#feels good that my top five posts were all stories

[cozy-the-overlord]

I posted 1,373 times in 2022

391 posts created (28%)

982 posts reblogged (72%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cozy-the-overlord

@naterson

@gaitwae

@lokislittlesigyn

@elly-hiddlesherloki

I tagged 1,298 of my posts in 2022

Only 5% of my posts had no tags

#cozy reblog - 785 posts

#thanks for the ask :) - 167 posts

#writing things - 111 posts

#cozy writes - 108 posts

#taylor swift - 102 posts

#self reblog - 100 posts

#friends - 94 posts

#ask me things pls i'm bored - 86 posts

#loki marvel - 74 posts

#loki fanfic - 69 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#wasn’t going to reblog but then i read ‘now that larry looks to be on the horizon of replacing boris johnson as prime minister’ 😂😂😂😂😂

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Burning the Midnight Oil

Summary: You’re alone and miserable, up far too late losing your mind over an essay that isn’t even due tomorrow when Loki pops in with flowers.

Word Count: 1,858

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: So this is a reader fic, but also the reader is literally just me. I usually don’t like writing super obviously personal self-indulgent fluff, but I’ve had an incredibly shitty week and just ended up writing this in my notebook yesterday. This isn’t really edited, and it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense (like ... don’t question how Loki ended up dating a random college student), but it was therapeutic to write and I figured I might as well post it. Also, the line Loki reads aloud is from Sonnet 29, a poem that has absolutely nothing to do thematically with this story, but it’s my favorite sonnet and I wanted Loki to read it to me so don’t judge.

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Implied depression

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

Your back hurts.

Everything hurts, actually. These dorm-issued chairs are not designed with long-term comfort in mind, and you’ve been sitting here hunched at your desk for a while now, several hours at least. There had still been light streaming through your weather-beaten blinds when you first sat down to work, but the sun had long since faded beneath the horizon—in fact, if your roommate had been here, she probably would have asked you a while ago in her soft, amiable manner if it was okay if she turned off the big ceiling light, her polite way of telling you to get the fuck off your laptop and go to bed. But your roommate isn’t here—she’s staying over at her asshole damned-lucky-to-have-her boyfriend’s apartment, a last-minute decision that left you alone and unsupervised for the night.

You’re fine though. It’s good to have time to yourself. Hell, there was a time where the prospect of a night of solitude would send you jumping for joy. It’s just … well, you have a tendency of turning a vacant room into an echo chamber to your thoughts, and these days your thoughts haven’t exactly been the kind of thing you enjoy being alone with.

It doesn’t matter. Tonight, you’re fine—you have a distraction. This essay isn’t due until Friday, but you’ve determined to finish it tonight, and now you can’t go to bed until the final period has been typed. It’s a messy business, essay writing. All night, you’ve known nothing but the relentless back and forth between the brilliant spark of a fresh idea that leaves you feeling like a genius and the all-consuming urge to bash your laptop against the wall over and over and over again before you allow your professor to lay her eyes on the wretched piece. At the moment, you’re beginning to stumble back into the latter, but you force yourself to swallow your self-contempt and keep going. It doesn’t matter how awful it is, just that it’s finished. Then you can lie on your heating pad and fall asleep to the sound of a YouTube art video you’ve watched a million times before.

“What are you still doing up?”

You jump at the question, nearly knocking your computer from its precarious position perched on the edge of your desk. Loki reaches around you to steady it with one hand—the other is supporting a vase the size of your head blooming with vibrant daffodils.

“Forgive me,” he says. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You let out a breath that’s shakier than you intended. One would think that after nearly a year of dating a literal magic extraterrestrial man of myth, you wouldn’t even bat an eye at his habit of just … appearing, but there are still times when it makes your heart race.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to drop these off. I saw them earlier, and I know you said they were your favorite …” He trails off, motioning to the daffodils as he sets the vase on your desk. You inhale. He’s right—they are your favorites, and you find yourself smiling at the playful yellow buds, basking in a kind of warmth you’ve been lacking.

“They’re beautiful,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

Loki chuckles, somewhat sheepishly. “I had meant them as a surprise for when you awakened in the morning. I assumed you would have been asleep by now. What are you still doing up?”

“Oh.” The headache previously flushed away by the flowers returns. You gesture vaguely at your computer screen. “Essay.”

“Ah.” He nods, scanning the document over your shoulder. “Have you been working on this all night? You must be exhausted.”

“Eh.” You shrug, trying and failing to crack an easy grin. “I’m alright.” You don’t need to look at him to feel the concern in his gaze.

But to your relief, he doesn’t voice it. Instead, he moves to rub your shoulders, a gentle massage that you didn’t realize you had been fantasizing about. You let out a sigh, leaning back in the Chair of Agony and melting into his touch.

“May I ask what the topic is?”

“Oh.” You inhale. “Well, it’s about socially constructed gender roles in The Convent of Pleasure. Like, how they’re so pervasive that even characters actively attempting to break free of them struggle to separate what is truly natural and what society has deemed to be natural. And, you know, how that’s still a thing in today’s society.”

You’re talking too much. You know it, even as you sit there rattling off your thesis. But Loki sounds genuinely intrigued

“That’s fascinating.”

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104 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

#4

Taking Notes

Summary: You need a whiteboard. Loki offers to be of assistance.

Word Count: 1,926

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: This spawned when I was obsessively outlining my creative writing honors thesis and complaining that I needed a whiteboard, and @naterson jokingly suggested I write on Loki. This is very silly and ridiculous and not particularly good, but I finished it so I figured I might as well post it. I pictured this reader being the same as that in Burning The Midnight Oil, but this isn't a sequel or anything-- you don't need to read that to understand this.

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Shirtlessness? Loki is shirtless for most of this, but it’s all very silly and innocent-- nothing sexual

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

“Okay,” you say, and bite your lip. The marker is thinner than you expected it to be, but that doesn’t stop you from anxiously clicking the cap on and off and on and off again, the snapping noise blending into the backdrop of your notes-strewn dorm as you study your … canvas. “Are you ready?”

You can’t see Loki’s face from where he’s standing, face towards the wall and bare back to you, but you can tell he’s smirking. “As I’ll ever be, darling.” He stretches his arms out behind him, flexing the lean muscles of his shoulders, and chuckles at your soft inhale.

Cheeks aflame, you uncap the marker a final time and prepare to write.

Luckily your roommate is gone tonight, because you don’t think you would be able to explain this to her. You’re not even sure you can explain it to yourself. It had started when Loki arrived earlier this evening— it’s become an implicit understanding that he stay the night whenever your roommate is out, something you’re exceedingly grateful for (it spares you from the shame of having to admit you hate spending nights alone)—to find the unhinged chaos of a notorious procrastinator flying around the room, trying to do a month’s worth of work in two days.

“I need a whiteboard!” you had shouted at him, rummaging through your notes like a raccoon in a dumpster. The outline for your honors thesis was due at the end of the week, and there was too much to write, too much to keep track of, too much to see all at once. You had been violently suppressing the urge to go “fuck it” and just start writing on the wall above your bed.

Loki, for his part, had seem torn between confusion and amusement. “I beg your pardon?”

“A whiteboard!” You couldn’t find the scrap of paper with the character names you decided upon. “I need to write it all out so I can see it!”

Sometimes, you wonder what it would be like to have a normal boyfriend. How would a regular person have responded to such a dilemma? Suggest taping your notes to the wall, perhaps? Offer to help you organize everything? Certainly not smirk like a little gremlin with mischief in his eyes and purr, “Well, you could write it on me.”

Then again, you were the one who, after realizing that this was an offer put forth in the upmost sincerity, cocked your head to the side and said “okay.”

It had been goofy, the two of you rushing off to make a post-midnight Walgreens run for body markers (Loki had been fully prepared to let you scribble all over his back in Sharpie, but you had to draw the line somewhere), goofy in a fun, silly sort of way. It was cathartic—after so many hours stuffed away in your stuffy little dorm, the night air was fresh on your skin, and it felt good to giggle. But now, holding the marker just above his shoulder blades, you suddenly feel overwhelmed in a wave of self-consciousness.

“Don’t keep me waiting, darling,” Loki teases, but when you don’t answer he turns behind him to look at you. “Is something wrong?”

You hesitate. “This is weird.” You glance back up at him, not sure what you’re seeking. “This is weird, right?”

“Very,” he agrees. “But that doesn’t make it any less delightful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Me taking notes all over your back is delightful?”

“Of course!” Loki smiles. “Any moment spent with you is delightful.”

Oh. Well that’s just incredibly sweet. Your eyes drop to the floor, unable to hold his gaze nor stifle the grin spreading across your face.

He’s laughing at your reaction, but it’s a warm sound, so light and airy it makes you feel weightless. “Do you still wish to continue?”

You mumble a yes, toying with the marker cap as he turns back towards the wall. Goodness, his back. His back is so gorgeous. You feel slightly lascivious, just ogling him like this, but you can’t help yourself. He’s just so smooth. You want to run your fingers down his spine, trace the lines of his body beneath your hands. You’ll never get over how soft his skin is. You love lying in bed with him, head on his chest, drawing circles on his stomach with your finger as he sleepily plays with your hair.

But enough of that thought.

Loki twitches when you write the first letter, and you pull back in an instinctual panic.

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109 notes - Posted September 9, 2022

#3

A Friend From Work

Summary: Loki pops into your lab one day at Stark Tower. Things just get weirder from there.

Word Count: 5,084

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: This is for the lovely @naterson​, whose birthday is today and who has said in the past that she loves the idea of an engineer reader working for Tony Stark. I definitely wouldn’t say that this is my best work-- it was a bit out of my comfort zone-- but I really wanted to give her that for her birthday. Happy birthday, Nat! I hope you have a great day <3<3<3

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Slight violence/hostage situation at the end

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

The first time you meet Loki is in your lab.

When he comes in, you’re nearly finished deconstructing a Chitauri particle gun, its guts splayed out across your table in a delicate ecosystem of wires and metallic parts. It’s been a neck-breaking process, equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. It still feels impossible to comprehend that the pieces in your hands were created on another planet, in another galaxy. That you are allowed to even hold this technology feels illegal, let alone to experiment with it.

For this reason, you don’t notice him right away. You’re too engrossed in your work to pay attention to the doorway behind you. It’s only after several minutes pass that the familiar tingle runs down your spine—that feeling of not being alone, of being watched. Your hands fall still. You whip around and yelp.

He’s just standing there behind you, dark curls slicked back over an expression of benign interest. At your cry, he cracks a smile that is somehow both equal parts apologetic and cocky.

“Good afternoon,” he grins. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Your pulse is racing. You had known that Loki is now stationed with the Avengers, with relative free rein of the tower. He’s not supposed to be dangerous—if he was, he’d be under a much more severe lock and key. But there’s still something about having the extraterrestrial responsible for the destruction of New York just casually moseying about your lab that sends your heart to your throat.

“How did you get in here?” Your hand flies beneath the table, where the red panic button rests against your fingers. It would trigger a lockdown sequence across the entire building, shutting down your floor immediately and dispatching agents to your location at once. You’ve never had to press it before, and you’re not particularly eager to now.

“I walked. The door was open, after all.” He nods in the direction of the hall, towards the door you were perpetually forgetting to lock, and flashes another smile. “It’s just that I’m in between assignments at the moment, and there’s precious little to do upstairs.”

You frown. Somehow, a bored immortal being once worshipped as a mischief god hanging around a tech lab sounds like a recipe for disaster. “Does Stark know you’re down here?”

“I’m sure he does. After all, if he didn’t, wearing these would certainly be a waste on my part.” Loki gives a nonchalant wave, showing off the silver bangle latched on to each wrist. They had been a non-negotiable in the agreement that sent Loki to work alongside the Avengers after the events in New York—Tony Stark had been particularly proud of himself for designing cuffs that could impede an Asgardian’s magic. You suppose it stands to reason he would have included a tracking device within them as well.

Still, you’re a bit hesitant. “JARVIS?” you call. “Does Mr. Stark know Loki’s in the labs?”

The clipped mechanical voice responds in an instant. “I have alerted him to that reality, Doctor.”

Loki grins. “See? No need to fret.” He takes a step forward, gazing at the mechanical parts strewn about your workspace. “What is it you’re doing here? Performing a dissection?”

You eye him suspiciously, backing away as he moves towards you. “I’m trying to reactivate the energy core.” It’s no secret, after all. It’s practically become a competition among Stark’s engineers over who can get the Chitauri tech functioning again first.

Loki sniffs. “Ah yes, of course. Mortals and their never-ceasing lust for power.”

“Lust for power’s got nothing to do with it,” you bristle. “I just want to see how this thing works.” You hesitate. “You wouldn’t be able to help with that, would you? You have experience with these weapons.” Although perhaps it’s a stupid question. Stark had probably gotten any and all useful information out of him a while ago.

The god chuckles. “I’m afraid mechanics were never my strong suit.” He eyes the seemingly defunct energy core, free from its nest of wires lodged within the particle gun. “Although I do recall that those can be highly volatile when exposed as you have it there.”

You can’t say that’s particularly groundbreaking insight. “Yeah, I know. But it’s no danger when it’s not functional.”

“Perhaps. But I’d be careful. It takes very little to set them off.”

The door slams, and now another figure his blustering into your lab, glaring daggers at your visitor, and you’re gulping air again because oh look, it’s your boss.

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253 notes - Posted June 2, 2022

#2

Birdsong

Summary: In the middle of the night, Loki gets up to comfort his infant daughter and thinks about how lucky he is.

Word Count: 1,087

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

A/N: I didn't really plan to write this, but @naterson​ was talking about Loki being a father to a baby on Discord and it reminded me of a scene from a much larger story I think about a lot but don't plan on ever writing. I usually don't like writing fluff, but I ended up sitting down yesterday and writing this by hand in about an hour and it was genuinely quite lovely. So this one's for you, Nat! 

(And if you were wondering, Nat chose the baby name, although she didn't know what she was choosing XD)

Warnings: None

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

Loki liked to lay awake at night.

It would have surprised you—when the two of you first met, he had found nights to be something horrific, a time where creeping creatures of the dark melded with monsters within his mind, tormenting him with violent memories of an inescapable past. But now, years later, the night meant something different to him. He laid in bed and admired the world steeped in darkness, soothed by the piercing song of the nightingale and the slow, steady sound of your breathing.

And occasionally, the shrill cries of a frightened infant.

At the sound of your daughter, Loki felt you stir besides him almost immediately—it was an instinctual reaction at this point, something several sleepless months of parenthood had well cultivated—but before you could fully sit up, he pressed you back into bed.

“I’ll take care of it,” he whispered, stroking a clump of hair from your face so he could press a kiss to your temple. “Go back to sleep.”

You truly were exhausted, it seemed, because you relaxed back against your pillow without even the slightest attempt to argue. Loki smiled, stroking a clump of hair from your face so he could press a kiss to your temple. Poor darling. Between the unfamiliar setting and beautifully taxing nature of the baby, he knew you hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in over half a year. The three of you would be returning to Midgard soon, and he hoped that once home you would find it at least a bit easier to relax.

Infant wails still flooded the air, and so Loki pulled himself from the warm cocoon of blankets and bedsheets and shuffled across the hall to the tiny room just besides your own. Charlie was sitting up in her crib—she had been sitting by herself lately, to Loki’s intense pride, as well as rolling and scooting around on her stomach. She hiccupped over her little sobs as she cried, gulping when Loki entered, but not stopping.

“Now what’s wrong, my precious meyla?” he cooed, scooping her into his arms and rocking her against his chest. Charlie sniffled, but she was soon distracted by a clump of his own hair, reaching out to clutch at the strands with her tiny fingers. Loki held in his laugh as she tugged. She was just so small. Every time he looked at her, he found himself in awe at her littleness, marveling at how something so small, so delicate, so wondrously perfect, could come from him. It had to have been your influence. Loki certainly wasn’t capable of creating something so beautiful.

Her tears seemed to have abated, but Loki continued to rock her gently, making his way across the room to the window overlooking the back of the palace. Asgard’s gardens were still shrouded in darkness, but smallest pinpricks of light were beginning to creep from the horizon and into the star-streaked sky. Somewhere in the trees, the nightingale continued its song. For a moment they merely stood, letting nature’s sweet music wash over them both as they gazed across the realm.

You and Loki hadn’t planned to remain on Asgard for so long. After all, you both were happily settled on Midgard, where you could be close to your family and Loki could be at a satisfying distance from his—the only reason you had decided to give birth on his home planet (if one could call it that) was due to the medical concerns of being a human carrying the child of a Frost Giant. The potential for complications was very real, and while nothing could stop the anxious pacing that kept him up all throughout your third trimester, knowing that you were in the hands of the finest healers in the Nine Realms did somewhat allay his concerns. You both looked forward to returning home, but Loki had to admit that there was something magical about being able to share the world in which had grown up with the family he never thought he could have.

He held Charlie to the window, so that she might look out upon the gardens as well. “Isn’t it pretty, little heart?” he whispered. “Not near as pretty as you are, though.”

She cooed, blinking at him sleepily. She had your eyes—Loki had nearly cried when she firsts looked upon him, those same precious gemstones for which he had already known he’d happily fight and die to keep them sparkling. They lit up the same as yours did when she laughed, angelic little giggles that made Loki feel practically weightless with elation. He loved hearing her laugh. He carried the sound in his heart like a badge of honor, proud in the knowledge that no matter his past, no matter his failing, he had been graced with this perfect little girl’s smile.

Charlie was nodding off now, resting her drowsy head against his shoulder. Carefully, Loki laid her back in her crib. He was humming, without really realizing it—humming along to the nightingale’s song until it turned into some nonsensically affectionate lullaby his mother had sang to him in his youth. The realization made him chuckle. He had never though much of singing until he met you, your earnest insistence in the beauty of his voice breaking down the barriers of insecurity he had so long upheld around everything about himself. You cajoled him into singing to you as you laid against each other in bed; soft, silly little folk songs he recalled from childhood. He was grateful for the darkness then, so you could not see how his face flushed red. And yet, here he was now, a father singing his child to sleep without even the slightest modicum of unease. You would be proud.

Loki sighed as the nightingale’s song drew to a close. Sometimes he wondered if it was all a mistake. Surely, he had done nothing in his life to deserve such happiness. Every morning, he half expected to awaken alone and find it was all a dream—a lovely, beautiful dream that he could never hope to hold. And yet, day after day, the two of you remained, his two perfect girls, who meant more to him than life itself.

Charlie twitched in her sleep, the tiniest of kicks, and Loki smiled. He wondered what she was dreaming of. Dawn was beginning to creep over the horizons, but Loki didn’t care. Even in the dark, he had everything he could ever want.

257 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Orange is the Happiest Color

Summary: “I had a dream that you proposed to me with an orange.” 

He chuckled, relaxing back into his pillow. “Did you say yes?”

Word Count: 2,657

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: So I had a dream about Loki proposing with an orange. I drew this. And then I wrote this. It’s very stupid. I’m not sure I’m happy with it. Here it is. Don’t take it too seriously. 

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: None

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

“I had a dream that you proposed to me with an orange.”

It was a strange way to begin the morning. Loki raised his eyebrows as he rolled to his side, propping his head up with his hand and studying you with a sleepy sort of amusement. “You dreamt I did what?”

“You proposed with an orange.” The words felt silly on your tongue, but it was still early in the morning, with only the slightest hints of sunlight slipping through the slits in the curtain to where the two of you lay tangled in blankets. It was sleepy enough to be silly. “We were in an orange grove. You opened two halves of an orange like a ring box, got down on one knee, and proposed.”

Loki chuckled, a lazy puff of breath escaping his lips as he relaxed back into his pillow. “Did you say yes?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard. Frowning, you tried to recall. The dream now felt distant and murky, something that faded a bit more with every waking moment spent beyond it. There were little more than still images left behind now—the sweet taste of citrus on the air, Loki’s goofy grin as he knelt before you, the wild wave of ecstasy that crashed through your soul at the realization …

“Yeah, I did.” You smiled. The memory was so warm, like reclining into a hot bath after a long day. “I said yes.”

Loki laughed again and pulled you close against his chest so he could press a kiss to your temple. You snuggled against his sternum, lulled by the steady beat of his heart. The room had gone silent again, a contemplative quiet.

Maybe you shouldn’t have told him the dream. It drifted too close to the unspoken. You and Loki had talked about marriage before, but nothing really beyond vague little allusions back when you had first started seeing each other two years ago. The situation was rather … difficult, you supposed the word was—when one partner’s biology would cause them to outlive the other’s by several millennia, planning for the future wasn’t exactly the optimistic conversation it was often cracked up to be. The two of you had elected to ignore the hulking bilgesnipe in the room and simply enjoy each day as it came. But the topic continued to simmer beneath the surface. Clearly.

Why else would you be dreaming of proposals?

But the two of you would have to wait to jump into a deep dive dream analysis, because the bedroom had barely been quiet a minute before Loki’s Avengers-branded communicator exploded into its usual obnoxious tirade of beeps and buzzes from where it had been exiled to the floor the night before.

Loki groaned, propelling himself to a sitting post even as you continued to cling to his shoulders.

“Can’t you ignore it?” you whined. “Just this once?”

He laughed, attempting to squirm out of your grasp—although you were nearly certain he was only doing so for appearance’s sake, because you both knew well enough that if he wished he could shrug you off with the flick of his wrist.

“If I do, they’ll break down your apartment door in their crusade to drag me there themselves,” he laughed. “And that would make quite the mess of your lovely doormat.”

“Let them try. They’ll have to go through me,” you declared. “I just got you back, and now they’re going to send you away again—”

“It won’t be long—”

“You don’t know that—”

“Darling, I promise—”

“That’s what you said last time.” You pouted, even though you knew you were being childish. It wasn’t Loki’s fault. The terms of his sentence, the terms that kept him out of an Asgardian prison and free to live by your side in the first place, mandated that he must assist the Avengers in any way required, at any point required, regardless of his personal desires. He was their muscle and their errand boy all at once, the red shirts sent in to handle situations too dangerous or too tedious to risk the other Avengers. These missions could take up to a couple of days to a couple of weeks to a couple of months, and often you found yourself left in the dark with no contact with which to determine when he was coming home, or if he was coming back at all. You hated it, and Loki knew it.

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312 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[primofate]

Genshin Angst Headcanons - Why the two of you broke up

Note: Had an unexpected free day! I haven't written in a while, please excuse the mistakes, if any.

Disclaimer at the end of the post

Warning: Some are pretty predictable. Each of them have their own issues, lore wise, so some are lore heavy. You might not agree with some of them, but its how I see it, so to each their own. Let me know what you think! Some are quite angsty. Some scenes it's you breaking up with him and some are vice versa. Didn't feel like writing Razor, Venti and Xingqiu.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Tighnari, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Personal Favourites in this work: Lyney, Itto, Kazuha

Aether

Sister issues. Enough said.

He realized he didn't have enough time to spare romancing with someone.

Somewhere along the way he felt guilt that he was enjoying his time with you while his sister went through some sort of villain origin story that seemingly turned her bad.

Top off all the adventuring, searching, solving problems for other people that he did...Where did that leave you, exactly?

"...I'm sorry, Y/N... I just... I don't think this is the right time for me to be together with you,"

Albedo

Contrary to popular belief it wouldn't be his lack of time or extreme focus on his alchemical experiments that would break the two of you up. He knows how to manage his time.

It was the RESULTS of experiments and his research that would put him away from you.

The possibility that HE or his world, was way too dangerous for you.

How many "Albedos" did Rhinedottir really create? Was there more than three? Perhaps four, five? And what happens when you come face to face with another Albedo?

"I'm afraid...There are far too many dangers surrounding myself... There are answers that I can't find...and perhaps that's the reason why my answer is to part ways with you,"

Alhaitham

Too much of a nonchalant attitude.

He expressed some kind of interest in you...but it's like... once in a blue moon. 95% of the time you're not sure if he's really into you. It almost seems like he's more into that book he reads all the time.

Simply just not good at expressing himself. Like, at all. Hides behind a "whatever works" and "I don't care about what other people think of me" attitude, unfortunately that seems to include you.

Is so straightforward that sometimes it hurts, but he's really just telling the truth through logical analysis.

will act like the breakup didn't hurt nor affect him at all. In turn it hurts you instead.

"I see. So you've had enough of me... And you only spoke up now? Pointing it out earlier could've diverted us from this path...If that's how you feel already I suggest that we stop seeing each other,"

"That's it? You're not even going to try and work it out with me?"

"What's there to work out? You've made yourself clear. You're not satisfied with the way I treat you, and I'm afraid I'm not going to change the way I act just for your pleasure... It'd be more meaningful for you to find someone who fits your criterias,"

Ayato

entering a relationship with a noble was not as easy as one thought.

It's not just about being together forever and feeling lucky because Ayato is rich and your whole life is set, it's also the not fitting in, the etiquette, the whispers from townfolk that you were too ordinary for him, the work that you needed to do if you were to become his wife.

All that was not really a big problem for you, but Ayato seemed not to know of your struggles, he was extremely busy, and when he wasn't, he seemed to think that everything was well and fine, since you were getting all your basic needs met and even more.

"...So I'm sorry, Ayato. This is just... All too much for me. I'm sorry,"

"...I understand. Forgive me, it seems that I've overlooked a lot of things...Perhaps it is as you say, that it'd be better for us to grow apart rather than grow together,"

Baizhu

because he is a ticking time bomb, no matter which way he looked it's not going to end well for both of you.

He either dies early or lives forever. In both scenarios he anticipates that the two of you are just going to be in a world of hurt.

Besides, he didn't mean to get so attached to someone in the first place, he knew his quest for immortality was long and arduous. You didn't deserve to walk that difficult road too.

While breaking up, will conceal the fact that he's only thinking of you and will possibly hurt you in the process.

"I'm sorry, but it's for the best. I ask that you continue going forward without me, there's no space for you in my... ideal future,"

Bennett

We all know it...it's his bad luck. However, it wasn't YOU who had a problem with it, it was HIM.

You understood that his bad luck was just some extended part of him, plus it's not like it was always bad, there were a lot of good times too. Plenty!

But the guilt ate him up whenever the two of you were stuck in a seemingly impossible scenario and predicament, brought on by his luck. He just had enough of it one day.

"I...I can't keep doing this to you every day! It's not fair..."

will be on the brink of tears before he even starts.

"Maybe it's better if you find someone else to adventure with, Y/N, sorry...!"

runs away before you can even get a word in.

Chongyun

Thinks he's not good enough in every aspect. It's really, seriously not about you. He thinks he's lacking in everything. Strength, maturity, experience, confidence.

So badly wants to stay with you but feels like he's not good enough and thinks that you're better off with someone else.

"D-Don't misunderstand... It's not because I don't like you anymore... I just...Please find someone else!"

Cyno

his bad jokes and TCG addiction. just kidding, you're not that shallow.

A lot of people are intimidated by him being the General Mahamatra because he gives importance to justice. While you, who had seen a bit more of him than other people had, it seemed more of an obsession to uphold the Akademiya's law and integrity.

This was not a big problem to you, you liked how he was serious at work.

Until one day when you were accused of plagiarising one of your papers and Cyno was the one sent to give you a first offense warning. The Akademiya knew of your relationship, that's probably why they sent him, to make it harder on the two of you.

Cyno didn't listen to your explanations on how it was an honest mistake, he still gave you the warning that you "deserved"

From then on it had just been different between the two of you, so it was really a mutual breakup. Or so you thought.

"...After that, I just realized that maybe this isn't the right time for us... We're both working for the Akademiya, we both take our jobs seriously...Unfortunately that seems to just be getting in the way of us...I think it's best if we stop seeing each other,"

"...I see." he pauses for a minute, as if tossing your words in his mind. "I...agree. Parting ways would certainly make work easier for both of us...it's the professional thing to do,"

Dainsleif

Has not moved on from his past.

Sure, everyone has their own baggage to carry, their own history to live through...but Dainsleif has heavier things than that. He seemed to wake up every day thinking of Khaenri'ah and the days long past. Was it regret? Nostalgia? Loneliness? You didn't know. You just knew that he wasn't really completely THERE with you in the present. Part of him still lived in the past.

When you explained that you felt like the two of you were not moving forward together and that it seemed like he wanted to go back to the past instead, he got offended.

"...My past is something that I carry forever, you'd claimed that you understood that," he starts.

"I do! But carrying it with you and letting it drag you backwards are two different things!"

He falters for a moment, only to leave you with his last words before turning away from you forever: "You will never understand, the weight that I carry,"

Diluc

is too guarded. You'd been friends for a long, long, long, long time before he decided he could let you in enough and be more intimate with you.

Even then everything was going at a snail's pace, though you were extremely patient with him.

The biggest problem with Diluc was that the two of you would progress one day, take a step forward, and then the next day it was like the two of you took two steps back.

Example: The two of you went out for a simple stargazing excursion late one night, it was nice and he had been incredibly affectionate. The next day he had trouble even meeting your gaze, and disappeared to do his work. It was also a little awkward during dinnertime. This scenario had happened more than once.

Hint: the closer he got to you the more afraid he became, thinking that he would one day lose you too.

"I...I can't. I love you but I...I've waited far too long. I'm sorry. I'm tired of this endless chase for you!"

He couldn't even say a thing. He'd wanted to ask you to stay, to wait for him a little longer, but he already knew how incredibly selfish that would have been. Instead, he grimaced, and looked away from your gaze, trying to find something worthwhile to say. There was only silence for a few moments.

"Goodbye Diluc," that's when you turned away.

Gorou

worships Kokomi too much and your insecurities just kept circling around in your head.

You know its his job. You know he isn't like that but the problem was YOU and not him.

Simply said you let your insecurity eat up the relationship between the two of you.

You couldn't bring yourself to say that you were jealous of the way he admired Kokomi so you broke up with him with another reason in tow.

Unfortunately, you're not a very good liar face to face so you did a butthole move and actually broke up with him through a letter. You just couldn't face him and tell him why.

All you mentioned in the letter was that you needed time to think and be away from him, and told him not to worry because it was your problem, not his.

Poor Gorou reread that letter over and over, trying to understand what went wrong.

Heizou

is just a natural flirt. You're not sure if he's doing it on purpose or not and you're not sure if he's even aware he's like that.

Anyway you'd seen him getting overly friendly (just another word for flirting) with a few other people a couple of times. You didn't let it get to you the first, fourth or even eighth time but you realized that he KNOWS that you're watching him do that.

So you confront him about it, but he claims that it's just his way of gathering information from others. People like to hear good things and some people are more susceptible to flirtatious comments so he resorts to that for his investigation sometimes.

You didn't really completely buy it and even if you did, it's not like this was healthy for your relationship. You just couldn't make yourself comfortable with it.

*You just chalked it up to the two of you being incompatible.

"I'm just not comfortable with that...I don't think I have to say sorry for how I feel but...I'm sorry anyway because I know you're just doing your job... It's probably best if we part ways here..."

"Is there any way to change your mind?" he genuinely asks.

You only give a lopsided smile. "You're a detective, I think you already know the answer to that,"

Yet he didn't stop you from walking away.

Itto

Kept breaking promises because he was too airheaded or too occupied doing something "stupid" with the kids or with his gang.

Pretty soon it just felt like you were an afterthought while everyone else in his life took precedent.

Got a ramen date? Oops, sorry! Got caught up looking for a strong onikabuto in the forest!

Needed his help to move some things? Gah, he was vandalising the bulletin boards, so he's running a bit late!

What's more you didn't actually mind that carefree, airheaded side of him...but it really got to you when he couldn't even seem to make you a priority. Not once.

He only realized that when he came running, late again, and stood face to face with a crying you.

"Hey sorry Y/N, I was just--...Why are you crying?!" is completely dumbfounded and clueless, mostly because when he came late, you had always shrugged it off with a smile on your face, or so he thought. This time you had a completely different reaction.

"I hate you...*hic* I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Shocked beyond belief. It wasn't like you to just blow up like that, but he couldn't do anything except watch you turn and run away from him after that exclamation.

Kaeya

Sometimes you're not sure if he takes you seriously.

Recently, he's not where he says he is, you don't know why he doesn't just tell you where he is.

He said he'd be working late, but then you find out he's at Angel's Share.

He said he'll be at Angel's Share, but then you catch word from Jean that he's out on a late mission.

He said he's escorting a caravan to Mondstadt but he's actually on assignment in Liyue.

It came to the point where you altogether just stopped looking for him cause half of the time you couldn't find him. It's like he's avoiding you or something, which, actually, seems just about right since he's been so busy with "work"

It reached a breaking point when, for a week, you were unable to bring him the lunch you prepared...because he was not where he said he was going to be. It was starting to get annoying.

"I don't understand why you're lying to me! Why do you have to tell me you'll be at Angel's Share this afternoon when you're not? Do you realize you make me walk all the way there only to come all the way back with nothing achieved?"

"I'm sorry snowflake, that wasn't my intention," though he still chuckles despite knowing full well that you were about to turn away.

"You know what, let me know when you're ready to stop making jokes. Until then, don't bother contacting me,"

He just didn't expect you to actually walk away from him.

Kaveh

Entertains everyone and anyone. Naturally kind at heart, will stop for anyone in trouble...even that flirtatious man/woman who is clearly just pining for his attention.

No he doesn't quite realize this.

The same person had asked for his help at least 4 times now and all 4 times he had been happy to offer a helping hand.

The last straw was when he was invited into the stranger's house, they had apparently needed someone to help them move and re-arrange furniture and he did, working till almost dinner time.

You'd caught him right by the person's door, because Kaveh was actually honest and told you he'd be helping them today, but the person was clearly eyeing Kaveh rather flirtatiously.

"Come again next time," you heard the person say rather happily. Kaveh only replies with "If I have nothing else to do, I suppose,"

"Kaveh, they're coming onto you and you keep letting it happen!"

"I'm not certain what you're talking about...They just needed some help around their house, nothing suspicious happened at all. Even if there was, I won't let anything happen between me and a stranger!"

"Then STOP helping them!"

"There isn't anything wrong with lending a hand...It was a quick move of things, that's all,"

"How would YOU feel if I just went into someone's house and kept helping them "move" things?"

"...I would think that's nice of you,"

You actually threw your hands up. "Oh, forget it! You know what, for someone who LOVES helping others, you're not doing such a great job of helping ME," then walked away and never came back. "Good riddance,"

Kazuha

He's a wandering samurai. You knew what you were getting into but you didn't expect dating him to be so hard.

He was gone for weeks on end, and you were not getting on that boat with him. In essence the two of you were just not ready to follow each other to the end's of the Earth, and that was fair. The two of you were young.

Kazuha kind of saw it coming, whenever he visited you, you seemed less spirited and he had an inkling as to why. The time apart was just too much for you.

It was a rather clean break actually. A real mutual breakup that the two of you agreed on.

"...You could say it's just not the right time for us," you even managed to laugh under your breath and he did the same, though it was barely audible.

"...Mm. There are matters that you need to attend to here...and there are things that I need to do out there," he slowly stood up from his sitting position next to you and still gazed at you rather lovingly. "...Perhaps, in another world, you and I are bound together,"

You gazed back forlornly, "...Just not in this one, it looks like,"

Lyney

because he will always choose his siblings over you. Always.

Though that's not a bad thing because you also think that family is important...somewhere along the way you realized that family is the ONLY thing he had and saw.

Example: Lynette and you had gotten ill at the same time one winter morning. Perhaps it was the cold that was passing around Fontaine. Lyney had been so worried about Lynette, that he seemed to have forgotten about you for the next few days. In fact, Lyney didn't even realize that you caught the cold too. You had only heard from Freminet, who you happened to cross paths with, that Lynette was also ill.

You thought that incident was the end of it, but really it seemed that whenever Lyney wanted to hang out with you, Lynette had to be there too. You tried to understand...after all there's still that mystery of disappearing women in Fontaine.

The breakup was induced when Lyney completely forgot about your birthday, because Freminet's was around the same time as yours. You helped Lyney prepare everything for Freminet, and said nothing about your own.

You realized that there was nothing wrong with choosing family over everything else...but the problem here was that Lyney didn't even have space for you in the first place.

So you left without saying anything. You figured he'd get over it quick. You had even gone so far as to move away from the main city of Fontaine and out into another island, because what would you say if he found you? That you were jealous of his siblings? You weren't going to ruin a family like that and it wasn't right to make him choose...so you just left without a word.

Neuvillette

Had a whole brainrot for this man:

Part 1

Part 2

Scaramouche

surprisingly it's not his anger issues.

It's the way he wouldn't acknowledge your relationship. You wonder how you even got into one with him.

There's no public show of affection, but even behind closed doors it rarely happened.

You knew that he was going to be like that, and so you didn't mind it all that much.

It was getting a bit much though when, out in public, he would walk further in front of you and refused to walk next to you. When he pretended like he didn't even know you. When he didn't stop to help you even when another man had shown interest in you, bordering on uncomfortable.

The more time passed the more you simply felt unloved...but for some reason you still blamed yourself.

"...I...don't know. Maybe you find me undesirable, or just...unappealing. Maybe you're embarrassed of me or...or..." maybe you just didn't care in the first place, you thought to yourself.

There was a long silence. Of you turning your gaze away, of him still piercing into yours. And then...

"Tsk...don't waste my time...Leave if you want to leave, door's open,"

Tartaglia

This one is simple. It's his obsession for fighting plus his complete disregard for himself. It's a constant heart attack for you. At some point the anxiety is just too much for you to handle.

Imagine living every day just wondering if he's safe at the same time knowing that he just loves to look for trouble.

The foul legacy that you know of, he uses it with disregard as well, despite knowing that it wasn't good for him.

And there are even days where you know he was heavily wounded but didn't go to you, in an attempt to shield you from worry.

It's a constant battle trying to stay sane and unworried, until one day it all just becomes too much.

"...Nothing I say will change anything, Tartaglia. This is who you are...This is who you need to be..." you whisper while bandaging his knuckles. He lets out a short hum.

It was silent all up until you finished with his hand, you squeeze it gently. "...I love you but...I can't keep doing this to myself, I'm tired...more so than I have ever been before,"

He lets your hand slip away from his knuckles, and that was the last he saw of you.

Thoma

This one is also simple. He was always taking care of others and running errands for others that he sometimes just couldn't catch a break.

Just a classic case of not enough time for you since he had a job to do for the Kamisato Clan.

He knows it, and feels awful about it. So he's the one who makes the move.

"It hurts that I can't give you what you deserve, Y/N. This isn't it... You deserve more than this but I can't give you that and I'm sorry. Please look for the love that you deserve,"

Tighnari

Remembers everything. Can be critical of things you've done, specially if he thinks there's a better way to do it.

Simply said you just feel stupid in front of him sometimes.

He doesn't mean to, but he sometimes forgets to appreciate or give praise to the things that you do well and even if he does, it tends to be short lived compared to his constructive criticisms.

Pretty soon you felt like he only looks at the bad things you do, and never the good. Though he was really only trying to teach and guide you as an equal.

He in fact feels that you are one of the few people who can keep up educational conversations with him.

The problem is he kind of forgets that you're his lover, and that you would enjoy his praise and affection from time to time.

"Do you... Do you ever have anything nice to say other than 'good work' or 'great observation'?" the words were out of your mouth before you could hold yourself back. Sometimes it was tiring to feel like you weren't good enough.

There's a flash of surprise that crosses Tighnari's expression for a split second, before he recovers. "...Had I not been praising your work enough lately? My apologies... It has a lot of merits, I just thought that you wanted my opinion on how to make it better,"

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again right after to ponder on his words. Somehow even that had managed to make you feel embarrassed. It was here you knew that the problem also lied within yourself.

"...Sorry, Tighnari...I think I'll need some time alone,"

He obliges quickly and asks. "That's reasonable. When would you like me to come back?"

"...Let me rephrase that... I need some time away. From us."

Xiao

Unfortunately there's a lot of things wrong here... his lack of affection. His aloof personality. His dedication to his yaksha duties. Despite that he does actually try to be gentlemanly or respectful of you.

The worst of it is that he didn't know how to be in a relationship, in other words he just wasn't ready for one, or perhaps he would never be ready for one.

He didn't understand that humans craved companionship and sometimes touch. He didn't understand that meant having to favour you over others, sometimes even putting you first over his yaksha duties.

Worst of it all was when he shut himself off from you, sometimes for days on end, when his karmic debt was too high. He only really did it to protect you, but never realized how isolated that made you feel.

When you confronted him about it, he felt attacked. Hiding away was the only way he knew how to cope...why couldn't you understand that?

"Let me help you, Xiao,"

"I don't need your help!" his tone would make you wince and just like that he disappears into a billow of smoke.

You never returned to Wangshu Inn after that. If he couldn't let you in, there was no use trying to knock on his heart. Xiao being Xiao, never sought you ought again either.

Zhongli

He had experienced so many things and you had listened to many a tales from him.

This is what caused you to realize that you hadn't even experienced life at all, and yet here you were willing to tie yourself down to him.

It just didn't feel like it added up. Here he was with all this knowledge of the world and here you were who had never even stepped outside of Liyue. By no means were you stupid, but you felt that you could be better not only for him, but for yourself if you learned more.

There was just such a huge gap in life experiences, and though you never expected to get to his level (he was a God who had lived for a long time, you would never catch up to him) you at least wanted to see what was out there with your own eyes instead of through his stories.

He understood that wholeheartedly, and had no qualms in letting you go.

"You will always have a place with me, Y/N. No amount of lifetimes will change that,"

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Disclaimer: Relationships will always have some sort of problem along the way, maybe big, maybe small but I just want to reiterate that breaking up is not always the solution. Communicating is very important. So to those of you who like taking fanfiction too seriously, let it be known that this is just a work of fiction. I don't actually suggest breaking up with someone as soon as there is the slight indication of a problem (Just saw someone commenting on a similar themed post for Haikyuu that this wouldn't happen in the real world if both parties were mature... I mean, sure, but, idk, you must be fun in parties... it's called fiction for a reason...)

[that-one-malereader-enthusiast]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 • 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐑𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 || inspo: @nickgoesinsane the post !!!

⟩ » Part One « | Part Two ⟨

cw : MDNI - S1 Lestat, flirting, suggestive content, top male reader, goofy male reader, bagged the baddie by being autistic aesthetic, mentions of sexual interactions, slight Louis jealousy, one-shot.

Thinking of how Lestat would so leisurely find his way onto your leg, his body pressed against yours almost similar to how a feline would greet another. How he would lean his head over as you'd whisper to him what others only wish they could hear.

Ears perking up at the melodic laughter from the blonde beauty himself. His hand having to cover his lips as to stifle his own joy, afraid he wouldn't be able to stop himself. Your mere words brought him joy, a rare feeling when it didn't come from either spiting others or showing off his many 'talents'.

You spoiled the man rotten from your presence alone.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Lestat had become absolutely enthralled with you.

Beforehand, he'd peered his way into your mind and saw you as nothing more than a simpleton who genuinely happened to stumble into a bar. Like a lost puppy, you seemed almost shy, scrambling for help in your mind as the bustling room seemed like a cry out of your comfort zone.

Oh how absolutely wrong he was.

By the time he'd occupied a seat next to you, the blonde man barely had enough time to introduce himself before you perked up and did so first. You were a bit of a motor-mouth, but a smooth one at that. Lestat seemed only partially annoyed as he practically got your life's story before saying a measly five words.

