#just when i was really getting into the series

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Actually, I think this does link in with a wider conversation that I have been thinking for a while Tumblr maybe needs to hear.

There's a common meme on this site now that no one here has any reading comprehension skills. The best one is, of course, the original "No offense but reading comprehension on this site is piss poor/How dare you say we piss on the poor" post, which gave rise to the nickname "pissing-on-the-poor website". There's also the "I like pancakes/How dare you say waffles are terrible" one. Both of these are great, because they're silly jokey ways to show two closely related phenomena that are probably the commonest ways to fail a reading comprehension check.

The first is someone reading certain catchphrases or buzzwords in the post, and based on their own biases or prior experiences or whatever else, their brain simply fills in what it reckons the poster is saying on the topic. Instead of reading the rest of the sentence and digesting it, the reader then just uses their assumption as the interpretation, and reacts to that.

The second is closely related, because it also uses biases and prior experiences to to interpret the post, but rather than ignoring what the OP is actually saying, it instead performs a series of gymnastic leaps to construct a whole new assertion on the OP's behalf that simply isn't there.

There's also a third, of course; that one is people being so eager to feel smug and superior over someone they perceive as Bad that they wilfully assume the OP is stupid or being serious when they're actually joking. And if the reader hadn't been so blinded by their desire to get to look down on someone, they'd have seen the very obvious tells, sometimes even including sentences like "Obviously this is a joke." (I think we have all seen examples of these. Also, in a bid to avoid as many reading comprehension fails here as possible, this does not include misunderstandings borne entirely of neurodiverse struggles to parse intentions; but, neurodiverse people are just as likely as neurotypicals to have ego play a part in their misinterpretation of others, and that is what this point is about.)

And the thing is... actually, we are all capable of any of these. I imagine a sizable chunk of people reading until this point were probably thinking "Lol, yeah, people are so stupid," but na, nage, I'm not having that. Literally everyone does these sometimes. And it becomes a particular risk when the topic under discussion is something that might brush against an issue that is a pressure point for you, like a social justice talking point that you are forever having to argue with internet strangers about, for example. Your brain holds schemas! And sometimes it likes to pattern match things before it deigns to tell you about its findings! And that can hit you right in the emotions, which if they are strong enough, really can shut down all rational thought.

But. This brings me to the real point of the post.

Because the thing is, we have all saddled up and gone to war under these conditions, or at the very least been strongly tempted to. And a vital skill that literally everyone has to learn, sooner or later, is:

Before you hit 'reply', double check the post to make sure you fucking understood it.

And that does not mean "simply re-read, confirm your bias, carry on." It means, "Is it possible to read this post from the point of view of someone who doesn't intend it the way I've taken it? If I put myself in the shoes of an innocent, could they still have written these words? Is there another interpretation for these phrases?"

And you do have to do this step. You simply do have to. Because if your desire is to 'clap back' and call someone a gargling knobskin made of garbage, fuck me sideways but you must see that it is imperative that you check if they actually deserve that kind of treatment first. You cannot spend your time claiming that we must all choose to be kind and then not bother doing your due diligence before screaming a person's various and assorted bigotries at them. If you misread it, and they were innocent - you are the raging aggressive cunt in this situation.

It does not matter that you reacted from an emotional place of normally having to defend yourself either, by the way. Sure, that makes the quality of your human soul better than that of the average Redditor who just enjoys anonymously hurting people, I guess? But it's also irrelevant. If you messaged someone and called them a misogynist because you performed several mental somersaults and landed on your own sore spot when they meant no such thing, you are the attacker. You owe them an apology. And yeah, sure, you can explain your over-reaction as the product of your normal experiences if you like, but that is only an explanation, not an excuse. You are still the asshole here. You still need to apologise and mean it.

And you could have avoided it if you'd done that due diligence, as you should have. If you're going to take a swing, make sure it's the right target. This was once described to me as donkey people - they don't think, they just kick. This is admittedly a little unkind to donkeys, who always do their due diligence, but I feel it's an apt metaphor.

TL;DR: If you feel moved to angrily reply to something, first make sure you've interpreted it right. Don't be a donkey person. And if you ask for clarification, people are innocent until proven guilty. Ask nicely. If they are a bigot, you can then smelt them for parts.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

home for the holidays (part two) - r.c.

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️ (part one here!)

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

(taglist for this series is closed. please see author's notes at the end of the chapter for important info about the taglist!)

Somewhere between his house and yours it dawned on Rafe, much to his annoyance, that he had a big, stupid crush on you.

He tried everything to suppress it. He reminded himself that you didn't like him, that you probably thought you were better than him. He reminded himself how stupid it’d be to get attached to someone only a few months before graduation. 

Jesus, really man? He thought. She’s not your type, Rafe. She hates you. Be a fucking man and pull it together.

But it was the way you were perched in the driver’s seat, scooted all the way forward leaving no room between you and the wheel, smiling as you sang along to Mariah Carey. You looked so soft and cute, the sleeves of his hoodie slipping over your hands as they clutched the steering wheel.

Fuck, he definitely had a crush on you, and he hated having a crush. There was way too much room for rejection. This was one area in which he’d never really grown up, so he opted for his usual defense mechanism - pushing your buttons, like he was ten years old on the playground, pulling your pigtail just to get a reaction.

“So was I right about you not having many hookups in college?” He blurted out sometime during the third play of All I Want for Christmas is You.

Your head snapped toward him, complete confusion and not even a smidge of amusement on your face.

“What the fuck?” You grumbled. “That’s kinda personal, actually…”

“I’m just saying, I’ve never seen you at parties, and you don’t seem to have a boyfriend. Four years is a long time…”

“Everything is about sex with you, huh? Some of us are actually in college to learn,” you scolded him. It was his intention to push you away, and yet the repulsion in your voice still stung.

“Alright, I’ll stop asking,” he conceded.

“Good,” you huffed, shoulders slumping a little.

He looked over at you every so often, determined to find a flaw, some blemish or ick that he could use as a dealbreaker. This plan backfired terribly, his eyes only discovering more pretty features and cute little mannerisms that made his stomach leap every time he looked at you. He felt like a moth, brainless and hopelessly drawn to the warm light of a lamp that was sure to zap him dead at the slightest touch.

After twenty minutes of freezing him out for his “no hookups” comment, you gasped and excitedly pointed out the first of many road signs for your hometown, your annoyance with him replaced with excitement as the signs advertised you were getting closer and closer to home. 

Then you finally gave him something to resent you for. After a remark about how excited you were to see your family, you looked over at him with big, kind eyes, nervously broaching the topic with a light touch on his arm, “I’m sorry about your family leaving you behind. That totally sucks.”

There was a softness in your tone that was so warm and inviting it made him want to jump out of the moving car. He knew he was fucked up for being mad that you were being nice, but he couldn’t help it, the tenderness in your gaze made him feel like a wounded puppy, and he hated your pity.

He pulled his arm away from your gentle fingers like they’d hurt him.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. “They didn’t leave me, it was just a miscommunication.”

You withdrew in more ways than one, pulling your hand back and falling awkwardly silent. Rafe kicked himself mentally, of course just when you’d started to come around to him, he pushed you away. Little did those girls in your dorm know, that was the true Rafe Cameron special.

“So, uh, you were saying something about presents for your brothers? How old are they?” He asked, praying he hadn’t made you shut down for good, trying to re-stoke the fires of the friendship you had been building since you offered for him to come home with you.

You were chewing on your nails, picking at the dead skin nervously. At his prompting you started to speak again, though a bit less enthusiastically than before he’d shut you down.

“Uhm, well,” you sat up a little. “There’s Luke, he’s sixteen. And then Reese is thirteen and Bennett is ten.”

“Fun ages,” he nodded, wincing at his cliché words.

“They are fun,” you nodded, a smile returning to your lips at the thought of your little brothers. The sight of you smiling again soothed the ache in his chest and he leaned back into his seat, full of relief.

“Luke is such a teenage boy, too cool for everything. I got him some Nike cleats because he plays football, he’ll pretend he doesn’t like them but I think he’ll wear them. And Reese is quieter, he’s always been a bit more sensitive. He wants to be a photographer, so I got him a vintage Polaroid camera. Benny was the easiest to shop for,” you smiled at the thought of your baby brother, Rafe could tell you had a special love for him. “I got him one of those giant gummy bears that comes in its own plastic case. It cost a fraction of what I spent on the other two but I guarantee you he’ll be the most excited.”

“I’m sure they’ll all like what you got them,” he assured you.

“They better, they cost me a whole paycheck,” you huffed, thinking of all the hours you’d worked slinging drinks at your college’s go-to student bar to pay for the presents that were currently sitting in your trunk.

“It’s better than what I got my sisters,” he reminded you with a laugh.

“Hey! I spent six whole dollars on those souvenirs!” You scolded him, smiling at the memory of the crappy little knick-knacks in the backseat.

“And I’m sure they’ll love them,” he agreed.

“What about your sisters? How old are they?” You asked.

Surely, you were just being polite, keeping the conversation going after he’d asked about your brothers. But he wanted nothing less than to talk about his family right now, the thought of them all hanging out at the Bahama house, completely forgetting that he existed, still stung fresh. He wondered if Sarah and Wheezie even asked his dad where he was, why he wasn’t on the plane. Maybe they were relieved to celebrate the holiday without him annoying them, he probably deserved it. 

“Hey, isn’t that your exit?” He pointed at the highway sign, advertising that the off ramp to your hometown was only half-a-mile away, trying to distract you from your question.

“Yes!” It worked, you sat up in your seat, excitedly pressing a little harder on the gas as you celebrated the proximity to home.

“Woah, slow down, I’d like to celebrate Christmas alive,” he joked as the needle on the speedometer climbed higher and higher.

“Oh shit sorry,” you giggled, pulling your foot back to slow down a little. “I’m just excited. It’s gonna be so cozy. My dad will have put a bunch of colored lights all over the front of the house, and the tree will be up, probably a fire going and Christmas music playing. I can’t wait to see them!”

His jealousy was almost debilitating. What must it be like to feel this excited to go home? To know what was waiting for you was going to bring you so much joy? He wanted what you had so badly, he was tempted to reach out and touch you just to see if he could absorb your happiness by osmosis.

The little town you called home was just as small as Rafe was picturing, if not more. Though, the tiny houses lining the main street were decked to the nines with Christmas decorations, so much merriment in such a tiny little hamlet. The further into the country you drove, green street signs giving way to rickety, hand-painted ones, the more he felt like he understood you.

You smiled at all the lights, body absolutely buzzing with each turn that brought you towards home. Finally, you turned on a long dirt road, past a field of horses Rafe recognized as the farm you said you grew up next to. Approaching a mailbox with your last name on it, your smile fell from your lips, eyebrows creasing as you turned onto the property.

At the end of the long driveway was a small little split level home Rafe surmised to be yours, only where he expected a display of twinkling christmas decor, there was only one single flickering porch light. If he hadn’t known better, he’d assume the family who lived here didn’t celebrate Christmas at all.

“What the hell?” You mumbled under your breath, concern on your face growing as you pulled the car up and parked behind an old, rusting mini-van. 

Arms full of presents, Rafe helping with your bags, you stumbled anxiously through the front door. The inside of your house was just as disappointing as the outside. It was messy, dishes on the counter and the echo of obnoxious video games ringing through the halls where there should be the familiar chatter of your family having dinner.

“Hello?” You called out, setting the presents down on the kitchen table. You peaked your head over the island, into the open space of the living room. In the far corner, where there should’ve been a Christmas tree, there was a pile of unfolded laundry. 

Two messy headed boys peered over the back of the couch, the third head not moving from its fixation on the TV as his fingers continued to click away on his controller.

“Gigs!!” The smallest one, who Rafe assumed to be Bennett, shouted, he and the second smallest, who he identified as Reese, rose from the couch and made their way towards you.

“Gigs?” Rafe repeated under his breath.

“As in Giggles. It’s my childhood nickname,” you explained, and when you saw his teasing smirk added, “shut up.”

Reese and Bennett nearly tackled you, colliding into you with little bear hugs. Reese was nearing your height, though not quite there yet, and Bennett was small but stocky, his chubby arms squeezing the air from your lungs.

“Rice and beans!” You sang affectionately as you returned their hugs, messing up their hair and pinching their cheeks. You looked to Rafe to answer the question you could see already forming on his lips, “rice and beans, as in Reese and Bennett, their nicknames.”

He smiled at your affectionate embrace with your brothers, nodding with a little, “ah.” Something in him ached, like a haunted limb, a muscle he didn’t even have that was sore from lack of use.

After several moments, Bennett pulled away, eyeing Rafe and pointing a stubby little finger right at him, “who’s he?”

Reese covered his brother’s finger, forcing his hand down correctively.

“Benny, that’s rude,” you said, unable to suppress the little chuckle at your brother’s boyish indifference.

In your concern over the state of the house, you hadn’t planned out how to explain Rafe to your brothers. ‘He’s a friend’ wasn’t totally accurate, but it was the only language they’d understand. Before you could open your mouth to explain anything, though, your youngest brother blurted out, “are you Giggy’s boyfriend?”

“Bennett Alan,” you snipped at him through gritted teeth, giving him a motherly glare as you used his full name in warning. “You’re being rude, and he is not my boyfriend.”

This was true, though Rafe wasn’t sure there was any need for the tinge of disgust in the way you said it. He could sense Bennett formulating another pot-stirring question and jumped in before he had the chance.

“I’m Rafe,” he set his bag down next to the counter and held out a hand. 

Bennett puffed out his chest, putting on his best adult voice as he shook Rafe’s hand, “I’m Bennett, my friends call me Benny.”

You and Reese gave each other knowing smirks, sharing eye rolls over your brother’s precocious antics. 

“And which should I call you?” Rafe played along with his all-business tone.

“Depends, how much money you got?”

Rafe smirked, but you were mortified. “Oh my god, Beans! You can’t ask people that. Here, make yourself useful and put these presents under the tree.”

“We don’t have one,” Reese told you, the first words Rafe had heard him speak, and by his quiet tone and the way he avoided eye contact he understood why you’d called him the sensitive one.

Rafe caught the way you allowed worry to flash across your face for only a second before you smoothed your features back into faux nonchalance, like you were putting on a show for the kids.

“Oh okay, well then I guess we’ll just leave them on the table,” you shrugged, as if you hadn’t been raving about your family’s grand Christmas trees just minutes ago.

Your eyes drifted back to the living room, where your remaining brother still hadn’t risen to greet you.

“Lukey? Help me with my bags?” 

The shaggy haired boy finally turned, eyeing Rafe with a cold distrust that felt like looking in a mirror.

“Looks like he’s already got ‘em,” he grumbled.

You gave him an authoritative glare that had much less playfulness than the one you’d given Bennett.

“Where are mom and dad?” You asked Reese in a hushed tone, shielding the question from Bennett, who was busy dragging a chair over from the kitchen table.

“It’s Thursday,” Reese responded, giving you a knowing look like you should know what that meant. When you clearly didn’t, he added, “chemo day,” in a whisper so quiet Rafe could barely hear it. “Mom’s been asleep since they got back and dad had to work the evening shift.”

Rafe did hear though, and your eyes flicked to him quickly with a vulnerability he hadn’t seen from you yet, like he somehow had something to hold over your head now. He wanted to say the exact right thing to put you at ease, to let you know your family’s business was safe with him. As he was formulating the words, Benny was climbing up on the chair he’d dragged over, standing directly between you and Rafe.

“How tall are you?” Benny asked Rafe once he could meet his eyeline.

“Uhm,” Rafe cleared his throat, pulled from the moment, “I’m 6 '2.”

“I’m 4 foot 1 and three quarters,” Benny explained, as though if this were a competition, he was just a few points behind Rafe, and gaining.

“Nice! 4 '1 is very respectable,” Rafe smiled, deciding it was best to be on Benny’s good side.

“And three quarters,” Benny corrected through gritted teeth.

“Right, sorry, and three quarters,” Rafe put his hands up in defense.

Benny crossed his arms and gave Rafe a once over, as if he was the man of the house deciding if he was allowed to stay. 

Sensing your brother was about to say some other rude thing to embarass you, you stepped in, “Benny why don’t you go show our guest where we keep the air mattress,” you grabbed him off the chair and lowered him to the ground with some difficulty, “and be nice,” you added in his ear.

Benny obeyed but gave Rafe narrow, suspicious eyes the whole way down the hall.

“There’s like a thirty percent chance Benny tries to fight him,” Reese noted as the two of you watched them go.

You chuckled, settling on the couch between your two brothers.

“So who is he really?” Luke asked, still not pausing his video game but at least acknowledging your existence. 

“He’s just a guy from school,” you shrugged. “He’s Brody’s friend.”

“Is Brody here?” Reese asked hopefully. You and Brody had been friends your whole childhoods, and your brother’s were always big fans.

“No, he had an internship or something, but I’d already told Rafe I’d give him a ride, and when we got to his house his family was just, like, gone,” you explained. “They went on a trip and didn’t even tell him.”

“Yikes,” Luke said. “That’s shitty.”

“Language,” you scolded, making him roll his eyes. “But yes, it is shitty,” you added, making him smirk. 

“He’s like Kevin from Home Alone,” Reese quipped. All three of you laughed.

“Honestly? It was kind of exactly like that, only sadder. Like a lost puppy. I mean, who just forgets their kid?” You lowered your voice a bit, hoping it wouldn’t carry down the hall. “I felt so awkward I didn’t know what to do so I said he could come here.”

Your brothers seemed satisfied with your explanation. Even though nothing you said was technically untrue, you still felt like you were somehow being dishonest. You’d never admit it, but it wasn’t all out of pity, there was some small part of you that wanted to bring Rafe home, that was intrigued by him and wanted to see more. But there was no way to explain that to two teenage boys, so you settled for the Home Alone excuse.

Benny came back around the corner, leaping onto the couch and nearly knocking over Luke’s soda.

“Beans, chill,” Luke groaned as he narrowly caught his Mountain Dew before it spilled all over the coffee table.

“Where’s Rafe?” You asked Benny, looking around to see if he’d followed your brother back out.

“He said to tell you he’s going to bed, he seemed kinda grumpy,” Benny shrugged, stealing Luke’s soda when he wasn’t paying attention and taking a swig.

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide the hint of disappointment in your voice. “Okay.”

Down the hall, Rafe snuck quietly into the laundry room as the fading voices of you and your brothers were drowned out by the sound of the water heater, which sat in the cramped space right next to the air mattress Benny had helped him set up.

Your voice echoed in his head, ‘I felt so awkward I didn’t know what to do.’ 

So it was a pity invite. You saw him as some sad character from a 90s movie, not an actual companion you wanted to spend the holiday with. 

He settled on the uncomfortable inflatable mattress. He was in a house full of people, and yet he was beginning to think he might actually feel less lonely all by himself in Tannyhill.

Up before the sun, out the door before breakfast’s done; that’s the way your dad had been your whole life, working a string of manual labor, blue collar jobs that meant he was usually gone before you woke up.

This morning however, you were determined to talk to him before he left, to confront him about the complete lack of Christmas you’d found at your homecoming. You set your alarm at an ungodly hour so you could wait for him to come down the stairs.

Hunched over the counter by the brewing coffee pot, you ran your hands over your face. Your holiday homecoming was nothing like you imagined, the biggest surprise of all being the person you came home with, but you’d figure out how to broach that subject later.

“Hi Gigs.” Your dad’s footsteps were so quiet, you hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen. When you turned to meet him, he flashed you a tired grin.

He’d gotten home after you went to sleep last night, this was the first you’d seen him since your anticlimactic arrival. He looked more exhausted than you ever remembered seeing him. Even more tired than after Bennett was born and he had colic for six months.

“Hi dad,” you approached and gave him a hug before returning to the coffee pot to pour some for him in a travel mug.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

“A lot on my mind,” you said, turning to face him. “Made you some coffee. If you stay and talk to me I might just be persuaded to make you breakfast.”

Your dad slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, pulling on and lacing up his heavy work boots.

“No time for breakfast,” he waved you off. “You know that.”

“Dad, what’s going on?” You asked, knowing your window to get answers was closing quickly.

But he didn’t answer, he just sighed heavily and shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

“Just not a breakfast guy that’s all,” he joked. You knew he knew that’s not what you meant.

“You didn’t even hang any lights,” you mumbled softly, feeling a bit childish. “And there’s no tree.”

Your dad sighed again. You wondered if there was a record for how many times someone could sigh in one conversation.

“I’ve been working double shifts, there just hasn’t been time. I’m sorry,” he shrugged. “It’s been a long year, kid.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s gotten so bad? I would’ve come back sooner,” you said, pulling a side eye from him that you read as: and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.

“I don’t know, why didn’t you tell me about the frat boy in the laundry room?” He countered.

‘Oh, right,” you blushed, feeling like when you were twelve and he found you hiding a stray cat in the garage. “Was gonna mention him but, you know, you were working.”

“Could’ve told me you were bringing your boyfriend home,” he scolded you.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you rushed to explain. “He’s Brody’s friend. He needed a place to crash.”

“Ah, Brody’s friend. That makes me feel so much better,” he rolled his eyes. 

Your dad was never a fan of Brody, too much of a ‘knucklehead’ as he called him. You knew Rafe wouldn’t fare much better in your dad’s good graces, no guy you liked ever did. Not that you liked Rafe. Fuck, your blush was getting deeper. You quickly looked down at your feet, hoping your dad wouldn’t notice. 

Luckily, he was too tired to read your facial expressions, he huffed as he rose from his chair and approached you, digging in his pocket for some cash. “Here, grab a tree and some gifts for the boys -”

“You haven’t even gotten them gifts yet?” You sighed.

“I know, I know,” he nodded, his baggy, tired eyes begging you for a little slack. You’d never seen him look so tired, sympathy overpowering your disappointment. “I’m trying here, gigs.”

“I got it,” you gave him a small, dutiful smile and pocketed the cash.

“I knew you would,” he gave you a side hug and accepted the travel mug of coffee you handed him. “I’m sorry things aren’t exactly what you expected. but I am glad you’re home.”

As he slipped out the front door into the chilly dusk, your mind spiraled. You knew your mom was having a rough patch with her breast cancer, but you had no idea it’d gotten this bad. No Christmas was simply not an option, maybe things would never go back to normal for you, or your parents, but that was adulthood wasn’t it? Your brothers shouldn’t have to grow up just yet, and you’d make sure they didn’t.

Everything felt wrong, off kilter in a way that made your stomach twist with the familiar anxiety that comes with any situation you can’t control. So you did what you always do when things feel uncertain; you made a list.

Pulling a notebook from the kitchen junk drawer, you uncapped a pen and quickly scribbled everything you could think of that needed to be done:

Decorations 

⇢ box in garage? lights working?

Presents for the boys 

⇢ wishlists? budget??

Buy and decorate tree 

 ⇢ Douglas Fir? tree lots still open?

Under each item you scribbled all the steps you could think of, as well as any conflicts you might hit along the way. Maybe if you could just work the problem, you could fix this, save Christmas and by extension, your family.

You eyed the empty checkboxes next to each item with worry. If you were going to pull all of this off in just two days, you’d need to call in some reinforcements. 

The door to the laundry room squeaks if you open it slowly, which you did deliberately, milking it for all the disruptive sound it’s worth. Rafe was sprawled out on the air mattress, which had deflated just a bit in his sleep, making his legs stick up in the air a little higher than his upper body. 

He was snoring away, just like he had in the car, your noisy opening of the door not doing what you’d hoped it would. 

You sighed loudly, he didn’t stir. You cleared your throat, still nothing. You coughed theatrically, he was still out cold.

Finally, you opened the lid to the washing machine, taking off one sock and dropping it in, letting the heavy metal lid slam closed as you started a rinse cycle. At the crash, Rafe shot up, nearly falling off the air mattress.

“Oh good, you’re up!” You chirped, as if you hadn’t caused the sudden awakening.

“What the hell are you doing?” He grumbled at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair stuck up at all angles and he squinted, barely able to open his eyes in his exhaustion. You gave yourself one second to think about how cute he looked before redirecting your focus to the reason you were in here.

“Just doing some laundry,” you told him as he reached around in the dimly lit room for his phone. “But since you’re awake...”

“What time is it?” He slurred, still half asleep.

“I dunno probably like 9,” you shrugged, knowing full well that wasn’t the case.

“I can’t find my phone,” he sunk back into the mattress, making like he was going to go back to sleep. That wouldn’t do.

“Oh, here!” You flicked on the fluorescent overhead light, making him wince and pull the covers over his head.

“Gah! Turn them off please!” He cried out, voice muffled from under the blankets.

“It’s time to get up, we have a big day ahead of us,” you walked over to the mattress, kicking it to jostle him around on the half-inflated plastic.

“I’m on vacation,” he protested. 

“Yes, exactly, Christmas vacation,” you walked around to the end of the bed, grabbing the covers in two hands and pulling them from his body, making him groan and curl up in the cold air like a rolly polly bug. “We have Christmas things to do.”

You tried not to notice the sculpted arms revealed by his grey tank top, and you really tried not to notice how the thin material of his flannel pajama pants was leaving very little to the imagination. He looked up after a moment, blinking his eyes open to catch you staring, his lips twisting in a cocky grin. He opened his mouth to say something smug and flirtatious, but before he could, his eyes caught the clock on the wall behind you.

“It’s 6am?!” He yelled.

“Oh is it?” You laughed, no longer trying to hide your scheme. “My bad, 6s and 9s look the same to me.”

Swiftly, Rafe stretched out his long leg, hooking his foot behind your knee and pulling you toward him, sweeping you off your feet and onto the mattress. A sharp “oof!” left your lips and as you crashed down onto what little air was left in the mattress to catch you. Landing hard, you immediately slid towards him, your body settling square on top of his.

“You wanna talk some more about 6s and 9s?” He grinned at you, his morning voice low and raspy in a way that sent goosebumps rushing up your spine.

“Ugh, you’re a pig!” You smacked him on the shoulder, pins and needles lingering in your hand where your skin had met his, and tried to push yourself up.

Wobbling on the plastic mattress, your attempts to get off of him only had you wriggling further down until your face was hovering over his. This was the closest you had ever been to him, suddenly noticing just how blue his eyes were. The glow of them under the fluorescents actually knocked the wind out of you, freezing your body in place over him as you took them in, feeling like you might drown in them if you stared too long, but letting the waves pull you under anyway.

“Morning,” he lips curved into a smile that was so handsome it almost made you forget your mission.

Grasping at your reason for coming in here like it was a lifeboat, you decided to use the compromising position you had him in to your advantage, leaning a little closer as you said, “I need you.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up in shock, was this really about to happen, right here in your parent’s laundry room?

“Oh yeah?” He flirted, muscles tensing in anticipation beneath you. “What do you need, hmm?”

“Just say yes and I’ll tell you,” you purposefully dropped your voice lower, adding a tinge of suggestion to your words to really bring it home.

“Anything,” he agreed, his mind five miles ahead of you in the wrong direction.

You sat up, straddling him, and pulled the list of tasks from your pocket.

“Great, get dressed, we’re leaving in five,” you smiled down at him, relishing the completely baffled look on his face. “We’re gonna save Christmas.”

“No, we don’t have time to stop, we gotta stick to the list,” you protested as Rafe turned the car off the road and pulled into a drive thru.

After tricking him into agreeing to help you, you’d rushed him through getting ready and out of the house, convinced the stores would be packed as soon as they opened. He dragged his feet the whole way, but somehow you’d managed to wrangle him into the car, insisting he drive so you could look through some catalogs to map out gifts for your brothers.

“If I have to be up at the asscrack of dawn, I’m getting coffee,” he shot you down.

“Okay, fine, but if we get there and all the good deals are gone, I’m blaming you,” you conceded.

You tapped your knee anxiously as the line of cars in the drive thru crawled like a herd of snails. Rafe watched your fingers strum out of the corner of his eye, noticing for the first time the way your nails were bitten down to the beds. He wasn’t paying much attention, but he was fairly sure they weren’t that messed up yesterday.

“What do you want to order?” He asked, unsure why but suddenly only caring about finding a way to distract you.

Without needing to look at the menu, you recited, “venti blonde americano with two extra shots of espresso and a splash, like a really small splash, of oat milk. Actually no oatmilk. And four shots.”

Rafe blinked back at you, your fidgety fingers lifted to your lips as you chewed on your cuticles.

Pulling up to the speaker, he leaned in and said, “yeah grande black coffee for me, and uh, a tall green tea please.”

“That is not what I ordered!” you snipped as he pulled forward to the first window.

“Yeah, I’m cutting you off,” he explained. “If I let you have any more caffeine, you won’t have any fingernails left.”

You dropped your hand quickly, surprised that he had noticed. You were miffed that he was denying you your coffee, but he was probably right. You took a deep breath and sipped your tea as he drove to the first stop on your list.

Somewhere along the highway, the radio jingled the familiar first notes of All I Want For Christmas is You. You sat up, excitedly reaching to turn the volume up.

“If I have to listen to this song one more time, I swear I’m gonna drive the car off this bridge,” he groaned, his hand covering yours to stop you from making his misery louder.

“Oh my god you’re so dramatic,” you raised your eyebrows, giving in and returning your hand to your lap. “She’s the queen of Christmas!”

“Please,” he gave you a pouty lip from the driver’s seat. “It’s killing me.”

“Okay, fine,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at him. “No more Mariah Carey.”

The department store parking lot was swarming with last minute shoppers. You hated that you belonged with them, punished for procrastination. Usually you did things early and thoroughly, now people would think you were one of the careless who pushed things to the last minute. It was a silly thing to worry about, but everything seemed to worry you today. You even made Rafe exchange phone numbers with you in case one of you got lost in the crowd and you couldn’t find each other. Your mind was running wild with worst case scenarios.

Rafe found a spot far from the door, as you walked towards the store’s entrance, you flipped through the catalog you’d snatched from your parent’s junkmail.

“Okay, so I circled everything that’s similar to what’s on the boys’ lists but on clearance,” you explained to him as he grabbed a cart, not fully listening to you. “We’ve got like fifty dollars for each of them, I think we can find a couple good things.”

Once inside the door, Rafe immediately grabbed a bag of chocolates off of the stocking stuffers display.

“That’s not on the list,” you reminded him, jaw dropping when he opened the bag and started eating the candy right there in the middle of the aisle. “And you didn’t pay for that!”

“Relax,” he held the bag out to you, “have some chocolate. Get into the Christmas spirit.”

“Since when are you the expert on the ‘Christmas spirit?’” You eyed him, noticeably not accepting a piece of his stolen candy. “You just threatened to throw Mariah Carey off a bridge.”

“No, I said I was gonna throw myself off a bridge if I had to listen to her one more time,” he placed his hand over his chest as if he was proving his innocence. “Besides, one of us has to have a little joy,” he noted, tilting his head a little to emphasize his point.

He was right, you were stressing a little too much. If Rafe Cameron was out-Christmasing you, then clearly you needed an attitude adjustment. 

“You’re right,” you sighed, accepting one of his chocolates and popping it in your mouth as you looked around the store to map out your shopping plan. “Alright, aisle ten for Reese’s camera lens and then aisle four for Benny’s lego-”

Your sentence was cut short at the feeling of Rafe’s thumb on the corner of your mouth, his face cool and casual as the pad of his finger ran across your lip. Your eyes shot around, there were at least a dozen people in this section, all close enough to see him circling your mouth with his finger.

Before you could push him off, not that you really wanted to, he pulled back. You stumbled a bit, subconsciously chasing the feeling of his touch. He revealed his thumb to you, he’d collected a little glob of chocolate that had smeared around your mouth.

“You’re gonna get us caught for our little shoplifting scheme,” he joked, licking the chocolate off the pad of his thumb as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and not an incredibly sensual action for a fluorescent lit department store at 7am.

“W-we are not shoplifting,” you stammered, fighting speechlessness and praying he didn’t notice the way your cheeks were burning. “You better pay for those.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed. I’ll pay for them, I promise. But if I forget, I’m saying you took them.” He dropped the chocolates into the cart before you could protest and wheeled toward the first aisle on your list, making you scurry a bit to catch up with his long legs.

“Bastard,” you mumbled, still feeling flustered.

Somewhere between the frozen food section and the office supplies aisle, you actually started having fun. 

Your cart filled slowly, the rush you were in when you entered the store slowing with every moment that passed walking around the store with Rafe. You joked about the hideous holiday decor, and the cheesy romance novel shelf. You stood on the back of the cart as he wheeled you around, nearly taking out a display of canned goods, and got a stern warning from a stock boy that sent you both into a fit of mischievous laughter. He tried on a series of truly awful hats for you, and even let you snap a few pictures.

As you laughed and shopped together, you couldn’t help but notice the cheery looks of the older ladies that passed you in the aisles. You returned their friendly glances with a blush, wondering, though it made you feel like a silly schoolgirl, if they thought Rafe was your boyfriend.

You’d remind yourself how foolish the thought was as you checked items off your list, seeing as this was not the real Rafe Cameron. The real Rafe Cameron wouldn’t be caught dead shopping for gardening gloves and barbeque tongs for your parents, he’d rather be pregaming a party or kicking the girl from last night who’s name he’d already forgotten out of bed. 

And yet, here he was, pushing the cart while you rattled on about Christmas when you were seven when it snowed so hard the power went out, the last time you remembered actually having a white Christmas. The way he nodded along intently had you actually wondering if it could be real, if being with him could be more than just a distraction from a stressful morning.

Your thoughts spiraled even further when he stopped to point out a his and hers sweater set, one reading “naughty” and the other “nice.”

“As long as I get to be the nice one,” you smiled as he pulled the itchy wool over his head.

He leaned down to tug its partner over your head, his voice low in your ear,  “Only ‘cause I know you like it when I’m naughty.”

Butterflies did pirouettes in your stomach, you snapped a picture of the two of you in a mirror, Rafe towering over you from behind as he smiled for the camera. 

“Yeah, we’re definitely buying these,” he said, tucking the tag into your collar, his knuckles ghosting over the skin of your neck.

After a few more shenanigans, you realized two hours had passed, and you still had several more items on your list.

“How about this? For your brothers?” Rafe asked, pointing out an Xbox in a display case. 

You snorted, “there’s no planet on which my brother’s would think that actually came from our parents. They’re still using an old PlayStation someone gave us years ago.”

“Well then I’ll get it for them, you can say it came from Santa,” he shrugged, as if the astronomical price tag below it didn’t even exist.

“Our Santa brings, like, socks and candy. He doesn’t have a black card,” you pulled his arm, guiding him to a cheaper aisle.

“And what does your Santa usually bring you?” He questioned, a not so subtle way to find out what you wanted for Christmas. 

“I don’t ask him for much,” you brushed the question off. “I just want my family all together.”

Rafe didn’t push any further, watching you out of the corner of his eye, realization dawning that you were serious, you actually didn’t expect to get any gifts for Christmas.

Not noticing his eyes on you, you scanned over everything in your cart, adding it up on your phone’s calculator for the hundredth time. You couldn’t remember a day in your life you weren’t worried about money. Every penny counts now more than ever with your mom not working and your dad unable to find a job that pays enough to keep everyone afloat without completely running himself into the ground.

Without realizing it, you brought your fingertips back to your mouth, biting your nails anxiously for the first time since Rafe had pointed out the bad habit several hours ago.

“Hey you know what?” Rafe said, and you were so lost in worried thoughts that you flinched at the sound of his voice. “Why don’t we split up to get the rest of the list? We’ll cover more ground that way. Also, I think I saw some fake trees on sale back there, so I can grab one.”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling the little bubble of your flirty shopping spree pop. 

He was clearly ready to be done with this little excursion. But you’d had more fun than you thought you would, and there were still several days of break left to enjoy with him. You could feel the walls you’d so carefully built around your heart swaying just a little bit in his wind. The thought terrified and thrilled you all at the same time.

After collecting your half of the gift list, you searched the store for Rafe. You found him in the jewelry section, leaning against the glass display case. You made your way towards him, prepared to tease him for wasting time in a section that wasn’t on the list, before you saw his reason for being there. You stopped short, ducking behind an inflatable Santa to watch with a disappointed glare. 

He was chatting up a pretty sales girl, her store uniform fitted tightly as she smiled down at him, her cheeks rosy pink and pretty smile blindingly white.

Rafe gave her the charming grin you’d begun to hope he only reserved for you, probably drawling some cheeky compliments to cause her to blush in the way you surely did when he talked to you.

The feeling in your chest was unfamiliar, and painfully uncomfortable. Reluctantly, you identified it as jealousy. No, no, you were not jealous over this obnoxious frat boy, you wouldn’t allow yourself to be. That was not how you were gonna start your Christmas break.

Just as you’d resolved not to be jealous, he reached up and brushed his hand against the necklace she was wearing, admiring her jewelry surely just as an excuse to bring his hand close to her chest. She beamed at him, his attempts at flirting clearly working. 

A deep frown settled on your features. He was supposed to be shopping for your little brothers and instead he was feeling up a sales girl? You felt so delusional for thinking you’d misjudged him on the drive down. He was the same guy you thought he was when he showed up at your car yesterday, you should've trusted your gut.

Hoping he wouldn’t catch you watching, you turned quickly on your heel, beelining for check out.

Taking the bag from the sales girl with a wink, Rafe tucked the small item at the bottom of his cart, under the presents he’d collected for your brothers, and began searching for you in the crowded aisles, looking forward to the pleased look on your face when he informed you he’d found everything on his half of the list.

When he found you, you were already half way through checking out, loading items onto the belt and watching with tense shoulders as the total on the screen climbed higher and higher.

“What, were you gonna leave without me?” Rafe joked as he started adding his items to the belt.

“We’re on a schedule, we don’t have time to keep fucking around,” you grumbled. 

Rafe met eyes with the college-aged guy who was working as cashier, both of them flashing knowing smirks as if to say, “chicks, am I right, man?” Their boyish camaraderie made you even angrier. 

Once your cart was empty, you started to help Rafe empty his cart, but he jumped around to the front before you could, blocking your access.

“No, no, I got it,” he said nervously, his body blocking you from reaching into his cart.

Irritation crept up your chest, threatening to take over completely. You suddenly felt so petty and immature, like you were Benny’s age, knowing you were about to say something rude you’d later regret. 

“Fine!” You shoved the cash your dad had given you in Rafe’s hands, “I’ll just go pull the car around then.”

Rafe watched you leave through the store’s sliding glass doors, arms crossed as you exited to the parking lot, which was wet and slippery from the wintery sleet mix that had started falling at some point when you were in the store. You paused and huffed deeply, annoyed by the shift in weather, throwing the hood of your jacket up as you jogged across the lot to your car.

He had no idea what had changed in the thirty minutes you’d been shopping separately. There had been a moment earlier when he thought he’d finally won you over, and now you were back to treating him like he was the bane of your existence.

“This too?” The cashier asked, holding out the decorative mistletoe Rafe had thrown in the bottom of his cart, thinking he could work in some cheeky joke with you and get that perfect eye roll/reluctant smile expression you make that he’d become a little obsessed with.

“Yeah, sure, whatever man,” he agreed with a frown.

As promised, you brought the car around, giving Rafe the cold shoulder as you loaded the gifts into the trunk. When you got to the fake tree Rafe had snagged from the holiday section, you paused.

