing a glance with his long-time friend as you sob into his shirt. "Oh, my baby. You deserve all that and more."
"Should we push the meeting? I think we've got a lot of big feelings to work out, Dr. Lee." Sunoo speaks up gently, and you pout as Heeseung agrees before you can say anything. You mumble out an apology, but Sunoo shakes his head, waving you off. "Let me lead you out the backway, those reporters would have a ball with your crying face."
"Shut up, Sunoo." You scoff, making him snicker as he leads you both out of his office, your head bowed as you let Heeseung hide you from onlookers. You both quietly thanked Sunoo as he opened the door for you and bid you farewell, saying he'd try and get everything done before Heeseung's allotted vacation time. They agreed to meet again on Thursday, with Sunoo giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.
"Give yourself some more credit, Y/N. You deserve it."
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Saturday, 4:44pm.
"You found it? You look so beautiful, holy shit." Heeseung was laid on the bed, held up by his elbows as you stood in front of the mirror, a quizzical look on your face as you clipped in your earrings. You purse your lips, turning to face him, the sarong skirt of the dress he'd made you swinging slightly.
"You sure? It's not too…showy?" You pout, running your hands over the soft white fabric. You'd dug this dress back out specifically for this occasion, renewing your vows with your husband on a simple vacation in the middle of nowhere. By middle of nowhere, you mean the same field he proposed to you in, two hours out of Seoul and likely full of flowers this time of year.
"Baby, it's just you and me. You can be as showy as you want in your dress, as bummy as you want in your sweatpants. You're fucking angelic." He pulls you to him by your hips, "I did great on this hem, you can't lie." "Wonderful, yes." You roll your eyes, feeling his hands snake under the skirt. You allow it, feeling your cheeks warm as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your hip. "Let me go down on you." You sigh, rubbing your temples as your husband presses a kiss to your cleavage. "Heeseung, the sun is going to set and we're going to be doing this in the dark." "Can I go down on you after?" He questions, not really paying attention as he stands, his hands low on your back as he pulls you to him. "Heeseung." "Two orgasms, right after we're done, on the hood of my car." He offers, making you snort. "One orgasm, after we're done, in the backseat." "I'll take it!" He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, making you giggle as he lands a soft smack to your ass. "Stop it!" "You love me! Now get your cute ass in the car, we've got shit to do."
And it feels easy. It feels light, sitting next to Heeseung as he pulls out of the driveway with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding your fingers tightly. It feels good, listening to your husband sing along softly to soft jazz songs on the radio before you plug in your phone, and then hearing him sing along to your playlists. It feels like getting a breath of fresh air when you see the afternoon sunlight beaming on his skin, his white shirt reflecting the light painfully into your eyes. It feels like the way your heart starts beating a little faster when you catch a whiff of his spicy cologne, your eyes falling on him with a soft smile. It feels like an emotional orgasm when he times playing No Song Without You by HONNE perfectly to when you arrive, your pout being kissed off frantically by your attentive, doting husband. It feels like falling in love when he holds you close, pressing his lips anywhere you'd allow him to as you both reach into your pockets for the thick packets of words you've written. It feels like falling in love when he goes off script, holding the papers in his hand as he looks into your eyes. It feels like falling in love when he kisses your tears off your face as you tell him how much you appreciate his changes, it feels like falling in love when he says you should never thank him for doing what's right. It feels like falling in love, when he pulls a box out of his pocket and presents yet another gold ring to add to your set, with your initials engraved on the outside.
It feels like falling in love with he suggests you both pick flowers from the field to press when you get home. It feels like falling in love when he holds your hand and pulls you close when you've wandered too far, it feels like falling in love when he's kissing you against the hood of his car. It feels like falling in love when he carries you into the backseat and you wind up naked in his lap, a whining and writhing mess as he tells you how pretty you are, how much he loves you, how bad he wants to get you pregnant so everyone knows you're his. It feels like falling in love, when on the ride home, he can't keep his hands off you.
It feels like falling in love, when he wastes no time getting you in the bedroom, your dress on the floor with his shirt and pants. It feels like falling in love when he draws a bath for the two of you, it feels like falling in love when he tells you I love you as he washes your hair, your body, your face.
It feels like falling in love again, but this time? You don't feel like you're falling alone.
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clockwayswrites · 5 months ago
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One birdritch, two stones.
part idk, 10? I'm so tired. masterpost
“Mr. Drake-Wayne, do I want to know why you’re here?” Lucius drawled without looking up from his desk.
Tim plastered on a smile anyways. “Well, in an effort to learn the business as part of my internship, I thought that it was about time that I took a proper look at R&D.”
“Yes, it would be good for you to see R&D,” Lucius said as he signed something with a flourish before he folded his hands and looked up at Tim, “but you are not going to.”
“No?”
“No.”
Tim let the door close behind him and came to flop into the seat across from Lucius. “Uncle Fox—”
“That worked much better when you were small and doe-eyed.”
“Okay, let’s be honest,” Tim said with a sigh, “I’m still small and doe-eyed. None of them will let me live that fact down. I have to use what I have, Lu.”
Finally Lucius cracked a little bit of a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a discrete button on his desk. Tim knew that the button would make the office soundproof, an effect that Tim felt in the back of his ears.
“Danny Fenton— and let me be clear, it is Danny, not Daniel— Danny Fenton is one of the best people I have in R&D. I will not have you all losing me one of my best because you lot do not know how how to be subtle.”
“Lucius, we can be subtle!” Tim said, honestly offended. “We do subtle all the time. You know how well I do undercover.”
“Exactly,” Lucius said severely.
Tim tilted his head.
“Undercover you is subtle. Tim Drake-Wayne you is a menace,” Lucius said. “That last name is a pox upon common sense.”
Tim opened his mouth to argue before he slowly closed it and slumped back into his seat.
“I had been considering bringing him as the engineer for the other side of you all,” Lucius said, almost idly, “but whatever happened spooked him. He booked the end of the week off. Mr. Fenton never takes time off. Whatever you are after it will wait until after he returns, understand?”
“Understood,” Tim said with resignation.
-
The only reason that Danny didn’t screech and drop the component he was holding was because he was used to ghosts. The person who had appeared sitting on top of Danny’s cabinet like they had always been there wasn’t a ghost, but the behavior was close enough. Danny took a steadying breath and set the part carefully on one of his work benches.
“Hello.”
The off person smiled cheerfully and brought their right hand up into an almost salute.
Danny tilted his head for a moment before he brain kicked in and he repeated the motion back before pointing to the person then tapping his index to his chin and then next to his ear while purposefully screwing his face up into confusion.
They shook their head and brought their hand to their throat, turning it like they were locking a key, before making a so-so motion with their hand.
“Oh! Okay, I’m Danny,” he explained as he pointed to himself and brought his right hand in the sign for d up along his flat left hand.
They repeated Danny’s name sign with a cheerful smile before they pointed to themselves and moved the cupped hand of C over their flat left hand. They repeated the point before finger spelling out ‘Cass’.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Cass. I’m rusty at ASL, but if you can go slow for me, I’ll try my best.”
“Thank you,” Cass signed with a bright smile.
“Are you lost, or do you mean to be up there?” Danny asked.
Cass shook their head. “Comfortable. What is that?”
“Oh, what I’m working on. Well… nothing yet, not if it doesn’t work. It’s supposed to be something for improved water filtration though.”
“Explain?”
“Sure. Tap twice on the cabinet if you need my attention or have a question and I’m not looking your way, okay?” Danny asked. He waited for a nod before he grabbed what he was working on and started explaining the idea.
Thankfully the fact that WE was working on a way to further reduce industrial water pollution was no secret so as long as Danny didn’t get particularity technical, he shouldn’t get in trouble with with his NDA. Besides, whoever this was was inside a secure part of WE and did have a badge, even if it wasn’t colors that Danny recognized off the top of his head.
Cass was oddly fun to chat with and the two of them got into a rhythm of him explaining something and following it up with a question of his own. Cass did give verbal responses or reactions occasionally, but mostly Danny settled into a position where he could both work and watch them sign in his periphery at the same time. He wasn’t perfect at understanding what Cass was talking about, but they seemed happy enough to repeat things for him or finger spell when he was really lost.
“A lead role? You should be really proud of yourself, Cass! That’s amazing,” Danny said with a bright smile as he fought a stubborn tapper.
“You will come?”
Danny blinked. “Sorry, what?”
“The recital,” Cass finger spelled out before repeated, “You will come?”
“I don’t know, Cass honey,” Danny said, the endearment slipping out without him thinking about it. “That would really depend on what your adults have to say about the idea. I don’t want them to freak out because you’ve decided to befriend a random R&D flunky.”
“Luckily Cass is a very good judge of character,” said someone from behind Danny.
Fucking hell, what was it with people just appearing today? Danny gave himself a second to close his eyes before he set down his tapper and turned around.
Ancients that’s Bruce Wayne.
“I hope she hasn’t been bothering you. Cass was supposed to wait in my office while I dealt with the emergency,” Mr. Wayne said with a pointed look at his daughter. “Even if it did take longer than expected.”
Right daughter, because Danny had been talking with Cassandra Wayne for the last few hours.
“Oh, no, not at all Mr. Wayne—”
“Bruce.”
“Bruce. And don’t worry, she’s great company,” Danny said.
Mr. Wayne— Bruce chuckled and stepped into Danny’s office. He’d hardly moved before Cass was flinging herself off the cabinet and into her dad’s arms. As soon as she was set down, she started signing rapidly at him and Danny looked away to give them some privacy.
“Well, that is up to your new friend,” Bruce said in that sort of tone that Danny knew he was being included in the conversation now.
“Danny Fenton, but just Danny is fine,” he said.
Cass signed Danny’s name sign.
“Or that,” Danny agreed with a nod.
“Well, Danny,” Bruce said with a smile that made his eyes crinkle a little, “if you’d like, Cass would love to have you at the opening so you can see what she’s been telling you about, but if you’re busy we’d understand.”
Cass’ pout said otherwise and Danny caved quicker than a paper cocktail umbrella in a tornado. “If you can send me the date and where to buy a ticket, I’ll be there.”
“Nonsense, the ticket is on me,” Bruce said. “I’ll be sure to send you the date and time, I doubt Cass will let me forget.”
“No,” Cass signed with an overly angelic smile.
Danny chuckled and couldn’t help but wonder if all of Bruce’s children had him so thoroughly wrapped around their finger like that, or if Cass had only daughter privileges. “Well, I look forward to it. And it was very nice to get to meet you, Cass.”
“Yes! Goodbye, Danny,” Cass signed.
“Goodbye, Cass,” Danny signed back and returned the little nod Bruce sent him before they left Danny’s office.
Danny waited until they were out of sight to let out a breath. Ancients, well, that was something. Who would have thought that the first time he actually spoke to the owner of the company would be because his daughter decided water filtration was interesting an that Danny needed to learn all about ‘Swan Lake’ in return?
-
“Cass, darling,” Bruce said with a pointed look at his too smug daughter.
“He’s nice,” she explained with a shrug.
Bruce just sighed and shook his head. At least that did seem true. Bruce had watched some of the exchange between Danny and Cass and he was patient, respectful, and attentive even despite the occasional communication issue.
But that hardly answered any of what was going on.
“Just don’t overwhelm him, alright?”
Cass nodded and crossed her heart.
Bruce didn’t believe her for a moment.
---
AN: I did my best to describe the signs right/use the right ones but my knowledge is only very, very basic conversational skills so if I have anything wrong, please let me know! (I write Cass very to the point response wise when she verbally speaks, so kept that same sort of cadence here.)
Oh, since someone asked Danny is just slightly older than he would be it canon time continued normally, so late 30's. Bruce is early 40's.
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buck-star · 6 months ago
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Mission — Heat | Steve Rogers
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// Pairing // Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Female!Reader
// Summary // Your best friend and you are on a mission but when he finds out about your heat he doesn’t let you do the mission — but one night in one bed is still enough to confess the real feelings.
// Wordcount // 6.714 Words
// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, best friends to lovers, alpha/beta/omega, Alpha!Steve, Omega!Reader, Heat, true mates, smut, fingering (fem!receiving), teasing, lots of kisses, masturbation (male!receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, squirting, little bit of degradation and begging, dirty talk, praises, fluff
// Request // Hi sweetie and happy 2K, you deserve them!! So I noticed you're doing that fun activist with prompts. I was thinking maybe: true mates who are childhood best friends? (A/B/O) It could be Steve Rogers ( I just imagine him a lot like an alpha😭) ? smut and a bit of fluff? Maybe they were supposed to go in a mission but she's starting her heat ( I think it's written like this?) so she stays behind and he offers to stay with her? they end up sleeping together and him taking care of her? ❤️ Sending you so much love!! @rogersbarber
// Authors Note // Hey, thank you for the request and for the nice words. It wasn’t supposed to be such a long oneshot but it turned out longer than expected. Hope you like it. Biggest thank you goes to my girl @bucks-babe for proofreading for me. You’re amazing and make my work so much better.
// Events // MCU Kink Bingo | O1 | Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics: true mates | @mcukinkbingo || Fandom-Free Bingo: Pride Edition | Row Three-Two | Friends to lovers | @fandom-free-bingo || FluffySteveFest | July 1: Affection | Kisses, Aftercare | @fluffystevefest
// Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist | 2000 Follower Celebration //
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Being on a mission with your best friend was always your favorite kind of mission so you thought it would be like that this time too. Even though you got your heat just before you were getting ready for the mission — but your best friend knows it, he is used to it.
Steve Rogers, unmated Alpha and your best friend since childhood, the two of you grew up together, he always defended you in school, in front of other Alphas and he still does it when he notices that you don’t do it for yourself.
Even though he defends you sometimes still, he loves your attitude, your confidence and with every year the two of you grew older, things changed between the two of you — inside of him. He wouldn’t tell you, at least not yet. Steve loves the friendship the two of you have and he doesn't want to ruin it with his alpha instincts during your heats.
So little does he know that you went on the mission with him while getting into your heat. You smelled different but he was too focused on studying the file to care about your changing scent, maybe it was just another perfume you use?
“Have you read them? Sounds like they are in the hall and we ha—“ Steve says, sitting in a chair opposite you. The room has next to two chairs and a small table also a double bed — you already tested with a jump on it.
You’re currently in a hotel, waiting for the time you have the ‘meeting’ with the weapon dealer. Steve’s arms resting on his thick thighs and you looked at him up and down, while he was focused on the file. But now his blue eyes are piercing into yours, he tilts his head to the side and clears his throat.
“What are you doing there?” He asks, looking at your small construction on the bed. His shirts are placed around you on the mattress, you’re sitting with your back against the headboard and you’re focused on replacing a few of his shirts to make it more comfortable, while you listen to your best friend.
“N—Nothing, just wanted to see what you brought with you,” you say, smiling softly. Steve nods, not really believing what you try to convince him of.
“And you’re doing this by placing all my shirts around you?” His voice is soft but you can still hear a more dominant tone. You whimper quietly, trying to push all your thoughts away, you can’t let the omega inside of you get the control just yet. Not on a mission, not when you’re supposed to sleep in a bed with Steve.
“Yes? That’s a problem?” You ask, trying to sound as sweet as you can. Steve inhales deeply, and then it clicks in his mind, your scent isn’t different because of another perfume — oke at least not only because of that — it’s because you’re in heat and don’t want him to know it.
“Omega,” he growls, earring a whimper from you, knowing that he is right. “Fuck— why didn’t you tell me? Even using another perfume so I won’t smell it immediately? You can’t come on a mission with me, when— Oh fuck!”
“Language, Steve! Don’t use those words and I can! See, I'm here with you, on a mission,” you say, trying to play cool, while he gets up from the chair and paces through the room. Steve runs his hands through his hair, he loves you, he cares about you and that’s why you shouldn’t go on a mission during your heat — and especially not be in the same room — the same bed as the Alpha.
“I’m sorry, princess. But we will call Tony and get you home and I will do the mission alone or with another agent,” Steve says, frustration grows inside of him when he realizes that it’s evening and that you will have to stay the night in the same bed he does. “Or we let Sam and Bucky do that.”
“Stevie, I can do the mission with you, don’t make a big deal out of it please. It’s just my heat, oke?” You try, earning a glare that causes you to flinch and shut your mouth immediately.
“Not a big deal, huh? Do you know that most of the people we are going to meet there are Alphas? They will smell you, and when we do a mistake they will fucking get you and who knows what they are going to do then. With you — sweet Omega, they deal with weapons. Do you think they don’t have their omegas on a leash like a little pet?”
You sigh, maybe Steve is wrong but you two are a good team so they won’t get you and have you as their own personal toy, will they?
“Gonna call Tony now,” he huffs, reaching for his phone before he taps on it a few times before Tony picks up the call. You don’t really listen to the conversation, too frustrated that Steve doesn’t want to do the mission with you.
You grasp one after the other shirts of his, throwing it away. When you can’t go on a mission to him, you don’t want to be close to him. And as much as you crave your little nest with his shirts, you’re too mad to care about you. Luckily, your heat just started so you don’t have too bad cramps and when you get some you can still help yourself, you don’t need Steve or his stupid shirts — really good smelling shirts.
“What are you doing there, princess? First you build your nest with my shirts and now you throw them away, can you at least put them back into the bag?” Steve asks after hanging up and looking at you.
It only needs one look at you and he knows that you’re frustrated, that you’re going to be bratty because you’re always like that when Steve denies you. Sometimes you hate him, he is your best friend and you love him but those moments let you think if it could be a love-hate thing or something. Even though you know he is your true mate but since you’re both best friends you never wanted to risk your friendship for that, especially not because you never felt like you need a relationship just yet.
“Pick them up, ‘mega,” he growls, walking closer to the bed where you’re still sitting. You shake your head, pulling your legs against your chest and causing him to sigh. “That’s childish, you threw my clothes on the ground, now pick them up and bit them back into my bag.”
“Make me, Alpha,” you smirk when his eyes darken. Steve being feral is something you like to see, especially when his Alpha is more present, you have never seen his real Alpha side but the bits he lets slip are something you could get used to.
“Not gonna repeat myself. You’re playing with fire. Coming here in your heat, wanting to sleep in a bed with me—“
“You can sleep on the floor if you prefer that,” you shrug. Steve’s suddenly really close to you, his hand snapping forward and grasping your chin harshly. He tilts your head back, causing you to whine slightly.
“I wasn’t finished. You come here with me for the mission, you are going to sleep in a bed with me — wouldn’t I be used to it by now I would have fucked you into the mattress already and claimed you,” he groans, the thought making his dick twitch in his tight pants and he feels his boxer briefs soaking by his pre-cum.