You were the perfect target for a good night, to sate both his needs of hunger. A gluttonous lust he'd have sprung on Louis if the man wasn't so tied up in his own family affairs at the moment. It couldn't have been laid out any better. You were alone, having moved from further down south to try and set up business, but you were lost and passing by.

You had no family or friends worried about you, you weren't of a high enough status to be searched for if gone for more than a day, and better yet, all your belongings were currently on you as you'd been trying to find a place to stay for the night.

Lestat did have to silence you for the moment as you rambled about your current situation. His nimble fingers seemed to caress your jaw, thumb place against your lips. "For such a handsome face, you speak more than you can breathe. Though I can't blame you, having to go through such a harrowing journey with no one willing to help you?"

You seemed to smirk behind his finger, a laugh leaving your slightly chapped lips. "Well, what can I say pretty boy? You simply took my breath away the moment you sat next to lil' ol' me."

Lestat was a bit surprised to say the least as you seemed openly okay with complimenting him in such a way. Many men, caucasian or colored, seemed to keep to themselves or explore behind closed doors. You? Your mind was open and unafraid, bold to say the least—though there wasn't a single degrading thought to behold at that moment, even as the conversation continued.

"Perhaps I could provide you a place for the night? I highly doubt you'd be willing to march to your destination after such a strenuous journey here, pauvre chiot..." Lestat removed his hand, one now tapping against the bar while the other lingered against your open thigh.

"That's mighty sweet of you! So, how could this poor country boy ever repay you for such a kind gesture mista..." You droned on, hoping he'd fill the space in order to finally introduce himself.

"Lestat, Lestat de Lioncourt," he practically purred out.

"Pretty name for an even prettier face. Ya' don't sound like you're from here yourself mister Lestat. Got a story of your own to tell?" You'd now seem almost infatuated with this man who'd barely begin to speak to you, much less offer a place to stay. In the back of your mind, you knew that it was a ploy to sleep with you, maybe even take some of your belongings, but the man seemed much too proper and seemed to hold himself to a higher standing than to be a petty thief.

"Oh, but would you rather I bother you with something more than a story, mon cher?"

"Maybe, but only if you explain what you just said. Sounded somthin' like you were callin' me a cherry. Not to disappoint you, but ain't the first time I've been called a fruit, I'll tell ya that." That seemed to get a genuine chuckle from Lestat, making the smile on your lips widen.

The blonde individual shook his head as his laughter died down. "It seems you are not familiar with the tongue I speak in. Just as it seems you are just as unfamiliar with the French quarter as well."

"I wouldn't mind becoming familiar, whether it be with your tongue or otherwise," you quipped. "I can do much more than yappin' yer ear off, but I do enjoy your voice much more than hearing my own. Wanna get out of this joint? Doesn't seem much like your style Lestat."

If it was an excuse to finally get you alone, he'd take it. As if you were already mesmerized by the devil in disguise, the two of you left the establishment and into the darkness of the night.

Even though you spoke to an extent that would annoy any congressman who'd have told debate against you, Lestat seemed to grow fond of the conversation, as well as the praises you seemed to give. You followed him willingly, though it wasn't much of a surprise to Lestat. There were people that simply swooned over him via their first meeting, but you were different.

Yes, you were charismatic, a bit awkward, and yes, a chatterbox, but your sudden infatuation with Lestat was odd to him. He couldn't see any current thoughts that were of the sexual variety, just genuine curiosity.

So he amused you with a short tale of his own travels, walking side by side in no direction in particular. He was simply biding time before eventually giving your life an end. Though he couldn't have imagined that an hour later, he would be settled in an empty field laying in the grass with you, laughing his heart.

"Chéri, how would he have even gotten his head stuck in such a place?"

"Beats me! Believe me, I called him shithead plenty of times, I just didn't think he'd take it in such a literal sense. Look, and that cow? I felt even worse for her." You ended as you recounted a story from your hometown. "You also keep calling me chair? Are you being funny? Look, you can sit on me, all you had to do was ask honestly—"

"Mon Dieu, you will be the end of me," Lestat wheezed out before sitting up. "I have not laughed like this in a very long time." Rubbing his jaw, he could barely feel an ebbing of aching in his cheeks from how hard he'd smiled before, his stomach tending from how tickled he'd become. "And no, I am not poking fun at you mon cher. Your humor isn't the least bit boring unlike some unruly men I've come into contact with. I assumed you simply had lines to try and...take off with me."

Your face flushed at the idea. "Well, you were also laying it on thick yourself Lestat. Didn't know if you wanted to help me or...somethin' else. I mean, I'm flattered, surprised too. What's a pretty thing like yourself doin without someone on your hip. I mean—you're proper as hell, a real gentleman if anything. A flirt too, charming, handsome, cute, radiant even. You're a diamond compared to the dull coin I am."

Lestat seemed even more surprised at the compliments he was getting, yet you seemed to neglect your own self worth. "Even coins are valuable, dull, dirty, or not. Why do you put yourself down so?"

There was a cloud of despair in your mind for a moment before a sad smile appeared upon your face. "Today could be my last for all I know. I haven't made a name for myself here, and if I were to disappear tonight well...what mark would I have made? You know me as this country bumpkin ya met at the bar? You'll forget about me tomorrow as if I never existed."

You weren't wrong, Lestat had planned to simply get rid of you then and there, but now you'd peaked his interest. "If...you were given the opportunity, to achieve what you'd like, would you take it?"

"No questions asked."

"Even if you had to make a deal with the devil himself?"

"I'd ask him to throw in beaut like yourself, I'd be all in."

Lestat felt a grin appear on his lips at your mere words. "You don't have much hesitation do you?"

"I've got nothing to lose. Go big or go home, right?"

"Indeed Mon cher."

Suddenly Lestat pounced, smashing his lips against yours in an almost bruising strength. You took it as a sign, knowing that tonight would mostly likely end in the two of you sleeping together. His tongue slipped into your mouth, now fighting for control as your own hands came to hold his waist. The kiss was heated, abit sloppy, and by the time Lestat pulled away, you were breathless and flushed down the neck. The moonlight gave way to his silhouette as he stayed hovered above your face.

"Are ya sure you want this Lestat? I've been told I'm a lot to handle."

"You've been so bold and quite forward all night, don't tell me you're getting shy now," a grin appeared on Lestats' face, his fangs peeking from behind his slightly swollen lips.

"Don't say I didn't warn you.."

♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　°

Lestat seemed to stare at the headboard of the bed, almost lost in thought as just as he felt breathless. He only snapped back to reality as he felt a warm breath and kiss against his bare shoulder.

"You still with me Lestat?" Your voice was much softer, tender as you nuzzled against the nape of the others neck, the sheets covering both of your lower halves as your body hovered above his.

Blinking, the blonde seemingly loosened his grip on both the pillow and the sheet beneath him. He'd slept with others who also seemed full of themselves, but now the tables had turned. He was practically filled to the brim with your sheer girth alone, pressing against his more sensitive places. His tongue ran over his lips, lapping up the leftover drops of blood that filled his throat mere moments ago.

"I told you we could have gone slow...you're not hurtn' are you?"

Lestat was taken aback by your demeanor. Not many people seemed to care for his well-being, especially during sexual escapades such as these. "Mon cher, do you often become this worried about those you sleep with?"

"Couldn't say. You're...the first," your face completely bloomed at the sudden confession.

Lestat however was completely dumbfounded. You did not act like a virgin in bed. He would have never assumed it was your first time, not with the way you completely ravished his body by the time the two of you made it through the front door. Your touch like silk, finding every weak spot and milking it for all its worth.

A groan left the blonde's lips as you'd shifted, though he knew you'd be slightly dazed and possibly inebriated as you were unaware that he'd fed from you tonight. "Dieux, you must be humoring me again, no?" Even peering into your mind once again, he had seen the truth, and knew that you spoke of no jokes.

You made a small noise, but shook your head as you buried your face within Lestats' neck, kissing his warm skin and even up to his jaw. "I hope I'm not disappointin' ya..."

"Merde..."

Lestat didn't expect you to be a literal bucking bronco, but he couldn't deny how you made him feel. Physically, it was as if you were bringing heaven up on his flesh, every touch, flick, lick, almost other worldly. Emotionally...he didn't understand. By daylight you'd be dead, he was sure of it, that he'd have his fun and dispose of you before morning.

Though at the moment it didn't seem as if you were out of energy. A bit sluggish yes, but a certain part of you was ready for more. "Lestat..'" Muttering against his skin, your hips rutted upwards, making a heavenly noise leave the man below you. "You can be on top this time if you want..."

♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　°

Three months ago, Lestat questioned his morality, though it wasn't the first time he did so. He always entertained Louis and even then, the humans around him weren't much worth the time or space when it came down to their needs or wants— whether it was self loathing, craving of sex, the need for food, or the wanting of home to go back to. They were all the same. It was the same with everyone he'd stumbled upon.

"Another round of drinks for the booth Chéri!"

Lestat found himself sitting on your leg, practically draped over you like a coat, his head tilted against yours. The spoils of laughter and joy you'd brought him within such little time was uncalled for, but granted, he never imagined someone like you would stumble into his life alongside Louis.

He saw no need to change you, though his eyes were set on someone else for such an event. You knew of his secret, and kept it to yourself. The nights where he'd come to see you, having dealt with racist snobs or uninteresting people, you were there to cleanse his boredom.

Though the two of you slept with each other quite often, you would never let him leave without pampering him after. And Lestat enjoyed every minute of it. Your sweet words, the true sincerity that you felt for him, that you loved him. Though it was hard to tell with Lestat if he felt that same way, or if he just adored you like any other human he might keep for entertainment.

Within the last few months the two of you had become business partners, having made a nightclub out of an old townhouse set to be demolished. Many strings had been pulled to get things up and running, but even then it happened to be a successful mission for both men. There was music, dancers, singers, all sorts of entertainers that came in to perform, and many people paid top dollar to come in.

Even Lestat had days where he'd perform on stage. To say he loved to peacock was an understatement.

This nightly job was as thrilling and fun as your nights in the town. Unfortunately, you were a horrible driver. Lestat had never been so unnerved about someone driving, and you? "A better lover than a driver I suppose?"

"I believe so ma chérie, I believe so..." It's safe to say that Lestat would be driving you around while you'd stay being his passenger princess.

Louis watched on from the other side of the half circle booth he sat in, his eyes narrowing at you as you practically wore Lestat, and the man let you. He couldn't understand what was so special about you. In his eyes, you were the same as him, maybe a little less.

Even as you'd been introduced to Louis, the two of you had never met eye to eye. Maybe it was because Lestat seemed to visit him just slightly less often than he did before you showed up. Maybe it was because he barely went out with Louis anymore because he was too busy riding you. With a glass in hand, Louis stared you down as you whispered something with Lestats' ear. He couldn't help but to wonder, seriously, what do you see in that guy?

Lestat stifled a laugh as he pressed the back of his own hand against his mouth. His piercing gaze seemed to shift over to Louis as his thoughts spoke much louder than others. The blonde couldn't help but to grin, pulling you in closer.

"He makes me laugh!"

"Hm?"

"Nothing ma très chère."

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

please do not repost my content on other sites and platforms. thank you. © @that-one-malereader-enthusiast ||

more fics from interview with the vampire » IWTV Masterlist

more from @that-one-malereader-enthusiast » Masterlist

Like, Comment, Or Reblog. || A/N: Thank you for reading! Any comments or notes help motivate me to post more often like this! Unfortunately I tend to overthink lots of my writings, which lead to me not posting or becoming unmotivated. This was written out as an imagine but I got carried away! Hope you all enjoyed! Will maybe edit and clean it up later!

[withleeknow]

whiskers.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; reader has whisker dimples bc this is self-indulgent as hell, written in one sitting and v unedited lol it is once again 2am and i am half asleep. the fake cut mimo has on his cheek in the pics is kind of exactly where my whiskers are lmfao word count: 0.6k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

"whiskers," minho says, pulling your gaze away from the laptop in front of you.

you roll your eyes half-heartedly, though you do put the device to the side to give minho your undivided attention. he's looking at you expectantly but patiently, like he's just asking you to give him a little love.

this isn't something that you've always liked about yourself, your whisker dimples as the internet has so lovingly deemed them these days. they would come out when you smile, or when your face twists into an unpleasant scowl. as a kid, people often found it odd how you had dimples so high up in your cheeks when others had them around their smile lines. you always felt a little different, a little weird whenever someone pointed this out even if it was only in harmless fun.

when minho first became aware of it, he was absolutely fascinated. he'd made you laugh so hard that you couldn't contain the bright grin that spread across your face as complete and utter joy took over you. you were clutching his arm, giggling at the story he was telling you when the dimples showed themselves, the cute indentations settling on top of your cheeks as if they were the physical manifestation of the happiness you felt inside.

you remember what minho did. he had cupped your face gently in his hands, then traced the soft lines with his fingers as he marveled at you. "you look like a cat," he had said, and you didn't really know what to make of it. it was so early in your relationship that you weren't sure if he was complimenting you or making fun of you like the others had.

but then the stars in his eyes twinkled a little brighter, the delighted quirk of his lips expressing his wonder better than words could. he had kissed you right there, softer and sweeter than he ever did in the short time that you had known each other back then, and you quickly learned that oh, maybe this little detail about yourself that you were embarrassed of your whole life was a good thing after all.

you still don't know the reason minho likes them so much. to you, they've always been something to ignore as best as you can, something to not draw attention to because you don't want people to highlight that maybe you're a little different from everybody else.

even as you sit here, years later with the love of your life who's got a very particular request for you, you're still not entirely sure why he's obsessed with your odd dimples enough to want to see them almost every day. it's a mystery to you and yet, it makes you feel all warm and bubbly inside whenever he sends this simple demand your way.

you adhere to his request nonetheless. when the dimples appear, you watch as a smile blooms on his face, growing bigger and bigger until it makes his eyes crinkle. like an instant boost of serotonin, you think.

minho traces them with gentle fingers, gazing at you in awe as if it's the first time he's seeing you like this. when he leans closer, you can't help but meet him halfway until his lips are tentatively brushing your cheeks. you can't help your own smile either, when it deepens and only accentuates the small moon-shaped dents which he kisses. five times on each side, and then he's peppering kisses all over your face while you laugh and accept the sudden burst of love.

sometimes he calls them whiskers, sometimes he calls them moons.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 31.05.2024]

[drvscarlett]

Let Him Cook pt5

Charles Leclerc x MasterChef! reader

A/N: I'm really so happy with all the love that you have given to this fic. I enjoy writing about it, let me know if you have any blurbs or scenarios that you wanna see. This series will continue on and on

Let Him Cook Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams @barcelonaloverf1life @ririyulife @minseok-smaus @mehrmonga @sltwins @charlesgirl16 @six-call @spideybv28 @casperlikej @weekendlusting @janeholt3 @evie-119 @leilanixx @randomgirlnumber-13 @itsjustkhaos

lec lerc challenge

"As you all know by now, Charles is planning to launch his own ice cream store"you started talking to the camera "And you know what funny story, he didn't even tell me"

Charles, who was by your side, was laughing like a hyena. He actually wanted it to be discovered on the the first day of April so everyone might think its a prank but then he will announce that he is very serious about it. It was an elaborate prank on top of prank. However, the news sites got a hold of it earlier.

"That's another story time. We have to get down to business" Charles reeled the topic back to the video that you two are making.

"Okay so in order to test Charlie's knowledge about ice cream, I have here ice creams that I made myself" you explained.

In front of the two of you were 10 paper cups. They have been covered on top so that Charles won't get a hint about the color.

"So my main task is to identify what's the flavor of the ice cream"Charles confirms "Easy"

"I made some unconventional flavors to throw you off" you informed him.

You can't help but giggle as you remember how you made some weird flavors for the ice cream. But hey, this was supposed to be a challenge to see if Charles' taste buds are working so it doesn't necessarily have to be a delicious ice cream.

"Okay, I am ready to scream for ice cream"

The first five cups were easy peasy. It's common flavors such as chocolate, vanilla, cookies and cream, caramel, and pistachio.

"I'm good at this mon amour"

Charles is pretty confident now. Time to throw the curveballs.

"I'm excited for you to try this"you excitedly give him the cup.

Since Charles is blindfolded as he does this challenge, the first thing he does is smell it. He is usually confident upon spelling but the frown lines forming on his face suggest that he might be confused about the flavor profile.

"This feels strange. I smelled this before but I can't put my name on it"Charles notes.

He takes a scoop from the cup and tasted it. It was evident to his face that he didn't enjoy this ice cream a lot.

"That's so sour, mon amour there are definitely strawberries in that"Charles complained.

"Strawberries and?"

There was a string of italian and french word from Charles as he tries his best to identify it. Finally, he had a lightbulb moment where he remembered the taste of it.

"BALSAMICO" Charles screamed "That is not a flavor I will put in my store, definitely"

Y/NCooks posted a photo.

Y/NCooks turns out Charles is pretty good with his taste buds. Watch me test Charles with his ice cream skills [link]

User1 Atleast we know that Charles is committed to being an ice cream man

User2 Charles_Leclerc you should definitely try the bourbon and corn flakes in the menu

User 3 Highly agree, I would love to try that User4 were all acting like were so close to milan. Babes we live across the world.

LandoNorris do you have some plain ice cream left for me

Y/NCooks i have some but its good to try other flavors every now and then Lan LandoNorris mmm, i'll try that black sesame one. that seems like a good flavor Y/NCooks brilliant. message me when i can see you Charles_Leclerc im amazed how Y/N managed to convince you of different food choices

MasterChefAU is this Charles' entry to master chef blind taste test challenge?

Charles_Leclerc MasterChef Monaco soon??? User4 I'm laughing at the number of sidequest Charles has. SIR you are an f1 driver!!!

Charles the baker

Charles_Leclerc posted a photo.

Charles_Leclerc okay i did all the measurements right. WHY DID THEY EXPAND

User1 I can hear Charles screaming with the caption

User2 Charles is such a mood when I try to bake things

User3 But is it edible tho?

Charles_Leclerc it is but its not as pretty User4 this is an internet highlight wherein Charles is sulking and asking the internet where he went wrong

maxverstappen1 recipe reveal?

Charles_Leclerc no ✨✨ maxverstappen1 don't want it anyways. i just wanted to know what you did so i won't end up like that User5 MAX!!!!! User6 your honor we love the lestappen crumbs

Y/NCooks honey maybe you should consider giving it some space, bread do expand when they get baked.

Charles_Leclerc they do?? Y/NCooks Yes they do. But in all honesty they look so cute, its alright honey Charles_Leclerc love you mon amour!

SebastianVettel maybe we should have a baking session one of these days, I can teach you a lot about baking breads

Charles_Leclerc sounds good, miss you already Seb User7 oh to be Charles Leclerc having the Sebastian Vettel teaching him bread and MasterChef Y/N encouraging him

tiktok pasta challenge

It was a fairly simple tiktok viral recipe and in your mind its something that Charles will be able to follow instructions with. So you set up your camera and told Charles about a cooking challenge that he has to do.

"Today's challenge, Charles will be using his listening skills. Lets see how well he listens to me"you greeted the camera "Are you ready mon amour?"

"More than ever, I look good in an apron"

You stayed behind the camera as Charles stayed in front of the kitchen counter. He was tying up his apron and grabbing your chef hat from one of the drawers.

"First of all, I need you to quarter an onion"you instructed.

Charles was immediately grabbing the onion and you immediately face palmed yourself when Charles started quartering the onion without even peeling it.

"Honey, you are supposed to peel it" you sigh

"Honey, you didn't say anything about peeling it. We have three cameras set up and editors should replay that you said quarter it and not peel it" Charles argued

You raised your hand in defeat, you should have been more clearer.

"Okay, I'm not gonna be vague. I'll make it clear"

The whole cooking went along smoothly until its time for Charles to cook the pasta. He has been heavily stressing to get the texture right this time or else it will further the allegations that he can't cook pasta.

"Calm down Charlie"

"I am very very very calm, I'm just checking" he lifted the lid for the fifth time "They have to be perfect"

"Charles is very honored to be taught by Gordon on a 1 on 1 session"you informed the camera.

The two have exchanged numbers and Charles will often ask his culinary questions to Gordon when you were not available to answer them right away. Gordon seems to enjoy the new friendship with the driver since he often send Charles link for cooking recipe to try.

"I don't wanna be an idiot sandwhich" Charles muttered, stirring the pot of pasta.

Charles got a perfect al dente to his pasta. He pulls out the baked feta and tomatoes out of the oven then mixed it with the pasta. It seems as if the dish looks pretty especially with the garnishes that Charles insisted.

"Plating is also everything"he says to the camera as he grates some lemon zest to the plate "Whatever this taste like, just remember that Y/N was instructing me so if there is anyone to blame then its Y/N"

"Way to throw me under the bus Charles"

Y/NCooks just posted a photo

Y/NCooks The dish vs the chef. I think they are equally yummy [link]

User1 CHARLES CAN COOK!!!!

User2 alternative title charles stressing 10 minutes straight if the pasta is al dente or not

User3 The girlfriend effect on Charles is that he is now able to cook pasta

User4 I really want to try that pasta

Arthur_Leclerc i hope you never get tired of the pasta, its the only thing he will cook from now on

Charles_Leclerc i mean she loves it!!!! Y/NCooks its pretty good arthur, you should try it!! Arthur_Leclerc next family dinner? Charles_Leclerc im on it! User24 oh to be a fly at the Leclerc family dinner

User5 I think everyone ignored the caption, miss maam thirsting over her boyfriend

User6 if i was Y/N i would too Y/NCooks facts only!!! User6 Mother replied to us!!!

scuderiaferrari so charles is approved for a cooking challenge in the channel soon?

Y/NCooks he is born ready User8 kind of missed the c2 cooking challenges

everything i cooked

Charles_Leclerc posted a reel

here is everything that I did to celebrate Y/N's birthday. This isn't a common day, its really special so I have to run at 5 to get the flowers I ordered for her. Then next I cooked up breakfast which is some pancakes, thank you Carlos for the recipe. And then I surprised her with a little bit of breakfast in bed

and then I started making our lunch after clearing the table. Y/N had been craving butter chicken and I purposely did not take her so I could make some at home. Its a fairly easy recipe, I just had to mix some spices, cook the onions then you have the tomato paste and then cream. thanks Gordon I owe you one. She loved it so much.

and then I started early on the dessert for dinner. I didn't do the ladyfingers from scratch, I don't have a lot of time so yes here we are. The tiramisu is in the fridge. And then since Y/N loved the Lady and the Tramp spaghetti meatballs scene. I did my own take on it. Needless to say she loved it. So yes happy birthday once more mon amour, I love you so so much.

User10 I know we have been making fun of Charles but the man can actually cook.

User11 My boyfriend be forgetting my birthday but Charles here is slaving in the kitchen for Y/N's birthday

User12 CHARLES IS THE STANDARD!!! User14 Imagine cooking a whole breakfast, lunch, dinner, with a birthday dessert???!!! GOD I SEE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS

MasterChefAU Im glad to hear you are treating our girl well, happy birthday Y/NCooks

User13 OUR GIRL??!!!! Y/NCooks he is treating me well, thank you for all the greetings

Gordongram That's a beautiful dish and effort Charles!

Charles_Leclerc Thank you !!! Y/NCooks he is screaming btw Gordongram

PierreGasly when will you cook for me

CarlosSainz55 and me?? i think there is some former teammate privileges out here LewisHamilton the current teammate is also wondering SebastianVettel you boys are not Y/N. Y/N is special. Charles_Leclerc what seb said!!!

Y/NCooks one of the sweetest gesture anyone did for me. Thank you honey for making this day extra special. I don't need any five star restaurants when I have you in the kitchen.

Charles_Leclerc I love you. You deserve the world User21 Them your honor. User22 Happy Birthday Y/N, you two are excellent for each other

[bandgie]

Poor Baby

Idol!Bangchan x sexworker!reader

a/n: a lot of you guys asked for a part two of this post and I will provide!

synopsis: You need to make end meet with your bills. When your boss gives you a huge opportunity to make big money, you hop at it (even if it impacts your dignity). Lucky for you, your favorite customer happens to be coming in that day.

cw: 18+ MDNI, glory holes, PIV, no protection (use it!), fingering, oral (f!receiving), pussy slapping, cursing, cock drunk reader, reader is called Nyx/Chris is called Koala, mentions of Lee Know, cum eating, Chris is more confident this time, Chris is called 'daddy' and he plays into it, brief mentions of sub-space, idk that's it

3.9k words

"I dunno, sounds too risky," you bite your fingernails as you speak. The offer is a good one, triple your hourly and bonus tips. You were on the verge of not being able to make rent, but your boss literally put this opportunity in your lap. Had you been a higher rating girl, you wouldn't have to resort to being a gloryhole.

"Okay I see what you mean," he starts, "but it's only for the weekend. Five hours tops! I'll give you a 20 minute break in the middle of it." Your boss looks at you with expecting eyes. You would take the deal in a heartbeat, but it goes against the only rule you have. "I don't feel safe letting my clients raw dog me. What if they get me sick?"

Your boss shakes his head profusely, "No! Come on Nyx, you know I wouldn't let that happen to any of my girls. They'll take the test to see if they're clean in advance. I get it, it goes against your morals or whatever, but it's big money. Huge! People with names are going to come, literally, and I know you need this more than ever. It's why I came to you first."

You sigh, looking down at the hands in your lap. He's right, and he's a good boss. You have a good job, nice coworkers, and a boss who genuinely looks after you. That's hard to find in this business. After all, you do need the money. Doing this gig for the weekend will help tremendously, and you might even afford to take a few days off.

Finally, you nod. "Yeah I guess you're right. When should I show up?"

It was a lot sooner than you had anticipated. You and the other girls weren't allowed to know who was coming. Like your boss said, they were well-known, so they preferred to keep their identity a secret. That part did make you a little nervous if you're being honest, but you found comfort in knowing that they wouldn't be able to see you.

It would be better this way. Have half your body in a wall, legs open, let the dude use you until he cuts in mere minutes, and get on with the next. Men cum easily, especially when they used women like a fleshlight. Perhaps time will go fast like that, and you could start planning on what you can do on your mini vacation.

So here you were, upper body laid on a small bed chest down with a bar in front for support. Your lower body was out through the hole, legs standing for support. It was slightly uncomfortable, but you could manage. Other women were in different positions all around you, some higher and some lower. Your boss and a few of other workers helped lube you up. You're thankful for that because you know damn well the men coming in would just rail into you.

A few minutes passed before you could hear shuffling, murmurs, the unbuckling of pants. You tensed in anticipation. You were grateful they couldn't see you, but not being able to see them was an entirely different story. You gasped when you felt fingers explore your folds. They were impatient, violating, and too harsh. You bit your lower lip from barking at the man, trying to think of all the cash you'd be swimming in soon.

It's just for the weekend.

-

Chris found himself, once again, in front of your establishment. He had already gone though the club, the secret sunflower door, the code. The only difference was that he was accompanied by none other than the person who told him about this sex club, Lee Know. They both wore disguises, face masks and hats to conceal their face.

"I can't believe you convinced me to do this again," Chris groans. Lee Know only smiles and laughs. Minho pats him on the back, "You're the one that agreed. Plus they have something special going on. You'll like it." Chris follows Minho from the main floor of the sex club and into the back. It's the familiar path to where he met you, but way further back.

Christopher would be lying if he wasn't anticipating on meeting you again. It's embarrassing, but he jerks himself off at the thought of you. The way you feel, the way you taste, how patient you were with him. He would rather die than tell Minho about you, he would get teased until the end of days. It's silly to think he'd see you here, but he can't help but hope.

"Something special? Is that why I had to get tested for STD's?" Chris questions. Rather than giving a verbal answer, Minho hums. He didn't have to do that before the session with you, and you let him go raw. Maybe it's only for special event, he thinks.

Chris and Minho approach a booth with a person inside. She wears a plastic smile on her face, hair done perfectly and acrylic nails. "Names please?" Her voice is almost drained out by the moans and slapping sounds coming from the other side. It's just a curtain that covers it, so all sounds can be heard.

A blush quickly finds its way to Chris's face and ears. He's so flustered that Minho has to answer, "Koala and Rino." The lady in the booth seems completely dismissive about what's going on behind the curtain. She looks through a few pages before nodding, "Ah I see you right here. Please enjoy your time, the session ends in about 2 hours."

Lee Know nods in response and grabs Chris by the sleeve the drag him behind the curtain. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He couldn't even comprehend the sight at first. Men were covered in sweat, pants completely down. Cum was stained below where the women were placed. The smell was strong, and it made Chris grimace.

He turned to Minho, expecting the same reaction. Instead, Minho was looking as if he was at heaven's gates. "Isn't it beautiful?" Chris stays quiet rather than answering. Minho walks further in and Christopher trails behind. The women have only their lower body sticking out, some in doggy others in missionary position.

Chan has only seen glory holes in porn, never even considering seeing one in person.

"So here," Minho points at the wall above one of the women, "is the name of the hole. They don't provide pictures, which sucks. If you see a name you like or know, you just basically fuck it. Cum in it, don't come it. Touch it, don't. The main rule is to not reach in the cut out. Keep your hands to what's exposed, or you'll get kicked out. They're pretty strict when it comes to shit like this."

Chris doesn't bother asking how Lee Know knows so much, it's in his name afterall. "I dunno," Chris tentatively looks around the room. Other men seem to have face masks on, but some don't. He can recognize people form TV, the news, even some older politicians. Lee Know sighs, "Bro, they don't care about you. No offense. They're just here to get their dick wet and leave. It's only gay if you make eye contact."

Lee Know's joke lightens the mood, and Chris finds himself laughing alongside him. They did pay a pretty dime to be here for the special event, he might as well enjoy it. The two men go off in their separate ways not long after. It feel weird for Chris to window-shop like this, almost uncomfortable. It's not until he comes across a familiar name that makes his heart skip.

Nyx, he almost sings. You have your ass out at the height of his hips. He takes a few steps closer as if he couldn't believe it's actually you. Chris takes note of your of your swollen clit, the gaping hole, the cum that drips down your thighs. Without thinking, he reaches out his ands to rub your ass. Not sexually, but more in a comforting way. He can tell this takes you by surprise because you jolt.

"Poor baby," he says sympathetically. It's not loud enough for you to hear, but he can't help but want to console you. From the description he read of you before, he thought this was the last place you'd be. His hands stay soft, and he finds himself kneeling. He can feel the wet floor staining his pants, but he doesn't care.

To put on a show, you wiggle your ass for him. You think the man behind you is going to shove himself in, but you feel a hot tongue. You gasp as the sensation. Since you first clock in, no one had eaten you out. You honestly didn't expect anyone to. You're covered in other men's cum, who in their right mind would consider such a thing?

Chris would, in a heartbeat. If it's to soothe you, he would do anything. He feels like he owes you something. Sure he paid you after the last interaction, but it still felt like it wasn't enough. Tasting men's cum isn't pleasant, but hearing your muffled moans though the walls was worth it.

It reminds him of last time, how desperate you sounded with his mouth on you. He wished you could see his face, watching as your mouth twisted in pleasure. Even now, he's still wishing for the same. His mask is pulled down under his chin while he devours you. Your legs struggle to keep you up right, but you stay on your tiptoes.

You can hear him slurping behind you, his hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep you spread. His tongue flicks over your bud and goes back to teasing your entrance. You could feel your arousal seeping out, and that seems to spur him on more. Your hands grip the bar above the bed, and you so desperately want to grip his hair instead.

Despite being here for three hours, you haven't came. You've gotten close to finishing, but men always finished before you did. It left you frustrated, yearning. You pray that the man eating you keeps going until you cum, but you know better than to hope for that. Instead, you try to grind against his face with what little movement you have.

"Shit. You like that baby?" You hear him ask. His voice is vaguely familiar, a twist of a distinct accent you swear you've heard before. You nod though he can't see. "Fuck yes. Don't stop," you moan. Perhaps it wasn't smart to command the client to please you, it's the other way around after all. To your surprise, he keeps going. He has his tongue dip inside your pussy, feeling your smooth walls.

It's so unbelievably sexy of him to eat you out. He must look humiliating; on his knees, sucking out the cum of other men into his mouth, the filthy sounds that leave his throat. He's eating you like he's never had a good meal in his life, like he missed your pussy. His tongue is experienced too, and you can't help but think this is also familiar.

That recognizable knot in your stomach gathers, and you begin shaking. If he pulls away now, you think, I'll quit. You don't even have to tell him you're close, he can feel how you tighten around his tongue. He quickly pulls away and shoves a finger inside before you could complain. It's difficult to eat you out now that his finger is in the way, but he can use his other hand to replace his mouth.

Chris rubs your clit in circles while he pumps you with his other finger. You squeal at the impact, feeling how his hand meets your ass when he goes deep. Your toes curl, eyes roll back to your head, and loudly moan when you cum on his fingers. It's been so long, so long since you've cum from a client. The last time was with that Koala guy, the one with the...accent.

Realization hits you quickly. You don't even have the chance to say anything with how he finger fucks you through your orgasm. "Wait! wait wait wait..." Chris immediately stops when he hears you. He gently removed his hand from you and you almost fall limp. His hands catch your waist and he keeps you up.

"Are you okay?" His voice is full of concern, full of care. Yeah, that can only be one person. You laugh breathlessly, body still quivering from your recent orgasm. "Shit Koala. How long has it been? Like three months?" You imagine he's choked up, unable to answer you. You've had a lot of customers, and it's impossible to remember them all. Koala, however, has left quite the impression on you.

He laughs awkwardly, "Something like that yeah. Uh...how ya been?"

You blow a raspberry and chuckle, "I don't think I'm in a position for a little reunion. You came here to fuck no?" Chris is a little stunned with your words, but agrees. "Yes. Well no. I mean yes, but not like-" he keeps rambling. You take pity on him and decide to take the lead, "No no I get it. You came here to fuck my pussy right?"

Chris feels like his face is on fire. He wish he could deny it, but he can't. He did come here with hopes of seeing you, to feel you again. Sure he could have fucked any girl here, but how could he when he knew you were here. All pretty and prepped for him. "What if I said yes?" he teases. "Would that make you happy?"

It's surprising to hear Koala tease you back, but you're more than happy to oblige. "Hmm...maybe. It's been a while since you've fucked me, might not be as good as before." Chris laughs, hands squeezing your ass, "I think you know you're lying to yourself. Got you cummin' on my tongue in minutes. Imagine what I could do with my cock."

His confidence has you horny. Before, he was pliant and submissive. He's a totally different man now, who knows what happened in three months. It could also be the fact that he can't see you properly, so it gives him some courage to be bold. No matter, you find it beyond attractive.

"All this talking and no fucking," you complain. "Maybe you are rusty."

In all honesty, Chris hasn't really fucked after you. He rarely did in the first place, but he genuinely thinks no one can compete with your cunt. He knows you're joking with him, but it still makes him nervous. Three months is a long time, he might have lack in some aspects now that he's the one taking control.

Still, he's given such a golden opportunity to show you that he can please you. Chris's grip on your ass tightens for a brief second before he grabs ahold of the base of his cock. It's already hard, red from screaming at Chris to put it in. He uses one hand to guide his cock into your abused hole and the other to rub soothing circles on your waist.

You can't help but smile. It doesn't how dirty he can talk or act, he's still a gentleman at heart. The nearly forgotten stretch makes you whimper when he puts his tip in. His cock is hot and can easily slide in with no problem. Despite that, he still take his time. Chris really wants you to feel how you pussy stretches around him, how he can glide against your warm walls.

Your knuckles turn while from gripping the bar so hard. You almost want to scream at him to hurry up and fuck you. Instead, you find yourself whimpering the contact. Your hips move against him to try and slip his dick in. It works a little, feeling his cock roughly an inch deeper. You can hear him moan behind the wall, a breathy higher pitched whine that makes your cunt wetter by the second

"You still sound so pretty," you whisper. You doubt he can hear you from the other men and women fucking, but he does. Little did you know, that he has his ear against the wall. Chris just needs to hear how you sound, what noises you make. He knows he must look so pathetic, and he's grateful that Lee Know is no where in sight.

Finally, he fills you up completely with his girth. Your legs twitch and squeeze together at the intrusion. You can feel the tingles that travel up and down your body from pleasure. Whimpers and moans leave you lips when he starts thrusting. You're thankful for the wall that separates you two. Before, you had tried to remain professional. Now you can be as loud as you please without worrying. Well...that's what you think at least.

The combined feeling of your soft pussy and beautiful moans break Chris's sanity. Both of his hands grip your sides so he could bring you to meet his thrusts. It's so loud and wet, he thinks you two must be the loudest in the room. Chris loves watching as your cunt drools on his cock, leaving strings of arousal on your ass and his thighs.

You're on the verge on tears letting this man fuck you relentlessly. It feels so indescribably amazing, you let your mouth hang open. "Oh fuucckk," Chris hears you groan. Heat and pleasure remain in your lower stomach, slowly building. It's torture with how it feels like too much and not enough all at once.

You find yourself wishing you could use your hand to rub your clit, but the wall prevents that. instead, you try grinding your thighs together tightly for stimulation. It works, but at the cost of choking Koala's dick. He whimpers, almost pained from the sudden tightness. He moves his hands to the inner parts of your thighs and spreads them open in response.

"Gonna break my fuckin' cock," he mumbles, lightly laughing. Chris resumes his thrusts, but he notices the constant moving of your hips. So much so that he even slips out momentarily. He thinks that it's getting too much for you, but the way you're begging for him to shove it back in says otherwise.

"What's the matter baby?" His voice is light. His strokes are softer now, giving you the ability to speak properly. You take a few heavy breaths before answer, "Touch me." You sounds so desperate, so out of your character that Chris almost wants to tease you further.

Almost.

He concludes that you must be getting close, just wanting to extra rubbing to really get off. Chris grants your wish and uses his fingers to rub circles on your clit. Your reaction is immediate, bucking and crying out in gratitude. Chris smiles fondly at how your body replies to his touch. Now he can tease you without feeling guilty.

"What do you saaayy?" He speaks in a sing-songy voice. Had you been fully cognitive, you would've cursed him. You headspace isn't working though, and you find yourself expressing your appreciation quickly. "Thank you daddy. Thank you thank you. I needed it sooo bad."

The pet name throws him off, making him stutter his hips for a split second. Chris deeply blushes at the term, unsure if he hates it or loves it quite yet. "Yeah? You like daddy's big cock in you?" He decides to test it out. Maybe it's because you're beginning to enter the sub-space zone, but you cum unexpectedly on his dick.

Chris feels you twitch around him and convulse. There was no warning, save for how creamy his length had gotten from your excitement. He almost praised you for how beautifully you painted his cock. Chris pulled himself in and out of you slowly to watch the white substance spread.

You couldn't stop moaning, fully crying from the orgasm. You normally had a good gauge on when you could cum and how to prolong it, but Koala had proven to fuck you up in more ways than one. You body shook and hugged his cock practically lovingly. Feeling him slide his dick slowly inside of you only make you wail louder.

Once Chris felt like you had come down enough, he fucked you with intent. He doesn't know how he was able to last this long, but he's chasing his own orgasm now. You can do nothing else but to take it. You groan everything he hits your deep, tip touching your womb. You can feel your cream dripping down your thighs.

This only encourages Chris more to finish. He wants nothing more than to mix your arousals together. Chris throws his head back and groans, letting his dick settle fully inside you when he cums. Hot spurt bursts in your tummy and you moan at the warmth. You usually detest having clients cum in you, the clean up was irritating. Koala, however, is an exception. He's invited to cum where he pleased when it comes to you.

Hearing him though the walls is bliss, and you wish you could see his face. He's probably still wearing that stupid mask, you think.

Chris lets himself give a few more good thrusts before pulling out, leaving you empty. He uses his thumb to spread your pussy lips to look at how your cunt pools his cum out. He hums at the sight, and gives your pussy a slap. You jolt and yelp at the contact, still sensitive.

"Guess I'll take you answer as a yes," he suddenly says.

Rather than leaving, Chris keeps massaging his cum and your own around your lower lips. You sigh contently as you feel him explore your folds. He's not doing it hard enough to give intense pleasure, but enough to feel soothing. It must be a mess down there, but Chris is entranced by the sight.

He so distracted that he didn't hear Lee Know's footsteps coming at the side of him. It's not until Chris feels his presence that he turns. They make eye contact for a moment before Chris straightens up, wiping his wet hands on the wall. The men have a silent exchange of words before Chris withdrawals his hands from you.

Before you can protest, Koala gives you brief reassurance. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You hear his footsteps leave along with another pair of feet. His sudden departure leaves you feeling somewhat cold, but you quickly dismiss the feeling. It's business, nothing personal. It's something you've had to remind yourself for years working this job. This particular instance, though, leaves you more than just your pussy empty.

-

"See you tomorrow," Lee Know mocks Chris's earlier words on the way home. Chris has no choice but to put up with Lee know antics. He keeps rubbing in his face how he got to fuck five different girls while Chris only did one. Not that it really matters to Chris, but he knows that Lee Know is much more aware of his little crush now.

After finishing up his laughter, Lee Know throws an arm over Chris's shoulder. "I'm just teasing you man. But I was right you know. That you would like it." Chris can't help but smile upon seeing his friend's cheesy expression. "Yeah yeah, whatever," he playfully rolls his eyes.

"But really," Lee Know questions, "You'd be down to go again? Just for her?" Chris stops walking for a second to think, eyes up to the sky. The night is clear, stars and moon shining down on them. He doesn't know you well, only that your pussy and his cock belong together. Going to that club often would hurt his wallet over time, but he's starting to think that it may be worth it.

"Yeah, just for her."

a/n: really hope you liked it! feedback is appreciated. I am not planning on making a third part to this imma be honest, but I might write an epilogue if it's highly requested.

update!: third part here

[baddestbittyontheblock]

leah williamson fic recs (1)

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

𖥔 ۫  obsessed leah williamson x reader

-a fic with soft/smitten leah and her teammates making fun of her for it because she’s usually cold and not emotional or soft.

𖥔 ۫  come back... be here. leah williamson x reader

-Leah would tell anyone who asked that she was fine. She had captained the Lionesses to a European Championship, Arsenal was sitting comfortably at the top of the table, and she was on the cover of British GQ. Leah was fine, great even…until she saw you, camera in hand, looking as beautiful as you did the day she first met you; as beautiful as you did the day she fell in love with you; as beautiful as you did the day you left.

OR a post breakup meeting leaves Leah less than fine (though she’d be kidding herself to think she has been anything but broken since you got on that plane to New York).

𖥔 ۫  take a look at my girlfriend (she's the only one i got) leah williamson x reader

-captain leah is proud of all her accomplishments- but calling you her girlfriend is her favourite

𖥔 ۫  oh baby leah williamson x reader | Leah Williamson x Pregnant Actress!Reader, Reader x Platonic Bestie Austin Butler

-Your relationship with Leah has always been a secret to the public. So, when you’re photographed looking very pregnant and hanging out with your best friend, Austin Butler, the internet assumes he is the father. Leah, already hating Austin, gets jealous and wants to announce to the world that you’re married and expecting your first child together.

𖥔 ۫  traitor leah williamson x reader

-Leah and R have started to pursue a relationship with each other. How long will it take for their fans and teammates who are unaware to catch on? part three, you can find part one and part two here.

𖥔 ۫  hoodie leah williamson x reader

-Leah and Reader’s relationship is still building up together. And more people are catching on.