“What’s that?” You questioned him.

“A tree?” He snapped back. “I told you I was gonna grab one.”

“No,” you shook your head, “we have to get a real tree.”

Rafe looked up at the sky pointedly, the worsening weather causing shoppers around you to duck and run to their car to get out of the misery.

“Are you serious?” He grumbled. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“It just…it has to be real, okay?” You huffed. “I found the last tree lot in the county that still has Douglas Firs, so you can take this one back.”

“Why don’t we keep this one just in case you change your mind,” he suggested.

“Fine, keep it, but I’m not changing my mind,” you threw the box with the fake tree into the trunk and slammed it closed, nearly catching Rafe’s hand in the heavy door as you did.

You stomped around to the driver’s side, leaving Rafe to return the carts to the main entrance, his jaw clenched in frustration the whole way. What had started as disappointment in your change in demeanor had turned into full-on anger. He may not be your favorite person, but you weren’t the only one having a shitty Christmas, and he definitely didn’t think he deserved whatever the fuck this was.

“I’m telling you, it was veer left, not turn left!”

The windshield wipers were working overtime, squeaking against the glass as they tried and failed to keep the freezing rain out of your line of vision. You sat all the way forward in your seat to see through the watery streaks they left behind. You had pulled onto some muddy back road as Rafe read directions from the GPS, trying to find this obscure tree lot several miles outside of town.

“Veer left doesn’t make any sense, I know that road, it’s all factories and empty lots,” you waved him off.

“Okay, well it’s clearly not this road! Is this even a road? It’s like a fucking swamp out here, I don’t know how your tires are even still moving,” He argued back.

“Not everything around here is as nice here as it is in the Outer Banks, Rafe. We’re doing our best, sorry if we don’t meet Cameron standards,” you griped at him.

“Oh my god, that’s not what I meant, just admit you’re fucking lost,” he snipped back.

“I am not lost. It’s probably just taking me on a shortcut. The road will clear up any minute.”

As you said those fateful words, the road got even more unstable, dirt and gravel mixing with the precipitation to make what looked more like a vat of chocolate pudding than a road. 

Stubbornly, you accelerated, determined to get out of this patch of road and prove to him you were right. As you sped up, the steering wheel turned erratically under your hands, your tires skidding on the slippery road, eventually stopping movement at all.

“Hmm interesting,” Rafe quipped sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you try to navigate the situation you’d gotten yourself into.

“It’s fine, I just need to…” you accelerated more, your spinning back tire kicking up mud as it fought for forward motion.

“Stop, you’re gonna - “

POP! The car skidded forward violently just an inch before stopping altogether, the weight of it sinking underneath you as a loud whistling noise echoed from the rear tire.

“- blow your tire,” Rafe threw his hands up in exasperation as the low tire pressure light on your dash illuminated with a little ‘ding!’

You avoided his eyes, hands still clutching the steering wheel as you clenched your jaw in anger. 

“Thanks a lot,” you mumbled.

Rafe blinked at you in disbelief, jaw hanging slack. 

“Me?” He scoffed, looking around the car as if there was someone he could look to for confirmation that you were being insane. “How is this my fault?”

“You’re rushing me! I know how to drive on back roads but you were distracting me!” You were grasping at straws, you knew it, he knew it, but logic had flown out the window when the tire blew. 

Rafe just chuckled humorlessly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “let’s just call someone and -”

But you were already opening your door, booted foot landing with a squelch in the mud.

“What are you doing?” He called after you.

You leaned down to look at him through your cracked door, “never changed a tire before, rich boy?” With a smirk, you slammed the door in his face.

Scrambling in the mud behind you, Rafe tried to reason with you.

“It’s pouring, you’re gonna get sick! Please just let me call someone and we can get a tow home - ”

“We still have to get the tree,” you shut him down, loosening the spare tire from the back of the hatchback.

Rafe threw his hands out in disbelief, “you’re not serious right? You’re still trying to find this fucking farm that, I gotta tell you, I’m starting to think doesn’t even exist.”

“Yes,” you said simply, lowering the tire to the ground and pulling the lug wrench from the trunk.

“You might actually be the most stubborn, ridiculous person I’ve ever met. What is it about getting this tree?” He yelled over the steadily increasing rainfall. 

“Because, Rafe, I can!” You dropped the wrench in the mud and turned on him, tears stinging your eyes as you yelled, letting all your frustration out on this boy, who just yesterday was a stranger. “I can’t get my dad a better job, and I can’t buy my brothers the presents the really want, and I can’t cure fucking cancer! But I can get a goddamn Douglas Fir, like we have every year since I was born. So I’m getting this tree! You can call your new friend from he jewelry department to come pick you up, but I’m staying here and changing this fucking tire!”

Standing back, Rafe buried his hands in his coat pockets, nodding along as you let it all out, the loose threads all twisting to finally weave together an explanation for your shift in mood. He spotted the tears as you mentioned your powerlessness over your dad’s job and your mom’s cancer, feeling like he was starting to understand your stubborn insistence to make this cursed Christmas joyful.

Though he knew he should be comforting you, he couldn’t help the little upward twitch of his lips at your comment about the jewelry girl. That explained your mood at check out, and if he was being honest, made his heart leap a little at the thought of you actually being jealous for his attention.

After several moments of his eyes on you, sizing you up as he digested your outburst, you suddenly felt exposed, and a little silly, “what?” you asked him with a burning blush.

“Nothing,” he shook his head with a grin, leaning down to pick the wrench up from the mud, “just didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

Your jaw fell slack, out of all you’d just said, of course he was zeroing in on your comment about the girl in the store. You were somewhat relieved though, glad to have an excuse to move on from talking about all the sad, stressful things going on at home.

“You’re such an ass,” you laughed, the air between you growing a little lighter. “I bet people call you that a lot.”

Rafe knelt down in the mud, beginning to loosen the screws of the flat tire.

“Not everyone, some people go with ‘lost puppy’,” he muttered under his breath.

Your smile fell from your lips, your eyes grew as you realized he was quoting you back to you. He had heard you talking about him to your brothers last night. You replayed all your words in your head with a wince - laughing about how he was like the kid from Home Alone, saying you only brought him home because you felt awkward. God, now you felt like an ass.

“Rafe, I’m…I’m so sorry, that was not cool…”

“It’s fine,” he said, a small grunt leaving him as he used the wrench to loosen a particularly rusted bolt.

“No, it’s not. We shouldn’t have been laughing. I didn’t just bring you home because I felt bad-”

“Why did you then?” He stopped what he was doing, his eyes landing on yours so suddenly, you jumped back a bit, taken by the striking blue, and the vulnerability you were seeing in them for the first time.

Deciding it was time to get your own jeans muddy, you knelt down next to him, hands wrapping around the wrench handle next to his to help him pull, both of you struggling due to the rain making the wrench so slippery.

The bolt still didn’t budge, and you paused for a minute, sitting back on your heels and looking at him.

“Because it’s Christmas,” you answered his question. “And I wanted to spend it with a friend.”

The tips of his ears burned red, he hoped you’d think it was just from the cold.

Going in for a second try, you both tugged on the wrench again, gritted teeth and white knuckles as you combined your strength to turn it as hard as you could. Frosted rain slipping between the end of the wrench and the bolt made it slip, the metal flying through the air. You and Rafe both slipped in the mud under your knees, Rafe trying to catch himself on his hands so he didn’t land on top of you, but not quite in time. His large body landed on top of yours and you both went tumbling down the side of the road, landing side by side in the muddy ditch with an unsettling squelch.

Both of you completely covered in mud, panting and shocked, Rafe turned his head to look at you, “fake tree?”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly agreed. “Fake tree.”

You and Rafe snuck in through the garage,  both of you tracking mud with every step. There was no way you’d make it all the way up to the bathroom without destroying the floors in your wake.

You’d laughed together the entire drive back to the house. What a disaster the shopping trip had turned into, and yet, you were more in the Christmas spirit now than you had been in a long, long time.

“Oh shit,” you yelped, slipping on your own muddy boot and knocking down a pile of boxes as you tried to stabilize yourself.

Rafe’s arms shot out to catch you, your nails digging into his forearms to hold yourself up. You eyed him, still wearing the “naughty” sweater you hoped he’d remembered to pay for.

“Well these are ruined,” you sighed, looking down at your own mud-soaked pullover. “And there’s no way we’re making it upstairs without tracking in mud.”

Before your sentence was even finished, Rafe was hooking his hands into the collar, pulling the sweater up and off with one pull, peeling off the soaked t-shirt underneath it, too. 

Failing miserably to hide your shock at his sculpted form, you bit your lip to silence the gasp that was begging to escape. He was just as built as you expected, if not more. His abs creased in a perfect set of six, sturdy pecs and two thick blue veins running through each bicep. He was somehow tan in the middle of December, and his skin was perfectly smooth apart from the little line of rough hair that ran from his belly button down to the waistband of his jeans. 

He caught you staring, of course he did, and smirked as he flustered you further by unbuttoning his jeans and letting them fall to the floor in a muddy heap, left in only his black boxer-briefs.

Frozen in place, you subconsciously pulled your sleeves down over your hands, as if covering yourself up more could clear the cloud of attraction fogging your brain. Rafe turned and walked towards the door that led into the house.

“Wha-where are you going?” You asked him, snapped out of your trance.

“To take a shower,” he said, like it was obvious. “I’m fucking freezing, but you can stay here and drip.”

He smiled at you expectantly, there was a challenging dip in his voice as he over pronounced the last word. Something competitive rose in your chest, he clearly didn’t think you had it in you to strip down, too. At the end of the day, you were a classic oldest child - you didn’t take kindly to losing.

Keeping your eyes locked to him, you grabbed the hem of your sweater and pulled it off over your head, copying him by pulling the shirt underneath off too until you were standing in front of him in just your bra. Rafe tilted his head as his eyes raked over you, raising his eyebrows when he got to your jeans, just as muddy and destroyed as his had been.

With a hard swallow, you undid the button and zipper with shaky hands, shimmying your hips a little to pull the wet denim over your curves. Rafe went pale and speechless, taking in the little show with a heavy rise and fall of his chest. You piled all of your clothes in the corner, hoping no one in your family stumbled upon them before you had the chance to wash them.

Rafe didn’t even try to hide the way he was drinking you in as you padded towards him in your underwear, brushing past him to get to the door first.

“I mean, damn,” he wolf-whistled at you, quietly so no one inside the house came looking for the sound.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, stepping ahead of him so he couldn’t see your pleased smile.

He followed your tiptoed steps through the hall and up the stairs, stopping at each corner to make sure no one was going to come around it and catch the two of you sneaking around in your underwear. 

Once you made it to the upstairs bathroom, you turned on the shower, excited to step into the steamy water and finally warm up. You were surprised to find Rafe still standing in the open doorway when you turned, sure he’d get the hint that he should wait outside when it came time for you to really strip down.

“What are you doing?” You whisper-scolded him.

“Enjoying the view,” he winked.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, pushing him by his chest so he stumbled back into the hall. “I don’t need your help for this pa-”

Your sentence was cut short by the creaking of wood under incoming footsteps. Panicking, you grabbed Rafe’s wrist, pulling him into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. 

“Woah, is this really happening?” He asked breathlessly, licking his lips before you slapped your hand over his mouth to shut him up, his eyes going wide at your boldness.

“Someone’s coming,” you mouthed, urging him to be quiet as you kept your palm firmly sealed over his lips.

The footsteps in the hall grew louder, their owner getting closer and closer to the door, not knowing you had a half-naked man pushed up against the other side as steam swirled around your bare bodies.

As you both waited with baited breath, your eyes drifted over Rafe’s body, so close to yours in the tiny bathroom. You couldn’t help it, sure that desire was painted all over your features. There was no use in denying it, as the warm steam caused a single drop of sweat to roll down his chest and into the ripple of his abs, you finally allowed yourself to accept that you wanted him, bad.

He felt it too, you were sure of it, his eyes half closed with heavy lids as he looked down over you, drinking in all the exposed skin and soft lace of your underwear set. 

Just as his hand slowly started rising toward your hip, a knock on the other side of the door made you both jump, a little yelp of surprise almost leaving your lips before Rafe threw his hand over your mouth, the tables turned. 

“Hey Gigs?” Benny’s little voice called from the other side of the door.

You tried to move Rafe’s hand from your mouth, but he only allowed you to lift it enough to respond before covering your lips again.

“Y-yeah, Beans?” Your voice cracked in response, Rafe flashing you a teasing grin at your flustered state. You shot him a warning look, praying your little brother couldn’t sense what was going on.

“Can we open the presents you bought us now, pleaseee?” Benny asked.

Normally you’d say no, that they had to wait until Christmas day. But as you were about to reject his request, Rafe pulled his hand from your mouth, letting his thumb tug your bottom lip down as he dragged his fingers to your jaw and brushed the soft skin of your neck. You could tell by his wicked grin he was enjoying seeing how far he could push you, drunk off your blushes and gasps.

“Yes, sure, th-that’s fine,” you told Benny, eager to get him away from the door. Rafe chuckled quietly at your compliance, making you clench your jaw even harder in annoyance at him.

“Sweet, thanks!” Benny called, hurrying back downstairs, clearly not having expected you to give him the answer he wanted.

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you glared up at Rafe, “you can’t do that!”

He threw his head back in satisfied laughter, bringing it back down only to drop his lips close to your ear.

“So, how about that shower?” He whispered.

With a little grin of your own, you leaned in too, “Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Get out.”

Rafe managed to find his way back to the laundry room without bumping into any of your brothers. He ran his hair under the utility sink faucet to get the flecks of mud out, throwing on some clean, warm clothes before heading to the kitchen in search of a much needed glass of water, his mouth still full of cotton at the thought of you nearly naked in front of him.

As he rounded into the kitchen, he stopped short, surprise flashing across his face.

A painfully thin woman, who he could only assume to be your mother, stood in the middle of the small space, bony hands on the back of an empty kitchen chair. Her bald head was wrapped in a silky scarf, and she smiled an easy grin that reminded him so stunningly of yours.

“You must be Rafe,” she said. “Have a seat.”

(to be continued)

a/n: okay not the single longest post I've ever made on this website. period. thank u for reading!! two more parts w the last taking place on New Year's Eve. merry everything!!

taglist note: the taglist for this series will be posted in replies asap and has gotten very long so it is closed. I'm soooo thankful that ppl want to know when I post you have no idea! but it takes me a long time to do and makes posting difficult, so I am asking that in order to stay on the list for the rest of the series, you interact with each post in some way (reply with feedback, a rb, an ask - anything you'd like!) it really helps me as a writer! thank you!!

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[babeyun]

falling alone ✩ l.hs [m]

⇢ part of the modus operandi series! synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s. genre: established relationship au ; strained lovers. angst, fluff, smut pairing: lieutenant!lee heeseung x therapist!housewife!reader (i love plot twists) word count: 39.5k rating: 18+. minors please do not interact. warnings: for realism purposes, everyone is aged up (22-29 ; not my favorite but it is what it is.) strained marriage/relationship dynamics, workaholic dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics that are not meant to be romanticized. talks of therapy, food mentions, birth control mention, talks of having a family. detailed descriptions of disappearances, missing persons, etc. y/n feels neglected (girl STAND UP). sex as a temporary fix, swearing, alcohol, smoking. unrequited love, lots of pining on both ends. smut warnings: multiple scenes (two and a half...just read it), heeseung has a thing for y/n in business attire, petnames (baby, babe, princess, etc.,) unexplored daddy kink, heavy petting, frottage, slight body worship (m&f.rec.) nipple play, light spanking, oral (m&f. rec), squirting, lots of pillowtalk, marking, dom/sub dynamics, hair pulling, slight degrading/praise, handholding during sex (because i'm soft so what), switch!hee x switch!yn, unprotected sex (don't do this), doggy, missionary (not a babeyun fic if it's not missionary and body worship, i fear) creampie (i hate this word so bad.) i think that's it! what to listen to: falling - harry styles ; tu falta de querer - mon laferte ; seasons - dawn, gemini ; stardust - ben webster ; my foolish heart - bill evans trio ; no song without you - honne ; take me - miso ; say - keshi ; may i have this dance - francis & the lights ; unchained melody - the righteous brothers ; can't take my eyes off you - frankie valli ; can this morning never end - davin kingston ; too good - christian kuria ; u send me swingin' - mint condition ; you and me - lifehouse. author's note: it's finally fucking here, SEVEN MONTHS later. i cannot believe my life took such a turn that my original timeline of getting these all out back out to back turned into me ghosting the internet. this being said, i really hope you guys enjoy the push and pull that are heeseung and y/n in this. they're insane but they're in love and that's all that matters. special thanks to my dearest @enhaven for all her encouragement and kind words. star dividers by @/saradika here on tumblr!

Friday, 9:23PM.

 "Late night?" Your voice has always been a comfort to him. The way you cooked dinner every night, the way you washed his hair for him, the way you laid in bed with him – it was all comforting. Your soft eyes, eyes that hadn't seen an inch of a crime scene. Your gentle hands, hands that would never cock a gun and aim to kill.

You were home to him, and he hated that he couldn't leave his work at the precinct. He always brought it with him, anywhere he went…anywhere you were.

"Not really. Caught a session with Dr. Bahng, I'm sorry about dinner." He loosens his tie, trying to ignore the way your eyes follow his fingers. He takes his wedding ring off for work – insisting it snags on the gloves when gathering evidence, that he never wants to sully it with such grime. "How was your night?" Your sigh may be inward, but his eyes catch everything. Every frustrated twitch of your brows, the way your nose crinkles at the half-assed apology. Your eyes linger on the linoleum floor, and he fights the urge to pull you into his arms. He fights the urge to show any weakness to your feelings, he can't let go of work. He has to be strong, he has to be coarse, he has to be cold.

"It was…fine." You wave him off, moving to take the full plates off the table. Only then does Heeseung notice that you're still in your jeans, your white top neatly tucked into them. Your feet are clad in fresh socks, almost as if you were about to go out when he arrived. His eyes scan you as you move around, pulling his tie completely off and bunching it into his pocket. "Are you going out with your friends?" You don't reply as you scrape the cold food into the trash can, and he focuses on the sound of your bracelet lightly clinking with the handle of the fork. Your shoulders sag, soft curls of your hair sweeping over your face as you move to place the dishes in the sink. He sighs, before his legs move him behind you. "Why are you upset, honey?" "I'm not, I'm not upset." You scoff, turning the tap to hot when you feel Heeseung's hands ghost over your waist. You knew better than to attempt to hide anything from him, especially with the way his brain was literally trained to analyze your every movement. His lips press softly to your cheek as his fingers untuck your top, "I know you better than that." You're silent as his fingertips trace the soft skin of your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder. He's going to wait until you decide you want to talk, despite knowing it will be the same argument you have every single week.

The same argument that always ends up unresolved as you kiss in your bed, sheets tangled between your bodies. It's enough to hold off on actually talking about it, it's enough to semi-satisfy the lack of attention you got from him during the week. It wasn't enough to feed his unvoiced, almost insatiable hunger for you, and how he wished he could just douse you in his love and affection until the sun rose. It wasn't nearly enough, because he'd still have to pry himself from the comfort of your warm embrace to step foot in the precinct and inhale the stench of evil in the world.

He felt awful, really. That he could never truly show you how much he loved you, how emotionally constipated his job made him…how his sessions with Dr. Bahng were no longer of much help. "Leave work at work, Lieutenant. You have the love of your life waiting for you at home." He had it memorized at this point.

"It's always the same thing, don't worry about it." You turn the tap off, feeling the guilt about wasting water seeping into your stomach. You weren't going to wash the dishes, you knew you weren't. You just wanted to lay down in bed with your husband, basking in the few minutes of attention he'd be able to give you before falling asleep. 

"Baby." You wince at the pet name, one so foreign on his lips. One you so rarely heard, long lost in your college memories. You grimace as you turn in his hold, his hands now resting on your hips. "Don't baby me, Heeseung." "Don't Heeseung me, Y/N. I know something is bothering you, and whether it's tonight, tomorrow, or next week – I'm not letting you go to bed like this." He looks at you through tousled locks, his eyes speaking for him. Just talk to me.

You shake your head in subtle disbelief, attempting to push past him when he pins you against the counter gently. "Let me go, Heeseung." "Not until you tell me what's going on." His voice is harsh, one he also rarely uses with you. Heeseung was always gentle, soft-spoken. "I've been at work all day, dealing with shit I can barely stomach. I just want to come home and spend time with you, what's wrong?" He's starting to whine, and it does nothing but make your eyes sting with tears.

"I just want to spend time with you, without having to beg you for it." You breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his gaze. "You remember everything, Hee. I know you had to remember that tonight is date night." Sighing, you peel your eyes open to a guilty husband watching you with his own tired ones.

"I'm sorry, honey. It really did slip my mind. Let me…let me just take a shower and we can go have a night on the town, okay?" He starts to walk away, fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt when you clear your throat. "It's fine, Heeseung. Let's just go to bed."

"No, let me fix this. We haven't had dinner, and we haven't spent time together in weeks." He slips his dress shirt off as he leaves your line of vision, and you just slump against the counter. He was right, and you hated that you knew he was. Heeseung was always this way, though, shouldn't you be used to it by now?

Yes, he was gentle and soft-spoken, with a touch of dirty humor and thoughtfulness that always made your heart race a little faster. Your relationship was built on a lot of comfort and deep talks, ones that usually involved you unraveling yourself entirely just to get a taste of his own secrets. The two of you had met in college, about three days after the disappearance of his childhood best friend, Cha Soyoung.

Heeseung was even more cold and stoic, and wasn't interested in so much as even befriending you. He didn't really speak, which according to his friends, was unnatural. They wound up being close friends of yours as well, thanks to Park Sunghoon, and the seven of them all also ended up working at the same precinct. "Heeseung talks…a lot. Not as much as Jay, but he's just going through a hard time right now." Sunghoon said as he sipped his drink, carefully chewing the tapioca pearls as the two of you walked. "It's not everyday your best friend of twenty years goes missing, you know?"You had shrugged, not really understanding what it was like. Your parents had moved you around a lot as a kid, and it was hard to make friends until they finally settled when you got into your last year of high school. You had met Sunghoon there, but only met the rest of your friends through him that following summer – except Heeseung. He'd gone home with Soyoung for the summer, returning to Seoul for the fall semester at Decelis University with her and your other friends. You still never spoke, until now.

You and Sunghoon were swinging by his dorm to help pass out flyers.

"Hey, Hoon. Y/N." Heeseung spoke quietly as he opened the door, his eyes nearly swollen shut from crying for the past three days. Your jaw dropped as you looked at his face, not at all recognizing the boy in front of you. Sure, you'd only ever seen pictures of Heeseung but you knew enough to know that this…wasn't him. Neither you nor Sunghoon spoke as Heeseung moved for the two of you to follow him, shutting the door behind you.

"How are you feeling?" Sunghoon asked as he trashed his drink, your own now sweating on a coaster on Heeseung's coffee table as the man gathered things around his dorm. You stood awkwardly as you swung your backpack onto the couch, opening it for Heeseung to slide the flyers in when you saw him shake his head. 

"I don't feel much, actually." 

Sunghoon glanced at you, but your legs moved before you could think. You rounded the table to Heeseung, who looked at your extended arms and empathetic eyes with cold ones. He'd set down the papers in his hands, fingers splayed across them momentarily before turning back to you and awkwardly entering your embrace. Your fingers easily found the nape of his neck, and his rigid form quickly softened as he breathed shakily into your shoulder. "M'Sorry." He mumbled as you felt a few tears soak through your shirt, and you just shook your head. 

Sunghoon also wound up wrapping his arms around the two of you. Something about the way that Heeseung's fingers clawed at your sides, and the way he sobbed into your shirt made you wonder how long he'd needed someone. Someone to ease the knot in his stomach, someone to help him see that this was something that would be solved and everything would be okay again. Someone to help him hop along until Soyoung was found, and someone to leave when she inevitably took her place again.

That was nine years ago. You and Heeseung began dating a year after that happened, a couple of months after the anniversary of Soyoung's disappearance. The police stopped looking, ruling her case as a runaway. You and Heeseung never stopped searching – you frequently asked cafe owners if you could pin missing posters on their corkboards, and even went door to door every few evenings asking if anyone had seen Soyoung. 

Heeseung had made it to the side of the law, and frequently reviewed the case to see if he had missed anything. He never had – you had all hit a dead end. Everyone's hope began to dwindle, but Heeseung never let that sway him. He even asked the forensics department to make age-progression posters, and they did. You'd pinned those up, too.

He was strong willed, he was diligent, he was determined. You love Heeseung, you love the person he is…

…But you hate that he can't leave his work at work. You hate that you get a crumb of his affection every few nights, whether it's his lips pressed against your cheek after dinner or his teeth nipping at your clavicle while hovering above you in bed. You hate that you find yourself longing for him even more than you did in college, despite now having him in the deepest way – as your husband, the person who loves you. 

The man who shed a singular tear as he watched you walk down the aisle, the man who supported you when your career wasn't what you expected. The man who endlessly told you he loved you in ways that weren't so evident to the naked eye – like leaving the warm water for you and showering in the ice cold, leaving the last slice of cake for you, rubbing your feet while watching Law and Order with you on days he didn't work (read: on days you pried him out of the home office.)

Heeseung loves you, you know that. You just can't shake the feeling that it won't be for much longer.

"Tuck in your shirt."

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look up to see your husband now unrolling a pair of clean socks, speaking around a wide toothed comb between his teeth. He drapes the socks over the back of a chair, eyes glued to his reflection in the hallway mirror as he combs through his hair quickly. 

Rolling your eyes, you tuck in your shirt haphazardly as he parts his hair down the middle. "You can't go out with your hair wet, you'll get sick." You call as you make your way down to the bathroom, pulling open one of the cabinets to fish out your hair dryer. "I don't have time to dry my hair. In sickness and health, anyway." Heeseung yells down the hall, and you bite back your chuckle.

"But why make yourself sick? Sit, I'll dry it while you put on your socks." You untangle the cord, plugging it into the wall as Heeseung pouts. "The sound makes me sleepy! If I'm sleepy, we can't go out." He shakes his head, and you put a hand on your hip as you give him a pointed look. He sighs, tugging a chair towards you and plopping down.

"You're throwing a tantrum like a child. Mom, I don't want to wear my coat! Mom, I don't want my peas touching my mashed potato!" You mock his behavior, making him sulk further into the chair and creasing his shirt. "Sit up!"

He does, and watches you through the mirror as you carefully comb your fingers through his hair. He wonders why you forgive him so easily, why you do these things for him when he doesn't feel like he deserves it. The wasted dinner, the way you roll his socks after doing his laundry (that he insists he can do himself.) He wonders what he's done to make you love him so dearly.

"Where d'you wanna go? Olive You More? Thyme for Love?" His voice leaves the sulky attitude behind, as your fingers card through his damp hair, and you grimace. "Why are all our favorite restaurants so cheesy? It's disgusting." "Well, we could try that new one down by the river. Pasta La Vista, I think it's called." He taps his lips with his fingers, and you catch the glint of his gold wedding band snuggled around his left ring finger. You ignore the way your heart flutters, as you lightly smack his shoulder. "No more pun restaurants! We're not in college anymore." "Ah, but I love going to those places with you. I.." The words get caught in Heeseung's throat, as they always do. He always feels like he's saying it for the very first time, just like he did all those years ago in the middle of the woods. You got stuck in a blackberry bush, and it just slipped out.

"You..?" You ask, looking at him through the mirror. Your eyes are full of concern, a look he never stops seeing. It bothers him. "I love you." He mumbles shyly, looking away to pick at his cuticles. He doesn't see the gentle smile on your glossed lips, and feels your soft hair brush his neck as you lean to kiss his cheek. 

"Mmh, I would hope so." "Yah, say it back." He pouts as he turns to face you, and you can only smile wider before you place a chaste kiss on his lips. "I don't need to, you know who my heart calls home. Now, get up. We've got a delicious pasta dinner to inhale, and breadsticks to steal." He doesn't ask you to say it back again, only watching as you walk away with a skip in your step. He knows, he does. He knows you love him, he knows your heart calls him home. He knows you love him.

He's just worried it won't be for much longer.

Saturday, 10:32am.

"Good morning." Your voice is raspy with sleep, eyes still slightly shut as you whisper into his skin. It's a God-given miracle that he's still in bed next to you, instead of slipping out early like a college hookup. 

Unfortunately, that happened more often than not. "Have we always had such shitty curtains? I can't sleep with so much light." He groans, tugging your arm over his head as he moves to snuggle into your chest. His breathing softens as you pull him slightly closer, wrapping your arms fully around his head and shoulders. "Mmh, if you were still in bed by the time I woke up for the day, you'd know." "You know I can't be." He sighs, and you feel the ticklish sensation of his lips feathering over your clavicle. His teeth tug lightly at your necklace, one he gave you for your second anniversary, months after the wedding. He loves that you never take it off. 

"It's not a matter of if you can, it's a matter of if you want to." "Don't pull that, you know I do." He kisses your skin before burying his face into your neck. "I'd never leave this bed if it were up to me." His teeth are once more doing their oh-so routine nipping at the exposed skin of your shoulder, before you shift out of his reach. "We should get breakfast."

You turn onto your back, stretching your arms above your head with a soft yawn. Though blurred with fatigue, your eyes see Heeseung perfectly, his head resting lightly on your stomach. His fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear, thumb slightly slipping beneath to rub at the skin of your hip. Your tattoo peeks through, one Heeseung never lets you forget you have. His faded initials mock the both of you. "Or, counter offer: you can be my breakfast." 

You snort, propping yourself up your elbows to get a good look at the man now in your lap. He's pressing soft kisses around your navel, eyelashes fluttering slowly as his lips pepper around your warm skin. "Hee, you barely ate dinner."

"I've barely eaten you. I'm a man deprived, please?" His eyes finally peer up at you, and you scoff out a laugh, running a hand through your mussed curls. You shake your head as you tongue your cheek, allowing him to pull at the hem of your panties once more. "I'm not above begging, if that's what it takes. You know I'll do it." "Just take them off, you big baby. You're cheesy as shit, too." You roll your eyes as he grins, a playful bite to your outer thigh as he begins to move you around as he pleases. 

"Open." He kneels on the bed, knuckles rapping on your knees to part them. You can't help but roll your eyes again, but comply as he tugs down your underwear. It flies somewhere across the room, forgotten in a corner to gather dust, Heeseung completely unaware as he lies on his stomach.

"I've missed this." He sighs, before placing a chaste kiss on your inner thigh. "I miss you, most of all. I promise I'll be home earlier this week, baby." He doesn't give you a chance to respond as his tongue quickly finds home between your legs, softly licking at every inch he can reach. Your lip is tucked beneath your teeth, fingers grabbing at anything you can…

When his phone starts ringing. He groans into your skin, the vibrations making you shiver as disappointment takes over. He ignores the sound, choosing to pull you closer onto his face when you push his shoulder with your foot. "Just answer it, Hee." "I don't want to." His voice is muffled as his tongue collects your forming arousal, a soft moan from his throat as you squirm in his hold. "H-Hee, what if it's important?" "What if it's not? What could possibly be more important than you and I at this very moment?" His eyes are filled with a mix of annoyance and desire as he rests his cheek against your thigh. You hate the pitiful groan that escapes your lips as you reach for his phone, answering it for him. "Work." 

Sighing, he moves off the bed as he takes the call, motioning for you to stay as he speaks. "Go for Lee."

Complying, you simply become a jellyfish of a human, sprawled across your bed. You wonder why you answered the phone for him, why you pushed him to take the call. It bothers you that even now, you have begun prioritizing his work over your relationship, when you both promised each other that your love, affections and time for each other would never dwindle.

You can't say it has, though, at least for you. You love Heeseung, one could even say that distance has made your heart grow fonder. Not seeing him often has made you a bit more independent, and every time you find yourself eating dinner at the table alone, you're reminded of your mother. 

How she berated you for marrying for love and not stability, how she shamed you for abandoning the career that drained you of everything you had. You dislike how easy it was for her to get into your head, so much so that you'd spent all of yesterday applying for new jobs in your field, while waiting for Heeseung to get home – and hopefully have your regular date night.

Not that he was even around to have said date. Sure, he made it up to you…but at what cost?

As you begin to sink into your spiraling thoughts, Heeseung reappears in the doorway of your bedroom. He doesn't speak loud enough for you to hear as he beelines for the closet – a mumble of frustrations spilling from his lips as he rips a shirt off its hanger. Turning on your side, you cover your lower half with the blanket that's no longer warm before speaking to him. "Duty calls, huh?" "Yes." 

In silence, you watch as he buttons his shirt, the muted teal making his skin glow softly. He doesn't look you in the eyes as he revisits the closet, tugging on his favorite pair of brown slacks. A pair you made for him a few years ago, right after leaving your job – and you remember the way his eyes lit up as you presented them. You remember the way he kissed each of your fingertips that night, covered with bandaids from pin pricks. You remember returning home the next day from a girls' day with Chaewon, to find a packet of colorful silicone thimbles, and a few more pieces of glittery, cream-colored fabric laid out on your bed.

Fabric he'd used to make you a dress, with flutter sleeves and a deep v-neckline. Fabric he'd used to sit and carefully hand-stitch the flowy sarong skirt. When did he find the time? He hadn't given you much of a chance to ask questions, before he insisted you put it on and let him take you out for a nice dinner.

It was the last time the two of you truly connected on something deeper than his work or your convenient unemployment. It was the last time that the two of you genuinely laughed together and did things from your younger years, like dancing in the twilight to no music and kissing in every corner possible on the walk home. The last time you wore his favorite perfume, because after that, months passed without a second thought about you.

The silence between you has grown neutral – not entirely comfortable, because who wants to spend their days without hearing the love of their life speak to them? Laugh with them, maybe even get into a bit of a spat with them that shows your relationship is becoming more than just the bare minimum? Certainly not you, and by the way Heeseung robotically loops his tie while staring you down in the mirror, a look of longing in his eyes before turning to you.

"I won't be long, I promise." 

He notes the way your head tilts, the way an understanding smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes takes over your face. "Don't worry, take your time." The way your hair is effortlessly splayed around your head, life's odd attempt at recreating the halo to represent the absolute angel you are. One Heeseung doesn't deserve.

You get up, swinging your bare legs over the side of the bed before grabbing for your bath towel. "I'll get ready for my day, and maybe…" You trail off as your toes touch his shoes – he wore them in the house sometimes, a habit of his you despised. 

"And maybe we can catch lunch together?" He finishes, a shy smile crossing his lips as you place a gentle kiss on his cheek. His arm snakes across your naked waist, fingers lightly pinching your hip as you smile into his skin.

"Maybe. Drive safe."

Heeseung knows that Dr. Bahng told him to leave work at work. However, Dr. Bahng said nothing about bringing home to work. He said nothing about thinking about you at work, or missing you, or daydreaming about you instead of analyzing the reports that a pair of rookies messed up. He also said nothing about reading articles by some sketchy romance columnist on how to keep your relationship alive, which is exactly what Heeseung was scrolling through right now. 

There are things in a relationship that must always be shared in order to avoid, or resolve conflict. How the other person is making you feel, how you are making them feel, and how to tackle both negative checklists properly. It is key to always remember that it must be you and your partner against the problem, not you and your partner against each other.

You make Heeseung feel…alive. You make him feel loved, cherished, and even at some bizarre times, worshiped. You make him appreciate waking up at the ass crack of dawn, your sleeping face relaxed as he peppers kisses across your warm skin – something he's thankful never manages to wake you up, but it adds to all the adoration he holds in his heart for you.

How does he make you feel? Dejected, neglected, rejected. Pushed aside for the true love of his life – work. You never bring it up unless he asks. You never brought it up until last July, when he was slumped in his office chair after drinking half a bottle of sherry whiskey, listening to music and thinking about yet another dead end that deterred him from finding Soyoung. You had approached him with a gentle gaze, a soft touch to his shoulder and asking about taking a shower together. You never questioned him, you never pressured him, you never tried to make him something you assumed he just wasn't – an attentive, doting husband.

And he remembers how he asked you, too. He remembers spinning around in his chair, stoically asking you if he was everything you'd ever wanted. Asking you if he was living up to your expectations, as a husband, as a life partner, as a friend, even.

And he remembers the way you sighed carefully before perching on his desk. "You're everything I've ever wanted, and I'm sure you'll continue to grow and be even more deserving of the love I hold for you." You had smiled, your hand coming to rest on his cheek. "Nothing we can't work through, you know? If I was given a choice in another life, another world – I'd still choose you."

He will never forget it, and he can still feel the warmth of your lips against his as you led him to the bathroom. He can still feel the ache of your love on his skin from the way you held him under the running water, quietly basking in his presence as the mint of your shampoo filled his nose. Nothing is as special to him as you are. 

There are things that should routinely be shared in order to maintain a homeostasis of the calendar. Asking how their day was, if you have any ideas for dinner tonight, or if you'd like to do something this weekend to celebrate the mundane. It shouldn't be difficult to establish a routine with your partner, if you are in tune with them. A kiss goodbye in the morning, a warm embrace in the evenings. A shared meal, a shared bath, a shared bed. 

Heeseung can't remember the last time he fully checked in with you – you always have something to do. You always attempt new creative projects, and his fingers toy with the fabric of his slacks as he remembers that you hand stitched them. He thinks about how you waited for him all night yesterday, and the disappointment you must have felt when he arrived late. He thinks about how he just doesn't make time to tackle the problem that you two are constantly glossing over by being intimate – he knows you don't feel loved. 

He didn't ask you about your day yesterday, or the day before, or last week. He didn't ask you if you were sewing anything new, learning any new pieces on the piano collecting dust in the living room. He hasn't asked about your mother, but at least he knows you don't like to talk about her. 

Heeseung hasn't asked you a single thing about yourself, or your life in a while – and he doesn't know how long it's been. Even last night, your eyes were focused entirely on him – the way his lips twitched when you said you liked the wine he chose, the way he pulled your leg over his in the booth you were sharing. You asked him about work, and he just shook his head as he pointed out the new menu items. 

You love him so selflessly.

Something that works for my partner and I is parallel play. We aren't necessarily doing something together, but we are present in the same room and doing our own thing. Knowing that he is there, and that if I need him, I can reach for him, adds a comfort to our relationship. Aside from this, we also come together every two weeks and address any issues we may be experiencing – both in our relationship and our individual lives. We resolve the issues about us together, and advise the other on our personal issues. Balance!

You do this a lot. If Heeseung is home, you'll wander to wherever he is and sit down where you can, and quietly go about your business. Sometimes it's a new cross-stitch, sometimes it's just putting a headphone in and listening to music. Sometimes you're giving yourself a pedicure, sometimes you're just sitting there staring at his corkboard of paraphernalia while matching your breathing to his. It was subtle, something you thought he'd never notice.