“Calm down, you called Tony so it’s fine now? But I wouldn’t mind you claiming me, could try it, see if I would be such a sweet little omega and lie there for you,” you say, giggling softly while Steve’s features harden and his jaw clenches.
He doesn’t say anything, just letting go of your jaw and inhaling deeply. Steve turns away from you, making his way to the room into the bathroom. When the door closes a small pout forms on your lips, you never thought being close to someone would affect you like that but your best friend's short touch felt just so good. His warmth and the soft tingle he causes on your skin, you’re craving more but maybe it’s just because of your heat and nothing more.
For a moment you think about sneaking out of the room, getting some food or just for a walk. Or maybe you check out the location for the deal the next day and you will get up early to be there and help Sam and Bucky?
You decide against it, knowing that a whole lot of Alphas would smell you and no matter how confident you are, you don’t want one of them to jump on you. So you’re leaning back, your back resting against the headboard of the bed. You grasp your book, but since you destroyed your nest you feel uncomfortable.
Meanwhile Steve couldn’t stand it any longer, he needed to get out of the situation otherwise he didn’t know if he could have controlled himself any longer to not just ruin you for every other Alpha.
Your smell is so intoxicating, surrounding him like air. He had seen you in your heat so often but something changed, inside of him and between the two of you.
The warm water runs down his body, relaxing his tensed muscles but his cock is still rock-hard and there is only his hand as solution. Steve brings one of his hands to his shaft, immediately groaning quietly when he wraps his fingers around his thickness.
How would it feel if those fingers would be yours? Would your small hand actually fit around his length?
For a moment he tries to bring his thoughts to one of the porns he is watching when he jerks off but his mind doesn’t want to do it like Steve wants and he always has the picture of you in front of his eyes.
Steve slowly moves his hand up and down his shaft, the tip is red and leaking. He runs his thumb over the slit, groaning about the sensation. His hips jerk forward, meeting the movements of his hand. Steve throws his head back, fucking his fist hard and fast while he tries to muffle his groans as much as possible while biting his lip.
He wants — he needs to feel your fingers around his shaft. Or your mouth, your pussy. So warm and tight and all wet for him. Steve knows that he would stretch you like no one did before because you haven’t had many Alphas yet and Steve’s cock is thick and long.
Steve’s eyes immediately open and widen when he hears a soft knock at the door. He lets go of his cock before he mumbles a soft “come in”. You have seen him under the shower often, so it’s nothing new but he never had a hard on or at least just jerked off while thinking about you.
You open the door, walking into the room. You’re not looking at him, you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable, but you just don’t feel like being alone right now. Since you’re kids you’re used to sit in the bathroom with one another — when you were kids you also had a bath together — and just talk or be in silence.
“What’s up, princess?” Steve asks, turning around when you take a seat on the floor. You sigh softly, playing with your fingers in your lap, while Steve starts to wash himself.
“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come to the mission with you during my heat but I thought it wouldn’t be that bad, you know? And I’m sorry for throwing your clothes away, I just got mad when you said that,” you admit, looking around while you listen to the water of the shower.
“It’s oke, princess. I don’t blame you, but I don’t want you to be in danger and you know it’s easier to smell you when you’re in heat. Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve says, rubbing the shampoo into his hair before he continues to clean his body while he talks to you, making you laugh over and over again.
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After the shower Steve asked you to look for some movies while he gets dressed, he used the moment to give his hard cock some relief. You immediately agreed and made your way back into the bedroom. Then you looked for a movie and built your nest with his shirts again.
Steve got a few snacks and drinks for the two of you and now you’re cuddled up into his side, his hand caressing your back softly while you watch the movie. It’s almost finished and you can’t wait to get some sleep, the cramps in your stomach getting worse but you try to ignore that and hide it from Steve.
Your best friend feels your tensing, his hand snaking around your waist to your lower stomach and he draws small circles on it, cashing you to sigh softly. The cramps aren’t completely gone but it’s definitely feeling really good when Steve caresses your skin as softly as he does right now.
When the movie ends you’re settling properly in bed, your back turned toward Steve and your knees close to your chest to try to get rid of the cramps. Steve feels your tension and he would love to help you but he won’t pressure you so he just tried to get some sleep himself.
After a few hours where you just tossed and turned around, Steve is still awake, knowing that you’re asleep. Your whimpers are louder as before and your scent is surrounding him, his mind goes dizzy and he can’t focus on anything else than you.
As hard as he tries to push the alpha inside of him to the side he can’t stop it anymore, needs you — needs to comfort you and needs to be inside you to give himself some relief too.
He slowly rolls to the side, you’re curled up into a little ball next to him, whimpering and tears fall down your cheeks but you’re still asleep. Steve reaches his hand out to slide over your arm, causing you to shiver lightly, his fingers brush over the soft skin of your arm to your shoulder. He puts some pressure on you, causing you to turn on your back while he guides his fingers over your breast.
A needy whine leaves your lips and you wake up slowly, noticing the soft touches. Steve smirks when you open your eyes and look at him with your sleepy expression. You look just so adorable and he can’t get his eyes off of you.
“W—What are you doing, Stevie?” You ask, his touch is still soft but intimate already. It’s not like it bothers you but you wonder what happens because he had himself always under control.
A low groan leaves his lips and his eyes are almost completely dark while he stares at you. His tongue poking out, wetting his lips. “Need to comfort you, ‘mega. Fucking need you, ‘m so hard for you and it will help you with your cramps, omega.”
His voice is rough and you shiver when you nod slightly. Steve’s fingers wrap around your breast, squeezing the soft flesh through your shirt before he pinches your nipple slightly. He causes moans to escape your mouth, groaning when he does that, his cock twitching in his pants and he can’t wait to bury his cock in his home — your tight, wet pussy.
Steve’s hand slides lower, over your stomach to the waistband of your panties. He doesn’t have much control anymore, he just needs you so bad. While his hand snakes over your body he sits up to get in between your legs.
“Spread those pretty legs for me, princess,” he mumbles, his big hand now caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh while he pushes them softly apart. He then gets in between them, his thick thighs touching yours and you can feel his tensed muscles, his soft curly hair on his thighs against your skin.
Your best friend towers over you, his veiny hands on your thighs while you look at him. Your eyes roaming over his body, from his handsome face over his broad chest to his highly defined abs before you reach the big bulge underneath his boxer briefs.
“Look so pretty, and you smell so good. Can’t sleep with your soft whimpers and this fucking scent of yours all around me,” the Alpha groans, moving a bit until his chest is on top of yours hand he thrusts his hips forward.
You can feel his hard dick and fat balls through the fabric, rubbing against your already wet pussy and causing you to moan louder.
“That’s what you need, don’t you, omega? Need a cock to fill you. Need my cock to fill you,” he says, voice low and you can’t help but shiver about the tone in his voice.
Steve used to talk to you with such a soft and sweet voice but right now there is nothing left of your sweet boyfriend, instead of him you have a big Alpha towering above you, ready to ruin you for every other man.
“Stevie, please,” you beg, not sure what you’re asking for — probably everything he is willing to give you. He grins at you, his one hand grasping your chin to make you look him deep into his beautiful eyes while he pushes his hips forward.
“What do you want, ‘mega?” He asks, knowing exactly what you need and want but he doesn't want to give it to you just yet. He wants you begging and whining for his cock.
“Need you, please. Alpha, need your cock, please, your knot, fill me with it,” you beg, blushing when those words leave your lips. You have never felt that vulnerable and embarrassed, never begged for an Alpha's cock — and never thought you would beg for your best friend's dick.
Steve smirks, letting go of you to lean back to finally take off his clothes. You follow his movements with your eyes when he gets up and stands next to the bed, leaving you all needy and desperate for him.
“S—“ you want to ask him why he doesn’t give you his cock even though you asked nicely but just when you want to ask, he grasps the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushes them down his legs.
Your mouth drops open when his hard cock springs free. His length is huge, a vein running along the underside of it, the tip read and leaking with pre-cum. His balls are just as huge as his cock and you wanna lick them, want him to stuff them into your mouth. Your pussy clenches at the sight, arousal flowing out of you, causing a wet spot in your panties.
“Stevie, it won’t fit, y—you’re soo big,” you say, pouting softly. He chuckles before he throws his shirt somewhere in the room to get on top of you again.
He plays with the hem of your shirt, pushing it slowly up to reveal your stomach, kissing and biting into your soft skin before he helps you out of it completely. A low groan slips past his lips when he admires your tits, his lips moving from your stomach to the swell of your left breast and he licks a strap over the soft flesh.
You arch your back, pussy pressing against his cock, while Steve sucks at your nipple, his teeth scratching softly over the skin while he twirls his tongue around it. He definitely knows what feels good, and you crave more of the pleasure and of him.
Steve’s hands move to your hips, pushing you down to stop you from grinding against him. You whine, trying to push against him but the alpha is way stronger than you and you end up wiggling underneath him until he raises his head and raises an eyebrow.
“Stop wiggling like a little slut, omega. Or I’m gonna treat you like one, so stay still and let me enjoy your sweetness before I’m going to ruin you,” he growls, bringing his lips back to your chest to continue sucking, biting and licking your soft skin.
Your best friend is already addicted to your soft chest, knowing that you’re going to ruin him for every other woman just as much as he is going to ruin you for every other man. Maybe he will ask you if he is allowed to claim you later or he will do it at another point, maybe making you beg for him to claim you. But he is at least sure that he is going to make you his, with your permission but he is sure you don’t want someone else when you can have your best friend as your Alpha. Just as much as he wants you to be your alpha, he wants to wear the mark of your bond on his skin as well, letting everyone know that he belongs to you.
“Steve, please. Need you so bad, don’t tease me, please,” you whine, pushing your chest up and press it against his face. He growls against you, sending vibrations through your body, while he pins your waist with his hands into the bed.
“Stop the whining or you won’t get my cock at all. Had to wait to get you so long, denying me all the time,” he says, biting into the swell of your breast to underline his words — his desperation.
He slowly moves his lips further down to your stomach, his fingers gliding to the waistband of your panties and he hooks them into it, tugging at it slightly before he lets it snap back against you.
Even though he doesn’t want you to whine and wiggle, he enjoys the soft whimpers and moans that escape your lips — needy and begging for him.
Steve wouldn’t have told you that his Alpha is craving you, he knew you wouldn’t like to ruin your friendship and he didn’t want to do it either. But now? Having you whining and whimpering next to him, during your heat. His anger that you didn’t tell him and tried to hide it from him combined with his Alpha instincts makes him go crazy and feral for you.
Your best friend sits up, sliding the thin frantic down to reveal your dripping pussy. He tried his best to remove your panties without destroying them but the smell of your arousal, your dripping pussy and your fucked out look already lets him forget about his actual plan.
You hear your panties being ripped into two pieces before he throws them somewhere into the room. You want to protest, telling him that they were one of your favorite pairs of panties but every thought disappears when the Alpha places one of his hands on your lower stomach, his thumb finding its way to your clit and he presses down against your sensitive spot.
“Good girl, such a sweet omega. Look at you, dripping for your Alpha,” he says, grinning at you when he moves his fingers lower, parting your soaked folds while he admires your glistening skin down there. “Yeah, so ready for me, look at you, all ready for my cock.”
You feel your cheeks heat up with his intense stare at your most intimate part. Steve brings his other hand to your wet entrance, pushing one of his digits against your tight hole before he circles his fingers around it. You’re moaning underneath his soft touches, trying to close your legs but his thick thighs hold them spread apart.
Steve’s cock is painfully hard, leaking down his shaft and he just wants to thrust into you but he wants to be at least a bit nice and prepare you first, will he? You’re dripping down your ass and onto the sheets already, so maybe he could just push inside of you and enjoy your walls gripping his cock?
“Princess?” He asks, waiting for you to nod your head. When you do, his expression softens and he removes his hands from your pussy and brings them back to your hips. “Do you want me to stretch you open on my fingers first or would you mind me just stretching you open on my cock? I will be careful, but I need you so bad, ‘mega.”
“Split me open with your cock, Alpha, please. Need your cock, Stevie,” you beg, feeling his thick tip against your pussy. Steve groans, he wasn’t prepared for you begging for his cock like that when he offers you to destroy your pussy.
“But you will tell me to stop when you can’t handle my cock. Just say red and I will stop. Yellow when you want me to slow down and green when I can continue, get it, omega?” He asks with his soft voice and you nod, this time it’s not enough of an answer for him and your best friend raises an eyebrow at you. You shiver lightly underneath him, his intense looks and his touches make your mind go dizzy and you can’t focus on anything but him and his cock.
“Y—Yes, Alpha,” you mumble, your fingers digging into the sheet and you buck your hips. Steve’s cock slides through your folds, causing both of you to moan.
With a soft smile he leans down, his lips touching yours for a soft kiss before he snakes one of his hands between your bodies to his cock. Steve looks deep into your eyes while he lines his cock up with your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, his red tip stretching you open and your jaw drops open when you feel how thick he really is.
“Color, omega?” Steve’s one hand is still holding your waist, pushing you into the mattress while he places his other next to you shoulder to hold himself up above you. His lips trailing all over your face, leaving soft kisses while he entered you inch by inch.
“Green! It’s so fucking green,” you moan, arching your back until Steve’s chest is pressed against yours.
He chuckles at you, actually he would tell you to not use that kind of words but your pussy is hugging his cock too well to think about something like that right now. Steve pushes forward until he is balls deep into you, stretching you out like no one else could.
You’re panting, hands gripping his back while you try to ground yourself. Steve doesn’t move, waiting for you to adjust before he’s going to ruin you completely. Your pussy is burning lightly, the stretch still the most pleasurable feeling you ever had and you want him to finally move, finally fuck you.
“St— Alpha, please. Move!” You whine, legs wrapping around his legs and you dig your feet into his thighs. But Steve doesn’t move, he smirks at your desperation, his cock seated perfectly warm and wet inside of your tightness while he feels your slick flowing down your ass and all over his balls.
“You’re so desperate, gimme a moment to enjoy the moment of your pussy before I’m gonna destroy it,” he growls, smirking at you before he presses his lips softly against yours. His tone is the complete opposite of his soft kisses and you whimper.
Steve’s cock is twitching inside of you, you’re sure that you can feel every vein of his length and it makes you want him more. Your best friend bites into your lower lip, causing you to whine before he pulls his cock out of you.
“You’re sure, omega?”
“Wasn’t ever more sure than that, Stevie!”
Those words are all he needs before he slams his cock into you. You almost scream about the sudden pain inside of you. His cock hitting your cervix and your eyes widen when you realize that he is really going to ruin your pussy with his huge cock. Steve thrusts his hips forward and backward, pushing into you with such force that you’re sure you’re going to hit the headboard of the bed when he wouldn’t hold you in place by your hips.
“S-Stevie, p-please,” you beg, not sure what you’re begging for because he fucks you so hard, that you can’t ask for more but you don’t want him to stop either.
Steve chuckles, his fingers brushing through your hair, his lips trailing along your jaw, while he speeds his thrusts up. His balls slapping against your ass, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, while you squeeze him tightly, sucking him deeper into your greedy pussy.
“Take it, fuck— take it, omega. Doing so well, fuck, feeling so good. Pussy is gripping my cock and not letting me move easily, princess,” Steve swears under his breath, his knot growing and his balls tightening while he thrusts hard into you.
He needs you to come for him so badly, he wants you to come on his cock twice — one time just one his cock and the second time together with him. Steve wants to feel your pussy clenching even more around him and needs your walls to grip him until he can barely move inside of you.
He smirks mischievously at you, groaning when you squeeze his cock. He then lowers his face to your neck, sucking at your soft skin, he wants to claim you, but he doesn’t want to do it without asking you and he isn’t sure if you could answer properly. Steve loves you, but claiming you would mean forever and he doesn’t want to ask you when you’re cock drunk and in a state you would probably agree with everything as long as he is keeping his cock inside of you.
So he only scratches his teeth over the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking until he leaves dark blue and purple bruises all over your neck. He never slows his pace down, as much as he wants to come already, he learned to hold it for a while.
“Touch yourself, ‘mega. Make yourself come on my cock, fuck— Your pussy feels perfect around me, made for my cock, princess,” Steve mumbles. He feels your hand sliding between your bodies to your core.
He definitely needs to make you touch yourself when he is just watching you. He is sure he would almost come in his pants from just watching when you touch yourself but right now his goal is another one — making you come before he allows himself to come and when you’re just laying underneath him, cock drunk and whimpering you can at least help him to make you come on his cock.
“Stevie, please, need you to come inside of me, need your cum, your knot, please,” you whimper, circling your clit. Your eyes fall shut when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Your pussy is squeezing Steve more and he needs all of his control to not come immediately.
“Come, princess. Soak my cock, come all over it,” he groans, speeding his thrusts up. It only needs a few more thrusts against your sweet spot before you come around his cock.
Your cock drops open, your fingers digging into his muscular back, while Steve doesn’t slow down his pace. His cock pulsing inside of you, your walls gripping him more and sucking him deeper, making it almost impossible for him to move.
Steve slides his fingers still through your hair, fucking you through your orgasm. “Look at you, doing so well for your Alpha. Squeezing my cock so well, a feeling so perfect when you come around it, and you’re looking so fucking beautiful when you come, princess.”
Your best friend's praises make you smile softly and you open your eyes, staring into his ocean blue ones, when he slows the pace of his thrusts down.
“Don’t stop, Alpha, p-please, need your cum,” you whimper, pouting. Steve shakes his head, still moving his cock inside of you, while he calms you down.
“Don’t worry, omega. I will give you whatever you ask for,” Steve tells you, kissing you softly before he picks up his pace again. His cock slamming into you, not caring that your pussy is all sensitive from your last orgasm. As long as you don’t tell him to stop he won’t stop fucking you — his sweet little omega.
“Feel that? Feel my knot growing for you? Giving you all my cum, fuck— Princess, you feel so good. Thought I would ruin you for every other Alpha but looks like you’re doing the same with me, Omega.”
You giggle softly before Steve slams his cock back into you again. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over again. Soft pain with much pleasure filling your body and you’re addicted to that feeling — addicted to your best friend and his cock.
“So cock drunk, aren’t you? Come, omega, give me another one, know you can do it, come all over my cock,” he growls into your ear, his breath hitching when you squeeze his cock once again.
You didn’t know you could come that fast after your first orgasm but you feel the pressure in your lower stomach growing once again. Your breath is heavy, your body just as sweaty as Steve’s and your legs start to shake.
“S—Stevie, I’m so close, please. Alpha, need your knot, so badly,” you utter, nails digging into his skin and you’re sure you leave marks on your back.
Your Alpha smirks at your request, but gives it gladly to you. He hasn’t planned to stop fucking you before he comes so your request is just the perfect addition to his needs.