𖥔 ۫  good girls gone bad leah williamson x reader

-inspired by *that* clip

𖥔 ۫  "a williamson would never wear sky blue." leah williamson x reader

𖥔 ۫  public relations leah williamson x reader

𖥔 ۫  flatline leah williamson x reader

𖥔 ۫  sisterly love leah williamson x reader

𖥔 ۫  bedtime stories leah williamson x reader

𖥔 ۫  "you kissed me." leah williamson x reader

-Running off on the adrenaline of winning the Euro's, Leah decides that she doesn't want to hold back how she feels for her childhood best friend

𖥔 ۫  instagram lives with me leah williamson x reader

-the posts that you and leah share on social media

𖥔 ۫  double support leah williamson x reader | alessia russo x reader

-in which; your girlfriends watch you make your return to chelsea after a long haul of recovery.

𖥔 ۫  reconcile. leah williamson x reader

𖥔 ۫  proudest moment leah williamson x reader

𖥔 ۫  only the beginning leah williamson x reader

-This is a follow up Proudest Moment which you can find here!

𖥔 ۫  It’s All Fun and Games... leah williamson x morgan!reader

𖥔 ۫  setbacks leah williamson x bronze!reader

-The Prequels: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five

𖥔 ۫  introductions leah williamson x bronze!reader

𖥔 ۫  the reveal leah williamson x bronze!reader

-Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Setbacks

𖥔 ۫  hoodie leah williamson x reader

𖥔 ۫  well you were leah williamson x reader

𖥔 ۫  meeting morgan leah williamson x reader

-Sisterly Love Masterlist

𖥔 ۫  leah williamson blurb. leah williamson x reader

-Whispering jokes/loving words in a lecture/ school/church/a meeting. Trying not to laugh/ flirt back in fear of disturbing everyone else who's trying to pay attention.

𖥔 ۫  face masks and horror films. leah williamson x reader

-soft girlfriend banter

𖥔 ۫  leah williamson blurb leah williamson x reader

-“If we get caught, I’m blaming you” + “…You can’t make out with someone platonically.” 

𖥔 ۫  lessi and leah blurb leah williamson x reader

𖥔 ۫ “I swear if we get caught I’m actually going to kill you” leah williamson x reader | Fluff mostly, slight sexual references

-Leah’s GF has been busy during her injury period, meaning they’ve been like ships in the night. Reader decides to surprise her at one of her games.

𖥔 ۫ mrs williamson leah williamson x reader

-leah williamson supremecy always, all day every day

𖥔 ۫  ignorance is bliss ficlet leah williamson x reader

-feel free to read the proper full fic that this is a spin off from here

𖥔 ۫  like real people do leah williamson x reader

-a collection of private moments from a relationship between two public figures.

𖥔 ۫  abs leah williamson x reader | SMUT

-you shouldn’t be this distracted by your teammates abs, but its a good thing you are or something between you two never would have happened

𖥔 ۫  how could i ever (treat my baby that way) leah williamson x reader

-You’d think that between the chilly air coming out of the air conditioning in the room and the freezing cold drink in your hand that you’d be comfortably cool, body not overheating despite being in a slightly crowded bar. 

𖥔 ۫  i'm so furious (at you for making me feel this way) leah williamson x reader

-“What? You’re not gonna say ‘hi’?”

𖥔 ۫ first steps leah williamson x reader | fluff, boyfriend!leah, leah's first day back (fully)

-its leah first day running post-acl surgery and she's upset you're not able come, but viv, beth, and laura have a surprise for her

𖥔 ۫ playgirl leah williamson x reader | 18 + minors dni (smut, fingering, cunnilingus,) lots of angst, smut, hurt, fluff, fluffy soft smut

𖥔 ۫ I'd follow you around the world leah williamson x reader

𖥔 ۫ heels leah williamson x reader

-+ the gucci exhibition outfit

-𖥔 ۫ obvious leah williamson x fem!reader | blurb, fluff

-leah thinks she is slick, but she is quite the opposite

-𖥔 ۫ handyman leah williamson x fem!reader

-"-love do you have to stop at every single display room?" leah sighed with a tired smile as you collapsed on yet another sofa you had no intention of buying. "lee it's all a part of the experience! come, sit with me." you patted the brown leather with a beaming grin that leah just couldn't say no to as she wandered over and sat beside you.

-𖥔 ۫ work wife leah williamson x reader

-reader is Leah’s girlfriend and an Aussie or an American but plays for Arsenal and is the same age as less? so Leah requests they befriend less and make her feel welcome but then they become besties and Leah gets all pouty and jealous which reader finds hilarious cause her and less are just friends but she loves to wind Leah up

-𖥔 ۫ i licked it so its mine a.russo x l.williamson x reader

-katie’s story of “I licked it so it’s mine”, inspired a funny crack blurb with Leah x Less x Reader

-𖥔 ۫ all yours leah williamson x reader x lia wälti | fluff, angst, confessions of love, lack of taking care of themselves

-when r finds out that their two bestfriends (and secret crushes) have gotten together on a trip they go into a meltdown of feeling left out and unloved - lw2 sort them out and show them just how loved they are by the two of them

-𖥔 ۫ lucky charms leah williamson x reader

-leah wearing this rly full cross body bag to all the games so far and I’ve just thought how does a girl need so much stuff with her to watch the game?! Maybe a fic where Leah’s gf questions her about the cross body bag, she gets all shy and it turns out she’s carrying something of her gfs (lucky item, fav t shirt etc) to bring luck for the game.

-𖥔 ۫ losing leah williamson x reader

-you’d never felt more heart broken in your life than you did in this moment. Looking out at a crowd of people you didn’t know, a crowd of people that were feeling a fraction of the disappointment you were. You’d collapsed to the grass as soon as the whistle had blown, your heart shattering into a million pieces on the pitch. You’d worked your ass off, your whole team had worked their asses off, and yet you’d still fallen short, it still wasn’t enough.

-𖥔 ۫ asthma attacks leah williamson x reader | sickness angst and heart warming fluff

[mongrel-mage]

A Spoiler-free review of Edge of Sleep

Fucking incredible. Like...9/10 and the only reason I say so is because there were only 6 20-ish minute episodes and I wanted the show to be longer and give us more backstory on the characters and such. It'll be a bit longer of a post, but rest assured that there are no spoilers under the link.

Main differences from the podcast, but still minor: the character of The Trespasser does not feature in the show, nor do Dave's story about the Moobles and the ensuing hallucinations he describes. However, I was satisfied with how they used the information from The Trespasser's subplot in the actual TV show, and there was a little reference to him at the beginning of Episode 5 that made me smile, so I'm really not that fussed about those things being missing.

I'm going to take a minute to rave about Eve Harlow, who plays Linda. What a goddamn POWERHOUSE of an actress, honestly. Perfect casting. She nailed a character who is tough as iron, focused, determined, and intelligent without making Linda come across as unnecessarily cold or unlikeable--I'll go so far to say that Linda was my favorite character (by a slim margin, but still there). Eve Harlow has an incredibly expressive face and eyes that convey complex emotions without relying on the same few expressions or overacting what she's feeling. I really want to see her get some sort of awards or accolades for her performance because she carried damn near all of her scenes.

Let's talk about Mark. I already knew that he could act well because I'd watched his other projects, but most/if not all of them have at least some level of comedy, humor, or character who lightens the mental load at least a little bit. We all know that he's a giggly bitch and likes to have fun, and there's nothing wrong with that. That said, I'm comfortable saying that Edge of Sleep is easily his most ambitiously dramatic project--there was a lot of raw stress, grief, anger, and pain that Dave Torres went through, and I was impressed at how well Mark portrayed it. It's obvious how much he tries and how hard he cares; it's so clear that this wasn't some celebrity vanity project. You can really feel the love and the energy and the care that he put into this, and I was, like I said, impressed at his range as a drama/horror actor. There were some moments and expressions he had in the show (namely in the first episode, when the people at the party are giving Dave a hard time about his sleep disorder and past episodes) that hit me unexpectedly hard. Amazing performance, Mark. I'm proud of you.

I also want to take another moment to rave about the makeup and hair department. Standing ovation. The gradual increase of the characters' exhaustion and general levels of dishevelment (the thing that stuck with me the most was Linda's makeup and hair, SO good) looked very real and read well on camera. Anyone who knows me irl knows what a freak I am for good practical effects/makeup, and I want to make sure that those artists are acknowledged and appreciated. I'm also going to throw in some kudos for whoever was behind the Elephant Monster--that thing was FUCKED UP (/pos). I love a Creature and it was sufficiently more disturbing than I had expected it to be, since The Elephant isn't given much of a description in the podcast. I'm not sure if it was practical effects or something computer generated, but whatever it was it was amazing. Hats off to the Creature Crew!

Lastly: I WANT SEASON TWO. GIVE IT TO ME. I WANT TO RIP IT APART WITH MY TEETH. I HAVE BEEN GOOD AND COHERENT FOR THIS LONG NOW GIVE ME MORE.

Also. I promised no spoilers and there shall be none. But that last shot of the last episode? fucking HAUNTING. Here's hoping that us catapulting Edge of Sleep to the TOP FIVE, BEFORE THE OFFICIAL LAUNCH, will seriously throw some weight to whoever can decide to give us a second season.

[billybob598]

Wanna Know Something? (Mary Earps x Reader)

Yoooooo, i posteddddd. I know, I haven't written anything in so long, my bad lol. Hopefully this makes up for it. Remember, any feedback good or bad is welcomed. Enjoy reading!

Word Count: 1.6k (wtfff idk how i did that ngl)

“Hey, good luck today,” you hear somebody whisper. Turning to look at the speaker you see Mary reaching out her fist towards you. You smile and bring her into a hug.

“Good luck querida,” (darling) you mumble into her ear. Mary places a soft and discreet onto your neck, your legs almost give out at the action. As you pull away you reach out to Leah who was ahead of both of you. She turns and gives a quick hug to you, her Arsenal teammate.

“Vamos Y/N,” Rafaelle says over her shoulder as the officials start to move forward. You quickly get back to your line and try to focus on the game ahead. 

Mary had been your girlfriend for almost a year now. You were the starting goalkeeper for Arsenal and Brazil. Sometimes, you couldn’t believe that Mary loved you, she was so amazing, so funny, so kind, one of the best people you knew for sure. Now, you were playing against each other in the Finalissima. This was a big match. Brazil was hungry to prove that they could compete against top European teams and this was a perfect opportunity. When the national anthems start to play you feel a sense of pride grow inside of your chest. Here you were, in front of a packed Wembley Stadium, playing against your girlfriend for a trophy. It doesn’t get much better than that. 

As you near the goal you’ll be protecting you do your pre-game traditions. Touch the left post first, then the right, then jump and touch the crossbar. After, you sprint to the edge of the 18-yard box, kneel, and say a quick prayer. Done. You mentally lock in for what you know will be a tough match.

At halftime, you’re frustrated. England had been controlling most of the ball, they had also gotten a few shots on target. You could do nothing more when Toone finished off a fantastic build-up by England in the twenty-third minute. All throughout Pia’s halftime talk you are planning a speech to the team. Just before you guys head back out, you stand in the middle of the locker room and start to speak,

“Listen, I know everyone out there is rooting against us, so let’s use that to our advantage. Let it fuel us, make us hungry to beat them. They came to see an England win, not a Brazil one. Let’s show them why we are Copa America champions!” This gets everybody fired up. You can sense the shift in the energy of the team, everyone is excited and motivated to prove themselves. The second half is a different story than the first. While England still controls most of the ball, your Brazilian team was creating more chances, being quicker on the counterattack, and finally starting to test Mary. As the game heads into stoppage time, you can feel your heart start to sink. You feel yourself start to lose hope. Then, out of nowhere, Mary bobbles the ball and Andressa jumps all over it, putting it in the back of the net. You scream, jumping up and down with excitement. Soon after that full-time is called. Taking a deep breath, you calm your nerves before the penalty shoot-out. Your goalkeeper coach reminds you of all of England’s penalty takers habits. 

After giving your teammates fist bumps and high fives, you make your way towards Mary and the ref who are already waiting for you. The ref runs through all the penalty rules for you guys. When she finishes speaking and leaves the two of you alone, you turn to Mary and with a smirk reach your fist to her. She grins at you and moves to fist bump you, only for you to dodge it at the last second. She shoves you with a playful smile tugging at her lips. You laugh, before starting the walk to the goal. 

England has the first penalty. You jump up and down on your goalline, doing jumping jacks trying to distract Stanway. As she takes her first step, you analyze her, deciding to dive to your right. It turns out to be the right decision, but you can’t quite get enough to push it out of the net. You groan as the ball ends up behind you. When Mary gets a hand on Adriana’s shot you hold your breath, only to release it as it rolls into the back of the net. When Ella Toone lines up to take the penalty you know where she is going. You dive to your left, reaching your hand out to block the ball. It bounces off your hand, and for a second you can’t believe it, you saved it. The ecstasy is short-lived however, as you watch the ball roll back towards the penalty spot your head smashes into something quite hard. The post. You black out immediately. Most of the fans groan at the missed penalty. Toone turns away and starts to make her way back to her team. Mary’s the first one to realize something is wrong when you don’t get back up right away. She runs over to you, turning you over to see your eyes closed and a massive gash on the side of your head. Panic overwhelms her body, she grabs a hold of your face trying to get you to wake up. Your Brazilian teammates rush over, all screaming for medics. Rafaelle reaches you and checks for a pulse. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when she finds one. Some of your fellow Brazilians wince at the amount of blood coming out of your head.

“Come on baby, please wake up,” Mary begs to your limp body, “wake up for me please.”

The medics finally reach you, they wrap something around your head to try and stop the bleeding. Geyse takes your girlfriend’s arm and slowly moves her away from the situation. Mary feels tears start to sting her eyes as she watches the EMTs load you onto a stretcher and take you straight to an ambulance. Wembley breaks out in thunderous applause as you get taken away from the field. The backup goalie jogs onto the field while slipping on her gloves. Mary is conflicted, on one hand, she wants to go to the hospital with you and make sure you’re okay. On the other hand, she knows she can’t just bail and that she has to finish the rest of the shoot-out. She decides to stay on the field with the knowledge that she’s going to dedicate the last few penalties to you. 

Mary saves two of the last three and lets out a warrior yell when Kelly sinks her last penalty. She’s so happy and proud that she almost forgets about your condition. Almost. When she sees Rafaelle talking to Leah with a solemn look on her face she rushes over eager to see if your best friend had heard anything about you.

“So?” Mary looks at her expectantly.

“She’s still out, but she’s stable. So far everything is okay.” Mary breathes a sigh of relief at the news. 

“I’m gonna head there now,” the English goalkeeper decides, moving towards the locker rooms. Leah grabs her arm.

“We have to do the trophy lift,” her captain tells her. 

“Leah, come on, can’t I just go see her?” Mary asks.

“You can go right after, but you should be there for the trophy lift, at least.” Mary nods, sighing. During the celebrations, Mary is just going through the motions. She tries to hurry up the process so she can go see you. Finally, Leah gives her the go-ahead and she rushes to the hospital. When she reaches the hospital reception she’s panting heavily,

“I’m here for Y/N Y/L/N,” she says in between heavy breaths. The receptionist nods and shows her to your room. Mary slowly enters, confused when she hears the TV on. Fully opening the door, she’s met with you grinning at her with your arms spread wide.

“Congratulations! Finalissima winners, that’s pretty cool!” You say brightly. You cock your head to one side when your girlfriend doesn’t respond instead just staring at you. “You okay?” She doesn’t answer, opting to hug you. The air gets knocked out of you, but you hug back.

“Oh my God, Y/N. Y-You were bleeding and w-weren’t moving or an-anything,” she chokes out, tears streaming down her face. You kiss the top of her head gently.

“Don’t worry querida. I’m right here, see?” You gently whisper to her, tilting her head up so that her eyes meet yours. “I’m okay.”

“You’re okay,” she nods looking like she’s trying to convince herself. You nod and wipe the tears off of her cheeks delicately. You scoot over and pat the space beside you. She hesitates for a second before giving in and getting into the hospital bed with you. You guys cuddle as you watch the Lionesses celebrations on the TV. She can tell you’re starting to doze off so she whispers into your ear,

“We would’ve won even if you were in the net.” You smirk slightly.

“In your dreams Earps. We all know I would have saved at least one of those.” She rolls her eyes at your antics and kisses the top of your head,

“Just go to sleep, love.”

“Wanna know something?” Mary gives you a questioning look, prompting you to continue. “Metal posts are really, really hard. I would not recommend ramming your head into them. You might not feel great for a bit after.”

[nalpurey]

in honor of the 10 months anniversary of my first ever drabble i never posted, i present to you: my first ever drabble i never posted. yippee

cw: femdom, malesub, both are afab, mentions of sa, overall fluffy playful smut. it’s scrlm btw <3

also this takes place after scara’s story quest. people were headcanoning he’d join us in our travels so yeah<3

here goes nothing

As the flames danced, their shadows cast wide on the ground. Lumine yawned, feeling settled in the familiarity of the campsite. Her traveling companion was always full of surprises, and tonight was no exception. He had requested a sleeping bag in their shared tent, much to her disbelief. “What? Just because I don’t need to doesn’t mean I can’t,” he had said, grinning mischievously. Lumine had rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile at his antics.

The two had lit a bonfire and were sitting close to one another, quietly and secretly enjoying the warmth and company of each other’s presence.

Lumine subconsciously stared at her companion. She couldn’t help but notice the way the wanderer winced imperceptibly as the weight of his body pressed against an apparently sore muscle. Lumine saw the way he stood up and straightened his back, only to wince once again as he sat back down. It was clear to her that he was in pain, and it was clear that this was something he was used to, but she still frowned.

“Are you hurt?” She carefully asked, slightly tilting her head to the side.

The wanderer shook his head, not even looking at her. “It’s nothing worth mentioning.”

The traveler sighed. We’ve been traveling companions for a while now, and he still isn’t opening up. Sure, he should take his time, but he has no reason to not trust me after what we’ve done to protect each other…

“You know,” she started in a sweet voice, staring at the dancing flames, “it’s pretty normal to get hurt, or even just have a sore back, when you do nothing but wander around and fight monsters all day. Just let me help you.”

He shook his head again, but his voice had softened. “I don’t… need healing.”

Lumine decided not to ask if that was just another way to say no or he actually didn’t need any healing as a puppet.

“But you’re in pain”, Lumine insisted. “You won’t let me heal you, so at least let me cook you some food, give you a massage or something.”

“A massage?” At the wanderer’s seemingly disgusted frown, Lumine only nodded. “But why?”

“It’ll help your muscles relax”, she responded with a smile.

He rolled his eyes. Though he was doing his best to appear indifferent, he was curious about what she would do. He stared at her hands for a couple seconds, wondering if it would have been that bad to have those soft fingers touching his skin.

“Fine then. Do your worst.”

Oh, he just had to make it into a challenge, didn’t he?

She smiled a bit widely this time. She felt like this could help them get closer. She already considered him an ally, but she wanted him to acknowledge that; to see for himself what it meant to have a companion to place his trust in.

He took off his kimono and pulled down the top part of his bodysuit. His pale rosy skin looked soft, and as perfect as a doll’s. Looking a bit more carefully, Lumine couldn’t help but notice five fading rounded scars on the center of his back. The one in the middle was bigger than the others, and those were undoubtedly the marks his puppet strings had left.

“So? Are you gonna do something, or—”

He freezed upon feeling her warm hand trace up his spine.

“Mnnh…”

“Good?”

He bit his lip. “Shut it.”

“You’re tense. Are you always like this, or…” She stopped herself, her attention being caught by something else. A small symbol on the highest part of his back. It didn’t look like a scar, it was more like a birthmark. She let her curiosity get the better of her and slid her thumb over the mark, softly. “What’s this?” She asked simultaneously.

Tingly waves of pure electricity shot through his body, running straight to his crotch, and the wanderer couldn’t prevent a soft moan of sheer pleasure from escaping his slightly parted lips.

Lumine stopped her thumb immediately. “Did I hurt you?” She asked with urgency.

“What? No. Of course not. I’m not that fragile.”

Encouraged, the traveler pressed a bit harder on the spot. Her thumb drew slow circles along the mark, until…

“Ahn… please…”

Lumine made a surprised sound, golden eyes widening.

The red-faced wanderer hastened to clarify, “That… slipped out.”

But she had already stopped. “Please what, though? Are you sure this isn’t an uncomfortable place for you to—”

“Shut up, it wasn’t a please stop.”

“Then what was it?”

“It was nothing.”

She only let out a chuckle. She really wanted to be friends (or maybe even more) with him, but right now she couldn’t resist teasing him. “Maybe you find this arousing,” she suggested with a shrug. “This one is probably a sweet spot of yours, am I right?” The wanderer parted his lips to speak, but her thumb found itself on the birthmark again and he had to close them shut to suppress the noise he felt bubbling up his throat. “It’s really pretty, though. It’s a mitsudomoe, right? Very pretty…”

The wanderer could barely focus on her praise, completely absorbed by the feeling of Lumine tracing circles around such a sensitive part of his body.

Until she realized this could probably not help his sore back. Much to the wanderer’s disappointment, she went back to massaging his back, and yes— that helped a lot, but it just didn’t feel as good.

It was pretty relaxing, though. Lumine’s touch was delicate, careful. It was completely new to him.

Maybe being in the traveler’s company wasn’t that bad.

: : :

He looked so… serene in his sleep. He looked like nothing in the world could ever disturb his slumber. Why wasn’t he always like this? The traveler could only wonder why he didn’t sleep more often, since it made him so calm and peaceful. Maybe if he had slept like this every night he wouldn’t have been so short tempered.

Most of his clothes were lying forgotten in an angle of their tent, neatly folded.

She didn’t even realize she was staring at him, his tiny, immobile sleeping figure, his pink synthetical lips that were just barely pressing against each other, his relaxed brows, his smooth and perfect skin… yes, nothing could ever disturb his slumber…

“Mmgh… hah…” The puppet’s eyebrows started to furrow, and his body began to tremble ever so slightly. The traveler let out a sigh. Oh, she should have expected him to have nightmares. The wanderer was muttering something incomprehensible, so she got a bit closer, trying to make out what he was saying.

“D-don’t…”

Oh, here it comes. What will it be?

Lumine touched his shoulder, trying to wake him from his presumed nightmare.

Will it be… “don’t hurt me”? “Don’t betray me”? “Don’t abandon me”? “Don’t—”

“Don’t stop…”

Her eyes widened. If only she looked down a bit lower, a quick glance at the bottom of his tight bodysuit would have been enough to tell just how soaked wet he was.

In fact, at some point, during her attempts at waking him up, she somehow noticed the dark spot of wetness between his legs.

A subtle smirk crept onto the golden haired traveler’s face.

He looked so irresistible, and she couldn’t stop staring. She even forgot she was trying to wake him up.

The wanderer’s squirming and tossing around only increased in frequency, finally awaking him.

He blinked once. Twice.

“Were you having a dream?” Lumine enquired innocently.

“Not your business…” he replied, looking away so that she couldn’t see his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “How could you tell…?” He quickly added as soon as he realized he could have said or done something in his sleep.

“Call it intuition or whatever.” She shrugged. “It’s not hard to tell if someone’s dreaming if they keep making noise. Was it a bad dream? Or was it about what we discussed earlier?”

He shuddered, rolling onto his side. “Not. Your. Business.”

“I’m assuming it was?” The traveler challenged.

“I said it’s not your business.” The wanderer responded.

“How about you tell me—” He cut her off.

“How about you go to sleep and leave me alone?”

The traveler couldn’t help but chuckle at his defensive aggressivity. “Fine, fine. Goodnight Kuni.”

He didn’t say anything in response.

Lumine ignored him back and wrapped a warm blanket around herself, facing the other way. Not even a minute had passed when the wanderer softly called out to her.

“What is it?”

“Can we… share that?” He was pointing at the blanket.

“Are you sure? You don’t look like you’re cold.”

“Shut up.”

She was right, actually. She always was. He was feeling as hot as he didn’t recall ever feeling, but for some reason he wanted Lumine to be close to him, and sharing a blanket was the only way he considered. There was no way he would explicitly ask her to come closer.

She sat up, scooted closer and pulled the blanket onto him. “Sleep well.” No response again.

She lied back down, on her side, facing away from him.

The wanderer was glad she couldn’t see him squeezing his legs together and rubbing his thighs against each other, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable, hot wetness that was only growing and growing between his folds. As it grew, he noticed he was starting to breathe, loudly— he just couldn’t help it. This feeling was too much, he wanted it gone. He didn’t even need to breathe, why did it feel so necessary yet so difficult right now?

He pressed his forehead against the nape of the traveler’s neck, making her chuckle quietly. Feeling her warmth against himself was somehow relieving, but it also made his body shake with desire and want.

He muffled a groan of discomfort by covering his mouth with his hand.

“Fuck… Lumi—”

“I’m still awake, you know. Do you need something?��� She sleepily muttered.

“Ugh…”

“Won’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” She insisted softly. “I can help you.”

The wanderer wanted it. So badly— but he still had his pride. He shook his head, even though Lumine was facing the other side and couldn’t see him.

She took his silence as a no, anyway. “… Alright. Goodnight again.”

“… ‘Night”, he replied this time, in a small voice. He was determined to let the overwhelming feeling go away on his own…

But a few minutes later, he couldn’t care less. He tapped her shoulder lightly, swallowed his pride and breathed out a whispery “… Help?”

The traveler sat up again, her golden eyes shining, as if she’d been waiting for that moment. She raised an eyebrow, looking at him and waiting for him to say something more.

To which the wanderer furrowed his brows and muttered something that sounded like “come on”.

“What do you want?” Lumine asked innocently, raising a brow.

“Stop talking and do something already!” He whined impatiently, forcefully grabbing one of her wrists and directing her hand to his abdomen, not daring to push it lower— maybe hoping she would do that herself. She smiled, running her fingers up to his chest instead. At her caress, his body relaxed against the thin mattress.

“Lower”, he demanded.

But she liked his chest too much to just leave it alone already. She put both of her hands to use; while one massaged his chest through his bodysuit, the other traced its way to his lower stomach, then even lower, then some more, until it was resting on his clothed sex.

As soon as he felt her touch, the wanderer inhaled sharply, his body tensing up. The hand that was caressing his upper body found a nipple and focused its attention on it, earning delicious moans from him and helping him loosen up some more. His eyes were glued to her as soon as she started moving her hand. She really was handling him with care. The combination of her touch and the embarrassment of the situation, of how she looked so serious and focused on him, was really getting to him.

The more Lumine rubbed his clit through the fabric, the more he felt the urge to strip off and expose himself for her. He struggled to remove his bodysuit, and the traveler lent him a hand as soon as she noticed. Once free of his clothing, he laid back down, putting himself on display. The traveler licked her lips.

He was completely flushed red from his face to his chest, his weakened arms resting above his head, his hardened nipples demanding more attention, his parting legs tempting her, his blue eyes silently begging her to touch him. So she did, and he whimpered imperceptibly when her hand made direct contact with his clit for the first time. Not feeling any friction, but only a somehow unsatisfying contact, he moved his hips closer to her, but much to his displeasure she withdrew her finger. He let out a soft cry. He was feeling so good, why did it have to stop already?

“Are you playing with me?” He whined, trying to sound intimidating. “If you’re only doing this to annoy me, might as well…”

He trailed off, observing her. She was giving her thumb a few licks, carefully wetting it before placing it on his engorged clit and moving in slow circles, as two fingers of her other hand held up the hood. To which the wanderer could only shut his eyes, throw his head back and let out a long “oohh…”, pleasantly surprised at just how good it felt.

He wasn’t used to this.

Her pointer finger slid down, passed his urethra and pressed against the slit. Her thumb was still working his clit, circling it at a steady pace. Feeling that she wasn’t speeding up, the wanderer complained in a breathy voice. “That’s… too slow.”

She gradually picked up the pace, lubing her finger with his juices to help it slide inside his hole. She looked at him. His eyes were tightly shut and his closed fists were grasping the blanket they were sharing earlier. She was being careful with her movements, afraid to hurt him. “Hey, Kuni. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”, she asked, slightly tilting her head to the side.

“Not of… my own will”, he responded through clenched teeth.

Oh.

That wasn’t completely unexpected.

The traveler removed her clean hand from his body to caress his cheeks.

“I’m… sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s… nothing, really.” He gave a nod of his head to signal her to keep going from where she had stopped.

She experimentally moved her finger, but he had gotten tighter. Thinking back about what happened had apparently made him tense up again. “I, uh… I don’t want to hurt you”, Lumine stated. He looked away. He knew it would hurt if she pushed inside him right now.

Sensing his anxiety, she straddled him and softly placed a kiss on his cheek. Her right hand lightly grazed the sensitive birthmark on his higher back, as she continued leaving kisses on his face. The wanderer made a little smile, and let out soft noises and hums of pleasure, while she showered him with affection by pecking his forehead, cheeks, and even the tip of his nose.

“My— my lips too.”

“Alright.”

Complying with his request, Lumine kissed him on the lips. His lips parted, letting her tongue in as soon as he felt it prodding his mouth. She adjusted her position so that her knee was now in between his legs, and he started to roll his hips against it immediately, moaning into her mouth. The friction felt so good on his clit, and now he just wanted more, more, more.

When their lips parted, Lumine kissed his neck, softly nibbling and sucking on it, relishing in the way he tilted his head back to expose his body even further, curving himself to get her to do more, every single cell of him screaming “take me, and do whatever you want to me”. And desiring nothing more than that.

She cupped his chest with both hands and gently fondled his porcelain skin. The wanderer was breathing heavily, completely lost in the feeling of the soft skin of his neck being marked by her mouth and his sensitive nipples being stimulated this delicately. His folds started to lubricate again as he rubbed himself against her leg, hips bucking furiously. His hands feebly grasped the traveler’s golden hair, trying to push her further onto his body. He guided her where he wanted her attention, and the traveler found herself licking and suckling on a nipple. His other breast, small enough to fit in her palm, savored the traveler’s caresses. He could feel something hot churn into his lower stomach. The feeling was slowly taking over his entire body, it was like a drug, and now he needed more.

“Lumine… it feels good, ahh…”

The traveler smiled against his skin. They were making progress.

“Lumine. I think I’m ready.”

“Mhm?”

“Yes. You… won’t need to go easy on me.”

“Well, I’m still going to make this as comfortable as I can.”

He smiled imperceptibly, nothing but pure love in his eyes. He gave a slight nod of his head to encourage her. “Come inside… Lumine.”

Her finger found itself back where it was earlier, circling the hole before slowly sliding in. Her body was moving on its own, as if it was on autopilot.

“N-ngh…”

She gradually pushed her finger deeper, observing his face to make sure it wasn’t too overwhelming for him. “Is this okay?”

The wanderer nodded frantically. This felt way better than he had imagined. “More… more…” he managed to squeeze out, his voice sounding broken and hoarse. “Go deeper…” He was sweating, so much so that his skin looked a bit shiny from the moisture.

“You’ve got to call me ma’am for that”, Lumine said.

“In your dreams. I’m not calling you that,” he mumbled.

She chuckled. “I wasn’t serious, dummy.” And as proof, her finger went deeper. The wanderer instantly forgot Lumine had been teasing him.

“Oohh… nnh… just like that…”

Encouraged, the traveler kept rubbing his inner walls with care, searching for that one spot that would have her Kuni crying out in pleasure.

The wanderer was lost in a trance-like state. His ocean eyes were unfocused and teary, and a bit of drool could be spotted at the corner of his mouth.

When Lumine’s skilled lips made contact with his clit, pressing a loving kiss on it, Kuni’s eyes went wide and he whimpered slightly in surprise. He lost his composure once again when she began to give it the softest kitten licks, sloppily throwing his leg over Lumine’s shoulder, making it easier to buck his pussy right into her mouth as she licked at his hardened clit.

“Haah… ma’am, feels so good…”

The traveler could feel blood rushing to her cheeks. And her crotch.

She was feeling like his pleasure was the only purpose of her life. She lapped up all the delicious juices that came out of him, her gentle licks turning into messy and frantic sucks.

And the wanderer, oh, he was long gone. Weakly holding Lumine’s free hand, occasionally squeezing it when he felt like the pleasure was too much for his body to handle, he’d never felt as good as he was feeling now. His head thrown back in heavenly bliss, resting on the blanket he had used to lie to the traveler and get this in exchange— oh, it’d been so worth it, he kept thinking. He would have done it again and again if it meant feeling the same pleasure he was feeling now.

The traveler was so gentle with him. Did he even deserve her gentleness?

“Kuni? Are you feeling alright?”

Warm juices trickled down her chin as she lifted her head from his crotch to make sure he was okay. Placing a hand on the underside of his thigh, she waited for his nod to start eating him out again.

“I’m feeling... a little more than alright.”

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 1

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC) other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Not much in this first chapter. Some mentions of death and violence. I don't want to give away everything, but there are also some angsty mother/daughter moments, so be warned.

Word Count: 3468

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

The divider at the top and bottom were created by @saradika

Series Master List

Dean punched open the flap of the canvas tent that he'd called home for the last several years. Sometimes he really missed having a door to slam. 

Or a wall to punch a hole through, he thought as he tossed down his duffel bag full of weapons. At least the bag made a satisfying thunk against the plywood floor.

They'd lost three men on their latest raid. The raid was successful; they'd pilfered enough medication from a pharmacy in Omaha to see them through the next few months. But the reason it was the only pharmacy within a two hundred mile radius that had any meds left, was because it also happened to be Croat central. 

It was swarming with the bastards. His soldiers had done a good job holding them off, but it had eventually led to ground fighting and three soldiers had been bitten. He'd put them down quick and quiet. But it made for a long drive home.

Home, he scoffed as he dropped onto the side of his cot. Home my ass.

As he rubbed his hand across his forehead, his tent flap opened again. He also missed privacy.

One of the soldiers that had been left behind to protect the camp, stood awkwardly for a moment before Dean barked at him. 

“Not now, Johnston.”

“Uh…” the man hemmed and hawed for a moment more. “There's a…an urgent situation, sir.”

Dean let out a huff. “There's always an urgent fucking situation. I said ‘not now’!” Dean's voice was sharp and angry. All he wanted was five minutes.

Used to having his orders obeyed, especially when they were issued in his harshest tone, Dean turned away and started to light the lamp beside his cot. Before he could spark the match however, Johnston was clearing his throat annoyingly.

“Jesus Christ, what?” Dean snapped.

“I'm sorry, sir…but Castiel, well he…he has a…a situation with a woman.”

Dean’s glare could melt ice. “What woman?”

“I think…he wants - he said he wanted to see you as soon as you were back.”

Dean ground his teeth together and tossed down the matchbook. He gestured angrily for Johnston to lead the way.

He followed the timid man through a maze of tents, aware of the eyes that followed him. He was used to that feeling. People in the camp always looked at him like that - with a mixture of awe and fear on their faces. To most of the survivors he was a little bit legend, a little bit savior, and a whole lot scary.

He was always given a wide berth.

But something more was in the air today. The evening breeze seemed to be buzzing with whispers that followed him up the stairs and into the main hall. It was one of the only wooden structures in the camp, and definitely the biggest. It was where they all gathered together when they needed to. 

He pushed through the squeaky door to find the angel standing in the middle of the room, just in front of one of the dozen massive, twenty-person, metal tables that had been constructed for large group projects like bomb making, or supply divvying. 

Dean tried to look past Cas when it became obvious there was a person behind him, sitting on the floor. But Cas just shifted so he couldn't see whoever it was, which only made Dean’s scowl intensify. Cas held out his hands towards him. 

“Okay, Dean. now just listen.” 

Dean didn’t like the sound of that, or the placating tone the angel was taking. “What the fuck is going on here, Cas?” He tried again to peer around him at the person on the floor, but Cas shifted his footing again to keep them hidden.

“You have to…before you do anything, just,,,you have to look at her. Really look.” 

He moved out of the way slightly and Dean could finally see a woman sitting on the ground. Her head was bent and around her wrists were manacles connected to heavy chains that yoked her to the immoveable table. Dean was about to once again ask what the hell was going on when the woman looked up at him and he saw her eyes - saw the perfect, blood red circle around her iris. 

Dean’s razor sharp instincts reacted without conscious thought, and his gun was out of his thigh holster and cocked, with his finger ready to pull the trigger in under two seconds. It was only Cas jumping in front of the woman again that managed to just stop him firing.

But Dean kept his gun pointing at the woman’s head, even though it was now hidden on the other side of the angel's body. 

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He bellowed at the man who used to be his best friend, back when he still had friends. “She’s infected! Get out of the fucking way!”

Cas had his hands up again and was shaking his head. “No, Dean, look at her. Yes, her eyes show she should be infected, and yes she was bitten, but…just look at her. She’s not infected.”

Dean’s jaw ticked with his fury. “Yeah well, give it a couple hours and she’ll be strong enough to bust those fucking chains. Now, move!” He roared again. 

But Cas took a step backwards, closer to the woman on the ground. “No, it’s been days.” He looked over his shoulder. “Right?”

The woman’s voice was soft. “Almost a week.”

Dean scoffed. “Bullshit!” He shouted, unable to believe the angel’s naivete. “She’s lying.”

Cas was shaking his head and looking at Dean again. “Her arm, where she was bitten, it’s healed up.” He called back to her. “Hold your arm out.”

The chains rattled and Dean saw a slightly grubby arm stick out from behind Cas’ legs. Sure enough there was a bite on the outside of her forearm that looked pretty much healed. Dean felt something uncertain shift in his belly, but he shook it off. He knew better.

“So she’s a quick healer. She’ll still turn into a monster sooner or later. Now. Move.” He gave Cas a glare that had made lesser men crumble. But the angel refused.

“No, Dean, this might be something huge.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but the woman’s small voice spoke first. “Please. I just needed to get my daughter to safety.”

Dean leveled another glare at Cas. “Daughter?” He asked.

The woman continued speaking and Dean tried to see any part of her around Cas’ body. “We were living in the Billings camp near Piedmont, Emma and I. We’d been there just a few months when the camp was attacked. They lost a lot of people, and I got bitten. When the fighting ended and the Croats were all dead, the leaders started checking us all for bites. I knew they were going to kill me and I understood what had to happen, but I wanted them to promise Emma would be safe, but they wouldn’t.”

Dean’s hand had lowered slightly, enough that Cas shifted aside again so Dean could see the woman talking. There were tears falling from her bloodshot eyes and she lifted the heavy chains so she could wipe them away before continuing.

“She'd fallen on some debris in the mess, long after the Croats had been put down, and she had a scratch on her leg. They were sure she was infected too. But she’s not.” She shook her head vehemently. “They were going to kill her. I…I couldn’t let them. So I shoved them down, fought them off, grabbed Emma and ran. We’ve been running for almost a week. I’d heard about this camp, so I headed this way. I was terrified I was going to change before I could get Emma to some semblance of safety. But…it just never happened.”

She shrugged and shifted slightly. Her movement brought the barrel of Dean’s gun back up a fraction of an inch. She stared at the pistol for a moment and then caught his eye again.  “I just wanted somewhere for her to be safe. I understand that you want me dead. I’m…” Her throat caught and she closed her eyes and took in a deep, steadying breath. “But….” She opened her eyes again and a slight smile curved her lips.

“You don’t…you probably don’t remember me, but a long time ago - I was barely sixteen - you…you saved me.”

Dean knew he must not have hidden his surprise very well when her smile deepened. It occurred to Dean in that moment that she was really, remarkably beautiful, in spite of the dirt and the bloodshot eyes.

“My family I mean,” she continued, “you saved my family. You and your dad. We lived in Wichita at the time. We had a poltergeist. It was…it was cutting me. It carved words into me.” She put a hand on her stomach. “Words like ‘vengeance’ and ‘death’.” 

She shook her head. “I was so terrified. But you and John, you just swept in and got rid of the thing in a weekend. It was amazing.”

The long-forgotten case bubbled up in Dean’s mind. It felt separate from him, apart, as though centuries had passed in between, instead of a dozen years. But he remembered a young girl, a sweet kid with braces on her teeth and overwhelming fear in her eyes. He nodded. Yes, he remembered that smile now.

She wore it still as she shook her head and looked down. “It was a long time ago, a lifetime seems like, so I’m sure you don’t remember. But I still remember how Dean Winchester came and saved me.” She looked up at him again and her tears had returned. “So, I’m asking you to please, please save me again.”

Dean felt the same something as before, something that shifted in his gut, that felt tight and constricting. But he pushed it away and shook his head.

“You’re wrong, Y/N.” He said, as her name came back to him. He could see the surprise on her face. “I do remember you. I remember the poltergeist. I remember your family, your house. And I remember saving you.” 

He paused and let the memories retreat from his mind’s eye before he clenched his jaw. “But you’re right, it was a lifetime ago,” he shook his head, “and I’m not that guy anymore.”

He raised his gun and took a step forward aiming for a quick, straight bullet to the head, faster than blinking.

But as though time slowed down, he saw a blur of motion coming in from the side and several things happened at the exact same time. Y/N screamed and dove as far to the right as her chains would allow, Cas jumped forward to stop him, and Dean yanked his gun up at the very last millisecond before his finger flexed on the trigger, just as he saw the blur come into focus.

It was a sobbing, shaking little girl, in a tattered blue dress. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a braid and tied with a faded piece of lace. Y/N had leapt towards the child to shield her as the little one had flung herself in front of her mother. Y/N was now cradling her daughter in her arms.

Cas kept his hand like a vice grip on Dean’s shoulder where he’d grabbed him in an attempt to stop him. Though he wouldn’t have reached him in time. A feeling surged through Dean that he hadn’t felt in a long time as he breathed in and out harshly, as though he’d run a mile.

Two of his soldiers, Risa and Patrick, ran in seconds later, ashen faced and staring at the little girl. Dean yelled at them. “Why the fuck did you let her in here?”

Risa shook her head. “She got away from us.”

“Got away from you?” He continued to shout. “She’s a little girl!” 

When they didn't respond he gritted his teeth and spoke through them. “Why don’t you go see if you can handle all forty pounds of her this time.” He said, motioning with his gun for them to go get her.

As they moved to follow his orders he acknowledged what it was that had his heart beating triple time and his lungs unable to suck in enough air. 

It was fear. The forgotten, acidic taste of it was on his tongue. It had been a very long time since he’d been afraid of anything. But knowing he’d been less than a second away from firing a bullet into the body of an innocent, uninfected kid - that truth had him rattled. As did Emma’s heart-rending cries as she clung to her mother.

Risa and Patrick had reached Y/N, but looked hesitant to rip the child away from her mother. Y/N was pulling on Emma’s arms and she finally managed to unlock their death grip from around her neck. 

“Baby, shh.” She said softly as she brushed the little girl’s wispy hairs out of her face and cupped her ruby red cheeks. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re gonna be safe - “ 

Emma cut her off with a wail. “Noooo! Noooo! Mommy, I don’t wanna go.”

Y/N was shaking her head. “Hey, hey. No, sweetheart listen, listen to me. We made it here and now you’re safe.” She began nodding as Emma shook her head. “Yes, baby. Look at me, look at me, just breathe.” She said, and Emma began sucking in shuddering, choking breaths.

Y/N smiled and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “You are so brave. Okay? I just need you to keep being so brave. Can you do that? Hmm?” Y/N questioned, nodding even though Emma was shaking her head in denial.

Dean caught Patrick’s eye and gave a sharp nod towards the horrifying scene. He needed them to get the kid out of there. Patrick nodded back, but still didn’t move to take her. Dean seethed.