He sighs, exiting out of the tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. Tugging it on, he uses one hand to log out of his computer when he hears three knocks on the door. A lightness of the rapping knuckles similar to yours…and your smiling face appears as you crack open the door. "Surprise?" He hates that he can't bite back his smile, a few of his fellow officers wide-eyed at his expression. He nods silently, and you extend your hand for him when you hear his coworkers whispering about you. With a dejected look, you tuck your hand back into the pocket of your jeans, "Guess we don't want them gossiping, right?" "Right." He mumbles, his own hand twitching around the doorknob as he pulls it shut behind him. He wants to reach for you, embrace the warmth you bring, show you off to the people he often calls his friends. Sunghoon catches his eye, a quizzical look on his face before shaking his head. 

Heeseung reaches for you, but you've already made your way towards the door. Your smile has lessened as you open the door, holding it for him. "How was work?" You ask as he joins you in the cool air, and he wastes no time wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in close, his nose buried in your hair. You hesitate to wrap your arms around him, instead leaning back to try and meet his eyes. "Hee?" "Don't ask me about work." He mutters, before pressing his lips to yours softly. You let out a noise of surprise, but you can't melt into his touch before he pulls away. "I hate talking about work, let's talk about you. Over lunch." He takes your hand in his, gently pulling you to his side as he makes his way to the car. He doesn't see yours in the parking lot, so he only assumes you got a rideshare before you clear your throat.

"Are you okay?" The words are slightly jumbled as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you, helping you step in. "Hm? Why do you ask?" "Well…you're actually out of the office. And you want to go to lunch…and you don't want to talk about work?" Your voice is meek, and it makes his chest ache as he reaches to buckle your seatbelt in for you. "I just want to spend time with you. Shall we?" His smile is a little forced, until he sees the soft gloss of embarrassment over your eyes.  "Okay."

Tuesday, 6:23pm.

You don't really know what snapped inside of Heeseung over the weekend. He even took Monday off, turning off his phone after calling in sick and snuggling back into your embrace. He spent all of Sunday asking you random questions throughout the day, wandering around the house as you tried to pick up to start the week off fresh. He would hold the laundry basket so you could separate the clothing, he would hold the step stool so you could dust the corners of the living room – he even re-caulked the window in your bedroom because you were sitting at your vanity doing your makeup. He seemed restless to get all of these answers out of you, and while you didn't mind, you knew this attention was only temporary.

Duty called, after all.

However…he was home earlier than usual. He typically had his session with Dr. Bahng right after dinner time, but it seems your habit of making two portions is deemed fruitful tonight. He's sitting in front of you, having arrived home thirty minutes prior – showered and ready to share a meal with you. Just like he did this weekend, just like he did when your relationship first started out.

You remember sharing meals with him in your dorm room. Your roommate was almost never there, always spending time with her girlfriend – so you had free range of the entire place. Heeseung slept over almost every night, and the two of you would stay up at all hours of the night – whether it was discussing 80s cold cases or your major.

Your major…it wasn't necessarily hard. It was one of those things that was only difficult if you didn't really like it, if you didn't have a passion for it. It was one of those things that took someone strong, both mind and body. You wanted to help better the world, see how things could change at your fingertips. You wanted to eat the world in one bite, and it simply wasn't possible – no matter your hard-earned master's degree or your passion for helping people. It was a time of realization – and it was funny, that you had the same qualifications as Dr. Bahng, but your career would never bear fruit like his.

You never really made a difference, like Dr. Bahng did. You didn't even get through to your husband like he did.

So when you came home one night a few years ago and saw Heeseung sitting at the table, waiting for you, you wondered if any of the people you helped that day would ever get to live content. You quit the very next day, your mind tortured over people you didn't know and things you couldn't control. It took a while before you got out of your head again – and even longer before you finally left your bed. It was this time when your relationship with Heeseung really tried to prove itself worthy of your time and effort – because though he wasn't home with you, to soothe your swirling anxieties and racing mind throughout the day, he was there.

He was there, with plates of fruit and warm tea. He was there, with a hairbrush gently forking through your matted hair. He was there, letting you cry yourself to sleep in his embrace and leaving early the next morning, with bags under his eyes. He understood, somehow, that you needed him more than ever before in those moments, and it seemed like that version of Heeseung was starting to reemerge – this time, without need.

"Are you hiding something from me?" You blurt, and Heeseung nearly chokes on his bite of food. Coughing, he reaches for his glass of water as you pat his back, offering him a napkin to wipe his lip. Taking a sip of water, he looks at you. "We haven't spoken all day and that's how you start a conversation?" He seems amused, a look you don't see on him often anymore. You can feel the heat of embarrassment crawling up your throat, and he pushes his plate forward, choosing to fold his hands on the table before he clears his throat. "I realize…I haven't been the best husband." You can feel your eyes begin to roll, when he taps the table. "I have never been very good to you, and yet, you've stood by me. Through ups, downs…you helped me out of a very dark place when Soyoung went missing." He clears his throat again, and your eyes catch the way he blinks back a few tears. "And I've given you near nothing in return." "Marriage is not transactional." You say gently, and he shakes his head. "Isn't it, though? In the eight years we've been together, you've given me so much. You take care of me, of our home. You…You can just do it all, and I admire it. I really, really do." He runs a hand through his hair, before reaching for your hand. You allow him to take it, and you hate to admit that a bit of skepticism is beginning to settle in your stomach. 

"Why are you saying all of this? It's never mattered before, you know." Heeseung can sense something in your tone that you don't seem to catch. A hint of…frustration, anger, maybe even resentment. He knows you probably have more to say, and that whatever it was would most likely hurt his feelings.

He kind of wants you to, though, and you do – letting go of his hand. He folds them, his plate abandoned in order to take you in fully.

"Do you not want to talk about this? I can drop it, but it'll just come back up, honey." He asks gently, his head tilted to the side as he scans your face. You suck on your teeth, your fork pushing your food around before you sigh. "Maybe you're right." "About?" He straightens, his hands still folded on the table. You give him a guilty look, though he doesn't know what you could possibly have to feel guilty about. 

"You're right, you haven't been the best husband. Hell, I don't think you've ever even really been a good husband, if we're being honest about it." 

Heeseung doesn't react, and doesn't allow his face to move as you speak. He's finally broken the dam, because now you're rambling and you can't seem to stop.

"Was it ever going to be me, I mean, really? They say that being good to the people you love really takes no effort, that it's not hard to be doting and attentive to the person you love. You have such a hard time being here for me, you have the worst time detaching yourself from work and the cases you see everyday. You come home at whatever time is convenient for you, while I wait for you like an idiot." You blurt, and Heeseung breathes in carefully, so as to not startle you. He nods, closing his eyes.

He can sense the impending lump in your throat. He's never really seen you get angry – frustrated, irritated, even annoyed have all been emotions he's both seen and enticed. You've never been angry, you've never exploded on anybody.

"Do you ever think what your life would be like if Soyoung were still around?" 

His eyes snap open at this, brow furrowing slightly but either you don't notice or don't seem to care, because you keep going.

"Do you think you'd even care about me if she was here? I get it, she's your best friend, maybe even the love of your life. I wouldn't blame you at all if I was just a placeholder until she was found." 

He's watching your face as you speak, the way your lower lip trembles slightly and your chest rises and falls in shallow breathing. Your hands shake as you reach for the plate in front of him, shoving it under your own before standing up.

His chest aches at the idea of you thinking that anyone but you could ever be the love of his life, but can't bring himself to open his mouth and tell you.

"As shitty as it sounds, the more the years pass, the more I hope she's found. Maybe then you will truly have someone to love, someone who will fulfill your needs just as you like. Maybe then I won't have to pretend that I don't know I'm second to someone who isn't around." You murmur, and Heeseung feels his stomach churn a bit as you stand, taking the plates to the kitchen. You place them in the sink, holding the cool metal of the basin before turning back to him.

"I love you, Heeseung. I loved you then, I love you now, and I may love you for the rest of my life." You speak softly, stepping back to the table. You lean on the back of a chair, the necklace hanging around your neck mocking him in the dim light. "But me loving you, will never make you truly happy. I don't need you to tell me, you know? Knowing I can keep you company, knowing that you won't be alone, is fine with me. You don't need to love me."

You smile gently, the gloss on your lips sparkling. It's one of his favorites, it tastes like vanilla.

"You don't need to love me the way I love you, for me to know you care. So, don't worry about it. You don't need to check in with me, you don't need to…reciprocate." You shrug, taking the cups off the table, and turning back to the kitchen. You stop, looking over your shoulder. "And, Heeseung?" He can't bring himself to speak. He tries to clear his throat, but you proceed anyway.  "Don't forget date night this Friday."

Thursday, 12:46pm.

You'd dropped by the precinct randomly, seeing Heeseung hunched over his computer from the entrance. The new receptionist asked you who you were here to see, and you gave his name, holding up the bag of food you brought with you. 

"Lieutenant Lee doesn't take visitors." The receptionist rolls her eyes, and you hear Sunghoon before you see him. "Minseo, this is the Lieutenant's wife."

You whirl around to see your long-time friend, who smiles down at you. "Good to see you again. Dr. Lee." He speaks politely, making Minseo blush furiously as she prints a pass for you. She apologizes profusely, but you just shake your head and give her a warm smile, adjusting your purse on your shoulder.

"How're you, Hoon?" You ask as you paste the sticker onto your jacket, and he shrugs as he drapes his arm over your shoulders. "Could be better, could be worse. However, I did hear from a little bird that you and Heeseung got into a fight." Rolling your eyes, you know that Sunghoon is just stirring the pot. He seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to your relationship with Heeseung – seeing as he was the one who got the two of you together in the first place. 

"We didn't…ugh, we didn't fight. We just…had a conversation. I'll tell you about it, when are you off? We can get dinner." You say as the two of you reach Heeseung's office. He shakes his head.

"Don't put me in the middle. I'll text you though, we do need to catch up." He says, knocking on Heeseung's door for you. You hear your husband's tired voice, and Sunghoon opens the door. "You've got a special visitor." 

You don't miss the way Heeseung's exhausted eyes look up at you, lighting up the moment they land on your face. You almost crack a smile at this, before Sunghoon shoves you in lightly. "Enjoy your lunch, Lieutenant." Heeseung doesn't say anything. The two of you hadn't really spoken since Tuesday night, and he certainly didn't expect you to come by today. Or any day, really…he remembered the first time you ever dropped by the precinct. He'd welcomed you with a tight smile, before asking you to let him know beforehand next time. You didn't do it again, for years.

"Mind if I close these?" You ask, gesturing to the blinds, and he shrugs. He doesn't close out any of his tabs as you set the food down, kneeling on the couch lining the wall to close his blinds. He takes this moment to take you in. You were wearing his favorite dress on you, the pink one with the white-lined circle seams. You're shrugging off your jacket now that the blinds are closed, draping it over the chair in front of his desk. "I brought you lunch, I hope that's okay. I probably should have called ahead." You gesture to the bag on the table, but his eyes just peer over the monitor, his brow twitching up as you sit gingerly on the edge of the couch. He hadn't cleared up or refuted any of your points on Tuesday, but the guilt he felt that night was enough to make him sleep in the guest room. He didn't know that didn't make you feel any better, in your mind it just cemented your opinions as you let your pillow soak up a few stray tears. 

"You look gorgeous." He murmurs as you unpack quietly, uncapping containers and sniffing them to figure out what is what. You stop, holding a bowl of broth to your face when you register what he said. "What?" "I said, you look gorgeous." He repeats himself, quickly typing up a rather unprofessional email to the rest of the precinct and letting them know he'd be leaving after lunch. He shoots it off, exiting the tab before standing up and stretching. His shirt is messily untucked, and he can feel your eyes on him as he twists to relax his back muscles. "Thank you…I think." He shrugs, ignoring the pang in his chest at your uncertainty before glancing over the array of food you'd brought with you. You seem a bit unsure about it all, but they're all his favorite dishes. He doesn't see any of yours – no soft tofu stew, no cold noodles, not even the tea you like. He keeps scanning your face as you prepare everything silently.

"Have you eaten already? I know you don't like any of these dishes." He asks, squatting next to you. You smile down at him, shrugging. "I'll eat at home. You left breakfast on the table this morning, so I figured you'd be hungry."

He had left breakfast on the table, but not for the reason you think. His morning routine consisted of showering, brushing his teeth and washing his face, putting his clothes on and, as creepy as it sounds, staring at you as you slept. He didn't kiss you this morning, like he usually did, but he desperately wanted to. So much so that he lost track of time just watching you sleep so peacefully, and had to run out of the house without it.

"I'm sorry, baby. I was in a rush." He pouts, and you just shake your head. "Don't worry about it. What's one day?"

It's everything. He thinks he feels your cold demeanor seep into his bones a bit, but your eyes are still warm as ever. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes, but your hand ruffles his hair lightly. He lifts slightly to sit next to you, and you press your lips to his cheek, your lipstick stamping on his skin. "You smell nice." He doesn't respond, his cheeks and ears tinging pink as you hand him utensils. Leaning back, you rest your head against the window sill, not noticing he's made no effort to even touch the food you've brought. Still, better now than never.

"I have something to tell you." You murmur, and he hums in response. 

"I figured about as much." He leans back with you, holding a rice cake between his teeth before shoving into his mouth. "Do tell, Dr. Lee." You stare at your manicured nails, the french tip suddenly bothersome to your eyes. "I had an interview this morning, at the fifth precinct. In the next town over. " 

He sits up, turning to face you completely. "Okay. How'd it go? I did hear that Dr. Park was retiring." Not a hint of malice in his voice, just pure curiosity. Encouragement, support.

"They said I can start next week. Three patients a day for two weeks, and then I will take over Dr. Park's patients as well. Well, those who want to transfer over." You don't know why you're nervous telling him this. His eyes scan your face, and you groan. "Why are you staring at me?" "You don't seem very happy about it." He says, tilting his head to the side as he bites into another rice cake. "I am happy about it. I just…it's a little far and I won't be home before you are on nights you're not set to see Dr. Bahng. I won't get to make dinner and I'll be out of the house before you are most days." 

You stop yourself from rambling, watching as Heeseung looks at you intently. He glances at the food spread out on the table, before shoving the other half of the rice cake he bit into his cheek. "C'mon."

He gets up, yanking his coat off the hanger by the door, before opening it. "Where are we going? Heeseung, the food-" "Sunghoon, lunch on me." He calls out the door, before grabbing your jacket off the chair and your purse. Looking at you, he watches as you sit still, confusion on your face before he walks over, draping your jacket over your shoulders. "C'mon, we've got to celebrate. We can go to that French place you love." 

Amused, you shove your arms through the sleeves of your jacket before standing. "Heeseung, you hate that place." Rolling your eyes, you reach for your purse, only for him to grab your hand and pull you in. His lips are on yours, a chaste kiss shared before he leans his forehead against yours.

"But I love you, and I'm proud of you. So let me show you, yeah?" 

You blink up at him, before hearing Sunghoon's grunt of feigned disgust. "C'mon, guys, not in the office!"

"Shut up, man." Heeseung rolls his eyes, lacing his fingers in yours, and you hear the soft clink of metal. Ignoring the bickering between the two men, you look down, you see his engraved wedding band gleaming up at you, having knocked with an old silver ring of his that you'd taken after it stopped fitting him. "You're wearing your ring." "Hm?" He glances down at you, before smiling. "Oh, yeah. I figured…I don't know. I like seeing it, it was silly of me to think the way I did about it."

Sunghoon scoffs at the sudden mushiness, and you look up to see half the precinct staring you down. Heeseung has your lipstick stamped on his cheek, and you feel embarrassed as the two of you get walked out by Sunghoon. Jungwon passes by, doing a double take when he sees the lipstick on your husband's face.

He smiles at you, a knowing look in his eyes as the two of you skirt past. Heeseung stops at the receptionist's desk, her smile disappearing the moment she sees your lipstick on his cheek. He asks her to cancel all his appointments for the day, and to let Captain Choi know that he would be taking the weekend off. She just nods, and Heeseung bids everyone goodbye with a whistle.

"She hates me, you know." You mumble, and he gives your hand a squeeze. “She can hate you all she wants, doesn’t change anything. Waste of her own energy.”

You don’t know what to make of this. In a way, you think you’ve forgotten your husband’s demeanor. Heeseung squeezes your hand again, "Where's your car? Did you take a rideshare?"

His brow is furrowed as he scours the parking lot for your sedan, and you shake your head. "Saving gas, I have quite the commute." He scrunches his nose, before shrugging as the two of you make your way to his car.

He opens the door for you quietly, helping you up and going as far as taking your purse to hang behind his headrest. You always complained about the feeling of the straps against your neck when you leaned your head back.

"So." He starts, his fingers carefully turning the volume dial down as the soft jazz station he plays on his commute bleeds through the speakers. "So…what?" "Why didn't you tell me you were thinking of going back to work? I thought we told each other everything." He says pointedly, as he makes a turn into the street. The light at the end is still green, if he speeds up a bit, he should make it. He sees you shrug out of the corner of his eye.

"Didn't think it'd be important. If I'm honest, I didn't think you'd notice." He doesn't like the twinge of sadness in your voice, but you clear your throat before he can mention it. "Should we take a walk later, as well? The weather feels great." "Yeah, honey. Whatever you want." He nods, his turn signal flicked by his ring finger, and he doesn't miss your eyes on his hands as he makes the turn. "Hee?" "Yes?" "I'm sorry." You murmur, making him glance at you quickly before you turn your head back to look out the window. Before you know it, he's pulling into an empty parking lot behind an apartment complex, ignoring the onlooking eyes of a woman taking her trash out. He parks carefully, turning the car off before turning in his seat to look at you.

"Sorry?" He echoes, and you peer over your shoulder at him. Your eyes are glossed over, and he huffs out a humorless laugh. "Oh, my baby. Come here." His arms wrap around you carefully, your hands coming to cover your face as he tucks you into his shoulder. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N." "I do. I do, Heeseung. I was such a jerk on Tuesday–" Your muffled words stop as he pulls away, his warm fingers circling your shoulders and giving a soft squeeze. "No. You weren't a jerk, you were trying to communicate with me." "Still, I–" "No, Y/N. If anything, I've been a jerk." He huffs, letting go of your shoulders as his back hits the window lightly. "I've never been a good partner to you, and it's so incredibly unfair of me to think that you will just wait and wait until I just feel like being better to you." You blink at him owlishly, adjusting to tuck your legs under you. Your heels now sit on the car floor.

"I have never been good to you. No matter what it is, no matter where I am, I push you aside time and time again. It's like…" He stops, picking at his cuticles before sighing. "I love you so much. It's so hard for me to say and I still feel like some stupid teenager trying to figure out his feelings, but I know. I know I love you and I know you deserve to be loved far more than I can express." You rest your temple against the headrest, "Not everyone goes through what you did, though. I'd be foolish to think loving you would be an ordinary path." "And then you go and do that. God, you're so understanding and it kills me inside." He smiles pitifully, running a hand through his hair. "I want to deserve it. I want to come home and deserve the warm meals you make, I want to lay in bed with you and deserve your touch and your warmth and I want to deserve you."

His eyes sting with tears, and he hears a soft sigh from your lips. Lips he yearns for every second of the day, lips he loves to feel trail along his neck after a long day at work. Lips he pulls whines and moans out of, lips he kisses shimmery vanilla lip gloss off of.

You don't say anything, your fingers reaching for him in his lap. You interlock your hands, bringing his up to your lips and placing a soft kiss on his knuckles.

"I've thought about divorce, you know." You say quietly, his head snapping up to look at you. "What?" "Yeah." You breathe out, your fingers tightening around him. "I thought about leaving, I thought about taking one of the offers I've received in the last seven years for a job in the middle of a new city. I thought about packing up all my clothes, and phoning my mother for help. I figured, if she's my attorney, I can leave everything to you in lieu of me." Heeseung can feel his chest ache as you turn to look at him, your pearl drop earrings swinging with your hair as you do so. He feels like he's in a movie.

"But, I thought about being nineteen with you." "Nineteen?" "Nineteen." You laugh softly, your thumb now rubbing small circles into his skin. You place your other hand atop the pair, enveloping him in your warmth. "I thought about nineteen-year-old me, who saw nineteen-year-old you and felt the world come to a slow, slow stop."

You're staring up into the sky now, the odd sighting of the moon high in the sky at this hour was a good distraction. "I thought, what can I do to deserve him? What can I do to ease his pain, and help him hop through life until his answers are found, until he no longer needs me?" 

"I'll always need you." He blurts, and you nod. "You're selfish like that." He silently nods in agreement, and you speak again. "You're a selfish lover." "I know." He mumbles, not able to look you in the eyes as you sigh. "But, I like it."

"I like that you're selfish." You repeat, and he gives you a quick look. "I like that even when I don't feel loved by you, you wouldn't survive without me. In lieu of me, who?" Your voice is sweet, but he knows your words hold a bit of bitterness. You like the idea of him being nothing without you, and he can't blame you for that. If you'd treated him the way he did you, he'd wish ill upon you until he no longer could. He'd hate you.

"Shall we go?" You ask gingerly, and he nods as he turns in his seat, letting go of your hand. You allow it, buckling in your seatbelt as he readies himself, turning the key in the slot before you clear your throat. "Heeseung?" "Yes?" He hates the eagerness in his voice. He hates how he's like a dog the moment you offer a crumb of your attention, but it's what he deserves. He wants to be a lovesick fool for you, he wants your every word to burn and weigh on him like the heat of a thousand fires.

Your gentle smile kills him as you look into his eyes, a shrug to your shoulders as you let the words slip.

"I love you."

Saturday, 6:43pm.

Thursday afternoon and all of Friday had been rather odd in your house.

Heeseung spent the days trailing behind you, even offering to take you out to shop for outfits for your new job in lieu of date night. You weren't surprised, though – he was always a fan of the way you styled yourself for work. Classy dresses, skirts that fell just below the knee. Long sleeved blouses with jeweled buttons, he felt like a Victorian man going nuts over the sight of your pantyhose-covered ankles.

Tonight, he'd made it a point to get slightly tipsy. You'd gone to a luncheon with your new boss earlier, so you'd arrived just as he was finishing up vacuuming the living room with a half-empty glass of bourbon and Stardust by Ben Webster played throughout the house. He wanted a bit of liquid courage for the conversation he knew the two of you had to have – that is, if he wanted things to start changing for the better.

"Hee?" You called from the foyer, watching as he spun to look at you, face slightly flushed from the alcohol. You let out a laugh, shrugging your coat off as he trekked the living room to greet you. "Babe! How was lunch? I figured I'd clean up here a bit, I know you hate when it gets messy…" Heeseung rambled on about the housework as you gingerly stepped out of your heels, nodding along to his tipsy conversation. You left your shoes in the tiled foyer, walking towards the kitchen for a drink of your own. Heeseung had bought you your favorite sherry whiskey as a congratulatory gift on your new job.

"Wait, let me pour. You must be tired." He stops you from grabbing the bottle off the bar in the kitchen, choosing to skirt around you and open the fridge for a nice cube of ice. You liked two, he remembers. "How was the lunch? Did you eat?" You shrug, "I nibbled. It wasn't very good, it was at that Italian place we don't like." You scrunch your nose as Heeseung hands you your drink, making his lips curve slightly. "Funny, I was going to say we should give it another try." "No way, they fucked up my tiramisu. Remind me to never recommend that place to Sunghoon." You scoff, missing the way your husband's eyes trail your relaxed form as you lean against the counter. "And one of the other doctors was asking me so many questions about myself, it was so annoying. Like, we're not going to be best friends, man." "Like what?" He asks, listening to My Foolish Heart by Bill Evans Trio echo through the house. It was one of the songs played at your wedding, one of the first songs you and Heeseung ever danced to in college. "Oh, Dr. Lee, are you married? Oh, Dr. Lee, do you have kids? Oh, Dr. Lee, what does your husband do? Like shut up! Why does it matter, you're my husband, not his." You roll your eyes, not noticing the way Heeseung's cheeks flush at your words. Downing your drink in one go, you wince slightly, likely from the ice clinking against your teeth but you shake it off. "So, what do we want for dinner?" You poke at his side, and his arm reaches for you. You willingly bring yourself into his embrace, his arms looping around you gently as your fingers hold his t-shirt. "You look so pretty in your little outfit." "Dinner, Heeseung. Use your noggin." You roll your eyes, and he just peers down at you with an odd look in his eyes. Full of…admiration? "You're so beautiful." You feel your cheeks warm as you try to play off his effect on you, clicking your tongue. "I need you to focus here, Lieutenant. Me, your wife, would like dinner." "I heard you, baby." He nods, pulling you closer. You huff, but allow yourself to rest your head against his chest. The two of you had not been…close in this manner in a very long time – you couldn't possibly date the last time he held you like this, it was that long ago. You hate how easily you're melting into him, the warmth of his body, the gentle caressing of his hands to the rhythm of the jazz song playing in the living room.

"Should we get take out? We can watch that movie you like, the one with Al Pacino." He murmurs, carefully tugging the elastic out of your hair, releasing the curls from the ponytail you'd tied back earlier. You nod against him quickly, "And Keanu Reeves?" The two of you look at each other, and he can feel a laugh bubble in his throat at how excited you look as he nods. "Yeah." "Okay! Okay, I'm…gonna go change, and then we can get settled and stuff. Okay?" You blink up at him, your fingers already making quick work of the buttons on your shirt. His lip is tucked between his teeth as his eyes rake your skin, and you scoff, tugging your shirt to cover your chest. "Heeseung! Pay attention!" "I am, baby! I am paying attention!" He laughs, throwing his hands up in defense. "God forbid I want to look at you!" "You're such a man, ugh!" You stick your tongue out at him, turning on your heel when you hear him call after you. "Yeah, well, I'm your man. Deal with it!" You hate how his words make you feel like a teenager as you scamper to your bedroom, quickly discarding your work clothes into the hamper by the door. You can hear Heeseung speaking on the phone in the kitchen, soft thank yous from his lips as you unclasp your bra, sighing in relief as you dig through your husband's drawer when you hear him start walking down the hall. 

"Jesus, warn a guy." He gasps dramatically from the doorway, and you roll your eyes as you tug one of his old band tees over your head. "Heeseung, you've literally eaten my ass." "You said you liked it!" He protests, and you snort. "It was okay. You act like you're so amazed by my boobs, you've seen them hundreds of times." You flip your hair out of the shirt, opening your own drawer to fish out a pair of bottoms. 

"Doesn't make me love them any less." He shrugs, checking his watch. "We have twenty minutes until the food gets here." You look up at him, your fingers rooting through the drawer as you take in his avoidant look. He's nibbling on his lower lip as he stares up at the ceiling fan, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. You scoff, "Honey, we've been together for eight years. If you want to have sex, you can say that." "You make me nervous!" He groans, and you laugh out loud. "What has gotten into you, Lee Heeseung? One week you're begging to eat me out and the next you can't even look at me in my underwear! Are you alright?" You snort as you pull out a pair of his old basketball shorts, and he sighs. "Uhm…Okay, fine. I want to talk about our…sex life? The…uhm, the way we kind of just skirt around all our issues with it." You blink, and you want to tell your heart not to get its hopes up at his words. This will all change in a week, your relationship is beyond fixing.

Right? "Okay. What about it? You don't like that we have sex when we can't communicate?" You nod, pulling the shorts over your legs and letting the waistband snap around your hips. He nods, fiddling with his watch when you put your hand on his wrist. "I need you to talk to me, Heeseung. You wanted to talk about this." "It's…" He breathes, running a hand through his hair as you pull him to the bed, sitting down as he slots himself between your knees. His fingers toy with the hem of the shorts you're wearing, clearing his throat. "I don't want you to think I don't…enjoy it. I love…being with you, in any way you'll have me." "Uh huh?" You interlace your fingers with his, his eyes avoiding yours. "I…want to stop doing that. I know that it's a big part of how we stay connected, uhm, intimately. I know I haven't been making much time for you outside of the bedroom and that's something I want to work on." You can feel your heart pick up a bit.

"So…you want to stop having sex altogether? Or you'd like to…fight and make up?" You tilt your head, feeling a wave of nervousness begin to seep into your stomach. He shakes his head quickly, "I don't think I could ever…I'd like to fight. A lot. As much as we need to." He blinks rapidly, eyes still avoiding yours when you nod slowly. "And…you want to have sex spontaneously? Do you want to schedule it? Do you want to–" "I'm good with whenever. You can have me anytime you want, even if you don't want to have sex for the next year. I'm all yours, whenever." He interrupts, his cheeks burning pink as he clears his throat. You narrow your eyes, "Oookay. You know that goes both ways, right?" "I don't think you understand the willpower it takes not to be all over you every single second of my waking hours." His eyes are now squeezed shut, and you can feel your own cheeks warm as you feel his fingers flex around yours. You let out a soft ha, before nodding. "O-Okay, sure." "So…we're okay? Can we start taking things a little slower?" He asks with a wince, and you nod. "Absolutely." He nods, "Cool, cool. Uhm…I'll wait in the living room for you, okay? I'll set up the movie." He pulls away with a gentle squeeze to your hands, a soft smile playing on his lips as he ducks out of the bedroom. You feel your stomach sink a bit, but out of relief. You feel…lighter.

You didn't mind the once-a-week sessions with Heeseung. He'd come home, the two of you would be particularly agitated – you because you felt pushed aside, Heeseung because of work, because he didn't have enough time for you, because he just wanted to feel some sort of peace. You'd try and start a conversation, only for him to push you back on the couch or the bed, or even the carpet in your living room and kiss you breathless. His tongue would slip into your mouth with practiced precision, his hand pinning your wrists above your head as he begged you to just let him take care of you.

You didn't mind because every touch from him was just right. His lips dragging against your jaw, his fingers shoved down your pants while he whispered sweet nothings. You don't know if Heeseung remembers any of the things he says during sex – how much he loves you, something he can't openly say when he's fully in his five senses. Despite feeling the way you did about your relationship with Heeseung, sex was never something you had to feel worried about – he would get just as drunk off you as he did his favorite bourbon. Sex with Heeseung was like a rollercoaster, even the very first time. He knew every button to push, every spot to caress, to kiss, to bite. He made you feel like you were swimming in a pool of lust and love and you couldn't help but cry during the middle of it all sometimes, only to feel his tongue carefully collecting your tears. "You're so pretty."

Shivering, you fan at yourself before sliding off your bed, making a beeline to your bathroom. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him softly swaying to yet another jazz song as he drapes one of your favorite blankets across the couch. You can't help but smile inwardly, shutting the door behind you as you look at yourself in the mirror. Sighing, you grab for your face wash, not able to stop thinking.

Heeseung does love you. He does, even if he's not good at saying it. He does, even if it means he bruises the stupid tattoo you got of his initials with how tight he holds your hips. He does, because he lets you claw at his tattoo of your initials on his shoulder. You still remember being drunk out of your mind when you stumbled into the studio to get them done.

And you remember that being the first sign that being with Heeseung was not temporary. You hadn't even had sex at that point in your relationship – choosing to cement your relationship with a permanent reminder. One that you knew was under his shirt even when his ring wasn't on his finger, one he knew was just under your panties even when you were mad at him for not spending time with you.

"Baby! Food's here!"  You hear Heeseung call as you reach for your moisturizer.

Baby. A silly pet name you'd missed dearly, a silly pet name he'd used three times just today. "Coming!" You call, quickly wiping the sink of water and opening the bathroom door, scurrying out. He's sprawled across the couch, the containers of takeout spread out on the coffee table in front of him. His hand is messing with the remote, typing The Devil's Advocate into your Amazon Prime account. 

"Hey." He murmurs, feeling you press a kiss to the crown of his head. He doesn't know why he's so nervous – he's literally seen you naked. You ruffle his hair, before rounding the couch and sitting gingerly on the floor. You didn't like to eat on the couch, Heeseung knew that. You slid in front of him, your shoulders pushing his knees apart as you rested your head on the left one. He says nothing, only leaning back as he presses play on the film.

The silence between you is comfortable. You're chewing carefully, soft gasps from your lips as if you hadn't watched this movie hundreds of times. He can't help but think if this was what he was missing out on while he was at work. You, dressed down in his clothing, holding your mouth open around a particularly overstuffed pork bun as Al Pacino dips his fingers into Holy Water.

"You're cute." He murmurs to himself, and you lean your head back slightly, a bit of hoisin sauce on the corner of your lip as you chew. "Hm?" "You're cute, babe." He shakes his head, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You blink at him, before twisting to look at him properly. Your brows furrow as you swallow, and you click your tongue. You give him a suspicious glance before turning back to the television, shrugging your shoulders as you lean back again.

He likes this. He could get used to it.

Heeseung cleaned up after you finished eating. He even ran the water for your shower, opting to go in after you. You'd pouted, asking him to go in with you – but he insisted he still had things to finish up before he could even think about winding down.

However, when you arrive in the bedroom with your hair wrapped in a towel and a baggy shirt over your shoulders, he can't help but take a peek. He sees the lavender trim of your underwear from his stance in the closet as you bend slightly to fish out a pair of sweatpants, his fingers tightening around the hanger in his hand. It breaks, the crack making you suddenly look up.

"What was that?" Your eyes are wide, scanning him as you pull out a random pair of shorts. He sheepishly hides his hand behind his back, shaking his head quickly. "Nothing, honey. Oh, I saw that you were running out of your serum…thing. The one for your hair, it's in the drawer." He pressed his lips together as he nodded, and you squint at him before opening the top drawer. Sure enough, the Biosilk bottle sits pretty, wrapped in the bag you knew was from the beauty supply store. You take it out, but see Heeseung grimace in the mirror. You peer at him, before seeing the broken hanger in his hand. Rolling your eyes, 

"Maybe if you weren't so busy trying to get a peek at my underwear, you wouldn't have broken that." "Shut up." He scoffs, cheeks heating as he skirts out of the closet, throwing the hanger away in the trashcan by the door. You just shake your head, unwrapping the bottle as he appears next to you. "It's that one, right?" "Yeah, Hee. Thank you." You nod, placing it closer to the mirror. You look up at him through the mirror, noting the way he's gazing at you lovingly. "You're staring." "So?" He shrugs, and you scoff. "Get in the shower, Heeseung. I'm sleepy." "Don't fall asleep without me!" He presses his lips to your temple suddenly, and you don't get a chance to react before he's gone. You hear the door shut behind him, and you quickly grab your phone from its spot on the nightstand, abandoning the shorts you had in your hand on the dresser.

Msg To: Park Sunghoon [9:32pm] please please tell me you won't call hee in to work tmrw

You nibble on your lips, watching as Sunghoon reads the message. His chat bubble pops up, then goes back down. 

Msg From: Park Sunghoon [9:33pm] i'll run it by the guys here in a bit, and i'll let you know. cool?

You don't reply, only giving him a thumbs up reaction. Setting your phone down, you move around for your night routine. Moisturizer, curl cream…before the large bed behind you calls your name as a siren does to shipwrecked pirates.

Flopping face down, you sigh into the pillow. You weren't ready to start working on Monday – you weren't ready to leave the comfort of your home, to talk to people all day about their problems again. You weren't ready for your mother to find out through her connections that you're practicing again.

You weren't ready to stop making two portions of dinner for your husband who wouldn't get home on time, you weren't ready to not be kissed all over in the morning even though he thought you were asleep. You'd never sleep through something so tender.

"Babe, I said don't fall asleep!" You hear Heeseung whine, and you groan into your pillow before flipping onto your back with your eyes closed. "I'm not sleeping! I'm just…resting my eyes." "That's sleeping." He's closer now, and you feel his lips press on your forehead. "It's fine, we have all day tomorrow." "If they don't call you into work." You grumble, and he pinches your cheek, before you feel your husband's lips brush the shell of your ear. "You should never trust Sunghoon to relay a message." "Fuck off!" You whine, shoving him away as you open your eyes. His hair has been dried, his bottom half tucked into a pair of flannel pajama pants. He's holding an old tshirt in his hand as he rounds the bed, "You're not planning on sleeping on top of the duvet, are you?" "Some of us get hot at night." You scowl, but a yelp gets caught in your throat as you feel him yank you to the edge of the bed by your ankle. You narrow your eyes as you look up at him, seeing your husband smiling down at you with a tilt to his head.

"Why the attitude, princess? Something wrong?" 

He's talking down to you, something that makes your cheeks heat. You furrow your brows, scoffing as you prop yourself up on your elbows. His hand leaves your ankle, splaying on the skin of your thigh. "Why would anything be wrong?" He shrugs, his smile still digging into your very bones. "I figured I'd ask, since you begged Sunghoon not to call me this weekend." "Sunghoon is a rat, you know this. Remember when you pushed Jay's head into his birthday cake and Sunghoon immediately dogged you? Why would you believe him?" You try to rationalize your way out of answering his questions, but Heeseung nods as if he's understanding. "You're right, baby. I shouldn't believe him, someone who snitches everyone out because he believes there aren't enough honest people in this world." You scoff at his pointed look, knowing that Heeseung likes the little game you play. He likes cornering you, he likes giving you no way out. He likes the way your skin gets a little warmer under his touch.

"Okay, fine. I admit it!" You groan, falling back onto the bed. "God forbid I want to spend some time with my husband before I'm sent away." You drape your arm dramatically over your eyes, hearing Heeseung laugh above you. You hadn't had a night like this in so long, you can nearly feel the stupid butterflies from your college days floating back around you.

"You're going to work, you're not being shipped off to another country." He removes your arm from over your face, revealing your scrunched nose. He kisses the tip of it, seeing your cheeks bloom pink. "Yeah…" You sigh, before gently placing your hands on Heeseung's cheeks. He smiles down at you, "Yeah?" "I'll miss you." You admit, and his eyes soften as he captures your lips softly. His hands move to your hips, squeezing softly as he pulls back. "I'll miss you too, baby. It'll just take some getting used to." "Will you drive me on Monday?" You blurt, seeing his eyes widen as he nods quickly. "Absolutely. How early? Six? Seven?" You did not expect him to agree so fast. "Uhm, I have to be out of here by six-thirty to get there before the clinic opens." Your husband nods, and you watch the way his eyes move around as he does calculations in his head. "So…we'd be up by five?" He nods to himself, and you shrug. "You don't have to, I'm sorry I brought it up." "Kindly shut the hell up." He rolls his eyes, and you mimic his actions, pulling him back down to your lips. You don't say anything, only kissing him gently as his fingers toy with the hem of your underwear. You can tell he's holding back, not wanting to have this moment go like your usual nights together. He can't stop kissing you back though, and you can feel him slightly rutting against your leg.

"You're humping my leg." You whisper into his lips, and he shrugs, his fingers tugging down your underwear in one swift motion. "Don't care. Lie down." He pushes you back, quickly pushing your shirt up your chest until you get the hint and slip it off.

"What happened to taking it slow?" You tease as he kisses down your stomach, hissing as he nips just above your belly button. "This is slow, but if you want me to stop, I will." He looks up at you, eyes dark. You shake your head, earning another nip from his teeth.

"Words, princess." You flush deeper, nibbling on your lip as you speak. "Keep going." He raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. "Please." "You're such a brat." He rolls his eyes, before sinking to his knees on the carpet. He pulls you closer to the edge of the bed by your knees, one of your legs over his shoulder as he kisses down your thighs. You're squirming, earning a quick slap to your leg. "Stop." "S-Sorry." You mumble, feeling him nose at your pussy. He inhales deeply, a groan from his lips as he places a soft kiss on your clit, a sharp breath caving your stomach in. "Pretty, always so pretty for me." 