Your walls are pulsing, his cock is twitching and you feel his knot growing inside of your pussy, stretching it even more. “Fuck, come, omega, now!”
Steve’s low voice, his demand and his cock hitting all the right spots brings you over the edge once again. You’re screaming his name, squirting all over him, when he comes inside of you with an animalistic groan. His cum painting your walls and it feels like he doesn’t stop to come at all. His knot holding his cock inside of you, Steve’s not able to pull his cock out — not that he wants to.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Feel that? Feel all my fucking cum? Just for you, princess, giving it all to you, my sweet omega,” he mumbles while you both catch your breath.
Tears fall down your cheeks and only his weight on top of you helps you to ground yourself. The feeling of your orgasm and his cock and cum so deep inside of you is just overwhelming and you can’t help but let the tears fall down your cheeks.
When Steve lifts his head to look at you his expulsion changes immediately into a worried one. His big hands slides to your cheek, wiping the tears away before he presses his lips down to remove the trails of them.
“Color, princess? Too rough? Too much? Aww princess, you were so good for me, you took my cock like a good girl, yeah, squirting all over me, was it too much?” Steve asks, not giving you a moment to answer while he praises you over and over again. You shake your head, whimpering when he moves softly, his cock shifting slightly inside of you as well.
“I— You weren't too rough, I loved it, Stevie. B—But, I-Iloveyou,” you say quietly, muffling your words when you press your face into the crook of your best friend's neck.
You didn’t think that Steve got what you said since you muffled your sounds and tried to speak as fast as possible but he understood it and smirks softly. His big hand is still caressing your cheek, while he swirls a strand of your hair around his thick fingers.
“I love you too, princess. But I understand when you don’t want me to claim you, or want to have another kind of relationship with me than friendship. I love you, as my best friend but also as my omega. But I won’t pressure you into something, princess,” he assures you, letting himself fall down on top of you, to let you feel more of his broad body.
You immediately wrap your arms tighter around his back, inhaling his scent. “Would you also— would you ever betray me when I’m not enough for you anymore? Maybe you will find a better Omega and love her more then?”
“Princess, stop that. Don’t think like that, you’re more than enough, so much love and affection inside of your big heart. Why should I ever want someone else when I can have you?” He asks, pushing you softly back while he looks into your eyes — and you see nothing but love in them, the truth, like a promise.
“Why are you always so fucki—“
“Omega!” Steve warns, raising an eyebrow when you giggle softly. You feel a tingle inside of your body and your pussy clenches when he talks to you like that. Steve growls, throwing his head back. “That’s what you like, huh?”
You nod your head, even though your pussy is answering for you too. “But you were swearing the whole time, Stevie,” you pout, giggling more when he pokes his fingers into your sides.
“That’s a difference, I just fucked you and wasn’t able to focus on something that wasn’t your pussy, princess,” he smirks, kissing you softly when you blush. “I love you, and I will protect you, let me make you mine next time. There is no one I could want when I have you.”
You nod, leaning up to chase his lips for a much needed kiss — no desperation, no roughness, just love and the promise you make to one another. “Oke, but only when I get a bubble bath now, with a lot of bubbles and you!”
He rolls his eyes playfully but agrees, kissing you softly before he turns the two of you around and gets up, his cock still inside of you, when he carries you into the bathroom to run you a warm bubble bath. He doesn’t care how late it is, that you should sleep, his princess needs a bubble bath with him? You get a bubble bath with him plus a massage and as many cuddles as you want.
“I love you too Stevie. And when you already pumped me full you could have asked to claim me already!”
“You were such a little cock drunk slut for me, princess. But I will make you mine before we go home tomorrow, we have all night to make you lose your mind on my cock,” he grins, kissing the top of your head when he slips his cock out of you and places you on the toilet to run a bath.
“I guess you’re the one who is going crazy with his cock in my pussy, Stevie. Or what were you thinking about when you jerked off earlier that day?”
You knew what he did in the shower, you have seen his hard cock for a brief moment but it was enough for you to see it being rock hard. And you’re not dumb, you know exactly when your best friend takes a shower because he needs one or because he has to need one. Steve blushes softly when you mention it, but then he smirks.
“Can’t help myself with such a sweet omega around me. My omega, princess,” Steve utters, picking you up from the toilet to place you in the warm water with a whole lot of bubbles before he gets into the bathtub behind you, pulling you close against him. Steve’s broad chest pressing against your back and you sight softly when you place your head against his shoulder and letting his big hands wander over your thighs and stomach, drawing small circles on your skin.
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ellecdc · 10 months ago
Note
Mother, i have another poly!moonwater request but its a little angsty and tbh its probs mostly Barty appreciation because i 100% believe he'd be the best support system.
So, it doesnt happen very often but Reggie and reader are fighting. Idk what about, maybe she put herself in unnecessary danger or hid a wound?? But Remus has to take Reggies side or maybe he refuses to get involved.
Anyway, as a result she runs to Barty (i imagine she's his James and hes her Sirius) because he's her safe space and is surprisingly soft and comforting. If its readers fault he would be gently upset with her but calmly talk it out with her however he's still on her side and would hide her away for a couple days and let the boys panic for a minute because thats his person aaaaaand he is a little insane.
Hope that all made sense, and then a happy ending or i will cry.
Love youuuuuuu 🫶
'happy ending or I will cry' say less, babes 🫡 Barty to the rescue
poly!moonwater x fem!reader who's best friends with Barty
CW: mentions of fainting, angst, hurt/comfort, mention of blowjobs, Barty wishing people dead (what's new?)
Remus, throughout his life, has not been a stranger to conflict. His father spent Remus’ earliest years in constant battle at the Ministry fighting against werewolf rights. That conflict turned into Remus’ own lifelong curse of lycanthropy as a form of revenge. Remus’ muggle mother and wizard father spent many years in conflict over how to best love and support their werewolf son. Remus and his father experienced a lot of conflict when Dumbledore invited Remus to attend Hogwarts despite his lycanthropy. Remus experienced a lot of conflict with pureblood supremacists at school. Remus experienced conflict with his own friends, namely Sirius, after an unfortunate ‘prank’ that nearly cost both Remus and another student their lives.
But one aspect of Remus’ life that had yet to be a source of conflict had been his relationship with you and Regulus.
It seems almost unfathomable that the three of you managed to intertwine your lives without so much as a clash, but it was true. Regulus brought a confident and assured energy to the relationship, you brought an empathetic and quiet energy, and Remus supposed he was perhaps the most easygoing of the three of you, and that was good for the group. 
It is because of this lack of conflict that Remus was very confused to walk into the private study room that the three of you had reserved to find you and Regulus in the middle of a very heated spat.
“And since when don’t you tell me these kinds of things?” Regulus barked angrily at you. Remus actually had to shake his head as if he were hallucinating; he could have easily mistaken Regulus for his brother who was far more hot headed.
“I didn’t know I had to keep you posted on every little thing that happens, Regulus; I was busy.” You spat back.
“Whoa, okay. What have I missed?” Remus asked cautiously, placing his book bag down slowly on the table as if the situation in front of him were a live wire.
“Your girlfriend” Regulus spat as if girlfriend was a dirty word, “fainted today. And I had to hear about it from Pandora!”
Remus ignored most of the things that came out of Regulus’ mouth at the sound of ‘fainted’.
“Dovey! What happened?” He asked, looking to you in horror.
“What happened is she’s been overworking, under-sleeping, under-eating, and she needs to learn to say no to people!”
You scoffed at that. “You mean learn to say no to McLaggen. Just say it Regulus, this about me tutoring the sod in Herbology.”
“This isn’t about some bloke, Y/N!”
“You fainted?” Remus interjected, looking you over as if he may see signs of a fall. He did suppose you looked slightly peaky, but you were clearly worked up over whatever was going on with Regulus.
“Only a little.” You mumbled; voice still taut with impatience though you lowered the derision in your voice when you spoke to him.
“Right. And tell me, how does one only faint a little?” Regulus sneered.
You met him head on, grunting “Knock it off, Regulus. I mean it.” 
Remus noticed a slight quiver in your lip, but you stood your ground. He couldn’t say he completely disagreed with Regulus, but he didn’t think shouting at you like this was particularly helpful.
“Dove, we’re only worried about you. It makes us nervous if you’re not taking care of yourself and we don’t know about it, if we at least knew-” He tried, but you scoffed again, but this time at Remus. 
“Of course you’d side with him. I don’t need the two of you looking after me!”
“Well apparently you do.” Regulus barked. You didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer.
“Can we just talk about this later, please?” You asked quietly, eyes turning towards the table.
“No, we’re talking about this now. Because Salazar only knows what I’ll be hearing from Pandora next!”
“Maybe I didn’t say anything because this is exactly how I knew you would act.” You glowered at him.
“Are you even supposed to be out of the infirmary yet? What were Madame Pomfrey’s instructions?” Regulus demanded.
“I’m not doing this right now. You’re acting-”
“What were the matron’s instructions?” He asked again, voice threateningly low.
“Stop it, Regulus, I'm ser-”
“When I ask a question, you answer me.” Regulus ordered; voice booming and full of authority. 
You paused in packing up your bag to look at Regulus, holding his gaze as if daring him to utter another word. The atmosphere went from the heat of battle to ice cold in a matter of seconds.
Remus took one last look at Regulus, knowing this would be it; this was how they would lose Regulus. He’d have to tell Sirius that his brother was dead, and it was just better if they all moved on. Cause of death? Oh, Y/N burnt him to ashes with nothing but a glare.
You dropped your bag back onto the table and took a step towards Regulus, dropping into a verydramatic curtsey, making sure Regulus watched.
“Yes, Master Regulus.” You sneered with contempt before returning to your full height, eyes still never leaving Regulus’. “I seem to have forgotten myself. I live to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”
And with that, you snatched your book bag and left the study room, slamming the door behind you. 
Remus was admittedly very surprised everyone survived this ordeal, though he took a moment to examine Regulus’ form.
“Well...” Remus started. “You’re not bleeding.”
Regulus let out a breath he’d been holding and sunk into his chair. “I don’t...I don’t understand. Was I wrong?”
Remus felt like this may have been a trick question. “Well, I don’t think you were right.”
Regulus looked over miserably at that, eyes begging Remus for comfort. Remus unfortunately couldn’t give it. 
“I’m sorry, love. You went too far.”
“I should go after her.” Regulus sighed, looking like he was thinking of getting up.
“Do you value your life?”
“Remus...”
“You need to let her cool off, Reg.”
“But-”
“I mean it, Regulus.” Remus said sternly, raising his eyebrows at the shorter boy. “You were too angry to see it but she was very upset – probably even more so if she’s already not feeling well.”
Regulus crossed his arms not unlike a petulant child being told they weren’t allowed to have a cookie before supper.
“Fine, but soon it won’t just be Y/N I have to convince to forgive me.”
Remus, completely unsympathetic to his boyfriend’s grumblings, smirked as he took out his homework. 
“Well, perhaps that’s what you get for acting like your father.”
Regulus let out a very inelegant groan and let his head fall onto the table with a thunk.
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Everyone had their person, for better or for worse. Sirius had James, Regulus had Pandora, Remus had Lily, and you...well, you had Barty.
And perhaps whatever Barty lacked in terms of critical thinking skills and sanity, he made up for in terms of loyalty and enthusiasm. 
You knocked on the door to Barty’s dorm from the hallway when you heard a muffled “occupado!” through the wood.
“Barty? It's me.” You called quietly, hearing the sound of a locking charm being lifted from the door immediately.
You pushed open the door to see Barty laying back against his pillow with a cigarette in his hand and Evan Rosier laying on top of him with a book as he read. 
“Hiya, treasure. Where’d ya leave Reggie?” Barty asked, blowing smoke away from Evan’s book.
“We got into a fight.” You admitted quietly. 
Suddenly, Barty’s cigarette was flicked towards the fireplace and Evan was, very roughly and unceremoniously, dumped from his lap.
“Ah! Fuckin’ hells Junior, what was that for?” Evan muttered as he rubbed the back of his head, standing from his newfound place on the floor.
“Out! I need time with my beloved!” Barty squawked, sitting up further against the headboard and opening his arms for you as an invitation.
“Wha- what do you mean? I’m your sodding boyfriend!” Evan beseeched. Barty spared the boy a glance at that.
“Exactly, you’re only my boyfriend, Y/N is my soulmate. Now out with you.” He dismissed, returning his eyes to you. 
You (somewhat meekly as you passed Evan) made your way over and crawled into Barty’s lap as Evan let himself out of the dorm room (his own dorm room, mind you).
“Alright, my sweet treasure, spill. What are his crimes?” He murmured into the top of your head.
“He yelled at me.” You said meekly, voice turning up at the end as you felt tears well in your eyes.
“Dementor’s kiss.” He proclaimed without hesitation. “Egregious, absolutely horrific crime.”
“Barty...” You moaned.
“What? I’m not kidding, I want him dead. Yelling at my sweet girl like that. For shame.”
You let out a sigh as the first few tears fell onto Barty’s shirt. You knew he was seriously hurt on your behalf for not saying anything about ruining his silk button up.
“What reason could he possibly have had to yell at you?” He murmured again into your hair, rocking you back and forth.
“I fainted... in class today.” You admitted with a grimace.
As you expected, Barty paused in his movements and lifted you up off of his body to examine you.
“Fainted!?” He hollered. “How, treasure?”
You groaned and leaned forward, wanting to hide your face in Barty’s chest again. Thankfully, he allowed you to do so.
“I don’t know...Madame Pomfrey said it could be a few things. Not enough sleep, not eating enough, stress.”
“And he yelled at you for that?”
“Well...sort of.”
Barty hummed in acknowledgement but allowed you to sit in silence as he rubbed circles onto your back.
“He was mad because he found out from Pandora.” You admitted. 
“Hmm, sounds like Regulus felt stupid. Not an easy task, sweets, Salazar knows I’ve tried.” Barty determined.
“How do you mean?” you asked into his chest.
“He just always seems to know the answers when I-”
“Not that, Barty!”
“He didn’t know you had fainted, and it sounds like he perhaps didn’t even realize you were unwell. He would have thought that made him look like a fool, which it does.” He explained, lacing the words at the end of his sentence with disdain.
“Barty...” you chided.
“I mean, come on treasure; you have two boyfriends, and one of them is a Slytherin! You’re telling me neither of them noticed their most perfect, sweetest angel was struggling? Foolish. You can’t blame Lupin, though, he is a Gryffindor after all; hanging with the likes of those oafs ought to cost him a couple brain cells each day. Hey, listen... you say the word and you and Lupin are more than welcome to shack up with me and Evan.”
“Barty!”
“I’m just saying!” He yielded, holding his hands up in surrender. His faux-serious façade fell away when he noticed the corner of your lips quirk into a smile.
“I’m sorry he yelled at you.” He offered.
You half sighed half groaned as you fell back into Barty’s chest.
“I guess he was just worried about me...” You relented.
“Yes. But don’t make it easy on him, okay? It’s fun to see the sod sweat every now and again.”
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“Regulus...I don’t know if this is a good idea. I really think we should let her come to us.” Remus muttered quietly from behind Regulus, but he wasn’t having any of it.
This had gone on too long, in Regulus’ opinion. You were hiding in Barty’s dorm room whilst Regulus stayed in Remus’, and while he loved Remus, he hated Gryffindor, and he missed you.
“Enough is enough, Remus. I want her back.” Regulus declared as he stepped up to his door and banged on the back of it none too gently.
“Junior!” He barked through the door. “I want my girlfriend back!” 
“No one’s home!” Barty called through the door. 
Regulus rolled his eyes so far back into his head even he was sure they were going to get stuck there.
He put his hand on the door handle and was hit immediately with a localized stinging jinx, causing him to rip his hand back off of it and hold it to his chest protectively. 
“Ow! Fuck Junior, what did you do!?” He called through the door. 
“Leave a message!”
“Oh, I’ll leave you a message alright.” Regulus spat.
“Dovey?” Remus tried calling gently through the door. “Can we come in? Please?”
It was quiet for a moment before Barty answered for you. “No.”
Remus shared an eyeroll of his own before cautiously touching the doorknob – apparently it had only been cursed against Regulus. 
“Okay, I’m opening the door.” Remus warned.
“I wouldn’t do that! I’m shagging your girl in here.” Barty called.
Regulus watched Remus’ face and knew two things to be true: that Remus was 97% sure that wasn’t true, and that Moony was very worried about that 3%. Ultimately, it appeared that Moony had won, causing Remus to barrel into the room rather ungraciously. 
Barty was sat in a chair with his feet kicked up on a desk and a book in his hand, which he lowered to examine the two intruders casually.
“That was very rude, you know. What would you have done if the lady had been indecent.” Barty scolded, using his book to point at your curled up form on Regulus’ bed, pointedly facing away from Remus and Regulus. 
Regulus felt his heart crack painfully at the sight, sharing a look with Remus who gave him an encouraging nod.
“Amour?” Regulus called gently, moving around the side of the bed in an attempt to see you. His heart cracked again when you hid your face in your arm.
“Please, my love. I’m...I’m so sorry.” He pleaded, kneeling down in front of you and cautiously stroking your arm. “I should never have spoken to you like that, I...I was wrong. And rude. And out of line. I’m sorry. Please? Please look at me, mon amour, laisse-moi arranger ça?” 
You turned your head up at that, and the final splinter that carved Regulus’ heart into two was the tear stains on your cheeks. 
“Oh, mon amour, je suis vraiment désolé. Je suis le pire, je suis vraiment désolé.” 
“Your fancy sweet talk won’t do you any good here, Black!” Barty hollered from his place across the room. “I’ve already told her that she and Lupin are more than welcome down here with me.” He added with a lascivious wink in Remus’ direction.
Regulus could see Remus’ cheeks pink at the compliment, but he also gulped at the threat.
“Say it ain’t so, mon amour.” He said to you, caressing your arm with one hand and delicately taking yours in his other, bringing it to his lips for a delicate kiss. “Is it finally happening, are you going to leave me for another? Surely you can do better than Junior, non?”
Regulus’ heart sped up almost double time as you offered him a watery smile. “No.”
“No? You can’t do better than Junior?” He teased.
You rolled your eyes as you sniffled and tried to wipe some of your tears away. “No, I’m not leaving you, you sod.”
“Oh, thank gods.” Regulus sighed dramatically, letting his head fall into the bed in front of him. He heard you chuckle above him, and you moved your hand into his hair, gently massaging his scalp.
“Oi! How come he gets head scratches for being a wanker and I get jilted?” Remus pouted from the middle of the room.
“Oh, come here lover boy.” Barty cooed at him, opening his arms and spreading his legs to make room from the lycanthrope.