“I love you so much.” Y/N said, her voice breaking now, but she cleared her throat quickly and continued. “I love you bigger than big.” She was staring into her daughter’s eyes. “Bigger than big.” She repeated.

“And taller than tall?” Emma asked in a strangled voice, obviously repeating an often used sentiment. 

Y/N was nodding. “And taller than tall.” She confirmed. She gave her daughter a final smile of encouragement, her palms still clasped on her flushed, wet cheeks. “You - are my little angel.” She told her before pulling her against her chest one more time, trying to squeeze a lifetime of love into the small body she held.

Dean tried to keep his features in check as Y/N looked up at him. He wouldn’t bend. She needed to get her kid out of there. Y/N sniffed and pulled back from Emma. “Okay, baby. You need to go with…”

She looked up at Risa, obviously looking for a name. “Risa.” The soldier replied kindly.

Y/N gave her a grateful smile and directed her words up at her. “Go with Risa, she’ll look out for you.” It was obviously a question for the other woman, a plea. Risa gave a curt nod of agreement.

Emma was still sobbing as Y/N lifted her out of her lap and let Risa take her away. The little girl screamed and reached back for her mother and Dean saw the way Y/N flinched as she raised her manacled wrist and pressed her fingers to her lips before sending a parting kiss to her daughter.

As the child disappeared her screams still echoed, and Y/N slumped, covering her face, her shoulders shaking.

Dean swallowed down the feelings that tried to rise in him as he watched her weep. Every person who died left someone behind to grieve them. If they were lucky. And this situation was no different. Their camp had more than a dozen orphaned kids. Emma would be no different.

But as Y/N took a shuddering breath and looked up at him, he knew he was lying. Her words to Emma had resonated in his memory, pulling forth the image of his mother’s warm hands on his cheeks after he sought to comfort her, told her he loved her and would never leave her. 

“You - are my little angel.” She’d said, her voice full of love.

And another moment, in the dark, cuddled against his mother’s chest as she held him after a nightmare, just days before the fire. Her voice had been so gentle, so soft. 

“I know you’re scared, Dean, and that’s okay. Cause I know you’re so brave too. Can you show me how brave you are?”

Y/N’s last words to her daughter echoed some of the last words he remembered from his mother and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t affecting him. But as Y/N stared up at him, he tried desperately to shake it off. It changed nothing.

Y/N’s voice cracked as she tried to speak; she cleared it before trying again. “Thank you, Dean. For keeping her here, for giving her somewhere safe to be.”

Dean shook his head. “Nowhere is somewhere safe to be.”

He could see Y/N’s fear spring back up, and he shrugged. “But she can stay here, and have the protection of the camp. For whatever that’s worth.”

Y/N nodded and closed her eyes. “Thank you.” She repeated in a whisper, and then, without opening her eyes, “I’m ready.”

Cas gripped his shoulder again. “Dean, don’t do this.” He said, his low voice barely a whisper.

Dean shrugged off his hand and stepped closer to Y/N, close enough that he couldn’t possibly miss, so that it would be instant and painless.

He felt Cas’ disappointment and anger looming over him as he extended his arm. The muzzle of the gun was less than two feet from its target. Dean cocked it again and felt his stomach swoop at Y/N’s soft, quick inhale.

His finger caressed the trigger, a breath away from pulling it when from nowhere his little brother’s voice floated into his mind, a snippet of conversation he hadn’t thought of in almost a decade - from the first time they’d ever seen the virus.

“You know I’m gonna ask you why.” Sam had said, referring to the man Dean had left alive.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So, why? Why didn’t you do it?”

He hadn’t answered his brother then; he’d been too embarrassed to say that there had been something in his soul that wouldn’t let him shoot someone who wasn't yet a monster, even if it seemed inevitable that they would be.

But now, that same creeping feeling, that same cloying sense of wrong was pulling at his soul again. It shocked him and angered him that his soul was still capable of this dithering - this pansy-assed wavering - when his head knew without a doubt what had to be done.

With the same sick, frustrated feeling, however, Dean felt his arm drop. “Dammit.” He growled, just as he had then.

He backed away and saw Y/N’s eyes pop open, saw relief flood them just before he turned and stormed away. He barreled out of the cabin and heard Cas shout after him. But he kept marching forward, trying to get himself far away from the memories that had come there to haunt him. 

But with every step away from camp, with every inch he walked into the surrounding forest, his mother and brother’s faces became clearer in his mind until he finally just stopped abruptly. Giving a shout of pure fury, Dean pointed his gun at the dead leaves on the ground and unloaded his clip into the moist earth.

He was panting, teeth clenched, as he sensed someone approaching. He whirled around, instinctively pointing his empty gun towards the noise. But he immediately put it down when he saw it was Cas. 

Instead he walked up to him and shoved the angel backwards; though even with his powers gone, he didn’t move very far.

“Don’t fucking follow me.” Dean growled at him.

But Cas just stared at him and then a smile spread across his face. Dean scowled thunderously. “What the fuck could you possibly be smiling about?”

Cas shook his head and shrugged. “I just… thought he was gone, but he’s still there. Haven’t seen him in a long time.’

Dean’s expression was confused and pissed. “Thought who was gone?”

“My friend - Dean Winchester. I thought he was well and truly gone.” He repeated. “But it’s so good to see him again.” The angel’s brilliant blue eyes were beaming so bright, they almost seemed to be alight with grace once more.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@akshi8278

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

[barbwritesstuff]

A copy/paste of a post I made on the CS forum in regards to Thicker Than:

-------------

I’m just popping back to post a quick update about my plan/process going forward.

My current plan is to continue drafting this story as it is. Once I have first draft, then I’ll go back and fix some of the issues that have been brought up here.

Top of the list:

*Fix confusing navigation in chapters 3-4.

*Add more opportunities to interact with allies in non romantic contexts. (Perhaps in groups so people don’t worry about losing romance routes but can still spend time and get to know various characters).

*Add more choice and variation to the trial scene (plus a potential aquital for vampires loyal to the Night Court).

I hope that’s okay. I think it’ll be easier to edit once I have the whole thing more or less together. That way I’m not going back and forth quite as much and it’ll be easier to know exactly where any jumps/skips need to go.

The latter half of Chapter Ten is very romance focused. Chapter Eleven is going to be very big and busy (depending on the playthrough) and I may end up splitting it into two, but I’m not sure yet. The game is already starting to fork towards the various endings (of which there will be five with variations in each). Some will be more involved than others, but I want to try and make them all rewarding in their own way.

I know it feels like choices that were made in part two are a little redundant, but I’m hoping later chapters might change some minds.

The tribute choice is still one of the biggest in the game (and whether or not it was actually paid) and the outcomes and consequences of that will start to come out more soon.

Not all consequences will be good. Again, I hope that’s okay.

I’m also hoping it’s not too frustrating waiting a little longer for the above mentioned fixes.

Thank you everyone for your honest feedback. This game is much more complicated than my last and it’s been a steep learning curve all the way (I’m never doing timeskips ever again 😅). But, with your help, I’m hoping the final product will be a really fun. 💙

[chimivx]

no matter what i do ↠ txt

now playing: 0X1=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You) • TXT

Two years after an end-all argument with Taehyun, you’re forced to spend Christmas weekend together at your mother’s, and his father’s. Once upon a time he meant the world to you. Now that you’re both married with kids, things are getting messy, and a little blurry. The longer you stick around in the home you both grew up in, the more secrets come out… It’s always been messy, it was always blurry. All you want, all you truly yearn for, is to get back on good terms with Taehyun.

word count↠ 33,944

warnings↠ MDNI. 18+. no graphic depictions of sex but it is heavily implied, drug use, teenage drug use, alcohol abuse, angst amongst taehyun and reader, insinuation that someone will s/a reader (briefly, not described), teenage pregnancy (age nineteen), step-cest before they are officially step siblings (growing up together in same house, not step-sibs until they are full adults), infidelity, not so fabulous parents, neglectful mother, biting at some point if you squint, crying, lots of crying, many many sex insinuations (not graphic)… if i missed anything PLEASE tell me.

a/n↠ i put my BACK into this one, i feel pretty proud of this. this may be extremely taboo to some people. this topic is frowned upon by most. if you don’t like it, simply scroll by, thank you. the idea sparked in my head, and i couldn’t let it go. to those of you intrigued, to those of you who end up reading- thank you. 🫶

posted↠ 12/20/23 ~ 12 a.m. est

White crystal snowflakes whirled through the brisk air, the wind nipping at your cheeks as you struggled with the car seat buckle for the third time this week. The toddler you were strapping in had her hand stretched out of the van door, trying to catch a snowflake filled with wonder as to why she couldn’t hold one in her warm mittens.

“No-flake, Mama,” she mumbled to you. “No-flake!”

“The snowflakes are so pretty, just like you, Mina,” you smiled at her, adjusting the straps over her shoulders, hoping to ease your struggle.

Behind you, the front door to your two story home flung open and slammed shut, the scuffle of snow boots plowing down the porch stairs followed. Equally shrill, loud mouthed shouts filled the quiet winter air.

“Boys, don’t jump in the-“

Glancing over your shoulder, it was too late. Your twin boys, Chan and Sunoo, were knee deep in the snowdrifts on top of the gardens that lined along the porch. Dark hair and matching brown eyes grinned maniacally at you.

“You both need to get in the car, we’re gonna be late!”

Mina shoved a mitten in her mouth, biting down on the fabric with her tiny teeth ripping it off of her hand. While you watched Sunoo and Chan trudge through the snow, each one trying to shove the other to the ground as they raced to the van, your two year old threw her mitten to the ground. And then the other one, with a shriek.

“I’m right here,” you soothed, turning back to your daughter with a sigh. “Meens, it’s cold baby,” you crouched to pick the little pink mittens up off the ground, “you have to wear these.”

“No wear,” she frowned, her eyebrows sinking over the eyes she shared with her father. She puffed out her pouty cheeks, becoming the carbon copy of him. Out of all of your kids, Mina looked the most like him.

“Yes, wear,” you said, reaching for one of her hands that both shot up into the air in an instant. Her bottom lip crinkled, and you withheld the groan you ever so wished to release from the depths of your being.

Christmas was supposed to get easier as the kids got older, not harder. All morning you had been arguing over clothes and trying to contain your chaotic twin five year olds to their bedroom just so you could brush their hair. Mina kicked you in the chin on accident while you were putting on her boots amidst an hour-long meltdown because she had barely slept the night before, which usually meant she was getting sick- another glorious thing to deal with while you traveled for the weekend.

Sunoo wanted to put on his pants himself, getting the fabric stuck in the zipper, and Chan insisted on helping him fix it. By the time you were back in their bedroom after Mina nearly knocked you out, the pants were ripped and Sunoo had to change his entire outfit, which meant the boys weren’t matching anymore. Meltdown number two. From the brother of a boy with ripped pants who’s favorite thing was getting to match with his twin.

Mina was set free to roam around the house, clunking around in her boots looking for her father, and you squeezed Sunoo into his outfit from last Christmas Eve, mentally preparing yourself to hear sly comments from your mother all weekend wondering why he wasn’t in the new clothes she bought him, and ‘those pants are way too short, dear, do you need me to go shopping with you?’.

The one thing, the one amazing, thoughtful thing that took some of the weight off of your shoulders was your husband taking care of the youngest of your crew, Wonwoo. A tiny, calm, beautiful six month old surprise you all only found out about ten months ago. 

Mina had just turned two, the boys were about to graduate Pre-K, and you had run out of bedrooms. With four months to prepare for a new baby, your husband stepped up, with the help of his friend Kai, and converted half of the basement playroom into a bedroom for the twins, one they could grow into throughout the years. Mina moved into the boy's old room, painted purple by her father, and Wonwoo got his own room right next door to his sister.

You would put up with the boys, “Just because we’re twins means we don’t get our own rooms?!”, argument later. That was a problem for future you. Not the current you fighting with your two year old over mittens, dodging snowballs your five year olds were throwing at one another.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you muttered under your breath, knowing your curses couldn’t be heard over the boys shouts or Mina’s wailing. “Boys, in the car now!” One mitten wrestled onto Mina’s right hand. The twins didn’t hear you, or they ignored you. “Boys!” A snowball hit the ground by your feet. Two mittens on, and one seatbelt successfully buckled.

Ready to hoof it through the snow to put a twin on each hip, they were still small enough to do so, the front door shut followed by the jingling of keys as it was locked making both boys freeze in their boots.

Shooting you a look of reassurance before eyeing the boys, your husband, with a baby carrier in one hand and keys in the other, carefully started down the stairs. His smooth black hair that usually hung over his eyes was parted to the side, resting on top of his thin rimmed glasses that he pushed up his nose with his knuckle. A jean jacket not nearly warm enough for this weather hugged his stretch of a frame, hiding a white button up beneath it, the top two buttons undone with nothing under it.

It was a wonder why Wonwoo was such a surprise, your husband’s been a babe since the day you met. Fatherhood didn’t change him the slightest, if anything it made you want him more.

“Soobin,” you said through your teeth, placing your hands on top of your head. “I’m gonna lose my mind.” 

Speaking quietly as he came closer, you didn’t need your children hearing your moment of despair. They were all being a nuisance, but it was reasonable. The twins were excited, it was Christmas and they were about to spend the weekend with their family they rarely got to see, and Mina was getting sick. Not only that, Mina was two years old and still learning how to properly express the way she was feeling, still learning what emotions even were. Those words were bound to come out of Soobin at some point.

“You’re doing great,” Soobin said, handing you the carrier with your youngest snoozing away inside, bundled up in a bear onesie with ears on the hood, covered up with a fuzzy blanket to keep him warm and to make sure the seat buckles were on him securely. “Put him in his seat, I got tweedledee and tweedledum.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek as you giggled.

Since their father had stepped out of the house both Chan and Sunoo were attentive, one eye on Soobin and one eye on each other. They still made snowballs, but were hesitant to throw them. 

Circling around the trunk of the van, taking a peek inside to make sure everyone's bags were there, you watched as Soobin put his hands on his hips, and asked the boys nicely why they weren’t listening to you. The snowballs fell from their gloved fingers and they both shrugged.

“Your mother has been taking care of your sister all morning,” he began, the boys looking up to him with wide eyes. “You know Mina can’t do the things that you can do yet, she still needs a lot of help. I’m so proud of you both for getting dressed on your own and helping each other, but now it’s time to help Mom, okay?” 

Setting Wonwoo in his place, making sure everything was properly locked, twice, you tried to not let the twins' attentiveness to their father get you down. It seemed no matter what you did, no matter how you spoke to them, they chose to always, always, listen to Soobin.

Two tiny heads nodded, and two tiny voices spoke at once. “Okay, dad.”

“You’re excited it’s Christmas?” Soobin asked the boys, and they nodded again, faster this time. “Me too! You’re excited to see your cousins?” The boys smiled and nodded, starting to walk toward the car. “Me too, you know we haven’t seen your Uncle Taehyun in forever.”

Your step brother's name made you fumble, bumping the handle of Wonwoo’s carrier, making him stir. “No, no, no.” You whispered, freezing, saying a silent prayer that he wouldn’t wake.

Chan and Sunoo reached Soobin, both boys reaching up for him, tugging on his clothes in some way. “I can't pick you up right now, you decided to play in the snow and now you’re all wet.” Two pouty five year olds gazed up at him, big, round, sappy eyes. Mina may be his twin, but they all shared the same pouty face. You weren’t sure when the twins mastered it. “You made your decision. Now you have to climb over Mina to get in your seats because your brother is asleep.”

“She will kick us!” Chan nearly shouted, looking up to his father in shock. Sunoo’s glance exchanged between Soobin and his brother, anxious to see what he would say, because you all knew for a fact, that Mina wouldn’t hesitate to kick them.

The toddler had calmed her crying to watch her brothers, gnawing on one of the mittens you stuck back on her hands. Her tear stained cheeks perked up when she heard Soobin say her name. Either that, or she was proud that she already had a reputation at the ripe age of two.

“Mina won’t kick you,” you said, sliding the van door shut on Wonwoo’s side, walking around it to stand beside your husband. Gripping the handle of the passenger door, you raise a brow to Soobin and smirk. “We’re gonna be late, Soob. I’m already dreading seeing my family, I’d like to not pile on to the shit my mother has to say about me.”

“You said a bad word!” Sunoo gasped, pointing at you. Chan started to laugh. Soobin sighed.

“You said a bad word,” he said, completely serious. 

Your husband was a lot of things. For starters he was stunning, he knew how to dress, he was an incredible caring man, an amazing father, and a beast in the sheets. Underneath all the dreamy qualities you were still in shock you secured nine years ago, he was an insufferably proper prude. Not that you’d ever tell him that to his face, though you’ve hinted at it just to tease him. He was a gentleman, and he was raising the boys to be the same. He’d be damned if his boys ended up like half of the jerks he grew up with or encountered in his lifetime. Your husband didn’t curse, he spoke with intention, and always thought through everything carefully, sometimes too much.

Nine years together, five and a half years married, he hasn’t seemed to completely rub off on you yet. The two of you were utter opposites, anyone with eyes could see that. Anyone who knew you nine years ago could tell you that.

You and Soobin? You… With Soobin.

You, the loud mouthed, hot headed, class skipper who had detention every other week, with straight edged, outstanding GPA, respectable Soobin. Opposites attract, you assumed. Though you’d be lying if you said the beginning of your relationship wasn’t an excuse to escape the life you used to live. You were in love, you created a beautiful family, and you lived a happy life… An hour and a half away from the family you used to know.

Turning your attention down to the twins, you smiled. “I’m sorry I said a bad word. I’m a little frustrated.”

“But, that’s not an excuse,” Soobin raised his brows, looking from you to the boys. Taking a deep breath, choking back a sigh, you nodded.

“No. It’s not,” you grit your teeth. “I shouldn’t have said that word. I’m sorry.”

Soobin smiled at you. “Into the car boys, if Mina kicks you I don’t think I blame her.” He flashed you a wink as you got into your seat. Now that was more your parenting style, though you understood and appreciated Soobins. You were raised differently, you were still unlearning a lot of things, and it got a little easier with each child that came out of you.

Once the boys were in their seats and buckled after Mina did try to kick them as they climbed over her, your family was on the road, forty five minutes later than you originally planned. Between Sunoo’s outfit mishap, and now being late, you mentally prepared yourself to be berated by your mother. With Soobin by your side it’d be a little bit easier to take. Your stepfather always had your back too, telling your mother to back off if she ever started to lay it on too thick. The one who always took the brunt of it though, the one who seemed to make it disappear, was Taehyun.

Since the start, since your two families blended together, he’d stick up for you no matter the consequence. When it came to school, the two of you in the same grade, inseparable since middle school, if the two of you were caught in trouble he’d take full blame. Of course that only worked until high school when you started to get into trouble on your own, but even then Taehyun would step in front of you at home, getting the worst of the punishment.

It’d been two years since you’d last seen Taehyun. Two summers ago at his eldest daughter's tenth birthday party in his backyard, an hour and a half away in the opposite direction of you. You were the halfway point between him and your parents.

You were both thirty, you were both married, you had three year old twins and a newborn Mina, and he had his freshly ten year old daughter and seven year old son. 

His wife, Sana, waltzed around the backyard dressed to the nines with a glass of wine in one hand and her cell phone in the other, showing off her assets to anyone who cared to listen. The woman was a year younger than you both. Her hair, black as night, was pin straight down her slender back exposed by the deep purple low cut dress she had chosen to wear. Around her neck was a diamond necklace she would brag about, how grateful she was that her husband worked so hard to buy it for her, along with the gaudy wedding ring sitting on her left finger.

Their daughter, Rosie, a mini Sana, had clearly been dressed by her mother that morning. You can remember how many times Soobin mumbled, “If Mina ever…” angrily to you, offended that his sister-in-law would allow her daughter to dress that way at ten years of age. The second he brought your step brother into the mix, you shut your husband right down.

Taehyun wasn’t seen with Sana the entire party. He was with his boy, Minho, enjoying what seemed like a very expensive day you were certain he dropped every penny for. 

Taking care of Mina while Soobin watched over the twins running around the colorful water sprinklers, you were able to catch Taehyun’s ear only momentarily. A conversation that shoved a knife through your heart, even now if you thought about it for too long.

He was tired, Taehyun. Even though you were the one with a sleeping newborn slung over your shoulder in a dark, quiet hallway of his home. You could see it in his eyes that were once full of life beneath his messy dark hair. He wasn’t the man you knew anymore, and the weighted words you threw at each other when you were twenty came back to haunt you. Both of you.

Twenty was when everything changed. Taehyun got Sana pregnant. To which you begged him to not go through with, knowing what type of girl Sana was, even at nineteen years old. It was an accident, he once called it. Until the accident’s tenth birthday, where he nearly spat at your feet and admitted he did it on purpose.

He knocked Sana up on purpose to get away from you, to erase the past you shared, to which you sneered that that’s the very reason you wound up with Soobin. To get away from him, to erase the past you shared. The hurt that drowned his tired eyes was something you’d never be able to unsee.

Your sharp, hushed, venom laced voices were cut off by your husbands calling up to you from the bottom of Taehyun's carpeted stairs. With two hands on the banisters, Soobin had daggers for eyes, directing them only at Taehyun who you didn’t realize almost had you caged to the wall, the two of you entirely too close considering you had a baby across your chest. Soobin’s baby.

The end played out in your mind, regretting everything that had happened the moment you had collected your boys and gotten into the car. After Taehyun handed over two letters addressed to your twins, you hadn’t spoken since that moment.

Soobin’s hand slid over the soft, flowing fabric of your pants, bringing you back to present time. The twins were babbling away to one another in the third row, Mina was humming to herself, and Wonwoo was still sound asleep. Looking over at your husband, you find him glancing at you ever so often with a soft smile on his lips.

“You alright?” he asked. Grabbing his hand, you laced your fingers together and took a breath.

“Yeah,” you said, half convincing. “Just… tired. Between nursing Wonwoo and Mina fighting sleep last night, I just…”

“Right,” Soobin said, focused on the snowy road ahead. You’ve been on the road for about twenty minutes already. “Why don’t you rest until we get there?” Dragging a thumb over the back of his hand, you shrugged. Much like the needs of your children last night, your racing thoughts and pounding heart weren’t exactly going to soothe you to sleep.

Soobin lowered his brows, along with his voice. “What else is bothering you?” Though he could probably take a wild guess. Hesitating, you made your husband chuckle. “It’s going to be fine. When I talked to your mom she said he was excited to see everyone.”

“He was lying,” you whispered.

“You don’t know that,” Soobin said.

“Yes, I do.”

Pulling up to a red light, Soobin let go of your hand and touched the bottom of your chin, turning you so you would look at him. “It’s been two years. You’re thirty-two, and so is he. He’s your brother, surely you guys can use this weekend to make up and end this sibling tiff.”

The light turned green and he grabbed your hand again, his attention on the street and keeping his family safe on the hazardous roads.

Toying with his fingers, you mumbled, “He’s not my brother,” and ignored Soobin’s eyeroll and the way he pulled his hand away from you to grip the steering wheel.

“I’d also love to go this weekend without any of that,” he said, voice low.

With a heavy exhale, you twisted yourself nearly sideways to face him. “Don’t do that.”

He shot you a glare. “Don’t disappear on me.”

“Soobin.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “There’s four kids back there now, baby- Ugh, babe- Love, Jesus Christ.” Your bottom lip escaped between your teeth. Soobin shook his head. “Maybe since you’re fighting he won’t call you that. One less thing to worry about.”

Your relationship with Taehyun was a rocky path that Soobin somehow understood since day one. At the start of your relationship and up until Rosie’s tenth birthday, Soobin had never been too fond of him, knowing that Taehyun was ‘one of the jerk’s’ he didn’t want his sons becoming. At this point in your life, you’re saddened you’d have to agree.

The house you grew up in was nothing short of spectacular. Two stories high with staircases on each end of the house, it was a classically built home that your mother and step father took excellent care of. Half of the outside of the home was grey stone, while the other half, sunken back a bit, was a wash of sky blue. The driveway was grand and stretched up the blue side of the house to two chestnut brown garage doors, and from the paved driveway a sidewalk lined with gardens wound up the lawn to the front door that matched the garage.

Everything was covered in snow, making the house draped in twinkling white Christmas lights appear like it was on the cover of a magazine. From the bay window on the stone side of the house you could see the Christmas tree all lit up, wrapped in silver garland with an ornament on each branch. Every Christmas was the same. Dazzling lights outside, a show stopping display of a tree, and an anxiety attack that one of your kids would break a decoration around each corner of the house. It was like your mother forgot what it was like to have toddlers, they were worse than cats, they touched anything and everything.

Pulling into the shoveled driveway, the snow was still coming down and had worsened on the drive, both you and Soobin peeked behind you at the quiet car as soon as it was in park. 

Mina, out. Wonwoo, out. Chan, out. Sunoo, sitting with his hands in his lap, smiling at his parents.

“Hi honey,” you cooed. “Thought you were asleep like everyone else.” Soobin laughed.

“What’s up, bud,” he said. “You’ve been pretty quiet. You didn’t want to talk to mom and dad?”

Sunoo shrugged, his smile still puffing out his cheeks. “I was just watching.” The five year old gestured out the window with one hand before slapping it on top of his other one, gazing out at the snow.

You and Soobin shared a look of adoration. “Just watching,” you both said at the same time with a soft laugh.

“Do you wanna wake up Chan, or do you want Daddy to do it?”

Sunoo glanced at his snoozing brother and his crooked neck, then shrugged again. “Will he be cranky if I wake him up?” 

Soobin bit back another laugh. “He’s always cranky,” he mumbled for only you to hear, then said to his son, “Wake him up and tell him he has to help me bring in our things. So do you.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Sunoo said, reaching over as far as he could in his carseat to tap his brother's arm that dangled off the side.

Looking at Soobin, you nodded. “I got the babies. Why don’t you come say hi first, then we can all come back out here for everything else once my mom has hold of Meens?”

“She’s going to pass her off to Jin, you really think she’s going to let Wonwoo stay asleep?” Soobin smirked. He glanced past you out the window and took a breath. “Taehyun’s here, he can hold the baby. He hasn’t met him yet.” 

Peeking out the window, the old, black Jeep Wrangler littered with different stickers made your stomach sink to your knees. He’s driven that thing since he got his license. When you met Soobin’s gaze you could tell he was serious.

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking note of Chan in the back of the van who was rubbing his eyes vigorously. “He can hold him.”

Soobin reached across your seat, touching beneath your chin like he once did about an hour ago. “Listen,” he said softly, dragging a thumb over your cheek. “We’re going to have a good weekend. I promise. It’s Wonwoo’s first Christmas,” he dropped his voice to a whisper for a second, “The boys are getting their first bikes,” you both smiled, “And you and Taehyun… You’re going to make things right. It’s time to make things right. To… move on.”

“Don’t make it sound weird,” you muttered. Soobin perked a brow. “No, come on,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. Your husband laughed, then leaned forward to give you a kiss.

Both Sunoo and Chan shrieked, “EWE!”

“I love you, you weirdo,” Soobin smiled. Mina stirred behind you, catching his attention for a second. Grabbing onto his hand you pressed a kiss to his fingers and sighed.

“I love you too, Soob, so much.”

His smile grew. “I know.”

Within minutes your entire crew was up the winding sidewalk, taking your sweet, sweet time because the kids found the lights so interesting. Mina, curled up into your shoulder, could've stared at the twinkling snowflakes hanging from the trees for hours. The twins led you up the couple of steps to the front door, telling both you and Soobin to be careful because it was slippery. Car seat in hand, Soobin saluted them as a thank you, and then insisted that they were the ones to knock on the door. Their faces lit up, their tiny fists going to town on the chestnut wood, the wreath hanging on it shaking like crazy.

A sing-songy voice could be heard on the other side along with another. Your blood pressure was through the roof. Catching a glimpse of Soobin watching the boys with pride helped ease the nerves, at least you’d be here with him, with all of them, your mini me’s you created with his help. Soobin was right, this was going to be a great weekend, you were here together, and that was enough.

The doorknob to the door rattled, and it swung open in a flash, your heart rate skyrocketing for a millisecond until your mother cheered, throwing her arms around your boys.

“Finally!” Fabulous as always, she wore a champagne colored chiffon dress cut off at her knees with flowing sleeves and matching Loubuittons. Diamonds hung around her neck and dripped from her ears and her wrists. Her hair was curled, and her makeup was pristine. Always the picture of perfection.

“Hi Mom,” you smiled, pressing your lips together, firm. With a twin on each leg, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and shot you an award winning grin.

“Hello my dear,” she crooned. “Hi Soobin, Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas, Joy,” Soobin smiled.

“Come in! Come in! God, it’s freezing out here,” Joy shuffled herself inside with the boys attached to her, making them giggle like crazy. Exchanging a look with Soobin, you both rolled your eyes.

“Rosie and Minho are in here somewhere,” Joy began, detaching the twins from her. Sunoo and Chan lifted their chins and looked around the house, taking it in as if they had never seen it before. “You’ll find them eventually, they’re not good at hiding.” 

Your mother laughed toward you as if you’d get her joke. You settled for a sympathy laugh regardless, one she didn’t notice. Mouth agape, she tiptoed to your side, sliding a hand over Mina’s back.

“Think we’re coming down with something,” you said, giving your girl a gentle bounce. “She’s gonna be clingy all weekend.”

Joy pouted her silicone filled lips and held open her arms. “Be clingy right here, darling. Come ‘ere, sweetie.”

Kissing the top of Mina’s head you spoke quietly to her. “Go see your grandma, Meens.” You attempted to take her off your hip, but your girl held on tight.

“Oh, Mina,” Joy sang. “Joy has cookies in the kitchen, do you want some cookies?” Mina picked her head up, her heavy eyes blinking a couple of times before she held up a hand.

“Cookie,” she babbled.

“Cookie?” Chan whined. “Cookies? Joy, you have cookies?”

“Can we have cookies too?” Sunoo asked, looking up at you and Soobin. “I want some cookies too, please.”

Joy waited for the parents to answer, giving you eyes as persuasive as your kids.

“Well,” Soobin said, looking at you. “Can’t say no, you already brought it up. You can each have one cookie.”

Joy held her hands up and Mina nearly jumped into them. Wiggling your daughter out of her winter coat and mittens, Soobin took care of the boys and helped you hang everything up in the closet by the door after Joy hurried off to the kitchen with the kids. Sliding a hand around your back, he kissed your cheek and chuckled to himself.

“What?” Smiling up at him, you wrapped your arms around his back. He nuzzled his nose against yours and took a breath.

“Mm, nothing,” he shrugged. “Just thinking about how those kids are going to be glued to your mom all weekend.” His hands slipped lower over your pants, smoothing over the flowing fabric. “They’re going to forget about us, and we can get lost in this big house, and-” A whine slipped out of the carseat a few feet away from you. Soobin waited with baited breath for the baby to make another noise. You couldn’t help but laugh, burying your face into the collar of his jacket.

“Unfortunately that one can smell if I’ve ventured too far away from him,” you said. Soobin, still smiling, shook his head and kissed you much deeper than he had all day.

“Guess she was going to let him sleep,” Soobin said, untangling himself from you. He started for the carseat, greeting his youngest son with the sweetest voice.

“Yeah, I guess,” you furrowed your brows and glanced down the hall toward the kitchen where commotion was evident. “Here.” Turning to your husband who had Wonwoo out of the seat, tucked in the air in a newborn scrunch, you held out your arms to scoop up your little one. “He’s gonna be hungry soon.”

Adjusting the hood on his head while he was cradled in your arms, Soobin cocked his head to the side. “Give him to Joy, he can have a cookie.”

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. Tapping your baby’s bottom, you turn around to peek down the hall again. “Shall we? Surely someone in there with arms will take him. I’ll help you bring in our stuff.”

“The boys will help me,” Soobin said, following you as you started down the long hall lined with galleries of photos of your family, both immediate and distant. There were plenty of you and Taehyun.

“The boys are five, and we have a lot of stuff,” you said. “They’re going to carry two bags and then they’ll hear Joy say something that sparks their interest and like you said, they’ll forget we’re here.”

The hardwood floor clicked beneath your shoes, echoing up into the high ceilings lined with wooden beams. The beige walls in this place seemed to stretch for miles, and just as you expected, there was some sort of Christmas pizzazz on every square inch. Turning into the kitchen that was toasty warm, you find the entire room was brand new. The last time you were here was shortly before Wonwoo was born, so that means in the past six months this kitchen had had another facelift.

The tile was marble, the counters were marble, and the cabinets were a dark forest green. On the end of the house, the ceiling on the kitchen was slanted and adorned with a massive skylight lined with spotlights shining down into the room.

“Mom, what the hell,” you said a little too loud.

“Bad word!” Sunoo pointed at you. 

Joy, at the island counter with Mina sitting on the marble with a cookie in her hand and both boys standing beside her, looked toward you curiously. “What's the matter, honey?”

“This,” you gestured around the kitchen you had to admit was gorgeous. “It’s like the fifth time you’ve redone it.”

Joy frowned. “You don’t sound happy, what is it ugly? What did I miss?” She parroted her head around like she’d find an imperfection somewhere. Mina copied her, glancing around before she spotted you and Soobin and smiled.

“Mama,” she said, waving her cookie toward you.

“Hi Mina,” you nodded, stepping closer to her. “No, Mom, it’s… stunning. Just wish you’d commit to an aesthetic. This shit’s expensive.”

“Bad wooord!” Sunoo and Chan shouted.

“Babe,” Soobin’s tone was flat.

“This shit is very expensive, darling, but my God, it’s gorgeous,” Joy waved a hand around, flicking her diamond bracelet up and down her wrist.

“Joy! Bad word!” Chan pouted, looking up at his grandmother in defeat. Soobin sighed heavily, and you wanted to apologize, but he pulled the boys out of the kitchen before you had the chance to do so.

“We’re going to bring our things inside,” your husband said to you, disappearing with the boys down the hall.

Once he was gone Joy wiggled her brows. “Daddy Soobin still strict as ever, huh?”

“He’s not strict, Mom,” you shook your head. “He’s far from it.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, taking a bite out of a cookie. Mina tried to grab it from her, but she pulled it away. “Sweetie, you’ve got your own, and your military boot camp daddy said only one.”

“One,” Mina smiled, holding up a finger. Joy’s face lit up, making your daughter laugh.

“Good job, Mina,” she cooed. “How’s that baby of yours?” She asked you while she played with Mina.

Looking down at Wonwoo who was gazing up at the skylight, you smiled at him. “He’s perfect.”

“You feeling better about adjusting to four?” Joy snuck a glimpse of you, her eyes written with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I am,” you nodded. “Wonwoo’s an angel, so he made it too easy. Makes me feel like we could do five.” Joy thankfully laughed along with your joke.

“Yeah, well, if my husband looked like that I don’t think we’d stop.”

“Mom!” Your eyes went wild as she laughed.

“Come on, I’ve said it since you started dating him, Soobin’s a good one.”

Looking down at your baby again, you smiled. “He is a good one.” The kitchen went quiet for a moment, the only sound coming from Mina as she tried to put a cookie into Joy's mouth, and cheering to herself as she did. Praising her, Joy took a bite of the sugary snack and put it down, meeting your unreadable gaze. 

“What’s the matter? You’re pregnant again, aren’t you.”

“Mom!”

“You have that look on your face,” she circled her finger toward you. Mina grabbed onto it and tried to put it in her mouth. “No, honey, you can’t eat my jewelry… What’s going on?”

With a breath, you shrugged and forced the words out of your mouth, attempting to sound as casual as possible. “Taehyun and Sana here?”

Joy lifted a brow. “Taehyun’s here. No Sana.”

“No?” you questioned in surprise. Joy eyed you curiously.

“Sweetie, they’ve been divorced for almost a year,” she said. Placing her palms flat on the marble counter around your daughter to keep her in a safe space, Joy narrowed her eyes. “You’re telling me you didn’t know that?”

Mouth wide open, you scoffed. “Had no idea. How did this not come up this summer?” 

Joy shrugged. “I dunno, I figured the two of you had talked, and it’s his business, he didn’t need me spreading it around.”

She had a point.

“When was the last time you spoke to your brother?”

The word made your skin crawl.

“He’s not…” you nearly sneered, but stopped yourself before you opened a can of worms. “We haven’t talked… in a long time.”

Joy dodged a Mina kick, but still swam in her laughter, squeezing her cheeks with glee. “Tell me when that was.”

Swallowing hard, you took a deep breath. “Rosie’s tenth birthday party.”

“What!” Joy shouted, startling Mina. “I’m sorry, honey, c’mere.” She popped your daughter on her hip and scrambled out of the kitchen. “Follow me.”

Doing what you were told, you shifted Wonwoo over your shoulder and followed your mother to the other side of her home down the stretch of another hall. On the way you passed by a full bathroom, an office space and a living room with a TV screen as large as one in a movie theater. You ended up at the bottom of a staircase with your heart at the bottom of your stomach.

“Taehyun!” Joy shouted up the wooden dual level stairs.

“Mom, stop, we’ll talk,” you whispered, but your cries for help went unnoticed.

“Kang Taehyun!”

“Tae-yun,” Mina said, observing her grandmother. “Tae-yun!”

“Great,” you mumbled. What a fantastic word for her to learn and bring home with her.

“I’m coming!” His voice sent chills down your spine. “Hang on!” Even muffled by walls it churned your stomach into knots.

“You’re gonna talk now,” Joy shot you a glare over her shoulder. “It is Christmas goddamnit, I won’t have my kids fighting on Christmas.”

All you could give her was a sigh. From the front of the house you heard the door open and close. Poor boys were only on trip number one.

“Mom, I have to help Soobin with the car-”

Her hand cut you off. “Hush, he’s coming.”

Footsteps sounded upstairs, hurried footsteps, ones you would recognize blindfolded. You spent years listening to and memorizing the footsteps of the people you shared this house with.

“Taehyun!” Joy shouted for the last time.

He appeared at the top of the stairs with a grin, and the wind was knocked out of you. Meeting your eyes first he must’ve read your energy, because he blinked a couple of times and retreated down a single step hesitantly. You wanted to greet him somehow, this was no way for you to see somebody for the first time in two years, standing at the bottom of a staircase speechless.

He looked different. His hair was a little lighter, and you wondered if it was done on purpose or if age was already getting to him. Dressed the same as he usually would be, dark ripped jeans and a band tee that finally fit him properly instead of hanging off of his skinny frame. He hated the gym, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d been working out… But, then how would he be filling out the sleeves of the tee the way he was if he wasn’t lifting… something.

There was color in his cheeks and life in his big brown eyes. He looked happy. And it tore your heart apart.

“Hi, Baby,” he shot you a big, toothy grin. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Long time no see.” Taehyun's gaze dropped to the baby in your arms. You swore his smile faltered before he met your eyes once more.

“Care to explain to me why your sister told me the two of you haven’t spoken in two years?” Joy cut the ever so joyous reunion off, and for once you were grateful for her obliviousness. Taehyun tilted his head to the side to think, but you know he knew damn well why the two of you haven’t spoken. It just wasn’t something you could share in front of Joy.

“Uhm, it’s just… Life, I guess,” Taehyun shrugged twice, looking at you for help. Either that or he was mentally crucifying you for opening your mouth.

Joy popped a hip and clicked her tongue. “You’re a shit liar, just like your father,” she said. “Whatever is going on, you two work it out before dinner please.” Stepping away from the stairs, Mina in her arms, she held up a hand and shouted, “No fighting on Christmas!”

You watched her walk away, and the moment she was out of earshot you pointed your attention up to the top of the stairs. Taehyun’s eyes were wide, and his smile was gone. Both of his hands held onto the wooden railing, like he was ready to prop himself up on it and slide down like he’s done before many times. He tried to teach you how to do it a long, long time ago, but you ended up with stitches in your elbow instead.

“You really said something to her?” Taehyun broke the minute of silence that was beginning to suffocate you both. “I was fully prepared for you to walk in here and we just pretend like everything is okay for a couple days for her sake.”

“I can’t do that,” you whispered.

His jaw tightened. “I need you to do that.” He started down the stairs, his chunky sneakers clunking with every rushed step he took. Brushing past you, his scent was familiar. He still wore the same cologne.

“And what if I can’t?” Your voice made him freeze. He turned around halfway.

“Then, I’m gonna take my kids and we’re gonna leave,” he said, then continued down the hall.

“We’re really not gonna talk about this?” you asked. “We’re not even gonna try to fix it?”

He whirled around, swinging his hands at his sides before he crossed them over his chest. His biceps bulged out of his sleeves. “We’re not,” he gritted his teeth. He took two steps closer to you. “We can’t. There is nothing to fix.”

“It’s Christmas.” Your voice was barely a whisper.

Taehyun glanced down to where Wonwoo laid. “Yeah. It’s Christmas. You keep having babies, and I’m divorced. You’re happily married, playing house with your amazing husband, and keep pulling me back under whenever you come around and wanna talk.” You gulped, he watched you do so. “We’re done. We were a long time ago. Now, we act like everything is fucking perfect, or I’m gonna get called into work tonight and break Joys heart.”

Staring each other down, he didn’t walk away until you nodded. Wonwoo stirred on your shoulder, a small sound slipping out of the boy's mouth. Rubbing his back you watched Taehyun disappear around a corner wrapped in silver garland. Resting your cheek on the hood of Wonwoo’s onesie, you soothed him with a gentle hush, bouncing him ever so gently, turning away from the hall.

An empty cry came out of the infant you cradled, one that made you laugh. “I know, lovie,” you breathed. “I feel the same way.” 

Your eyes landed on a set of photos on the wall in a sleek black frame. Both photos, top and bottom, were from you and Taehyun’s first day of high school. Joy took your picture before you got on the bus in the morning, and then again when you got home. 

In the photo on top you were both dressed nice and your hair was done. Taehyun, as skinny as a rail, was covered in black with a red checkered flannel around his shoulders, and you were in a yellow sundress. You would’ve never worn it if Taehyun didn’t tell you it made you look pretty. Hanging around your bedroom door all morning while you tried to put on a little makeup that Joy had given you, he wouldn’t leave you alone.

At that point, freshman year of high school, your families had been living together for four years. Jin and Joy weren’t married yet, you can still hear the distant jokes they’d make about living in sin.

The bottom photo was hysterical, it honestly made you smile. Standing out front on the sidewalk both you and Taehyun struck funny poses, and on the bus ride home, you’d almost switched outfits. His flannel was tied around your waist, and the two of you tried to switch shoes even though his feet were three sizes bigger than yours. Every piece of jewelry you had put on that morning was given to him, which would mark this as the day that Jin and Joy found out he had pierced his ears himself, without your help, of course. 

Neither your mother nor his father, still to this day, ever found out that sometime that July the two of you went full Parent Trap and stabbed needles through his earlobes in the bathroom you shared. Lindsay Lohan really made it seem entirely too easy, it took three tries to get the needle through his skin. Practice makes perfect though, because when you were eighteen you pierced each other's second and third holes in that bathroom at four in the morning after downing half of Joys Svedka. You made sure to fill it up with water before she and Jin came home from their second cruise of the year.

Low and behold, in true Joy fashion, she never found out.

He had three silver studs in each ear today. Two summers ago he had three silver studs in each ear. You wondered if changing the jewelry gave him the same numb feeling it gave you. He used to wear diamonds, and sometimes he’d wear hoops, or chains that hung from each piercing. Either he didn’t care to switch out the earrings now, in which case he could just take the jewelry out and let the holes close, or he cared too much, and couldn’t touch them. 