You don't get a chance to respond to his muttering, feeling his tongue drag purposefully through your folds. You sigh shakily, your fingers finding his hand that rested on your stomach. He laces your fingers together as he licks at you with an agonizingly slow place.

"F-faster." You whine, feeling him smile into your wet heat. "I said I'd take it slow, princess. You can wait, right? Be a good girl f'me." You suck in yet another sharp breath as his pouty lips wrap around your clit, his hand squeezing yours gently as you whimper. Your hips grind carefully against his tongue, taking all your willpower to not beg him to touch you more. "Missed you. Missed this." He murmurs, letting go of your hand to pull you impossibly closer, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he fucks his tongue into your aching center.

"M-Missed you." You whine, your hand finding home in his hair. "Pull it." He mutters into your pussy, and you tug harshly as he groans into you. The vibrations are torture, your whimpers filling the room. He takes his time, and you can feel your thighs threatening to close around his head.

"Want m-more. P-Please?" You gasp out, and you almost feel angry at the way your husband chuckles. "What happened to taking it slow? You're that needy? Can't cum like this?" You huff, yanking on his hair – earning a low moan. He obliges anyway, slipping his pants down as he stands. He towers over you, your eyes wide at his glistening lips as his hand snakes down between your legs. You shake your head, pulling it away as he laughs breathily. "Baby, I can't–" "I can take it. Please? I can, I promise." You beg, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He watches as you lick them clean, your tongue snaking around his wedding band. You're really and truly his for the taking, loving, fucking.

He shudders, leaning to kiss you softly. Your lips only taste of sin, your tongue sliding into his mouth with practiced ease. He groans quietly, his hard cock sliding against your soaked cunt as you whimper into his mouth. “Please, please—”

“I know baby, I know.” He murmurs, sinking into you slowly with a choked moan. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, feeling your shaky breathing against his neck. He gives an experimental roll of his hips, relishing in the burn of your nails dragging down his back with a groan. Pushing your hands off him, he pins them above your head, interlocking your fingers.

"I love you." His lips are pressed to yours before you can respond, hips snapping at a menacing pace. Your breath gets caught in your throat, pressing your bare chest to his as he trails his mouth down your jaw. "Can never get enough of you." His soft whispers receive nothing but your whines, your hand squeezing his as he mouthed at whatever skin he could reach. "Could never ask for a better woman." He whispers into your ear, his teeth nipping tirelessly in efforts to burn himself into you forever.

"Can never get you off my mind. Think about you all day, baby." He lets go of your hands, circling his fingers around your thighs and spreading them further. You clench around him, your hands covering your face as a whine slips from his throat, fucking into you harder.

"W-Wanna live in this pussy, fuck." He groans, feeling your gummy walls tighten around him, his hand snaking down to play with your clit. Your moan is sharp, thighs threatening to close around his hips but he forces them apart as your eyes gloss over. "Need you to cum f'me, pretty. N-Need you to cream all over this dick." You open your mouth to speak, only to have it covered by his lips as he leans down to kiss you. He sucks on your tongue messily, feeling your fingers rake through his hair as you pull him back, mouthing at his neck. "W-Want you to cum inside m-me." You mumble, feeling his hips stutter against the swell of your ass, but he quickly falls back into rhythm.

"Y-Yeah? Fuck, want me to fill you up? I'll give you everything, baby. Anything you want, shit–" He whines into your neck, spurred on by your soft whimpers of yeah, yeah – your nails dragging across his back once more, your fingers digging into his tattoo of your initials almost angrily. Your release rips through you with a loud whine, coating his thighs and soaking into the sheets, clenching like a vice around him as he straightens himself.

"Shit, honey–" His eyes are low as he tucks his lip between his teeth, pushing your knees to your chest as he pounds into you, pulling sobs from your throat as he fucks you through your orgasm. His head falls forward as he cums inside you, his fingers finding yours and squeezing like his life depends on it. 

"Fuck." He mutters, pressing his forehead to your chest, the room filling with sounds of your panting and his lips trailing wetly along your shoulders and neck. "When did you…have you ever done that before?" "I don't think so." You breathe out, and his skin feels sticky but he doesn't care. "What…" He straightens, bearing his weight on his elbows as he peers down at you. You're glowing softly, your eyes slightly lower than when you'd started, lips swollen from his teeth pulling at them. "What changed? How can I be better?" Your cheeks flush deeper, shaking your head gently. "I don't–" "C'mon. What was it? You've never had complaints before." He says pointedly, and you smile. "Nothing to complain about, you always do well." "But?" He probes, his eyes locked on yours, and you sigh, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead. "I don't know, Hee. I guess…I just like when you talk to me." Communication.

His eyes narrow as he thinks, thinking back to all the times you've had sex. He's sure he's spoken to you then, likely incoherent, pussydrunk babbles–

"When you said…" Your voice fades, closing your eyes as you shake your head. "Nevermind." "I could never ask for a better woman." 

It dawns on him, looking back down at you. Your eyes avoid his as you gently thumb at a red line down his shoulder, cause of your fingernails, but he tilts your face with his hand. His fingers squish the fat of your cheeks, a tear slipping from your eyes as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. "I could never ask for a better woman, my love." Your eyes flutter closed as he peppers kisses across your face, tears continuing to fall as he kisses your cheeks. "I love you, okay? I'm so fucking sorry for making you feel like you're not the most important thing to me in this world. I'd die for you, I'd kill for you, okay?" You nod silently, but your lip curls into a smile as he buries his face into your neck. "I'm not a thing, Hee." "Shut up." He whines, and you laugh. "I love you, too. I could never ask for a better man, ever." "God, don't. We won't leave this bed." He groans, and you nip at his earlobe, sucking it gently. "You promise?"

Monday, 5:32am.

He did promise.

You and Heeseung did not leave your bedroom once on Sunday. Well, he did – when he grabbed the food delivery you ordered, and to get you water on multiple occasions. You changed your sheets twice only to ruin them again, the sex messier and wetter the longer you and Heeseung went at it. He took everything you gave him in any position he could fold you into – but nothing beat seeing you laid out on your back, his fingers bruised into your hips and love bites blooming all over your body. He liked admiring you from above, sure – but he loved nothing more than his face shoved between your legs, suffocated by your warm, wet heat.

Your whimpers were burned into his mind, so much so he could hardly leave you alone when night approached. You practically had to beg him to get in the shower, his only request being that you join him. 

By join him, he meant pressing you against the tiles and sinking his teeth into your neck and shoulders as he slid himself through your thighs over and over again. He bit down your back mercilessly, sinking to his knees behind you and lapping his tongue against your cum-coated cunt like a man starved.

Needless to say, the water ran cold and you had shampoo in your hair for an hour.

He didn't care, though. He kissed you deeply, wanting to feel every inch of you all over him before bidding you goodnight. He wanted to wake up early and make you breakfast, he wanted to pick out your pretty blouse and your heels. He wanted to be involved in your life.

"Rise and shine, baby." He whispered into your hair, holding a plate in his left hand as he pinched the fat of your cheek in the other. You groan, pushing his hand away as you roll onto your back. The duvet slips down, revealing your bitten skin. He caresses it gently, his eyes glued to your face as he goes lower. Your hand catches his wrist before he can cup your breast, peeling your eyes open reluctantly.

"I can't let you near me, you'll fuck me into the mattress." You mutter, making him smile. "Maybe don't beg me to cum inside you, and I'll leave you alone." He holds up the plate in his hand, his chest swelling at your blushing cheeks. "I made breakfast, can you get up now? I want to pick your clothes!" Your eyes widen slightly as you sit up, letting the duvet pool around your belly button as you wipe at your inner corners. "Really? You want to?" "I love seeing you dressed up for work, babe. Can I? I'll make it pretty, I promise." He draws an x over his chest, and he notices how you can't bite back a smile as you take the plate from him. He turns away as you reach for the bedside lamp, clicking it on as he practically skips into your shared closet.

"You're really chipper…" You trail off, shoveling a peach slice into your mouth. He shrugs, holding up two shirts before putting them back. "It's your first day, and I read something a few years ago about marital ambiance. If I'm in a crappy mood, it'll rub off on you. We can't have that, can we?" He smiles widely as he pulls out a black dress you hadn't worn in ages – the sleeves were long and slightly flared, and the flowy skirt ended just above your knee. The neck was high, so you wouldn't be exposing any of your weekend shenanigans. "This one? Haven't seen this in, what, two years?" "We can try that one, yeah." You speak around a mouthful of oatmeal, and he nods as he turns to your shoes. "Are you walking a lot? Or can we go for the Hot Chicks?" He holds up the black leather heels, and you just smile and shake your head. "I'll take my slippers anyway, so we can go with the Hot Chicks." 

"I checked the temperature outside, it'll be a little chilly until lunch time. Do you want pantyhose? Stockings?" He drapes the dress over his arm as he worms out of the closet, placing your shoes on the dresser as he opens a drawer. You like the sight of your husband like this. Excited for you, eager to see you take a step forward after being (willingly) stagnant for so long. You were afraid that maybe he'd discourage it – you'd overheard him talking to Sunghoon once about how your last job nearly made you lose your mind, and how worried he'd been about you.

He wasn't wrong, either – the fact that your impact felt so minuscule just made you feel like you were at home away from home. It felt like your marriage at the time, it felt like you were sixteen again talking to your mother about your dreams and being shut down. It felt bad, ugly.

You finish your breakfast and get dressed as your husband gets ready, his suit jacket the exact same shade of black as your dress, his button-up that cherry red that makes you ache with want. His slacks are pressed, his hair carefully styled as he appears behind you moments later, holding a flat iron to your head.

"No curls today, babe?" He leans against the doorway, and you smile shyly. "No, I think I want something sleek. The curls are not looking too good this morning." "Yeah?" He's not listening, running his eyes down your backside. "Hee. Stop." "I'm just looking, baby." He smiles, and you ignore the way his eyes raking across you make you feel warm. "Well, stop looking. I can't be late, not today." "So, tomorrow?" He asks, and you scoff as you pull the iron down the last strand of hair, running over the ends twice before tossing it over your shoulder. You roll your eyes, unplugging the tool as your husband's hands run over your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Swatting his hands away, you leave the iron to cool as you turn around. 

"Heeseung, I'm serious." You're nose to nose with your husband, who only smiles down at you. "One kiss." "In the car, after my lipstick, when you drop me off." You propose, and he shakes his head. "Right here, right now, before your lipstick and you let me go down on you." "You're insane!" You laugh, pushing him out of the way – but not before he lands a soft smack to the swell of your ass. "Stop! Let me get ready!" "Fine, fine! I'll make coffee." He scoffs, turning on his heel and going down the hallway. 

You shake your head to yourself, wandering back into your bedroom and slipping your jewelry on. Small gold hoops, the same necklace you wore every single day. Your wedding rings, one silver ring with the letter H on your middle left, and one on your right pinky with Heeseung's and your birthstones. A watch that was a gift from your father on your graduation day, the leather band slightly worn and molded to your wrist.

You hear a soft whistle from the doorway, and look up to see your husband biting his lip. "Are you sure you can't be a little late?" "Dude." You roll your eyes, watching Heeseung set down your silver tumbler on the dresser. He slides behind you as you check your earrings carefully, pressing his hips into your ass. “Did you call me dude yesterday? Could’ve sworn it was another word that started with—”

“Heeseung, you’re on thin ice.” You glare at him through the mirror, feeling him grind against you. “It’s almost like I can still hear you.” He hums against your shoulder, pressing a quick kiss before moving your hair out of the way, trailing gently up your neck and nipping at your ear.

“Please, daddy. Want you so bad.” He mocks you, watching your expression change in the mirror. You huff, your cheeks burning as you look away. “Don’t be shy, it was cute. You’re cute, baby.”

“Stop.” You murmur, before feeling his hand gently tilt your face towards his. He kisses you deeply, moving his hand lower slowly. Squeezing your neck softly, you whimper into his mouth before he pulls away, biting your lower lip and watching it spring back. “We’ll run this back later, yeah?”

You nod, earning a smile and a chaste kiss. “C’mon. It’s almost six-fifteen.”

He pushes off of you, his hand lingering on your hip before he leaves the bedroom. You sigh shakily, your fingers fumbling for your lipstick as you hear him jingle his car keys. You shove it into your dress pocket, grabbing your shoes and coffee cup off the dresser and exiting the bedroom.

You shove your shoes on as you reach the foyer, watching Heeseung pull your coat out of the hall closet. “I prepped your bag before I made breakfast, can you check it?”

Everything is there. You let him slip your coat on, pressing a kiss to your cheek and carefully fixing your hair. “What time are you off?”

“I’ll call you?” You say, and he nods. “Ten minutes before?”

“You got it.”

Neither of you say much else as you take a deep breath, opening your front door and stepping out together. You hold Heeseung’s sleeve as he locks the door, your other hand gripping the tumbler he prepared for you.

He turns, interlocking your fingers with his and bringing your knuckles to his lips. “You ready?”

You smile nervously, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Heeseung dropped you off a minute to seven, and even walked you to the doors of your clinic. He waited patiently as you applied your lipstick, puckering his lips cutely for his kiss goodbye. You pressed another to his cheek for good luck.

The day went smoothly. Your first two patients were two young men, both in their early twenties. One with dyed blond hair, the other with a dark brown perm. Both had tired eyes and chapped lips, bitten fingernails. The blond had a tattoo of a girl’s name on his forearm, the brunet two rings through his eyebrow.

Heeseung’s habit of jotting down small details has rubbed off on you.

Your last patient was set to arrive any minute, and you found yourself feeling uneasy. You kept changing the music you played, settling on Paradise by Sade. You smoothed the felt on the patient couch several times, even drawing a pattern in the fabric before hearing the soft knock on the door.

“Come in!”

A woman opens the door a crack, dark brown eyes peering in. Thickly lashed and lined with kohl, she presses her lips into a thin line before opening the door wider. You stand, smoothing your dress before offering your hand.

“I’m Dr. Lee. You must be—”

“I’m Jeon Chaeyoung. It’s on my file.” She mutters, bypassing your extended hand. She sits on the edge of the couch, and you brush it off. A lot of patients were standoffish at first — getting comfortable with someone you were going to share your problems with was always something difficult, you understood that.

“Yes, I know. I’m glad to meet you, I—”

“Can we just get into it? I don’t want all the formalities.” She cuts you off, and you try not to look discouraged as you settle into your chair. “Of course. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

She sighs, picking at her maroon polish. Something about her is off, something is oddly familiar, but you don’t know what. You notice her widow’s peak has been shaved off, and her teeth are a little too well shaped not to be veneers. 

“Well, I’m twenty-eight. I dropped out of university when I was nineteen, and I left my hometown at the same time. Haven’t spoken to anyone since, and I moved to this town last year with my husband.”

You nod slowly, tapping your pen against your notepad. You glance at her file, seeing that she had a few name changes in the last three years. Twice — Jeon Chaeyoung, before that she was Cha Chaeyoung.

Before that, Cha Soyoung.

You choke on your saliva, coughing harshly into your fist. She looks startled, her hands out as you reach for the pitcher of water on the coffee table. You pour shakily, coughing off the side before picking the glass up and taking a sip.

“S-Sorry, sorry. Had a little something. You moved here last year?”

Her eyes are suspicious as you pour another glass for her, sliding it across the table. She takes it tentatively, taking a small sip before holding it in her hands.

“Yeah. I…ran away, I guess. I felt so much pressure from everyone around me. My mother wanted me to be a bigshot lawyer, my father wanted me to take over his company on top of that. My best friend…” She trails off, and you hope she can’t sense how nervous you are. 

“He…ugh. He was so patient and understanding, and he tried so hard to understand me. He was there for me through every bad moment of my life — my mother pressing me to be successful, my father wanting me to take over his company. I couldn’t handle it.”

“So you left. You left everything behind and you started anew.” You say slowly, and she nods, her eyes teary. “I even changed my name. I knew he would look for me, I just disappeared without telling anyone. I think he gave up, but I still…”

She wipes at her nose, and you quickly offer tissues from the table. She takes a few, dabbing at her eyes before the kohl can run. She has the same look in her eyes as your first two patients — tired, scared. Even a bit…remorseful.

“I got surgeries to change the way I look, you know. I have a nose job, can you tell?” She turns to the side, and you can. You can tell, the way her nose no longer has the soft button look, but the straight bridge with pointed tip. But she doesn’t know you know that.

“Not that you’d know, sorry.” She laughs nervously, balling the tissues in her hands. You smile warmly at her. “I got my teeth done. And I even got half a syringe of filler in my lips.”

She puckers them, the clear gloss still shiny against the pink skin. You nod, “They look good, though. How do you feel about the changes? Do you feel more confident?”

She shakes her head, “No. I did it…to hide, I guess. I didn’t want my best friend to find me, I didn’t want anyone to find me. I went into hiding as long as I could, hoping my parents would just forget about me.”

“Mmh. I saw your file, and you said you’ve…changed your name. Why, exactly? Did you want to leave behind the person that was…Soyoung?” You tap the file, trying not to show the way her name makes your tongue taste sour, and she sighs. “They opened a Missing Persons case for me. It made everything a lot harder, you know? I just wanted to disappear and start a new life doing something menial. I know it sounds stupid—”

“Stupid?” You scoff, crossing your legs. “Nothing you feel is stupid, Chaeyoung. Everything and anything you’ve ever felt is valid. The need to run when things get too stressful, wanting to hide away from societal pressures. Everything, it’s valid.”

She lets out a shaky sob, covering her mouth as she breathes in. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry! You’re just a human being. No one can get upset at you for not knowing how to navigate everything, this is your first time on Earth.” You shrug, and she peers up at you through teary eyes. “Can you tell me about yourself? M-Maybe it’ll be easier to get comfortable.”

“Sure!” You smile, eager to give her an update on Heeseung, despite her not knowing. “I’ve been married for seven years. I met my husband when we were nineteen, and we started dating a little after that. I was a stay-at-home wife for the last few years, because my job…”

She stares at you intently, and you rub your neck. “I didn’t feel fulfilled. My mother, quite like yours, had a lot of pressure on me. I was her only daughter, and she wanted so much. She wanted me to marry for money, and she wanted me to pursue a law degree.”

You smile sadly, and she nods. “Did you marry for money?”

“Not at all. I made more than my husband did in my first year as a therapist.” You laugh, remembering how you and Heeseung cheered as the two of you finally had enough saved for a new mattress. It was a silly stepping stone but the two of you were ecstatic.

“What does your mom think of you now? Do you keep in contact with her?” She tilts her head at you, and you shrug. “I don’t care what she thinks, and she doesn’t speak to me. She works distantly with my husband, so he sees her more often than I do. She’s an attorney for the city we live in.”

Chaeyoung nods, slowly. She pulls her phone out, typing quickly and scrolling before turning her screen towards you. It’s a picture of her and Heeseung smiling as kids. They’re dressed as Team Rocket from Pokémon, posing with V-signs next to their winked eyes.

“This is him. He’s my best friend. I haven’t spoken to him since I left.” She sniffles, and you can’t hide the way your smile falters. You feel your stomach sink a bit, realizing that she would always know Heeseung far more than you ever would. She grew up with him, she matched Halloween costumes with him. She held his hand trick-or-treating, she dyed his hair for the first time in grade nine. 

She kissed him when they were seventeen, for the first time ever.

“Are you okay?” She asks, pulling her phone away. You nod quickly, “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just had some memories. I was super into Pokémon as a kid, but I moved around a lot and could never make friends over it.”

It’s not a lie. You collected the cards, played the video games, and watched the Indigo League.

“Do you and your husband have kids? My husband wants to have kids soon.” She mentions, and you shake your head. “No, not yet. We talked about it yesterday, actually.”

You had, in depth. While you were eating the shitty takeout from the diner down the road, he’d asked you. You admitted that you were open to having kids, but wanted to fix your marriage first. He agreed, but mentioned that getting off your birth control would take time to get used to. You nodded in response, saying you’d make an appointment with your doctor and the two of you could go from there.

“But us, first. Okay?” He’d said, holding his pinky out to you. You’d smiled and linked your fingers, “Us first.”

“This is my husband. His name is Jungkook.” She pulls up a photo of a particularly tattooed man, pressing his lips to her temple. He has a lip ring, and several rings through his ears. “He’s cute! Do you feel loved? Fulfilled?”

“Funnily enough, I do. I don’t feel any of the stress or pressure to be…perfect. He…gets me. He engages me, he makes me laugh. We dance together a lot, he sings me to sleep.” She nods, smiling at the photo. “Can I see your husband? Or is that too far?”

You try not to show your hesitation, but the words tumble out before you can stop them.

"Maybe next time, yeah?" She nods quickly, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable–" "Not at all! My husband is just particular, you know. His job stops him from really being a prolific person." You smile, shaking your head as you tap your notepad. It's true, you and Heeseung hardly posted things about yourselves or your relationship on social media. Your friends were all very private due to the nature of their jobs, and it'd do you well to follow that.

The rest of the session goes on without many more slip-ups. She focuses on telling you about her relationship with her husband, how he proposed. Their intimate elopement in his hometown, with just his friends and their girlfriends. You can't count how many times you heard her mention a couple named Jimin and Jeongyeon.

You can't focus on anything but the color of her eyes. How deep they are, how much of her story they hold. You're certain Heeseung would be able to figure her out in a split second, just by looking into them.

"You're very good at this, you know." She says as she tugs her jacket on, and you don't remember her ever taking it off. The hour she booked is almost up, and she looks a lot lighter than when she came in. You can feel the weight of her confessions, the weight of knowing she was alive and well after years of searching for her on your own shoulders.

You don't know if, or when, you should, or could – tell your husband.

"Good at what?" You tilt your head, and she gives you a quizzical look. "At creating a nice environment to share my struggles. I know I mostly talked about my husband, but…it felt nice. To tell someone about him and not have them tell me they already know that about him." You smile inwardly, knowing exactly what she means. "Yeah. My husband…his best friends are also mine. Can't really talk about all his weird little habits without them knowing exactly what I'm talking about." "Oh? You don't have friends of your own?" She tilts her head, and you laugh. "I mean, yeah. But I tend to spend most of my time with my husband. It's like…a really good amusement park. I wanna go on all the rides with him, you know?" She smiles, but you see a slight flash of judgment in her eyes. Feeling your cheeks burn, you clear your throat, closing her file and putting it on the table. "Should I expect to see you here next week, Chaeyoung?" "I'd like that, Dr. Lee. My husband said he'd wait for me, so I'm going to go ahead and relieve him." She nods, before standing. You do as well, walking her to the entrance. She turns on the steps, "Thank you for listening to me." "Any time, Chaeyoung." You bid her a goodbye, watching as she walks out of the clinic with her hands in her pockets to a black station wagon. Leaning on your doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest, you see her husband get out, seeing the way he towers over her. He smiles down at her, tucking her hair behind her ear before pressing a kiss to her forehead. You can make out his lips asking How was it? 

And her own saying I'm coming back next week. I really like this one, honey.

You feel your chest ache as he opens her door, pressing another kiss to her cheek as she pulls her seatbelt on. He shuts the door, and circles back to the driver's side. He looks up, catching your eye. He tilts his head, before smiling and opening his door. He gives you a quick wave, and you put your fingers up as he reverses out of his parking spot.

It looked so easy for them.

She looked so easy to love, he looked so eager to love her. Did people look at you and Heeseung that way, too? Did they think that about you? Sighing, you turn into your office, stretching your arms over your head. You moved around, tidying up as the music you played switched to something that reminded you more of your husband – specifically, No Song Without You by HONNE.

He'd played this song almost every day when the two of you began dating. You remember this song playing in the restaurant you had your third date at. You remember this song playing in the car when he picked you up for your twentieth birthday. You remember this song playing when he asked you to be his girlfriend, and ending just moments before he kissed you for the first time. You remember this song playing when he took you out to the flower field he proposed in. You remember his teary eyes as he knelt down before you, one of the biggest displays of emotion you'd ever seen in him. Most of all, you remember him saying there is no him without you.

You don't realize you've been standing in the same spot for the last two minutes until you hear your phone ring on the desk. You rush to it, picking up the call before even looking at the caller ID.

"This is Dr. Lee." You say, fumbling with Chaeyoung's file and the cabinet. You open it before hearing your husband snort on the other end. "Hello, Dr. Lee. This is Lieutenant Lee, I'm calling on behalf of your taxi service." "Yah! You're not my taxi." You scoff, shoving the file into the J section. He laughs, "I'm outside, baby. You didn't call, so I got worried. I picked up something light, are you almost done?" "Shit, I'm sorry. D'you want to come inside? I still have things to wrap up." You screw your eyes shut, your fingers rubbing at your temples. "Yeah, sure. I'll be right there."

It doesn't take long for your husband to appear at your door, holding his badge in his hand as you type on your computer. You give him a quizzical look, before turning back to the screen. "Did the janitor give you a hard time?"

"You could say that." He shakes head, setting his keys and phone down on your coffee table. He's holding the bag of food in his hand, and you gesture to the room. "It's nice, isn't it?" He looks around, putting the bag on your desk before opening it. "It's a lot bigger than your old office. I like the green…is that Take Me by Miso?" His ears perk at the new song playing through the speakers, and you sigh, nodding your head as you slump in your chair. He nods along to the song before rounding the desk, and pressing a kiss to your hairline. "You don't look very happy, honey. Did something happen?" His hands find your shoulders as he stands behind you, and you move your mouse all over the screen. "Nothing, I'm just rebooking a patient. She…something about her. I don't know." You know your conscience won't let you hide this from Heeseung very long. Granted, you're protected by the law if you do tell him, and it's the right thing to do.

Something in your heart doesn't feel right.

"Jeon Chaeyoung." He reads, and you nod. "Jeon Chaeyoung." "What's her deal?" He asks, making you pout up at him. "If I tell you, I'm violating our patient-provider contract." He gives you a confused look, before leaning down, brushing a kiss to your cheek. "I'm sensing a but, here." You sigh, exiting the schedule and turning the monitor off. "Let me make a scenario for you, yeah?" You stand, kicking your heels off as you walk onto the carpet under the coffee table. He nods slowly, before moving to the patient couch, taking a seat as you pace.

"Let's say, you're looking at someone in a line-up, yes?" You turn to him, and he nods. "Okay. What am I looking for?" "Something familiar. You know the perpetrator and you've known them for ages. I mean, damn near your entire life." 

Heeseung's eyes scan your face, before humming. He leans back, resting his elbows against the back of the couch. "We have a saying about eyes, I guess. That they never lie, you know. Eyes are the windows to the soul and what not." 

"So if I show you a picture of me and a bunch of other people, and cover everything but our eyes, you'd know which one I am?" You feel like you're starting to sound a bit like a maniac, but your husband nods. "Of course I would. I love your eyes. I look at them all the time."

You nod quickly, before breathing out shakily. "When you were nine, what did you dress up as for Halloween?" "What?" He scoffs out a laugh, "What does that have anything to do with what we were just talking about?"

You kneel in front of him, and he sits up quickly, taking in your serious expression. "Babe, what is going on?" "Did you match with Soyoung?" You murmur, picking at his slacks. "Were you Jesse from Team Rocket?"

Heeseung's brow furrows as he takes your hands, the clink of your rings grabbing your attention. "Y/N?" "It's her. She changed her name and she changed her face but it's her, Hee. I know it is, I can tell by her eyes and she showed me the two of you dressed up for Halloween as kids. That picture your mom has framed in her office." You squeeze your eyes shut, sinking back from him. His fingers squeeze yours gently before he scoffs. "Y/N…Honey, I really, really need you to think about what you're telling me right now." "I am, Heeseung! This is just as important to me, you know that! Countless sleepless nights, thousands of posters put up every single weekend just for her to waltz into my office today and tell me about her life!" You rip your hands from his, standing and walking to the file cabinet. You fish her file out, opening it and thrusting it into his hands.

He takes it reluctantly, his eyes scanning the file with a frown on his lips. 

Emergency Contact: Jeon Jungkook –  Cell: 010-1997-090 Work: 010-2013-0613 Relationship to Patient: Spouse

"She's married." He mumbles, flipping to the next page to her insurance information. He sees her name changes, before and after her marriage. His tongue pokes his cheek gently as you sit next to him, your ankles crossed as you sigh.

"This is rather anticlimactic." You mumble, leaning your head against his shoulder. He hums in response, thumbing the print of her electronic signature. "She never used to write her C's like this." He flicks the file, before closing it. "What happens now?" Your voice is no higher than a whisper, and you feel him sigh before leaning his head on yours. "Nothing. Legally, she doesn't have to report her reappearance. She's an adult." You look up at your husband, who has a surprisingly underwhelmed look on his face. He's nibbling on his lip as he gently tosses the file onto the coffee table. You rest your chin on his shoulder, scanning his face before he looks down at you.

"You seem tired." You say softly, and he closes his eyes. "I am. I'm so tired, honey." "You don't feel any sort of way about this? I can refer her to another clinic. I can–" "I just want to go home, Y/N." He shakes his head, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You allow it, moving to sit in his lap and feeling his hands drop to your waist. "I don't have…I can't…" You look down at him, seeing the way he angrily blinks back tears as he tries to find the words he needs. Your hands gently cup his cheeks as he sighs frustratedly, burying his face in your chest. You can feel your stomach flip as he tries to breathe deeply, his shoulders tight as you wrap your arms around them. He sniffles, resting his forehead on your clavicle, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Is it wrong to be angry at her?" He mumbles shakily, and you quickly shake your head. "No. She left, and she told me it was willingly. She came back, just a thirty-minute drive from home and she didn't tell you. You're allowed to be upset." "Then why do I feel shitty about it?" His voice trembles as he looks up at you, teary eyes full of resentment and bitterness, but behind it all is a 19-year-old boy who lost his best friend from night to the morning. You coo softly, your thumb moving to swipe under his eye as he pouts.

"Because you wanted things to be different. Finding out she's okay through me…probably wasn't the way you imagined it'd happen. Maybe you had an idea of her showing up to the precinct, or to your parents' house looking for you. Maybe you saw that she's married to someone else and it hurts you, maybe you have some underlying feelings." You shrug, not noticing the way your husband's eyes narrow at your words.

"Y/N, are you hearing yourself right now?" He scoffs, gently pushing you away from him. His hands rest on your thighs, nibbling on the corner of his lip as you give him a confused look. "What?" "Did you just seriously try and equate my feelings about this entire situation to me having some sort of weird fantasy about being with her?"

You blink twice, only for Heeseung to huff out a humorless laugh before gently removing you off his lap. He stands, grabbing his keys and wallet off the table before tapping the file. "Let's go home." "Hee–" "Let's go." He sighs, fingers grabbing the bag of dinner that you're sure had gone cold by now. He waits by the door as you gather your things, holding your coat in his hand as you slide your heels back on. "Heeseung–" "Turn around. It's cold outside." His voice isn't harsh or mean, but you can tell he doesn't want to speak unless it's absolutely necessary. You reluctantly let him slide your coat on for you, feeling his lips pressed to your temple quickly. He opens the office door, carefully pushing you out first and turning the lights off behind him.

"Can I drive?" You hold your hand out for the keys, and he sighs before dropping them in your hand. You walk quickly towards the exit, not bothering to bid the janitor a good night as you nearly threw the door open. You could feel your stomach turn as you reached the car, Heeseung still trailing behind you when his voice cut through the air.

"Walking that quickly won't get you away from this conversation, babe." You tongue your cheek, waiting for your husband to appear next to you in front of the SUV you shared. His hand squeezed your hip gently, before pulling you close. "What are you running from, hm?" The conversation where you tell me that our marriage is over and you want out because your best friend is back in the picture, you think. You shrug, shaking your head as he pulls open the driver's side door. He sighs as you skirt around him, pulling yourself into the seat without his help. He doesn't let you close the door, wedging himself in to buckle in your seatbelt for you.

"You say some really fucked up shit sometimes, you know." He murmurs, and you feel your cheeks hot as you reach around him to stick the keys in the ignition. His hand on your cheek stops you, forcing you to look at him. "I thought we said we'd work on this. On us." "I don't want to do this here." You reply shortly, not recognizing your own tone of voice as your husband's eyes widen before he tongues his cheek. "Fine." The drive is silent, the radio turned off by your fingers the moment you managed to get the car started. Heeseung sits in the passenger side, staring out the window with a tick in his jaw you'd only ever really seen a few times, but you remember most during your first fight. It'd been two days before your first anniversary, and it'd been over the dumbest thing ever – his phone dying and you freaking out when he showed up late to your early celebration. He'd apologized profusely but you didn't want to talk about it then, just like you don't want to talk now.

Heeseung is out of the car before you even manage to park fully, careful not to slam the door as he rounds the car, opening your door and taking your bag. You reluctantly let him help you down, and he takes the keys to open the door without a word. Your home is still warm and inviting, but something about the cold demeanors floating around the two of you makes it feel like you're not even there.

"Are you hungry?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head. "No." "You had lunch at noon, why are you lying?" He scoffed, pulling his jacket off as you tongued your cheek, "I'm not. You're just assuming things." "What is the problem, Y/N? Suddenly Soyoung…Chaeyoung reappears and you want to act like this? Did we not just have several lengthy conversations about fixing our relationship?" He grabs your elbow gently as you move to walk away, and you can't help but look at him with a frown on your face. "That was then, and this is now." "Why are you being like this? Babe." Heeseung pulls you toward him, and you huff in frustration as you try to weasel from his gasp. "You're acting like I'm some insecure housewife who needs you to coddle her. I'm not insecure, and even if I was, there's nothing you can do about it. Who cares? Why do you even care?" Heeseung gapes at you, before his hands circle your wrists so you can't move away from him. "Hello? Because I love you? Do I need another reason to want to understand why the woman I've been with for almost a decade is suddenly acting like she hates me?" 

"Me? Hate you? Be fucking serious." You scoff, and Heeseung's eyes narrow. "Then tell me what the hell is going on in your mind, because I'm not a mind reader. I cannot fix a problem if you don't tell me what it is." "Oh, but if I were Soyoung–" You start, but stop the moment his eyes meet yours. They're full of hurt and a hint of anger, a singular tear spilling from them before he drops your wrists with a click of his tongue. "Don't."

His voice is soft, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as he turns away from you, before shrugging his suit jacket off. He sighs shakily, and you feel your throat burn as you step out of your heels, placing them quietly on the shoe rack by the door. You purse your lips, taking a deep breath before turning on your heel, moving towards your bedroom before the tears spill from your eyes.

You didn't know what to do to stop the feeling of despair from clawing at you. And you felt stupid, thinking that you needed to even allow that feeling into your chest. You and Heeseung had spoken in depth on Sunday about your relationship – when you weren't pinned under him or vice versa. You talked about having kids, you talked about your parents, you talked about each other. He admitted to you that Dr. Bahng had told him to take some time off for the two of you before the year ended, and that he'd talk to his Captain about submitting the paperwork for a vacation sometime this week.

He admitted that he wholly believes marrying you was one of the best decisions he's ever made, and profusely apologized for his inability to cherish you the way you deserved. He held you closely as his promises to do better rained over you, and you promised the same.

He admitted to feeling his heart racing in his chest the day he met you, but was too consumed with guilt about Chaeyoung to ever bring it up, and his crush on you started developing soon after. He admitted that you made him overthink every step he took, every word he said – so much so that he figured it was just better to push you away than tell you about his feelings. The two of you recounted how Sunghoon made the two of you meet him at the campus cafe with the premise that he needed help on an assignment – only to ditch you with a frown, and figure your shit out falling from his lips as he left with Jake.

You brought up how he'd gaped at Sunghoon, and the way you awkwardly picked at your nails before confessing that you had a little crush on him. The way you rambled about knowing that his circumstances were really shitty, that you completely understood if he didn't feel the same, and that you were sorry Sunghoon put the two of you in this situation. Heeseung had only smiled as he nodded along to your words, before abruptly interrupting you to ask if you were free that following Friday. You had been, and he picked you up at seven for a date – an arcade, where the two of you jokingly did a Love Test-O-Meter and got the highest level. The two of you had scrunched your noses, but you both had deep blushes across your cheeks as the other patrons woo'd you. After, you went back to his dorm and ordered takeout, before promptly getting intoxicated on a bottle of gin stolen from Jay and watched horror films for hours before you passed out on his bed holding hands.

The rest? History.

You're struggling to pull your dress zipper down when Heeseung enters the room, his fingers gently tugging the zipper down your back without a word. You hear the gentle jazz music playing in your living room as he shuffles towards the closet, unbuttoning his shirt before hanging it back up. His hand reaches for one of the towels on the shelves, before taking another out and placing it on the bed.

A silent invitation to join him in the shower, if you so felt like it.

You hesitated, watching the way he gathered his pajamas and tucks them under his arm, the urge to follow after him far too strong as you stepped out of your dress, letting it pool on the floor. You kicked it away with a huff, before stripping entirely and grabbing the towel and your robe off the back of your bedroom door. You linger at the bathroom door, hearing the water start to pour and the sound of the shower curtain being pulled open. You walk in silently, setting your things down on the counter as Heeseung undid his belt, hanging it up on the hook by the door. You make a mental note to take it out when you leave, he'll forget it and not wear it for weeks until he sees it again. He tilts his head towards the shower as he peels off his undershirt, signaling for you to get in while he gets undressed.

The water is hot against your skin, and you close your eyes with an inward sigh. He steps in moments after, before tilting your head back just slightly so the water can cascade through your hair. Your hands instinctively move to touch him, but you retract back to your sides. He gently takes them, wrapping them around his waist like you usually do.

He doesn't say anything as he washes your hair gently, your eyes closed so as to not take in the image of your husband's slightly swollen eyes. His fingers card through your hair smoothly, before you feel his lips on your forehead. 

"I love you. Don't say it back. Don't say anything." You don't, but you're sure he sees the tear that slips from your eye as you nod silently. It comes so easily to him now. So, so easily to let you know how he feels about you. It makes you weak in the knees.

The rest of your shower is like that, his lips brushing chaste kisses all over your face as he repeats himself over and over, I love you, I love you, I love you. Your tears are hot as they continue to spill, and you finally slip out of the shower when he asks you to take the extra pillows off the bed – his final kiss to your lips after carefully washing your face for you.

You do as he asks, taking your decorative pillows and piling them in the closet like you usually do. You silently get dressed for bed, not bothering with your skincare – you'll just cry it off. Your hair is still damp when you lie down in one of your husband's old shirts and a pair of Spiderman briefs you stole from him years ago. He quietly turns all the lights off but leaves the music playing in the living room, before walking into the bedroom as he pulls his shirt over his head.

Your vision is blurry as you look up at him, his face illuminated by the evening moonlight. He sighs as he sits on your side of the bed, his hand sliding under the duvet to rest on your thigh. "Come dance with me." You blink a few times, staring at him before closing your eyes, shoving the duvet to the side and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. He stands, taking your hand in his and making you follow him to the living room.

You hear the opening notes of Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers – yet another song from your wedding – as Heeseung pulls you into him, planting a soft kiss to your hairline as his hands find home on your lower back. You exhale into his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken as you slide your hands under his shirt, resting them high on his back. 

"I love you, I'm sorry." You mumble as he sways the two of you gently, and he hums in response.