Remus let out an awkward ‘erm’ from the middle of the room before you chuckled and invited Remus to join you for his own head scratches.
He opted to curl up behind you as the big spoon and wrap his arms protectively around your middle, adding his hand to Regulus’ shoulder as he still knelt on the floor at the head of the bed. Perhaps not the best angle for head scratches, but he was clearly very happy with his current predicament.
“Right then; have either of you tossers seen Rosier?” Barty asked as he stood from his chair.
“Common room.” Remus and Regulus answered in unison.
“Thanks.” He said as he made his way to the door. “Stay out of the bathroom for a while, yeah? I owe that sod so many blowjobs after all of this.” 
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mustangbby · 10 months ago
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WE NEED THE COMFORTT FOR THE BLIND READER FUN YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?????? (can’t do angst no comfort 😔)
-> blinded mistakes - happy ending
synopsis -> your husband feels bad for the way he snapped the other day. how does he make it up to you?
a/n -> approximately 28 people have asked for a part 2. this is insane i have so many people to tag (who aren't anons, obviously) BUT THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY OTHER ONE OMGGGGG!!!! i love u all sm
warnings -> crying, but that's kinda all lol. this ones mostly just fluff!
w/c -> 951
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-> kamisato ayato
it’s been a few days since the argument. 
ayato had been given an extension due to his circumstances, and didn’t have to worry about the ruined papers due to the kindness from the city's higher-ups who assigned him such papers in the first place. a lot of them were salvageable, too.
once he finished them, he leaned back, smiling from the stress relief. he got up, grabbed a cup of tea from the kitchen, and realized something.
you weren’t in the main room, waiting for him to leave his office so you two could spend some time together.
he then thought back about the events that took place. his chest immediately fills with regret at the words spoken to you. coincidentally, ayaka walked into the room.
“ayaka, have you seen y/n?” he hurried to his sister, who simply sighed.
“they’ve been in their room. they’ve been beating themselves up about the incident, so now they’re afriad of moving incase they bother you more,” she brushed past him. “good luck making amends. they’re incredibly hurt.”
he nodded, processing the information. he pacewalked to your shared bedroom, where he opened the door to see your sleeping form. 
he sat next to you, stroking your hair until you woke up. when you felt a hand on top of your head, you flinched a little bit.
“who’s there?” you said in a soft voice, unwilling to cause more issues by lashing out or showing aggression. 
“ayato,” he took his hand off your head. “i’ve come to say i’m sorry.”
you got up and found the headboard, slowly resting yourself up on it. “why all of the sudden? i hope you understand that you really hurt me, ayato. i’ve been too scared to get up these last few days because of the way you made me feel. the only times i’ve gotten up were to go to the restroom, bathe, and eat, but thoma would bring me something here. i still think about the words you said and your gestures.”
he looked down, sighing. he didn’t realize how much of an effect his words and actions had on you, but now that he’s hearing it from you, it seems like two more tons added to his shoulders. “don’t worry about it. it was salvageable, and you hadn’t ruined anything.”
“i wish you told me that when it happened, ayato,” you started to tear up. “i forgive you, but i don’t want to hear that again. it made me feel like shit.”
he nodded, hugging you tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. you felt around his body to realize he was wearing his white and blue suit, the one he usually goes out to fight in. 
“i’m not ruining this suit, right…?” you brought your face off his shoulder, but he immediately shoved it back in the same spot, silently telling you the obvious answer. 
he was glad he was able to resolve things. he couldn’t imagine a life without you.
-> wriothesley
it’s been about a week since wriothesley has seen you. he figured you went out of the fortress, staying over at a hotel or with a friend, like navia or chlorinde. he pretty much figured it would be chlorinde, considering she hasn’t come down to the fortress or has tried to initiate contact with him since the incident. 
he figured he’d try knocking on both doors, starting with navia. once navia told him everything he needed to know; that you were with chlorinde, he rushed over to her place.
“what are you doing here?” she scoffs as she opened the door, leaning against the doorframe. “your wife told me everything. i hope to trust that you didn’t embarrass her in front of the people who work for the palais mermonia, especially monsieur neuvillette himself.”
he shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “just let me see her, would you? i want to apologize.”
she nodded, clearing the doorway, allowing him to rush into the spare bedroom. 
you knew he was the one coming towards your room, considering his footsteps were a lot heavier than anyone you’ve ever known. his were tough, threatening. 
“wriothesley! w-what are you-” you started, your heart beating a little faster.
“i want to apologize for the things i said. i didn’t have to completely redo all my papers, and neuvillette understood the situation, and i was able to get an extent.”
you shook your head. “so you embarrassed me then, huh? you told them everything? that your stupid blind wife who is not even near good enough for you ruined your work?” 
he was speechless. he didn’t know how to respond to that sentence, so he put his hands on your shoulders, asking for silent permission to take you into a hug. once you nodded, he embraced you tightly. 
“no, i didn’t tell them that. i told him it was just a spill, and that i was able to save some of the papers. neuvillette is a very understanding man, and this never happens. i never need new copies or need extents, so he was willing to do it this time. nothing about you came up in our conversation,” he swallowed a lump in his throat before going on. “and you’re not stupid. you’re also the perfect choice for me, not good enough my ass. no matter what i have to do to make you see that, just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re unworthy.”
you started to cry, letting the tears spill into his chest, creating a damp spot on his tie. 
“so you don’t hate me then?” you sniffed.
“no, not at all. i couldn’t bring myself to hate you for something as dumb as that.”
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churipu · 11 months ago
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PERIOD COMFORT 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, nanami kento
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. period stuff, cramps, fluff.
note. new layout :> anyways, just reminding everyone that has sent in requests that my ask is only open to talk as of now and it will take a little long to have them out, but i assure you that everything in my inbox will be written! thank you
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
gojo didn't know how periods felt. so he looks up for things he could do to make you feel better — one time he actually considered buying one of the period cramps simulation machines because he didn't like seeing you in pain alone.
keyword: considered.
you had to drop the machine out of his trolley, and the male was definitely not happy about it. he tried arguing about it with you, saying how he's your 4lifer and he doesn't like seeing you in pain alone because of period cramps.
"satoru, 'm okay. i go through this every month, 'm not gonna die because of this." you tell him, handing his phone back.
gojo whines out, "but baby, i don't like seeing you in pain. i wanna be in pain with you," he shakes you back and forth gently.
but when you were content with your choice — he accepted begrudgingly. pouting out, refusing to speak to you for at least the next fifteen minutes because he couldn't stand being apart from you that long. so instead, he searched for what he could do to help.
"look, i got three chocolates, and i got you extra pads and tampons because tiktok told me to. and i got salonpas because i heard they can actually help with cramps," gojo presented proudly, "and then lastly, me. your amazing boyfriend."
you, previously, laying down on the couch, sat up slowly with a small smile at his attempt to help you with your period.
"thank you 'toru. this means a lot to me."
"i still think i should buy that machine though, baby."
𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈
he's confused. he knows about periods, but he didn't know it pained you. the young male was in a training session one morning when you called him, expecting a cheery greeting from you.
oh, he didn't. instead here you were, moaning out in pain, "yuuji, you busy?" he could vaguely make out a sharp hiss from the other line.
yuuji was indeed busy. but he told you, "no, no. are you okay? what happened?" he was in the middle of a hand-to-hand with megumi, instinctively raising his hand to stop — and megumi stopped immediately, knowing it was important for yuuji.
"period cramps . . . can you come over, please?" he was confused, tired, and sweaty. but he didn't care about that — the male was worried because were periods even supposed to hurt you?
"of course, baby. i'll be there in a sec." he ended the call and shot a look to kugisaki, "what the hell does period cramps mean, does your . . . you know, hurt or something?"
kugisaki had to give him a one minute lecture on what he should do, step by step. yuuji listened thoroughly, running to the nearest convenience store to get what kugisaki told him to: sweets, chocolates, pads and tampons, and your favorite snacks.
and it took him no longer than eight minutes to appear at your doorstep, knocking a couple of times. still sweaty and stinky, "y/n? it's me."
"door's unlocked."
he opened the door hastily, making sure not to drop any of the things he just bought. lightly sending a kick to the door to shut it, "hi baby, how are you feeling?"
"not good. i feel like 'm gonna die." you writhe out, curling into a ball on your bed. the male approached you, putting down the things, "you stink."
he chuckled, stroking your head, "'m gonna borrow your shower, and then cuddles?"
you nod, "please."
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
nanami is always ready. he just knows when your period is coming, hell, he's even more accurate than your period tracker application.
"i brought you chocolates and ice cream, and a heat pad for your cramps." nanami mumbles out, kicking his shoes off as he enters your house carrying a plastic bag.
"how did you know it was my period?"
"i remember it," that was better than any "i love you" or "i miss you".
the male's always ready to bring snacks, sweets, and heat pads for you. nanami will do what it takes to cease your period cramps since he knew he couldn't feel it like you did. he feels really awful: giving you back massages, head massages, kisses to your stomach.
he said he'd "kiss the pain better".
which actually works.
i think he knows your period schedule better than you do. he'd always remind you that your period's coming soon as a heads up, and you listen to him all the time. to the point you had to delete your application since it was pretty useless at this point.
"darling, your period's coming up soon."
"really? didn't i just finish last month's . . ?" you mumbled, a little annoyed that your schedule's coming up so fast.
"in a few days, if i'm guessing — three maybe?" he replies, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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omgthatdress · 3 months ago
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Just a little considerations for those still grieving Liam Payne
So, right now, you are probably still lost in some very real grief over someone you never met but has still been a major part of your life since you were thirteen. You feel like you've lost an extremely close friend. It's hard to imagine your life where he isn't somehow present.
I know all this because felt the exact same way seven years ago when Chester Bennington died by suicide. And I do have a little bit of wisdom to share with you all right now, wisdom that I really wish I didn't have.
First of all, it's okay to be sad. To cry. To feel like shit and wish this had happened to someone else, someone who deserved it. Give yourself the time and space to feel all that because it's the only way you can start to move on. Feeling sad is only a problem when, months later, you simply CAN'T move on. That's depression, and that's when you should seek professional mental health treatment.
Secondly, there aren't going to be ANY easy answers in this. Right now a lot of people are looking for fingers to point, people to blame, and even finding conspiracy theories that Liam was murdered. While it may be initially comforting to fall into the idea that Liam didn't do this to himself, he was murdered for some reason (usually because he was going to expose a pedophile ring of some sort), conspiracy theories are always wrong and will NEVER give you the satisfying answer you want.
It was Liam's decision to step out onto that balcony, and his alone. It is no one else's fault. Accepting that is incredibly hard to do, but it is ultimately what will grant you the most peace.
As for what lead up to that, well, there's a lot. Fucked up celebrity deaths are kind of my Roman Empire, so while I never knew Liam, I DO know a lot about what leads up to huge, terrible tragedies that play out in the tabloids in extremely ugly ways.
Becoming famous at a really young age is an incredibly mixed bag. While you do get to live out this shit 99% of people on earth can only dream of, it does mean you often find yourself at 30 with a career that's basically over. A lot of young celebs simply don't know what to do with themselves once the fame and adoration has dried up, and the answer is usually to do an absolute fuck ton of drugs.
Drug and alcohol abuse changes your personality. I know this from personal experience. Someone very close to me developed a serious problem with alcohol, and turned from a kind, funny, wonderful person to someone nasty, abusive, and resentful. Someone I didn't recognize at all. While I and my person were very lucky that they were able to quit drinking, not everyone is so lucky.
Liam deserved better. He was so young and he still had ample opportunity to turn his life around. But he made one terrible decision, and now he's dead, and there simply is no changing that.
So what do you do? Remember him, and love him. Be grateful for the joy that he brought into your life. Sing his songs, and stay close to the friends you made because of him. The fact that you are so fucking sad right now is a beautiful thing, because it only shows how deeply loved Liam Payne really was.
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theorphicangel · 11 months ago
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“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?
tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), smut, 18+, oral (m.receiving), blowjob, praise, mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL smh
PART ONE.
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“You have a valentine’s date?”
“God, O’Hara don’t even try to hide the surprise in your voice, why don’t you.”
You cross your arms, frowning at your roommate who was currently sitting next to you on the couch. The two of you were watching a remake of a new movie that had come out recently. An hour or so had passed, the both of you stuck within a comfortable silence before your words had distracted him.
“How could you blame me?” He begins, his gaze still on the television screen. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone home before.”
“So you keep notice on who I bring home?”
A pause runs between the two of you.
“No.”
“Liar.”
Miguel clears his throat. “It’s none of my business anyways, what you do.”
After a few beats of silence, Miguel speaks again, this time with a teasing tone. “I wouldn’t want to be like you anyways, keeping track of who I sleep with.”
“I do not keep track!” you exclaimed.
“How come you remembered Cindy’s name then?”
You hesitate, stuttering off. “You–you talk about her a lot.”
“Bullshit.” A grin creeps up across his lips.
“You jerk, I was gonna ask you for a favor but since you wanna play that game, nevermind.” You crossed your arms, turning your attention back to the screen. Simultaneously, you had just sparked off Miguel’s own curiosity.
“What’s the favor?”
“I don’t want to ask you anymore, I’ll ask someone else.”
“Like who? Peter?”
“Don’t be mean, mig’.”
The movie continues to play in the background for a minute or two before Miguel starts getting restless.
“So who's the guy then? Someone you paid?” Miguel’s grin doesn’t have the time to stretch across his lips this time as you throw a pillow to his face.
“Hey!”
“Watch your mouth, O’hara.”
The two of you had been roommates for just under a year. You had moved in due to an emergency situation. A few troubles with your finances, student loans and the loss of your job resulted in you desperately responding to a roommate advert posted on the internet. Moving in at the beginning was awkward, the two of you avoiding each other, minimal conversation revolving around the weather and who would take out the trash.
But all it took was one night for the both of you to open up to each other, a shift in your realization that Miguel wasn’t as bad as you thought. A few too many drinks one night led you to learn a lot about each other. Like how he didn’t like the dark yet had a weird obsession with space. You found that he had a brother, a few years younger than him who was almost a spitting image. For him, he learned how you once had wanted to be a painter but soon switched career paths to psychology as well as taking up a foreign language.
Ever since that night, you’ve managed to maintain a good friendship with Miguel, completed with a little teasing here and there. On some nights, when you were left alone in your room, you laid back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about him. Particularly, thinking about him and the girls which he brought home. Your mind wandered to the possibilities of what he would be like with them. Imagining what it would be like to be in their position.
How would he touch you, feel you, look at you? Would he be gentle and take his time or does he rush, his passion taking over his whole body? It was questions like these that plagued your mind. You began to create a fantasy in your head, touching yourself at the thought of him touching you; imagining his movements to be slow and cautious, taking you all for himself.
Speaking of, you’ve recently noticed his lack of…visitors lately. Instead of hiding away with them in his room, he’s recently been spending a lot of late nights in your company.
“What’s your plans for Valentine's Day?” you queried, trying to maintain a casual tone. “Taking Cindy out for a romantic dinner?”
Miguel scoffs, shaking his head a little. “Why don’t you ask her out yourself, since you’re so obsessed with the woman?”
A small wave of ease flows through your mind at his answer. Yet it wasn’t exactly the answer you wanted. You pat Miguel on the chest mockingly.
“I knew she said no to you. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here you kno—” Unfortunately you weren’t able to finish your sentence as a small scream left your mouth, as Miguel pinched your thigh.
“Watch it, imbécil.” he glared, before changing the topic. “But I’m serious, who's the poor guy then?”
You shoot an offended glare back before repositioning yourself on the couch, turning your body to face him properly.
“Someone asked me from work.”
“And you didn’t have to get on your knees and beg them first?” Playfully, you hit him on the arm and he lets out a fake wince of pain.
“Shut up. And no, for your information, I didn’t.”
Miguel hums, his eyes quickly glancing back to the television screen as he tries his best to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his lower abdomen. Guess he should cancel tomorrow then.
“But I had a favor to ask you.” you turn your body, shifting your position to face him. Miguel merely raises a brow, humming deeply again with his eyes still glued on the screen.
“I was wondering if you’d…show me how to—uhhh how do I put this? Suck someone off.”
Miguel froze. Oh, now you had his attention.
“¿Qué?”
You freeze, clearing your throat as his eyes snap back to you. “I mean it was just a suggestion– I-I’ve watched a few videos but I’m still kinda—I just— I mean, I don’t–”
“You don’t know how to give a blowjob?”
It was a bit more blunt than you had wanted to put it but…yes.
You nodded silently, now choosing to avoid eye contact. “I just wanted some tips, y’know? What do guys generally like? I’ve read that some like it differently than others so…”
“Why are you asking me?”
Ah yes, the million dollar question. Why were you asking your hot ass roommate for blowjob tips? You had the choice to ask anyone: your best friend, or another friend or even a random stranger on the internet. Why him?
“You’re…experienced.” was all that you could come up with. “And not in a bad way!” You quickly correct. “ but I can assume you’ve had your good shares of…that.”
Miguel raises a brow again, swallowing thickly. Anxiety was now bubbling at the base of his stomach. You were asking him how to please a man and immediately his mind jumped at the thought of you with your valentine’s date at the end of the night. Ah, you were asking for your date.
“Well, did you just want tips or did you…” he trails off without finishing the sentence, thinking how weird it would be to finish the sentence that had popped up in his mind.
“ ‘Or did I’ what?” You repeat, tilting your head ever so innocently.
“Or did you want to practice on me?”
/
And that’s how you got here. Kneeling on the floor between the thighs of your very own roommate whom you have only known for less than a year. Was this what you were expecting when asking for advice? Of course not. But there was a sense of excitement that grew in the pit of your stomach and you weren’t going to complain about it.
“So how do I start?” You glance up at Miguel, your eyes wide with innocence and curiosity to learn. Just from the way that you looked at him, he was already beginning to get hard.
“Well, you just start.”
You roll your eyes, “Okay, doofus. So you expect me to just get into it? No foreplay or anything?”
“There’ll probably be some foreplay with your date and stuff but…we don’t have to do that.”
For a split second there’s an aura of hesitation between the two of you; him regretting his last words and you almost wanting to reject his assumption. Mutually, there’s a little voice inside of you that tempts you both to take the chance and do this properly.
But of course, this was a lesson.
A mere, innocent favor from a roommate. With no strings attached. Or feelings for that matter.
Even if it killed you both to suppress them.
You nod silently, taking mental notes. Miguel raised his hips a little to pull down his sweatpants, enough so that you could access him with ease. Now you’re starting to get nervous. Your heart was palpitating so much that you could hear your own heartbeat thump in your ears. “I-”
“If you don’t want to, we can stop.” He quips quickly, noticing your hesitation.