Scoffing under your breath at yourself, you shake your head. Thirty-two years old and you were still wallowing in the halls of your mothers home trying to put the puzzle pieces together to figure out if Taehyun cared about you. “Grow up,” you mumbled, spinning around your heels to find your boys. They’d pull you out of this.

“Hope you aren’t talking to me,” Soobin said with a smile, turning the corner just as you were about to sprint out of the hall.

Startled, you huff a laugh and meet him at his side. “No, not you,” you said. “Myself.” Soobin poked one of Wonwoo’s hands, letting the infant latch onto it, squeezing it with might. Only your husband's eyes flickered up to question you.

“Taehyun said you needed me?”

Your face twisted in confusion. “What?”

Thinning his lips into a line, Soobin bobbed his head. “He insisted on helping bring our stuff inside, and when I refused, politely, he told me that you needed me and sent me this way.”

“He’s a jerk.”

“What?” Soobin tilted his head. “I mean- Yeah, but, what happened? Are you okay?”

The sigh you let out ended with a gravely groan. “I’m fine, Soob. I told Joy we haven’t spoken, and she went… All Joy. He’s mad I told her. Said it’s something we can’t work out, ever. Guess he sent you this way ‘cause he thinks I’ll be emotional about it.”

Soobins sparkling eyes studied your being. “Are you?” 

“Do I look like I’m throwing a tantrum?” 

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he paused, looking down at his son who was getting more vocal. “I do know you expected things to get back to normal after you saw each other, though. You wanted to talk it out.”

“I did,” you said, averting your gaze to the floor. “As normal as our normal is.”

Soobin rolled his eyes, but not to degrade you. “Yeah, babe, I wanted you guys to work this out.” Snapping your eyes to his, your lips parted in shock. It made him smirk and roll his eyes again. “As much as I… dislike…” he waved his free hand behind him, “Most of this, and what it put you through… He was your best friend. You can’t deny that.”

“You’re my best friend,” you whispered, and Soobin smized before he shook his head.

“That’s sweet,” he smiled. “But, we know that’s not true.” 

Wonwoo broke out into a cry, a real one this time. Shifting him to a cradle you bounced him and hummed.

“Hungry,” you whispered to the baby. Soobin took a step closer, closing the empty space between you. “Imma go upstairs to feed him.”

Soobin smoothed a hand over yours. “Give him to me. He can have a bottle for now.” Meeting his gaze, you purse your lips. “Go make sure Taehyun didn’t let Chan and Sunoo in the snow.”

Following you out into the foyer where there were a plethora of bags and suitcases, you helped Soobin with Wonwoo’s diaper bag, a battered blue thing that had ‘C. & S.’ stitched into the material right beneath the zipper. All four of your babies have used this bag, and you intended to follow through with the tradition no matter how many times Jin and Joy tried to gift you a brand new, brand name expensive one. Neither you or your husband have gotten a glimpse of the tree yet, but you could make a huge assumption that there would be one wrapped up for you beneath those glittering branches.

Kids were messy, and baby’s were no better. Between you and Soobin, you’ve both told them that they didn’t need to give you the high end things with marked up prices that would be ruined in a few days. You were doing perfectly fine with what you had. And Wonwoo is the baby of four! Back home you had a house filled to brim with enough to have you settled for a fifth or even a sixth.

“Everything is in here, right?” Slinging the bag over Soobin’s shoulder that didn’t have an infant over it, your voice was quiet. Moving at about a mile a minute, you popped the bag open to double check your husband would have what he needed, and listened to him as he laughed.

“I packed the bag, darling, everything’s there,” he said. Looking up at him, you blinked a couple of times. “I’ll be in the kitchen feeding him, okay?” You bobbed your head, rubbing Wonwoo’s back. “I’ll also be looking for our daughter, she and Joy are very quiet.” Darting his eyes down the hall, a snicker escaped you both before he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Come find us when you grab the boys.”

A well-oiled, beautifully communicative team. Soobin truly was the greatest. Coming with so many faults and so much baggage, just look at where you are for the weekend, your husband very rarely, and almost never at all, brings you down for it. Trips like these are always a reminder that you struck gold nine years ago when you decided to take him up on that date night.

Ice cream and a movie. The simplest night, yet one you’ll cherish and remember forever. He picked you up in his used white, two door BMW, from the front porch of this very house. Knocking on the door, Jin was the one to answer. Soobin, in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, stepped up and held out his hand to shake your step-fathers. Back then he wore thick rimmed glasses, nothing like the skinny frames he wears now. They sat on the edge of his nose, and his dark bangs that used to hang in front of his face brushed right over the top of them.

He was totally boy next door, entirely pure, and all the more sweet. A gentleman, he paid for it all, he held your hand during the movie, and when he dropped you off, he walked you to the door and kissed your cheek. It wasn’t anything like you were used to, you had never, ever in your life had a date, yet alone one like Soobin. That one Friday night turned into every Friday night, and four kids later here you were.

Tugging the front door open to fetch your boys, Taehyun seemed to be walking in at the same exact time, bumping directly into you as he fumbled with the door. Nose to nose, you didn’t have a second to even see if the twins were covered in snow as they bolted over the threshold past your legs.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he muttered. His eyes darted away from yours, watching the boys fly down one of the halls, you weren’t sure which.

Still gripping the door handle, digging your fingertips into the gold, you were certain your knuckles were white. Jaw as tight as can be, you sucked in a breath, his cologne surrounding you both comforting and all the more repulsive. Centimeters between you, you wanted nothing more than to release the door and lay your palm out on the side of his face, preferably at a speed that would knock some sense into him. Though you aren’t sure for what.

Taehyun looked down at you, his round lips pursing slightly as he read your expression. A snarky breath of air came out of him as he rolled his eyes. “Give it up,” he said. There was an insatiable itch lying just beneath your skin.

“Yanno, I would, actually,” you began, your eyebrows plummeting. “But, you listened to me.”

A real smirk graced his lips, flashing you his perfectly straight, pearly white teeth. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Sana,” you said. Your entire being filled with glee when his cocky smile fell off his face. “What was it, two years ago? Something like that right?” He rolled his eyes again, his staple. “Someone told me that they were… happy? Was that it? That they were happy, and not exhausting themselves for love? Overworking themselves to get out of their house, to get away from their wife? To get-” “Oh my god, shut up!” Taehyun groaned, dipping his head forward.

The newfound life in his eyes you caught a glimpse of was very much real. The big,  round, chocolatey brown, galaxy filled eyes were back. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed them. They were set perfectly on his face, the buttery olive color of his skin making them pop right above his sculpted nose and cheekbones. His face was slender, and a little small, but his eyes were oceans, filled with wonder. They always have been.

Boys always got the things girls didn’t, like the eyelashes, and Taehyun had plenty to spare. With each blink they fluttered, the chocolate brown turning into a daydream the longer you gazed up at him. His hardened, annoyed expression softened, and you felt yours do the same. His pink lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, his eyes flickered between yours, slowly, like they were trying to drink up this moment, as if it would never happen again.

Thirty-two looked good, the years were clearly kind to him, and you only hoped he was thinking the same. After four kids and five years of sleepless nights, you weren’t feeling your best. Not only that, you were also six months postpartum, wearing clothes that barely hugged your figure so you’d be comfortable. After those four kids, comfort had become a priority.

Taehyun was single now, he had bulked up, and you figured out in these two minutes that he colored his hair lighter on purpose. He looked good. He looked nice. He looked like himself. His entire fit tumbled you back almost twelve years, before Sana, before kids, before everything went to shit. It left you unsettled, but it also wrapped around you with warmth, and safety. Normal, and happy, and comforting, like home should be.

A pout snuck onto your lips, one that Taehyun shifted his gaze toward. “Tae,” you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“No, no, no, you’re gonna cry,” he shook his head the slightest. “Don’t cry.”

“But I will,” you pressed your lips together tight after the words left you. “Talk to me. Please. Especially now, please.”

A sharp breath shot through him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from yours. “I don’t know if I can handle going there again.” His voice was a whisper.

“We don’t have to,” your eyebrows flipped over, pleading with him. Now he looked away, toward the floor between you. “We can start from two years ago, or we can start over, we can be brand new, we can be…” you gulped, “Brother and sister.” 

His shoulders shot back as he stood up straight and plastered the cocky smirk back on his lips. “You really think we can do that?”

Nodding, you tried to smile, but it wouldn’t work. “I do,” you lied to keep him talking. Taehyun shrugged and dropped his smug act that never stood a chance around you, you weren’t even sure why he still tried. “For the sake of our families and our futures, I do.” His eyes melted into yours. The lump lodged in your throat forced a tiny tear out of the corner of your eye. “You were my best friend, Tae.”

“We were codependent and stupid,” he sighed. The words shoved a knife into your gut.

“I don’t disagree,” you said to his surprise. “Codependent and stupid. But, you were my best friend. I miss you.”

Hesitating, Taehyun danced his eyes all around your face, studying you, taking you in. With a breath and a heavy exhale, he nodded, swallowing hard. “I miss you, too.”

“Not lying?”

He shook his head. “Not lying.”

A smile lit up your face. “Joy still has those pictures of us on the wall, the ones from freshman year?”

“The clothes switch?” You both said at the same time and laughed.

“Oh god, they couldn’t take us anywhere,” Taehyun said.

“Menaces, both of us,” you giggled.

Taehyun quirked a brow. “I think I still have those earrings, the ones you had on that day.”

“Now you’re lying, there’s no way you have the-”

“Dangly silver diamonds Joy gave me for our middle school graduation.”

“Dangly silver diamonds Joy gave you for our middle school graduation.”

The both of you screwed your mouths shut and held in a laugh. Taehyun's cheeks turned an endearing shade of pink, and it wasn’t from the open door you were both still standing in. Peeking at the floor like a flustered teenager, he licked his lips and huffed a laugh.

“See,” you said, getting his attention. “We keep talking at the same time, that’s something siblings do, right?”

Taehyun cringed, the physical reaction he had to the words was the same as you.

“That’s…” he began, curling his lip.

“Weird?” you added quietly, and he nodded. “Agreed. I hate it.”

“Friends?” he offered, his voice jumping up at the end, preparing himself for you to hate it. “Is that… less weird?”

“Friends,” you smiled, bouncing your knees once to signify your delight. It was going to have to be something you both worked for, but it was better than nothing. “Thank you.” Reaching between you, you rested your hand on his arm and tried to not express your shock over the muscles that rippled beneath your touch. 

Taehyun glanced at your fingers for a moment, then he smiled and gave his full attention back to you. Lifting a hand, he brushed it over your cheek and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers dance over the earrings you chose to wear. Breath hitching in your throat, your grip tensed on his arm, squeezing accidentally. Time slowed, and for a moment you forgot where you were. A screech from the kitchen from one of your kids brought you back, and both of your hands dropped in an instant. Neither of you had anything to say.

“No wonder it’s freezing!” Joy’s voice carried from around the corner where she appeared from. Whipping yourself around, jumping away from Taehyun, you smiled and took a deep breath. “Shut the damn door!” She was kidless with one arm tucked under the other.

“Sorry,” you said in a hurry, bringing yourself closer to her so that Taehyun could follow orders and push the door shut, clicking the lock into place. Joy took her hands to your shoulders and rubbed your arms, flashing you a curious brow. “We brought the house with us, clearly.” Peeking over your shoulder, you meet Taehyun’s eyes, watching you.

Joy looked from Taehyun, to you, then back to Taehyun. “Did we make up?” She forced her serious tone out of the depths of where she locked away all her parenting skills. Both you and Taehyun gave her a nod.

“All good, Mom,” you said. “Can I help you with dinner? Are we getting anything started yet?”

Joy pressed a hand to your cheek, right where Taehyun’s had been. “Jin’s at the store picking up a couple of last minute things, when he gets back we’ll really get started.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s got my kids,” Taehyun snickered, waltzing past the two of you toward the kitchen.

“Does he?!” Joy shouted. “This whole time I thought they were getting into trouble somewhere up there!” She gestured to the floor above her.

Taehyun paused beside her and grabbed her shoulder. “Joy, be honest, you never knew what happened up there.” 

“I knew enough, okay?” Defending herself, she held up a hand. “You were two teenagers going through everything at the same exact time, I was not going to get in your way! I was a teenager before, okay? I hated when my mother was in my space. When we moved into this house you both got the second floor for a reason!”

“A+ parenting, Joy,” Taehyun nodded, and you did your best to swallow a giggle.

Joy groaned. “Come on you two, I’ve been up there. I wasn’t a neglectful mother! Taehyun, we helped you move out, I saw the walls and the carpets in both your rooms, and the tile in the bathroom. You were kids, you were stupid, but you had your own space and it made you two closer than ever, and as a mother, I couldn’t ask for more.”

Tiny feet running down the hall stole everyone's attention. Chan and Sunoo, at the speed of light, wearing wicked smiles, were flying toward the other end of the hall. As they passed by the three of you, Sunoo latched onto Taehyun's legs, his short arms just making it around them.

“Whoa!” Taehyun shouted, gripping the little one by the back to make sure he wouldn’t fall, his voice signaling to Chan that his brother had stopped shorthand.

“What the heck are you two doing?” You watched Chan turn around and wrap himself around Taehyun's other leg, his arms just barely reaching his brother's shoulders. The twins laughed maniacally, then gazed up at Taehyun.

“We was racing, Mom!” Chan said, sucking down deep breaths.

“We were racing,” Taehyun corrected.

Sunoo’s smile was so wide it almost hid the tired in his eyes. The only one out of four to not have a car nap. “We raced to Uncle Taehyun! I won!”

Joy planted a hand over heart. “How sweet,” she said, giving you a look.

Chan leapt away from his uncle and crossed his arms over his tucked in button down. Dark brows lowered furiously, your five year old scolded his copy. “We was not, Sunoo!” A little performer, Chan stomped a foot. “You said the hallway!”

“We were not, Chan,” Taehyun corrected him again. He crouched down and wrapped an arm around Sunoo, then motioned for Chan to join him in his other one. “Besides, it doesn't matter who won, right?” Sunoo opened his mouth to object, but Taehyun moved right along. “It’s Christmas, and Santa comes tonight.” The boy's eyes shot open wide, and you and Joy laughed quietly.

“He’s so good with them,” Joy said to you under her breath.

“We can’t be mad at each other when Santa’s coming, can we?!” Taehyun asked, and both boys shook their heads. “Right,” he grinned, the sight making your stomach flip. “Now, I say we go upstairs and look for something to do while we wait for Rosie and Minho to come back and play. Sounds good?”

“Good!” Sunoo and Chan shouted.

“Yanno, it’s uncanny,” Joy said as she took a step backward toward the kitchen. You both watched Taehyun take a twin with each hand and start for the stairs on the opposite end of the house. “They share no relation, but those boys have his damn eyes.” Shooting you a smile like she didn’t just send your stomach plummeting for the floor, she turned around for the kitchen and shouted, “Soobin, I want my grandson! Give him up!”

Arms slung around Soobin’s shoulders where he sat at the kitchen table, you rested your chin on the top of his head, watching Joy rock Wonwoo in her arms. The chiffon fabric that hung from her arms brushed over his face occasionally, making him giggle, and in return, making everyone else giggle. Still swaddled in his teddy bear onesie, Wonwoo stared at his grandmother in awe, his stubby fingers trying to reach for her shiny jewelry.

“I love it when they can’t run away,” Joy cooed, nuzzling her nose on Wonwoo’s. “In a couple months he’ll be on the move, then you won’t be able to do this anymore.”

“Ouch, okay, don’t do that to me,” you said, and Soobin agreed.

“That’s our baby,” Soobin frowned. “Please don’t rush it.”

Joy smiled toward you two, nodding to Mina who was cuddled up on Soobins lap. Her thumb was in her mouth and her eyes were halfway shut. She was completely dead weight, Soobin already tried to move her. She wouldn’t budge.

“Least that one’s still cuddly,” she said. Blowing a raspberry, you glanced down at your daughter. “Your only girl… Consider another.” Eyes boggling out of your head, you and Soobin both, you laughed and held each other tighter. Soobin had his hand wrapped around one of your wrists.

“Four seems like quite enough, Joy,” Soobin said. Joy raised her eyebrows, shrugged, and cooed down at Wonwoo. “We didn’t even know that one was coming!”

Joy’s attention shot up. “Exactly,” she smized. “It could happen again!”

You and Soobin shared a quick look. “Mm,” you hummed. “I don’t think so.”

“Don’t be so silly,” Joy said to the baby, directed at you. “Anything can happen, anything is possible… Right, Wonwoo?” Your son cooed at his grandmother. “That’s right, sweetie pie.”

Watching your mother cradle the baby and talk about having more kids as if it were nothing but a past time nauseated you. Here, in a kitchen that’s been redone oodles of times, in a house that was oodles of dollars you cannot even begin to comprehend, with a woman who had one daughter with a man she was married to for not even a year.

Dating men on and off throughout your childhood before she met Jin, you encountered a lot of strange and unusual people who somehow, conveniently, always had money. They would spoil your mother and buy her things she didn’t need that she’d give to you. Plenty of them offered her marriage, but she refused for whatever good reason she had in her materialistic mind.

It wasn’t that she was a bad mother, she didn’t neglect you, or brush you off, or set you aside… It was more of the fact that she was rarely present, and if she was present, she wasn’t paying attention.

Most of the men she dealt with were way older than her and typically kidless. If they did have kids, they were old enough to be out of the picture without having to be around to see their father mess around with a gold digger single mother. You really don’t know how she did it, maintaining multiple relationships at once without them figuring each other out. But, everything changed when she met Jin. Taehyun’s father.

Neither of you liked to say it was your fault they ended up together, but ultimately it was your fault that they ended up together. An elementary school incident that had both of your parents meeting in front of the teachers desk at the end of a long winter's day.

Taehyun had been pulling on your pigtails, and you didn’t like it very much, so you took it upon yourself to push him to the floor. When he fell he knocked over one of the toy bins, and stuffed animals poured out on the floor everywhere, and Taehyun saw an opportunity. He picked one up and threw it at you. Thus beginning a stuffy fight with every first grader in the class.

It took two years for them to start dating, it wasn’t official until you were in third grade and you hadn’t spoken to Taehyun in a while because you had girl friends at that point, and boys had cooties, and besides, Taehyun would always be the boy who used to pull your hair.

Joy and Jin kept a lot of things separate for a while, they didn’t let you or Taehyun see them together, interact, or just simply know if they were going out together. It was some well kept secret, one that was hidden out of sight for about a year and half, until the summer of sixth grade when they decided to buy a house and move everybody in together. Taehyun wasn’t happy. At first, neither of you were. You adjusted a lot faster, loving the big, brand new room where you’d have complete interior design control, and long halls, stretchy walls, and echoey ceilings. A touch of Joy's materialism may have rubbed off on you at some point.

The boy who now lived across the hall from you struggled for almost a year. Joy had found her perfect match, because Jin had no idea. Taehyun would spend too much time in his room blasting loud music, and shortly after living together you found out that he knew how to sneak in and out of his bedroom window, shimmying down a tree that hugged the back edge of the house. Eventually you would learn how to do that, too. And it was painful. But, it was entirely too much fun. You figured out quickly how to get friends into your rooms from that tree.

Joy was half right when she told you she didn’t neglect you, but that didn’t mean she was winning Mother Of The Year. When she held your kids and cuddled them, and kissed their noses, and gave them treats, her intentions were genuine. It healed some part of you deep down inside, while it simultaneously crushed your heart into a trillion pieces. They were getting a side of her you didn’t get.

The moment you found out you were pregnant in the upstairs bathroom of this house, not even knowing it was twins, you vowed to be the mother to them you never had. You would give your kids a beautiful life, one where they’d never have to question whether or not their parents loved them. 

That’s also part of the reason why you married Soobin. He was a good man, he always has been, and he’s proven that he’s an even better father. Soobin became your peace amongst the chaos, your rock. At home, when it’s just the six of you, you’re calm, level headed, and able to think clearly thanks to your husband's guidance that took years for you to adapt to. When you’re here, at home, back in a life you were hardwired to always live, things got a little blurry.

“Do I hear Jin?” Joy glanced to the arched doorway of the kitchen, narrowing her eyes like it would help her hear better. On the opposite side of the house, away from the garage, one would think it’d be impossible to hear the doors open, but like the footsteps around the house, you were conditioned and your ears were trained to hear that sound from a mile away.

“Yeah, he’s back,” you said. Soobin laced his brows together, looking up at you. He didn’t have ears in this house like you. “I’ll go help him.”

Your husband started to stand up, gracefully sliding your daughter into your arms. “She’s about to knock out, I’ll go help him.” Wrapping your arms around Mina, the two year old buried herself in your chest, her arms clinging to the fabric of your sweater. “Baby girl needs her mom,” Soobin whispered, his lips perking up into a small smile. “I’ll have the boys come down too.”

“He’s so good with them, isn’t he, Soobin?” Joy spoke up. Your husband turned to flash your mother a grin. “Taehyun? So good with kids.” “Somebody’s got to be the fun guy, right?” Soobin half laughed, then looked at you with his lips completely flat.

“I talked to him,” you said under your breath, and Soobins eyes narrowed. “Before he took the boys upstairs, we spoke.” Peeking behind him finding Joy invested in Wonwoo, Soobin faced you completely and kissed your cheek.

“It’s going to be okay,” he mumbled, though it sounded more like a question.

Nodding fast, you smiled. “It’s gonna be okay.”

With a gentle squeeze to your shoulder, Soobin left the kitchen, leaving you with your mother and your babies. Taking the seat your husband was just in, you adjusted Mina so she was comfy, and kissed the top of her head. Her forehead was warm and her cheeks were rosy.

“Mom, you have any Tylenol…” Your voice faded as you looked up, finding her staring at you with a studious look. She was focused, eyes pointed at you with an intent you couldn’t seem to read. “What now?”

Joy shook her head, dangly earrings bouncing below her ears. “Just thinking.”

“Uh oh,” you said, and she scoffed. “I’m kidding,” you dipped your chin to apologize, “What’re you thinking about?”

Joy teetered her head side to side, glancing about her thirty thousand dollar kitchen. “I dunno, I’m just so happy to have you and Taehyun here, and your families.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you started to frown, and a nervousness settled into your chest, much like how it would when you were a kid and your mother put on her serious face. It was just you and her in the kitchen, there wasn’t a stray Taehyun around to save you.

“No, I am, truly,” she said. “When you both said you’d be here I couldn’t wait to have you both under one roof again, for an entire weekend. You’re both adults, you both are so busy, we haven’t gotten to be a family in a long, long time.” Joy copied your frown, averting her gaze to the table in front of her, then to your baby in her arms. “If I think about it for too long… I wonder if we’ve ever… been a family.”

“Mom,” you sang. She looked up to you and shrugged. “We’ve been a family for such a long time, you know that right? Taehyun and I were twelve when we moved here, that’s… that’s like, holy shit, that’s like twenty years.”

“Twenty years of what?” Joy asked, purely genuine. Her eyes begged yours for help. The nervousness in your chest spread to your stomach, filling your entire being with unease.

“What are you getting at, Joy?” you almost snapped. 

Your mother’s bottom lip crinkled. “You didn’t know he was divorced, you haven’t spoken in two years, what kind of mother have I been? A mother should know this about her kids.”

“Technically he’s not yours,” you joked, hoping she would laugh. She did not.

“He has been for ten years through the law.”

“Yeah, but even then, we were, what? Twenty-two when you and Jin officially got married?”

Joy pressed her lips together, firm. “What do you have against us being a family?” Her voice was quiet, incredibly hushed that not even the baby’s stirred, but her tone was packed full of venom. Eyes going wide, you sat back in the chair and took a shallow breath. For a minute she stared at you. Then, she shook her head and looked down at Wonwoo who dozed off. “Why didn’t you two speak for so long?”

Rolling your eyes you held Mina closer and sighed. You’ve relived the fight you and Taehyun had at his daughter's tenth birthday party so many times, most times with Soobin when it became unbearable to stay in your head. Neither one of your parents cared, until now it seemed, but that’s how it went. Selective parenting, like she was playing make believe.

“I told him…” You weren’t sure how to begin. It might be a whole lot better if you just ripped off the bandaid. “I told him to divorce her.”

Joy's expression went unchanged. “Why would you… How could you even say those words?”

“Mom, do you remember how he used to be? Sure, he looks fantastic now, but two, three years ago? He was miserable!” Your volume had raised, Mina shifted on your lap.

“They were a family.” “She was using him for his money, Mom, come on,” you spat back, feeling your veins fill with fire. “You and this preconceived idea of family. We could all see what she was doing to him, I’m shocked she didn’t force five more fuckin’ kids out of him.”

“He loves those kids.”

Your eyes were ready to roll out of your head, the amount of times they’ve spun already. “Of course he does, he’s a great father. He could have a billion of them and he’d love them all the same. That doesn’t mean he was happy with Sana, though.” Joy’s glare had softened at some point. “I was the only one who cared enough to speak up, to help him realize, wake him up! And it made him hate me.”

Joy nodded, pursing her lips. “Is that the only reason?”

“Yes, Joy, it is,” you said, keeping your eyes locked on hers. Not letting her see through the half lie you forced past your lips.

“Okay,” she said. “But, you guys talked it out.”

“Somewhat.”

A small nod was all she could give you before two bodies strolled into the kitchen, all carrying shopping bags.

“We’re back!” An enthusiastic, young, happy voice filled the air. Turning to the commotion, you gave the young boy who looked back at you a huge smile. Dark hair and round brown eyes, Minho was the spitting image of his father. His smile was a bit like his mothers, smaller and poutier, but the rest of him was straight Taehyun.

Dressing like him too, the eight year old wore black ripped jeans and an oversized grey hoodie with a band you used to know on the front. Converse high tops were laced on his feet and a black beanie covered his head. He looked at you from beneath his bangs that almost covered his eyes. He and Taehyun both needed haircuts.

“Hi, Minho,” you said softly.

The boy gave you a small wave. “Hi. Is that Mina?” He pointed to the baby on your lap, and you frowned.

“It is,” you said. “She’s not feeling good.”

“Don’t let her near me,” a shrill, higher pitched voice said from behind the kitchen island. Shifting your eyes over to the twelve year old in wedged chelsea boots, you flashed her your best smile.

“Don’t worry, Rosie,” you breathed. “It’s just a little cold.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she sneered, walking over to Joy, letting you get a glimpse of what she was wearing for the day. You wanted to gasp in disbelief. “Mom’s taking me to New York City when we leave here, I cannot get sick.”

The twelve year old wore an emerald green silk dress that wrapped around her neck and covered her left arm, leaving the right one exposed to the winter air. The dress stopped above her knees. On her legs she wore shimmering black stockings that went into her, you guessed it right, three inch high black boots that lived at her ankle. Silver bracelets jingled on her right wrist, and diamonds were in her ears. She flashed them to you whenever she swung her shoulder length black hair back and forth.

Rosie leaned against Joy, who wrapped her arm around her back, and looked down at Wonwoo. “Who’s baby?”

Joy laughed, but you wanted to scream.

“Your aunt’s, silly,” Joy said to her. “They had another baby, her and Soobin.”

Rosie was unimpressed. “Do you guys ever stop doing it?” She looked at you with her nose turned up. You could’ve choked on air at her words. If Soobin were in the room he’d be throwing a fit. Joy, no surprise, laughed at her granddaughter.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Minho asked, stepping closer to you curiously. He went from watching Mina, to watching you, to looking for Wonwoo. Giving him your full attention, turning away from the Sana clone at the other end of the table, you smiled.

“A boy, his name is Wonwoo,” you said. Minho shared your smile and nodded, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Weird name,” Rosie muttered. “Where’s my dad?”

“Upstairs with Chan and Sunoo, your Uncle Soobin just went looking for them,” Joy said. “Why don’t you go find them and tell them we’re starting dinner.” Rosie groaned, tipping her head backward, and strutted off, boots clacking on the floor with every step.

“I don’t wanna cook. Mom doesn’t make me cook,” her voice faded away as she entered the hall.

Shooting your mother a look she didn’t share with you, you said, “She’s… something.”

“She’s adjusting.” Joy’s whisper was a tad harsh, nicking your skin with a bite.

“Did Mina have to take medicine?” Minho asked, the sweet boy thankfully taking your attention. “My dad makes me drink this gross stuff when I have a cold.” The boy climbed into the chair next to you and watched his sleeping cousin.

“She didn’t yet, I wasn’t sure she’d need any, but now I’m thinking that she does. What gross stuff does he make you drink?” Crinkling your nose, you made him giggle.

“It’s orange, and it says it tastes like honey, but I don’t think it does,” Minho made a face and shook his head. “He calls it-”

“Bee Juice,” you said.

“Yeah!” Minho’s face lit up. “How did you know that?”

“We used to drink that when we were sick,” you said, your smile growing as you watched him settle in to listen to your story. “This one time, we were around Rosies’ age, I was really sick, and I refused to take any kind of medicine to help me feel better. Your dad tried to help me, and he was making all these funny jokes about it. There’s bees on the bottle right?” Minho nodded. “He called it Bee Juice, and for some reason that made me take it, and it made it taste good.”

“That’s funny,” Minho said. “Mina needs Bee Juice. I know my dad has some, he brought it with him.”

Your smile faltered. “He did?”

“Yeah, he says he keeps it just in case. Do you want me to tell him Mina needs it?”

“No, Minho, that’s okay,” you said. “I can ask him later.”

“Ask him now,” Joy said, gesturing to the doorway.

The kitchen filled with shouts, laughter and life. Taehyun barreled through the doorway with Sunoo on his back and three shopping bags in his hands. Chan hurried beside him, holding a quarter gallon of milk in his hands.

“We’ve got it,” Sunoo announced to the room, acquiring a round of laughter. “No one worry.”

Soobin trailed behind him, chatting with Jin who had Rosie attached to his side. Both adults had bags in their hands as well, lifting them onto the island Taehyun sat Sunoo on. Deep in conversation, probably something about work, Jin still made a move to hug you tight as best as he could without disturbing Mina, then went back to Soobin, helping him unload some of the plastic bags.

Rosie wandered to the table with her nose now in a cell phone that had a clear hot pink case with a polaroid photo shoved in the back of some celebrity she probably loved. Her glossed lips were pulled into a frown as she tapped away at the screen furiously.

After sliding the milk onto the counter carefully, Chan came to your side and peeked over your arm to check on his sister. “She is asleep?”

“She is,” you said softly. “Were you worried about her?”

Chan nodded. “She will be okay for Santa, right?”

“Santa!?” Rosie roared from her seat.

You shut her down quickly with a glare, not caring if Sana heard about it, then turned to your son. “She’ll be okay, love, I promise.”

“Okay, mom,” Chan said.

“Did you see Minho? Did you say hi?”

Chan looked to his right and smiled something small, feeling shy beside an unfamiliar face. The last time they saw each other Minho was six, and the twins were three. Minho probably remembered them, but your boys were just becoming aware of their own arms at the time, you weren’t sure they’d remember.

“Are you Chan or Sunoo?” Minho asked, looking between the twin in front of him and the twin crawling on top of the counter in front of his own father.

Chan almost gasped and put his hands on his hips. A smirk found your lips. Drama queen incoming. “I am Chan,” the five year old said loud and clear. “That is Sunoo,” he pointed to his brother. “You can tell us a part, my favorite color is blue, and Sunoo’s favorite color is red.”

Minho laughed, looking to you for a second. “You guys look exactly alike.”

“We are twins!” Chan exclaimed, tossing his arms out to the side. “This is my sister Mina, and that is my brother Wonwoo, he is new.”

“That’s my sister, Rose,” Minho nodded to his sister who didn’t bother to look up. “We call her Rosie.”

“Rosie,” Chan whispered as if he was mentally logging her name.

“She’s mean,” Minho admitted, and Chan gasped. You held yours back, waiting for him to say more.

“Why is she mean?” Chan’s eyebrows dropped low.

Minho shrugged. “She just is. Don’t talk to her.”

Leaning toward the two boys, you whispered, “I second that. Don’t talk to her.” Chan smiled, and Minho laughed, seeming surprised. Winking at him, he tried to give one back, the two of you solidifying some sort of alliance in this moment, though your aversion stemmed from your resentment for Sana.

“Minnie!” Taehyun shouted, rounding the kitchen counters to hurry over to his son. Throwing his arms around the boy's shoulders, he squeezed him tight and shook his side to side, pressing kisses to his cheek. His boy laughed, trying to shy away from him, but it was clear that he loved it. “Were you good for your grandpa?”

“Yeah,” Minho said, looking up at Taehyun.

“‘Course you were,” he grinned, then glanced to his daughter. “Rosie?”

“Hm?” She didn’t take her eyes off her phone screen. Taehyun didn’t lose his smile. He didn’t have to for you to see the disappointment within him.

“Were you good for Grandpa Jin?” he asked her.

Rosie glared at her father, holding eye contact for a few seconds. She didn’t say a word, and she didn’t need to. When she focused back down on her phone, Minho, still in Taehyun’s arms, looked at you.

“See? Mean,” he said.

Taehyun clicked his tongue. “Don’t talk about your sister like that. One day she could be all you have.” Your cheeks flushed as he glanced to you. Pressing a kiss to his son's head, he stood up and attended to your son calling his name from the kitchen counter.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” His silvery hair bounced as he rushed. Gathering Sunoo in his arms he twirled once and set him on the ground. Your five year olds giggle sounded through the kitchen, standing out amongst the other chatter. 

Joy had left her seat, and Wonwoo was in Soobin’s arms now, still snoozing. This ambiance was the same as the one from home, that little boy could sleep through it all. Your husband rocked the baby while he bounced his knees, still deep in conversation with Jin. Those two have gotten along since the very first day Soobin showed up at the front door.

Putting away groceries, Joy had acquired Taehyun’s help, who had recruited Sunoo. The little one puttered around and did his absolute best to follow directions. Chan was asking Minho questions, ones you couldn’t make out over the noise, and Rosie was unbothered, tapping away at her phone.

On your lap Mina moved, her rosy cheeks looking up to find you. A soft, “Mama,” escaped her, and you both pouted.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” you whispered, kissing her head gently. “We brought you here when you don’t feel well, that’s so unfair.” Across the kitchen you caught Soobin’s eye, your husband leaning against the counter. When you met his gaze he gave you a sympathetic smile. Pushing your chair back, you let Chan know where you were going as he turned to look at you, and laughed as he climbed into the vacant chair at lightning speed. Minho grabbed the bottom of it and pulled it closer to him, the two chatting away.

“Those two were fast friends,” Soobin said when you reached his side, nodding at your son and his cousin. Jin joined Joy, Taehyun and Sunoo in the unloading of the groceries and the prep for dinner. Looking back at the kids, Minho had his phone out now and was showing Chan something that had him giggling. “Should I go see what they’re looking at?”

“No,” you said a little too fast for Soobin’s liking. Flashing him a soft gaze, you smiled. “They both tell us everything, you know that. Besides, Chan’s a rule follower. I guarantee you he’ll have parental locks on both those kids’ phones by the end of this weekend.”

Soobin chuckled, shaking his head. “Our kids aren’t getting phones till they're thirty.”

“Agreed,” you said. “I find it a little crazy Minho has one at eight.”

Soobin hummed, then said, “I mean it makes sense.”

“How?” you scoffed.

“Their parents are divorced,” he nearly mumbled, shooting you a look.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a second. “Right. Joy was just blaming me for ruining their lives, how could I forget.”

Though your sarcasm was evident, Soobin’s eyes went wild. “What are you talking about?”

“Rosie’s attitude, toward everyone apparently,” you began, scanning the kitchen. “I’m sure somethings going on with Minho, Taehyun may not be as well as I thought he was, and it’s all my fault, all of it. I told her what I said to him.”

Something of a groan came from Soobins chest. “None of it is your fault, don’t let her do that to you.” His hardened, protective glare was coming out. It made you smile. “He made his choice, he did that to his family. And as for Rosie?” He widened his eyes. “Full blame is on Sana. I feel like she’s here.”

“Hang on! I left it upstairs, gimme a minute, I’ll be right back,” Taehyuns voice echoed to his family as he rushed by you and Soobin into the hall. 

Watching him fly by, you turned to Soobin and said, “Minho told me Taehyun’s got cough medicine.”

“Oh?” Soobin raised a brow.

“Mhm,” you gritted your teeth and widened your eyes. “I’m gonna go see if Mina can take it, and try to find out why he has it.”

Soobin took a breath, appearing like he wanted to tell you not to do it. “For Mina.”

“Yes, for Mina,” you repeated. Your husband tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded slowly. “Soobin,” your tone was flat.

“I’ll have a drink ready for you when you come back, what do you want?” he asked, expertly switching the subject. 

A small smile popped onto your lips, one Soobin returned. “Just a glass of water, please.”

“Of course,” he nodded.

Down the hall and up the stairs you used to run up and down as a teenager, you stared at the stretch of a corridor that had two doors on either side, two bedrooms, and a pushed back bathroom to your right on the other side of the railing. Many, many, many feet across from you was the other staircase that wound down to the first floor near the kitchen. They opened up to the living room where a fireplace and the giant TV lived, right by a little hallway that took you to a sliding glass door and spacious backyard.

The floor was wooden, like the stairs. A deep, chestnut color that matched every door in this place. There wasn’t a single window in the hall, but there was a long one in the bathroom next to the shower, and both bedrooms had three. Your bedroom was to the left. Taehyuns was to the right. Outside of your door sat most of your bags from downstairs, all of them brought up for you. Taking your time toward them in the quiet air, you let your gaze fawn over every mark on the wall, every scuff, every memory that was crammed into every inch of this second floor. It was a lot cleaner now that no one occupied this space. 

Jin and Joy’s bedroom was on the first floor, they rarely had a reason to come up here.

The door to the bathroom was cracked open, the tile on the floor lit up by the sun peeking through the window curtain, illuminating the shadows of a past you seemed to be longing for.

Adjusting Mina on your front, you cradled her head and sighed. This little one was a reminder that your life had turned for the better, that the past was in the past, and that it was something you needed to leave behind, though here in this quiet hall it seemed impossible. You used to laugh until your stomach hurt, the sleepless nights up here were endless. Sneaking your friends in through Taehyun’s window, hiding bottles of drinks you shouldn’t have underneath your bed so your parents wouldn’t find them, getting so stupidly under the influence that led to hookups, and more hookups.

You were young, you were stupid, you were having fun. You weren’t knee deep in diapers, playing peek-a-boo, or worried about bills. Life was exciting, and you were as light as a feather, letting life take you where it wanted to, which most times was through the door Taehyun stepped out of now. Startling each other, you gasped, then let out a soft laugh. He had a phone in his hand and a small smile on his face.

“I didn’t even hear you come up here,” he said, taking a step toward you.

“Guess I still know how to be sneaky,” you smirked. He was enamored by it for all of two seconds, then his smile dropped as he cleared his throat. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean-“

“I know,” he nodded, then attempted another smile. It was quiet for a moment before he said, “Strange up here now.”

“Definitely,” you sighed. Taehyun peeked at his phone that vibrated twice, then looked back up at you.

“I, uh, brought up your stuff,” he gestured to your bags, “You have a lot of shit.” You both laughed.

“I have four kids,” you raised your eyebrows. “My shit has a lot of shit.”

Taehyun flashed his grin. You ignored the cartwheel in your stomach. “Congratulations, by the way,” he said. “He’s beautiful. Wonwoo.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, proud. “He was a perfect little surprise.”

“Joy told me,” he said, nodding his head. 

Your eyes narrowed. “When?”

“This past summer,” his volume dropped. “We celebrated Rosie’s birthday here.”

Your heart sunk to your knees. Shaking your head, you held back a sigh. “We were here this summer, right before Wonwoo was born, I knew nothing about it.”

Taehyun shrugged. “Yeah, well…”

“You have to go past me to come here,” you said, adjusting Mina on your front once more. “Jin or Joy didn’t even tell us?!”

“I told them not to,” he admitted.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you straighten out your back and tighten your jaw.

“Are you really surprised?” Taehyun asked. “We hadn’t seen each other in forever.” He took two more steps toward you, shoving his phone in his back pocket. “The last time we spoke, you were yelling in my face.”

“I distinctly remember you yelling in my face,” you said just above a whisper, taking a step toward him. The anger you used to feel when this topic came up bubbled to the surface, simmering beneath your skin. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“You always want to talk to me,” he said. The two of you had a foot of space between you now, and you could tell you shared the rage you were feeling inside. “It took me a while to realize that you don’t know this, but when people break up they don’t do this.”

Jaw clenched, eyes as wide as the moon, you shook your head. “Do what.”

Taehyun tipped his head back and huffed a laugh, looking elsewhere for a second. “This. Talk to each other, stay involved, unless…”

“Unless what?” your voice trembled, a mere whisper.

Darting his tongue out between his lips, he swallowed hard, and muttered, “Unless they still love each other.”

“That bullshit doesn’t apply here,” you said quickly, and quietly. “This is different, we are different.”

Taehyun lowered his chin. “We are fucked up.”

Taking a long, deep breath, you took a step away from him and spun in a slow circle, collecting your thoughts and your composure.  “Friends, we said we can be friends.” Facing him, his eyes were solemn.

“Yeah, and be honest with me now that shock of seeing each other is gone,” he said. “You really think we can do that?”

A piece of you needed to make it work. Standing up here in this hallway now with him, coming to the full realization that he used to be the only stable thing in your life, you needed to make it work. He was your best friend, your other half, your partner in crime. Home, he was home.

“I said it downstairs, we can work for it,” you said. “I want you in my life, Taehyun. I need you in my life. We’re… family. I want my kids to know you, I want our kids to grow up together. Life feels right when we’re in a good place, when there isn’t so much space between us.”

“And what happens when that space gets too small?” Taehyun was a rock, eyes locked on yours as you spoke.

“It won’t,” you exhaled heavily, letting your knees give a bit. “We can-”

“It will,” Taehyun cut you off, closing the space between you completely. “It always does. It happened six years ago, it will happen again.” His tone was rough, but it didn’t correlate with the way he was gazing down at you. “Maybe you can pretend that we can try to be friends. But… I got a divorce ‘cause a girl I love helped me realize I was killing myself. And she was the only one who cared. For twenty years… you’re the only one who cared. You still are, and it hurts like hell.”

“Taehyun…”

“I told you I didn’t wanna go here,” he snickered, shaking his head. “Stupid of me to think that we could avoid it.” He stepped away from you, heading towards the staircase behind you. The loss of his warmth in front of you was disappointing. Turning around, cradling your daughter, you stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Bee Juice,” you said. He peered over his shoulder with one hand on the railing.

“What?”

“Bee Juice,” you nodded. “Mina’s sick, I didn’t bring anything with me. Do you think Joy has something?” Taehyuns eyes drew up and down your body, ending on the little one latched to your front.

“Um, I dunno,” he said. “I might? Minho was sick a little while ago when he was with Sana, lemme see if I brought anything with me.” When he walked by you he didn’t bother to look at you. Walking straight into his old bedroom, he left the door ajar. Unsure whether or not it was an invitation to follow him, you took a few timid steps into the doorway and felt every joint in your body tighten at the sight of his walls.