"I need you to know that I've never had feelings for Chaeyoung." He says clearly, and you close your eyes. "I've never had feelings for her, in any way that wasn't platonic. There are plenty of reasons she and I never got together after she kissed me when we were teenagers. Not that they matter, because all that matters is that I didn't feel the same, I never have and I never will." You don't respond, feeling your eyes sting with tears.

"It's only ever been you for me. I've never once thought back to when we started dating and thought that I'd would’ve been better off with anyone else. I've never wanted anyone that isn't you, and I think that is equally as beautiful as it is terrifying. In lieu of you, who? I'd have no first love without you, you’re the only love I want." "I'm sorry." You whisper as your tears soak into his shirt, and he pinches your hip lightly. 

"I'd genuinely be nothing without you. You are the most patient, loving person I've ever met. No one makes me want to be a better man like you do. I feel sick every time I have to get out of bed and go to work, but I remind myself that you only deserve the best. This house, our things, what I hope I can provide for our future kids…it can only be the best. So, I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry for giving so much importance to the future, which isn't a bad thing in itself. But, I've ignored my present. You're a gift from life, I've ignored you and it pains me to know I've caused you so much distress. So much so that you resort to feeling like this, like I'd ever leave the love of my life, the love for my life, for someone else."

His hands find your face, cooing at the pout on your lips as he gently wipes your tears. "I meant everything I said this weekend, too. I could never ask for a better woman, not when I have you." You only let out a sob in response, your husband cuddling you into his chest as he turns the music off when the song changes. He rubs your back as he moves the two of you back to the bedroom. He only separates from you to slide under the covers, but pulls you flush to his chest and envelopes you tightly in his arms.

"I love you so, so endlessly. Please don't ever doubt that again." He sighs shakily, pressing his lips to your temple as you bury your face in his neck. "I love you, Hee."

Friday, 3:40pm.

It'd been three weeks since you told Heeseung about Chaeyoung's return, and she'd become a regular patient at your clinic. She told you more about her husband, her friends, and how she missed Heeseung. She asked you about your life, and you did everything to avoid mentioning names, even going as far as avoiding certain questions. You kept Heeseung updated with everything, and the more you told him…

…The more disinterested he became. It was odd to you, but you said nothing as he changed the subject, as he rolled his eyes, as he kissed you in the middle of your sentences. 

Heeseung also made it a point to drop you off and pick you up from work every day, insisting he enjoyed it. He made your breakfast and picked your clothes, and it was like every morning was a challenge to see if he could convince you to take a trip to the bedroom in your work clothes. He'd succeeded twice, and you were late to work both times. He hadn't been successful since, earning soft swats of your hand and gentle shoves.

However, this morning – you did it all on your own. Heeseung had recently taken on a new case and it was cutting into his sleep. He came home not even an hour before you woke up, several apologetic calls and texts throughout the night before you fell asleep at midnight without him.

You tucked him in, planting kisses across his face as you shrugged your coat on. He didn't stir, and you packed his breakfast and lunch and left it on the table. You took the long way, playing the same soft jazz station he did every morning.

One of your patients had called to reschedule, so you'd have an early afternoon home. You got a text from Heeseung moments after arriving at the clinic, complaining about why you didn't wake him up to take you – only for him to call you at noon and say he'd barely gotten up for work. You'd laughed and teased him about thinking he'd be able to take you to work when he clearly needed the rest, only to hear Sunghoon tell your lovebird of a husband to get off the phone and focus.

It'd been nearly four hours since then, and you were about to wrap up with Chaeyoung.

"I found him on social media, you know. His mom posted a congratulatory post, he works in the same town. He's a lieutenant at the Seventh Precinct." She picked at her nails, a frown on her lips as you try not to show your shock at her words. "Who, your best friend?" "Yes. He's married now, too. I couldn't find anything about her, though. His parents didn't post anything about the wedding but a backshot of him and the bride." She sighs, and you think back. You'd both asked his parents to keep it private, and they both chose that photo to post across their social media to boast to their friends. You'd appreciated it so deeply that you bought them a rice cooker for Christmas that year.

"Do you plan on going to see him at some point?" You ask smoothly, refilling her glass of water as she shrugs. "I planned on going today, actually. I'm just…nervous. I had a friend drop me off today, and I'd be going alone. I feel like I'd need a support system." "I can go with you, if you'd like. I'm headed that way anyway." The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and her eyes widened with surprise before she smiled. "You'd do that?" "Of course. This is a big step for you, you know? I'd just have to make some calls, I know that precinct happens to be rather finicky with visitors." You shrug, feeling the pit in your stomach grow deeper as you wonder how you're going to tell Heeseung. She nods excitedly, and you excuse yourself, walking down the hall so nothing can be heard through the door.

The line rings three times before Heeseung picks up.

"Hey, baby. What's up?" "You can't be mad at me. Promise you won't get mad." You rush out, and he laughs. "I won't be mad. At least, I don't think I'll be. Are you okay?" "She wants to meet you. She said she's going over there today, and my stupid ass offered to drive her over because I'm going home early, anyway." You're wincing as the line goes silent, before your husband sighs. "Oh, babygirl." You can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, the particular pet name only really slipping when he's stressed. "I'm sorry, honey." "No, no. It's fine, just..let me get some stuff settled, I'll let Minseo know to let you through without issues." He trails off, before another sigh is heard. "Does she know we're married?" "She found that back shot from our wedding. She doesn't know it's me." You sigh shakily, and your husband only echoes it back. "Alright, I'll let the guys know. Will you be in the room? I don't think I can do this alone." "Yes, of course. I won't be there as your wife, though, if that's…fine. Just think of it as that one time we roleplayed."

Your husband snorts, "Babe, that was the most awkward thing ever." "Because you can't hold character! But don't worry, we'll spin that one back someday." You hum affirmatively, earning a soft laugh. "I love you, baby. I'll see you in what, thirty?" "I'd run red lights for you if it wasn't illegal and dangerous." You shrug, despite him not being able to see you. He's probably rolling his eyes, a click of his tongue coming through the phone. "Be good, honey. I'll see you. Love you." "I will. Love you." You shoot a few texts off to the other detectives as the line hangs up, before sliding back into your office and seeing Chaeyoung sprawled across the couch with her arm over her eyes. "You alright in here?" Your soft chuckle startles her, and she straightens quickly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Sorry, I'm nervous." "Not to worry. They know me well, so don't be startled if anyone says anything." You smile as you grab your coat, before floating over to your computer and clicking around. "Ready to go? We can even stop and get a little drink for the drive." "You're such a girl, I love it." She giggles, and you feel your stomach sink as you shake your head with fake amusement. You feel awful lying to her – she'd been so open and honest, warming up to you incredibly fast. She eagerly bounces alongside you as you walk to your car after gathering your belongings and locking your office, slipping into your passenger seat as you quickly buckle yourself in.

The ride is full of nervous chatter from her and you drop your guard a bit, opting to talk to her about Heeseung through memories. You tell her about your first date, and she's amused, telling you about her first date with her husband – talking about how the two of them wound up getting lost in Busan because he'd forgotten his way around a smaller part of town. You only smiled throughout.

You arrived at the precinct with an iced coffee from a shop a block away, Chaeyoung holding an Americano as she nervously chewed her lip. You spoke to Minseo softly, your eyes pointed as she nodded – it seemed Heeseung had vetted everyone before your arrival. "Go ahead, Dr. Lee. Lieutenant Lee should be in his office, his schedule is clear for the afternoon." "Thank you, Minseo. Take a break soon, okay?" You give her a warm smile and this time, she returns it, before printing your visitor stickers and giving one to Chaeyoung. Her fingers tremble as she sticks it on her denim jacket, and you see Sunghoon staring intently in your direction before you give him a dirty look.

"Dr. Lee! Good to see you, it's been a while." He wanders over, draping his arm over your shoulders as you try not to groan in annoyance. "Detective Park, always a pleasure." "Sunghoon?" You hear Chaeyoung whisper, and he glances over at her with a mock look of surprise. "Yes? Do I know you?" She opens her mouth, but you quickly shake your head, reaching for her hand. "Later. I promise you'll have time."

"Sorry." She mumbles, but she looks over her shoulder at Sunghoon for a bit as you walk through the precinct. You note the way her eyes widen at the sight of Jake and Jay, their serious faces contorting to ones of confusion at her longing glances. They all pretend like their hearts aren't racing out of their chests as you knock on Heeseung's door, hearing an affirmative sound to come in.

"Lieutenant Lee." You poke your head in, squeezing Chaeyoung's hand in yours as your husband looks up. You fight the urge to say he looks handsome in his white button down and blue suit jacket, but he stands before you can say anything else.

"Dr. Lee, always a pleasure to see you. How can I help you?" He opens the door further, and you can almost hear the way he thanks his years of training for the stoicism on his face as he sees Chaeyoung. You pull her into the office as he steps out of the way, her eyes wide as you sit her down and quickly close the blinds, sticking your tongue out at Sunghoon for good measure.

You almost forget Heeseung has a few photos of you on his desk, and you look over your shoulder to see them all facing the wall behind his chair. You nearly sigh in relief, but clear your throat instead as you sit next to Chaeyoung. Heeseung smiles softly, checking his watch.

"How can I help you, ladies? Oh, I'm Lieutenant Lee Heeseung. At your service." He extends his hand, noting the way hers trembles as she takes it. He gives it a firm shake, before glancing at her again. "You look…kind of familiar. Have we met before?" "I can't." She whispers, her hand gripping onto the sleeve of your coat as you nod, before clearing your throat. "It's okay. You want me to talk?" She nods without a word, and you give Heeseung a pleading look. "So, we have a bit of a…predicament." "Right, as one would assume." He nods slowly, and you note the way he nervously chews his lip before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. "Are you in danger, or some sort of trouble?" He clicks a pen from his pocket, opening a drawer from the side table to take out a notepad.

"More like we have some answers to a case that went cold a few years back." You hear him hum, the pen not touching the paper as he looks up. "Alright, should I pull up some records?" "If you'd like, but it was a Missing Persons case you were involved with. Do you remember when we talked about it when we first met? The Cha Soyoung case?" "Ah…right. Right." He clears his throat, and you can see the tears beginning to well in his eyes as he blinks them back. "That case has long been dry, with lots of dead ends. Everyone in the precinct is familiar with it. Last update was, what, three years ago? Some sightings a few miles away." "Lieutenant, this is Jeon Chaeyoung." You introduce her properly, her eyes peering at him over your shoulder. He blinks, nodding slowly. "Formerly known as Cha Soyoung." He tilts his head at your words, as if he didn't already know. He stares blatantly, and you make her scoot up a bit so he can get a better look at her face. His eyes scan her repeatedly, before he stands up and moves to his desk, opening a drawer and taking out one of the many missing posters you used to put up every week. He looks at it for a moment, and sighs shakily. "You know, I appreciate you coming by–" "Hee, it's me." She blurts, a few tears rolling down her face as you see a pained look on your husband's face. He nibbles on his lip, his eyes full of stress as he looks at you. She stands up, and Heeseung tongues his cheek as he shakes his head. "Soyoung had a widow's peak, and a birthmark on her neck." "Heeseung, please. I know you're upset, and I…I'm sorry. I've missed you..." She trails off, and you note the way he's near tears, looking away from her, the paper crumpling in his hand as he clears his throat. "Dr. Lee, can I see you outside?"

Chaeyoung gives you a look of despair, and you just pat her shoulder with an apologetic look as you watch Heeseung storm out. "I'll talk to him, don't worry." She opens her mouth to speak, but she just sighs. Nodding, she takes a seat, and you tighten your coat around you as you follow your husband out. He's in the break room a few feet away, and he nearly shuts the door with a slam as you slip inside. His arm reaches for you, pulling him into you roughly and squeezing you so hard you can't breathe for a moment. "I can't do this. I'm not strong enough, Y/N." His voice is unsteady, but you snake your arms around his waist with a hum. "You know, I was worried. I was beginning to think you were going to let this all just…go. You are strong enough, and you can do this.. I know this is scary, it's so overwhelming. I know you, though. You're Lee Heeseung, you don't give up on anything. It's been almost a decade and you've worked so hard to get here. Don't you want to see the fruit of your hard work?" Your voice is soft but stern, and your husband only whimpers pitifully into your shoulder. You coo, running your hand down the nape of his neck as you sway the two of you gently. "I love you, baby. I believe you can get through this. You deserve a happy ending to it all. So many years of stress won't be good for your hairline." He actually snorts at your joke, but the tears continue nonetheless as he moves away, pouting as he sits in one of the chairs. You wipe your hands on his cheeks gently, offering him a tissue from your pocket as you squat in front of him. "It's gonna be okay. I promise." "I don't want to make amends. I don't think I can forgive her for this." He sniffles, and you nod in understanding. "That's okay, too. You don't need to be her friend again, even if that's what she wants. You owe her nothing, and vice versa." "I love you." He whines, covering his face with his hands as you laugh softly. "I know, I love you too, Hee."

"No, seriously, I'd ask you to marry me again if we weren't already married." He grabs your hands quickly, and you nearly lose your balance as he jerks you forward, enveloping you in a crushing embrace. "Submit your vacation paperwork and we can renew our vows instead." "I love you so much!" He cries into your coat. You can't help but laugh out loud, a bit of shock running through you as you take in his very big emotional outburst. "I know, I know! Now please, get it together. We've got to get back, and you need to talk to her. The poor girl is vibrating out of her skin."

"Kiss me." He pouts, looking up at you as you stand. You roll your eyes. "After. Promise." "I need it for encouragement. Be the wind beneath my wings, babe." He begs, making you sigh. "One kiss, and keep your tongue in your mouth." "Two kisses to make up for the lack of tongue." He counters, and you smack his arm before pressing your lips to his. His hands instinctively hold your waist, your own moving to hold his cheeks gently. It's slow and sweet, and you pull away as his teeth nip at your lower lip.

“Stop that." You brush two more chaste kisses on his lips, a pout appearing as you squeeze his hand. "Come on, we have to." "I love you." He repeats for the umpteenth time, and you know he's finding comfort in knowing that you both feel the same and are there for moral support. "I love you, Hee. Now, let's go." The other detectives pretend they don't notice the way you hold his hand tightly as you both exit the break room, Heeseung ducking his head to hide his teary eyes as you open the door to his office. You pop your head in, seeing a rather disheveled Chaeyoung on the couch.

"How're we feeling?" You call gently, squeezing Heeseung's hand behind you before you let go. She gives you a thumbs down as she wipes her eyes, and Heeseung clears his throat behind you as he carefully slips past. She shifts as he does so, and you shut the door behind you. He sits across from her carefully, her eyes shimmering with tears as she peers up at you.

Heeseung does the same, before glancing at your wedding rings. They're snug on your finger, and you carefully thumb at them as you gingerly take a seat on the couch next to Chaeyoung. You give him a pointed look, and he sighs, running his hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, Hee." She whispers, and he nods. "I'm sure." "I really am. You would've talked me out of it, I know you."

Heeseung's hands flex on his knees, "You could've talked to me, at least. You could've said literally anything. You just up and left and expected no one would care." "You don't get it, Hee. I felt so much pressure from everyone around me, I was so tired of pretending like I wanted any of that for myself. I didn't want to take over the company, you knew that." She tries to reason, but you can tell he's fighting himself from saying anything out of line as he takes a deep breath.

"It's always what I knew and what you knew, but you clearly forgot the fact that you were my best friend. Since we were kids, and the most painful part of this all is confirming that you didn't trust me that entire time. There's no coming back from this." 

She's silent as he picks at his nails, before she speaks softly. "Don't you at least want to know how I'm doing?" He scoffs quietly, folding his hands in his lap. "Sure. Tell me everything you've built for yourself while I've spent a decade agonizing about whether or not you're alive." His tone is harsh and you find yourself giving him a hard look, your jaw tight as she looks down. He doesn't apologize, and you find yourself speaking softly.

"A lot of big feelings here, hm? There's a lot of pain to get through, so…let's not take anything to heart right now." You nod, and Chaeyoung nods next to you as she clears her throat. Heeseung doesn't acknowledge it, opting to bounce his leg.

"I got married. I know you did too, right? During college?" She nods, and he clicks his tongue. 

"Heeseung, be nice." You say his name out of habit, his eyes snapping to you as you wince at your mistake. "Didn't know we were on a first-name basis, Dr. Lee." "You know what I mean." You roll your eyes, and Heeseung sighs. "Yeah, I got married in college right after I turned twenty-one. Seven years ago."

"You're awfully young to be a Lieutenant." She says softly, and he struggles not to roll his eyes. "Doesn't take much to get promoted when you're constantly mulling over cases and neglecting other things for someone who didn't want to be found. You could've called, you know."

"Could I have? Because it seems like you hate me for doing what's best for me." Her eyes are narrowed now, and he scoffs. "I think I'm allowed to hate you for all its fucking worth at this point. You abandoned me nine years ago, you just up and left without a word! Do you know how many birthdays I had to spend answering questions about you instead of celebrating with my loved ones? You know how many date nights I shoved aside with my wife because I was here, hoping I'd get a crumb of knowing that you're at least alive? Do you understand how much of my life has gone into this?!" Heeseung is starting to lose his patience, but it seems Chaeyoung had been ready to blow her top for years.

"What about me, Heeseung?! You think I liked always being on the fucking sidelines, waiting for you to notice me? I had to fucking disappear for you to care about me? For you to look my way even once, I had to uproot my entire life? Is that what it had to fucking come to?!" 

Your lips part at her words, Heeseung's eyes widening before they narrow. "Are you serious? That's what you want to attribute this to? I didn't reciprocate your feelings so now I'm the bad guy? You fucking left, instead of communicating with anyone. You made that decision, no one forced you to take that road." "I did what I had to, and the fact that you never wanted to be with me despite us literally being the perfect love story was just the cherry on top. It was my catalyst and I hope you know that I resent you for making me feel so undesirable." She huffs, and you clear your throat as Heeseung glowers. 

"I think…we've lost our way a bit. This was more about reconnecting, I assumed it'd be a bit more peaceful. The blame game gets us nowhere." You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Chaeyoung takes a deep breath, struggling not to roll her eyes before pulling her phone out. "This is my husband. You'd like him, he plays bass and he produces music for an entertainment company. His name is Jungkook, we got married two years ago." Heeseung gives you a glance, your eyes nervous as you breathe out.

"Everything alright?" He asks gently, and you know it's his way of asking if he can talk about you. Your eyes are nervous, but you nod anyway, playing with the hem of your dress. Chaeyoung gives you a once over, patting your knee with a smile. 

"I'm sorry, I know this must be stressful. I should've never taken your offer, Dr. Lee." "No, I think this was necessary, really. For the three of us." You shrug, attempting to appear nonchalant. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes as Heeseung clears his throat, standing up to grab the photo of you off his desk. It's you on your honeymoon – the two of you took it the summer after you graduated from college. You were wearing a white dress and it was one of the most picturesque candids in your collection. He gives you a waywards glance, but you only nod as he sits down.

"This is my wife. You'd like her, she plays piano and crochets and does cross-stitch. She's a therapist. Her name is Y/N, we got married seven years ago." He flips the picture, and you watch her eyes widen out of your peripheral vision. She takes it gently, her manicured thumb stroking your smiling face. She looks pale as she turns to you, her jaw tight.

"Chaeyoung, I'm sorry." You whisper, and she gives you a glare. "Are you? You knew this entire time and you let me open up to you about everything? Did you tell him, too? Did you tell everyone here?" Her voice only raises as she scoots away from you, and you feel your cheeks heat as you run a hand through your hair. "We spent years looking for you, Chaeyoung. There were so many sleepless nights, so many tears, so much stress over you. This is hard for me too, you know." "What, loving a man who is nothing but a shell of a person? Yeah, I'm sure you loved filling his fucking cup until it overflowed while he casted you aside." She sneers, and you feel your chest tighten. "I'm sure it felt great being stuck in your house, wondering when the fuck he'd be home because he was here. Looking at case files, talking to forensics, doing anything instead of being home with you." Your throat burns as you clear it, but Heeseung interrupts as he takes the photo of you back. "Chaeyoung, you're obviously angry. I can't blame you for that, but I also won't allow you to speak to Y/N like this. She's here to help both of us." "Yeah, well you can take your help and fucking shove it, Y/N." She huffs, gathering her coat from the couch cushion. You stand quickly, holding your hands out to deter her from leaving. "Chaeyoung, please let me explain–" "Explain what? How you're a lying bitch?" She spits, and Heeseung's eyes narrow as he opens his mouth to say something, only for you to wave him off. Your gaze is unreadable as she continues to berate you. "You want to explain why you let me agonize over Heeseung for three weeks, and how you listened to me tell you how I felt about him and said nothing? What kind of fucking therapist are you?" "A dumb one." You say softly, "I didn't tell you I was married to Heeseung because that's none of your business. Getting you involved in my personal life could be incredibly damaging to my career, but I did it because I've known about you since before I met Heeseung." Her eyes are aflame as she stares you down, but you don't budge.

"I don't fight over men. I never have, I never will. What I will do, though, is tell you that though I knew mixing my personal life and my career could be a disaster, I did it because I love Heeseung. You suffered, you left because of all the pressure you felt. I understand that pressure, too. I know what it's like for your family to expect something from you that you simply don't want to provide, or feel like you can't."

Her eyes well with tears as she looks away.

"Just as you suffered, though, we did, too." You gesture at the space between you and Heeseung, and he steps slightly closer. "I cannot tell you the nights we spent walking all over town and putting posters anywhere they'd allow us to. I cannot even begin to explain the stress everyone felt, all of your friends, all of your family members because you just disappeared. I wasn't your friend, and I didn't know you personally…but it affected me, too." A tear falls down her face, and you reach to wipe it with the sleeve of your coat.

"There were so many nights that I'd be in Heeseung's dorm just talking about you. He'd tell me so many stories, he's shown me so many photos of you together. He's told me every piece of your life that he knows, and you've sat in my office for three weeks and done the same for him. Things I already knew, and things I didn't." She silently sits back down, letting the tears drip down her face.

"I know it's painful, to want something or someone so bad and have it be just out of your reach. I know it sounds like I'm bragging, or maybe like I'm trying to rub it in your face but I promise I'm not. Loving Heeseung has not been easy, there were many times I wanted to give up. There were nights he'd be locked in the home office, overthinking himself into a bottle of bourbon." You laugh softly, taking Heeseung's seat across from her. He stands behind you, his hand running up and down your back.

"There were times I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to hurt his feelings because he made me feel neglected. He'd come home late, he'd miss dinner, he wouldn't be around to just hang out. You told me during our first session that you and Jungkook dance together all the time, that he sings you to sleep. I cannot tell you how envious I would have been, had I met you just a week earlier." 

Her gaze meets yours, surprised. "What?"

"I mean what I say and I say what I mean." Heeseung speaks up, his voice a lot softer. "I was not a good husband. I'm still not, but it's not your fault. It's my fault, I wanted so badly to know that you were at least okay that I completely neglected Y/N. I wasn't present, emotionally or physically." "I knew it wouldn't be easy, loving someone like Heeseung." You interrupt him, "I knew loving someone who had gone through something so gut wrenching would be one of the most difficult things I'd ever have to do. I wanted it so bad, Chaeyoung. I wanted to love him, and be the glue that held him together. I wanted to be the person he woke up with in the mornings and the person he kissed goodnight. I wanted to be there, no matter what it took." "So you allowed all of it." She murmurs, and you sigh. 

"I fought it. I didn't want to brave the storm that was Lee Heeseung in college. But like a moth to a flame, I stayed. I got hurt time and time again, but the good outweighed the bad so much. I saw so much potential, I saw so much kindness and I knew in my heart I could help it flourish. And now, we're here." "Don't you feel jealous?" She asks, making you smile sadly before nodding. "Of course I felt jealous. I knew there was a girl that knew my husband more than I ever would, and I envied that. I wanted to know everything there was to know, but I had to come to terms with the fact that it simply couldn't be. We're ever-evolving, and while you may have known each other for so many years…you've both changed so much." She closes her eyes, her chipped nails digging into the fabric of her peacoat. Heeseung's hand rubs circles into your back, before you feel him squeeze your shoulder. "I don't hate you." She says suddenly, her eyes on Heeseung. He clicks his tongue, "I don't expect you to. I haven't done anything to you to make myself worthy of hating."

"Why not me?" She mumbles, and Heeseung's eyes close as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Just tell me that." "I can't do that to you, Chaeyoung." He shakes his head, and you hear her scoff. "Just do it, it'll make getting over you a lot easier. I already know you're married, I'm not going to make a fucking move." "I wouldn't allow it, either." He says through gritted teeth, making you shift in your chair, clearing your throat. "Would you like for me to step out?" "No." They say in unison, and Heeseung holds onto your shoulders as he looks at Chaeyoung. "Don't you think your family wants to know you're okay? It's been nine years." "What, do you keep up with them? Do they care about anything else besides that stupid company now?" She rolls her eyes, her jaw tight as she stares at her boots. "Your father sold it." Heeseung speaks softly, "He sold it not even a week after you left. Your sister bought it from him and funded half of the search party that looked for you for a year." Her eyes stay narrowed as her lips purse. "Doesn't mean they care. It was always the company this, the company that. Just like you, Hee." She glares up at him, "Focus on school, Soya. Let's study, Soya. We got into college and you just stopped wanting to hang out like we used to." "I'm 'just like them' because I prioritized my studies? Because I was on scholarship while mommy and daddy paid your way? My fucking bad, Soya." He scoffs, making her scowl. "See? You're just like them." "You're ungrateful! You've always been so blind at how things were just handed to you, you were always so fucking out of touch with everything! Your father had an entire company, a collection of businesses that he sold because you just wanted to up and leave! I don't think you will ever understand how privileged your life has been, even in the years you've been gone." His laugh is humorless as he shakes his head, and you clear your throat. 

"I think maybe this has been enough for one day." "You don't get to decide that, Y/N. I still want an answer. Why. Not. Me." She's standing now, her face tear-stained but her eyes…they're full of fury. Towards who, you're not entirely sure anymore.

You look up at Heeseung, his jaw clenched as he runs a hand through his hair. "You just don't have what I need. I won't be with someone who can't make me feel fulfilled in all aspects of life, or someone who doesn't share the same goals as me. You don't see the world the way I do, and you never have." "And she does?" She gestures at you, her voice thick as her eyes gloss over once more. "Yes. She does. She is everything I could ever ask for and so much more than I will ever deserve." He folds his hands in front of him, "There is always going to be something in this life you cannot have, whether it be an object, a person, even a stick of gum. You can't hold onto that resentment forever, it will make you miserable. You shouldn't live your life that way, not when you have a husband who loves you and a life people would kill for. Not when someone you said was your best friend over and over has someone who loves him." She glares at him, her chest rising with shallow breaths. She shakes her coat off, pulling it over her arms and walking towards the door. Her hand wraps around the doorknob as she looks at the two of you, the tick in her jaw growing tighter as she sees you stand.

"You don't have to act like this, Chaeyoung. You don't have to keep running away, you'll never solve anything this way." "You're married to the man I've been in love with since I was six years old. You lied to me, knowing I was in pain about this entire situation, and you stand here and try to act innocent. You're just as guilty as I am, so you don't get to tell me how I get to act, Y/N." She whispers, a singular tear rolling down her face as she turns to Heeseung. 

"You can tell my parents, and whoever else you please. Y/N can give them my information. I won't be coming back to Seoul, and I won't be visiting your practice again. Do not contact me further, and I won't make a scene."

She throws the door open, revealing the gaggle of detectives bunched around the door. Sunghoon nearly falls into the office as they disperse like bugs, catching himself on the doorframe. Chaeyoung stares up at him, his own eyes flickering to you. "You okay in here?"

"Fine." Heeseung replies curtly, and Chaeyoung scoffs, pushing past Sunghoon with a scowl on her face. She stalks through the precinct, and Minseo stares wide eyed as she shoves Jay and Jake out of the way to the double doors. Your eyes never leave her, continuing to stare after her as the doors shut.

You hear a disappointed sigh from your husband, and you peer up at him as Sunghoon shuts the door with his lips pressed into a thin line. He looks a mess, and you move to comfort him as Jay opens the door. He strides in confidently, a quirk in his brow as he pulls his hand out of his pocket, a new pack of cigarettes in his hand.

"Shall we?" It doesn't take much convincing to get you and Heeseung out the backway of the precinct, and you find yourself resting your forehead against the rough brick of the building. Jay lights your cigarette, sliding it between your fingers as Heeseung lights his own. You mumble a thanks, before holding it between your lips.

"Long day, huh?" He starts, his words muffled as he holds his own between his lips, the flicker of the lighter catching your attention. You nod, pushing off the brick wall to face the two men. Jay gives you a once over, "New dress?" "Storage." You shake your head, blowing smoke from your lips as Heeseung paces back and forth. "How's your girlfriend?" "Not my girlfriend, just a fling. Cut her off a bit ago. Feeling good, though." He nods, and Heeseung walks by you, your hand reaching for him. He takes it, leaning against the wall as he pulls you to him. He spins you around, making you face Jay as he wraps his arm in front of you. "PDA? From Lee Heeseung?" Jay acts shocked as you snort, closing your eyes as you lean your head back onto his shoulder. "You'd be surprised what Lee Heeseung has been up to these days." "Mmh, do tell." He shrugs, flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Did you know sharing details of your sex life to your friends is considered inappropriate social behavior?" You smirk, and he raises his brow.

"Oh, don't tell me the people who have been married for seven years are fucking. Oh man, holy shit." Jay sarcastically rolls his eyes, holding his hand to his chest as if he were clutching pearls. "Like animals." Heeseung speaks for the first time since you stepped outside, making your eyes widen as Jay's do the same. You glance up at him, watching the way he throws the cigarette butt onto the floor and stomps it out with his foot. He plucks yours from your fingers, slotting it between his lips for a slow drag before giving it back. His lips have a layer of glitter on them from your lipgloss.

"Hee, you cannot say that." "Who cares? It's Jay. It's not like he's going to ask to watch us fuck." He shrugs, making your cheeks grow hot as you turn to Jay to apologize, who is looking away with red ears. Heeseung looks over, blowing smoke out of his lips as he speaks. "Dude." "You fucking brought it up, dickwad." Jay scoffs, before stomping out his own cigarette butt. You don't speak, opting to run a hand through your hair as Heeseung sighs.

"Did you guys hear anything through the door?" "Every word. Walls are thin, you know." Jay nods, offering another cigarette. Heeseung takes it, sighing as Jay hands him the lighter. "I cannot believe she's been in love with you since you were kids." "She's not in love with me, she's infatuated with the idea of me." He rolls his eyes, fiddling with the lighter. "Her parents used to fight in front of us all the time, and when we were seventeen she told me that she wanted something better than that. Admirable, truly, but she was never going to find that with me." He holds the blue flame to the cigarette, before handing it back to Jay. "Wasn't she your first kiss?" "Ugh, yeah. I only said yes because she kept talking about how Mina, you remember her sister Mina? Mina had her first kiss at sixteen." He rolls his eyes again, his arm around you tightening slightly as he leans his head back onto the building. "I think a part of me hates her." "That's valid." You and Jay say in unison, before Jay tilts his head for you to continue. You shake yours, shrugging as Heeseung continues to talk. "She always pushed for us to become more and I just didn't want that. She lacks so much compassion, and that's why her father wanted her to take over the company. She's cold and calculated and that's why I befriended her in the first place, because no one wanted to be her friend. She was mean to everyone, but I guess she learned how to fake it well." You'd never heard Heeseung speak of her this way, but he clicks his tongue before you can ask anything. "I don't want to keep talking about her. I still have to call her parents, fuck." He runs his hand over his face. The three of you sigh in unison, a snort from Jay as he notices it, "Well…I can say that I'm glad to know she's alive, even if we don't let her back into our lives."

"Yeah." Heeseung nods, taking a final drag from the cigarette in his mouth before dropping it and putting it out. "I guess that's the silver lining in this all. Nine years…man." You nod silently, before patting his arm. "We can call on Monday when I get home from work. I have to get all her information, anyway, and remove her from my patient registry so her insurance stops getting processed." "Shit, I forgot about that." Heeseung groans, slumping slightly as Jay laughs. "You guys head on home, we can get paperwork processed to actually close the case. We'll see you on Tuesday, Lieu." "Tuesday?" He echoes absently, and Jay scoffs. "Fine, Wednesday. Is that too much time away for you, workaholic?"

Your laugh makes Heeseung look up, watching you as you put out your cigarette. The two of you only indulged every once in a while, and Heeseung never fully took the habit up after you refused to kiss him one night after a smoke. Jay bids the two of you goodnight as you all walk back into the building, his box of cigarettes now broken in and Heeseung beelining for his office to grab his coat. "Hungry?" You ask as he shrugs it on, and he shakes his head. "Wanna go home and shower, go to bed. Wanna cuddle?"

He never asks. You can’t bring yourself to say no, not that you’d want to anyway.

It's easy with you. You end up leaving your car in the precinct parking lot, dropping the keys on Jake's desk with the promise of dinner if he dropped it off at your house before morning. He rolled his eyes but agreed. The entire precinct watched as you left, Heeseung's arm holding you close – a sight they'd never seen.

"Can I be the little spoon tonight?" He asks as he buckles you in, and you press a kiss to his temple. "Yeah, Hee."

Monday, 6:32pm

The two of you spent the weekend processing everything that happened. You reluctantly left your husband's side for work this morning, driving yourself as he slept soundly. Your day felt incredibly slow, your hands aching to feel his warm skin under yours.

You'd felt the need to coddle him all weekend – you made his favorite meals, you massaged his back, you even made him a new pair of slacks. A navy blue this time, his smile shy as he modeled them for you on Sunday night. The two of you cuddled for hours, Heeseung burrowing his face in any crevice you'd allow. He kissed your skin all over, mumbles of I love you and hold me tighter falling from his lips as you spent the passing hours in your bed.

Your last patient of the day was a young girl in her twenties, her eyes constantly glossed over with tears as she tried to get comfortable with you. She wound up sobbing, your chest aching as you tried to comfort her. By the time she left, she looked much better – and she told you, thank you for your help. You have no idea how long I've been holding that in. It was enough to make your chest swell with pride as you drove home, a smile on your lips as you picked up dinner and played soft jazz on the radio. You felt the weight of the world slip onto your shoulders as you pulled into your driveway, killing the engine as you fished your house key out of your bag.

You'd contacted Chaeyoung's insurance the moment you got to the clinic, and pulled her from your patient registry without a second thought. You shoved her file into your bag and pushed the thought of it all out of your mind, choosing to focus all your energy on your patients and the way your shoes hurt your feet.

"Baby?" You called into the house as you opened the door, kicking your heels off with a sigh of relief. The cold tile of the foyer against your hot skin felt like Heaven, a shiver running down your spine as you set the bag of takeout down on the dinner table. You stop to listen, but hear nothing. "Baby, are you home?" You walk down the hall, reaching to take your earrings out as you cross the threshold to the bedroom. You see your husband laying on his back with his headphones on, the light off and curtains drawn. He wouldn't be able to see you if his eyes were open, but you can see him thanks to the light in the hallway behind you. His arms are crossed over his face, but you hear the familiar quiet sob fall from his lips. You feel your chest ache at the sight, but you don't interrupt him. You merely move your hands from your ears, leaving the earrings he gifted you a few years ago on as you fold your hands behind your back.

You watch him cry for a few minutes, before he groans in disgust. He wipes at his face angrily, sitting up abruptly with his eyes wide. He jumps as he sees you, his hand flying to his chest as you smile. "Hi." "Holy shit, babe. Don't do that." He takes his headphones off, carding his fingers through his hair as you shrug. "Maybe don't lay on our bed in the dark when I call for you twice." He rolls his eyes as you near the bed, your palms cool against his skin. "Anything you want to talk about?" Your thumbs wipe his cheeks as he shakes his head.

"Same old, just angry at the entire ordeal." He mumbles, his hands finding your hips. You hum, pressing a kiss to his hairline. "Well, I brought dinner. Come eat with me." "What did you get?" His voice is muffled as he buries his face in your stomach, the buttons of your vest annoying him as he huffs. You card your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails along his scalp, "I stopped at Pasta La Vista." "What happened to no more cheesy pun restaurants?" He snorts, and you pinch his cheek. "Ah, but I love going to those places with you. I love you, you know." 

He sighs, reaching up to turn the light on. His fingers tug gently on the pull cord, the soft yellow light illuminating the room suddenly. You both wince as your eyes adjust, blinking rapidly before looking at each other. His mouth drops, making your head tilt. "Something wrong?" "Babe. Are you serious?"

His voice is whiny, paired with the splotchy cheeks and swollen lips from his crying. You furrow your brow in confusion, feeling his hands tighten on your hips. "What? Did I do something wrong?" "Be so fucking serious with me right now. Look at what you're wearing." He huffs, pulling at one of your belt loops. You glance down at your outfit, a form-fitting black pinstripe suit you hadn't worn in a few years. It had a matching vest, one you paired with a white button down underneath. You'd worn your white Hot Chicks, much to the dismay of your poor feet. "Do I look bad?" You ask softly, glancing at yourself in the mirror when he gets your attention by pulling at your belt buckle. "Are you kidding me? You look fucking amazing! You haven't worn this in ages, where the hell did you find it?" "You could've started with that! You had me thinking I did something wrong!" You huff, swatting at his shoulder as his fingers fiddle with the buttons of your vest. "I'm sorry, but you really caught me off guard. Fuck, have these always fit like this?" He runs his hands down the back of your thighs, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly as you shove his hands off you.

"Stop feeling me up and come eat dinner. We have things to do before we can turn in for the night." You remind him as you turn around to walk out of the bedroom when you feel his fingers pinch the swell of your ass. You reach behind you and smack his hand away, "Stop it!" "Fine, fine. Let me…get cleaned up I guess. I feel gross." He groans, rolling his eyes as he slides off the bed. You make your way to the kitchen without any more of Heeseung's touching, and you carefully plate everything up. You know he'd be content just eating on the couch with a show on, but you need something to busy yourself as your mind whirls with the idea of calling Chaeyoung's parents.

What would you even say? "Nice to meet you, now let me tell you all about how I betrayed your daughter when she came to me for therapy!" You groan, running your hands through your hair as you overwhelm yourself with thoughts. You thought you'd be fine, but you sort of thank your stars that you managed to make it through work without thinking about it. You'd rather be home and agonizing over it than anywhere else.

In all your thinking, you don't hear Heeseung walk into the kitchen. Your head is low between your shoulders as you hold onto the sink, taking deep breaths. You jolt when you feel his hand on your back, a concerned look in his eyes. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, fine. Sorry, just…thinking." You sigh, before pushing off the sink. He gives you a stern look, his hands moving to your waist to pull you into him. “Talk to me.”

You gently bang your forehead against his chest, “What are we even going to tell them?”

A low whistle comes from your husband’s lips, “I have no idea. Promise to still think I’m sexy if I break down?”

You snort, slapping his chest lightly as he smiles down at you. “Emotional vulnerability is sexy, Hee.”

“You want me so bad.” He chides, making you roll your eyes. You try not to let your eyes linger on the muscle of his arms, now showcased by a sleeveless white shirt he must've changed into. “Let’s eat dinner and I’ll take care of whatever hornball issue you have later.”