You pause, reflecting for the final time whether or not you wanted to do it. Once you made your decision, you glanced up at Miguel.
“It’s not like I have much time left to practice, right?”
Miguel raises a brow. After all, Valentine's day was tomorrow so you needed all the practice that you could get. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” you vocalized, trying to sound more confident in this way.
“Okay, lemme just–” Miguel mumbled to himself as tugs down his boxers. You noticed the way the bottom of his shirt hiked up a little, presenting his happy trail; a dark bush of hair leading all the way down to his…
Oh.
It’s big. Bigger than you thought. And he’s not even hard yet.
Miguel seethes a little, his cock only semi-hard. He pumps himself a few times before removing his hand, leaving it up to you. His arms now rest on the back edge of the couch, widening his thighs a little more for accessibility.
‘Holy shit’, you think to yourself, how the fuck were you supposed to deal with this?
Miguel caught onto your expression, panic drawn all over your face. “We can–”
“No.” you interrupt him, reading his apprehension too. His concern for you is more than obvious. “I want to.”
Miguel chuckles a little, “I was going to suggest to take it slow but yeah, if you’re still up for it.”
You swallow thickly, edging nearer before planting your hands on his thighs. This is so alien to you. After many months of tiptoeing around him at a distance, it was scary how fast you found yourself in a position of intimacy with him.
Sure, many times before have you fantasized about what it would be like to get close to him. With the sounds of moans coming from his bedroom late at night, it wasn’t hard for you to figure out how much of a woman pleaser he was.
Slowly, your hand wraps around his cock, feeling him get harder and harder with every second that passes. You think back to the videos that you had watched previous to this, noticing that most of the women decide to give a few strokes before going in with their mouth. You imitate them easily, watching your hand move.
You take in every fine detail: every vein, every twitch, every shade leading from the tip to the base. The crown of his cock is thick, becoming redder with every stroke as juices of pre-cum subtly spilling away.
“Jus’ like that.” Miguel murmurs and you notice how his tone is a little lighter than before. “When you’re ready, you can lick the tip a little, warm yourself up to it.”
You hum in response. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, not yet at least.
Once again, you think back to the porn videos you had watched, imitating the women by tracing little circles across the tip of his dick. Miguel lets out a drawn out groan and little by little you can feel his body relax as you continue on. It tastes salty. The tip of his cock is reddened and soft.
For a minute or two you continue to trace circles, closing your eyes in the moment, allowing yourself to relax and get rid of any nerves or doubt. Miguel says nothing more, his teeth softly biting down on his lower lip, he watches as you hesitate, unsure of how to continue from here.
Miguel’s hand soon reaches for your chin, causing you to pause and tilt your head up towards him. His hand cups right under your lips and your face turns to confusion for a split second before he lets out his command.
“Spit.”
For some reason, your body listens to him without a second thought.
“It’s okay if it gets messy,” he advises, “the messier the better.”
You make a mental note of that.
You make sure to be careful with your teeth as your lips part around his cock. Once again you take it slow, letting your mouth adjust to his size. He’s bigger and thicker than you had expected, barely halfway before he already fills up your mouth. Your eyes water as you attempt to take him whole, a decision which you realize quickly was too hasty as you reach your gag reflex.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t– mierda!” Miguel sits up a little, trying to pace you. Your eyes water and saliva continues to pool out of your mouth, dripping down to his balls. Your cheeks are full of his cock and as if following his instincts, Miguel almost wants to hold your head there. It takes all of his resilience not to place his hand at the back of your head. He let out a grunt at the warmth of your mouth, coaxing him to stay a little longer. But unfortunately if he does, then he may cum sooner rather than later.
You feel his fingers tap your shoulder, “Hey–” he manages to draw out, “brea–breathe through your nose.” You attempt to do so, just letting off a few inches of his dick, letting your hand stroke whatever you can’t take. With you, you can build up a pace more freely, bobbing your head up and down. You close your eyes, concentrating on keeping your rhythm, a steady pace for now.
Fuck it, Miguel gives into his instincts, letting a hand cup the back of your head ever so lightly.
“Fuck, keep going… you’re doing so well.”
Miguel’s praises boost your confidence, the simple phrase removing past doubts that had cast over you. You pause to allow yourself to breathe, your hand stroking his length in the meanwhile and Miguel seems to cup your chin again.
“Mírame.”
One simple order and he has you hooked and, god, you have a gorgeous view.
His dark brows are deeply furrowed. Chest rising and falling heavily, His hands are now by his side, prominent veins from his other arm lead to the back of his hand which currently grips a pillow on the couch. His eyes are beginning to droop, with his head tilted back slightly. You notice how his Adam apple bobs in his throat with every guttural hum that he makes. His mouth is just about agape enough for you to spot his pink tongue peeking out at you.
And as for him? The sight of you is more wondrous than he could ever imagine. Your eyes are also heavy-lidded. Lips plump and wet with saliva dripping down your chin. This is a side of you that he’s never seen before. Your eyes glow with submission, the innocence and inexperience peeling off of you. If you keep looking at him with that expression, he’s not particularly confident that he’ll be able to hold on for that long.
“Don’t stop looking at me, okay?”
You hum a little before your lips open wide to wrap around his cock again. Yet this time, you manage to keep eye contact. Another unrestrained grunt leaves Miguel’s mouth, his lips parting once more.
You’d say that you’re confident now, relaxed more than ever – confident enough to begin exploring. Keeping his cock in your mouth, you begin to bob your head at a rhythmic pace and at the same time a free hand reaches down to his base, lightly tracing over his balls.
A sharp inhale leaves his mouth. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that, nena?”
You hum in response, the vibration of your mouth causing a helpless moan from your roommate. You focus near the tip of his cock, returning back to tracing circles over the slit. One hand still pumps the rest of him whilst the other gently teases his balls with your fingertips.
He’s closer than you think. And you can tell by the way that his hips begin to shift a little as if he’s trying to get more of your touch. He tilts his head back, chest rising and falling at a more dramatic pace. “Shit–shit–shit-m’gonna, m’gonna cum– if– if you keep going… oh fuck!”
“Wan’ me to swallow it all?”
You’re practically teasing him at this point. Fuck, he’ll do anything, anything. And this time he doesn’t hold back in vocalizing this, the words ‘yes’ falling from his tongue, pleading, begging you to continue. “Yes, yes, don’t fucking stop.”
You decide to grant him his wishes, turning to a faster pace as you stroke his length with your hand. You can feel his cock twitching, thick veins rubbing against your palm.
“You close, mig’?” you taunt, watching as he closes his eyes in pure euphoria. He nods, inchorant words fall from his lips in a babble as his hips jerk upwards and his thighs tense around you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck m’cumming! M’gonna–”
Miguel manages to cut himself off with a deep groan, lifting his hips up as you wrap your lips around him for the last time. His cock twitches, veins pulsating as your mouth is filled with his white seed. You swallow as much as you can, trying to bear the salty taste. His cum is thick, spurting so much out you think you won’t be able to keep up. Some leaks out, dripping down his shaft. As soon as you’ve swallowed, you lap up what you missed.
“Fuck, wait, wait–”
“M’cleaning you up.” you mumble. You can tell how sensitive he is. Just from your tongue lightly licking his length so as to not waste anything, his cock twitches. Once satisfied, you pull away, your tongue licking at your bottom lip.
Apart from the sound of the now forgotten movie playing in the background and the sound of light panting coming from Miguel, there’s a silence between the both of you.
You lean back, resting on your heels as you begin to grow aware of your actions.
You’ve just sucked off your roommate. Correction. Your hot ass roommate.
Neither of you know what to say. You begin to avoid his eye contact, feeling the awkwardness creep in. Yet, it fails to fully entrap you as Miguel chooses to bite the dust and speaks first.
“For someone with a mouth that doesn’t shut up, I’m surprised you know how to use it well.” he mutters, pulling up his boxers and sweatpants.
All tension from your body begins to evaporate, a slight smile appearing on your lips.
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” you frown, wiping off remnants of his cum mixed with your saliva from your lips with the back of your hand.
“Nothing, nothing. You were just…good for someone who hadn’t done anything like this before.”
Unlike when you were sucking him off, his praise causes heat to rise to your cheeks, your face burning up. And like a few moments ago too, you continue to avoid his eyes.
Clearing your throat, you move to stand, gesturing that you’re about to go to your room. The movie is just about over but neither you nor him were worried about that anymore.
“Any other advice that I should take?” you say.
Miguel frowns, taking a few moments to think deeply. If he’s being completely honest with himself, that orgasm has crushed him. Leaving him with nothing but thoughts of you and that sweet mouth of yours. Just thinking about it almost makes him hard again.
A part of him almost dares to tell you to forget your date tomorrow and to go out with him tomorrow. The card and flowers addressed to you, wait patiently in his room, a last-minute gift after weeks of building up the courage to ask you. All that courage is lost now though.
He’s too late.
“No.” He says, finally, going against his instincts. “Just do exactly what you did for me.”
“No complaints?”
“No complaints.” He clarifies. A deep pit of regret and hurt builds up again in his lower stomach, a feeling that he’ll have to start getting used to. He deserves it, he thinks, for not asking you sooner. He has no right to be jealous that someone else beat him to it. Not when he wasn’t dropping enough signs to prove that…
he’s falling in love with you.
Before entering your bedroom, you pause, the door leading to your bedroom slightly ajar. “Hey.”
Miguel glancing up to look at you.
“Thanks.”
Miguel says nothing more and really he should be the one thanking you for the heaven that you’ve just taken him to. He waits until he hears your bedroom door close and lock before letting out a sigh that he didn’t know he was holding in.
After he’s sure that you won’t return, Miguel pulls out his phone, tapping his screen until he reaches a certain page.
‘Are you sure you want to cancel your reservation for a ‘table for two’ on the 14th of February ?’
After a mere moment of hesitation, he confirms. His thumb clicking on ‘yes’.
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part 2.
2K notes · View notes
bluesidez · 4 months ago
Note
Hello!!! Love that you’re taking requests now 🫶🏽 would you write a domestic!miguel fic? Like showing the chaotic but fluffy dysfunction of the O’Hara household. Miguel and the reader already have two kids, maybe reader is pregnant with the third (if you’re comfortable with writing that)
I just really need some fluff in my life lol 😅
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[Five Peas In A Pod]
lab taster: @scorpihoooe 🩻
pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Pregnant!Reader
summary: No family's life is exactly perfect, but it doesn't make them any less beautiful.
content warning: lots and lots of fluff, mentions of vomit, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy cravings, mentions of food, could possibly be suggestive? but not enough to warrant a huge warning, a lot of crying but I promise it's not sad
word count: 4.3k, not proofread
a/n: I apologize for this being so late! But I'm really happy with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy it as well!
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“Finally.”
Miguel slid under the covers, grunting as he inched towards your back. His breath was warm on your head as he positioned one arm under one of your pillows and another around your waist.
“How are we feeling?” he kissed your scalp and rubbed down your stomach.
“Not too great, she’s been kicking for the past forty minutes.”
“That’s no good,” Miguel shifted to place his mouth on your shoulder. “What’s wrong, mija? Did you miss me?”
Your baby girl brought her feet to where Miguel held his hand, tapping away like there was there was no tomorrow. Miguel chuckled and wrote a pattern into your skin with his thumb.
“I’m glad you two are having a lovely reunion, but I’d like to go to sleep.”
Miguel kissed up your shoulder and neck as you sighed.
“Hear that Gabi? Can you calm down until tomorrow? Mama needs to sleep so you can keep growing. We can talk in the morning.”
Like magic, Gabriella’s little feet slowed to a halt.
“She hasn’t even seen you yet and she’s already a daddy’s girl,” you weave your fingers through his over your stomach. “What’s next? She’ll look like you too?”
“Mm,” Miguel placed his lips behind your ear. “I hope she looks like you. She’ll be the most beautiful in the world.”
You smiled, “Yeah?”
“Of course.”
Miguel took his hands down your body and massaged your hip and lower back. You groaned and melted into your pillow, arching your body into Miguel’s hold. With his ministrations and your daughter giving you a break, you start to fade into dreamland.
You could almost visualize your next craving you were going to make tomorrow. A big bowl of mashed potatoes with chunks of pickles, bacon, and caramel drizzle. Maybe some sprinkles too.
The door of the bedroom creaked, Miguel looking over his shoulder.
“Daddy? Mommy? I threw up.”
Miguel’s hands paused and he heaved a heavy sigh.
There was a dip in the bed and a shuffle of slides across the floor.
“Is your stomach still feeling funny, bub?”
You turned your body to watch Miguel bend down and check your second oldest for soiled clothes. Daniel shook his head and tucked his chin into his chest, eyes welling up with tears.
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?”
“I’m sorry,” his voice was shaking. “I didn’t mean to.”
You got up on the edge of the bed and walked around to the other side. You sat on your knees next to Miguel and pressed the back of your hand to Daniel’s forehead. He wasn’t burning up, but he was trembling.
“We know you didn’t mean to, honey. Sometimes, we just get sick. It’s ok!”
“Yeah, buddy. Papá gets sick all of the time.”
“Really?” Daniel looked to Miguel with big doe eyes, a baby picture of Miguel brought to life.
“Absolutely.”
“And Mama has to nurse him back to health-”
“Ok! Here,” Miguel tugged at the sleeves of his shirt while you laugh. “Let’s clean you up and get you some medicine. It was probably really scary, huh?”
Daniel nodded his head as Miguel helped him take off his pajama pants.
“C’mon. Let’s take a quick bubble bath. How does that sound? No need to be sad,” you gave Daniel a hug and kissed his cheek.
“I’ll get the sheets and clothes in the washing machine and join you.” Miguel said as he helped you up. So much for cuddles before bed.
Miguel was quick to scope Daniel’s room. Any smell of tonight’s stir fry mixed with the chocolate milk from lunch and your waves of morning sickness might come back. He was quick to transfer the sheets to the washing machine and spray the room down with disinfectant. Luckily, the damage wasn’t drastic, so a quick change of sheets and a mop to the floor was all that was needed.
By the time he got to the bathroom, Daniel was wrapped up in a green dinosaur hoodie towel with a smile on his face as you blew raspberries into his cheek.
Miguel gasped, “Are you two having a party without me?”
Daniel folded his hands under his chin and nodded meekly, face rosy.
“Nonsense!” Miguel swept him up in his arms. “There’s no party without Papá, no?”
The hall filled with giggles as Miguel airplaned Daniel back to his room. The chatter amongst them filled the noise as Miguel reassured Daniel that he and mommy would only be a room away if was feeling sick again.
He ran lotion over his body and placed him in paw print pajamas. He wrapped him tight in the covers and shifted the star night light on the nightstand. With a whisper of goodnight, Miguel inched his way to the door.
However, the crumbling face of the five year old as Miguel looked through the crack tugged at his heart. He opened the door, swept Daniel up, and trudged back to his own bedroom.
Walking into the room, you were laying down with the opposite side of the duvet flipped up and an extra pillow in between yours and his.
Your face was knowing, a shake in your shoulders as you watched Miguel rock a clingy baby in his arms to the bed.
“Joining mommy and daddy, Daniel?”
“Uh huh,” he crawls to the middle and pulls the covers up. You lay a hand on his tummy over the duvet as Miguel slips in with a deep sigh.
He turns and places his hand over yours, the two of you acting as a shield. “I love you’s” and “good nights” are exchanged and a kiss between the two of you is shared before Daniel whines about wanting a kiss too. Both of you laugh and kiss him on his cheeks as he settled into his pillow.
You rub his chest lightly, something that put him to sleep easily as a baby.
His eyes start to close, almost gone to the world, before he jerks back up, startling Miguel whose eyes were just as heavy.
“Papá, can you sing the night-night song?” Daniel pleads.
A soft breath escapes your nose as you watch Miguel blink his eyes open and comply.
“But you have to go to sleep after this, bub.”
Daniel promises to do so as Miguel starts up a lullaby about a baby that wants to sleep but can’t.
It works on you too, the low drum of his voice holding you in his arms as you held your baby in yours.
Gabriella moved, and as softly as you can, you take his hand to your stomach. With this, she taps softly to his palm.
Miguel smiles sleepily as he watches you take a little breath, the rise and fall of your chest showing that you were in a deep sleep.
He only stops singing when he’s sure all three of you are asleep.
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“Jaime, I’ve asked you five times to get up already. Get it together.”
There was only one more hour left before everyone needed to be out of the house or else you’d be late to your appointment.
The lump in the bed only moves a bit before it’s still again.
“Jaime, please. I don’t want to have to pull you out of the bed.”
Today was already starting out all over the place. You woke up sweaty and achy, the heat radiating from your furnace of a husband and your snuggly son was too much. Your ankles felt a little more swollen than usual, and you wanted chewy spicy rice cakes with extra cheese, but the heartburn wouldn’t be worth it.
You sighed as your eldest stayed put. A soft pat to the bed only earned a whine and a wiggle from him.
Looking towards the growing footsteps at the door, your husband was frantic and glaring at his watch as if it cursed him.
“What’s the holdup? We need to be in the car soon and Daniel has to be at school early for a field trip.”
You held your hand out to the bed, face defeated.
“Son.”
Jaime shot up with a wobble to his lips and a scrunch to his face at the tone of Miguel’s voice.
You folded your arms, half concerned, half offended.
“I know you hear your mother asking you to get up.”
“But-“
“Jaime O’Hara.”
The tears start to fall as he shuffles out of bed and goes to the bathroom, his cries pitiful and broken.
He swings the door like he’s about to slam it only to close it softly at the end, the sound of his voice carrying through then hallway.
“Was I too hard on him?” Miguel’s shoulders drop.
“No? I don’t think so. But I think there’s something he’s not telling us.”
“Is there something going on at school? Did we miss an important date?”
The two of you stare at each other as Jaime continues to sob in the bathroom.
“There’s no award ceremonies. He hasn’t said anything strange about his classmates. His birthday isn’t until the end of the year. He does have his game coming up.”
Miguel gasps and runs his had through his hair, “He’s been worrying about his 3-pointers nonstop. He’s probably nervous about it.”
He puts his face in his hand and mumbles through his fingers.
“How could I forget?”
You pat his shoulder, “Don’t worry about that right now. What’s important is that we talk to him. Check up on him, calm him down, explain things to him, and encourage him. Right?”
“Absolutely,” Miguel kisses your temple. “You’re so good at this.”
A snicker follows his statement, “And so are you. Now, can you go stop his crying while I make sure Daniel hasn’t made a mess in the kitchen? He’s too quiet.”
Miguel’s eyebrows shot up again as he realized he left the kindergartner to his own devices. The last time he did that, he walked onto a floor covered in flour and dusty, giggly baby.