Posters, polaroid pictures and flags covered the dark grey paint, the artwork spilling onto the ceiling as well. His king sized bed was shoved into the far left corner, with what looked like a hundred pillows tossed onto the top. The comforter was still black, and fluffy. Your fingers can feel the softness without having to touch it.

A nightstand that once was messy and littered with life, was clean and housed a stack of three books he’d read religiously throughout the year, every year, and a lamp without a shade. There was a drawer on it that was all banged up, and you wondered if it was still full of things it shouldn’t be full of. Plenty of late nights were spent rummaging through the drawer in the dark, the light of the moon guiding you both through your bad decisions.

The dressers on the opposite wall were the same, and the walk in closet still had mirrors for doors. It was as if the years had been preserved, and this was a time capsule of beautiful mistakes you were sentenced for life to remember.

Taehyun rummaged through a suitcase at the end of his bed. He side eyed you as you walked in the door. You didn’t dare take a step closer to him or offer him help, because low and behold, he found what he was looking for, and more. As he pulled the orange bottle of Dayquil out of his bag, a small, round black bottle, one that photographers used for film, rolled out onto the floor and rattled loud. You both looked at it, then you looked at him before he grew the balls to look up too. 

“Taehyun.”

“I don’t take them,” he muttered, looking up with only his eyes. “It’s been years, I swear. Even this,” he held up the bottle of cough medicine, “Nothing.”

Bee Juice was two words you weren’t expecting to hear this weekend. They were two words you hadn’t heard in a long, long time. In fact, the last time you even said them was probably in here in his room, with two other friends who’d join in on figuring out how much of the shit you can drink before you make yourselves sick. It was the type of high you’d never want to experience ever again. Just the thought of it turned your stomach. Taehyun was the only one to stick with it out of the four of you, the rest of you turned to other things, other drugs, or simply drinking, but he’d put that garbage in anything and everything.

Knowing he had the bottle on him made you nervous. Throughout his marriage you knew he wasn’t completely sober, he’d never grown out of that part of his life, he’d use it to cope. With how his marriage began, he was a child having a child, he became incredibly dependent on both bottles that came out of his bag.

“Why do you have it all with you?” you asked softly, hoping he’d talk it out.

Picking the bottle of pills off the floor he tossed them back into his suitcase and rubbed his forehead, his nervous eyes glancing to you a couple of times. “I don’t… I can’t explain it.”

“Try,” you said, taking a step toward him.

“I guess I just… I feel better, knowing it’s here, yanno?” Raking a hand through his hair exposing his forehead, he shrugged. “I don’t take any of it, but it’s here.” He faced you. “I’ve been sober for over a year, since I decided to leave her. I haven’t taken anything, I haven’t had a drink, I haven’t smoked anything.”

“I’m sober too,” you nodded, and watched as relief flooded his being. “It would be… six years.” Taehyun furrowed his brow. “But, it’s two, almost three.” 

After a gulp Taehyun asked, “Don’t tell me… After we…”

“Yup,” you popped the ‘p’ and shot him a sarcastic smile. “It was just a… bottle, maybe.” Taehyun shook his head. “And, yanno, the more I think about it, it should really be nine years, but…”

“Six years ago we were getting fucked up at Beomgyu’s,” he said. One of the old friends you shared. He was at Rosie’s tenth birthday two years ago, but you hadn’t seen him since. The other friend was Yeonjun. He’s been off the grid since you were twenty-one. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He shrugged again. “All of that was my fault.”

Scoffing, you walked further into his bedroom. “Taehyun, it was my choice to do it. You didn’t put the drugs in me.”

“Sometimes I did.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “‘Cause I told you to.” Approaching his side slowly, you took the bottle from him and retreated a couple steps. “I’m gonna believe you, but only because you look good, Tae.”

“Thanks, Baby,” he whispered with a smirk.

“If Soobin hears you say that he’ll lose his mind,” you warned.

Throwing his hands out to the side, Taehyun audibly expressed his frustration. “That’s been your name since we were fifteen!”

“Yeah, when we started sleeping in the same bed,” you widened your eyes. Holding up the bottle, you thanked him and sulked into the hall, pausing to process… all of that.

You could hear him zipping up the suitcase, putting it back where he’d found it. Walking across the hall, wanting to avoid him when he left his bedroom, you open your door and quickly shut it behind you, propping yourself up against the wood with a breath. Bare, sage green walls glared at you from all angles. In the center of the room underneath one of the three windows was your bed, also king sized, with four different knitted blankets thrown on top joined by matching pillows. The mattress wasn’t nearly as crowded as Taehyun’s.

Two redwood nightstands were on either side of the bed, both empty. The two dressers on the opposite wall were empty as well, except for the picture frames sitting on top. Three photos. One of you, Taehyun, Yeonjun and Beomgyu at a park across town at some ungodly hour of the morning. The second was you and Taehyun, seventeen years old, with your cheeks squeezed together and your eyes crossed with your lips squished all silly. The third was you and your mother when you were just five years old, the same age as your boys. They may have learned to copy Soobins pout, but those boys were all you, and this photo was proof.

Your room was eerie compared to Taehyun’s, his for some reason had life, while yours was completely still and quiet. Laying Mina down on your bed where you used to sleep, you kiss her cheek and kneel down on the floor beside her, putting the Dayquil on the nightstand. Your two year old lifted her head and whined, holding out her arms for you.

“I’m gonna help you, Meens,” you whispered, unscrewing the top of the bottle. The smell smacked you in the face, almost making you gag. Gripping the bottle with one hand, you went to pour a little bit into the lid, but froze as the alarms went off in your brain. “What the hell,” you sighed, turning the bottle around to read it. “I can’t give you this. What am I doing?” 

Mina found her thumb, shoving it in her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut.

Bringing the bottle to your nose, your eyes watered, and a chill ran down your spine. For a brief second you’re reminded of what it was like… How it used to be. How you’d walk by your parents totally fried, and they’d have no idea. The euphoria was so intense some nights all you could do was lay on Taehyun’s floor with your head in his lap while he and your friends listened to music you could barely make out.

You can feel his fingers running through your hair as your eyes shut, body vibrating at a frequency unknown to most, leaving you with nothing to do then hold onto him for some sort of stability. If you started to come down, when the rest of them were ready for more, you’d let Taehyun hold beneath your chin, coercing your lips apart to give you more to drink, sometimes from between his own lips.

Enchanted by the scent, lost in the memories, you didn’t even hear the bedroom door creak open.

“Babe?” Soobins voice bounced off the judgey walls. Jumping a mile, you whipped yourself around and fell onto your bottom on the floor. With half a smile on his face, you found your husband standing in the doorway holding up a box of children's Tylenol in his hand.

Catching a glimpse of the Dayquil, he took a breath and shut the door behind him, joining you at your side on the floor, tucking his long legs under him. Capping the bottle, you immediately handed it to him.

“Did you give her any of this?” he asked, making sure you were keeping your eyes on him. His tone wasn’t derogatory, but it was strict.

“No, I was just reading the label,” you said. “She can’t have it.”

Soobins nod was slow, and careful. “You know she can’t have this,” he said. “I realized what you had said after you walked away, that’s why I searched for this.” He gave the box a shake. “Jin found it in the back of their medicine cabinet.”

“Good,” you said, taking the Tylenol from him, getting the box open, taking out the bottle and the syringe it came with. “Little Miss needs it.”

Soobin glanced from the bottle in his hand, then to you. “Did you, uh… You didn’t take any of this did you?” His voice was soft, not the slightest bit accusatory.

“No.” Taking out the appropriate amount of medicine for Mina, you avoided Soobins eyes and tended to your daughter. Maneuvering the little ones thumb out of her mouth, and the syringe into it, she screwed her face up and tried to cry. “Oh, it’s gross, I know.”

Soobin put his elbows on the bed and grabbed Mina’s feet, playing with them to distract her. “She’s going to sleep for forever,” he said, then smiled as his daughter noted his presence in the room. “Hi, sweetie, you’re doing so good.” Calm in seconds, Mina focused on her father and swallowed the medicine, throwing her thumb back in her mouth as soon as she was finished. 

“See?” you sneered. “A brat for me, an angel for you.” Thrusting the bottle back in the box, you accidentally tossed it onto Soobins lap. “Our kids hate me.”

“First of all,” Soobin eyed you, laying the box on the bed after he picked it up reluctantly. “She’s sick. She’s going to be a brat, she doesn’t know how to act. Second of all, our kids don’t hate you.” Studying you, you could tell he couldn’t place whether or not your behavior was purely satirical. 

“They don’t listen to me,” you whispered. “They listen to you. I’m there to give them what they need, but they look up to you. You can handle them no matter what decibel they’re at. I can’t.”

After a glance to Mina who had dozed off, Soobin reached for one of your hands. “Where is this coming from?” 

A shrug of your shoulders wasn’t enough to appease him.

“Talk to me.” His voice dropped a couple octaves. Another shrug.

“I just…” Vaguely gesturing around your room, you weren’t sure how to put it into words. How were you supposed to tell your husband that the ghosts of your past plastered in these walls haunted you to your very core?

What were you supposed to tell him? That a piece of you was still yearning to live the life you thought you were supposed to live? That you loved the boy across the hall, but you were both destined to live confined to the chains your mother loved to call family. That if nine years ago, Taehyun hadn’t dropped a lit match on top of your relationship doused in kerosene, everything would be perfect.

“Listen,” Soobin started softly, as if he read your inner turmoil on your forehead. “I know this is hard. I know it’s a lot. You’re doing a great job, being here, dealing with them all. You and Taehyun, you’re speaking, that’s what we wanted.”

“Soob, we’ve said so much,” you whispered, feeling your eyes well up with tears. “And I feel like it hasn’t been enough.”

“Sweetie, I don’t know if it’ll ever be enough.” Dragging his thumb over the back of your hand, Soobin bit his lip. “You guys have years, upon years, and a history so deep I don’t think you and I will ever share.”

“Don’t say that,” you cried, sniffling, crawling into his arms. Sitting in his lap, he wrapped his arms around your middle and placed his chin on your head. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, still somehow level headed as ever. “I knew exactly what I was getting into when I asked that sleepless, hungover girl out on a date. Walking home with Beomgyu? From…”

“Oh god,” you groaned. “His brother's house.” 

“Mm,” Soobin hummed, the memory a happy one for him, clearly. “You were beautiful. I always thought you were. Smudged mascara and all.” He got you to laugh, and for him that was all he needed. “I knew who you were, I knew what you did, I knew who you did, even though everyone else thought it was just Beomgyu.”

You picked your head up, eyebrows as low as they could be. “That is not when you knew.”

Soobin wiped a finger under one of your eyes, fixing the smudged mascara he apparently loved so much. “That is when I knew,” he nodded, letting a finger drag over your lips. “You get this… look in your eye when you see him. Still do.”

“I love you.” His smile grew from your whisper. 

“I know,” he crooned. “I love you, too. So much. And so do our kids.” Pausing to nibble his lip like he was, he bobbed his head and whispered, “Work through what you’ve got to work through this weekend, but don’t make me look like an idiot.”

“Again,” you added, sensing he wanted to tack the word on to the end of his lament. 

Six years ago, amidst what you called your gap year with Soobin, when the two of you took a break to cool off, to see if this was what you both wanted for yourselves. Soobin wanted to get married. You didn’t feel quite ready yet. Soobin knew where your head was stuck, so he unofficially set you free to sort out your thoughts.

It wasn’t a break up, the two of you didn’t part ways completely, but part of you wishes you had so you could’ve avoided the heartbreak surrounding Soobin when you told him what you ran back to, and where you had been. That winter was fuzzy, one you couldn’t piece together if it weren’t for Soobin’s ingenious memory. A few months later you were engaged, and pregnant, and married a month or so after that. You understood Soobin’s heart and his love for you and your family, but deciding to marry you was one thing he did that you couldn’t understand why.

“I wasn’t even going that far,” Soobin smirked. “But, thanks for letting me know I don’t have to worry about that.”

“You don’t,” you said. “I just want us in a good, decent place where we won’t want to rip each other's heads off. We get under each other's skin too easily.”

Soobin took a deep breath and turned his attention to his sleeping daughter. Her hand had slipped out of her mouth and was laying on her belly, her lips parted with steady breaths.

“K-O,” he joked, kissing your forehead. “Shall we go make sure Wreck It Ralph and Fix It Felix are okay downstairs?” 

A smile pricked your lips. “You talkin’ ‘bout our boys, or Joy and Jin?”

Dinner was ready by six. Taehyun’s kids set the table while your twins followed them around carrying the dishes for them, carefully. Joy had no issue handing your five year olds two stacks of her finest, pure white ceramic dishes with the silverware thrown on top.

Once you and Soobin rejoined the chaos, you found Taehyun had beaten you to the kitchen. While the family hustled around the tile, cooking, putting dishes together, pouring drinks, he didn’t spare you glance. He was attentive to his children and his nephews, getting his hands on Wonwoo once to pass him to Jin so Joy could assist Rosie with her cranberry juice in a wine glass. You and Soobin met eyes and held in a laugh. When Sunoo asked if he could have a fancy glass as well, Soobin placed the boy's metallic blue tumbler full of milk in his hands and told him to find his seat at the table.

A long stretch of pine by the windows on the back end of the kitchen, the table was decorated beautifully already, but with the added pizazz of the dishes, candles and steaming food, you had to admit that Joy outdid herself for another year in a row. The warmth from the oven radiated around the room, wrapping your family in a cozy haze, keeping you snug by the frosted glass of the wide paneled windows. The snow hadn’t let up yet, and the kids were giddy.

Jin took his place at the head of the table, Joy beside him and Rosie across from her. Minho hopped into the seat next to his sister, leaving a seat available for you where Sunoo refused to sit. Chan quickly swiped it from you, wanting to spend more time with his cousin, which meant you got to sit on the end, across from Taehyun.

Soobin found himself next to Joy, Sunoo wanting to sit between his father and his uncle. The grown men couldn’t refuse his offer. Noticing who you were across from, Soobin shot you a soft smile and a mere nod of his head. Truthfully, after four kids the two of you didn’t get to sit next to each other anymore anywhere. The highchair at the other end of the table next to you could attest to that. Mina, feeling a bit more up for food now that she’d taken the medicine, was already reaching for the steamed buttery carrots that sat in front of her.

“Good job everybody,” Joy beamed. “Eat, please, eat.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice!” Minho was smug, diving into one of the bowls nearby. Laughter rolled through the room, and everyone followed suit, filling their plates. It didn’t take long for ample chatter to fill the air, mostly the kids asking questions about Christmas and talking about school or the snow. 

“But, I asked for a Playstation,” Minho said between bites, glancing at Chan. “Do you know what that is?” Your big eyed boy watched him in awe, shaking his head. “I’ll show you. I have almost every version, at least of the new ones. Some of them are so old.”

“You don’t have every version, Minnie,” Taehyun chuckled, sitting back in his chair, folding his arms across his broad chest. At the other end of the table Rosie was chatting away with her grandparents, Soobin listening in without presenting his judgment on his face.

“Yes I do, Dad,” Minho’s eyebrows shot into the sky. “Heeseung found me a PS One on eBay! He bought it for me weeks ago, it’s so cool.” Plopping a small scoop of sweet potatoes onto Mina’s plate, you glance at Taehyun who rolled his eyes.

“Oh,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face. “Well, I had no idea.” Chan asked Minho about the Playstation, the two boys were excited and curious. Taehyun drug his glare over toward you and blew a raspberry on his lips. It made Mina giggle.

“Heeseung?” Raising your brow, you smiled when he leaned over to your girl and blew another one, making her laugh even harder.

Taehyun sat back, satisfied his audience was entertained. “Yeah, Heeseung,” he said under his breath. Arms still folded, he shrugged. “Sana’s boyfriend.”

If you had anything in your mouth you would’ve choked, and nearly did on air. “When did that happen?” Dropping your tone to a whisper, you tried your best to keep this conversation between the two of you, unsure of how aware Joy and Jin were of the situation.

“Well, let’s see,” his entire demeanor dropped, a glint of something heavy flashing in his eyes. “They worked together for a few years-” “Sana worked?”

Taehyun smirked. “Focus please.”

“Sorry,” you breathed a laugh, tending to your daughter who whined for her drink.

“They were working together, they both did that buying shit, yanno?” Taehyun started to talk with his hands, waving one around to piece the story together. You both ignored your boys as they informed him he used a bad word. “He was one of her closest work friends, he would be at our house from time to time to hang out, he came to all the kids birthday parties-”

“Oh my god, the stone faced babe with the nose,” you gasped, placing your chin in your hand.

Taehyun waited for you to finish. You felt your cheeks flush after realizing you had cut him off again.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear you say that,” he smiled. “Yes, him.”

“I thought he was gay.” You both spoke at once, breaking into crass laughter that triggered the table to look your way.

Joy, chewing away behind a promising grin, with bright eyes said, “See? I knew you two would be fine.”

Jin, focused on his plate, frowned. “Were we not fine?” Looking down to the other end of the table, you and Taehyun sat up straight like you’d been caught. Taehyun’s father waited for an answer, shifting his gaze between his wife and his family. “What’d I miss?”

Soobin lowered his chin and leaned into Sunoo, whispering something to him about his dinner. The five year old pouted, waving away the meat on his plate. Pressing a kiss to his son's head, Soobin took it off his plate and put it on his own.

“You didn’t miss anything,” Taehyun brushed the matter off, picking up his fork to shovel food into his mouth, hoping that’d get you two out of the hot seat. Your mother snickered, using the cloth napkin that was at every setting to wipe the corners of her mouth.

“You two are funny,” she said. Soobins eyes flickered up toward you, then quickly shot back to his son. Rosie was leaning forward, her elbows on the table, enthralled with what was about to ensue. A drama lover, just like her mother. “My love,” Joy said, turning to her husband. “They weren’t speaking for two years. I had just found out today, when the Choi’s arrived.”

“The Choi’s,” you scoffed, shaking your head. Leave it to her to address your family like you were all foreign visitors. “Mom, we can let it go. It’s not a big deal.”

“The hell it isn’t!?” Joy dropped her fork.

“Bad word!” Chan and Sunoo looked to Soobin for help, but all he could do was shake his head and quiet them down.

“Joy, really,” Taehyun added weight to his words.

“Joy this, Mom that,” she appeared ready to leap out of her chair. “Look at us! All of us here. A family.” 

You snuck a glance at Taehyun who had his eyes glued to Joy. He seemed like he was sinking backward into his chair, hoping it would crumble or somehow swallow him whole, anything to get him out of this room. 

“This is how it should be. Always.” Joy whipped her head toward the two of you. “You’re both so far away, I’m grateful we were able to spend this weekend together, aren’t you?” Nods of everyone's heads was enough to encourage her to go on. “I miss this, I miss you both being here, running around upstairs. Hearing you laugh, hearing you talk to each other… It feels like it was.”

Jin reached for his wife’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “We feel whole having you all here.” He made it a point to look at each of you. With another glance to Taehyun you watched him roll his eyes.

“To find out about you not talking, not seeing each other… That hurt,” Joy wore the apparent pain on her face. It made you want to laugh. “You were best friends. Every waking moment was spent together, I can’t imagine anything that would break that up.”

Swapping a glance now, Taehyun finally looking at you, you shared a deep breath.

“What would they do together?” Rosie asked, chiming in to take the attention. Joy and Jin laughed.

“Oh, they’d do everything, Rosie,” Jin smiled. “They went everywhere together, they had the same friends. You know the cabinet full of movies we keep underneath the television?” The twelve year old nodded. “It’s theirs, they collected those together and would watch them all the time.”

“We would wake up some mornings and they’d be fast asleep on the couches together,” Joy smiled at Jin, then turned to her granddaughter. “They would spend weekends in the living room with their friends if they were too bored to stay upstairs.”

Jin laughed to himself, shooting a finger in the air. “I can remember getting up for work one morning, and there were four of them knocked out at the kitchen table. Back when we had the booth seat that wrapped around the circular table?”

“Yes!” Joy clapped her hands together, like the memory was near and dear to heart, like it didn’t have you cringing and wishing they’d both shut up. “I still have that picture! They had to be around nineteen,” Joy looked at Rosie, “Our house was clearly the cool house.”

Taehyun forced air through his lips and shook his head, and you’d agree if you weren’t paralyzed in place. Thankfully your boys were occupied between Soobin and Minho, not letting any of these memories sink in.

Our house was clearly the cool house.

You wanted to scream back in her face that her house was the house with little to no supervision, and that was why you and your friends would come here to get shitfaced again and again. Her cool house taught you how to mix drinks before you were of legal age, pummeling you headfirst into blurry years you can hardly put together. Their cool house and their happy memories of you two asleep in the living room after a night of movies you’d hardly watch, the two of them completely unaware that you and Taehyun would be-

“Oh!” Joy exclaimed, knocking you from your spiraling thoughts. Her earrings swung vigorously at her ears as she bounced around, excited.

“Oh!” Mina copied her. The room was buzzing with energy, Taehyun’s kids wound up from listening to these stories, and your children messing with the food on their plates. Soobin and Taehyun were stiff, as were you, pointed gazes beckoning Joy to shut the fuck up.

“Videos!” Joy cheered, slamming her hands onto the wood edge of the table. She looked up and down the table. “We have videos,” she said, pointing to you and Taehyun, “Of you two!” Turning to Jin she gripped his wrist and shook it around. “We’ll do that thing on the TV, connect your phone to it.” Taehyun shot you a look, brows slightly concerned. Joy’s body whirled back around. “How fun to show the kids! Oh, I’ve always wanted to be this kind of family during the holidays.”

Rosie beamed with Joy, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen. She truly was a beautiful little girl underneath her wanna-be old attitude. “They did this on Fuller House at Christmas.”

Joy's hands clapped together once more, her expression falling smug. “Oh my god,” she said, looking straight at you. “We’re gonna be a Full House family.”

Stomach churning, worried about what was in those videos that probably haven’t been looked at… ever, you sat back in your chair as Joy and Rosie fell into a discussion over the difference between Full House and Fuller House. Chan asked Minho about the band on his hoodie, and Soobin listened to Sunoo talk about Fuller House too, the five year old pretending as if he knew what that was.

Watching them all move on, even Taehyun who helped Minho out with the pronunciation of the band he wore, you crossed your arms and gulped. How developed were five year old brains? Were they about to witness footage of you in your early twenties that would permanently alter how they saw their mother? Would there be something within the videos that was supposed to stay hidden, or in the past? What would it do to Soobin, to watch you at your worst, his wife, the mother of his children?

Underneath the table something tapped your ankle. Glancing to Chan, who probably kicked you, you found the boy sitting on his feet, facing his cousin. Something tapped your ankle again, then two feet encased it, pulling it away from you. Shooting a look at Taehyun, he was focused on his son. No one was paying attention, so you took a peek.

It was Taehyun, his legs quickly wrapping around your own, his smile growing as you looked back up at him. His focus was on his son thankfully, he wouldn’t get to watch your eyes bug out of your head.

“They started in the eighties technically,” Taehyun said to the boys, shamelessly rubbing his legs on yours. “Grohl didn’t join until the nineties.”

“Who is Grohl?” Chan asked, eyes narrowed and focused. Taehyun shifted his legs, crossing one over the other, his foot nudging your thigh shamelessly. “Dave Grohl,” he smiled. “He played the drums for Nirvana. He had long hair down to here,” Taehyun gestured at the length below his shoulders, “And he was so cool.” His foot traveled further up your thigh, you fought away the chill that ran down your spine.

“Wait, he was on your wall upstairs,” Chan said.

“He sure is,” Taehyun nodded. “They all are.”

Chan leaned over the table, little elbows holding him up. “Uncle Taehyun, you're so cool, too. Like Grohl.”

Taehyun flashed his grin, looking at you for a few seconds. “Yeah, I am.”

“On those videos we’ll get to see how cool he really was, right Dad?” Minho was smiling, looking from his cousin to his father, who hadn’t stopped looking at you. His gaze shifted to something of slight concern, both of you knowing what the other was thinking.

Taehyun gave his son a slight shrug. “Maybe we will.” He shot Minho a smile, and when the two cousins started to eat and talk amongst one another, the smile fell and the grip he had around your leg loosened.

“I don’t wanna watch ‘em either,” you mumbled. Taehyun shook his head, a miniscule moment only for you to see before he sighed. And it wasn’t brought up again.

“Cell phones are for big kids.”

Chan wasn’t impressed. Tiny fingers pressing into the marble of the kitchen counter, dangling backward on his heels, the five year old whined and whined. Drying the last dish that Soobin handed to you over his shoulder, he shot a look to his son, one that whipped him into shape.

“You can play with Minho’s for now, okay?” Giving him a smile, you placed the dish in a cabinet and tossed the towel onto the counter by the sink. The little one murmured his agreement, hurrying off to follow the other kids' shouts.

Soobin, after folding the towel you threw, slid his arms around your shoulders from behind, pressing a kiss to your neck, one that sent a chill down your spine. Grabbing onto his hands you peered toward him and smirked.

“Let’s skip the movies,” you whispered in the empty kitchen.

Soobin’s grin widened. “Oh, no, I think I want to see this.” With a groan you spun around in his arms, his hands falling to your waist. Cupping his cheeks, you pouted.

“Trust me, you don’t.”

“Darling, I know,” his tone was soft, gentle. “I already know what to expect. After everything, don’t you think if I had a problem I wouldn’t be standing here?”

Averting your gaze to the floor, you shrugged. “I just don’t know what’s gonna be on them, that’s all. I never really remember them having cameras around.”

Soobin took a finger to your chin, tipping it upward for him to kiss the tip of your nose. “It’s okay. Surely if it was anything too bad Jin or Joy wouldn’t show it. Or, they would’ve said something to you by now.”

“Joy’s been acting weirder than usual,” you said, dragging your thumbs along your husband's cheeks. “She’s always inappropriate, and has no filter, but… I dunno. What if watching this stuff makes her realize her daughter was fucked up almost everyday of her life since, like, high school. What if they caught us doing the dr-”

Feet scurrying in the hall stole your attention, both you and Soobin turning to the doorway in record time.

“Who was that?” You breathed. Soobins grip tightened around your waist. Shooting him a look, a wide eyed, worried look, he returned an unknowing one back. “Shit,” you sighed.

“Bad word,” Soobin whispered. For a few seconds neither of you moved, and then it was all too funny, both of you breaking out into giggles that echoed in the empty air. “Let’s go find some seats, if the little’s didn't take them all. I’ll grab the baby, I’ll meet you there.”

Wonwoo, snug in his carseat, had been snoozing on and off throughout dinner. Soobin tucked his arm beneath the handle and hoisted the carrier up, following you into the living room through an archway that was halfway down the hall toward the opposite staircase.

Inside the glorious room with the giant screen, expensive sound system and cozy grey, velvety couches, the boys had all piled up on the loveseat, the twins on either side of Minho. All three of them had kicked off their shoes, the two pairs of dress shoes flung sporadically amongst Minho’s sneakers.  Rosie was in the armchair that matched the other furniture, her legs crossed delicately while she tapped away at her phone screen. 

A large couch lay between the loveseat and the chair, a couch you had spent many nights on. Out of all rooms to redecorate and change again and again, you really had hopes that Joy would’ve chosen this one. The deep bluish-grey of the walls that reflected the furniture had your stomach rolling. While warm and cozy to others, this room made your blood run cold.

A square glass coffee table was in the center of the room. A vase of Christmas flowers spilled out on top of it, and books and magazines circled the sparkling vase. Crystalized, glass coasters were strategically placed over the top, with matching glasses at the bar behind the sitting area. You didn’t even need to look, you could tell exactly where each bottle of liquor lived. It never changed. For twenty years, it’s been the same. You did glance toward it as you walked in the room, and Soobin took note.

Jin and Joy stood by the television, mumbling to one another, trying to figure out how to connect their phones to the screen. The point of Joy's heels dug into the plushness of the rug beneath her feet that extended throughout the room, all the way to the bar. On her tush, staring up at her grandparents working, sat Mina. She was barefoot as well, teetering around in her socks. When she caught wind you had walked into the room she whined and started to crawl toward you.

“No walkin’, huh?” Soobin laughed from behind you as you scooped her up into your arms. “Medicine must be wearing off,” you said, kissing her cheek. Weaving around the furniture you chose to sit on the edge of the couch, letting Soobin plop down beside you, setting Wonwoo on the floor next to his feet. The infant had just opened his eyes, blinking a few times at his father.

“Hey, Soobin,” Jin began, turning around. He didn’t look up from his phone. “Think you can help me figure this out? I thought I knew how…”

“Of course,” your husband smiled, on his feet in an instant. 

Wonwoo’s face scrunched up like it would before he would cry, and sure enough, he started to cry. Mina expressed her shock on her face, looking at you, then her baby brother. “Baby cry,” she said, pointing toward him. Shifting Mina to the side, you sat her down on the couch cushion she was nearly swallowed up by, then reached forward for Wonwoo.

“Get him, Mama,” Mina said quietly. The two year old was always intrigued when it came to the baby. Curious as ever, her attentive eyes studied you as you carefully placed him in your hands and lifted him out of the carseat, kissing his cheek before cradling him in your arms.

“Shut it up,” Rosie groaned from somewhere in the room you didn’t care to acknowledge, but could feel the heat in Soobin’s eyes as he shot her a glare.

Mina leaned over your arms, holding onto your bicep with all of her might, watching you bounce Wonwoo to calm him down. Her pink cheeks and glassy eyes were full of adoration. “Shhh, baby. Shhh.” Wonwoo sucked in a deep breath, quieting down at the sound of his sister's voice.

“Good job, Meens,” you gasped, smiling at her. “Say it again, tell him he’s okay.”

A wail about to escape the infant was stolen by his sister's caring words. “S’okay, baby. Shhh.” As the crying came to an end, Mina gasped and looked to you for approval. Putting one of your arms around her, you tucked her into your side and kissed her head. “Best big sister,” you said.

“Boooring,” Rosie sang. Looking over at her, she was looking back at you. Her phone was on her lap, and her chin was in her hand. For a second she appeared as her mother, sharp eyes, pursed lips and pointed cheekbones. Since she was born it was hard to believe Taehyun had a part in her procreation. For years you had a quiet, delusional, but harmless joke that Sana made Rose herself to trap Taehyun with her. Anything to ease the pain from the night you found out about her. Milliseconds away from opening your mouth, unsure of what to say to the twelve year old you used to blame for ruining your life, her father hustling into the living room took the heat off of you.

“Did I miss it?” Breathless, he glanced about the room. Finding that nothing had even happened yet, he sighed and trudged his way across the carpet.

“Daddy!” Rosie shouted, throwing her arms into the air. Taehyun beamed, a light pouring out of his heart like it was the first time the child had ever said the word. It made you wonder how often she showed him love. This was the first time today you’ve seen her give him any sort of attention.

Taehyun, holding his own arms out, rushed for his daughter and caught her in his arms as she leapt out of the chair and fell into them. She squeezed him tight, pressing her cheek into his chest with her eyes shut.  The smile on his face made your heart flutter. Holding his firstborn, his little girl, the one who stole his heart the second she was born… The only one he’d love more than any other girl who walked into his life. It made you smile, truly. When Taehyun was with his kids, he was happy. And whenever you witnessed moments like this, it healed something broken within yourself.

Sure, that little girl he held and sat down on his lap in the oversized armchair wrecked everything between you two twelve years ago. No, he didn’t care that it wrecked everything you and him once shared. But, he was happy. And you’d do anything, give up anything, to see him happy. Even if it meant watching him walk away after you begged him not go through with fathering the spawn of Satan.

“Here we go!” Jin cheered as the television flashed and the scene of two kitchen remodel’s ago popped up on the screen. The boys' necks snapped to the TV, excitement buzzing off of them as they bounced around to get even more comfortable. Chan had an arm wrapped around Minho’s. “Okay everybody! Thanks to my amazing son-in-law,” Soobin smirked and shook his head as he hurried to sit down beside you, Mina getting squished between your bodies, “We get to see some home movies.” The kids erupted in cheers. Well, the boy's couch did. Rosie just nibbled one of her nails.

“Oh, I am SO ready,” Joy shook her shoulders. “I’ll get the lights, everyone has a seat?” Your mother scrambled for a remote on top of the shelf below the television, clicking it toward the ceiling to shut off the lights built into the top of the room. “If we’re lucky maybe we’ll get to see some of you guys as babies!” She gestured to all the kids as she worked her way through the room to sit on the other side of Soobin, Jin joining her soon after with his phone in hand.

The boys whispered quiet things to one another, and Rosie said something to Taehyun. Soobin gave you a sideways smile, slipping an arm around your back, over your shoulders.

And the clips, shuffled throughout the years, began.

~ august 18th, 2010 ~

Windows open in the house, a refreshing summer breeze flowing through the white curtains that hung to the floor, everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect. The sun had set about an hour ago, leaving everything washed in a deep orange haze that would linger for another twenty minutes.

Dressed in soft checkered high waisted shorts with a white cropped tee on top, one that you stole from Taehyun and cut in half, your bare feet slammed on the wood of the second floor as you darted from your bedroom toward the stairs to the kitchen. Laughter flooded the air, coming out of you, straight from your heart. Gripping the railing, you’re seconds away from leaping down to the dual level landing, but skinny arms wrap around your waist, yanking you backward, lifting you in the air. Screeching, you curl your knees into your chest and accept defeat, throwing your head backward onto his shoulder.

“Lemme go!” Your cackles were meaningless, and he wouldn’t listen anyway. Stumbling backward into one of the walls you’re certain his elbow almost went through, he laughed and put you down on your feet, making sure you didn’t fall over. “Gyu is here!”

“I don-care,” Taehyun breathed, whirling you around in his arms to press you against the wall, caging you in with his hands planted on the drywall. His smile was wide, bright, and blurry. “How dare you leave m’like this.” Glancing down between the two of you, you followed his eyes and almost snorted, throwing your head back again, this time against the wall.

Heart pounding in your chest, skin ablaze with warmth, veins pumping, extremely intoxicated (both of you), you throw your arms around his shoulders and grip his neck, clawing with your nails, gently. Taehyun sucked a harsh breath between his teeth and let his forehead fall onto yours, his smile still evident on his glistening lips as your hands traveled down his body, over his t-shirt, slipping within the waistband of his sweats where he was bare, wearing nothing beneath them.

“Slut,” you muttered within the shared air, making both of you laugh.

“Mm, mhm, hang on,” he mumbled, sliding a hand beneath your shirt, purposely dragging his fingers lightly up your side to tickle you before he grabs a handful of one of your breasts, where you were bare, wearing nothing beneath the fabric. His smile fell into a smirk when he watched you gasp. “Slut,” he whispered, tone incredulously harsh.

“Stop, Gyu’s here,” you said within a deep breath, feeling your knees buckle.

Taehyun’s brows plummeted. “You know he don’t care. Once he takes what we got he’ll be on another planet, won’t even be able to tell if you’re on top or if he’s takin’ you from the back-”

“M-my moms here.” Your hushed tone and blushed cheeks had his ego blooming with utmost power, and you knew it too. 

“Um,” he chuckled. “Never stopped us before, Baby.”

“You two up there?” Joy’s voice carried up the stairs, making the two of you leap a part, taking your hands back to yourselves. “Beomgyu is here!”

Taehyun looked you up and down, licked his lips and shook his head. “We’ll be right down!” 

With a deep breath you glanced down to his sweats, where he was still hard, eager for you. Shooting him a quick wink, he groaned from his chest, letting out a laugh after you whispered, “Slut,” and hurried down the stairs.

Balancing once your feet hit the floor, you reared to the side and almost knocked into a wall full of pictures, but a pair of strong hands caught your shoulders before you went down. Looking up at the boy almost a foot taller than you, his shoulder length, shaggy dark hair made you grin. Skin pale and cheeks rosy, Beomgyu was stunning, and pure boy, from his smile to his lanky, defined build.

“Start without me?” he grumbled, smoothing out your hair. “Where’s the loser?”

“I can hear you!” Taehyun shouted from upstairs, getting a giggle out of you.

Beomgyu shot you a lazy smile and shook his head. “You guys are so stupid.”

“I’m hungry, actu-lly,” you whispered, leaning into him on your tiptoes, throwing your arms around his shoulders to hug him. 

Beomgyu laughed, wrapping an arm around your back, pressing his hand into your bare skin. Turning around so he could guide you into the kitchen, from over your shoulder he spots Joy, at the counter messing with a new iPhone, holding it up toward the two of you.

Standing on the top of Beomgyu’s shoes, letting him waltz you around the kitchen, you hear your mother laugh and tip your head backward, noticing she was filming you and Beomgyu.

“Mommy!” you shouted into the air, laughing like crazy.

“Oh, you guys are so cute,” Joy smiled, laughing with you, making sure the camera was catching everything. “Where’s Taehyun? He finally let you two spend some time alone?”

Scrunching your face up in disgust, you stood up straight to face Beomgyu, finding him making the same exact face. Laughter corrupted you, going completely limp in his arms. 

Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and Taehyun appeared through the archway, his hair pushed back, his skin alive with what looked like a gleam of sweat. Rushing toward you and Beomgyu, Taehyun grabbed a fistful of his friend's hair and yanked his head back, clamping his teeth on the base of his neck, making the boy yelp. Watching Taehyun as he parted from him, the indentation left on his skin turned your stomach, made you want to drag your tongue over the marks.

“Gyu’s mine, Joy,” Taehyun teased, releasing him. He jabbed a finger into your side, laughing as you shrieked, then approached Joy, putting his face up in the camera. “How do I look? Good, probably.” He winked at the camera and laughed, looking up at Joy who giggled behind the phone.

Adjusting your arms around Beomgyu’s shoulders, you hike your legs up his side and wrap them around his waist, going full koala on his front. He let out a gasp and caught you, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as you nuzzled your face into his neck.

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” he whispered to you, still laughing, the camera catching none of his words.

“Um!” You half shouted, taking the attention. “What if Gyu is MINE!”

Meeting Taehyun’s eyes you could see the jealousy that immediately pooled within them. You knew he had to keep his cool in front of Joy, and her camera. Normally you wouldn’t be pulling stunts like this, but you were high. You were high and needy for him, you couldn’t let this opportunity go.

“Uh oh, Taehyun, you’ve got competition,” Joy played right along, fueling the intoxicated fire.

“You have three seconds,” Taehyun said, his hardened glare hitting you right where you wanted it to. “One…” Laying your head on Beomgyu’s shoulder, you hummed and smiled, letting your eyes close.

“Two!” 

Beomgyu bounced you in his arms, laughing, trying to get you to move, but you wouldn’t budge.

“What happens on three!” Joy was ecstatic, beaming behind her phone, her eyes darting between all three of you.

“Yeah, what happens on three,” you teased, shooting Taehyun the calmest smile you could possibly conjure.

“Wouldn’t you love to find out,” he gritted his teeth. “Three!”

A scream came out of you as Taehyun darted toward you and Beomgyu, his arms grabbing your waist, pulling you off of your friend. Beomgyu stumbled back, ready to catch you both if you fell over, his laughter bouncing through the air along with your own. Taehyun put you on your feet, spun you around, then crouched down and threw you over his shoulder.

“Tae!” Reaching your arms out to Beomgyu, you kicked your feet and almost kicked him in the face. “Gyu, help me,” you giggled.

Taehyun turned to him and shot him a wicked grin. “Let’s go.” Looking at Joy, and her camera, he winked again. “See ya, Joy.”

“Bye,” Joy smiled. “Good luck, Beomgyu.” The boy gave her his charming smile, and followed you and Taehyun upstairs, out of the sight of the camera, and your mother.

“What happened on three?” Minho inquired, looking out amongst the group as the video ended.

Unbelievable that was the first video to play. You can vaguely recall what had happened before you walked into the kitchen attached to Beomgyu, and you can barely put anything together as to what happened after. 

You have no idea what happened on three. Taehyun had no idea what happened on three, you were sure of it. After he ran up the stairs with you hanging over his shoulder like a helpless ragdoll, you’re pretty sure the three of you drank until you passed out in your bed. Waking up, you can remember having an arm thrown over Beomgyu’s bare waist where he laid on his back with his arms over his head, upside down on the covers. Taehyun was the only one laying properly, fully clothed, his legs tangled with your own.

“How old were you guys?” Rosie asked, smiling at her father.

“Nineteen,” Taehyun said quietly, his focus on the TV.

Joy and Jin were swiping through the phone, too occupied to pay attention to anything anyone was saying.

“How did you pick up my mom like that?” Sunoo asked Taehyun, eyes wide. His uncle gave him a soft smile.

“I’m pretty strong,” he shrugged.

“Uncle Beomgyu was cute,” Rosie giggled, nibbling on one of her fingernails. Taehyun simply laughed and shook his head. The twelve year old turned to look at you, and you stiffened beneath her curious gaze. “You guys were dating?”

“No,” you answered fast. A little too fast. “He was one of my best friends, one of… our best friends.” Taehyun got the courage to look at you, both of you sharing the smallest, most innocent look just as Joy clicked play on the next video.

~ june 3rd, 2012 ~

 The sun beating down on your bare back was anything but comforting. Standing in your backyard with a crystal champagne glass in your hand on the edge of the commotion, you eyed the guests waltzing about in their dress clothes with a grimace.

Atop the balcony of the porch, pink streamers and pink balloons hung down, keeping the place on theme. Pink plates, pink tablecloths, pink cutlery, pink candy, pink napkins, pink, pink, pink… You were sick of it. All the pink.

Women and men, most you didn’t even know, all paraded around with smiles and witty comments of grace for you and your family and the beautiful home that you have.

Oh, it’s just glorious isn’t it?

Yes, thank you my mother knows how to spend that man's money, that’s for certain. 

He hee! 

Ha ha!

It meant nothing. This whole event, it meant nothing. It felt like some sort of glorified apology. 

We’re so sorry my son knocked up your daughter, here, have a disgustingly expensive baby shower, on us!

Downing the rest of your glass, you placed it on the tray of a waiter who came close to you and took two full ones off of it. Knocking back one of them real quick, you returned it to where it came from and decided to nurse the other.

Messing with one of the thin straps of your dress that dug into your shoulder, a floor length floral thing that Joy picked out for you a couple weeks ago, you groaned and cracked your neck, rubbing the muscle with a sigh. Across the party you spot your mother doting on the guest of honor, Sana, wearing a baby pink strapless gown. Her black hair was pinned up in a bun with a pink ribbon tied around it. 

She was glowing, and you hated it.

Her belly was round as ever, almost one month away from popping. It was the only thing on her to change throughout this pregnancy, not that you were keeping track. She kept her slender figure, her smooth skin, her bright eyes, her luxurious hair… It was wretched. Maybe she was just nineteen, and that was it. You couldn’t believe your family, or hers, was allowing any of this to happen.

Jin hovered around her with his camera, making sure he captured every detail about this momentous day, this memorable occasion. His first grandchild, a baby girl that you knew he would love no matter where she came from. He and Joy were either in shock, or they truly were the ditzy idiots they made themselves out to be.

You didn’t think you’d be able to drink enough champagne to make it through.

Pressing your glossed lips to the rim of your glass, you let the drink spill into you, finishing it quick, actively pursuing another. Hurrying into the house, slamming the sliding door shut, the mouth watering smell of food and baked goods hit you, drawing you toward the kitchen. Heels clicking on the floor, you walked as fast as the torture devices could take you until you were kicking them off, picking them up by the strap, letting them dangle between two fingers. Stepping into the doorway of the kitchen, completely new and redone, everything a sparkling shade of blue, you find, like, eleven women standing around talking with their noses in the air. You didn’t know a soul.