“Will you keep the suit on?” He asks, brow raised as he scans your face. You rub your temples, before feigning an annoyed sigh. “Yes, Heeseung, I’ll keep the suit on.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He smiles as you try to weasel your way out of his arms, but he holds you tightly. He pins you against the sink, his hand moving to hold your face gently. The tip of his nose touches yours slightly, the same electricity that skin-to-skin contact with your husband causes runs down your spine. “Have I?”

“You’re going to wax poetic after I said I’d keep the suit on to get you off?” You snort, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m going to wax poetic after my wife agrees to some weird shit I ask of her simply because she loves me as I love her.”

You struggle not to roll your eyes, but your warming cheeks give you away. "Please focus on the order of events, will you? Dinner, dreaded call, then whatever freak shit you have in your head. Move it." He grins as he presses a kiss to your forehead, before letting you worm out of his grasp. Dinner is quiet, with neither of you wanting to talk too much in detail about your days. Heeseung would know you were so stressed that you skipped lunch, and you'd know that he'd had to change his pillowcase twice because of how long he'd been crying. It wasn't something either of you wanted to share, but simultaneously, you both knew. "Do you think they'll be happy?" You murmur around a breadstick, a pout on your husband's lips as he chews. "I mean…I would hope so. Mrs. Cha lost her mind when she disappeared." "Define lost her mind." 

He sighs, taking a sip of his water. "I guess the same way I did, but worse. The first year had to have been the worst. No sleep, she barely ate and was having constant breakdowns…but it's different. A mother's love is nothing compared to what I may have felt then." He shrugs, and you find yourself humming in response.

Your eyes are downcast, pushing the remaining pasta around on your plate as he gazes at you. "I'm sorry to have put you through that." "Do you remember our vows? I'd promised I'd be there, always." You say pointedly, and he shakes his head. "I mean, through what happened on Friday. I will never stop apologizing for any of it, I know that in my heart. That day was just too much for you, I saw it in the way you looked at her. She hurt your feelings." "Calling me a bitch is hardly hurting my feelings, I've heard far worse." You snort, but Heeseung leans slightly across the table. "You know that's not what I'm talking about, honey. You're great at your job, you have to know that."

You sigh, "I know, I even had a patient today tell me I helped her a lot and it made me feel really nice. But, I will admit it was a dumb move to keep Chaeyoung as a patient. I should have told her from the get-go who I was and what I knew, and then maybe Friday would've gone differently. If at all, you know." "It's too late to think about what we should have done. We can only look forward, and unfortunately that means we have to make that call to her parents." He slumps in his chair, closing his eyes. "What if I cry?" "Then you cry, honey." You shrug, "I'll be here anyway. We're doing this together." Nothing more is said as the two of you clean up, opting to brush your teeth to remove the taste of the garlic from your tongues. You find yourself reapplying your lipstick, wiping the corners of your lips as you cap the wine red wax. Heeseung sits on the couch with his phone in his hand as you retrieve the file from your purse. He sighs as you walk over, your thigh brushing his as you sit next to him. "Ready?" You ask softly, your fingers flicking the file open. Heeseung sighs inwardly as he dials the number he's known by heart since he was a kid. You drape your leg over his to feel him closer, his hand sliding around your upper thigh as the line rings.

"Cha Residence, Seonmi speaking." 

The woman's voice is tired, and Heeseung squeezes his eyes shut as he speaks. "Hi, Mrs. Cha. It's uhm…it's Heeseung." The line is quiet for a moment, before a gentle sigh is heard. "Hi, sweetheart. Long time." "I know, I'm sorry." He mumbles, earning a soft laugh from her. "Nothing to be sorry for. Are you alright? How's your wife?"

"She's good. She's here, actually. Would you like to say hello?" He holds the phone towards you, and you clear your throat as you say a soft hello. "Oh, hello! Wow, I've never heard you speak, I've only seen photos of you. How are you? Heeseung treating you well, I hope?" You feel your cheeks heat as you respond, "Yeah, yes ma'am. I'm okay, how are you?" "Oh, you know. Same old, struggling. Did you guys need something from me? Maybe something of Soyoung's?" She sounds so tired, it makes your heart ache.

"Actually, we called with an update. If you're in the headspace to hear it." Heeseung says shakily, and you find yourself pressing a kiss to his cheek, stamping your lipstick on his skin. He leans into your lips, and you brush another in the same place before leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Oh, boy. Another sighting, I assume?" Mrs. Cha sounds defeated, and you can hear the clicking of a keyboard in the distance. You clear your throat, and Heeseung holds the phone to you. "I think it's better if my wife tells you." "Sweetheart, please get on with it."

You take the phone gingerly, clearing your throat. "For starters, I'm a therapist in the next town over. I started that job a few weeks back, and I've been taking new patients. Your daughter was one of them." Nothing is heard on the other end, and Heeseung gives you a nod to keep talking. His hand squeezes around your thigh, and you speak again. "She's changed her name, and she's married. I…she talked about everything that led to her disappearance as well as everything going on in her life currently. She's well, and she's established."

"So…you found her?" You hear a soft sob from the other end, your own eyes stinging. "We did. She talked a lot about Heeseung, so I didn't tell her we were married. I drove her to the precinct on Friday to see him again for the first time since she disappeared, and it did not go well, to say the least. However, she did give us permission to share her information with you, and I've got everything in front of me if you've got a pen or something to jot it down." You hear the rustling of paper and pens knocking against each other as someone talks in the background. Mrs. Cha sniffles into the phone, "Go ahead. I'm ready." You read everything out to her, spelling street names and offering to send photos over as well. "And you're sure it's her? You know it?" Mrs. Cha's voice is shaky as you hear a chair get pushed back, and Heeseung replies, "Positive. We wouldn't have called if we weren't sure, I was in denial when Y/N told me." "Do you…should I call her? I know she's angry with me, she must be." Mrs. Cha sounds distant, like she's walking somewhere. "She may be angry, but I'm sure she wouldn't have allowed us to give you her information if she didn't want you to contact her or know of her reappearance." You say gently, and hear Mrs. Cha laugh through her presumed tears.

"You chose the right profession, Y/N. I can see how easily this comes to you." 

Heeseung's eyes widen as he looks down at you, your own lips spread in a shy smile. His eyes speak for themselves – See? Told you.

"Thank you." You murmur, and Heeseung squeezes your leg as he clears his throat. "Well, that's all we really called for. Feel free to keep us updated, we'll get all the paperwork for the case figured out. We can handle our end privately, but you can choose how to go about things on your end." "Thank you, sincerely. I know the last nine years have been grueling for you as well, Heeseung. I hope you know you'll always have a place in our family and our hearts, and you're welcome in our home any time. You as well, Y/N. We'd love to have you over for dinner."

You gape as Heeseung answers gently, saying he'll figure out some dates and get back to her. She agrees, and a soft take care is whispered from your husband before he hangs up.

He leans forward to put his phone and Chaeyoung's file on the coffee table, before sighing. You rest your arm against the back of the couch, smushing your cheek with the heel of your palm. He slumps against the cushions silently, his hand slinking up and down your thigh.

"Feel better? This was somehow under and overwhelming." "Weight off my fucking shoulders, I'll tell you that much." He huffs, rubbing his face in frustration. You hum, reaching to run your fingers through his hair as he turns his head to face you, a pout on his lips. "Why does everything have to suck?" "Does everything suck?" You repeat thoughtfully, looking around your living room. "I mean, consider the good things. We've got this wonderful home, we have our health and your family. We have our jobs. Job market is garbage, you know." He sighs, looking around the room. "Now I just sound ungrateful." You snort, before pushing yourself up and straddling his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You settle high on his thighs, his hands instinctively coming to rest on your hips. "You're not ungrateful, you're just going through the motions. I honestly thought you'd be worse. That's why this all seems so underwhelming to me, I thought it would be a much bigger ordeal, that you'd be excited to see her." "I would have been, if it weren't for the fact that she left at her own will. A part of me just wishes she would have fucking said something, I could've talked to her. Or her parents, or something, you know?" He's frustrated as you nod, thumbing the lobe of his ear. "Oh, but you can't save everyone. You're only human. I know that's one of the first fates you face when you do the kind of work you do." He huffs, "I just have questions that I won't ever get answers to. It bothers me because no matter what she does or says, it just feels like betrayal over and over again. If we pile the fact that she said all those shitty things to you, it just makes me hate her more."

"Hating people is so taxing, baby." You shrug, "It's not good for the spirit, or your hairline." "Keep making jokes about my hairline, see how that works out for you." He scoffs, making you scrunch your nose at him. "I've been making jokes about your hairline since we met, I think it's worked out just fine. I have this house, I have this couch…" You trail off as you lean closer, brushing your nose with his, his eyes wide as he looks up at you. "I have you, on this couch, in this house and your signature on a paper that says you're my husband. What does that say about you?" "That I like gorgeous women in suits who make fun of me, I guess." He shrugs, his hands squeezing your hips as you brush your lips against his. You move away as he tries to connect your lips, making him roll his eyes. "Just kiss me, will you?" "Is that how we get the things we want?" You pull back, your brow raised as he sighs. This was a game you liked to play every once in a while, knowing that Heeseung easily flustered when you took charge. He reveled in it, sure, but it definitely took him a bit to accept that you called the shots.

"Babe, come on." "Hm, I don't like that answer." Shrugging, you start moving off his lap, earning a groan as he uses his strength to hold your hips flush to his. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please kiss me, I need it." "You need it?" You scoff, your hands on his shoulders as he blushes, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. "I need you."

"Yeah? Need me where?" Your eyes look at him expectantly, feeling him shift under you with nerves, looking down. Your gaze doesn't waver as you tilt his chin back up, his eyes full of lust and adoration. "Where?" "Here." His cheeks flushed impossibly deeper as he pouted up at you, moving your fingertips to his lips. He kisses the pads of your fingers, making you coo as you press your lips to the tip of his nose. He chases your lips as you plant kisses around his entire face, stamping your lipstick on his skin carefully. "Baby, please." 

"I love you." You murmur against his lips, making his eyes flutter shut as you finally kiss him. His hands move to your waist, pulling your chest flush to his as you shrug off your suit jacket, tossing it to the side as you gently lick into his mouth. He groans into your mouth, his fingers flexing against your body as you suck on the tip of his tongue. His hips rut up against you slowly, a whine from your throat making you pull away, dragging your lips down his jaw. 

"Can I take care of you, baby?" You murmur against the shell of his ear, making him shiver as you nip at the lobe, a quiet please from his throat. His hands twitch at your sides, soft whines from his lips as you trail your tongue down the slope of his neck. You feel his fingers move to fumble with the buttons of your vest, before he untucks your shirt, sliding his hands slightly under it to feel the heat of your skin against his. 

"I love you so much." He mumbles as you kiss his swollen lips again chastely, your fingers undoing your shirt buttons as he watches your face with low eyes. His hands snake higher on your stomach, before the tips of fingers brush your bare breasts. His eyes widen as he pulls away, jaw falling slack as he sees your lack of undergarments. "Baby." "Just enjoy it." You roll your eyes, shivering as he runs his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. He leans forward slightly, before your hand cards through his hair. "This is not about me." "You said enjoy it. How can I, if you don't let me?" He scoffs, moving your hand from its spot on the nape of his neck, pulling you forward into his mouth. His tongue swirls expertly around the hardened nub, your hand finding and digging into the back of the couch. Heeseung feels his head spinning as he breathes you in, the soft scent of his favorite perfume on your skin. You groan quietly as your hips roll against his, a soft fuck from your lips as he carefully drags his teeth on the sensitive bud. He moves to the other side, your hand tangling in his hair again as he plants wet kisses across your chest. "So perfect for me." He murmurs, flattening his tongue against your nipple as his hands move to undo your belt. He pulls it through the loops within seconds, tossing it aside and palming your ass over your pants, moving you over his bulge slowly. He relishes in the sounds you make, whimpers from your throat making his cock twitch in his pants as he continues to lap at your chest. "Always so fucking beautiful. You make me insane."

You whine in response, pulling his head away from your chest and reconnecting your lips. He feels your hand snake down between your bodies, palming at his hardened cock through his sweatpants. He groans into your mouth, his hips rutting into your hand involuntarily. You slip your tongue in his mouth, letting him messily kiss you back as he tangles a hand in your hair – your own beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging at them gently. He obliges, lifting his hips for you to pull them down to his knees. You pull away from his lips as much as the hand in your hair will allow, your hand wrapping around his leaking cock gently. He shudders as you stroke him, whining against your lips when you pull his hand out of your hair, sliding off his lap and settling between his knees. He lets out a breath as you glance up at him through thick lashes, before pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. His hands move back to your hair, gathering it into a messy ponytail as you continue to drag your lips around his skin, faint lipstick stains marking your path. He feels his stomach cave the moment you swirl your tongue around his tip, a broken moan cutting through the air.

"S'fucking pretty like this…" He groans, watching as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks slightly. Your tongue laps at the underside of his cock, following the thick vein as his tip hits the back of your throat. Gagging around him, you feel his hips jerk up involuntarily, a murmured apology as you pull off, shaking your head. "Want it, want you to do that." 

Your ears are watery as you look up at him, your hand wrapped around his shaft as his lips parted in a soft grunt. He wipes his thumb across your lower lip before he takes his cock in his hand, "Beautiful."

You feel your cheeks flush, not responding to the compliment as he opens your mouth for you. You stick out your tongue, making him smirk as he slides the heavy head of his cock on it. You blink up at him before you sink down on him, hearing a soft sigh fall from his lips. He rocks his hips up slowly, throwing his head back with a whimper as you gag around him.

"Feel s'fucking good, baby. Love you so much, fuck…" You feel your skin prickle at the praise, your eyes brimming with tears as the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat, a groan making him shiver. "Always so good to me…"

You hum as best as you can, feeling his hand tighten in your hair as the tell-tale whimper falls from your husband's lips. He pulls you off almost reluctantly, staring up at the ceiling and biting down on his lip as you look up at him, seeing his chest move in shallow breaths. "Hee–" "Need to feel you." He pulls you off your knees by your wrists, making you slide your knee between his for balance. His lips feel frantic as he kisses you messily, groaning at the slight taste of himself inside your mouth as you try to keep up. "Need to cum inside you, baby." His lips ghost over yours as he unbuttons your slacks, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip as he hooks his thumbs into the belt loops. You let him tug them down, stepping out of them when he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your skin. "Take it off." "What, do you want me to strip for you?" You roll your eyes, and he smirks lightly. "We can spin that back another time. Take it off." You oblige, feeling your husband's hands wrap around your thighs as you kick your underwear off to the side. He pulls you forward, instinctively making you straddle him slightly before he looks up, his hand snaking between your thighs. "Do you need–"

You shake your head quickly as he glides his fingers through your wet folds, his eyes widening as you shiver. He holds his hand up to the light, your arousal stringy between his fingers, gathering around his wedding band. He peers up at you, "Really?" "Shut up." Your cheeks burn as he scoffs out a laugh, before running his tongue over his fingers. "All fours, please." He tilts his head towards the free space on the couch, your eyes narrowing as you do as he says, hearing the thwip of his shirt being pulled over his head. 

"You know," You mumble as you settle on your elbows, "This is not-ah!" The warm feeling of Heeseung's tongue on your clit makes you jolt, and you feel him smile into your skin as his hands rest on your hips. He groans as you push your hips against his face, your fingers digging into the couch cushion as you whine into the brown suede. "So fucking wet, for what? A little kissing?" He's talking down to you, amused at the way your pussy clenches around his tongue, your whimper muffled by your shirt sleeve, "I love you." "Yeah? My messy girl loves me?" His voice is clearer now, and you feel his hand grip your hip as he drags the tip of his cock through your folds with a hiss. You push back against him with a whine, earning a firm smack to the back of your thigh. "Behave. You can wait."

You can hear him mutter under his breath as he ruts against you, his breathing shaky as he holds you steady. You feel him sink inside you slowly, the wet squelch making your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you whimper at the stretch. "I know honey, I know." Heeseung's voice is almost goading as he rocks into you slowly, biting down on his lip as you clench around him. "You take me so well, baby. Just love this dick, huh?" He holds your hips tight as you nod, your voice lost on you as he brushes that spongy spot inside you. You're pliant in his hands, your eyes rolling back when you feel his hand come down on your ass sharply, a moan falling from your lips into the cushion.

"Filthy little thing." He mutters, running his hand over the reddened skin. "Love being treated like a slut, don't you?" His fingers move to hold onto your waist, hearing you mumble something before leaning down slightly. "Don't you?" "Yours. Your slut." You mumble as you nod shyly, the duality making his chest ache as he coos. "All mine, yeah? Get this wet for me only, right?" The sound of your soft moans is almost drowned out by the smack of his hips against your ass. 

"Always feel so good around me, baby, shit.." His hand tangles in your hair, pulling you up carefully. You whimper as your back hits his chest, your hand holding onto the back of the couch as he bullies his cock into you. He feels you clamp down around him, your skin hot to the touch as he slides his hand down, circling your clit with his fingers.

"Always take such good care of me, my gorgeous girl. My wife, fuck, I love you." He mutters into your neck, his eyes catching your earrings swinging as he nips at your skin. You whine inwardly, looking away from him as you clench around him, your orgasm on the tip of your tongue as he thrusts into you. 

His hand moves from your hair to cradle your face, turning you just slightly to see the fucked out glaze in your eyes, your lips swollen and slick with spit. He smiles softly, brushing his lips over yours, "I love you."

You close your eyes as he kisses you messily, nothing but teeth and tongue as your orgasm washes over you, a whiny moan into your husband's mouth. He carefully tugs off your vest and shirt, "Just a little more baby, almost there. Gonna fill you up, yeah?" "Y-Yeah." You whimper as he lets you fall forward slowly, your trembling thighs only egging him on as he runs his hands over your bare back. "So fucking perfect. S-Such a perfect woman, could never ask for anyone better. M-My angel, my everything." He's rambling, forcing himself to focus as he overstimulates you chasing his orgasm. You mewl into the cushion relentlessly, pushing against him when he notices you holding your hand out behind your back. He interlocks your fingers, before spilling inside you with a whimper. He shudders above you, your hand squeezing his gently before you let go. He digs his fingers into your hips deeply, earning a groan as you shakily try to sit up on your elbows. You only manage to push back on him, a choked moan ringing through the air as he grabs at your hips. He winces as he pulls out carefully, his eyes glued to the way you clench around nothing with soft breaths. His fingers ghost over your hole as you push his release out, not realizing how sensitive you are as he smears it all over your glistening folds. "H-Heeseung!" You reach back to swat at him, making his eyes snap up to look at you. He smiles sheepishly, apologizing under his breath as he wipes his fingers on his shirt. 

"You okay?" He murmurs, his cheeks aflame as he realizes how spent you are, your hips almost giving out as he holds you up. You give him a tired nod, "We cannot fuck on my precious couch again. People sit here." He scoffs, and you feel the soft cotton of his shirt wiping down your legs. You feel him shift behind you, flinching when you feel his shirt wiping between your thighs. "Can't we just shower?" "We can, but I can't lie…I kind of like watching it drip out." He admits quietly, and you roll your eyes. "I feed so many of your guilty pleasures, but this is one I'm going to cut short. I'm all sticky." "I can make you stickier, if you want." He runs his hands up your thighs, and you scoff as you use your remaining strength to flip yourself onto your back. He's red in the face, and not just from your lipstick, his eyes glued to your center. "Hee, stop. You fucking freak." "This fucking freak is your husband, I'd be nicer to me if I were you. I suggest you tell me you love me, that's a pretty good start." He shrugs, acting nonchalant as he leans down. You give him an amused look as you run your fingers through his hair, "And I married you, why?" "Because I'm tall, tan, young, lovely." He shrugs, making you snort. "Girl from Ipanema, is that you?" "I love you." He wrinkles his nose as you press a soft kiss to it, his hands carefully moving your hair out of your eyes. "Thank you. I didn't realize how much I needed this. How much I…need you. I'm sorry it's taken me this long, baby." Your cheeks warm at his confession, your thumbs gently stroking his cheeks. "I love you. I'm always here when you need a little TLC." "And when I don't?" "And when I do, and when I don't. Whenever, you know I'm here." You assure softly, his eyes slightly glazed over as you press a chaste kiss to his lips. "However, I will admit…my TLC of preference right now is a hot shower. Care to join me?" "You and your hot showers. Can you even stand up?"

"If I can't, it just means you can eat me out in the shower." You shrug, seeing the wheels turn in your husband's head as he locks your legs around his waist. A shriek falls from your lips as he picks you up, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he moves towards the bathroom with a kiss to your lips. "And suddenly, I too, love hot showers. Shall we?"

Tuesday, 12:33pm.

It'd been a few weeks since you and Heeseung reached out to the Cha family, and the case had been officially declared closed by the Seventh Precinct. However, such a reappearance after so many years for such a prolific family meant many, many interviews and involvement with the press. It meant seeing Chaeyoung and her husband, as well as her family over and over again, even when it came to things that weren't about her.

Your relationship was still not perfect – with you and Heeseung slowly working through your issues, things got easier. He managed to submit the paperwork for his vacation to start on Friday, and had some final things to settle at the Seoul Central District Court with a few attorneys involved in a case he and Jay were attempting to break into. He'd called you to meet him and Sunoo for lunch and a meeting to bring you on as an expert witness, as you had a short day in the office.

Short day in the office does not warrant a short day outside of it, though – and you found your husband crowded by reporters and flashing cameras as you tried to quietly make your way into the courthouse. You hoped they wouldn't see you – Heeseung had been pissed enough already when a few reporters dragged your name through the mud when Chaeyoung gave her side of the story, pictures of you that he loved now torn to shreds by internet trolls and what little social media you did have had been flooded with hateful comments. You wound up deleting everything, and staying away from your phone as much as possible. Heeseung arranged private security, and even had Sunghoon assigned to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity around you. 

Nothing had happened, and you were sure nothing would – but you couldn't lie, you felt safer when you and Heeseung were behind the locked doors of your home, hidden away in your bedroom.

You could hear the reporters shouting questions at Heeseung, the tick in his jaw evident as he answered one question at a time. You watch from afar a bit, your facemask protecting you from being discovered as you inch closer. You can see his patience begin to thin and you're about to barrel down the steps to him when you hear a reporter shout over all the others.

"Lieutenant, your wife has been dragged by the media in all forms. What are your thoughts on that, considering that Jeon Chaeyoung was once your life-long friend?" Heeseung's face hardens, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as he speaks.

"I have nothing to say on Mrs. Jeon, I cannot understand why she'd speak about Dr. Lee that way. Please write that down, put that into the world. She's not just my wife, she's her own person and she had a huge role in this case. I would have lost my mind if it weren't for her, and her impact should not be reduced simply because we're married." You feel your chest fill with warmth as you take a few more steps down, a reporter spotting you and you press a finger to your facemask, your wedding ring making her eyes widen. She says nothing as you listen to Heeseung speak.

"Dr. Lee was a pertinent witness to the entire case, and had she not been involved, had she not said something, Mrs. Jeon's case would've remained open and no one would know of her whereabouts. Her family had been in absolute shambles for the last nine years, and frankly, as harsh as it sounds, I'm glad that it's finally over. Dr. Lee is not to blame for whatever upset feelings Mrs. Jeon may have, or whatever resentment she may have towards myself. If she wants to drag anyone through the dirt, she might as well drag me. Dr. Lee is entirely innocent in this, she was a huge stepping stone in bridging crucial pieces of information together and restoring the Cha family. In other words, keep my wife's name out of your mouth unless you're praising her. I'm tired of hearing this, so I have nothing more to say on the matter."

Your eyes are wide as he shrugs, before the reporter who spotted you makes a few moves up the steps, trying not to alert anyone else. You tilt your head at her, and she quietly steps up to you. She holds her recorder up slightly, and you nod, beckoning her closer with your hand.

"Dr. Lee, how do you feel about Lieutenant Lee coming to your defense amongst the influx of hate from netizens?" You lean down to her to speak into the small microphone, clearing your throat. "I think Lieutenant Lee is one of the most kind-hearted, driven, loving people in my life. There's a reason he's my husband, you know. I couldn't ask for a better man." The reporter's eyes soften as Heeseung turns around, bidding the reporters a goodbye as he buttons his coat up, trekking back up the stairs. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours as you give him a little wave. He walks up to you, giving the reporter a curt nod before slipping his fingers in yours. 

The reporter gives you a soft thank you, before walking down the steps. You let Heeseung guide you up the steps, and glance over your shoulder to see reporters taking photos of the two of you from behind. You nudge him with your elbow, and he looks down at you. "Yes?" "Kiss me." You tilt your head towards the reporters, and he snorts as the two of you reach the doors. "You sure?" "Positive." You nod as you pull your mask off, the camera flashes almost blinding as they watch you press your lips to Heeseung's, his arm wrapping around your waist as his hand cradles your cheek. Your lipstick stains his mouth as you pull away, and you give the reporters a cheeky thumbs up as he pulls you into the courthouse.

Sunoo's eyes are wide as you walk into his quarters with Heeseung, your lipstick now also stamped on his cheek from a kiss you gave him in the hallway. He smiles warmly as you offer a hug, embracing you tightly. "God, it's so nice to see you in love." He murmurs into your hair, patting your back before you all take a seat at his desk. The three of you are going over the options for lunch when you hear a knock at the door, your head whipping around to see your mother entering the office. Your eyes widen, and Heeseung is up before you know it. He's greeting her warmly, her face remaining stoic as he takes her coat. She looks tired, and you stand on shaky legs.

"Hello, Mother." You say softly, your eyes flickering to Heeseung and Sunoo as they stand to the side. She steps in front of you, her eyes scanning you carefully. You wince as she steps slightly closer, only for her to breathe out softly.

"I wanted to speak to you earlier this week, amidst everything in the media. However, I'm too prolific and I worried I'd be followed to your home, so I left a few messages on your answering machine. I assume you didn't receive them, so is now a good time?" She's still professional, your mother had no idea how to be comforting or warm. You nod slowly, shoving your trembling hands into your coat. "S-Sure. Yeah, we can talk." Your mother had never cared who was around when she spoke to you about anything. It was one of the more mortifying things about her, but she made up for it by keeping her voice quiet enough that only you could hear her.

"May I touch you?" She asks with a twinge in her voice you'd never heard, and you nod slowly. "Okay." She doesn't wait for another second, throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a tight embrace. Your eyes are wide as you look at Heeseung and Sunoo, their own the size of saucers as you awkwardly wrap your arms around her. "Are you…alright?" "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I read everything that you said in your interviews, about Chaeyoung and her reasons behind leaving, and how deeply you understood her dilemma. I never realized I was pushing you away, and I'm incredibly sorry if I ever made you feel like I wasn't supportive of your dreams or career choices. I know that this may be a too little, too late sort of situation, but I couldn't let more time go by without letting you know how proud I am of you and everything you've accomplished, not just as a professional but as a woman, as my daughter, as a wife."

Your eyes are stinging with tears as Heeseung's jaw drops, your mother pulling back to cup your face in her hands. "And I'll sue that little bitch for all she has for dragging you through the mud. I'll do it, I'll wring her dry of every asset she's ever acquired."

Her eyes are full of tears as you gape at her, before she presses a kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much, darling. I'm so, so sorry."

"Mom-" "I'm so glad to have you, darling. Please don't disappear on me, I promise you I cannot handle it." You let her pull you back into her embrace, the tears streaming down your cheeks before she pulls away quickly. "Alright, I've got a meeting I'm running late to. I just saw you in the window and I needed to pop in and talk to you. As you were, I'll give you a call later." She gives the three of you a curt nod, before taking her coat and skirting back out of Sunoo's office.

The three of you are silent, your arms wrapped around yourself as you cover your mouth with your hand. You don't wipe your tears as they stream down, and you look up at the men staring at you in shock. "She said she's proud of me." You whine suddenly, and Heeseung lets out a soft laugh as you walk into his embrace, Sunoo smiling to himself as Heeseung strokes your hair, sharing a glance with his long-time friend as you sob into his shirt. "Oh, my baby. You deserve all that and more."

"Should we push the meeting? I think we've got a lot of big feelings to work out, Dr. Lee." Sunoo speaks up gently, and you pout as Heeseung agrees before you can say anything. You mumble out an apology, but Sunoo shakes his head, waving you off. "Let me lead you out the backway, those reporters would have a ball with your crying face."

"Shut up, Sunoo." You scoff, making him snicker as he leads you both out of his office, your head bowed as you let Heeseung hide you from onlookers. You both quietly thanked Sunoo as he opened the door for you and bid you farewell, saying he'd try and get everything done before Heeseung's allotted vacation time. They agreed to meet again on Thursday, with Sunoo giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

"Give yourself some more credit, Y/N. You deserve it."

Saturday, 4:44pm.

"You found it? You look so beautiful, holy shit." Heeseung was laid on the bed, held up by his elbows as you stood in front of the mirror, a quizzical look on your face as you clipped in your earrings. You purse your lips, turning to face him, the sarong skirt of the dress he'd made you swinging slightly.

"You sure? It's not too…showy?" You pout, running your hands over the soft white fabric. You'd dug this dress back out specifically for this occasion, renewing your vows with your husband on a simple vacation in the middle of nowhere. By middle of nowhere, you mean the same field he proposed to you in, two hours out of Seoul and likely full of flowers this time of year.

"Baby, it's just you and me. You can be as showy as you want in your dress, as bummy as you want in your sweatpants. You're fucking angelic." He pulls you to him by your hips, "I did great on this hem, you can't lie." "Wonderful, yes." You roll your eyes, feeling his hands snake under the skirt. You allow it, feeling your cheeks warm as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your hip. "Let me go down on you." You sigh, rubbing your temples as your husband presses a kiss to your cleavage. "Heeseung, the sun is going to set and we're going to be doing this in the dark." "Can I go down on you after?" He questions, not really paying attention as he stands, his hands low on your back as he pulls you to him. "Heeseung." "Two orgasms, right after we're done, on the hood of my car." He offers, making you snort. "One orgasm, after we're done, in the backseat." "I'll take it!" He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, making you giggle as he lands a soft smack to your ass. "Stop it!" "You love me! Now get your cute ass in the car, we've got shit to do."

And it feels easy. It feels light, sitting next to Heeseung as he pulls out of the driveway with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding your fingers tightly. It feels good, listening to your husband sing along softly to soft jazz songs on the radio before you plug in your phone, and then hearing him sing along to your playlists. It feels like getting a breath of fresh air when you see the afternoon sunlight beaming on his skin, his white shirt reflecting the light painfully into your eyes. It feels like the way your heart starts beating a little faster when you catch a whiff of his spicy cologne, your eyes falling on him with a soft smile. It feels like an emotional orgasm when he times playing No Song Without You by HONNE perfectly to when you arrive, your pout being kissed off frantically by your attentive, doting husband. It feels like falling in love when he holds you close, pressing his lips anywhere you'd allow him to as you both reach into your pockets for the thick packets of words you've written. It feels like falling in love when he goes off script, holding the papers in his hand as he looks into your eyes. It feels like falling in love when he kisses your tears off your face as you tell him how much you appreciate his changes, it feels like falling in love when he says you should never thank him for doing what's right. It feels like falling in love, when he pulls a box out of his pocket and presents yet another gold ring to add to your set, with your initials engraved on the outside.

It feels like falling in love with he suggests you both pick flowers from the field to press when you get home. It feels like falling in love when he holds your hand and pulls you close when you've wandered too far, it feels like falling in love when he's kissing you against the hood of his car. It feels like falling in love when he carries you into the backseat and you wind up naked in his lap, a whining and writhing mess as he tells you how pretty you are, how much he loves you, how bad he wants to get you pregnant so everyone knows you're his. It feels like falling in love, when on the ride home, he can't keep his hands off you.

It feels like falling in love, when he wastes no time getting you in the bedroom, your dress on the floor with his shirt and pants. It feels like falling in love when he draws a bath for the two of you, it feels like falling in love when he tells you I love you as he washes your hair, your body, your face.

It feels like falling in love again, but this time? You don't feel like you're falling alone.

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

TAGLIST: @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @petalsofink @teddybeartaetae @chocminteu @moon0fthenight @delvziion @heeseungthel0ml @bbyjw @isa942572, @304files, @seungjiseyo @gaytron3000 @melonvrs @yizhoutv @riribelle @swaggieee

[myjungkookthighs]

MY FAVORITE JUNGKOOK FANFICS & RECOMMENDATIONS PART1 ✮⋆˙──────────୨ৎ───────────˙⋆✮

My first lists! These from my favorites JJK fics writers and how amazing their works and most of the fics are top-notch and i really recommend y'all to read it and show some love to their works!! 💗 ( Most of the fics are 🔞+ ) @myjungkookthighs

♥︎— NEEDY | Part 1, Part 2 by @girlygguk ( I'm going to say i love all of my baby lyssa's works she's an amazing writer that i adored so much. All her fics like a drugs to me , top-notch! lol)

nerd!jk x cheerleader!(f)reader

hiding his feelings when you didn’t even know his name was hard. hiding his neediness and obsession when you finally did know his name and you were his fucking girlfriend? impossible. well, then it's a good thing you like him needy.

♥︎—FIRST CLASS | Part 1 by @girlygguk ( chef kiss🤌)

rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader

in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.

♥︎—CRAZY | Part 1, Part2 by @girlygguk (addicted like a mad person)

ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.

♥︎—HABITS (STAY HIGH) | Part1 by @girlygguk

student plug!jk x rich girl!reader

You9:06 PM do you be 🙄’ing other bitches yes or no

♥︎—BAD THINGS | Part 1 by @girlygguk

jock fuckboy!jk x nerdy fuckgirl!reader

getting jealous, sending mixed signals, simping for a gorgeous geek who has no idea what effect she has on him... it's just what jungkook does best. oh, and football. he's really good at football.

♥︎—DENIAL | Part1, Part2 by @girlygguk

idol!jk x (f)actress!reader

it's been a plethora of secret meetups, quickies in the bathrooms of his award shows, and 2 am 'you up?' texts during your year-long situationship with jungkook. you both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. jungkook sees, and he's ma

♥︎— BETWEEN THE RIDE AND THE ROSES (series) by @focusonkayjay

biker!Jk x flower shop owner!Reader

There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

♥︎— FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE (series)by @dailynnt (Shout out to my love, her fic so amazing !!)

Best friend!Jungkook x Fem!Reader fwb!

What happens when two best friends try to get along under the same roof? You've been living with Jungkook for three months now, but your cohabitation is still a challenge for you. He continues to live like a real bachelor without following the rules you agreed upon from the beginning of your decision to live together. Should you find a compromise or should you find a new place to live?

♥︎—OLDER by @lovieku

dilf!jk x inexperienced!fem reader (i'm sucker for older or dilf jk!😭)

you’ve tried, but you can’t help yourself from crushing on your best friend’s dad. hot, buff, tatted up and successful, mr. jeon is the starring actor in all of your wettest dreams. and as you wake up from one while sleeping over at his house after his daughter’s birthday party, you don’t expect all of them to suddenly come true. but they do.

♥︎—HANDS ON ME by @lovieku

nerd!jk x popular!fem reader

it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.

♥︎—OBVIOUS by @lovieku

bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader

you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.

♥︎— GUYS MY AGE (one-shot) Drabble 1, Drabble 2 ,by @kooktrash

dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her] ( i had read 3 times cuz i'm sucker of it bcs IT'S CHEF KISS🤌)

a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.

♥︎— INFRUNAMI by @kooktrash

friends to lovers. y/n[afab, she/her] x best friend jungkook

you’ve made great friends throughout the years but none like jeon jungkook. he’s there for you when you need him and although at times when things get complicated between your feelings and thoughts… there’s one thing for certain. you both have been wasting time acting like there’s nothing between you.

♥︎— DEPEND ON ME by @kooktrash

Hybridbunnygirl!reader x human!jungkook

you’re so used to letting Jungkook do everything for you. he babies you almost and you’re both constantly reminded of the strangeness in your friendship. you’ve always loved him but he can’t see you as anything but the little bunny girl he used to protect. you change his mind

♥︎— NEVER AGAIN by @kooktrash

neighbor!jk x Reader

jeon jungkook is just your nosy neighbor who can’t seem to be anything less than a selfish, heart breaking, prick in your eyes. yet somehow he manages to wiggle his way into your life but is it enough for him to change your mind or will he prove your judgements right?

♥︎—MY DEAR FRIEND by @kooktrash

friends!jk x experienced!reader, f2l ( about a few day need to moved on from this fic)

just friends? keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.

♥︎— BUNNY ADVENTURES by @kooktrash

hybrid!Jungkook x human!reader

you had absolutely no intentions of ever owning a hybrid until jungkook came along. a mistreated, misunderstood rabbit hybrid who’d only ever wanted was to be treated like an equal.

♥︎— RISQUE (series) by @mercurygguk

older!jk x reader age gap au (my all time favorite 😭)

in which jungkook struggles to keep his relationship with you strictly appropriate and it’s not like you’re making it easy for him.

♥︎— THE DILF INSTALLMENTS (series) by @mercurygguk

dad!jungkook x f. reader

this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

♥︎— THE ART OF (DILF JK SERIES) by @venusiangguk

 dilf jk x grocery store clerk reader ( never over this bcs it's cute 🤧)

you find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you

♥︎— ONLY WHEN IT'S US (series) by @luvismenu

Uni! Jungkook x Fem Reader Strangers to??

you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.

♥︎— STARBOY (series)by @luvismenu

popular classmate!jungkook x class president!reader

everyone assumes you two can't stand each other, but is that really true?

♥︎—BED CHEM (Mini Series) by @muniimyg

Uni student!Jungkook x uni Student! Reader Frenemies to lovers!

after overhearing jungkook fuck someone else; you can’t help but want out of being his frenemy

♥︎— BABYDADDY!JK (series) by @muniimyg

ex!au jungkook x ex!reader

Co- parenting

♥︎—ITBOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK | (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) by @muniimyg

ITbf!Jk x Fem Reader

♥︎—JUST TAKE IT (series) by @ahgasegotarmy116

Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) dilf! jk

A turn of events has the people you thought you trusted stabbing you in the back and leaving you broken hearted and betrayed. Who knew though that sometimes things just happen for a reason

♥︎—BANG-ABLE (mini one-shot/drabble) by @ahgasegotarmy116

f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook (I'm obsessed!! 😭)

You've been single for way too long and you're done with causal sex and all the drama that comes along with it...so why not try something new?

♥︎— DEEP SIX (mini series) by @bratkook but i read on AO3

biker!jk x reader

It’s like a stranger had a key, came inside of my mind and moved all my things around. He didn’t know snakes can hear the prey, can’t try to break the psyche down.

♥︎— CHAMPANGE CONFFETI by @margotw10bis

boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader

Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans

♥︎— PARADISE (series) by @minisugakoobies i read on AO3

 Stripper!Jungkook x Reader (my absolute favorite!😭)

That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

♥︎— THE PINK PILL -"3 DAYS" by @dollfaceksj

best friend!jungkook x fem!reader (top-notch!i read twice😭)

In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.