“Smart idea.”
“Mm hm.”
Miguel turns and heads towards the bathroom, giving it two knocks before asking to come in.
Jaime takes a deep breath and pushes out a yes.
Miguel opens the door to him crying in the mirror while he puts up his toothbrush. If it were anyone else’s child or baby brother, it could have been funny and dramatic, but Miguel sees himself in the way his entire chest jumps when he breathes in.
He hopes Jaime always feels that home is a safe place to cry and yell, something his own parents never offered him.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
He left his frustration with the frantic morning at the doorway and stepped inside. With one hand on the counter and another arm resting on his thigh, he squatted down to Jaime’s level.
His son rubbed his eyes from the inside of his elbow to his arm, “I kept messing up.”
“Messing up what? Your shots?”
Jaime nodded his head, curly hair bouncing along with it.
“At practice, Coach made us do Around-the-worlds and the further from the goal, the more I kept missing. But the game is soon, and I can’t mess up at the game.”
His voice reached its highest point and he bit his lip in order not to cry again.
“Oye, está bien. That’s just practice, mijo. The game isn’t until a few more days. There’s plenty of time for us to get to a court and do some more drills. I know it feels like a lot right now, but we can always work to be better. Understood?”
Jaime nodded his head.
“Can you look at me?”
Jaime pouted as he turned to Miguel.
“I apologize for not giving you the space to explain yourself this morning. I was rushing and I didn’t take the time to check on you. For that, Papá’s sorry. Lo siento, mijo.”
With a calmer demeanor, Jaime forgives him. No whines and no hesitation.
“Still, when you’re feeling like this, you need to communicate, ok? Mamá was there and you could have told her that you were worried. You could have even called for me and I would have come running.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt Mamá.”
Miguel bit the inside of his lip in order to not coo, “I know you didn’t. Would you like to apologize to her like I did to you?”
Jaime collided with Miguel’s chest and wrapped his arms around his neck. He could feel the movement of his head nodding.
“Ok, buddy. Let’s go find her after we get your uniform on.”
Jaime wasn’t budging from his spot so Miguel let him cling off his neck as he got up. One day his eldest might not want to do things like this again, so for now he’ll cherish it.
One blazer, some knaki shorts, and a button down later, Jaime was all ready for school.
“And what do we say when we’re feeling down about ourselves?” Miguel asked as he tucked in the end of Jaime’s belt.
“Nothing can stop me from the path I want to take, not even my doubts.”
“And?”
“O’Hara’s may make mistakes, but O’Hara’s bounce back. O’Hara’s succeed.”
“¡Exactamente!” Miguel patted his back.
“¿Papá?”
“¿Sí, mijo?”
Jaime held his hands up, silently pleading with Miguel.
With an easy tug, his son was in his arms. As tall as he was getting, he was still Miguel’s baby.
In the kitchen, you were leaning over the island as you listened intensely to Daniel talk about types of dinosaurs. You looked up to your son in your husband’s arms and you knew they had a good talk.
Miguel strode up to you and looked at Jaime expectantly.
“I,” he picked at his uniform tie. “I’m sorry for not listening to you this morning Mamá. I was sad but that- that doesn’t mean I was supposed to ignore you.”
Your eyes started to water, “I forgive you, Jaime. I’m glad you were able to figure out what was wrong. Can I give you a kiss?”
“Yes, please.”
With that, you kiss his cheek and place a hand on his head.
“Papá, pick me up too!” Daniel huffs out.
Miguel complies, holding him in his other arm like nothing. You giggle at the three of them, all very similar in some way. Their skin, their hair, their smiles. Your precious, precious boys.
A sharp kick to your stomach causes you to suck in through your teeth.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Miguel asks with a pinch in his brow.
“No, I just think a certain someone wants your attention, too.”
You gently press your stomach to your husband’s, hoping that he could feel Gabriella’s tap dance performance.
“She’s going crazy in there,” you mumble.
Miguel can kind of feel her little feet through his shirt, but really, he was staring at you.
Even as you frowned at your stomach, you were still so beautiful. Your skin was glowing, you were giving him more smiles than ever, and the pregnancy was treating your body right in his eyes.
“Mírame.”
You peer up at him and it’s like a halo appears above your head. He’s quick to slot his lips against yours and hold it, the feeling of warmth settling into his bones.
“Eugh,” Jaime scrunches his face up in disgust.
You pull back and shake your head with a heated face, brought back to reality. Daniel is giggling behind his hands.
Miguel turned to Jaime and bombarded his face with kisses to, leading the 9-year-old to scream bloody murder. You joined Miguel on his attack, not stopping until Jaime waved his white flag.
The two of you looked at each other and then at Daniel simultaneously who squeaked when he saw you grin. Laughter filled the kitchen as the three of you gave Daniel some love.
Mornings were for chaos, but they also brought you together.
By the time Miguel was walking to the car with his kids, it was far past his estimated time.
He turned and looked at you still standing by the kitchen counter.
“Baby, c’mon.”
“But,” you pause, smile growing on your face. “The baby wants to be carried, too.”
You think he’s about to brush the comment off with a sigh but he gives a “One sec” and disappears into the garage with the kids.
You go to gather your purse and your water, checking that all of the lights and appliances are turned off.
“Ok,” Miguel rushes back in and claps his hands, “vamos.”
Three blinks at his wrestler stance and it clicks. You walk to him and your feet leave the ground.
“You’re so silly,”
“Just in love, mi amor.”
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The gel was still as cold as ever, you could never really get used to it.
Looking to Miguel, you could see that he could never get used to sitting next to you in these rooms either. His grip on your hand was tight and solid.
The obstetrician slid the transducer on your lower stomach, her eyes sliding over the screen.
Gabriella’s little heartbeat bounced through the room, fast and strong.
Miguel’s grip on your hand loosened as he smiled at the screen.
“Baby girl is looking good,” the doctor says. “Everything is in place and she’s growing perfectly. You both should be proud.”
She paused and looked at you both, specifically at Miguel, “I would be worried about how she big she’s getting at this stage, but I can see why. How tall are you?”
“Uh, 6’9.”
A whistle passes her lips, “Godspeed, Mama. You’ll need it for the next several months.”
“Two boys and my only girl is going to give me a run for my money,” you mumble.
Jaime and Daniel were so tiny when they came out, both of them barely showing at five months. Gabriella is close to being almost twice their size at this rate, and the soreness all over your body was showing it.
At least your husband made time to make you feel good in more ways than one.
“Is there anything that she should look out for? Other than the obvious?” Miguel asks, always the worrier.
“No, I think you guys are good to go. I’ll get you some pictures of the baby and get you checked out. Just keep taking your vitamins, get plenty of water, get those feet up, and stretch as much as you can while you still feel like it. The least stress you have, the better.”
Your stomach is wiped clean and in no time, you’re back in the car trying to decide what to get for lunch.
“I feel like I should have asked more questions,” Miguel’s fingers tapped on the wheel.
“I’m sure you’ll have more that you can call her for later, baby. Right now, I want a milkshake.”
“You need some nourishing food, too.”
“Is that what you want Gabriella?” you ask your stomach. No taps, no spins, no twirls. “What about a milkshake? Chocolate oreo? Extra whip cream?” Gabriella thumps three times.
“My girl is already so smart,” you say to Miguel who scowls.
“Already so spoiled.”
“You love it, though.”
“Mm.”
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Miguel swore he would never be like those fathers that only connected to their children through their own expectations of them, and to be fair, he was the complete opposite.
Though seeing him stand at the bottom of the bleachers with a baseball cap, folded arms, and a stern face gave the impression that he was that type of dad.
“¡Ay, eso es faulta!”
“Babe. Maybe let’s let the coach and the referee do their jobs.”
“They don’t know what they’re doing. That was clearly a foul and my son should be holding the ball right now.”
You sighed and continued to chew on your nachos with Daniel who was just happy to be out of the house later than usual. Miguel was about to burn a hole in the gymnasium floor with how stiff he was standing.
Behind him was a family that couldn’t see, leaning around him.
“Miguel, honey, please sit down so everyone can see.”
He sits and folds his hands under his chin. His muscles bulge through his jacket as his legs bounce.
You place a hand on his leg and put a water bottle to his lips. He takes a few sips and focuses back on the game.
“Let’s go, Jaime! Make it count!”
He’s back on his feet again as Jaime gets ready to shoot some free-throws.
Jaime looks at Miguel, a hint of fear in his eyes. Miguel brings his hands up and pushes them down, motioning a deep breath.
“You got this, mijo. Just like we practiced.”
Your son dribbles once, twice, and takes the shot.
The basketball flies through the air and brushes the rim of the basket. It spins and the gym goes quiet. You don’t realize your holding your breath until it comes back when the people behind you stomp on the bleachers.
Jaime looks to Miguel with the brightest face he could muster. Miguel almost springs through the ceiling with how high he jumps.
“That’s my son,” he claps his hands like thunder, chest puffing up. “That’s my son!”
The game continues with Miguel milliseconds from fighting with the official, Jaime looking to Miguel for encouragement, and you smacking the back of his thighs whenever he was standing too much.
When Jaime made the final basket, you were scared Miguel might do a backflip.
Jaime ran to him and jumped in his arms, Miguel spinning him around and laughing with glee.
“I did it, daddy! I did it!”
“¡Eres increíble, mijo! I’m so proud of you.”
“Did you see me, mommy?”
“I did! I couldn’t take my eyes off of you!”
Daniel jumps up and down, “You made the ball go whoosh! And, and, and when it went in everybody screamed!”
Jaime and his brother played together as the gym started to empty out.
“What do you say we celebrate with some pizza?” you ask Miguel as you watch Jaime help Daniel dribble.
“I think that’s an excellent idea.”
“And what do you say to carton of cotton candy ice cream after the kids go to bed? Maybe even a soak in the bath?”
Miguel looked to you as you blinked your eyes at him. You slid your hands down his arm and tilted your head.
“You want vanilla wafers too?”
You nod.
“And strawberry syrup?”
“You’re such a good husband.”
You pull him down to kiss him, heart soaring.
“Mamá! Look what I can do!”
“No, Daniel! Don’t jump off that!”
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“If I hear that raccoon sing that song one more time, I’m going to lose it,” Miguel bit into a slice of pizza.
You reached across the table to wipe some ranch off of his lips and lick it away.
“I like the song! He’s a little off-key, though.”
Miguel had a grimace on his face, the energy from the building overwhelming. Or perhaps it was Daniel clinging tight to his side whenever the mascot came close to their table.
A couple of kids ran by, running towards the line for laser tag.
You listened to them go over strategies, all very serious coming from them.
“God, I can’t believe he’ll be 10 soon. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
You poke the straw of your cup in and out, pout on your face. It felt like just yesterday you and Miguel were setting up his nursery.
“I remember him grabbing my finger at the hospital. So strong for someone who couldn’t eat solids yet.”
“Now he’s running around and blooming into this perfect little boy,” you sigh, watching him catapult into a ballpit. You should definitely make him take some vitamins later, just to be sure.
“And this little boy is the sweetest,” Miguel kissed the top of Daniel’s head, who seemed to be pre-occupied with a coloring book you packed.
“And once our little girl is in our arms, it’ll be so special,” you say. “She’s already making an impact.”
“I’m already crazy about her,” Miguel grins.
“And I’m ready for her to come out,” you snicker. “I have a feeling that whatever she’ll do will involve these rapid fire feet.”
“I need to get some new running shoes then,” Miguel replies in all seriousness. Daniel interrupted him with a drawing of a T-rex.
“When she gets here,” Miguel comments in between his praise for Daniel’s skill, “how do you want to celebrate afterwards?”
“I don’t need anything. Just maybe a plate of food I couldn’t eat and a comfy bed.”
“Mamà, c’mon,” Miguel held your hand across the table. “That can be arranged easily. I mean something especially for you for doing something so amazing. It can be anything. I’ll make it happen.”
Your heart sped up, a bit giddy.
“Well the last time we took a trip to an island and,” you panned to Daniel, “we both know how that ended. Maybe the mountains?”
“We can do the mountains. Or just you and your friends if you want.”
Miguel thought about you all bundled up and cozy, enjoying s'mores and wine in a sweater and a blanket. Peak cuddling form.
“That would be very nice. Thank you, Miggy.”
“Of course. Now what do you say to a friendly game of arcade racing?”
“There’s nothing friendly about leaving you in the dust.”
Miguel scoffed and slid Daniel into his arms.
“It’s on.”
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As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT! This was very sweet to write!!
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auroreliis · 3 months ago
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Hi! If you're comfortable with it, could I request batfams reactions to a reader who's suddenly clingy on their period or something similar? Normally I like my personal space but I am desperate for some type of warmth because cramps are actually killing me 💔
Bruce would still keep his distance, as he knows you don’t like physical touch. However, he would still be around you more, always asking if you need something. Anything sweet? Any pads? Any source of warmth? He will provide it immediately and be very understanding to you lashing out (don’t worry, he knows you can’t control it).
"What is it? You need pain killers?" He rumages in the bag he brought with him and hands you some pain killers.
"Hm? Chocolate? Yes, right awa-...what? Oh, oreo chocolate...? Mh. Fine, I'll go get some."
Dick would be very cuddly, almost as though HE’S on the period. He would hug you and sometimes even carry you around, despite your complaints…
“PUT ME DOWN YOU OVERSIZED CIRCUS CLOWN”
“:(”
Would he put you down? Well, yes. However, only at the destination. Then, after putting you down, he would take a step back and remain at that distance for about 5 minutes. After that, he would hug you again. And so the cycle repeats.
It does annoy you a lot, however, he is COMPLETELY unbothered by your shouting and your complaining. Like, dude. Take a fucking hint, will you? Obviously, since he’s already there, he also provides you with whatever you need. This means: If you want him to leave while also making him think that he’s doing you a favour, go send him to do something like getting you food or spare clothes. He will happily skip off, thinking he’s gaining your favour.
Jason would be playing with fire, always bothering you with stupid requests.
“So, wanna come to the library with me? I wanna go read something, but I also want you to be there”
You grumble, clearly declining his request.
“Well? Yes or no?” He is not taking the hint.
“No.” You mutter.
“What? A little louder, please”, he leans in closer.
“I SAID NO. Leave me the fuck alone. I want nothing to do with you. Haven’t I made that clear? Are you too stupid to notice? Do I need to be more direct?”
“:d”
At that point, he gives up for his own safety.
Tim, the leech, uses this opportunity, almost viewing it as a blessing.
“Heyyyyy, I have a heating pouch and all your favourite snacks and drinks and your favourite show prepared. If you come over to my room, I’ll make sure that nobody enters beside you and me AND I’ll let you take up the whole bed while I sit on a chair. What do you say? Wanna come to my room? :)”
If you foolishly decide to reject his offer, he will work hard to come up with something more alluring. Tim doesn’t give up easily.
Damian remains professional. He would probably create a presentation highlighting why you should ask him for help during hard times and not his brothers.
“Sibling. I am able to provide you with anything you require. As you know, whatever I provide is better than what anyone else in this manor could provide, hence why you should only ask me for help. Additionally, I am not as pushy as the other rejects, so taking up my offers is most ideal for you too. My goal is to help you, while their goal is to be in your proximity. Compare our values and see which you are most satisfied with.”
Stephanie and Cassandra completely understand. Despite how hard the others try, the girls would naturally be of most help. They’ve been there, they just get it. They also don’t annoy you, so you spend most of your period by their side. They just aren’t as loud and pushy as the others.
Secret bonding moment unlocked.
With special permission from Bruce (which they got with a lot of yapping and convincing), they get a hotel room and stay there with you until your period is over. This is very refreshing, as you don’t have to deal with the boys anymore and finally have some peace.
Honestly, the manor is always full at all times, but now it’s just the 3 of you. You all bond and have fun while the rest misses you. No, seriously, prepare for lots of cuddles to make up for your lacking presence </3
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stevieschrodinger · 6 months ago
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Part One Two Three four
Steve’s eating a bowl of cereal, squinting in the morning light. He’s barefoot, wearing nothing but sleep shorts, and is considering going back to bed. He shouldn’t though; he has to be on time today.
Since the mall burned down, Scoops Ahoy is, annoyingly, no more. Robin thinks she has something though, some guy at Family Video who probably has the hots for her or something. Doesn’t matter though, Steve doesn’t really care what this Keith guys motivation is as long as it results in gainful employment for the both of them.
He really should shower.
Steve can see the pool from here, so he’s in a prime position to watch as Eddie pulls himself out of the water and makes his way to the back door.
This is the second time Eddie has come into the house, if you don’t count the emergency temporary over nighter in the bath tub. Well, it’s the second time Eddie has brought himself into the house, at least.
He waits patiently at the back door, like a cat waiting to be let in, and Steve opens the door for him, cereal bowl still balanced in the other hand.
He holds himself in that same way, flat of his tail curled up beneath him, giving him a little height, and he sits himself uncertainly in the middle of the kitchen floor, “hi Eddie.”
“Stee. Buddidy”
Steve gets him some celery from the bottom of the fridge and gives him the whole thing. They stand, and sit, together in comfortable silence, crunching their way through their respective breakfasts.
Steve watches as Eddie cautiously makes his way to the fridge once he’s done, looking to Steve with his his hand on the door, a question on his face, Steve nods, “yeah.”
Eddie opens the door, and Steve watches as he explores, carefully moving jars and condiments and stuff around, glass clinking quietly, before he opens the drawer at the bottom and pulls out a pear, carefully closing the drawer and door again after. He eats the whole thing, stalk, core, seeds, everything.
Steve washes up his dish, checking the time, “want to watch some TV?”
Eddie cocks his head, but follows Steve into the lounge. He sits, looking around, feeling the carpet under his hands, running his nails carefully through the pile until the TV catches his attention.
He moves closer. And then closer again, making Steve laugh when he taps a nail on the curved glass of the screen.
“I’m going to go shower, you shouldn't sit so close, it’s bad for your eyes.”
Robin does her make up in the car on the way over to Family Video, “how’s Eddie?”
“I’m fine, thanks for asking, it really means a lot to me, how much you care about my well being.”
She sighs through her nose and rolls her eyes, and Steve tuts at her.
“He came in the house this morning, I left him watching TV.”
“Huh. I mean normally I would say it’ll rot his brain but, something for him to do would be good, right?”
“Yeah. And if I’m getting a job, we should try and teach him to use the walkie’s at least. In case there’s like an emergency or something.”
“A fruit and veg related emergency.”
“Yeah, kind of. We really need to figure out what to do with him, he can’t just sit in my pool forever.”
She hums in agreement.
It’s just starting to rain when Steve gets home, the first break in the nearly two weeks of sunny weather they’ve been having.