Spinning around on your toes, desperate for an escape, you rushed into the living room where some of the guys were hiding out with a couple of random kids. Beelining for the bar in the back of the room, you drop your heels on top of it, push by two guys standing nearby and bring yourself behind it. Grabbing onto the neck of a tequila bottle, you acquire a shot glass from one of the shelves and fill it up to the top. It went down with ease, you were already filling it up for a second when a hand took the bottle from you, letting some of the alcohol spill onto the bartop.

“Alright,” Beomgyu said, holding the tequila hostage, watching you take the second shot. His gaze lingered on your lips, even after you ran your tongue over them. Once you slammed the glass on the counter and audibly expressed your relief with a happy sigh, he narrowed his eyes. “Do you want me to take you somewhere else? You know Jungkook said you could stay at his house while… this happened.”

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, your lipgloss smearing across the skin, you rolled your eyes. “Your brother doesn’t care that much.”

Beomgyu nodded profusely. “Yes, he does. You know he does.”

“Stupid, it’s stupid,” you muttered, reaching for the bottle he held away from you. “Lemme have it.”

“If you’re gonna get plastered, that’s stupid,” Beomgyu said. “It won’t make him talk to you.”

A guttural laugh escaped you. “You think I want him to talk to me?!”

The boy with long, shaggy hair that framed his face spectacularly softened his eyes. “Let me take you to Jungkook’s, please.” He planted both hands on the bar, leaving the tequila unattended.

Leaning forward, placing your elbows on the counter, you pretended to debate his offer, then snagged the bottle back instead, taking a swig straight from the bottle. Beomgyu sighed, heavily, then circled the bar to stand beside you. He reached up for his own glass and stole the bottle from you, filling both the shot glasses.

“Not gonna let you do it alone,” he said, handing you your little glass. Holding his in the air, you clinked them together and took the shot, smiling with Beomgyu. “Besides… he’s high, anyway.”

Tilting your head side to side, you laughed. “He’s always high.”

Beomgyu refilled the glasses and watched you knock it back. Picking his up, he studied it, then studied you. Big, beautiful brown eyes took you in, swallowed you whole. “I’m sorry,” he said.

You brushed it off with a shrug. “Sorry for what, Gyu.”

He gulped, shaking his head slightly before he took his shot, placing it down with a knock on the bar. “All of this,” he gestured around at all of the pink. Beomgyu never discussed what went on between you and Taehyun. Ever. It was rare. “I just… I’m sorry.”

Taking a deep breath, you wallowed in his sorrow for a moment. “He’s stupid,” you muttered, looking down at the shot glasses, messing with them to keep your hands busy. Feeling a buzz already, you couldn’t stop the words from coming out, or the tears. “Gyu, why did he do this?”

A heavy breath fell from his lips as he lifted a hand to brush away a tear. “I dunno.”

“I mean, she… she came out of nowhere, and then this happens?!” you waved your arms around, Beomgyu nodding along, encouraging you to keep going. “She’s a kid, he’s a kid, we’re… We’re kids. He’s throwing the rest of his life away, doesn’t he know that?! Sana’s a total bitch, what the hell does he see in her anyway!?”

“You got me there,” he said, pouring two more shots, one he took fast.

“I mean, like, do you see it? What’s the appeal? Do you think she’s hot?” Taking your shot you missed the way he totally checked you out.

“He totally downgraded,” he mumbled, pouring two more shots.

“Please,” you snickered, following suit, drinking the alcohol. A hiccup came out of you, one that made Beomgyu laugh. “Sana’s gorgeous and you know it.”

“Yeah, but she’s not you,” he said, perking a brow. You took a step closer to him, laying an arm on his shoulder, hooking it around his neck.

Narrowing your eyes, you smirked. “You just mean he won’t share her.” 

Beomgyu’s eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue darting out between his. “I’m gonna miss this.” 

“Just ‘cause he and I are done doesn’t mean we have to be,” you whispered, and he shook his head.

“You’re his,” he said. “Always have been, always will be. I don’t wanna get Yeonjun’d, I’ll keep my distance.”

Digging your fingers into his shoulder, you took one last long, good look at him. And he did the same to you. The alcohol held your heart together for the moment, but you knew once it wore off you’d be falling head first into the most debilitating heartbreak you’ve ever felt. No one had a clue what was supposed to happen after this day was over. 

“You’re still my friend, Gyu.”

He raised a hand and placed it on top of yours, giving it a decent squeeze. “Always have been, always will be.”

Raising yourself on your tiptoes, you pressed your lips to his cheek and gave him a swift kiss before you stumbled back out to the backyard, making sure to grab the bottle of tequila first. People were still swarming, how long were baby showers supposed to be? Doing your best to stand up straight, you wandered across the patio without being noticed by a soul, and planted yourself in a seat underneath the shade of the balcony.

Twisting the top off of the bottle you took a long swig, falling back against the cushion with a giggle as you swallowed. You watched eagerly as girls who were clearly friends of Sana, dressed in tight dresses and high strappy heels, talked with one another and sipped on their champagne delicately, showing off their accessories and touching up their makeup as they spoke. They took tiny bites of their food and judged others around them with their eyes, you could feel it.

Another drink from the bottle. You were finally at the point where it felt like nothing mattered. Jin was still parading around with his phone, catching footage of people saying kind words to the baby and the mom to be. Overhearing most of it, it made you laugh, acquiring a judgemental glare from one of Sana’s minions. Not one person had a word to say about Taehyun. It was all Sana, Sana, Sana, and baby, baby, baby.

“Stupid,” you mumbled, sinking down on the cushion.

You were so focused on the others you didn’t recognize the body that approached you, snatching the tequila from you, dropping your heels on your lap. Jumping, startled as they hit your thighs, you sprung up and nearly toppled forward. 

“Hey!” you shouted, looking up at the blurry figure. His dark hair and black button down made you laugh, loud. “No fucking way.”

“Shut up,” he muttered. “Pull yourself together.”

Gasping, you pressed a hand to your chest. “Pull myself together? Last I heard you were poppin’ molly at your own baby shower.” Taehyun groaned, crouching down to level with you. “Yanno, Gyu said this wouldn’t make you talk to me, who’s gonna tell him that he was wrong?”

“Tell him yourself,” Taehyun nodded to Beomgyu walking along the edge of the patio, Sana’s group of friends shamelessly checking him out. He pretended not to see them. It was laughable.

“GYU!” you shouted, catching his attention. He already knew, he sent you the smallest smile. Sana’s friends glared at you again. “He doesn’t want any of you, don’t even try,” you waved towards them, turning back to Taehyun who had buried his head in his hand.

“Baby, please,” he whispered.

“Baby?” you scoffed. “Your girlfriend over there is the one with the baby, Tae. Did you already forget? I know it happened so fast, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Stop,” he spoke through his teeth, looking up at you with a vengeance. “Please, stop. Don’t make this worse than it already is.”

Catching you off guard, you slid back down in the chair and furrowed your brows. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyun, tired, intoxicated, wobbly on his feet, shook his head and sighed. “I dunno what I’m doing,” he said under his breath.

Lifting a hand, you poked his nose. “Then… you shouldn’t have done it.”

He shot to his feet, glaring down at you. Your body reacted, reaching up for him.

“No,” you whispered. “Come back.”

Taehyun scanned the backyard. “No,” he said, taking one more look at you before joining Sana and her parents where they were sitting with Jin and Joy.

A tear slipped down your cheek, you think. Taehyun smiled, or pretended to smile, while he spoke to her parents. He looked like he was saying nice things to Sana, probably asking her if she was alright, showering her with attention. Attention that used to be yours. It was attention he was allowed to give her in front of these people. That attention was never allowed to be yours. It wasn’t ever meant for you. It will never belong to you. It will never, ever be yours.

You were definitely crying now, alone on the porch in the corner while your family and the guests enjoyed this beautiful day and this beautiful celebration. There was another life coming into the world, a life that was half of the boy you loved, a life he decided to have with someone else. It felt like death. It all felt like hell, a burning, god awful hell.

“Come on,” Beomgyu said to you. Turning toward him, all you could do was reach your arms up for him to take, pulling you to your feet, letting your shoes topple to the floor. “We’re going to my brothers.”

“But, they-”

He brought you into the house. “He told me to take you to my brothers.” Facing you, he wiped away your tears and frowned. “You’re too pretty to cry, stop it.” The hallway you were in was quiet, secluded. Sucking in a deep breath, you gazed at him and pouted. 

“You can’t drive, you-”

“Jungkook’s outside,” he breathed.

Nodding, you slowly wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close, giving him a real hug, heart to heart. “I love you, Gyu,” you mumbled into his neck.

The boy sighed, and held you tighter. “I love you, too.”

“No way, I was in Mom’s belly!” Rosie almost leapt off of Taehyun’s lap. The entire video came from Jin, he documented the entire day, the entire shower, every gorgeous detail that you now were able to appreciate. A hole in your heart remained, but it was so long ago now that the cut didn’t burn as deep.

Joy shared her excitement with Rosie, and Minho chimed in with some questions, asking who different people were that only his father and grandparents were able to answer.

You thanked the good lord, or whoever was up there, that you were barely in any of the shots. You remembered that day very differently than everyone else. Soobin even whispered to you how insufferable the day must’ve been, and that he was glad you weren’t together yet, or else he would’ve had to put up with that shit. And yes, he said shit.

“You were with Uncle Beomgyu again,” Rosie said to you, twisting on her fathers lap completely.

Glancing at Soobin who focused his eyes on the baby in your arms, you took a breath and looked at your niece. “Yeah, I was.”

Rosie’s face screwed up, confused. “I thought you guys didn’t date.”

“We didn’t,” you shook your head, tone going a bit stern.

The girl grilled you with her eyes. “Sure seems like you did.”

The room fell into a quiet chatter while Joy and Jin searched for another video. Your boys were talking to Minho, asking him questions about his mom that was just in the video, and Rosie whispered things to Taehyun you were dying to hear.

Soobin, as if he could feel your blood beginning to boil, leaned over and kissed your cheek. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, avoiding his gaze. “Just wasn’t expecting to have to dodge him either.”

Soobin watched you for a few seconds more, then bobbed his head.

Beomgyu hung around Taehyun more than he hung around with you. He showed up to Taehyun’s kids birthdays, not yours. Beomgyu accepted offers to stay at Taehyun’s for long weekends, or to watch sports games, or to go to concerts, or to just simply hang out in his basement. And Beomgyu reciprocated the invites. You never got a single one.

“Think this hurts more than it should,” you whispered, looking at your husband. Soobin, energy doing a complete one eighty, turned to your parents.

“How many more you guys got?” he asked with persistence. “My baby’s need to get to bed. Wonwoo’s on a schedule.”

Joy shoved Soobin by his shoulder and clicked her tongue. “Strict Soobin, come on.” Soobin smiled. He didn’t mind being the bad guy when it came to you. “Let us just watch one more, and I swear we’ll be done. We’re all having so much fun though, aren’t we?” The boys agreed with her, as did Rosie. Taehyun was silent, and so were you.

“One more,” Soobin said.

~ april 1st, 2009 ~

“Ready!?” Taehyun shouted to the crowd around your kitchen counter, standing in the dark, the only light coming from the candles shoved into the cake in front of you. “Here we go!” Thirty people, or more, sang Happy Birthday to you in the most obnoxious way possible, led by Taehyun himself. Friends, family from both sides, neighbors… Everyone was gathered to sing to you, to celebrate you. Though the lights were shaped like stars and the song was distorted in your ears, you were having the time of your life. Taehyun to your left, Beomgyu to your right, and Yeonjun hovering behind you, you had everything you could ever need, it made you want to cry. As the singing came to an end, you squeezed your eyes shut and blew out your candles, basking in the cheers that followed.

“She’s eighteen!” Your boys shouted, holding you in some way, jumping up and down with you in their arms.

The lights flickered on and the cake was whisked away. Your vision was truly tunneling, all you could see were the boys in front of you, congratulating you. Taehyun hugged you first, holding you tight. The one day he could without it being considered weird. Yeonjun was next, slipping his arms around your waist, bending you in half as you laughed and clung to his shoulders. Turning to Beomgyu, you reached for his cheeks and gave them a squeeze, getting a laugh out of him. He grabbed your hands and yanked you toward him, hugging you tight, pressing one of his cheeks to your own.

“Happy Birthday,” he whispered to you. “Taehyun says when the party starts.” Pulling away, you stumbled backward and bit your bottom lip. Beomgyu was smug, but he was subtle. His attention immediately shifted when he watched your cheeks turn pink.

“Hey,” Yeonjun said, grabbing your wrist, pulling you out into the hallway. The pretty boy got you alone, his black hair parted in the center, hanging over his forehead almost brushed against your own. “I have something for you, but I can’t give it to you right now.”

Your eyes focused on his lips. His full, plump, beautiful lips you’d always been dying to kiss, only while under the influence. “Okay,” you whispered, blinking up at him mindlessly.

“It’ll make you feel even better than this,” he smirked, placing a hand on the wall above your shoulder. “I promise.” 

“Really?” you sighed, falling under his charm. Yeonjun grinned, taking his other hand to your cheek, dragging his fingers over your warm skin.

“Really,” he said, his tone turning sultry. “Taehyun got this for you, right?”

Blinking twice, slowly, you nodded even slower. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Took it hours ago… Dunno what it is, Junie.”

Yeonjun’s expression turned serious. “Oh, no, honey, that’s not too safe is it?”

He began to shake his head, and you followed along. “No,” you whispered.

“No,” he lowered his brows. “It’s not. I can tell you exactly what I got you, it’ll-”

“C’mon, Baby,” Taehyun said, abruptly pulling you away from Yeonjun. The boy tumbled back and shot Taehyun a glare. “We’re outta here. Yeonjun you gotta go.”

Taehyun wrapped an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close under his. With Beomgyu close behind, Taehyun had you in a brisk walk, headed for the front door. “Wait, hold on, Tae,” you said, trying to turn back around.

“No, keep walking,” Taehyun muttered.

“Where the fuck are you guys going?” Yeonjun called after you, throwing his arms out to the side. Taehyun turned toward him for only a moment more.

“Somewhere without you,” he narrowed his eyes. “Till you stop being a shady piece of shit.”

Yeonjun placed his hands on his hips, his gaze shifting between Taehyun and Beomgyu. “You two are the ones being shady pieces of shit, like what even is this?” He gestured toward you. “It’s her party and you’re leaving? And I’m not going with?”

“Why’s he not coming with?” you parroted his words, but Beomgyu shut you up with a glare. “Oh, right.”

Yeonjun clapped his hands together and laughed sarcastically. “Shady shit! You guys suck.” He made it to the front door first. “Happy Birthday,” he said to you, reaching in his pocket, tossing a small bag of powder by your feet. Beomgyu was quick in picking it up and pocketing it, making sure no adult had rounded the corner. By the time the three of you looked back at the door, Yeonjun was gone.

“Did he touch you?” Taehyun asked, his eyes burning into yours. A shake of your head didn’t appease him. “Words, Baby.”

“No,” you said, trying to swallow, but your mouth was suddenly really, really dry. “I need water.” Your voice was hushed.

Taehyun cringed. “Ah, shit, right,” he mumbled, then looked up at Beomgyu. “Jungkook wanna make a pitstop on the way to your house?” Both boys started you for the door once again, your feet almost stumbling over the other.

“Am I supposed to feel more… more dizzy?” you laughed. Beomgyu and Taehyun shared a look, laughing with you.

“We gotta catch up,” Taehyun whispered. You could barely see the boys around you as they spoke, you only heard their voices that were as beautiful and as soothing as a lullaby. “I wanna feel what she’s feeling.”

Beomgyu wrapped an arm around you, helping Taehyun get you out the door. “I wanna feel what she’s feeling while feeling her.” 

You managed to swat a hand at his chest. “Gyu,” you sang. The front door shut behind you, and it was just the three of you on the porch. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, you pulled him toward you and pressed your lips to his, feeling like you had no control over anything you were doing. He kissed you back, it was a rough, wet mess. You were just slipping your tongue between his lips when a hand grabbed your hair and pulled you back.

Stumbling into Taehyun's chest, you giggled and spun around, throwing your arms around his shoulders, letting your lips meet more gentle than they did with Beomgyu’s. Taehyuns kiss was careful, and sweet, and full of feeling, and, and…

“Who was that lady with the white hair?” Minho called out as the video ended on a scene of family lounging around the living room.

“That’s your Great-Aunt Jennie,” Jin said to the boy, smiling at him. “That was my favorite one,” he glanced at his wife, “Full of people I haven’t seen in ages.” Joy placed a hand to his thigh and gave it a squeeze. Great-Aunt Jennie passed away two years ago.

Mina had climbed onto Soobins lap at some point during that last one, where your brain was trailing off elsewhere. Your family was watching scenes of your family, but you were on the front porch, getting in the car with Beomgyu’s older brother, driving to their house to spend two nights in a row there. The three of you missed two days of school that week, of your senior year.

“I think I’m all videoed out,” you said a bit too loud, standing to your feet, heading out into the hallway without a look back. With Wonwoo in your arms you took it upon yourself to head upstairs and put the baby in the bassinet you brought with you after changing and nursing him.

Keeping your mind clear, blocking out every and any thought you were having, you got changed yourself, throwing on one of Soobin’s t-shirts and a pair of flowing sweatpants. You didn’t bother to brush your teeth or take off your makeup, instead you curled up in your bed and tried to not let the thoughts consume you while you waited for Soobin to come up.

Coming here for the weekend was one thing. You were already thrown into a torturous mess of family and remembering things, you didn’t know you’d be forced to relive so many different memories you had suppressed for a multitude of reasons. Laying here in the dark, you’re beginning to think this weekend was meant to happen this way to show you exactly how far you’ve drifted from this life. That Soobin and your kids was where you were meant to be, happy and dramaless, safe and growing in positivity and a pureness your children were not going to get from this house.

It was nauseating, and would give you a migraine if you thought about it for too long. In just one day, after yearning for what used to be, you’ve realized it wasn’t what it was. It’s not the same as it was. Whatever you were longing for would not feel the same as it did when you were eighteen, nineteen, even twenty-one. You were at an entirely different aspect of life now. A healthy one.

“Darling?” Soobin whispered, the door opening slowly, light flooding in from the hallway. Sitting up, you watched him shut the bedroom door quietly so as to not wake the baby, then he walked to your side, catching you as you fell into him. “Are you alright?”

“Next Christmas we stay for a day,” you whispered. “Then, we leave and spend it with the kids. Just the kids.”

Soobin drug his hand in a circle around your back, letting it slip beneath the shirt you wore. “You know, I’m not going to say no.”

Looking up at him, you tried to give him a smile. “Thank you.”

“For?” Soobin quirked a brow.

“For being you,” you whispered. “For believing in me, and sticking by me, and supporting me, and treating me nicely, and… loving the kids.”

Soobin held back a smile, his eyes going slightly wide. “That’s a lot of thank you’s.”

“I mean every word,” you said. “I love you so much. I think I’m… content… not having heavy ties here.”

Your husband sucked in a breath, like relief had struck him suddenly. “Moving on.”

You finally smiled, nodding. “Moving on.”

“Thank god,” Soobin groaned, pushing you backward against the pillows to smother you with kisses. His lips were halfway down your neck until you pushed him off.

“Where’s the kids?” you asked.

A soft smile graced his lips. “Taehyun offered up his bedroom for all of them. He got Mina’s little crib set up in there, and the boys snuggled up in his bed with Minho.”

“Rosie?” You raised your brows.

Soobin chuckled. “She’ll be in a sleeping bag on the floor next to Mina.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” he said. “Now, may I continue?”

Glancing at the baby’s bassinet that was set up in the corner furthest from you, you turned back to your husband with a smile and hummed. “Continue,” you giggled.

It seemed impossible to sleep, and no, it wasn’t Christmas excitement keeping you up. Soobin, sound asleep beside you, had done his best to tire you out, to relax you enough that you’d want to shut your eyes and snooze, but it wasn’t enough.

After Christmas you were heading back home to be a family of six, unsure of when you’d be coming back here to visit your family, unsure of when you’d ever see Taehyun again. Everything was still unclear between the two of you, whether or not your relationship was in good standing. Those videos gave you a decent idea of where you were headed with your decision on making up.

Slipping out of the covers carefully so you didn’t startle Soobin, you checked on Wonwoo who was also sound asleep, then tiptoed out to the hallway. It was dark, and quiet, the only light coming from the stairs, where the Christmas throw up was. Pushing your hair back out of your face, you took yourself down there, the stairs creaking beneath you as snuck down. Peeking into the front room with the tree and the lights, you find mountains of gifts waiting for your kids under the branches. Gifts upon gifts you didn’t even approve of were patiently awaiting their sticky little fingers to tear them open. Two little green bikes were standing by the windows. Your twins were going to lose their minds.

The rest of the house was silent, everyone was clearly asleep. Sneaking down the hallway into the kitchen, a gasp escapes you when you find Taehyun sitting at the kitchen table in the dark with a glass of water sitting in front of him.

“Jesus, Tae,” you whispered.

“Sorry,” he breathed a laugh. “Didn’t wanna cause any commotion.”

Taking a breath to calm your beating heart, you walk over and take a seat next to him, keeping your focus on the table in front of you. “No, you’re good, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be up.”

Taehyun bobbed his head and twisted his glass on the wood. “Sober sleep is hard.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “You wake up feeling a lot better though.”

He laughed. “True.”

Silence fell between you, a suffocating silence, like there was so much more to say yet not enough time to say it. Either that or neither of you had the balls to do so.

“Everything that I’ve said today,” Taehyun began, gulping, “I’m sorry.” He looked to you with only his eyes. You did the same. “It wasn’t appropriate of me to let you hear any of it.”

Shifting your body, you turned to face him, pulling your legs up on the chair. “I needed it.”

He looked at you with wild eyes. “Really?” Copying your stance, he twisted to give you his full attention. 

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “We can’t live with all that shit trapped inside of us. That’s what’s made these last twelve years really, really hard. We stopped talking.”

Taehyun rolled his eyes. “I stopped talking.”

“Why did you?” Your voice was a whisper, one that made him recoil with a slight shake of his head. “And don’t say it’s ‘cause of Sana, because I know for a fact that it’s not.”

He stared down at nothing for a few seconds, before a gentle groan came out of him and he gave you a half smile. “Beomgyu.” The name, after those videos, made your stomach turn. In the not fun way.

“What about him?” Your voice was small.

“I don’t even think I need to say it.”

“Taehyun, please.”

He exhaled heavily and squeezed his eyes shut. “You guys… liked each other.”

A breath corrupted your lungs, a lump lodging in your throat as you tore your eyes away from him, looking about the kitchen. Taehyun smiled something of sorrow.

“I was a toy for him to play with,” you mumbled, and he detested immediately.

“That is a lie and you know it,” he said. Meeting his eyes, you felt a tear slip out of one of yours. “You saw those videos, I couldn’t watch anything except for how he looked at you. Shit, Baby, I was there. I could see, I could feel how he felt. And I know how it feels to be loved by you. You loved him too.”

Wiping your hands over your face, letting them sit there for a moment, you sniffled. “Oh, it’s so fucked, Tae.”

“I know,” he whispered. “It’s so fucked.” He went quiet, glancing around the room, watching the snowfall outside. “I don’t blame it for our problems, though. I don’t blame him. He’s still my best friend, he’s still…” You snapped your eyes toward him, begging him to not say the words. A sigh and a head shake was answer enough that he’d keep his mouth shut.

“I had Rosie on purpose,” he decided to tread carefully. “We know this, I… yelled it at you.”

“Sorry for trying to talk you out of it.” Your hushed voice surprised him. “You love her, so much. Both of them. It hurts me that I tried to take that away from you.”

“You didn’t know,” he said, the look in his eye accepting your apology. “We didn’t know we’d be here. We didn’t know Sana would stick with me. No one knew if I’d make it this far, have them with me, have any sort of custody… It’s okay.” He nodded. “You wanted to protect me.”

“That day, at her shower,” you rested your chin on one of your knees, “You wanted to protect me. I remember you telling Gyu to take me to his brothers.”

Taehyun let the memory find him. “I did. He wanted to bring you there anyway, without me telling him to. We both knew you wouldn’t go if I didn’t say something.”

“Where were going with this before?” you asked. “Talking about Rose.”

Taehyun attempted a smile. “I… had her on purpose. Which sounds pretty shitty to say out loud.” The two of you shared a quiet laugh. “But, I got with Sana for more of a reason than to just piss you off.”

“You did piss me off pretty bad,” you giggled, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m good at that,” he popped his brows once. “I just…” The energy shifted. “There was no life with me,” he whispered, looking at you. “There was no life… with you. You and I, we could never have this.” He gestured around the kitchen.

Raising your brows you sighed. “You and I couldn’t ever afford this.” It made him laugh, thankfully. His hands found his lap, folding together between the sweats he was wearing to bed.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” you said, tone as soft as his.

“I had to do something, something that would force us to stop what we were doing, ‘cause there was little to nothing that would stop us.” He huffed a laugh watching you force back a smile. “As much as it hurt… It hurt so bad. I did it for you.”

“That’s ass backwards,” you muttered. 

“Totally,” he agreed. “I saw you and Gyu. Saw how you were. I thought, if I did this, you two would get together. Eventually.”

Trying to swallow the lump in your throat away, it seemed it was there to stay. Another tear fell. “And how did that plan work out?”

Your whisper just about punched him in the gut. “I didn’t think any of this would happen.”

Wiping your own tears, you took in a shaky deep breath. “You know, you could’ve just said the words, Taehyun. That’s all I ever wanted, was for you to talk to me. A majority of my life was one big secret, I didn’t need anymore from you.”

He took you in, accepting defeat. “I’m sorry. You deserved better.”

A sarcastic laugh came out amongst the tears. “And you thought that was Gyu?” you whispered, sniffling, and laughing. “He literally told me he wouldn’t do anything because I was yours. Always was, always will be.” Taehyun averted his gaze. “If you weren’t involved, I barely heard from him. To this day, I don’t hear from him.” But, you knew he knew that.

“Do you know how lucky I am to have the man that I do upstairs?” you continued on, Taehyuns eyes eventually finding yours again. “Do you know how unbelievable it is that he’s even with me? I already fucked up with him once, with undeniable, living proof that we’ll have for the rest of our lives, and he married me, Taehyun.” You took a second to wipe your tears. “Where was Beomgyu?”

Getting up out of his chair, he paused you for a moment. “Hang on,” he muttered, leaving the kitchen, then reappearing after a minute or two with envelopes in his hands. “I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to give you these.” He sat beside you and placed the long white letter envelopes on the table. “Was worried you wouldn’t come this weekend.”

Jaw tight, you reached for the envelopes and kept a strong face as you picked them up. Your tears betrayed you, as you read the names on the front of the four letters they fell steadily. Two were dated from the boy's fourth birthday, their names written neatly on the front, as well as the other two, from their fifth birthday this year. 

This was how it went. An envelope for each boy with a birthday wish and a hefty amount of cash. Usually these were slipped to you at one of Taehyun’s kids parties, discreetly, like it was hush money and not birthday gifts for your children. Words were never spoken, nor exchanged. The letters were given to you, by Taehyun, and you handed them off to your husband without a second thought.

“Have you ever read them?” he asked, eyeing the envelopes you held.

“No,” you breathed, and he nodded. “Soobin has, though. I might, eventually.”

Nodding again, Taehyun sat quietly, letting you have a minute before he said, “He’s a good man.”

Flickering your eyes up to him you smiled. “He’s a damn good man, Tae.” Holding up the letters, you scoffed. “After this? Taking care of and accepting those boys like they’re his own? I swear… I don’t deserve him.”

“Yes, you do,” he said. “You deserve him and so much more.”

Six years ago, you and Soobin’s gap year, that sounded so superficial at this point, you ran back to the two boys, both Taehyun and Beomgyu. A taste of your old life, one that Soobin was detoxing you from. It scared you, to think you were losing a side of yourself, the only side of yourself you had ever known. You weren’t able to stay at Taehyun’s, and you sure as hell didn’t want to stay back at home, so you settled on living at Beomgyu’s for some time. 

Having his own place by then, not too far from Taehyun’s, the three of you lived like you were twenty again, and it was exhilarating, it was freedom, it was familiar. Thinking about it now you cannot believe that you allowed half of it to happen, Taehyun was a married man with two children, but most of that year, those collective months, was a blurred mess. Neither of the boys tried to talk you out of anything with Soobin, in fact, they barely spoke his name. You led… everything.

At this point it seemed that Beomgyu had somewhat gotten over his, ‘you’re always his’, thing, because most mornings you weren’t waking up in the spare room, you were waking up beside him, with tangled limbs and hungover, naked bodies.

You didn’t know you were pregnant until you made up with Soobin. After months of living in hazy chaos, you had an epiphany, much like the one you had a few hours ago after watching the home movies. It wasn’t a life you wanted. It clearly wasn’t a life Beomgyu wanted either.

Living back here at home, days away from moving in with Soobin, into the first tiny home you shared together, you found out you were expecting. Positively gutted, knowing there was no way in hell that Soobin had fathered the child, you were at a loss. You sat on the tiled floor of the bathroom upstairs, alone, for an hour. There was no Taehyun to rush in to save you, to hold you in his arms and tell you everything was going to be okay. You were completely alone, and you had no other choice but to tell Soobin.

Sure, you could’ve taken the other route and gotten yourself out of the shitty predicament, but something in your heart was begging you to tell him. So, you did. And, you hurt him. He didn’t ignore you, he didn’t push you away, he didn’t postpone your move in, he was there for you, and cared for you.

It was one thing you still couldn’t wrap your mind around. How one day he woke up, and decided it was the day to propose, at your bedside in the early morning when you just peeked open your eyes. He spoke words that, still to this day, had the power to bring you to tears. He accepted you, he promised to love and to care for you. He accepted your boys, before either of you even knew there were two. For six years he’s kept his promise. For six years he’s been the best damn father any child could ask for.

“Taehyun, I know we both said things we still mean,” you spoke carefully, keeping his gaze on yours. “You said that you love me, and I… I love you, too.”

He cringed to himself. “I hope you know I don’t mean it in the, I want you to divorce him, way.”

You nearly leapt out of your seat, reaching forward for his hands. “God, no, Tae,” you sighed. “Listen, part of me came here wondering what was left. Of us.” He listened intently, soaking up every word. “You probably thought I was gonna try to… get you back, or something.” He nodded solemnly, a confession he didn’t want to reveal. “And, maybe part of me wanted to find out, but that stuff isn’t important anymore. We’re two entirely different people now. We’re both sober, we’re both on track to live happy, fulfilling lives… We cannot go backward.”

Watching you, wondering if you had anything else to add, he asked, “Will you ever tell them? The boys?”

Your heart sank. “Soobin and I discussed it. When they’re old enough, we’ll tell them. We’ll give them the letters.” Your eyes burned, the tears coming on fast. “Though I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for them to find out that he didn’t want them. I don’t wanna break their hearts. I don’t want them to have to go through the same pain I did, the realization that your father rejected you, acting like you don’t exist.” Taehyun squeezed your hands. You swore a tear slid down his cheek. “How do I do that to them?”

Taking a deep breath, Taehyun gestured to the letters you threw down on the table. “Read them,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t place. “Before you tell the boys… read them.”

After a sniffle you nodded, wiping your tears on your shoulder. “I said it earlier, I want my kids to know you.” He drug his fingers over your skin delicately. “Especially the boys, you’re…” a shaky breath shot through you, “You’re the closest thing they have to him.”

It fell quiet once again, the brisk wind and snow outside the only thing to be heard, calming you both. Taehyun gave your hands one last squeeze before he let them go and tucked his back into his lap. “Yanno, Joy was saying some funny stuff.”

“That the boys look like you,” you said quickly, both of you laughing together.

“Yeah,” Taehyun screwed his face up. “It made me think. It made me think some things I shouldn’t think-“

“Tae,” you said gently. “They’re his. Gyu’s their daddy. I promise you.”

He looked at his lap. “Right,” he whispered, lips firmly pressed together. 

Ignoring everything that changed about him in this moment, you kept things moving, picking up the letters off the table. “Thank you for these,” you smiled. “And, thank you for being here. For talking to me.”

He flashed you that grin that made your heart skip a beat. “What are friends for, Baby?”

Glittering wrapping paper littered the floor, more being thrown by the minute. Every child was beaming, showing off each gift they unwrapped to whoever's eye they could catch. The twins, absolutely losing their minds over their bikes, Mina, asking Jin to open up her new baby doll, Minho, reading the back of a vinyl record, and Rosie, counting how many new lip glosses she’s opened. The room was happy, full of life.

Soobin sat on a couch with Wonwoo in his arms, the infant holding onto a teething ring for dear life, chewing on it while he watched his family go crazy over their gifts. He shot you a smile each time one of your kids opened something new, a screech sounding off when they recognized it was something they’d been asking for.

“You boys want Daddy and Uncle Taehyun to teach you how to ride them?” you asked, holding up your phone to take photos of the twins trying to sit on their bikes. Taehyun, on the floor next to the tree, handing out gifts whenever a child asked for another, looked up at your husband, eyes full of hope.

“Oh my god, yes!” Chan shouted, jumping up and down on his feet covered by the fuzzy footed pajamas he wore. Sunoo, matching his brother, threw his arms in the air and cheered. Eyeing Soobin carefully, you sighed as you watched him smile and nod at Taehyun.

“Can we go now?” Sunoo pouted, eyes going wide. Taehyun snickered and looked over at you.

“Sun, look outside,” you pointed to the window. All the kids followed, glancing out to the snow that was probably going to have you stuck here for another night. “Don’t think you’ll be able to ride a bike out there.” Soobin shot you a look, his smile sarcastic, already dreading staying here one more time.

The boys moved onto other gifts, taking their time, scoping the scene, helping their sister and asking Minho what he got. Taehyun moved to the couch next to Soobin, a foot of space separating them, the three men falling into conversation with one another, Jin seeming happy to have them both there with him. Observing the organized chaos, you didn’t notice your mother approaching you, sliding her arm around your back where you stood in the archway.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” she smiled, speaking quietly to you. Giving her a quick smile, you focused back on your husband, who was handing Wonwoo over to Taehyun.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” you whispered. Taehyun gazed down at your son in awe, the first time he’s actually held him this weekend. The first time he was getting to know one of your kids before they learned how to walk. He didn’t get to do this with Mina. He barely got to do it with the twins. Wonwoo smiled up at him after he whispered something to the baby, and when he did, he looked up at you and the look on his face warmed your heart.

“He’s so…” Joy began.

“Good with the kids,” you finished, giving her a look. “I know, Mom.”

She forced a smile onto her lips, looking back at you like she was in pain. Her eyebrows were flipped and her eyes were glistening. “I’m sorry if those videos were a lot,” she said, and you scoffed, brushing it off. “No, I mean it. It’s clear you’re moved on from then, I think I was just so caught up in the past. It’s lonely here without you.”

Sighing, you turned to face her. “Mom, the videos-”

“I don’t need you to try to reassure me,” she actually smiled, rubbing your forearm. “They were a lot for me, too. Seeing that day,” her eyes widened for a second, her voice dropping back down to a whisper, one that sent a chill down your spine, “I was reminded how grateful I am that it wasn’t you.”

“Mom,” you gasped, clamping your jaw shut. Her eyes flickered toward Taehyun quickly, then back to yours without much else to say.

“I hold onto hope that one day you’ll open up to me,” she said. “I’m here for you. I always have been.” With another gentle rub of your arm she scurried off into the room to celebrate with the kids.

Your skin has flushed, you know it has. Frozen where she left you, you can’t comprehend what had just happened, what she had just told you, what she had literally admitted to you. Nausea washed over you, your throat closing, like the ability to breath was stolen from you.

She knew.

Willing yourself to turn toward the room where the commotion continued, but you heard half of it, you took one look at the men on the couch. Soobin and Taehyun, both looking back at you with concern. Soobin’s was protective, but Taehyun’s was straight worry. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know how to process. A secret you were planning to keep from her for the rest of your life, one that you and Taehyun were going to take to the grave, she knew about. She left you without any indication as to when she found out, who she found out from, if she figured it out herself, if Jin knew as well… She knew, and you didn’t know how.

Looking at your boys, your beautiful twin boys showing their grandmother their new books they had unwrapped, you felt your heart rate skyrocket as you realized that as she sat there talking with them, she thought they were Taehyun’s children.

You were crying, and you weren’t totally sure you were breathing either. Shaky hands pushed back your hair and wiped your tears. Shaky legs took you away from the celebration, into another room, the living room, where you fell onto a couch and buried your face in your hands, finally letting out a decent sob you’d been suppressing all weekend.

It wasn’t long until a pair of strong arms wrapped around you, cozying up next to you, pulling you into their lap. Smothering yourself in their chest, you grabbed onto them somehow, and cried. There weren’t any words to say. Looking up at your husband, teary eyed, there wasn’t a thing either of you could say, or do, to make this any better.

“I’ll find a way to get us home tonight,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Okay, maybe there was one thing he could say to make this a little bit better. And you knew damn well, better than anyone, that Soobin kept his promises.

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thank you so much for reading. <3

[marimayscarlett]

Hi! I absolutely love all of your detailed posts about Richard, they make my day when you post them, I was wondering if you could make a compilation of very wholesome moments with fans? I'm afraid that Rammstein will never come back to the US and I'll miss my chance of meeting him in person and I'd love to see some sweet fan interactions ❤️ Dankeschön ❤️❤️

Hi 🤍

Please excuse my late reply to this, but I love this ask! It's known that Richard can be very warmhearted towards fans and gives out bone-crushing hugs left and right - I found several accounts of fans who met him and will accumulate these in the following post 😊 (sources are linked at the end of the post.)

First some stories of fans who shared their experiences on the internet:

One fan met him before a concert, he gave the fan a hug and they say that to this day, they haven't forgotten the feeling of this hug.

Here's an account of a fan who met Richard at a resort in Mexico: "Richard never acted like we were imposing on his time or being a hindrance, even though he was with a table of friends. As soon as we were in eye contact range, his entire demeanor changed. He lit up like a Christmas tree and stood to shake our hands, stood close to us to chat for a few minutes - five minutes, tops, and gave us hugs as we left before shaking our hands again."

After a concert: "The hug I got was bone crushing. I was right in front of him. Cried my way through Frühling [...]. He checked on me and asked me if I was ok. Said i was fine and even the amount of times I'd seen them play, i got so caught up in the emotion. Richard told me they were the most moving moments for him at least and pulled me into a huge hug that if i think about it, i can still feel. Sounds weird but when you get a hug like that you dont forget it."

Richard seems to be a bit camera-shy while being out and about (declining selfies most of the time), but offers/asks for hugs himself as a return, as told by a fan who met him at the Chicago Airport. The fan apologized after asking for a selfie, yet Richard immediately asked her to give him a hug afterwards.

At a concert at the Palace of Auburn Hills in Detroit back, May 2012: "For some reason, I thought of making a sign that said "Pick für mich, bitte". We were right at the barricade and I decided to flash the sign. I don't even know what I expected out of it. Well, Richard fucking Kruspe went to his mic stand, got a pick, went to the security guard in front of the railing and told him to give me the pick. The guard and I had chatted prior to their performance, so he looked at me with a "way to go, kid" look. People around me cheered. Best concert memory ever. Nothing but a class act."

Another fan reports him being quite talkative and attentive during parties - apparently really listening to the other person and showing real interest. He really likes to talk about music and guitars and seemingly likes hearing the opinions of fans.

Meeting the band in front of their hotel: "His hug was the tightest, and he smells SO GOOD, I wanted to ask what was his perfume. I told him I loved Emigrate, he gave me the biggest smile and thanked me."

Then we have voice from withing the fandom on here - the lovely and helpful @anwiel13 said this about meeting him at a Meet&Greet (thank you again for sharing this! 🤍):

"Once he entered the room, we immediately know it. Not that he did something, but he really has this big personality, in very good way. He was smiling all the time, unless taking photos, than we was all his gothic deep stare self. He was also super nice to two girls, who were absolutely nervous, telling him how much they love him. We all know he hear this all the time, but he really looked like he is listening them and make them feel not like crazy fangirls annoying him with their feelings. If that's make sense. He hugged one girl when she asked him and again, did not looked like she's annoying him with this. He left very quickly after taking photos and signed our things. Overall, he was very nice and caring. I heard somebody complain about him being all snobby and annoyed during some M&G, but he was nothing like this during the one in Prague."

Plus I have found two 'essay'-posts on here describing fan-experiences at Meet&Greets and afterparties:

Here Richard is described as really warmhearted, smiling and patient with the fans:

A very wholesome interaction (with a cute Paulchard momet) with a fan who brought selfmade fan art with her:

And since of course I found some experiences with other band members on my research-way, here are my favourites of some of the other guys 😊:

At an afterparty: "I spent a long time talking to Flake who is beautifully underappreciated. He's such a wise man with an incredibly dark sense of humour. [...] Flakes English isn't great but he seemed to really appreciate that someone would talk to him in German and happy to help me figure out words I wasn't familiar with and vice versa. I really appreciated it as he did slow down his natural German speaking speed to help me continue a conversation in German as native speaking speed was just a little too fast."

At a meet and greet: "Schneider gave me such Dom-Daddy vibes that I would have got on my knees if he asked. He was so friendly, asked about myself and I was able to give him a letter from my best friend who had spoken to him years before, and he was so happy to take it."

At an afterparty of Till's solo tour (London concert): "I went to see Lindemann in London and was invited to the after party and ended up trying to open a bottle of wine with a set of keys with Till and then ended up drinking vodka and chatting to him for a few hours. Such a humble human and one of my biggest role models in life - he made me want to become a fire performer and he said I looked great doing what I do."

"Did a meet & greet on the 2019 tour and a bunch of the after parties. Doom is an incredible dancer and Paul and Richard give the best hugs." (I've read several times that Schneider seemingly kills it on the dance floor 👀)

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6

All in all, it's always amazing reading about fans having nice experiences with them - but let's not forget (since some people do exactly this), the band members are also just human beings like you and me, don't owe the fans smiles and good moods, and it's not a crime to have a bad day once in a while (with less enthusiastic interaction with fans) or just wanting some peace or being in a hurry, since they all do have private lives🤝🏼

[sluttyten]

You In My Arms

Chapter 7: An Eye For An Eye

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: now that the truth is out in the open, you find it harder than ever to keep yourself from wanting Haechan constantly. But at least now you know that he wants you just as much.

length: 9,317 words

tags: voyeurism, exhibitionism, slowburn, friends to lovers, masturbation, public sex, fingering, general perversion, smut

previous chapter || next chapter

Waking the next morning, you stare up at the ceiling for a good long while. Remembering yesterday, remembering last night. 

You got the truth from Haechan. You shared secrets. 

He kissed you. 

And still, you feel giddy about it, like a young girl with her first kiss. 

Haechan kissed you. 

You kissed him. 

You cover your face with your hands to muffle the excited sound that spills from your lips. 

What happens now?

You go through your day as normal. You clean the apartment, you and your roommate make a grocery run in the mid-afternoon, and then as the day creeps towards evening, your thoughts start to turn and focus exclusively on Haechan. Thinking of what you’d said to him before he first kissed you. An eye for an eye; a truth for a truth. You want equality, which means he’s watched you, so you want to watch him. Properly watch him instead of just from a distance in the dark, though you didn’t share that particular truth with him last night. 