♥︎— THE WEEKEND by @chryblossomjjk

dilf!jk x babysitter reader ( the best thing ever! 😭)

every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.

♥︎—SUGARPLUM ELERGY by @bymoonchild

College!Jungkook x Reader , fwb (i can't let go of this story top-notch)

You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

♥︎— MICROWAVE (MIS)ADVENTURE by @bymoonchild

housemate!Jungkook x Reader

Out of all things to be afraid of, Jungkook, the seat-stealer of your 8am class and annoying housemate whom you despise with every fiber of your being, chooses to have a phobia of microwaves, but he loves buying microwaveable food – because come on, they’re irresistible – and you somehow find yourself getting dragged into his microwaves (mis)adventures. Cue chaos, sarcasm-laced banter and an unplanned romance.

♥︎— COLD NIGHTS AND BLURRED LINES| WARM NIGHTS & CLEAR LINES| cnbldrabbles by @awrkive

basketball!jungkook x nerdy!(fem) reader,fwb (i'm crazy over this 😭)

jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

♥︎—CAN'T LET IT GO (part 1)| PHYSICALLY OBSESSED(part2) by @chunghasweetie

dom!oc x nerdysub!jjk

loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.

oc finally cuffs jk and they celebrate

♥︎— HE GIVE IT TO ME (Part1) | WONT TOUCH YOU LIKE ME (Part2)by @chunghasweetie

fem!oc x dealer!jjk

always giving out free shit to his favorite customer.

after a petty argument jungkook spots you showing out at a party with the hosts arm around your waist.

♥︎— MERAKI by @taegularities

grumpy!Jk x sunshine!reader

Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

♥︎—NO NUT NOVEMBER by @2hightocare

dilf!jungkook x fem!reader

Jungkook didn’t think stuff through when he made a bet for “No Nut November” he seemed to forget that he can’t say no to you.

♥︎— FOR ME (DILF!JK DRABBLES COLLECTION ) by @personasintro

dilf!jungkook x reader

A collection of drabbles accompanied with dilf!jk

♥︎— BURNING HOUR by @jungqkook

Richbf!jk x gf!reader (you gonna need holy water later lmao!)

there’s nothing better than spending an entire day at your boyfriend’s yatch, tanning and waiting for the sunset with a drink in your hand… too bad your boyfriend had other plans for you.

♥︎—BETTER BOYFRIEND THAN HIM by @jungqkook

friend!Jk x reader

jungkook makes it a mission to prove to you that he can be better than your boring boyfriend. when it comes to sex, at least.

♥︎— FIGHT FOR YOU (series) by @ahundredtimesover

bodyguard!jk x heiress!reader

Working at a private security agency has its perks. The downside? Being the personal bodyguard of spoiled, rich heiresses like you. But there are things that Jungkook didn’t expect, like rejecting you, falling for you, and realizing what he’d been missing all along.

♥︎— GUARDED by @junghelioseok

bodyguard!Jk x Reader

❛❛ good girl. ❜❜ ❛❛ don’t get shy on me now. ❜❜

♥︎—BODYGUARD by @sxtaep

bodyguard!jk, idol!reader

when you’re stuck in a near-death situation, your high school crush, now your bodyguard, begins to regret ever rejecting you 5 years ago.

♥︎—STRIKE THREE by @avveh (ao3)

Bodyguark!jk x Bratty!Reader ( i'm obsessed!)

When discipline and chaos meet, one will always rise to the top.

♥︎— EVERYTHING IN YOU |Part1, Part2 , DRABBLE1, DRABBLE 2, DRABBLE 3 by @jjungkookislife

roommate!sperm donor Jk x pregnant! Reader (my favorite iso cute)

You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help

♥︎— BABYMAKER by @badbtssmut

bestfriend!Jk x Reader

You want a baby, but you just broke up with your boyfriend but your best friend Jungkook offers you the solution to your heart break, he’ll give you your baby, no strings attached.

♥︎— SPECIAL PREPARATION by @badbtssmut

Piercer!Jungkook x Reader

You go to a piercing shop to get a clit piercing but your piercer Jungkook has an interesting way of prepping his clients.

─────────────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────────────

Actually i like all Miss Cherry @redcherrykook fics and i read them all and her works always the bomb never disappointed me and here i will share my most favorites from her🤪💗

♥︎— SAFEWORD

daddy!jungkook and sub oc

♥︎—SPOT ME INSTEAD

gymrat!JK x gymrat!reader

♥︎—MIDNIGHT SNACK

idol!Jk x gf!Reader

♥︎—MILK AND CREAM

sub!JKx noona!Reader

♥︎—BAD BOY,GOOD GIRL/HIGHSCHOOL SWEET

highschool sweethearts!jk x Reader

♥︎— (TENT)ATIVE ENEMIES

friendnemie!Jk x Reader

♥︎— Kinktober D1-SOMNOPHILLIA

needy JK x reader

♥︎—Kinktober D8- OFFICER PLAYS & CUFFS

roleplay!!JKx bad girl oc

♥︎—Kinktober D10- SPANKING & PUNISHING

DADDY KINK JK! x sub oc

♥︎—Kinktober D12- MIRROR SEX

idol bf! Jk x gf! Reader

♥︎—Kinktober D16- MARKING

possessive bf! JK x Reader

♥︎—Kinktober D19- DACRYPHILLIA (crying kink)

Daddy! Jk x Crybaby! reader

♥︎—Kinktober D22- EXHIBITIONISM

bf!jk x gf reader

by @redcherrykook

That's it for part1 !

[flemingology]

christmas request - you get sexy christmas lingerie and surprise leah with a lapdance (which inevitably leads to smut)

unwrapping you ─ leah williamson x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: you leave leah's best surprise for last

warnings: implied smut (18+), lap dance, language but also a whole load of fluff

wc: 3.9k

a/n: most unrealistic part in this fic is chicken soup and sandwiches being one of leah fav foods (god forbid that woman eats something colored). in other words... how does one write a lap dance????? this is not full-blown smut. i didn't really feel like including that in this series, but i hope i still did your request justice. <3

Your first Christmas with Leah had been perfect.

Your lover woke you up this morning to breakfast in bed, Leah wanting to make use of the fact she finally perfected the one recipe she knew – fluffy pancakes. You thanked her accordingly with a couple fierce kisses that soon turned into way more than either of you had planned, the two of you finally rolling out of bed a good two hours later, messy hair and flushed cheeks a testament to what you had been up to in bed.

You took a warm shower together, and then set foot outside for a light Sunday morning stroll through London's Christmas markets. You walked side by side, one hand occupied with holding Leah's, other hand nursing a hot chocolate. You took your time on each stall, admiring all the handmade ornaments, pieces of clothing and so many other things that were up for sale. You managed not to spend too much, not getting anything more than a small extra present for your sister and a cute little ornament you would add to your table decoration for the team dinner on New Year's Day.

Back home, you made a quick lunch. You heated up some leftovers from the night before, when you made chicken soup and some sandwiches, one of Leah's self-proclaimed favorite dishes that you made. You spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about, gliding from one Friends episode into the other, drifting in and out of sleep in each other's arms on the couch.

It wasn't until evening came around though, that the best part of the day took place. You had kept the best for last; the presents. Normally you weren't one to wait for the evening, but Leah claimed that it would be cozier, and you had to agree. Your apartment was coated in a warm glow from the mood lighting all around, a couple vanilla-scented candles adding to the cozy atmosphere, you and your blonde lover cuddled up on the couch, a pile of unopened presents ready to be attacked on your coffee table.

As promise to one another, neither of you went overboard. Leah had quite the tendency to spoil you, but you wanted none of that. And to your surprise, she actually stuck to her promise. There were 5 presents on the coffee table; 2 for your girlfriend and 3 for you. Unbeknownst to Leah, though, her 3rd and arguably best present of the night, was already unpacked and waiting for her under your layer of clothes.

A couple days ago, while Leah was at training, you ventured out into the busy streets of London for a final surprise for your girlfriend. You were more than happy with the two presents you had at hand, but you couldn't shake the thought in your mind that had been there for the past couple of weeks, to buy a new set of red, lace lingerie – one that you knew would drive her completely nuts.

So with that secret in mind, you and Leah started opening your presents. She insisted you opened the first one.

"For you, my love," she said, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as she handed you the first of her presents, the smallest one. You inspected the envelope, not able to make much from it on first glance. It looked elegant, though, a golden glow coming from the paper. You carefully opened the envelope, revealing a light green card with pastel accents. You couldn't really figure out what it was just yet, but with a little nudging from your girlfriend in the right direction, your eyes lit up as it dawned on you. "You booked us a weekend away?"

Leah nodded, a soft hum leaving her lips. "I know you've been wanting to get away for a little while," she started, taking one of your hands in hers. "I've been busy. You've been busy. But we can take a couple days for ourselves and for us. It'll be nice." Leah had a tentative look on her face, her eyes scanning yours, as if she was gauging whether you were actually happy with this.

Leah was right. The two of you had been extremely busy lately – your girlfriend's football schedule ramping up, and it seemed like the winter months had brought an influx of people wanting to buy estate, leaving you with a tremendous amount of work that you more often than not also took home.

You quickly gave Leah a fierce nod after you realized you got caught up in your thoughts, leaning towards her and pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "Thank you, I love this. I love you. We need it. It'll be good," you mumbled against her lips, your hand cupping her cheek and giving her another peck before you pulled away.

"My turn," you said excitedly. You grabbed the smallest one, a square box delicately wrapped in an elegant-looking black wrapping paper with silver accents. "This looks neat," Leah chuckled, and you bit your lip in apprehension as you handed her your first present. Unlike you, Leah wasn't so delicate with unwrapping presents. She was all ripping and tearing, nothing graceful about her movements. She'd never been a patient one when it came to things like these, and in all fairness, you couldn't blame her. Forever a kid at heart, Leah loved presents.

You got pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a faint gasp escaping your lover's throat. You searched Leah's eyes for any emotion but you couldn't read it, your heart starting to beat a little faster. "Babe, this is...," Leah inspected her present a little closer, "this is gorgeous." She carefully lifted the golden watch out of it's holder and held it in the light, the timepiece brightly reflecting the cozy hue in your apartment.

You'd first gotten the idea when you noticed Leah was online shopping the other day, looking for a new watch. You knew she liked to have a couple, alternating between them based on what outfit she'd wear. She'd been speaking about a new golden one for a while now, the one she had had lasted its time and she wanted a new one. Ever the observer, you'd made a mental note. A perfect Christmas gift.

Leah sported a bright smile, her gaze now pointed towards you. "Thank you, I've been looking at getting a new one, this is perfect," Leah took your hand in hers and gave it an appreciative squeeze, putting the watch back in it's holder and carefully placing the box back on the coffee table. "You could wear it with the black suit you have for New Year's Eve, it'd look really good," you said softly, Leah replying with nothing more than a suggestive wink.

Your blonde lover reached back over to the presents, grabbing a little silver bag and handing it to you. "We're staying in theme," Leah chuckled. You raised your eyebrows at her before your fingers made quick work of untying the knot, revealing a fine, silver necklace with a little L on. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you took in your present, admiring the way it glistened. "I know this seems like I'm basically claiming you, but I wouldn't have bought you this if you hadn't told me about a million times that you wanted one of these."

You let out a breathy laugh, throwing your head back against the couch. "Just for the record, I have no problem with you claiming me." You locked eyes with your girlfriend and saw a little twinkle in hers, to which you surged forward and pressed a firm kiss against her lips. "Thank you. You wanna help putting it on?" Leah nodded eagerly and twisted her body towards yours, clasping the necklace around your neck. Her fingers ghosted over the L that now hung between your collarbones. She kissed your lips once more, lingering a little before she pulled away again and sat upright.

Your next present for Leah was something you knew she'd be over the moon with. Arsenal through and through, your girlfriend had been collecting vintage Arsenal kits ever since you remember. Signed, worn, match kits, training kits, your wardrobe was full with her Arsenal memorabilia. There was one missing though, Arsenal's home shirt from the 2005/06 season, their last year at Highbury. You stumbled across it on Vinted a couple months ago and couldn't believe that it hadn't been picked up yet. The shirt was in perfect state, Thierry Henry's name and number splayed out on the back of it. You paid no mind to the price and ordered it immediately, knowing just how happy your girlfriend would be with it.

You passed her your second present. She felt around a little. "It's definitely clothing." She fumbled around a bit longer with the wrapping paper, before you interrupted. "Le, baby, how about you just open it and see what's inside instead of guessing." Her cheeks blushed a faint red but she complied nonetheless, once again very ungracefully tearing away at the wrapping paper.

Leah's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she took sight of the burgundy shirt. You couldn't really tell with the lack of proper lighting in the room, but you swear you saw a couple unshed tears in her eyes. She quickly made work of the plastic layer around the shirt, holding it up in front of her. "Check the back," you said softly, reaching out towards your girlfriend and resting your hand on her leg that was slightly bouncing, testament to her excitement.

Leah turned the shirt around and you saw her smile growing impossibly bigger. "Babe, genuinely, what the fuck." You chuckled and shuffled closer to her, leaning your head on her shoulder and admiring the shirt along with her. "Nice one, eh?" Leah turned her face towards you and she cocked an eyebrow. "Nice? This isn't just 'nice', this is incredible," Leah scoffed. She turned the shirt back around, feeling the fabric, checking the label, as if she was still not sure whether this was real. "God, you've outdone yourself, y/n. I can't top this."

A smile tugged on the corners of your lips, pressing a soft kiss against Leah's cheek. "I knew you'd love it." Leah folded the shirt neatly and put it down on the coffee table next to the watch, turning her body towards yours. She cupped your cheeks and pressed a tender kiss against your lips, saying so much more than words could grasp. "You're amazing. I love you so much."

Leah pecked your lips another couple times before she retreated and set back against the armrest of the couch. "If I knew an Arsenal shirt was all it would take for you to be so expressive with you love, I wouldn't have waited this long," you said teasingly, earning a grunt and a playful swat at your thigh from your lover. "I am expressive with my love. Don't start on me!" A light giggle fell from your lips and waved away any further protest by grabbing Leah's hand and pressing a soft kiss against her palm. "You've got one more from me," Leah announced giddily, removing her hand from yours and grabbing the final present from the table. "This one's a bit more... sentimental."

You raised your eyebrows at your girlfriend, trying to read anything into her expression, but failing. "Sentimental...," you pried. "Yeah. Just open it. You'll see." You took the present from Leah's hands, the package laying relatively heavy in your hands. You carefully unwrapped it, each tear of the paper revealing a little more of Leah's final present. Eventually, you realized what it was. A handmade book of the last three years of your relationship. The book was littered with polaroids, screenshots of messages, souvenirs from places you went together, movie tickets, little notes you left for her to find on days you were out the country, and so many more. You could feel a stray tear making its way down your cheek as you scrolled your way through the book, catching it as quick as possible before it could fall on the paper and ruin anything. "Gosh, Leah,..." you mumbled, "sentimental is one way to put it, yeah," you said, muttering out the words past the obvious lump in your throat, sniffling a couple times as the memories unfolded underneath your fingers.

"You like it?" Leah's voice sounded small, and it almost agitated you, because you didn't even know how to begin voicing to her how much this meant to you. Leah wasn't one for the big romantic gestures, nor was she very showy with her affection, so for her to do something like this, to put so much time and effort into handcrafting this, it meant the world to you. You lifted your head and locked your gaze with your girlfriend's, a small frown etched between your eyebrows. "Le, please,..." you breathed, "do I like it?" You scoffed, and shook your head lightly at how ridiculous you found the question. "This means so much to me, Leah, you know that." You felt the blonde nudge a little closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder and looking at the polaroid your fingers seemed to linger on. "Remember that night?" she said softly, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder.

"Of course I do," you said matter-of-factly. It was a polaroid you'd taken on the first time Leah slept over at your apartment. You'd been over at hers plenty of times, but somehow her sleeping over at yours felt like a step up. She'd come over and brought your favorite Italian take-away. Initially you both insisted on cooking together, but a long day at respectively football and work lulled you both into the comfort of having a meal prepared for you. You lounged on the sofa for what felt like hours, talking about everything and nothing until you settled for watching a film wrapped in each other's embrace. Somewhere during the night, though, you felt like the air had shifted a little. Touches lingered a little longer, kisses were a little sloppier, leading to the first time you made love to one another later that night. It was messy, clumsy and very nervous, but it was perfect. Perfect, because it was yours.

The memories flooded your mind and you couldn't help the jolt of arousal that coursed through your body upon remembering the events of that night. You leaned your head against Leah's, pressing a kiss against her temple. "As much as I would love to look through all of this right now, I've got one last present for you," you said softly, coaxing her head off your shoulder, carefully closing the handmade book and placing it on the coffee table. You tried to ignore the little insecurity that crept underneath your skin when you thought about Leah's final present. Deep down, you knew she'd love it, but you always felt a little apprehensive about things like this. The lingerie was one thing, the lap dance you were planning on giving her a whole other. "Another one? But it's not on the table?" Leah's eyes scanned around the room, clearly confused as to where you could've hidden another present. "It's not there, Le," you chuckled at the expression on her face. "It's upstairs. You stay here, I'll be right back," you put a hand on her chest and gave her lips a chaste kiss, standing up from the couch and making your way up the stairs before she could quip back a response.

You thanked your former self for having already put on the lingerie before Leah came home this afternoon, one less thing to worry about now in your nervous state. You slipped off Leah's your hoodie and sweatpants you'd been wearing, your girlfriend insisting that she wanted you to spend tonight in cozy clothing. You braved a look at yourself in the full-length mirror in your bedroom, and you felt some of the insecurities melt away. You looked good. The lingerie hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all the curves you knew Leah loved so much. The longline bra was snug around your waist, the lace perfectly outlining the curve of your breasts. The thin red bottoms left little to the imagination, the waistband – accentuated with a little ribbon – just underneath your belly button. They gave prominence to your strong, tanned legs, likely your favorite thing about this set. You gave yourself an appreciative nod and pulled a robe out of your shared wardrobe, draping it over your half-naked body, giving Leah an extra layer to take off. You quickly decided to also pull a pair of red heels out of your wardrobe, putting them on and making your way out of the bedroom before you could doubt your choice of footwear. You stood at the edge of the stairs and took a steadying breath before you started making your way down. The clicking of your heels alerted Leah immediately, not able to delay her seeing you until you were downstairs.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in your outfit, and she put her phone down that she was mindlessly scrolling on to pass some time while you were upstairs. You could see a little glint in her eyes as you took the final step of the stairs, making your way back over to the couch at a tantalizingly slow pace. The air had most definitely shifted, Leah's intense gaze locking with yours as you slowed to a stop right in front of her. A smile tugged at your lips and you grabbed Leah's chin between your thumb and index finger, coaxing her face up towards yours and pressing a dizzying kiss against her lips. "I told you I had one final present," you mumbled against her mouth. "Why don't you discover what's underneath this robe?" You softly bit Leah's bottom lip as you let go of her lips, a lust-filled haze now clouding her eyes as she thought about what could be underneath the robe.

Leah's fingers made quick work of the knot tied around your waist, leaving the piece of clothing to fall to the ground, revealing your lingerie. "Oh," Leah's breath hitched in her throat and you would've grown insecure about her reaction if you hadn't seen the twinkle in her eyes. You were hit by a flurry of confidence and you twirled around, shaking your ass a little while your back was facing her before you turned back to face her. "Fuck, babe, this is..." Your girlfriend's words got caught in her throat as she let her eyes rake over your body once more, making sure she wasn't dreaming. You'd worn lingerie for her a couple times, after she had voiced how much she'd love it if you tried a couple sets. But never had it been a thing outside of the bedroom. You'd worn lingerie sets, worn sets underneath robes for her to discover, but it always happened in the comfort of your own bed. This, though, was a next step. A slight blush coated your cheeks as you felt Leah's intense gaze on you. She reached out one of her hands and looked up to you apprehensively, "Can I?" A smile tugged at your lips and you let out a light chuckle. "I'm all yours."

Leah's hands roamed all over your body, from your waist, to your thighs, to your lace-covered breasts, your calves, your ass, your girlfriend didn't leave a spot untouched. It wasn't long before her touches grew needy, and you put a hand against her chest to stop her, not wanting the rest of her surprise to get lost in her own excitement. "Le, wait," you said. Her eyes flicked up to yours, and you noticed how wide her pupils had gotten. A smirk made its way onto your face as to what would happen next. "You've been so good to me. Let me do this for you, okay?" You didn't await Leah's response. Instead you pulled Leah forward a little, and turned your body around, spreading your legs sitting yourself down on her lap. You couldn't ignore the doubts that crept in your mind about what you were doing, because you had never done anything like this. You'd sat on Leah's lap, plenty of times, but you'd never given her a lap dance. You did your research, naturally, you even watched a couple videos – although you had to click those off due to the abundance of secondhand embarrassment you experienced. Either way, you tried to calm your nerves by thinking how much Leah would love this, no matter how good you were at it. She never failed to voice her love for your bum.

Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you leaned your back against Leah's chest and gave a tentative roll of your hips against her lap. The slight hitch of your girlfriend's breath didn't go unnoticed to you and it gave you the fire in your belly to continue your ministrations. You started grinding your hips against hers in a steady but slow rhythm. You alternated between moves, gently bouncing up and down Leah's lap or popping your hips every now and then, every reaction you pulled out of your girlfriend fueling your confidence. You could sense Leah was a bit unsure as to what to do with her hands, but as the time went on and she felt herself getting more and more aroused, she started guiding your body along with her hands. She aided your movements, pushing you down against her hips, loving the way your behind brushed her core with every gyration of your hips.

A couple moments passed and an idea popped into your mind. You leaned back into your girlfriend, your head resting on her shoulder as you looked up towards her and your gazes locked, a small frown etched on your face that was driving Leah wild. You locked lips with her and you couldn't hold back the breathy moan that escaped your lips at the feeling of her mouth against yours. The kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, and it perfectly encapsulated the building pressure between the both of you. You tried moving your hips in an eight-figure, which pulled a groan from your girlfriend. "You're driving me crazy," Leah whispered into your ear, softly nipping at your earlobe as she kept her hands firmly on your waist.

You let out a breathy laugh that soon turned into a whimper as Leah's hands moved up towards your breasts, palming them and placing kisses against your back as you rolled your hips back into hers. One of your arms was placed on Leah's thighs, holding yourself up, and you threw the other around your girlfriend's neck, letting your nails rake over the skin on the back of her neck. Your moves grew frantic as you felt arousal building in your core, your gyrations less measured and less precise, the more Leah's hands started to wander all over your body. Any remnants of your earlier insecurity long washed away, you were more than pleased with how your final present for your girlfriend turned out. "God, Le, you feel so good," you breathed out as you let your head fall to her shoulder once again, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. A particularly harsh thrust of your hips against hers caused Leah to groan again, digging her fingers into your sides as she whispered in your ear.

"Bedroom. Now."

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Everything starts to get very real once you're able to feel the baby move. It's time to share the news of your second pregnancy with family and friends, but it's hard to feel elated when Bradley starts showing attention to one of his pilots after work hours.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, oral sex, pregnancy topics, mentions abortion, lactation kink, jealousy, drinking

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

If you weren't pregnant and exhausted, Bradley would have been concerned by how quiet you were. You seemed to need a nap as soon as you got home from work, and then you wanted to go to bed right after Rose went down in her crib each evening. When he got home quite late on Friday after working on some transfer paperwork for several hours, he was surprised to find that you seemed a little more upbeat than usual.

"Hey, Roo."

You were wearing a pair of his gym shorts while you made dinner. The house smelled delicious, and his stomach started growling as soon as he walked inside. He picked Rose up from her playmat, taking her into the kitchen as he smothered her in kisses before transferring them to you.

"You feeling okay? How's Nugget Part Deux?"

"We're exhausted. Rose is the only one with energy right now."

He supposed that was better than you telling him you couldn't stop throwing up. So far, baby number two seemed to be giving you less grief when it came to eating. "We can nap all weekend," he promised. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good," you told him with a shrug. "How was your day?"

He glanced out the back door at the enormous jungle gym, eyeing it up as an option for him and Rose to play after dinner. "Just busy. Everyone keeps me on my toes all day long. These pilots are really talented."

You seemed to wrinkle your nose at his words, staring at the food cooking on the stove as you muttered, "I'll bet they are."

Rose seemed keen on the idea of the backyard, so he kissed her soft cheek. "Yeah, I can barely keep up with them in the air, but don't tell them that. I've got my head on a swivel the whole time. Indigo and Rex nearly took me out today, and I had to go into a dive. And starting on Monday, I'm going to give myself some extra office hours to stay on top of my paperwork."

Instead of responding about his day, you started to dish out the food onto two plates with your back turned to him. "After we eat, I need to call my parents before it's too late. They're putting their house on the market next week, and I think I'm just going to tell them I'm pregnant and get it over with. I've put it off long enough."

Bradley's brow creased. "They'll be excited though. Right? I mean, maybe not as excited as me, but still excited."

You shrugged again, and he thought he might lose his mind if you kept doing it. "Aren't you at least a little worried there could be some sort of complications from having them so close together?"

A sardonic laugh almost burst from his lips. "Baby Girl, I worry about you and Rosie and the new baby constantly. Okay? Nonstop. But we can't go back now. You're already almost in the second trimester. Hey," he said, swallowing hard as you finally turned and looked at him. He held Rose just a little tighter as he whispered, "We're married. We're happy, right? You're not actually thinking about ending your pregnancy, are you?"

"No," you replied quickly, shaking your head. Bradley desperately wanted to know if there was some way he could make this easier for you, because he didn't want you to resent what was happening. But you just started crying as you shrugged again. "I just feel like our timing is terrible. And I know I have to start telling people, because I'm already showing a little bit, but I'm just so frustrated, Bradley."

He never dreamed the two of you would go from trying for months to get pregnant with Rose to being frustrated about a second pregnancy, but here you were. "I realize you've got to do most of the work right now, but when I tell you that I want another baby and that I'm excited about this, I mean it."

"I know!" you whispered quickly. "I know." You swiped at your tears before wrapping your arms around him and Rose.

"Is something else bothering you?" he murmured when your cheek came to rest on his bicep. He couldn't imagine what else could be the matter, but he needed to make sure. 

You were silent for a few beats before whispering, "I'm fine. Let's facetime my parents."

For how excited your mom was to move to California, she didn't seem to notice that your eyes looked like you'd been crying. She kept talking about selling their furniture and packing everything up. She mentioned how much she wanted to see Rose in person as she fussed over her on the video call. Just as she was starting to discuss their new house in Coronado that would make them his neighbors, Bradley heard you blurt out, "I'm pregnant."

Your parents both looked stunned on the other end of the call. "You're pregnant," your mom said, eyes drifting back to Rose in Bradley's arms. "Already?"

Now both parents were staring at Bradley as he said, "Yeah... due in April."

"April Fool's Day," you said softly.

Your parents broke out into twin grins. "I'm assuming this was a surprise to the two of you?" your dad asked. When you nodded silently, he added, "A happy surprise at least! Congratulations. You're about to have your hands very full."

"It's a good thing we're moving!" your mom practically shrieked. "Two under two! Two babies! What if you have twins?"

"We're not," Bradley replied. Then he froze. "It's not twins. Right, Sweetheart?" Now he was a little scared as you turned to look at him and laugh.

"There was just one heartbeat, Roo. Just one."

His shoulders sagged in relief. "I mean, the more the merrier, but that would be a lot."

He let Rose nap against his chest while he rubbed circles against your lower back, and soon enough, your parents were ending the call with the promise that they would be in Coronado for Christmas. "We'll either be living there by then or we'll fly out for the holiday if our house here hasn't sold yet."

Everything sounded good to Bradley, and five minutes after the call ended, you fell asleep on him, too.

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

When you fell asleep on Cam's shoulder at brunch on Sunday, you figured it was time to tell him and Maria what was going on.

"I'm pregnant. Again."

Maria jumped out of her seat to cram into the opposite of the booth, sandwiching you between her and Cam. "Damn, girl! You've wasted no time!"

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache is working with some high fucking quality goods, huh?" Cam marveled, shaking his head slowly in reverence. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," you whispered, voice harsh and near tears. You had no control over your emotions. This was just like when you were pregnant with Rose, but with less vomiting and more fatigue. Everything made you upset enough that you wanted to cry or angry enough that you wanted to kick down a door. Including your husband.

You answered Cam and Maria's questions as you thought about that woman you'd seen around base with Bradley a few times. They were never alone, always part of a larger group, but you didn't like how she looked at him. And you didn't want to mention it to him, because you knew how ridiculous it was going to sound.

"Hey, I'm really tired," you eventually told your friends. "Do this again in two weeks?" You wanted to go home and nap while Bradley still had Rose out for a walk along the beach. You just wanted to be alone.

"Of course," Maria promised. "I'll text Bob to come pick me up, but you two can go on ahead."

"I'll wait with you," Cam told her, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You made your way out and went home, leaning against the front door in relief when you found the house completely empty. Even Tramp and his yellow leash were gone. You ran to bed, curled up under the covers, and cradled your hand against your belly. It was impossible to tell if you had a baby bump, or if you were still chubby from last time. 

Your thumb ran along the top of your leggings as you started to cry. You needed to pull yourself together. Did you cry this much with Rose? Did everything make you feel like you looked disgusting? Eventually you dozed for about an hour before the sound of the front door closing jolted you awake. Rose started screaming, probably hungry after being out for so long. You rolled out of bed, avoiding your reflection in the mirror at all costs, and went to meet them in the kitchen.

Bradley was trying to bounce Rose to keep her quiet, but you yanked your shirt off and reached for her. "Sorry," he muttered as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as she was touching you. "I tried."

"It's okay." 

You fed one baby while you considered that her younger sibling was growing inside you, and for once, you couldn't figure out if you wanted to laugh or cry. 

While she ate, Bradley looked at his phone and groaned. "Nat wants us to go to the Hard Deck tonight."

The idea of going out and pretending that you were drinking alcohol was too much to handle. Even if you could find someone to watch Rose, it didn't sound like a fun time.

"You go," you told him.

He glanced up and said, "I don't want to go without you."

A smile graced your lips as you told him, "Just go for one drink with your best friend. I'll drop you off and pick you up. You can tell her I'm pregnant if you want to."

"Really?" he asked, perking up like Tramp did when presented with a treat.

"Yeah. I told Maria and Cam earlier. I actually fell asleep on his shoulder in the booth, and when I woke up, they were both gaping at me. I figured I needed to say something."

Bradley snorted. "What did they have to say about Bradshaw Baby number two?"

"Cam is under the impression that you are working with some high quality equipment."

He burst into laughter. "I mean..."

You rolled your eyes as Rose switched to your other side. It was easy to feel better about things when it was just the three of you at home. You looked at your husband as he ate an apple in four bites and convinced yourself he would never do anything to hurt you. Then he drank half a beer and belched while he adjusted his junk, and you thought perhaps nobody else would want to deal with him anyway.

"I'll text Nat back. Then I'll pull the weeds around the playset while I decide what I'm doing about the bar."

You let Rose take a nap, but now that you'd also had one, you felt a little restless. Even after you did a few chores, including looking at items for a second baby nursery online, you wanted to get out of the house again. When Bradley came inside, stripping his sweaty shirt over his head, he said, "One drink. Don't leave me there too long, okay?"

"Is Jake going, too? Maybe I'll see if Cat and Jer are home and want visitors."

"That's a great idea," he replied, taking your hand when he walked past. When he gave you a little tug, you didn't move. "You coming?" he asked, clearly puzzled. 

"Where?"

"What do you mean where?" he scoffed, tugging again. "To take a shower with me while Rose naps. Where else?"

It was hard to think about anything when your husband was on his knees in front of you, steamy water swirling around his tattooed bicep while his hands pinned you to the tile wall. But it was especially hard to focus on anything other than the feel of his mouth on your body. The scrape of his mustache. The pull of his lips. Soft and demanding and needy.

"Roo," you gasped, lungs full of the humid air, sucking in deep breaths as he looked up at you.

"God, Baby Girl," he rasped, thumb teasing your dainty rooster tattoo. "I'm so spoiled. Your tits look so pretty, and your belly will be big again soon."

You let your fingers drag through his wet curls, pushing them back from his forehead while he kissed the spot where you felt so tender as the baby grew.

"Roo!" you gasped, your hands both flying to your belly. "The baby! I can feel the baby moving!"

"Shit, really?"

His eyes were wide, alert with anticipation as you moved his palm to the spot where you could feel squirming. He eased himself closer on his knees, the shower hitting both of you with warm spray while he let you guide him. You felt it again, just another squirm as you pressed his palm harder to your belly.

"Right there," you whispered, and he closed his eyes. Your heart beat in your ears, an undeniably excited rhythm.

"I can't wait to feel it, too," he murmured, his cheek coming to rest against his hand. "You couldn't feel Rose this early."

"No," you agreed, watching your husband fall even more in love with the unborn baby. "Maybe another week or two and they'll be big enough for you to feel it." You played with his hair, letting him stay put until the water started to get cold.

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

"I'll pick you up in a little while," you informed Bradley when you pulled into the parking lot at the Hard Deck. "Jake is already here, so I'll take Rose to hang out with Cat and Jer for a bit."

"Sounds good." He kissed you before unbuckling and leaning into the backseat to kiss his daughter. He was still shocked and in a mild daze over the baby moving during the shower. He wanted to feel those kicks against his palm, and now he'd be all over you in the upcoming weeks, looking for his chance. 

"Have fun," you called before pulling away in your Bronco, but going to the bar to hang out without you was not his idea of a great night. He decided he'd just wait and see how the evening progressed before making a decision about telling Nat about the pregnancy. He smiled as he wondered how long it would be until you had to start wearing the maternity tent to work again.

"There you are!" shouted Nat when he walked past the bar, waving to Penny. "We're about to play pairs. You're with Hangman. Rack 'em, Rooster."

Bradley sighed and took the pool cue as she thrust it into his hand. "Can't I get a beer first?"

She turned and shouted, "Hey, Coyote! Get Rooster one!"

Javy saluted him from the bar as Bradley nodded and settled in to start the game. He and Jake wouldn't even have to try too hard to beat Nat and Reuben, but as he got into the groove of things, he realized he was having a pretty good time.

"You want another?" Jake asked him, and soon one beer turned into three. Bradley ended up buying the fourth round for his friends when Mickey arrived. He had enough in his system to not give a shit when Jake started ribbing on him for his new position at work.

"The way your students all jump to attention when they see you has got to be the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life," he drawled, and Bradley nudged his foot, making him miss his shot.

"I'm still in shock that Cat agreed to marry you," Bradley replied before taking a sip of beer.

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised Angel let you get her pregnant. Shocked the baby didn't come out with a mustache."

Nat was cackling while Bradley snorted. "She's pregnant again." The words slipped out, but they felt too fucking good on his tongue, just like your body had in the shower.

"What?!"

He was instantly surrounded by his friends while Nat wrapped him up in a hug. "Are you serious? Another one so soon?" she asked with a suspicious looking smirk.

"Yeah," he replied, letting her squeeze him until he thought she might displace a rib. "Apparently I'm working with some high quality equipment."

"Ew!" Nat shrieked, letting go of him while Jake shook his hand. 

"Poor Angel," he drawled. "She'll have another little Bradshaw on the loose soon."

"Whiskey shots on me," Reuben said, slapping Bradley hard on the back.

"Thanks, man," he replied while conversation about the baby settled to a normal volume. He drank his shot of whiskey, and that's when he realized he was actually kind of drunk.

The game of pool wore on, but nobody seemed to be keeping track of who won. So he kept going until his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I'm almost there. Rose fell asleep.

"I have to run," Bradley announced, dropping his cue into Jake's hand. 

"You're so fucking whipped," Jake drawled. "Get out of here and knock your wife up again.... oh, wait."

Bradley gave him and everyone else double middle fingers behind his back as he walked toward the exit. He was tired and warm and buzzed, and he wanted to curl up next to you in bed and kiss the back of your neck. And maybe you'd let him look at your gorgeous tits. Maybe if he was really good, you'd let him taste you. The evening air hit his body, igniting so much need in him.

"Oh, sorry," he grunted, nearly plowing over someone in his rush to get to the parking lot.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," came a now familiar voice. Blue eyes flashed up at him along with a smile that kept growing.

Indigo was dressed in street clothes, but he tried not to take notice as he nodded. "I knew you'd find The Hard Deck without my help."

She laughed, bright and clear as he tried to step past her. "Don't tell me you're leaving for the night."

A little pout found her lips, and Bradley nodded. "Yeah. It's getting late for a Sunday."

"Come on," she whined, the back of her hand brushing his as he made his way around her. "Let me buy you one drink."

His mind was still gooey with thoughts of taking you to bed as he shook his head. "Thanks, but I really need to go. Enjoy your night."

Then Nat burst through the door, movements slowing when she met his eyes. "You left your phone on the pool table." She tossed it to him, coordination pretty good for how much she'd had to drink. She started backing up toward the door as she said, "You better go home with your pregnant wife!"

Bradley smiled at his friend, but he could feel Indigo's eyes on him as he stepped off the deck toward the parking lot. And there you were, standing in the first aisle with your back against the red Bronco. Your lips were set in a firm line, and Bradley was about to make it his personal mission to kiss away that expression.

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

That younger woman was here with him. You'd seen her around base plenty of times lately, but now she was here. At the Hard Deck. At your favorite bar in your neighborhood. She was with your husband at the bar. They were already standing there together when you drove up and parked.

"Who is that woman?" you snapped at Bradley who was clearly drunk. His hands were all over your waist and hips as soon as he reached you.

"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice was deep and sexy, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into him, but she was still staring you down.

"Who. Is. She?" you hissed, your eyes starting to burn with unshed tears as you stared back. Bradley was kissing your neck now as the woman finally turned and went inside the bar. You already knew who she was. You were sure of it. You'd heard him use her call sign countless times, but you wanted him to say it now. "Bradley!"

"Huh?" he grunted, meeting your eyes.

"Who is that woman you were just with?"

"Natasha?" he asked, and you wanted to scream.

"The other woman, Bradley."

"Oh. That's Indigo."

Your heart sank as soon as he confirmed it for you, but he didn't seem to notice or care that you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire. That woman who was still so fresh out of flight school was already a top pilot, and she was beautiful, and she wanted your husband.

"Baby Girl," he moaned next to your ear. "Let's go home. Maybe we can get in bed and snuggle while I try to feel the baby move? Or you could let me finish what we started in the shower? I'm already so wound up."

You opened the passenger side door for him, slamming it shut as soon as he was inside. You glared at the entrance to the Hard Deck before heading around the Bronco to drive him home.

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

Either way, it still looks bad, Bradley. We are riding along with all of BG's emotions, and it's a lot to handle. Thanks for reading. More coming soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[miabebe]

Camp Seventeen: Chapter 4

Pairing - Afab!reader x ot13

Word count - 17.5K

Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve got crack, smut, fluff , angst, hurt, comfort, all of it in this series, buckle up! Warnings below the cut

Previous chapter

Chapter summary - As many truths come forth, life on camp as you know it begins to change. After living a life which was never your choice, you now had to choose between family and love. But more importantly, would they choose you?