Probably won’t be sharing a beer with Eddie tonight then. Well, Steve hasn’t really been sharing, he’s been letting Eddie steal the last third of a bottle, which isn’t really the same thing.
Eddie’s actually sitting on on the couch when Steve gets in, which surprises him momentarily. There’s an empty container on the cushion next to him, Steve figures he found the grapes.
“Hey.”
Eddie turns to see him, smiling, clearly pleased to see him, which is a nice change of pace. Sure he knows Robin loves him, but she’s never actually openly really happy to see him unless she’s, like, drunk or high. And the kids. Steve knows they must at least kind of like him, but they’re all just little shits. Having someone to come home to who is genuinely pleased to see him is a really nice change of pace.
“It just started raining.”
“Raiiniing.”
“Yeah,” Steve points at the window, “uhm, wet. Uhm. Sky wet.”
“Et.”
“Yeah.”
Eddie’s eyes widen suddenly, scrabbling off the couch in clear panic, “Et! Et!”
“Yeah Buddy, what’s wrong-”
Eddie’s frantically slithering across the lounge carpet with what is a truly amazing turn of speed considering his anatomy, “et inied! Book! NO! NO!”
“Oh, shit! Your book,” Steve hops over Eddie’s tail, making it to the door and then sprinting across the grass, grabbing the book and bringing it back.
Eddie’s sitting in the door way, hands clasped together, watching anxiously, “it’s not so bad, just a little damp.” Steve holds the book out to show him where drops of rain have speckled the pages, “it’s not bad.”
“Not bad. Good,” but he’s still frowning, clearly concerned where the paper is discolored by the water.
“Wait,” Eddie does as he’s told as Steve runs upstairs for the hair dryer, plugging it in in the lounge and sitting on the floor, Eddie joining him with the book. “Here, feel,” he turns it on, pointing it Eddie’s way.
Eddie sticks his fingers towards it, and then pulls the back, startled. Then he does it again before watching Steve dry the pages of the book, “dry. Et inied.”
“That’s right buddy.”
“Stee Edidie budidy.”
“That’s right. Yeah.”
Eddie sits next to Steve watching nervously as Steve gets the final pages dried off, and Steve hands the book back.
Eddie grins, “thanks Birdidie,” and then darts forward to press his lips to Steve’s cheek. It's just a press, not a real kiss.
“Oh,” and then Steve chuckles when he realizes what’s happened, the behavior that Eddie's seen and is now mimicking, “no. Uhm. Thank you Steve.”
Eddie cocks his head.
“Wait, wait,” Steve takes the hair dryer with him, heading up the stairs again, and this time coming back with a handful of Polaroids, he shuffles them into a neat stack, sitting next to Eddie on the floor. “Right, this is Robin. Birdie.”
“Thanks Birdidie.”
“Yeah, that’s right, that’s Birdie, now,” Steve shuffles through, “Max,” he says pointing, “and El.”
“El. Max.”
It’s thirty minutes and two pears later, but Eddie seems to be able to identify everyone reliably from their photographs, “no, Dustin.”
“Dust bin,” Eddie replies, confidently.
“You know what, sure, dust bin. Let’s go with that. Kind of suits him, actually.”
Steve’s drinking his evening beer. The weather much better again today, but the evenings are drawing in, and the sun set has almost taken Steve by surprise with how early it’s painting the sky pink. Summer’s coming to a close. Which brings some urgency to the question; what are they going to do with Eddie? The pool isn’t heated, and it usually gets drained and covered for the winter months. It’ll definitely freeze over at some point if they leave it open like this, and there’s no way Eddie could survive that, could he?
Steve doesn’t know. There’s just too much they don’t know about Eddie.
Steve’s got his first shift at Family Video tomorrow, a closing shift with the manager, Keith. Apparently he wants to show Steve the ropes when it comes to shutting down the store; Steve figures just from that that he’s going to be stuck with more than his fair share of late shifts.
He wonders if Eddie’s going to miss his evening beer. He really should teach Eddie to use a walkie. Tomorrow, he decides, will be as good a time as any. Tomorrow morning, and then Steve can leave one with Eddie and take one to work with him.
At least he knows Eddie can get into the house if he really has to, if he gets hungry or whatever. He really could do with some sort of cover out here though. Some where to leave his book in case of the rain. Maybe put a couple of towels in there, some food in the cool box when Steve’s out, the walkie, that sort of stuff.
Eddie swims over, pushing his floating toy bucket along ahead of him in the water. There are things in it tonight, which is a first. Eddie puts his bucket on the side of the pool before pulling himself out to sit beside Steve.
He pulls something out of his bucket to show to Steve, “oh, it’s a pine cone. Hold on.” Steve puts his beer down to grab the encyclopedia, and Eddie duly swipes it. Steve flicks through the book wile Eddie sips the beer, “look, this is a tree.”
“Tee.”
“Tree.”
“Trrreeee.”
“Yeah, it’s a seed for a tree,” Steve shows Eddie the series of pictures, how the seed underground grows a little shoot that grows, eventually, into a tree.
Eddie fetches something else from his bucket, showing Steve, “trree?”
“Leaf,” Steve points at the leaf in Eddie’s hand, then, “tree,” as he points to the tree line at the bottom edge of the yard.
Eddie’s frowning at the page in the book, but he does nod, so Steve doesn’t push it any further.
“Steve do you know how early it is.”
“I know, but I don’t care, do you still have that tent you were playing around with last summer?”
“Camping, Steve, I went camping with-what do you want it for, anyway?”
“It’s for Eddie.”
“Oh, yeah,” Dustin’s tone changes to immediately helpful, “yeah, do you want to come and get it? I’m pretty sure I still have it-MAAAAA! MAAAAAAA DO YOU KNOW-”
Steve pulls the receiver away from his head while Dustin's hollering at his poor mother.
“Yeah, we know where it is, you coming now?”
Eddie’s holding a piece of plastic tubing, looking concerned, and watching Steve struggle with the worlds smallest two man tent, “it’s okay, I got this.”
Eddie tilts his head one way and then the other, like a curious bird, as Steve struggles. It takes a couple of failed attempts, not helped by the fact that Dustin couldn’t find the instructions, but it doesn’t take that long before the tent is ready. Steve sets it on the grass, the doorway edge butted up against the tiles that surround the pool edge. Steve fixes the guy ropes using metal tent pegs driven into the lawn. It’s not hugely spacious inside, just big enough to accommodate two medium sized dudes when lying down, just as long as those two medium sized dudes are super comfortable with each other, then it’s fine.
Steve goes backward and forward, lining the bottom with a couple of sleeping mats he also borrowed from Dustin, and then putting in a couple of towels, Eddie’s book, and rescuing the Rubik's cube and slinkie from where they've lain, ignored, on the side of the pool, “there, what do you think?”
Eddie moves closer, cautiously looking inside before looking back to Steve, “yeah, good. Go in, it's okay,” Steve nods and smiles and generally tries to be encouraging.
Eddie goes inside before turning to look out, sitting on his tail.
Steve sits in the doorway, “it’ll keep your book dry.”
Eddie ponders that a moment, touching his book, before looking up. He carefully touches the inside of the tent roof, “et inied?”
“Yeah buddy, that’s right. Good.”
Part six
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atomicami · 1 year ago
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comfort crowd
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boyfriend’s mom!abby anderson x fem!reader
- summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend for 2 years now, until all of a sudden he starts to act differently around you. one night, you come over to his place to see him, only to discover that he’s out cheating on you with another girl. as a result, you receive comfort from the person you’d least expect—his mother.
- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, older/milf!abby, age gap (reader is 20, abby is 38), reader is in college, owen (he is mentioned a lot but does not make an appearance), mentions of past teen pregnancy, abby and owen are divorced, infidelity/cheating, reader has her first intimate experience with a woman, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, scissoring, slight edging, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else
- author’s note: it’s finally here, sorry this one took me so long…i’ve been a bit nervous to do this pairing but it did win the poll i posted a while back so yeah…i also have to say that this fic took a lot of work and effort for me to write out, so i really hope y’all enjoy it 🤍
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You were wishing that your suspicions about your boyfriend weren’t true.
A little over two years ago was when you first met Andrew Anderson-Moore. It was during your senior year of high school and your family had just moved to the city as a result of a job offer that your father had received. Having to start over at a new school was scary for you, but meeting Andrew made that experience a little better.
The two of you connected instantly, and it didn’t take long for you both to start dating and make it official. On your first month anniversary of being together, you two decided to introduce each other to your families. You brought Andrew to meet both of your parents first, and he brought you to meet his dad first before meeting his mom a week later.
Now you’re in your third year of college, still maintaining your loyalty towards him, and you still keep in touch with his parents as well, preferably with his mom, Abigail.
You enjoyed being with Abigail just as much as you did with your boyfriend. She was always so attentive and caring towards you, she treated you as if you were her own. Ever since Andrew had introduced you to her, you’d always make sure to be formal towards her no matter what, even though she could truly care less about it.
“Hi, Ms. Anderson, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell her kindly, removing yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace to shake her hand.
She flashes a smile back at you as she shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart, there’s no need to be so formal though,” she tells you.
“Oh I’m sorry, Abigail—“
“Abby.” She corrects you. “Abby is just fine.”
You simply nod at her in response.
“Alright then, Abby.”
After dinner had passed that day, and you were bringing all the dishes to the sink to wash them, you ended up overhearing Abby say this to her son:
“Make sure you treat her well, Andrew. She’s a sweet girl, definitely a keeper.”
Even though you figured that Abby would be nothing more to you than your boyfriend’s mother, the way she said that to Andrew made you feel unusual inside…But you figured that you were feeling that way simply because it was just a genuine compliment from her.…right?
Since that day, you’ve been close with Abby since then, and Andrew has managed to treat you like royalty.
That is…until a couple of weeks ago when he arrived back from a guy’s trip with his father. You began to take note of the suspicious behavior he’s been having towards you lately. The way he’d hide his phone when he’s around you, how he’d avoid eye contact with you when you ask him about things, and how he’d leave every so often without telling you. It eventually got to the point where you needed to go and address it to him.
And that’s how you got here right now: sitting in your car in the driveway of his mom’s house on a gloomy Saturday night.
You muster up the courage to grab your bag and exit your car before locking it and walking the few steps over to the front door. After taking a deep breath, you step forward and knock on the door. Hoping it would be him answering the door, you’re quick to see Abby answer it instead. “Hey sweetheart,” she says to you. “What are you doing here so late?”
You look up to see Abby looking down at you with a soft smile. She was still in her scrubs with her white coat in her other hand, and with a bunch of little blonde flyaways sticking out of her hair. It looked like she had just gotten back from her shift at the hospital.
“Oh, Ms. Anderson…I was wondering if Andrew was here, by any chance? I need to talk to him about something.” you ask her, praying the answer would be what you’d expect it to be.
Abby let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart…Owen dropped him off this morning and he left the house right before I was about to leave for work. I honestly thought he’d be spending the day with you today.”
Although Andrew was an adult now, he still managed to make visits between his mom and dad. Abby and Owen have been divorced for years now, but at the very beginning, they were once dating as high school sweethearts. It wasn’t until Abby had gotten pregnant from him during her senior year, and as a result, he’d figured the best and most traditional way was for them to get married after graduation.
Things were good for the couple so far…until one day, shortly after Andrew’s first birthday, Abby had gotten home early from school only to find her husband in bed with another woman, which instantly led to them getting divorced with joint custody of their son. She felt like she should’ve been hurt and heartbroken about that, but for some reason she just…didn’t. It was almost as if she was falling out of love with Owen anyway, and his cheating was just the sign for her to divorce him.
Even though Abby was the victim in that situation, she didn’t want to tell Andrew about it so as to not damage his relationship with his father. Instead, she made sure to raise him to be a loyal, trustworthy man, just so he wouldn’t end up turning out to be just like his father.
She raised him to make sure that he wouldn’t end up hurting you.
You let out a sigh, looking over at your car before back at her. “Alright, um, I’ll just head out, then…”
As you were about to leave, you felt Abby’s hand gently grab your shoulder, causing you to turn around. “Hold on, um…would you like to come inside? I can’t have you driving around in this awful weather, maybe you can just wait for him in the meantime, yeah?”
You hesitated for a moment, but to be fair, Abby did have a point. It’s been storming so much these days, and based on the few drops you felt land on your shoulder, it seemed like it was going to happen again tonight.
You give Abby a nod, accepting her offer. She steps over to the side, clearing the way for you to enter inside before closing the door behind you.
“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Abby offers, gesturing you towards her couch. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and order some takeout if you’d like? I uh, don’t plan on doing anything tonight…” she continues, stuffing her hands in her pockets.
You nod back at her and set your bag down on the couch before sitting yourself down. “That’s alright with me…Thanks again, Ms. Anderson.”
“Abby, sweetheart,” she replies, correcting you.
“Right, thank you, Abby.”
You watch as she turns around and heads upstairs to her room. Once the shower turns on, you can’t help but get a feeling of deja vu passing through you, remembering that certain day like it was yesterday.
Now, the thought of being with a woman never really crossed your mind, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but find Abby to be so…attractive. You assumed it was just a silly little crush and set it aside because there was no way that Abby would see you as anything more than her son’s girlfriend.
But it wasn’t until about a month ago, that you decided to spend the night at Andrew’s place. It was around 1 am, and you had left Andrew’s bedroom to use the bathroom. As you were just about to go in, you couldn’t help but peek into Abby’s room as you were passing by.
The door of her bathroom was creaked open, the shower was currently running, and while Abby was undressing herself from her scrubs, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixed on her figure. Her back, her arms, her hands…you were feeling so attracted to her, to where a wave of arousal was hitting you instantly. You were getting so turned on by her in the way that you should be feeling towards her son instead.
Your gaze kept lingering on her, but once you noticed her blue eyes locking with yours, you quickly rushed back to Andrew’s room. This led you to have to wake up your boyfriend just to have sex with him, all with the sinful thoughts of his mother on your mind.
And even though neither you nor Abby brought up that incident the next morning, she had a strong feeling that those sounds that you were making that night were meant for her.
The sound of thunder startles you. You look out the window to see that it has already begun pouring outside. You were definitely going to be here for a while now, but you didn’t mind it. Abby always provided good company to you anyway.
You watch as the rain keeps pattering down, hitting the glass of the window. Your hand feels the vibration of your phone followed by a chime, causing you to look down at your screen and check the notification you just received.
Abby shuts off the water in the shower once she’s finished, making sure to keep it quick so as to not leave you waiting for so long. She then quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants before shutting off the lights and leaving her bedroom.
As Abby began to head downstairs, she could hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the living room. It sounded like you were crying. This led to her rushing even quicker now to the living room, walking in to see you quietly crying, your dimly lit phone in one hand while your face was buried in the other, collecting all of your tears.
Concerned, she slowly began to approach you. “Hey, hey sweetheart…what’s the matter?” she asks calmly, sitting down next to you on the couch and placing a hand on your shoulder.
All you could do was shake your head in response. You were so choked up on your tears that you couldn’t even speak. You felt Abby get closer to you, trying to take a look at what was on your phone. You quickly hid it away from her, but it was too late. She had already caught a glimpse of the familiar figure that was on the screen.
Her hand makes contact with yours, trying to get ahold of your phone. “Let me see,” she tells you in a commanding, yet gentle tone.
You couldn’t help but give in, slowly loosening your grip on your phone, now letting her have it in her possession. Once the phone was in her hands she took a closer look at the screen, eyes widening in shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what was seeing right now.
It was a picture of Andrew, her son, out at a party, with his lips attached to another girl’s, that clearly wasn’t his girlfriend.
Abby was just as shocked as you were. But she wasn’t just shocked. She was enraged, enraged at the fact that her own son had gone behind your back and hurt you like this. You were the sweetest, kindest soul she’d ever met, how could he, or anyone manage to break your heart with no remorse whatsoever?
Along with that, Abby couldn’t help but feel disappointed either. She spent the past twenty years raising her son to not be a cheat like his father was. But at that moment, after seeing that photo and the state you are in right now, she felt like she failed as a mother.
At that moment, she wanted to make things right.
Not only that…she wanted to make you forget about her son and make up for how he treated you.
Abby sets your phone down and reaches for her own that was on the coffee table. You try to stop her from doing so, knowing that she is going to call her son right now. “I-I tried calling h-him,” you choked out, grabbing at her forearms. “H-He didn’t respond.”
Abby gently shakes your hands away from her arms and grabs her phone before quickly unlocking it. “He’ll respond to me, sweetheart, trust me,” she tells you sternly, getting up from the couch and making her way back upstairs to her room before closing the door.
She was definitely right about that. It didn’t take long for you to hear the muffled shouting coming out of Abby’s room. Even through the thick walls of her house, you could hear her clear as day:
“Andrew, what the hell were you thinking?! Your girlfriend is here in my house, worried sick about you and you’re at a fucking party cheating on her with another girl?! I didn’t raise you to be like this. If you wanna keep this act up, then go stay with your father, Andrew. I don’t want you coming back here until I say otherwise.”
Despite that Abby was in your defense about this, you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. You honestly wished you hadn’t come here in the first place. Even though it was storming harshly outside, you felt like the best thing was to just go home. This was the last place you wanted to be at right now.
Once Abby had finished talking on the phone, she then went back downstairs to the living room, only to see you heading towards the front door to leave. She quickly stops you before your hand grabs the doorknob. “Hey, where are you going? I told you it’s too dangerous for you to drive out there right now.”
You ignore her and make the effort to push her away and get to the door, but her strong figure wouldn’t budge at all. “I-I need to go, Ms. Anderson, I can’t—“ Your words get cut off as Abby begins to wrap her arms around you, enclosing your surroundings into a hug.
You couldn’t help but give in to her embrace, burying your face into her chest and sobbing into it, instantly staining the soft cotton of her shirt with your tears. The way you were acting right now was hurting Abby inside. It hurt her to know that her son was the one that caused your heart to break into a million pieces, especially knowing how much you loved him. She was willing to do anything right now to take that pain away from you.
“Listen, sweetheart…” She says, slightly pulling away to get a look at you. “I told Andrew to stay at Owen’s in the meantime, okay? You don’t have to worry about him coming here.” she takes another deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t raise my son to be like this, sweetheart…I’m sorry.”
You look up at her and shake your head in response. “I-It’s okay, Ms. Anderson, it’s not your fault…”
The warmth from one of her hands reaches your face, wiping the tears off of your cheeks “I’d like you to stay here for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out in that storm and getting hurt…I can’t afford to lose what my son couldn’t keep.”