Your roommate leaves for the night to go on a date with her partner and then stay at their place. Which leaves you to fend for yourself for the night. Before she got into this relationship, the two of you spent many Friday and Saturday nights together here in the living room, bundled up in blankets with takeout from a variety of your favorite places. But tonight you either have to decide on a place for yourself, or you can throw together dinner from what you’d bought earlier at the grocery store. 

Unsure what you really want, you just play around on your phone until your brain and your stomach can come to an agreement on what to eat. 

You scroll on Twitter for a little while, get lost down a TikTok rabbit hole until the sky outside is dark and the time staring back at you reads quarter after nine. You switch to Instagram, and right there at the top of your screen it shows that one haechanahceah has added to his story. 

You tap on it. 

He’s holding his phone close to his face as he laughs, the blue sky of twilight barely visible behind him along with a flash of YangYang’s face and toothy smile. The sound of wind rushes against the microphone. The camera flips and you see a skateboard under his feet, pavement rushing by, and then a path stretching out along the river. 

The next part to his story: pictures of food covering a table. Haechan tagged several other people, though YangYang and Ten’s are the only usernames that you recognize from them. 

Drinks. Everyone clinking their glasses together. 

And then the most recent addition to his story is just a simple picture of the moon shining like a fat pearl in the velvet night sky. There’s a song playing, lyrics scrolling over the image of the moon, and it’s a song of neediness, desire, longing. 

It was posted five minutes ago. 

And just as you’re about to close out of the app and order yourself some dinner, your phone chimes with a message. 

“Are you doing anything right now?” From Haechan. 

When you don’t answer immediately, you receive a second message from him. “I saw that you just watched my story. Don’t pretend like you’re not on your phone.”

You call him. 

He answers immediately. 

Judging by the lack of wind, you assume he’s not outside any longer. And furthermore, the silence in the background makes you think he might not even be with the others anymore. 

“Hello?” He says, a little breathlessly. 

“What did you want?” 

Silence, then a slight rustling sound. Then, “I was just wondering if you were free or if you’re busy. I’ve been out with some guys all day, I just got home, and I want to send you something.”

“Oh?” You cradle your phone against your face. “Like what?”

“How was it that you phrased it yesterday?” Haechan pauses, as if thinking, then says, “Oh, right. You said you want equality. You want to watch me, since I’ve watched you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, sending pulsing heat to your extremities. “Haechan….”

“So let me ask again,” his voice dips lower, asking, “Are you doing anything right now? Can I send you something?”

All thoughts of dinner have been removed from your mind. The only hunger you feel now is for what Haechan is offering you through the phone. 

“I’m not doing anything.” You hope your voice isn’t shaking, that you don’t sound nervous or over-excited. “Send it.”

He laughs a little under his breath, and you know that you failed at sounding so cavalier. The eagerness and hunger bled through in your voice. 

“Alright, I’m hanging up now.” Haechan’s own voice is light with amusement and excitement. “I’ll send it shortly.”

After the call goes dead on his end of the line, you sit there, clutching your phone in your hands, perched on the edge of the sofa. You wonder if you should order food, if you should just try to eat something. It’s late. If you’re going to eat tonight, you’d better do it now before you get so swept up that you forget to eat altogether. And where do you want to watch this video at? Do you want to just watch it out here? Or should you close yourself away in the privacy of your bedroom, snug in your bed to witness exactly what you’ve been longing to see for so long now?

You think back to the night that started all of this interest in watching and being watched. The night of the hot tub. The first time that you felt there could genuinely be a little something more than just friendship between you and Haechan as you shared that bed with him. You remember longingly noticing the bulge in the front of his shorts when he’d emerged from the hot tub’s water, and you remember about an hour later when he’d stripped beside you in the dark. It had been quite dark, but not dark enough that you hadn’t caught the barest glimpse of his ass and just the shadowy hint of his cock. 

But now? Now your curiosity will be satisfied. 

You snack on something you pull from the pantry, waiting and waiting and waiting. After twenty minutes, you send him a text with a bunch of question marks. 

“Patience baby” is all you get back from Haechan. 

But the thing is, you’re feeling rather impatient. You’re horny now, excited thinking about getting to watch him. You do move to your bedroom, closing the door, turning the lights down, tucking yourself in with your phone held to your chest. You’re going to enjoy this. 

Finally after too fucking long, your phone chimes again. 

When you open the message, the rectangle of the video is just black. 

You tap play, and it fills your screen, still black. 

For a moment, you think something’s wrong with the video, but then you hear sound. The rustle of sheets. A shuddering breath. Something moving in the dark, which you realize a moment later is the shadow of some part of Haechan’s body against the faint light of his computer’s blinking power button. 

What is this? You wanted to see him, not just hear him. 

And then the video is illuminated as his bedside lamp is clicked on. The phone camera passes over rumpled sheets. There’s a flicker of tanned skin, the curve of his bare thigh. You hold your breath as at last the camera focuses on the fit of his fingers around his dick. 

It’s pretty and tan, just like the rest of him. 

His cock is actually bigger than you imagined it would be. You figured Haechan would be a little below average in terms of size, if you’re being honest, but the cock you’re looking at on your phone screen exceeds your expectations. He’s probably average in length, but damn, he’s thick from base to the tip, which is a pretty shade of pink that reminds you of his lips. He’s got a perfect cock, in your opinion. Right away, you want him in your mouth, your throat aches for it. 

And then you just sit back and watch the video, admiring the way he touches himself, the sounds he makes, the way that as he gets close to orgasm his hips twitch off the bed to rock into the circle of his fingers. You drink everything in, hungrily consuming the video to notice all the small details. The small scattering of moles across his belly and thighs and his arm and hand. The dusting of hair leading from below his navel to the base of his cock. 

You’ve been with a decent amount of men. You’ve seen cocks, touched them, tasted them, had them inside you. But you’ve never had Haechan’s, and the longer you sit here watching, the more that you feel like this video is just a cruel tease. 

Is that how he felt while watching the video feed of you masturbating in the office? Like it was just a cruel tease of what he couldn’t have?

Haechan moans your name in the video and your belly goes tight and hot at the sound, a whined praise from his lips.

How long would it take you to get to his apartment right now?

His hand flies over his length in the video, his moans like music to your ears. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, “Baby, bet your pussy would be so tight around me right now, so wet and slippery. I know you get super wet. Are you wet right now?”

Fuck. Yeah, you are. You’re not touching yourself though, too caught up in simply watching him to want to take away from it. But your core is throbbing with heat, panties soaked through. 

“You’d be taking my cock so well, angel.” Haechan gives one sharp thrust into his hand, his heels digging into the mattress as his hips lift off the bed. “Do you think you’d be a good girl for me? Do whatever I ask? Would you get on your knees and beg for me?”

If you were there right now, you certainly would be on your knees, mouth open wide, tongue out for his cock. You would let Haechan make such a mess of you. You would let him cum on your tits and your throat in public, and you would proudly wear that pearl necklace like a prize.

“Or would I need to punish you? You’ve shown me how naughty you can be.” He moans, passing his thumb right over the weeping slit of his cock. “What would even be a good punishment for you? Taking you out in public, teasing you, but not letting you cum? Sit you on my cock in front of all of our friends, tease you nice and slow while you keep my cock warm. But, no, you would enjoy that too much, wouldn’t you? What if I didn’t allow you to cum? Would that be punishment enough? I’d have to take you home, angel, edge you for as many times as you nearly gave us away.”

Your toes curl at the sound of his words, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing. You can’t take it anymore. 

You slip your fingers inside your panties, dipping them through your wetness. 

Haechan moans again, and your entire body buzzes and flares with heat in response. 

“I’ve never really done anything in public before, not quite like you,” Haechan says, still fisting his cock. “Only ever when I’m tucked out of sight, in semi-privacy, or after dark.” His hand holding his phone shakes, his breath shudders. “But you make me want to try getting a little riskier.”

You can just imagine it now. Taking Haechan out with you like you’d tried to do with a few of those random guys you hooked up with. Taking him to the park to have some fun on a picnic, tucked in a corner of the aquarium as the pretty fish swim by, fucking around in the car on a hot summer day with the windows down and your sweaty bodies exposed to the sunlight. 

You fuck yourself on your fingers, trying to keep your eyes focused on the video, but your vision grows hazy with lust, fantasies sweeping into your mind to overlay the visual of Haechan squeezing his hand around his cock with a groan, bucking his hips up into the tight grip of his fist as he finally cums with your name on his lips. Pearly drops coat his fingers, landing on his belly, and he keeps touching until he cums weakly again, spurting from his cock onto his belly too, all of it gathering in the dip of his belly button. 

You want to lick him clean, gather it all on your tongue and let it leak over his dick again before you blow him just to see how quick his refractory period is. 

You replay the video, and this time you touch yourself. You fold a pillow on the bed, straddle it, and ride your fingers while you hump the pillow, keeping the volume on his video loud where your phone lies beside your knee. You close your eyes and imagine that you’re riding him, fucking yourself on his cock instead of your fingers, that your clit is gaining friction from contact with him instead of your pillow. You imagine that it’s his hand coming down on your ass, a sharp smack that leaves your skin smarting; that it’s his fingers that pinch at your nipples; his shoulders that your fingernails dig into instead of the mattress. 

You slump to the side, fingers still slowly pumping as your body trembles from your orgasm. Your free hand searches the bed for your phone and when you swipe out of the video, you see Haechan has sent you a few more messages that you somehow missed. 

One is a closeup photo of his belly, shiny and wet with his cum. One is a simple question of “did you like it?” And then the third and final message is just a steamy mirror selfie, where only a circle to show his face has been wiped clean on the mirror, and the rest of his nude body is blurred out by the steam. 

You simply respond with a picture of your hand, cum stretching between your fingers, more wetness dripping down your palm. “I liked it.”

Monday morning, you don’t see Haechan at all before you go into your meeting with Taeil. It’s probably for the best. You wouldn’t be able to focus on the meeting if you’d seen Haechan; instead you’d be lost in dreamland, thinking of his cock, the rasp of his voice as he moaned your name. 

So you walk into the meeting with a clear head, which makes it run smoothly and successfully. Taeil is proud of you, he’d told you, stating that you worked hard and efficiently on the project, finishing it in less time than it would’ve taken anyone else. And he doesn’t say it in so many words necessarily, but he does hint that there might be a promotion coming up for you. 

You leave the meeting ecstatic, and the feeling carries you through the rest of the day. 

Tuesday, Haechan gets called away for a business meeting on the other side of the city. Wednesday, it’s your turn. Annoyingly, now that you’re finished with the project and finally thought you’d have some free time, something has always got one or the other of you busy. 

You’re never at work at the same time for that whole week, and that weekend he goes home to visit his family. 

You receive a video then of him on the beach at home, the sunset stretching out before him, and Haechan jerking off. He sends it along with the message “since I once saw you by the ocean, this is only fair,” which he explains he meant he watched you and Renjun in that outdoor shower in Thailand. 

You message each other back and forth constantly that weekend. Just casual conversations and then also the deeper, dirtier kind of conversations. More talk about his watching and your enjoyment of being watched, his new experimentation with exhibitionism. You talk about more things — other kinks and interests. His somewhat unsurprising interest in consensual non-consent. Your interest in a threesome, which you’ve never participated in; Haechan follows this up in recounting what he’s experienced. 

Come the following Monday morning, following all of that talk with none of the action, you’re itching with the need to see him. To actually be in the same space as Haechan. 

That need for proximity only grows when you walk into the office and spot Haechan sitting at his desk just a short distance from yours. 

He’s sipping at an iced americano, spinning back and forth in his chair as he stares at the desktop computer’s screen. He turns to catch your eye as you pass him. Your fingertips brush the back of his chair, just barely touching the fabric of his shirt, but he turns his entire seat to follow you with his eyes. 

“You smell nice today,” he says. 

You turn to look at him, and Haechan’s eyes are currently trailing down your legs. The skirt you’d worn today is perhaps a bit shorter than entirely appropriate, but it has captured his attention fully. He hungrily stares at your thighs, your calves, the way that your heels hug your feet. And then his attention sweeps up to your face again. 

“Do you have plans later?” He asks even as you keep walking away to your own desk. 

You don’t, and you tell him that, but before he can suggest any plans for you and him, someone else speaks up from where you hadn’t even noticed her. 

Taeil’s secretary. 

“Oh, Channie!” You cringe as she uses a nickname for Haechan. “Mr. Moon was actually wondering if you could help him out later. You have a friend that’s a mechanic, right? Mr. Moon’s car has been acting up, so he was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking it for your friend to look at?”

Haechan barely conceals his scowl. The friend in question is Chenle, who recently took his history of wealth, an interest in the inner workings of luxury cars and what he’d learned while studying for a business degree, and he opened a car repair shop business — a far cry from the culinary degree he’d mentioned pursuing when you last saw him. 

“Sure, I can take it to him. But his shop is expensive. He typically only works on luxury cars,” Haechan says. And as far as you’re aware, Mr. Moon drives a Hyundai to and from work everyday, not exactly a luxury vehicle. 

The secretary just smiles. “That’s fine! Mr. Moon recently upgraded to a BMW.”

Hours later, as you’re leaving for the day, you follow Haechan down along with Mr. Moon’s secretary to see the car. It is in fact a shiny, brand new BMW. You wouldn’t think there would be anything wrong with it at all since it looks like it just rolled right out of the factory into this spot in the parking garage. 

The secretary passes the keys over to Haechan, and you don’t miss the nervous way his eyes widen as he takes in the feel of the keys in his hand and then eyes the length of the flawless and expensive car. 

“You’re sure he wants me to take it? He doesn’t want to? I could give you directions, and give my friend a call.” Haechan’s fingers close around the keys. 

She shakes her head, smiling widely as she looks from Haechan to you and then back again. “Mr. Moon has a flight to catch for that conference in Germany. So he’s unavailable to take the car right now, and since he’ll be out of the country for the next week, it just makes sense to have it get worked on while he’s gone.” And then she passes a card over to Haechan as well. “You can charge the mechanic’s bill on this card. And once the car’s finished if you wouldn’t mind just bringing it right back here, and you can leave the key and the card in his office. Thank you, Channie, we both really appreciate it!”

And then she’s walking off, leaving you and Haechan standing there to gaze at the car. 

“You do have your license, don’t you?” You ask. 

Haechan nods wordlessly. “Yeah, but shit. I’ve never even been in a car this nice; I’ve definitely never driven one as nice as this.” 

He unlocks the car, and you watch as he nervously reaches for the door handle. The door opens smoothly, soundlessly, unlike your car which groans loudly pretty much every time you touch it. 

The interior of the car is a cool, sleek black. The dashboard is a screen that comes to life the moment Haechan turns the car on. The engine purrs, and Haechan settles into the driver’s seat, making himself right at home. 

“How do I look?” He asks, gripping the steering wheel and staring ahead through the windshield. “Do I look like I could drive one of these?”

You laugh. “You look hot, Haechan. Like a very, very wealthy man who uses flashy cars to impress people.”

He glances over at you. “Is that what you think Taeil’s doing? Using the car to impress, possibly to compensate?”

“Impress yes. Compensate?” You look Haechan in the eye as you say, “I think you’d be the one who could tell me that. Does he have anything to compensate for?” Haechan’s admitted that he’s watched Taeil fuck the secretary through his hidden cameras, so he should know if Taeil’s gotten a flashy car to compensate for dick size or his skills in bed. 

Haechan shakes his head. “No, he’s fine. Just to impress people then. And it’s definitely working because I’m impressed.” He buckles his seatbelt, adjusting the seat height and distance from the steering wheel, readjusting the mirrors. He does look very hot in the driver’s seat of this nice car. The suit he’d worn to the office today and the pair of sunglasses that he plucks from the cup holder certainly help with the vibe. 

He closes the car door, and a moment later rolls down the dark-tinted window so you can see him again. 

“You want to come with me?”

You lean in, resting your elbows on the edge of the window. Your face is only inches away from Haechan’s, and that delicious fragrance he wears is all you know for a few delirious seconds. You can envision yourself sliding onto the buttery soft leather of the passenger seat. You can envision convincing Haechan to pull over into another parking garage or a park’s parking lot, into anywhere at all and letting you ride him in the driver's seat of this fancy car, finally getting to experience his cock for real. 

You think you can see some of your fantasy playing out behind the dark brown of his eyes too. He’s smiling with a little edge of heat. 

“I shouldn’t.” You take a step back. “I know I said I didn’t have plans, and I haven’t seen Chenle in a while so it would be nice to see him, but I have a feeling that if I get in that car with you…” You meet Haechan’s gaze. “I feel like I’d be distracting you a little too much. Or at least I would want to.”

Your gaze drifts from his eyes to the curl of his hand on the wheel. You don’t think you’d even be out of this parking garage before you’d already be tugging his hand to rest on your thigh, urging his fingers up beneath your skirt. After a week of being denied Haechan’s physical presence in your life, a week filled with nothing but want for every part of him, you feel like an addict being presented with their drug of choice, and it’s almost impossible for you to say no to what he’s offering. But you’re trying so hard to not jump Haechan in your boss’s car. 

“What you’re saying is I’m too sexy right now in this car. You’d be throwing yourself at me?” He grins. 

That’s not what you said, but yes, it’s exactly what you meant. 

You take another step back. “I’m going to go home. You take this car to Chenle for him to work on. Maybe let me know when you’re done, and we’ll see about making some plans then. If not, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Again, you look at his hand on the wheel, the way it flexes, squeezing around the curve of the steering wheel, and your mind flashes to the videos he’s sent you — his hand on his cock, fingers dripping in cum. 

You walk away, taking the elevator to the third level of the parking garage where you’d left your car this morning, and then you sit in your car for a few moments to compose yourself before you head home. Your thoughts, as much as you try to steer them away from the crafted fantasy of fucking Haechan in a fancy car, keep returning there. Again and again on the drive home. 

You’ve just arrived home, just stepped out of your car to head up to your apartment, when you receive a message from Haechan. 

Without hesitation, you open it. 

A video. At first you can only see the interior of the car, and then the camera swings down to focus on his lap. Or, more specifically, on his bare cock. 

“Traffic,” Haechan says. “I’m stuck in traffic, and I’ve got a boner because all I can think about is how if you were here with me right now, you’d be throwing yourself at me.” He laughs a little. “Okay, maybe I’d be the one unable to keep my hands to myself. But unfortunately, right now my hands are all I’ve got for myself, and we’re barely moving in traffic, so I just, ah, thought I’d bide my time productively. I said it the other night, you make me want to take risks in public.”

He’s just rocking his hips off the seat, driving his cock against his hand. 

“The fact this isn’t even my car makes this even hotter. Do you think our boss and secretary have fucked in here yet, or am I the one breaking it in? Shit, if you were here this could be your hand around me. Or maybe your lips. We could break this car in together, would you like that? The windows are so dark though, no one would be able to see you.”

He strokes his cock with a moan. The car lurches forward, you can see his thigh relax and clench as he releases and then steps on the brake. 

“Gotta be careful,” he mumbles to himself. But then he’s right back at it, stroking his cock, and it rubs against Taeil’s steering wheel by accident. His fingers squeeze around his tip and you can see the shiny smear of his precum against the material of the steering wheel. 

He thrusts his hips up, another moan breaking through his lips. 

“It’s gonna be a mess when I cum,” he grunts. “Knew I should’ve brought you for easy cleanup. Could’ve cum in your mouth, made you swallow every drop.”

Your body reacts to that. A lurching feeling of arousal in your core, imagining cleaning up Haechan’s cum. 

His hand stills on his cock for a moment, just the thumb teasing slow circles around the tip, and then he releases his hold with a curse. “We’re moving again.”

And the video ends. 

It’s not until that moment that you realize you’ve just been standing frozen there beside your car this whole time. You pocket your phone and head up to your apartment to take a cold shower. When you get out, you have a new message. 

Another video. 

In this one, the phone is at a different angle and his pants are gone, his shirt is lifted up to expose his belly. And he’s quickly jerking off. There’s no finesse, no teasing or dirty talk. It’s just a quick, short clip of Haechan’s hand moving fast and tight, bitten back moans escaping his teeth as he cums over his fist, dripping down onto his thighs and onto that flawless leather seat. 

“I get why you like this,” Haechan says, bringing the phone up so you can see his chin. “Some man just walked by where I’m parked on the street outside Chenle’s place. The windows are dark so he couldn’t see in, but I had the window rolled down just a little, and he definitely heard me moaning. He was looking, and that’s when I came. What do you think he’d have done if he actually saw me?”

Exactly. That’s exactly what you like about exhibitionism. The thrill of getting away with it and the questions of what if you hadn’t gotten away with it. What would they do if they caught you?

In the video clip you watch Haechan wipe his hand clean on the inside of his undershirt before he tugs his button-down back into place. He straightens his tie and his jacket, then he manages to slide his boxers back up over his hips with one hand. 

“Do you think he’s got any napkins or tissues in here?” Haechan mumbles, reaching around to rustle through the contents of Taeil’s fancy car. “I need something to wipe my jizz up with.”

You smile to yourself, noting the blend of amusement and frustration in Haechan’s voice. 

Eventually he finds something, and he wipes and smears the glob of his cum that had landed on the leather seat. 

It’s then that he slides his phone onto the car’s dashboard, giving you a view of the sky through the windshield. He makes some noise that you assume is him pulling his pants back up, and then he finally picks his phone back up again, showing his face on the video. 

“Anyway, I’d better head inside now and pass the car off to Chenle.” The car door opens, the sounds of the wind and traffic mixing with the sound of his voice. “I’ll have to see how long this takes, but maybe we can still make plans.”

You hope so. 

You spend a little while after that taking care of the Haechan-inspired itch that needs scratching, feeding yourself with fantasies featuring him. You keep expecting to be interrupted by him texting or calling about plans, but you’ve taken care of yourself with no word from him. 

You wait, going about your afternoon doing some laundry and a little cleaning around the apartment. All of it is meant to distract you from being nervous about the reality of making plans with Haechan. Plans that you assume will only lead to finally having sex with him. 

And when he finally sends you a message, your heart takes up an erratic pace. 

But it’s not quite the message you’d hoped for.

“Chenle wants to hang out. He already messaged Renjun, YangYang, and Xiaojun. Do you want to come?”

Now, those aren’t exactly the plans you had in mind, and even as your heart swells with disappointment, you agree. You do want to see your friends, especially Chenle who you haven’t seen in quite a while. But considering that you’re meeting up with all of them for dinner, that they all have a tendency to want to chat late into the night, and since you’re picking up YangYang and Xiaojun on the way, you don’t find your odds of any actual plans with Haechan happening tonight. 

Xiaojun’s girlfriend has basically moved in with him, so she comes along too, and your car is crowded on the way to meet the other three for dinner. And the booth table Chenle booked is even more crowded. 

Everyone is squeezed in so tightly that Haechan has you pressed up against the wall. Across from you, Xiaojun pulled his girlfriend onto his lap. The woman that comes over to take your order only offers an apologetic smile and says that this is the only size table they had left. 

It’s fine. Really. 

You’re all very close friends, so if some of you have to sit with arms around each other, ankles knocking and twisting beneath the table, that’s fine. 

And if it means that at some point after your order is put in and the first round of drinks are served, Haechan tugs one of your legs up over his so he can slide just a little closer to you and save a little extra space for Renjun on his other side, well… you’re not going to complain. 

He glances your way, a sparkle in his eye. 

His hand doesn’t leave your thigh. 

You’re still wearing a skirt, though it’s not the short one you’d worn to work today. 

This is a longer, casual skirt. One that’s loose and floaty enough that when Haechan starts walking his fingers along your thigh, the fabric easily starts bunching up, gathering beneath his fingers and drawing up your leg. 

You tamp down the urge to shiver when the pads of his warm fingers make contact with your bare thigh. 

Liquor burns the back of your throat as you quickly drink the alcohol the woman brought to your table. You hope that the flush of alcohol in your cheeks might conceal the way that you can already feel yourself blushing beneath Haechan’s touch. 

And then he starts stroking his fingers over your inner thigh. Moving them back and forth, fingers drumming gently a melody that you can’t determine. 

The frustrating thing is that you’re in a tizzy, but Haechan is perfectly cool. He’s maintaining a conversation with the others while he builds the heat inside your core. 

And then he squeezes your thigh. 

Palm flat to your skin. Fingers pressing in. 

You snap your head to the side to look at him, your hand dropping beneath the table to cover his hand on your thigh. Your leg draped over his twitches, foot kicking out. 

Unfortunately your accidental kick makes contact. 

Chenle frowns, looking around at your side of the table. “Who just kicked me?”

“Sorry,” Haechan apologizes quickly, covering for you. 

Judging by the way that Chenle moves and the slight thump beneath the table, paired with Haechan’s grunt and jolt, you assume Chenle landed a retaliatory kick. 

Haechan pouts and starts to whine, playing it up dramatically. The others roll their eyes and tease him as he reaches for Renjun asking for him to kiss it better, as he tells Chenle he owes him dessert because his kick had been an accident while Chenle’s had been fully intentional. He asks YangYang to kiss it better, too, to which YangYang flips Haechan off. 

Then he turns to you. “Will you kiss it better?”

Renjun laughs into his drink, nearly choking on it. 

He’s known about your crush on Haechan for ages, so you’re sure he finds that comment very amusing.

You glare at Renjun from over Haechan’s shoulder. Haechan pouts at you, and as much as you desperately want to kiss his soft-looking lips, you’re not going to kiss him in front of your friends right now. “Just take a drink, and you’ll forget about your boo-boo.” You pick up his glass and lift it to his lips for him, tipping it back and pouring it into his mouth. 

Haechan holds eye contact with you, and a pulse of something races along your spine. 

Some of his drink spills from the corner of his mouth, and he lifts a hand to your wrist, pulling your hand and the glass away from his mouth. “I feel better already.”

Beneath the table, he massages your thigh again. 

When the food is served, you would’ve thought he’d need both hands to eat, but to your surprise and satisfaction, Haechan keeps one hand firmly on your thigh, the other to handle his chopsticks. 

You do your best to maintain conversation with the others. After a while, once you’re used to the weight of Haechan’s hand on your thigh and the press of his fingers along the sensitive skin of your bare upper thigh, conversation and concentration get a little easier. You eat and laugh and talk with your friends all while Haechan’s fingers roam higher. 

It’s only once the food on the table is dwindling, once Haechan has eaten his fill apparently, that he turns his focus back to teasing you properly. 

He’s in the middle of talking to Xiaojun about some culinary festival. His fingers slide higher than they’ve been yet, brushing the soft edge of your panties. 

You choke a little on your food, and his fingers withdraw for a moment as attention around the table turns to you. 

“I’m fine.” You cough, reaching for your glass, gulping it down quickly to cool the heat consuming you. 

Xiaojun resumes talking. Haechan’s fingers return to your panties, slower this time and accompanied by a glance to the side from him. Checking with you. 

You slide your hand down to his again, giving him a nod of approval, and applying a little pressure to get his hand moving again. 

The corner of his lips turn up in a barely-suppressed smile. 

The smile grows when his fingers brush along the center of your panties, and he finds them damp. You try to steady your breathing, try not to lean into Haechan as he circles his middle finger over your clit, as he strokes along your slit over your panties, working you up, making you wetter. 

You lean back against the cushioned back of the booth, shoulders pressed into the corner. 

Your hand shakes when you lift your glass to your lips. You hope no one notices. You hope no one notices the attempt you make at taking a steadying breath. Pray no one notices that your eyes are growing distant, your face warm, your posture dissolving.

Haechan eases his fingers inside your panties, and you slide a little lower in your seat to spread your legs just a bit wider. 

You’re reminded of that first time with Renjun. This is a very similar set of people, but this time you don’t have to stare longingly across the room at Haechan’s thighs. Now you’re able to drop a hand to his lap, your hand curving over his gorgeous thighs wrapped snug in his suit pants. You don’t touch him — not in the way that he’s touching you, anyway — just leave your hand there on his thigh, fingernails dragging over the material of his pants as he slides his long, middle finger into your core. 

How he does this so smoothly, so casually, showing nothing at all on his face…. You don’t understand. 

You’re shaking. You’re blushing. 

You’re an exhibitionist, but tonight Haechan has you blushing like a virgin. 

Luckily, the others are pretty much distracted. They don’t notice when you thump your head to the side against the wall, when you lower your gaze to your lap to watch the indecent bulge beneath your skirt as Haechan starts moving, thrusting first the one finger, and then as he adds a second. 

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making a sound, though Haechan keeps glancing your way as if hoping to catch your lips parted around a silent moan. 

If anyone does look over at you while you’re utterly distracted, then they probably just assume you’ve hit your limit in alcohol. You’re flushed and your eyes are looking a little glazed. You look like you’re about to fall asleep leaning against the wall with your head angled down like that. 

Truly you’re a hot fucking mess. Your upper inner thighs feel slick with arousal. You’re sweating behind your knees, the back of your neck, under your arms. It’s taking everything in you to not just throw caution to the wind entirely, to haul yourself into Haechan’s lap, to kiss him and ride him right here at the table in front of your friends. 

That thought ignites a new level of heat inside you. 

You remember talking about something like that once with Renjun. Imagining cockwarming him in front of your friends. He’d not been too sure about it, but that had been at the start of whatever it was you’d been doing. 

A little sound slips out between your lips. 

Haechan looks at you, his mouth twisting with amusement, teasing words right on the tip of his tongue. 

You grip his thigh, nails biting into his leg even through the pants. Whatever words he was going to say, he swallows down, just watching you eagerly as he fills you again and again with his fingers. Neither of you pay any attention to your friends around the table, each of you too focused on the same goal: your orgasm. 

When it hits, you just close your eyes and ride it out on Haechan’s fingers. The waves of pleasure pulse through you, and you can feel the way that you’re soaking his fingers, the way he keeps pressing in for more and more, until finally you move your hand from his thigh to push his hand away from in between yours. Wetness drips against your thigh as he removes his fingers. You may have squirted just a little bit, and judging by the heat in Haechan’s gaze, he liked it. 

“Need some water?” He asks, voice just loud enough for the others to barely catch it. “Something to sober you up a bit?”

With his clean hand, Haechan pushes a glass of water towards you, the sides of it dripping with condensation. Gladly, you accept it, gulping down a few mouthfuls of icy water before you press the cool glass to your cheek. When you open your eyes, you make eye contact with Xiaojun. 

His gaze flicks away to Haechan, then back to you before he returns his attention to YangYang who’s in the middle of some dramatic retelling of a sleaze from the club the other night. Just once more, Xiaojun glances your way, and you can’t help wondering if he’d noticed. He’s seen you orgasm before, never in public, but he’s no stranger to it. 

You wonder if he’s told his girlfriend that you used to hook up? 

Before you can pay much more thought to that matter, Haechan brings his hand up from beneath the table. While everyone else is hanging on every word of YangYang’s story, Haechan builds himself a little perilla leaf wrap. You watch him, only barely listening to YangYang, more interested in the way that Haechan fingers glisten with your wetness as he holds the perilla leaf to fill it. 

He catches your eye as he bundles the leaf around the filling, and then he all but shoves the entire thing into his mouth. Including his fingers. 

It’s lascivious the way that he basically sucks his fingers clean of your wetness. The way that even after he’s pulled them out, he waits until he’s finished chewing and swallowing the perilla leaf wrap, and then he licks each of his fingers. 

When Chenle eyes him with a mildly disgusted face, Haechan just shrugs. “What? When you’re eating, don’t you know the juice is the best part?”

“I wouldn’t lick my greasy fingers in public like that,” Chenle responds, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, well, there’s lots of things people shouldn’t do in public.” Haechan smirks and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

You sit your glass down and lean forward against the table, resting your hand on his leg beneath the table. “You’re interrupting YangYang’s story. Be quiet, Lee Haechan.”

The rest of the night doesn’t last long. YangYang has to go to work, so he just catches a taxi to take him there. Xiaojun and his girlfriend decide to go check out a restaurant of one of his culinary friends for dessert a short distance away. 

“How’re you getting home?” Haechan asks after you’ve all paid and the others have begun to head their own ways. “I know you’re not drunk, but I think you’ve had too much to safely drive yourself.”

Outside, the cool night air brushes against your warm cheeks. You know he’s right. You were drinking quite a bit earlier, and driving wouldn’t be safe. 

“You can take me.” You grab for his arm. “My car is right there. You can just drive me home.”

“Chenle did quick work on Mr. Moon’s car earlier. I have to return it to the parking garage at work. I can’t do both.” Haechan leans against the wall outside the restaurant, looking at you. You can’t help smiling, can’t help gravitating towards him. 

“I can drive.”

You turn around, almost surprised to see Renjun there. His hands are in his pockets, and he even looks a little surprised too. 

“I can drive you home,” he says to you. “I haven’t had anything to drink in the past couple hours. I can take you. Plus, it’s been a little while since we got to talk, just the two of us.”

You nod. “My car is right here.” You point across the street to where your car sits like a piece of garbage behind Mr. Moon’s fancy BMW. Your keys are in your purse, and it takes you a minute of rummaging around to find them, but once you do, you drop them into Renjun’s waiting hand. “And here’re the keys.”

Haechan knocks into your other hand, his knuckles skimming along the back of your hand. “Let me know when you get home, okay? Both of you.”

You’re quite tempted to kiss him goodnight. To drape your arms over Haechan’s shoulders, to taste the saltiness of the samgyeopsal, the sweetness of the soda he’d been drinking too. 

He taps a finger against your forehead. “Don’t fall asleep before you get home. Renjun won’t carry you to bed.”

Renjun laughs. “I could.”

You’re not blind to the look that Haechan shoots at Renjun. A sharp look. A curse embedded in there. The threat that spells out that Renjun had better not even try. 

Wordlessly, Renjun unlocks your car, and with a loud groan (from the car, not from him), he opens the door on the passenger side for you. You slide in, and Haechan fills the open door, fitting himself in between the door and the body of the car, a hand on each one as he looks down at you. 

“Text me once you’re home.” His voice is a gentle command. Your heart warms, and you nod. 

“Goodnight, Haechan.”

The driver’s side door of your car squeals open, and Renjun drops himself into the seat. 

Haechan steps back, closing the door for you, and he just waits there on the sidewalk, watching as Renjun starts the car, as you both buckle in, as Renjun pulls away from the curb. You wave, and Haechan waves back, watching you go. 

You’re still watching him shrink in the reflection of the side mirror when Renjun starts laughing. You look over at him. “What?”

“So you finally succeeded? That’s happening?” He laughs, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You fold your arms, checking the mirror again, but Haechan is too far now for you to be able to see him anymore. 

Renjun waits a moment, during which the quiet sound of a turn signal is all that fills the silence. And then, “I’m not blind. Maybe the others were somehow oblivious, but I was sitting right beside Haechan all night. Also, I’ve fingered you around our friends before, I can see the signs.”

“Shut up. You couldn’t tell.” You shoot a look over at him, but he stays focused on the road. 

“Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, you just confirmed it for me.” He smiles, sending a short glance over at you before he looks ahead again. “You were too squirmy, and there was a long time that Haechan only had one hand above the table. Guess you found your perfect match in him, didn’t you? Lucky, since you’ve had that crush on him for so long.”

You sigh, tipping your head against the window. “He’s gross, Renjun. A real pervert.” You say those words as if they are compliments, as if you’re calling him dreamy, a real prince.

Renjun makes a noise on the other side of the car, and you’re not sure if it’s disgust or one of intrigue.

“I love it, honestly.” You twist your head to the side. Renjun’s profile is outlined by streetlights in pale amber. “We talked one night recently, and everything came out into the open. The things I’ve done, things he’s done. He’s so much worse than I am.”

Renjun tilts his head. “How? You were constantly begging me to fuck you somewhere public. How could he be worse than that?” He doesn’t say it with any vitriol, but rather like he’s teasing you. You know Renjun was just as eager to do everything as you were.

“He’s been watching people for a long time. I won’t give you all of the details, but did you know that when he went through your phone while we were all in Thailand, he sent himself videos from your camera roll?” 

That makes Renjun’s head finally turn to look at you fully. Luckily you’re stopped at a red light already, so he runs no risk of rear-ending anyone. “He what?”

“It’s just one of the confessions he told me. He didn’t show me them, just told me about them.” You shiver a little with delight as you recall, “He told me that his favorite one is the first one we filmed together, me riding you in my car. And he doesn’t even know that it’s me; I haven’t told him that yet.” You laugh, resting your cheek again on the cool window. “He also said that he wasn’t asleep that final night in Thailand when we messed around right there beside him. He’s a little perv, Renjun, watching us and all of our friends too. It’s just… gross, but I can’t explain it. I like it.”

Now he laughs too. “You’re both gross. I should’ve known that about him. After he spent months crashing on our sofa at school because his roommate caught him being a chronic masturbator.” He shakes his head. “Maybe caught isn’t even the right word.”

You laugh too, but your mind is filled with the vivid imagery of the video Haechan had sent you earlier. His fingers wrapped around his cock. Cum dripping pearly white down his fingers. Your laugh tapers off into a sigh. 

“I’m happy for you,” Renjun says after driving a few moments in silence. “For you and Haechan.”

“I’m not so sure there is a Me and Haechan yet. We just talked. We’ve kissed.” Your heart flutters in your chest, wishing you’d have kissed him goodnight. “He’s sent me a few videos, and we talk of course, and then there was tonight. But we haven’t, like, talked and we haven’t gone on a date or actually had sex. I want it to be a proper thing, not like what you and I did, and not like what Xiaojun and I did.”

“Trust me,” Renjun shares, “The way Haechan looks at you, the way he treats you… he likes you. Genuinely and completely, and both of you are fools if either of you let the other get away. I’ve known him longer than you, and I’ve never seen him the way he gets with you; and he’s been that way for a while now, honestly. When I talk with him, you always come up inevitably, in some way he always twists conversation to mention your name, to tell a funny story or to praise something that you did at work. And he’s always been, like, protective of you, whether you noticed it or not. I don’t think you need to worry about it not becoming a proper thing.”

When Renjun drops you off at your apartment door, you’re left with a lot more than just the car keys that he returns to you. Your mind and chest are buzzing thinking about what you’d talked about in the car. 

You want to call Haechan as soon as you’re inside. You want to hear his voice. You want to tell him that you like him too, because it’s only now that you’ve been mulling over Renjun’s words that you remember that Haechan had confessed the night you first kissed. He’d whispered an “I like you” after you kissed on the street, and you’d been too busy reeling him back in for another kiss to tell him that you like him too. 

You decide maybe you’re still a little tipsy, and maybe you should wait to call him and confess that you like him too until you’re in a clear state of mind. 

So instead of calling him, you just send him the confirmation message that you got home safely. 

And he calls you. 

He’s still driving, returning the car to the parking garage at the office. You talk to him when he’s returning the car, when he’s riding the elevator up to the Moon Corporation’s offices, as he drops the key and the credit card off in Mr. Moon’s office. You keep talking, just keeping him company, as he leaves and rides a cab back to his place. You keep talking to him as you go through your bedtime routine — brushing your teeth, washing your face, using the toilet, changing out of your clothes. 

“I’m home now.” Haechan yawns in your ear after a while. “It’s been a long day.” 

“It’s been a long everything.” You sigh, sinking into your bed. “About earlier, at the restaurant….”

Haechan hums quietly on his end of the line, and you can hear him close a door, sit his phone down, and from the way sounds are more distant and slightly echoier, you assume he put you on speakerphone. 

“I really enjoyed that.” You stare up at your ceiling, fighting the blush that rises to your cheeks, the heat that flares in your belly as you remember the feel of his fingers — Haechan’s fingers! — against your thighs and inside you, pulling you apart so easily. 

“Me too,” he admits. “Though I would rather have had you spread out on that table so I could get a proper taste of you. The little licks I got off my fingers weren't enough.”

You have to bite back a whimper at the mental image he’s painted. “Haechan… I—I still haven’t gotten to touch you. Or taste you. I feel like I’m at a disadvantage again.”

His voice sounds distant from the phone when he says, “I guess we’d better remedy that, angel. But there’s one thing I need you to do for me before you can get a taste.”

“Hm?” Your heart is racing. 

“Go on a date with me. A real date. Dinner and talking, maybe a movie. Dessert.” Haechan’s voice draws nearer again, and then suddenly you can tell he’s scooped his phone back up, that he’s holding it to his face. “I want to be wined and dined before you have your way with me, babe.”

That makes you laugh. But you quickly agree. 

“A date. Name your time and place, Haechan.”

The smile in his voice is clear when he promises, “I’ll get back to you on that. Goodnight.” 

You haven’t felt so giddy at the idea of a date in a long, long time. How are you meant to fall asleep right now?

“Goodnight, Lee Donghyuck.”

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a/n: not quite the full thing, but they've finally!! at last!! done something with each other! they're building up towards it lol which I'm sure is torture for all of you who've been dying for them to fuck, but it's coming! I swear!

[sharksandstars]

Season 4 of TUA is terrible so far??

I have a lot of opinions on season 4 and I fear most of them aren't great. I watched the first and second episodes fully and briefly skimmed over the rest (yes, I plan to watch them fully!) and so far I can't say I'm a fan. I have to address the elephant in the room: Five and Lila. In my opinion, it was a terrible decision and it felt like the writers were just trying to put in the craziest thing they could think of. And on top of that, it really feels like the way they executed was like a really shitty Wattpad fanfiction. I mean, there were like 6 scenes where they were living in domestic bliss??? Hey, so that is weird by the way! I have so many issues with their relationship... first of all, the age gap between the actors. Aidan Gallagher is 20 years old while Ritu Arya is 35 years old. I'd be surprised if they didn't feel weird while filming. Secondly, Five and Lila would not fall in love. I understand enemies to lovers is a genre and it's not inherently bad but with Five and Lila it felt like their resentment was far too deep-rooted. I've also seen a lot of posts about this and it seems like everyone is in agreement that it's weird and gross, and it doesn't make sense! Knowing this, I do understand that being stranded in a strange subway timeline thing for 7 years can be a less-than-stellar experience. Lila's marriage was already rough, but they really just needed some couples counseling and they'd be fine. I'd also like to argue that Five realistically wanted to feel love since he had never truly felt it unless you want to count Delores. But again, mentioning my previous points, it seems incredibly out of character for Lila and Five to betray Diego like that. I'm not entirely sure what the writers were thinking. As for the rest of the characters, I was happy to see them living regular lives. I unfortunately don't think season 4 was as good as any of the other seasons despite this, which makes me incredibly sad. Season 1 was fantastic, season 2 really picked up, season 3 was alright but enjoyable, and I really expected Season 4 to bring it all home, but so far, it hasn't in my opinion. I don't think it would have been better to just cancel the show after season 3 because I'm not the biggest fan of ambiguous endings. I also have an issue with the duration of the season: 6 episodes don't feel like enough. A series finale shouldn't have only 6 episodes, especially since all of the other seasons had 10 episodes. I just feel like they could have done more with it and it's really unfortunate that this series ran for so long and built up such an incredible story only for it to kind of... fall off. Also, just furthering my argument with Five and Lila here, Five killed her parents when he worked for The Commission. Which led to Lila hating him and trying to KILL HIM MULTIPLE TIMES. The writers must have gotten a lobotomy between seasons 3 and 4. Leave me your thoughts so far. I'll make another post when I finish it.

(Edit: I posted this on Reddit as well)