It was clear that Abby didn’t mean for that last sentence to slip, and she didn’t notice that she was thinking out loud until she saw your eyes widen in shock. You couldn’t help but wonder if Abby was having those same feelings towards you as well…
Your gaze shifts away for a second, and you quickly wipe the rest of your tears before looking back up at her. “As much as I’d like to, Ms. Anderson…I really don’t want to be here right now…Everything here just reminds me of him…”
You notice Abby hesitate for a moment. “Do you, uh, want to go to my room instead? Will that help?” she says, practically trying not to sound desperate. She resisted the need to beg for it, but if that was convincing enough for you to stay with her, she would be on her knees in an instant.
“Yeah…That would be a lot better, actually…”
Abby’s arm moves down to the small of your back before keeping you close to her side as you follow her upstairs to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Before you go in, you couldn’t help but turn your head at the room you had just passed—Andrew’s bedroom. You were already thinking about having to eventually go in there and take your things out of his room. The thought of it was already making you sick.
Abby places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to get slightly startled before looking up at her. “You know you don’t have to go in there yet, right?” she assures you, squeezing your shoulder. “I can even get your things out of his room if you need me to.”
You simply nod and smile back at her as a silent ‘thank you’ before turning the knob of her bedroom and letting yourself in.
Upon entering, you realize how much Abby’s room differs from her son’s. Her room was painted in a shade of light blue, her bed was neatly made just as she had it in the morning. On your left, there was her dresser followed by some weights next to it, and on your right was the entrance to her bathroom. That same bathroom you had peeked into not that long ago.
“Your room is nice,” you tell her, your eyes still fixed on your surroundings. “Definitely a lot nicer than Andrew’s.”
Abby lets out a chuckle from behind. “Yeah, I know, he’s always been so unorganized.” she then hesitates for a moment before continuing. “However, there’s always been something in his room that mine doesn’t have…”
You slowly turn around to face her, noticing her starting to approach you. “What’s that?”
She stops in her tracks once she’s in front of you, gently placing her hand on your chin and lifting it up so you can see her.
“…you.”
A smile crept up on your face in reaction to her words. “Is that so? Well…”
You pause for a moment, looking at your surroundings before looking back up at her and leaning in, just close enough to where your lips were just inches away from hers.
“I like it better here anyway,” you whisper back to her.
And with that, Abby gives in and seals your words with a kiss, and you just can’t help but kiss her back. The both of you knew that this was wrong, Abby was your boyfriend’s mother for Christ’s sake.
But if it’s such a bad thing, why did it feel so good for the two of you?
You feel Abby’s hand in front of you, slightly pushing you back so you can sit down on her bed. Once you land on her bed, she drops down to her knees to your height, still maintaining her lips with yours before pulling them away momentarily to strip you down.
Her hands first meet with the hem of your shirt, gently tugging it upwards to get it off. You bring your hands up as she fully discards you from your shirt and toss it to the ground. As she now works on getting your jeans off, you unhook your bra and slowly remove it before tossing it next to your shirt.
Abby looks up for a moment, only for her gaze to linger at the mere sight of your topless self. “My god…” she says in awe, moving both of her hands to your tits. “You look so beautiful…I can’t believe he gets to see this…gets to touch this…”
With her hands still cupping your tits, she leans in to kiss one of them, causing a moan to escape from your mouth. One of her hands moves back to the button of your jeans, and she instantly gets them undone with just a single hand. Her mouth is soon off of your nipple followed by her other hand, now hardened just from the contact of her lips and fingers. You were easily getting so turned on by her, and she knew it.
However, now that your jeans were gone and your underwear was shifted to the side, you couldn’t help but stop her once she was about to dive in between your legs. “W-Wait…” you said, gently pushing her head away from your soaked cunt.
Abby paused her movements immediately, pulling her head away and looking up at you. “What? What is it?” she asks with some slight concern in her voice.
You hesitate for a moment. You genuinely don’t know how you’re going to be able to confess this to her.
“You, um…you don’t have to do it, i-if you don’t want to—“
“But I want to,” she replied firmly, instantly cutting off the rest of your words. “Do you not want me to?”
You shake your head quickly in response. “N-No, I do, I really do, I just thought—“
“Thought what? What did you think?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
It didn’t take long for Abby to get the message. She knew why you were being so hesitant about this. To her, it felt like she was one step away from finally being able to not only taste you but to give you the pleasure that you deserved. But to you, you couldn’t help but simply feel like a burden to her, just like how it was with her son.
“Wait a minute…Has Andrew not been doing this to you?”
Your gaze drifts off to the side, and she takes your lack of eye contact as a yes to her question.
Each of her hands was on your knees, and you could feel her tighten her grip on them a bit, but not to the point where it would hurt you. And even though you were looking away from her, you could see her shake her head in disbelief from the corner of your eye.
“I can’t believe him…” she mutters to herself with a sigh. “He really is just like his father.”
The warmth of her hand makes contact with the side of your face, tilting it back forward to face her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart…please let me make up for my son’s actions…let me give you the pleasure that you deserve. Will you let me do that? Please?”
You hesitate once again. The thought of having Abby give you even the slightest bit of pleasure felt overwhelming to you, but the fact that she was quite literally on her knees begging to do it to you turned you on even more. If anything, Abby was being more desperate than you were right now.
So you give in this time.
“Y-yes…” you whisper out quietly to her. “Go ahead…”
And with that, Abby’s hands meet together at the waistband of your underwear, fully pulling them down and off of your legs before spreading them even farther than before.
Her lips gently brush over your sensitive clit to kiss it, and the sudden contact causes you to involuntarily jerk back. You didn’t mean to do it, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched before, that even the slightest touch on your pussy already makes you feel overstimulated.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby coos, gently squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to her face. “I’ve got you, just lie back and relax for me, sweetheart, okay? Nice and slow…”
You try your best to keep your cool right now, and even Abby tries to as well. It’s clearly taking everything in her to not just quickly dive into your pussy and devour you alive. But she knows how long it’s been for you. She knows that your body hasn’t been worshipped the way that it should be.
“God….you taste so good…sweetest little thing I’ve ever had…” she murmurs into your pussy, slowly increasing the speed of her fingers.
You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the sight of Abby right now. Andrew was never willing to even put his mouth near your pussy, while his mother here was on her knees eating you like a woman starved.
“Mmmh, g-go faster, please…” you quietly whine out to her, grinding your hips against both of her thick fingers that were inside you.
You didn’t need to say anything else for Abby to instantly obey your command. Her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy even faster than before. They were going in so deep to the point where the tip of her middle finger easily tapped into your g spot, and you absolutely loved it.
Before you knew it, Abby’s fingers and mouth were going at an extremely rapid pace inside you, so fast to the point where you were gripping onto the edge of the bed to hold yourself down.
That feeling was quickly building up inside you now, you were going to cum at any moment. However, something about that feeling felt unusual to you. It was almost as if you needed to stop what she was doing to you.
So you do. You try to warn her, even grab at her wrist to slow down.
“A-Abby, wait—oh God—fuck!”
As much as you tried, you couldn’t warn her in time. Your body had already done its deed, your pussy uncontrollably squirting into her mouth and on her fingers as you reached your peak. The rest of your body felt limp, and your brain was feeling slightly fuzzy from your orgasm.
You felt Abby shift around in between your legs to stand back up, which led you to muster up the energy to sit up on the bed. Your eyes widen at the mess you’ve just created. Everything—Abby’s face, her clothes, her sheets, your legs—was all soaked with your release.
You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it, quickly closing up your legs and bringing your knees to your face. “A-Abby, I’m so sorry I—I didn’t mean to do that…I tried to—“
“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart…Don’t feel bad…” she murmurs out to you, gently caressing your face with one hand while bringing both of your knees back down with the other. “Did it feel good?”
You nod slowly as she looks back down at you. “Yes, it did…Better than—”
“Better than him, right?”
“Yeah. Better than him.”
A smile flashes on Abby’s face as she leans in to kiss your lips, letting you taste a bit of yourself in the process. “Then you shouldn’t be sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you as she pulls away. “Lie down on the back of the bed, princess. I'm not done with you just yet.”
You simply oblige, sitting yourself up and scooting to the back of her bed, lying your head down on top of her pillows that were stacked in front of the headboard. You watch as Abby wipes her face and licks her fingers clean before stripping herself out of her clothes. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but admire her broad, muscular figure. And it wasn't just her figure, it was just everything about her. Her bright blue eyes, her freckled skin, her luscious blond hair…You just felt so mesmerized by her. You felt an attraction to her that just couldn’t compete with Andrew at all.
Your eyes follow her movements as she leans down over her bottom bedside drawer and opens it for a moment before shaking her head and closing it. It didn’t take much for you to be able to see the strap she owned, alongside the few other toys she had in there.
The weight of the bed soon shifts down as she hovers herself over you. “Are you…are you not gonna fuck me?” you ask her quietly.
Abby nods her head as she adjusts the pillows on the back of your head to make you feel more comfortable. “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, just not with those,” she says as she shifts back and begins to position herself in between your legs. “I'm gonna fuck you in a way that no man, not even my own son, could ever do with you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”
You nod quickly, eager to find out how she’s going to do this. However, you didn’t know what to do about it either. “Wait, but how do I—”
“You don’t have to do anything, okay princess? All you have to do is just look pretty for me while I do the work. Lie back and relax for me, just like before, yeah?”
You nod again, resting your upper body back on the bed as Abby continues to maneuver herself over you. She lifts up one of your legs and places it over her shoulder, and then brings her free hand down to her pussy and spreads her lips open with two of her fingers. You could easily see that she was just as wet as you were right now.
She then places her wet pussy on top of yours and you easily gasp at the newfound feeling of it. The way her lips molded perfectly against yours, along with how her arousal was practically dripping on top of your tight hole had you reeling.
“Oh fuck,” Abby mutters out, further pressing herself down on top of you. “Your pussy feels even better against me like this.”
Abby begins to grind her pussy against yours, causing you to moan over the friction. You understand that Abby wants to take her time with you right now, but God was she being so painfully slow with this. You were desperately craving for some more friction already, but you felt too shy to tell her. So you end up weakly grinding your hips instead.
“Whoa there,” Abby says, placing a hand on your hip to keep you steady. “Looks like someone’s eager for more…You want me to go faster, princess? Is that what you want?”
“Y-Yes, p-please Abby…g-go faster…” you whine out to her, continuing to grind against her pussy.
“Needy girl…” she mutters as she increases her pace. “Not even a minute with my pussy and she already wants more…I bet it feels better than any cock you’ve ever had, hm?”
All you could do at this point was babble and whine in response. The feeling of Abby’s wet cunt against yours was getting you easily drunk. You look down and watch Abby place a thumb on your hood, lifting it to expose your throbbing clit to her. She then placed her clit right on top of yours before grinding even faster than before.
The sudden overstimulation caused your eyes to flutter themselves shut and your head to tilt back in pleasure against the stack of pillows behind you. Your body soon starts to feel limp again and the familiar fuzziness in your brain soon returns again. At this point, Abby was practically using your pussy to get herself off. But as long as you kept feeling the delicious friction of her clit rubbing against yours, you didn’t mind at all.
Abby suddenly tightens her grip on your leg, leading you to open your eyes and look back at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration with her gaze fixed on both pussies. You could hear her quietly whimpering to herself while the muscles in her abdomen were contracting and tensing up as she kept quickly grinding herself against your pussy.
At first, you couldn’t tell what she was trying to do with herself. But it didn’t take you too long to realize why her body was doing these things.
Abby was waiting for you to cum first.
You were at a loss for words at the moment. Andrew never cared about that. He would always be done the second he’d finish, meanwhile, Abby was sacrificing her own pleasure just to make you cum a second time.
“A-Are you close, sweetheart?” Abby moans out to you, keeping her hands firm against you as she continues to rub her pussy onto yours.
“Y-Yes, fuck—” you whimper back as you begin to quickly grind your hips against hers. “D-don't stop, Abby…m’so close…”
At this point, the noises that the two of you were making right now were borderline pornographic. Between your moans and whines with Abby’s grunts, along with the wet squelching sound of both of your pussies rubbing against one another, it's honestly surprising how you haven’t woken up the neighbors by now.
“Fuck, Abby—'m gonna cum, fuck!” you tell her as you grip the bedsheets while continuing to rub your clit with hers.
Within seconds, your pussy began to quickly clench around Abby’s while instantly cumming right on top of it. Once Abby felt that you were emptied out, she soon let her body relax before cumming onto your pussy as well with a broken moan.
Once the both of you have recovered from each other's climaxes, Abby presses a soft kiss to your ankle before gently getting your leg off of her shoulder and setting it back down.
Feeling drunk from your orgasm, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, hardly feeling the movements of Abby cleaning you up and tucking you into a fresh set of sheets. Your eyes open back up again once Abby has her arm wrapped around you from behind. “Abby, that was…that felt amazing..” you whisper out to her.
Abby lets out a chuckle before gently kissing the back of your shoulder. “I’m glad I could make up for it, sweetheart,” she whispers back to you.
You turn your head around for a moment to face her. “Are you sure I can spend the night here with you?” you ask her shyly.
Abby smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before responding. “Of course you can, sweetheart…you know I told him not to come back,” she reassures you, gently caressing the side of your face with her hand. “You’re in good hands with me, I promise.”
You smile at her before turning back around and pressing yourself closer to her as she keeps you tightly wrapped in her embrace. The security that Abby was giving you right now was more than enough to make you instantly drift off to sleep, secretly wishing that the night that you’d spent with your boyfriend’s mother could now last a lifetime.
And little did you know, Abby was also wishing the same thing too.
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clockwayswrites · 5 months ago
Text
City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 18
masterpost
“You’re still here.”
Danny hated that he said that.
Of course Bruce was still there if he was sitting at the table, coffee raised halfway to his mouth. Danny didn’t need to state the obvious like that, especially not to someone like Bruce Wayne. Since apparently Bruce Wayne was Batman. But, it was just that… Bruce was still there.
The morning light was drifting through the window, bright compared to the rain of yesterday. Danny had woken up back in the apartment, slipped away from Hood with a soft explanation he was hungry, and there Bruce was. It was a new day and Bruce was still there.
Bruce set his coffee down and smiled. It was a little crooked and slightly uncertain.
It was Danny’s own smile.
“Morning, chum,” Bruce said. His voice was rough with sleep, the letters almost seemed to catch on each other. Clearly Bruce wasn’t a morning person either. “Are they letting you have coffee yet and do you want any?”
Danny stepped fully into the main living space. “Only a cup and not with any sugar. I can have cream though.”
Bruce nodded and stood. “How much cream?”
“Oh, I can get it—” Danny said quickly, jolting forward a step.
“It’s not a problem, Danny. Go ahead and take a seat,” Bruce said with a little wave to the table. He grabbed one of the cups from the drying rack and held it up in question.
Danny pouted for just a moment before he relented and headed for the table. “About a quarter cream, since I can’t have sugar.”
Bruce nodded and made up the coffee. When he came back to the table he brought the plate of muffins Hood had made with him and set it in the middle of the table. Danny waited for Bruce to sit before he pulled the coffee close to him, cradling it for the warmth.
The apartment was silent for a time as they both drank their coffee and Danny started on a muffin. He unwrapped it before turning it upside down and starting to pick at the bottom first. When he noticed Bruce’s curious gaze he ducked his head with a little shrug.
“The top is the best bit, so I save it for last. My p— they… no one cooked much at h—where I grew up.”
“That’s smart,” Bruce said, thankfully ignoring the rest of Danny’s stumbling words. “Jason learned a lot of what he cooks from Alfred, though he’s expanded his flavor combinations since he’s lived on his own.”
“He’s good. It’s been really nice,” Danny said. He hesitated before asking, “Who’s Alfred?”
Bruce smiled fondly. “Officially my butler, but he’s the man who raised me after my parents died.”
“He’s the real head of the house,” Red— Tim said through a yawn as he stumbled into the room. He looked at the table with the two of them and the muffins before he just made some sort of strangled noise and dropped onto the couch that was still made up as a bed.
“Tim is right,” Bruce said, unconcerned by the fact his son seemed asleep again. “Alfred does his best to keep us all in line. I know he’s looking forward to meeting you, once you’re ready to come be at the Manor.”
Danny jolted, a chunk of muffin crushed suddenly between his fingers. “The Manor?”
Bruce set his mug down slowly. “Once you’re ready, of course. There’s no rush for you to move, we all want you to be comfortable first.”
“No, I mean, just… you’d want me there? At your home?”
Bruce’s whole face softened sadly. It was in little ways, but Bruce’s face was one Danny could read easily. It felt almost invasive how much Danny could see in Bruce’s too familiar eyes.
“Danny, I get that… it might take you time to accept it, but I meant it yesterday: I would love to have you in my family. The others were right to keep me away before because you asked to not meet me yet, but if you hadn’t, they would have brought you home that night. You’ve been family since you found us.”
“They found me,” Danny whispered. He was worried if he said much more, if he thought much more about Bruce’s words, that he would start crying again.
“You got to Gotham— you got to where we could find you,” Bruce said, “and that was very, very brave of you.”
Danny sniffled and wiped at his eyes. Okay, so maybe he was crying again.
“What did you do to him, old man?” Hood snapped, voice still heavily with sleep.
Danny shook his head. “N-nothing. He— he wants me to go to the manor.”
The resulting silence gave Danny enough time to get his tears mostly under control, though he still accepted the tissue Hood handed up as he crouched down by Danny’s chair.
“You don’t have to go, if you don’t want,” Hood said.
Oh he was making a mess of this, of course he was. “No! I do! I just… I just didn’t think I’d get a home again.”
“You’ve got lots of homes now, Dandelion,” Hood said, his words a soft rumble. “You’ve got the Manor and my place and Dick’s place. And I’m pretty sure you could weasel out of Tim access to his place we all pretend he doesn’t have that he goes to when he needs space.”
“Fuck you,” Tim mumbled into the pillow.
Danny clutched desperately at Hood’s sleeve. “Will you come to the Manor? Just… just at first?”
Hood’s whole face softened. “Course, kid. We all still have rooms there. We’ll have to do it like here, where we change around some so we can keep looking after the city, but I’ll still be around lots until you settle.”
“All of my kids are always welcome, whenever they want,” Bruce said in a purposeful sort of way.
Hood gave a little snort. “Yeah… anyways, I’m not letting you just eat muffins. What sort of egg do you want?”
Danny made himself let go of Hood’s sleeve. “Scrambled, please.”
“Timbit?”
“Smfts.”
“Sure. Bruce?”
“Scrambled is good,” Bruce said softly.
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AN: You al voted so here is the first chunk of the chapter! Lots of little gentle ways Danny being there is helping heal the rest of the family that hopefully you all can see, even if Danny doesn't.
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