A/n - I do have a taglist so comment on this post to be added! This is yet another heavy chapter, I tried to put as much as I could to make up for all the time this took :( I'm so sorry and I hope you have fun reading <3

Thanks again to the loml @monamipencil for all the time she so sweetly takes out for me T.T

Warnings - as usual, to be added after a week.

“Please….” 

It was the only thing ringing in your head, your fingers tightening their grip in Seungcheol’s dark mane as his mouth refused to leave yours, like it was the only thing keeping him alive. 

Why now? What changed? 

The thought ran in the back of your mind as Seungcheol let out a soft groan, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he pulled back just a little, just enough to breathe but you lurched for his mouth again. It didn’t matter why, all that mattered was that this was finally happening and you didn’t want it to stop. 

Mirroring your desperation, he sat you on the hood of his car, freeing his hands to push the hair away from your face and hold it surprisingly delicately, like he couldn’t believe he was really kissing you. It felt like he was conflicted between wanting to look at you and wanting to devour you but when you wrapped your legs around his waist, he chose the latter. 

At least it seemed like it until your hand slipped between your bodies, reaching for the button of his pants and Seungcheol pulled back with a jerk, like he had been electrocuted. 

“Oh…” You drew your hands back quickly. “I thought you wanted to….” 

“I uh…” He looked around, pushing his hair back. “Y/n, we are out in the open…” 

Yeah but in the middle of fucking nowhere, with not a soul in sight. 

But of course. 

It wasn’t the location that was the problem, it was him. You should have seen this coming, you should have known that with every step Seungcheol took forward, he took two back. 

Scoffing, you slid off the car, tucking your hair behind your ears, trying not to let how disappointed you were show on your face. Seungcheol glanced at you, gulping audibly. 

“Y/n I…” 

“I don’t even know why I keep falling for this-” 

“Please…” 

“What does that word even mean anymore Seungcheol?” You raised your hands in defeat, ready to walk away. “I don’t want to know, I don’t want to hear it-”

Grabbing the back of your neck, Seungcheol pulled you up against him again, mouth hot on yours. When you tried to push him away, he didn’t let go, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing in all that tension between the two of you. 

“Let me go.” You tried to free yourself. “Choi Seungcheol-” 

“I don’t think you can even begin to fathom just how much I want you…. how much I want this.” He groaned. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to hold you like this.” 

You frowned, pulling back. “Why, because of the force field?” 

Seungcheol shook his head, “No- I mean yeah, that was one reason, I still don’t know you’re unaffected but thank heavens-” He looked at you intently. “- staying away from you has been excruciatingly painful.” 

“Then why?” You wrapped your hands around his wrists, hoping he wouldn’t let go like always. “Why are you staying away from me Cheol? Why can’t we-” 

“Do you want this?” He whispered like he was unsure and you blinked at him, just a little surprised. “Right here, right now, do you-” 

“Choi Seungcheol, for a man this big, your brain really is the size of a pea.” Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. “I’ve wanted this since the moment I set foot in camp and my eyes on you-” 

“Then fuck everything else,” With a swift movement he spun you around, the shriek of surprise lost in your throat, your palms finding the hood of the car. Seungcheol did not wait for you to even process what was happening - pushing your hair over your shoulder, his hands quickly worked the strings of your armor behind, mouth by your ear. “I want you and I don’t care who’s watching.” 

Before you can ask him who the fuck could possibly be watching the two of you, he let out what seemed to be a frustrated groan at the complexity of the lace. You were just about to undo it yourself when he reached for the dagger strapped to your waist and with a swift movement, ran it across the strings, slicing them open. 

“Cheol what-” You whined. “How am I supposed to wear this again?” 

“Armour is for protection.” He slid the bronze plates off your torso, dropping them to the ground as you turned to face him again. “And that’s what I’m here for. I got you.” 

Grinning, you grabbed its twin blade and mirrored his actions, undoing the knotted strings on his shoulders, freeing him of his gear. Taking a momentary step back, the two of you quickly got rid of the various metallic appendages and weapons lodged everywhere, dropping them onto the forest floor and you were barely done when Seungcheol pulled you towards him, kissing you again. 

It was different now, slower, deeper, more relieved but somehow more electrifying - you could feel your boobs up against the hard muscles of his chest, his fingers found the sliver of skin between your top and pants, pressing into it and your hands gripped around his biceps, nails digging in.

For some reason you suddenly realised, that though in the last 3 days you had been with 3 different men, Seungcheol was the first one that it genuinely felt intimate with, the first one you had even kissed, nevermind with such passion. And god did you want to keep kissing him but the memory of Dionysus's dildo ran in your mind and hell could empty all its devils here and you wouldn't care. You just wanted him deep inside you. 

This time, when your hand found the button of his pants again, Seungcheol didn’t stop you, moaning into your mouth instead. Just as you unzipped it, he quickly slid them off, the fabric pooling at his feet and your hands moved to their next target, his shirt. 

“Wanna see you too.” He kissed you along your jawline, playing with the hem of your shirt. 

You laughed softly, working the buttons, “Then take it off.” 

“Then I'll have to stop this.” He continued the trail of kisses down to your neck. “And I don't want to.” 

Smiling to yourself you undid the last button, pushing the fabric aside, thanking the universe that today Seungcheol went commando in his pants. As his lips found your shoulder, your eyes caught Seungcheol’s dick, already familiar with exactly how it looked but the real one was so much better. He was unbearably hard, hissing when you wrapped your hand around the base.

“Better than you imagined?” He sounded cocky when you began stroking his length, letting out a soft sigh. 

“What makes you think I imagined it?”  

Seungcheol chuckled. “Baby, there's only a wall between our rooms which mind you, is really thin. I've heard you take my name before.”

You froze as his hands gripped your waist tighter. 

“Faster cheol, harder cheol, Right there cheol…. I heard it all.” 

Okay yeah, there were days you had indeed slid your fingers in and out, imagining it was him ravaging you but why didn't your stupid ass ever doubt if he could hear it??

‘You sounded like I was doing a good job.” He smiled against your skin. 

“You mean I was doing a job.” 

Getting yourself off was not new to you. You didn't really have any boyfriends but the handful of people you had slept with in your life were disappointing to say the least, devastatingly incapable of making you feel any pleasure. Of course after Soonyoung revealed that demigods could not be satisfied by mortals, it made sense why your own hands and toys were the only ones that could make you cum. You had to admit though, getting off to the thought of Seungcheol fucking you into his large white bed gave you some of the best orgasms you ever had. He didn't need to know that. The way he was smiling at the memory of you moaning his name had inflated his ego enough. 

“Oh you were doing a good job?” He detached his mouth from you at last, drawing back, eyes scouring your face. “Why don't you let me see this time?” 

As he kicked his pants off and took a step back then another, you looked at him in disbelief. 

“You want me to imagine you fucking me when you're standing right in front of me-” You ran your eyes down his body covered only by his shirt hanging off his shoulders. “-looking like that?” 

Seungcheol nodded. “Lean against the car and spread your legs for me baby.” 

“Cheol-” 

“Do it Y/n.”

“But-”

“That's a command soldier.’ 

This asshole. Of course Choi Seungcheol made use of hierarchy during sex. 

“Yes Chief.” 

Rolling your eyes you pulled your pants down your legs, tossing them to join your gear on the forest floor. Your panties were slick with arousal, uncomfortably sticking to you, the dark wet spot only getting larger. Eyes flickering down between your legs, Seungcheol clasped his hands behind his back standing at ease, the way he did when he oversaw morning training. 

“So you're just going to watch?” You licked your drying lips. “Are you not even going to touch yourself?” 

If you did, it was only fair that he did too.

But Seungcheol shook his head. “I'm yours to do whatever.” 

God did you want to throw your arms around him and pull him into another kiss but he seemed so damn insistent that you put on a show. Fine, if that's what he wants, you'll give it to him. 

You ran your fingers over your wet panties, sighing at the way a sudden jolt ran down your body when they grazed your clit. You were only just about to push the fabric to the side and slide your fingers into your pretty wet hole when you felt a familiar twist in the pits of your stomach. Surprised, you found yourself almost buckling forward, hands quickly gripped the car behind you trying to find balance as the coil tightened, building the feeling inside. Legs shaking, you attempted to squeeze them and chase the feeling when in a flash Seungcheol was inches away from you, his hand holding your legs apart, shaking his head. 

Shutting your eyes, you threw your head back, your entire being almost convulsing as your organsm hit you hard and you came with a not so soft moan. 

As you tried to catch the breath you hadn't taken all this while, Seungcheol leaned closed, whispering in your ear. 

“Still think it was you who did a good job?” 

Eyes widening, you looked at him, lips parted in shock. 

“You mean that was… that you…” 

Seungcheol chuckled, moving his hand closer to your core, letting his fingers graze your even more wet panties. 

“An orgasm is caused by nerves and nerves carry electric impulses.” Given your frown, he continued. “I'm the Son of Zeus, anything with electric tendencies is under my control.” 

That meant all those days, sitting on the other side of the wall, Seungcheol had made you cum untouched. 

‘Did that feel good?” He whispered as your breath slowly came back to normal, his hand pushing the fabric of your underwear, his finger running between your folds, feeling how wet you were. “Looks like it did.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“Now it's my turn.” And without a warning, he slipped two fingers into your hole, as your hands flew to grip his biceps. “but I'll need to prep you first baby.”

Oh you knew.

While his fingers pumped in and out of you, you pulled Seungcheol closer by the collar of his shirt, kissing him, hands trailing up into his thick hair. You didn't know obscenely kissing someone like this out in the open while his fingers stretched you open could feel this arousing. You didn't think it could get any better until Seungcheol broke away, whispering into your ear, “I'm going to fuck you now.”

A shudder ran down your body and a shriek left your mouth as Seungcheol spun you around once again, your palms finding the hood of the car the balance over but this time, you could feel his erection against your ass. Wasting no time, he lined his tip against your hole, slowly sinking in, both of your moans matching with the same relief, the same arousal. Choi Seungcheol was fucking you at last. 

Pushing all the way till the hilt, Seungcheol pulled back, gripping your wrist tight but thrusting into you slowly. You couldn't tell if he was being gentle or savoring it - you just needed him up in your guts. 

“Cheol.” You breathed, making him lean over to hear you. “Didn't you hear me in your house? I like hard and fast.” 

Chuckling, Seungcheol picked up the pace, snapping his hip into yours, the impact surely bruising where your skin grazed the car. You could tell he was still controlling himself, holding back like he was afraid of breaking you. 

“And rough.” You added and that seemed to do the trick. 

Letting out a groan, his hand immediately found the nape of your neck, pushing you down onto the hood, devoid of all the prior gentleness. Despite your whole upper body being pressed against cold metal, you smiled to yourself and as if he could not get enough, Seungcheol gathered both your wrists with his free hand and pinned them to your lower back, fucking you like an animal in the jungle. 

Hell yes. God yes you wanted this and the way he felt was so much better than you thought, his dick eventually finding all the right spots, making you feel so full of him. Oh you couldn't wait to have him fill you but before that, you felt your orgasm approaching, everything in your stomach tightening again. 

“Fuck, I'm….” You struggled to speak with the way your cheek was pressed against the hood. “I…”

Sliding his hand from the nape to wrap your neck, Seungcheol pulled you back up against him, hips not stopping their thrusts even for a moment. 

“What is it baby? Gonna cum for me?” 

You nodded, feeling your walls fluttering around his length, hands desperately trying to hold on to anything.

“Good girl.” He whispered, bringing the hand on your waist to your clit and almost instantly you could feel yourself coming, tightening around him like a vice. 

“That's it.” Seungcheol groaned, slowing down his pace as your walls clamped around him. “That's it baby, you did so good.” 

“Cheol….” You whispered, finding your breath again, barely down from your high, legs still trembling. “I wanna feel full of you.” 

Clearly he was just as desperate to come inside you because all of a sudden, the man who seemed like he had unending stamina was losing his rhythm. You tightened your walls around him, squeezing his length when it was deep inside you, arching your back to help him reach further in. He had just about given you what you were dying to have when out of no fucking where, you heard Jeonghan saying Seungcheol’s name. 

The latter instantly halted his actions, looking around just as panicked as you until the call of his name again made him realise where it was coming from. The looking glass. 

Whispering a sorry against your ear, Seungcheol pulled out slowly, leaving you unclenching around  nothing as you felt your arousal leak down your thigh filthily. 

What the hell?? 

Seungcheol rummaged through the discarded gear, pulling his looking glass, being careful to show only his face given neck down, he was an absolute mess. 

“Han.” 

“Cheol, what's your status quo?”

Groaning you pulled your panties back into place. Evidently this was not going to be a short conversation.

“We uh, just reached the forest.” 

“Just? Shouldn't you have reached an hour ago?” 

Seungcheol looked at you guiltily but continued nevertheless. “Y/n messed up reading the map so we had to take a longer route.” 

You raised your eyebrows. Oh, he was playing dirty. Then you could too. 

Walking up to him, you dropped to your knees, taking Seungcheol’s pretty cock in your hands, his eyes widening. On the other hand Jeonghan, oblivious to it all, went on. 

“Okay, Jihoon and Hansol scoured their woods already, there's no traces of the monster there. Negative for Joshua and I too. We haven't heard from Seokmin and Chan though, I assume Min's pegasus is giving him a tough time. What about you?” 

You had no idea if Seungcheol was listening to him or pretending to, because all this while, you had been very silently and very skillfully,  sucking his dick. 

“Cheol?” 

“Yeah.” He tore his eyes away from you with much difficulty, turning to his friend. “I uh… I don't know yet, I mean, we haven't tried to track it yet, w-we just r-reached.” 

You smiled at his stuttering words, knowing he was close. 

“Okay but be careful. My gut feeling is that it's in the Nyx forest. What better place for a monster to thrive right?” 

“Fuck-” Cheol muttered as your teeth grazed him accidently, as you quickly pulled back, looking apologetic. 

“Cheol, is everything okay?” 

“Yeah just Y/n ....almost fell.” He gulped, turning to Jeonghan. “Yeah I got it, we'll be careful and I'll let you know if there's any developments.” 

“Alright and-” 

Before he could complete, Seungcheol tossed the glass onto the gear pile and gripped your chin, holding it as he pushed his length further into your mouth. 

“What a brat.” He groaned, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. “What if Jeonghan found out?”

You couldn't care less. All you cared about was how deep could you possibly take Seungcheol, relaxing your throat as he pushed in. 

“F-fuck.” He muttered, quickly pulling out, jerking off his length. “Open wide.” 

And you did, sticking your tongue out just in time to feel spurts of his cum coat it messily, spilling onto your lips and out of the corner of your mouth. 

Without waiting for you to swallow, Seungcheol pulled you up to your feet, kissing you again, unbothered about tasting himself. 

“I'll get you some water.” He dropped a kiss on your forehead before quickly going to the car and reaching for the bottle. As you drank, mouth and throat dry and sore, Seungcheol hurriedly began buttoning his shirt again. 

Wait, that's it? 

“Cheol.” He glanced at you questioningly. “What are you…” 

“Jeonghan thinks the Chimaera is most definitely here.” He held your pants out by your feet, prompting you to put your feet in. You complied, still confused. “We should try to track it as soon as possible.” 

“Seungcheol we just….” You sighed, dropping the bottle on the forest floor. “We just had sex after days of behaving like we cannot bear each other, don't you think we need to talk?” 

“We do.” He nodded seriously, doing your button. “And we will. Just not now, at the right time-” 

“What right time?!” You stepped away from him, anger coursing through you. “After leaving me confused for days, after fucking me in the middle of nowhere, you don't think I deserve an explanation?” 

“You do Y/n and I will tell you everything but we just need to find the monster first. It's dangerous-” 

“Did you not realise that when you had your dick inside me??” You looked at him incredulously. “How is that we had the time to have sex, but not to have a discussion-”

“Enough.” Seungcheol’s voice was hard and urgent. ‘I cannot keep repeating the same thing again Y/n. Yes, you deserve an explanation and yes we will talk, just. not. now. Now, we need to find the monster.” 

“But Cheol-” 

“Y/n stop.”

“I just want to-” 

“That's a command, soldier.” 

Taken aback you blinked at him, processing his words.  

“Yes chief.” 

And with that you turned and walked away into the woods, ignoring his voice calling out to you and letting the darkness of the forest consume you.

You had no idea how long or how deep into the forest you had ventured - you just needed to get away from Seungcheol as soon as possible. You knew he would have followed if he had managed to get his pants on in time but you had disappeared into the darkness before he could. In hindsight maybe that wasn't the best idea because the forest was barely visible despite your extremely sharp eyesight, and though you had your energy reader on you, hanging around your neck, you couldn't use it. You didn't feel warmth. 

“This isn't the kind of forest you roam alone in, sweet summer child.”

Holding back a shriek you turned around, shocked by a presence in this dark forest. All you could see was the silhouette of a tall lanky man, leaning against the thick trunk of a tree, only half his face illuminated by the small fire burning by his feet. His features looked royal, as though even without the light, he'd still shine all the same. You couldn’t see his eyes though - they were hidden behind black sunglasses which seemed rather unnecessary given the surroundings. The theme of black continued in his attire - a soft black fur jacket thrown over a black shirt and black slacks, accents of white, green and gold, littered all over. The most noticeable thing about him was perhaps his hair - streaks of red and grey in spiky black hair. Strangely he looked both old and young at the same time, almost timeless. 

“You’re alone.” You pointed out. 

“I’m an adult.”

“More like ancient.” You muttered to yourself but the man seemed to have heard it somehow. 

“Ancient?” He chuckled. “I suppose I should be offended but that's an understatement.” 

You frowned, not quite understanding. 

“Don't rack your brain sweetheart. I've already figured out that you're not too bright considering, you know, the little show you put up earlier.”

You felt your jaw hang, cheeks burning up. What the fuck- 

“And before you ask, ew no, I wasn't watching - I'd rather burn in Tartarus than watch that tragedy.” He rolled his eyes, looking disgusted. “But this is Nyx's forest and everything here talks….”

A whole damn forest was watching you and Seungcheol have sex?? You wanted to throw up, throw a fit and throw something at this man, all at once. Overwhelmed by everything, you held your head, trying to sort out the overload of information.

“First of all, who the hell are you…..” 

“Goodness be damned, you're really dumber than I thought.” He walked up, closer to the fire, his features much more clear in the light. “I’m what you’re looking for.” 

You looked him up and down. 

“I’m not looking for a boomer with a fashion crisis.” 

The man burst out laughing, looking away, shoulders shaking. “You’re funny darling, not everyone can joke in the face of danger.” 

“I’m not joking.” You rolled your eyes. “And clearly, you’re not dangerous. If you were, you wouldn’t be wasting your time with a conversation, darling.” 

He smiled. 

“The conversation is courtesy of the fact that you are also what I am looking for.” Taking a step forward, he inched closer. “I'm Chimaera.” 

You blinked at him once. 

Then twice.

Then snickered. 

What bullshit. 

You had read up about the monster on your way here - it was supposedly a weird mix of a lion, a goat and a snake that also happened to breathe fire. This… this was a man? And a man who was clearly fooling you for whatever reason.

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “Then I'm actually Zeus, King of the Gods-”

“I forget how little you know about this world sweetheart.” He scoffed, taking the glasses off and tucking them inside his jacket. 

You felt your whole body freeze. His eyes….they had slits, like a snake. 

“Did you really think I could live amongst mortals looking like a genetic experiment gone catastrophically wrong? Obviously I have a human form.” 

You hesitated, gulping, realising that regardless of whether this man was indeed the Chimaera, you, like an idiot, were both unarmed and unprotected. 

“What? Still don’t believe me?” He cocked his head. “Oh sweetheart.” 

He waved his hand and the flames of the campfire rose, dancing and wrapping around him. You watched as he smiled at you, the fire not leaving a single mark on his skin, as though it didn’t burn him at all. Finally, the glowing bright orange ran up his neck and disappeared into his mouth. 

The fire breather. You took a step back and then another. Fuck, fuck, fuck- 

“Don't tell me you're also stupid enough to run.” He clicked his tongue. “You may be powerful but you’re no match for me. Besides,” He walked up, taking the help of a dapper looking walking stick that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “I only want to talk.” 

“W-with me?” You stuttered. “About what?” 

“Do you really not know?” 

You did. A tiny voice in your head spoke for you - Fire. 

Your fire. He knew about it. 

“How do you know?” 

“Why wouldn’t I know darling?” He smiled at you in a way that was both sweet and sinister. “Daddy knows everything.” 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“That didn’t come out right.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as you looked at him with a mix of confusion, fear and disgust. “What I meant is, I know your fire because it’s mine Y/n….. I’m your father.”

Somewhere far off, thunder rumbled across the sky, filling the silence. There was a storm coming but it was no match for the one already going on inside you. The time for humour was over.

You had already been on the edge of tolerance with Hestia ignoring you all these days and now, to hear such a vile joke about your parentage from a monster was just plain evil. You knew Jeonghan said you weren’t to face the creature on your own but god were you ready to annihilate it. 

“Shut up.” You spoke between gritted teeth. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do but-” 

“You don’t believe me.” The Chimaera chuckled. “Sit down Y/n, you are in terrible need of a crash course.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Sit.” 

“No.” You crossed your arms, repeating your question. “What, do you mean?” 

The man sighed, leaning against a nearby tree. 

“Did you think gods are the only ones who can mate with mortals?” He shook his head. “Monsters can too, darling. In fact, most mortals are our children.” 

You felt a chill run down your spine. 

“Of course unlike you god spawn they don’t carry our powers but our nature? Oh the desire to wreak havoc, to cause chaos, they do inherit that. Every thief, every killer, every arsonist,” He smiled at you but it didn’t reach his eyes. “They’re all our offspring.” 

The flames of the campfire rose higher, burning brighter, drawing out a memory you had been trying your best to forget. 

“I cannot be your child.” You muttered, heart racing in your chest. “That’s not possible…” 

“Is it that difficult to believe?” He raised an eyebrow. “You could always tell you were different. You never felt like you belonged. Your powers, they’re unlike the others, so brilliant.” His eyes gleamed. “It’s because you’re mine.” 

You felt your guts twist. A half monster. That’s what he was calling you. 

“Look at us Y/n.” He stuck his hand out, the flames coming to life in his hand. “Look at me and tell me we aren’t the same-” 

“No we’re not.” You looked at him defiantly. “I may be hostile and unwelcoming and guarded and a lot of other things but I’m not a bad person….. I’m not evil.” 

“Really?” He chuckled. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” 

You glared at him. 

“Denying the truth and suppressing the memories - they won’t change what happened Y/n.” He stepped forward, the slits in his eyes narrowing. “They won’t change the fact that you almost killed someone.” 

No.

No. 

No. 

“And not just anyone, a five year old child, a child a family entrusted you to look after.”

“Enough.” You spoke between gritted teeth. 

“All because he spoke a few harsh truths to your face-” 

“I said enough.” 

But he didn’t stop. 

“You got so angry, you unleashed your powers, burnt down the house and nearly killed that child.” 

“That’s not true-” 

“But it is!” He snarled, raising his voice as the fire around him rose to life, crawling towards you on the forest floor. The amusement in his voice was replaced with something darker, something more menacing. “If the firefighters hadn’t come on time, that child would have died…. All because you didn’t like what he said.” 

“He said I deserved to be alone!” You finally snapped, something hot searing through your veins. “He said my parents abandoned me because I was not good enough for them!” 

The memory finally flashed in your head again, fresh as day. 

For almost a year now, you had been taking on a side job of babysitting kids for rich parents who needed to get away for their late night dates and parties. Usually it was a piece of cake - most kids were already tired from playing the whole day so all you had to do was ensure they finished their food and went to sleep. After that you simply worked on your assignments or flipped through the book collections on the shelves or the channels on the tv, waiting to be relieved of your duties. 

It was just another night like that, another rich family, another big house in the suburb but this time, it was the most uncooperative child you had ever encountered. You had a buttload of work to do that day, your pencils and papers scattered all over the dining table once that little devil had gone to his room to sleep but for some fucking reason, he kept waking up. You could tell he was spoilt, demanding to eat candy at freaking 10pm, secretly drinking soft drinks from the fridge, throwing his toys all over. You had been patient with him for a long time, much beyond your capacity really but when he spilled a bottle full of sauce on a project you had spent hours working on, you raised your voice. 

You expected him to cry and that you’d have to apologise, calm him and put him to sleep, instead, he sneered at you.

He simply shrugged and asked why you were being such a pain in the ass. As though it wasn’t shocking enough to hear such a statement from a child, he went on to ask how your parents handled someone as uptight as you. When you retorted that you didn’t have any parents, he said two words that still haunted you - “No wonder.”

By now you had already reached your limit but when he added that they must have left you because you were so insufferable, something inside you snapped. One minute you were the angriest you had ever been and in the next, there was fire and screams everywhere. 

His cries rang in your ears as you shut them hard trying to block it. The Chimaera’s snickers were what took over instead. 

“Stop trying to run away from what you did-” 

“That was an accident.” You shook your head hard. “That wasn’t on purpose, I didn’t want to hurt him-” 

“Is it?” He raised an eyebrow. “Then why does no one in your precious camp know this story Y/n? The parents sued you, you spent a few nights in jail for arson, in a few days time you are to appear in front of a jury to plead your case yet your lawyer doesn't know a thing that happened - no one can figure out how the fire started and you won’t tell them. You don’t want to tell them because that would mean admitting that you’re different, that you’re not one of them, that you always were and are a loner.” 

You wanted to deny it, just like when Wonwoo was exposing you like this. You wanted to scream and shout and tell this horrible creature it was wrong but words couldn’t leave your mouth - in the face of truth, one often fell silent. 

“But you don’t have to be alone Y/n.” The Chimaera stepped forward, his demeanor suddenly switching from accusatory to sympathetic. “From the moment I sensed your power that night, I’ve been looking for you. I’ve been trying to meet you and tell you who you, to bring you home, where you belong-” 

“You….” You looked at him, lips parting in surprise. “You want to take me home?” 

He nodded. “The mortals are anyways too unworthy to understand your power but so are the demigods. Even if you are half god, the fact that you are half monster is all they will see. With them, you’ll always have to hide but with us? You’ll be free. Free to be yourself, free to unleash your powers, free to be unafraid.” 

Your mouth moved but no words left you. 

“Tell me anything but that you’re thinking about the Son of Zeus.” He narrowed his eyes. “That you’ve set your heart on him.”

Stuttering, you looked away. “I..I’m….”

“You mortals and your love,” He rolled his eyes. “The man because of whom you’re so hesitant, do you think he’ll accept you once he learns what you really are? He brought you to his camp to save you from danger but what do you think will happen when he learns that you in fact are the real danger? Do you think he’ll choose you over his boys?” 

You let out a shaky breath as he neared, the flames following him. 

“Come with me Y/n, let’s go to Tartarus, to our family. To those who will truly love and accept you.” You could smell the fire as he stood inches away from you. “All these part-mortals will die one day, will leave you behind, but we won’t. We’ll always be there for you.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Monsters are immortal too Y/n, we never die.” He smiled as the flames encircled you fully and strangely, you could feel the warmth of it. “Killing a monster simply means weakening us and sending us back to Tartarus, our realm. It’s only a matter of time before we gain our strength and come back to the human world. You can never truly kill a monster.”

A family forever. A home forever. That’s what he was offering you. What you had been looking for your whole life. 

“So come with me Y/n.” He held his hand out. “Come where you truly belong-”

“Y/n!” 

You turned at the sound of a frantic voice, spotting Seungcheol far away, between the trees, looking at you terrified. Thunder clapped across the sky as he ran towards you.

“Get away from him, he’s dangerous-” 

“Yes, when all I’ve done is have a conversation.” The man before you rolled his eyes, extending his hand further. “This is what these demigods do, villainize us for no reason.”

At the loud sound of Seungcheol falling you turned around worried, “Cheol careful-”

“Listen to me Y/n.” Your father drew your attention as Seungcheol got up, making his way towards you again. “They’ll do the same to you, they’ll label you a monster either ways, so come with me and we can go home now.” 

“Y/n step back-”

“Y/n come with me-”

“Y/n please don't-”

“Y/n please-”

You shut your eyes, unable to process both their voices, unable to make a choice. The fire around you intensified, burning with a darker orange - flames streamed out of your hands, joining the already raging fire, towering over the two of you. Panicking you tried to stop them but they just wouldn't - it was like that fateful night all over again. You couldn't control it. 

The Chimaera's eyes gleamed victoriously as he watched your fire burn around him. He looked astounded, like he was enthralled by it. 

“You're brilliant Y/n, you're simply brilliant. They don't deserve you-” 

“Y/n can you hear me?” You couldn't see him but his silhouette told you that Seungcheol had neared. “Don't worry, I'll save you, I got you-” 

“She doesn't need you.” Your father snarled, waving his hand, and the fire followed, striking Seungcheol right in his chest, the sheer force sending him hurling back. 

“No!” You screamed, rushing towards him when the Chimaera's hand wrapped around your wrist holding you back. 

“Y/n we need to go-” 

“No.” You muttered, voice shaking. “No, Cheol, no….”

“It doesn't matter, he doesn't matter, let him die. If we don't get out of your fire, it will…..” 

You can't really hear what he's saying anymore. Let him die. 

You would never let someone die. You didn't let that child die, you won't let Seungcheol die, you weren't one of the monsters. You just weren't. 

Freeing your hand from his with a jerk, you pushed him back, sending the tall man stumbling behind. 

“How could you?” You shook your head. “How could you think I'd join you?”

“I hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” He cracked his neck, straightening up. “If you're not going to come on your own, then I'll drag you to hell by myself.” 

Your throat dried as you watched his face morph, his limbs changing into an animal's, the gruesome image of him you had seen in the scrolls coming to life before you - part lion, part goat, part snake. It made your soul tremble. 

“No.” Lower lip quivering, you stepped back. “You're going to hell alone.” 

And you're not really sure what overcame you or how you knew what to do but suddenly the fire around you roared to life, streaks of the flames charging towards the monster, wrapping it in its grip. You watched as its expression went from amusement to disbelief to pure fear and ended with a mocking smile on its face. When the fire fully engulfed him, it exploded, leaving behind only black ash, fluttering in the wind. 

You stumbled, losing your footing, feeling suddenly drained as you fell to your knees, vision blurring. Pain seared through your head, immaculate pain that you had never felt before but somehow it wasn't worse than the one in your chest. The one you felt as you looked at Seungcheol lying on the forest floor in a pool of blood. Getting it together you quickly got up and rushed to him, pulling him into your lap, calling out to him. 

“Cheol, can you hear me?” Tears stung your eyes. “Please please please be okay.” 

He wasn't okay. The impact of the Chimaera's attack sent him straight into the trunk of the tree, his back and his head was severely wounded but the most noticeable thing was the large burn mark right in the middle of his chest. 

“Help.” You whispered, looking around even though you knew it was pointless. There was no one around. “Please help.” 

But the only response you got is the sound of hooves, galloping across the forest floor. Unsure, you pulled Seungcheol closer to you, looking out into the fog between the trees. Whoever it was, whatever it was, if it meant any more harm to Seungcheol you'll fight it. You'll die fighting it but you'll save this man. 

But that wasn't necessary. 

As the sound neared, a familiar looking winged horse jumped out of the mist, neighing at the sight of you. 

Pegasus. Seokmin's horse. 

Finally, finally allowing yourself to breathe, you shut your eyes in relief. Maybe Seungcheol could be saved after all. 

Everything that happened from the moment you came to camp was still a blur. 

The minute Pegasus entered the grounds, all the members rushed towards the two of you, faces filled with terror. Some members carried Seungcheol towards the Great Hall. Someone had wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, someone else handed you some strange concoction and told you to drink up. It was all a flurry of motion as everyone made their way to the infirmary, a hall you hadn't seen before, putting Seungcheol down on the bed as Jihoon grabbed a pair of scissors and cut his shirt open. You nearly threw up.

The wound was so much worse than you had thought, red and angry on his skin. The members scurried around, grabbing the different things Jihoon was ordering them to get as you stood in between it all, frozen. It was only when Jihoon smeared a green paste all over Seungcheol's chest and the latter screamed in agony that you snapped out of the trance. He was in so much pain-

“Y/n!” Minghao shook your shoulders, making you turn to him. “I'm asking you something.” 

“W….what?” 

“How did this happen?” His gaze was piercing. “Did you guys find the Chimaera?”

Slowly, you nodded.

“And Seungcheol fought it?” He looked stunned. “Why aren't either of you in your gear, what the hell happened-” 

“Minghao.” Jeonghan's voice echoed through the room like the crack of a whip. “Enough.”

“But we need to know-” 

“No, we don't.” He neared you, pulling you away from Minghao’s grip. “Not right now. She's hurt too.”

You glanced down at your legs, noticing the gashes and wounds all over. You didn't even realise. And why would you? This pain was nothing before what Seungcheol was going through. 

“Fuck, Y/n.” Jun stepped up and quickly sat you on the neighbouring bed, reaching for the iodine and cotton, cleaning you up. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jeonghan turn to Joshua. 

“Take her away from here.” He instructed. “Don't let her step foot in the infirmary till Cheol is fine.” 

You opened your mouth in disbelief. You wanted to argue, you wanted to protest but you couldn't bring yourself to. Not with the way your head was spinning. Minghao's worried face was the last thing you saw before the darkness consumed you. 

—

When you opened your eyes, all you could see was the white of the ceiling. 

You glanced at the camp outside the window. It was submerged in the black of the night, only the usual scattered torches burning around. You looked away - the sight of fire was unbearable.

Groaning you sat up, body sore all over, as you kicked the covers off. The wounds seemed to have fully disappeared, you're guessing courtesy of Jihoon's herbal ointment but the pain in your chest was ever present. 

Limping out of the room, you glanced around, wondering where you were. The abnormal amount of mirrors gave you your answer - House of Aphrodite, Joshua's residence. You walked around, catching sight of the silhouettes of the furniture - you always assumed Joshua would have the prettiest house of them all and that seemed true. At least from the little you could see in the moonlight streaming in. 

The soft snores of the residence owner were what pulled you towards his bedroom. You meant to glance, to see if he was properly asleep and sneak out but the sound of your feet awakened him. 

“Y/n…” He called out to you groggily, raising himself on his elbows. “Why aren't you asleep?” 

How could you sleep with Seungcheol lying in the infirmary like that? When you didn't have a clue how he was doing?

Joshua read your mind. 

“Cheol is fine.” He mumbled, clearing his throat. “He's better.”

“I want to see him-” 

“I know.” He sighed. “But Jihoon has strictly asked no one to go to the infirmary. He doesn't want to he disturbed.”

“Will….” You gulped, stepping onto his room. “Will he be okay?” 

“He will. He has to. For all of us.” 

“Yeah.” You whispered, looking around with a sigh. “I don't know what to do. I won't be able to do anything till he's fine-”

“Come here.” Joshua beckoned you, scooting over in his bed, making space for you. You blinked at him confused. “Come Y/n.”

Letting out a deep breath, you complied, slipping under his covers. 

“Look up.” 

And you did, eyes meeting the fascinating sight of the sky, stars blinking behind the dark clouds, the moonlight scattered between them. It looked so calming. 

“Didn't you say you liked camping with your father when you were a child?”

You had told him that. A few days after you came to camp, given Joshua was your only confidant, you had told him about the earliest memory you had. It was when you were around 6 years old, on one of the rare days your father was particularly happy, insisting that the two of you drive to the edge of the city and set up a little tent. Of course he was silly to choose a really windy day to camp and also more than incapable of setting up a tent so you simply watched as it flew away and burst out laughing. That night your father rolled out two sleeping bags side by side as the two of you talked about the stars while the campfire burnt away. 

Somehow now, it made sense why the flames didn't extinguish in the wind. It was you. Your power over fire, a power you got from your real father, not the man who's love, attention and validation you craves for twenty five years of your life. That man wasn't your father. 

Joshua turned at the sound of you letting out a deep breath, finding your eyes shut tight. You didn't want to see the stars anymore. 

“Y/n,” He turned towards you. “Are you okay?” 

“I'm fine.” You mumbled. “I should probably sleep….” 

The lack of response told you that Joshua didn't believe you. You turned to glance at him, noticing his worried expression.

“Okay, I'm not fine,” You confessed. “But I will be.” 

“And I will be there for you.” He reassured, taking your hand. Sighing softly you scooted closer to him, burying your face at the crook of his neck as his arms wrapped around you. 

“Thank you Shua.” You whispered. “Thank you.” 

But before you could hear what he had to say in return, you drifted away, falling asleep.

Although you couldn't ever bring yourself to wake up for training at the crack of dawn, you somehow found yourself wide awake today. Joshua hadn't moved an inch in his sleep, still holding on to you. As much as you found his arms warm and welcoming, you had to go see Seungcheol. You had to see if he was fine.

Slowly slipping out of his embrace, you slid out of Joshua's bed, glancing at him one last time before grabbing his jacket and silently stepping out. 

The morning dew had made the grass all wet and squelchy, your footsteps very apparent in the silence but thankfully there was no one in an audible radius. The flames of the torch continued to burn low which meant training hadn't started yet, or maybe there was none today, you didn't know. Quickening your pace you walked over to the Great Hall, locating the infirmary beside it. 

Through the window you glanced in the dimness, recognising the silhouette of Seungcheol asleep on the bed and another someone sitting on the couch beside him, his head rolled back and mouth slightly parted in his sleep - Jeonghan. 

You wanted to step in, to sit beside Seungcheol, to see how he was but somehow you couldn't move, not with all that weight in your chest. 

“You shouldn't be here.” 

You covered your mouth, preventing the shriek from leaving your being as you turned, spotting Jihoon behind you, a tray of herbs in his hand. “Jeonghan was very clear about not allowing you to go near Seungcheol.”

“And since when does Jeonghan tell everyone what to do?” 

“He's interim leader.” Jihoon sighed. “In the absence of Cheol, his word is the rule.”

“It's not like Cheol's gone.” You rolled your eyes but when they fell on Jihoon's grim expression you gulped. “Joshua said he was better.” 

“Better than before, yes.” Jihoon agreed. “I've fixed his bruises and mended his bones and everything else is healing but…” 

“But?” 

“That burn on his chest.” He sighed. “I don't know how to fix it.”

“Y-you can't fix the burn?” 

He shook his head. “Certain things cause damage beyond repair. Zeus’s lightning, Ares's sword, Chimaera's fire, these are nearly impossible to heal from.”

“Nearly? That means there's some way.” 

“There is.” He nodded slowly. “The Chimaera hasn't been heard of in ages so most healers don't bother to learn the remedies for his fire but luckily I did.” 

“So you can fix him.” You looked at the man before you, eyes shimmering with hope. 

But Jihoon shook his head. “I would've been able to if that was the Chimaera's fire, but….. it's not.” 

It felt like the ground had been pulled from under you. 

“Every fire is different, every fire has its own pattern, its own signature. One can tell by the burn, who's fire caused the injury and Seungcheol’s wound is not from the Chimaera's fire. It’s someone else's.” 

You took a few stumbling steps back, sweat running down your neck. 

You. 

Your fire. 

It was your fire which hurt Seungcheol.

This was all your fault. 

Jihoon frowned. “Y/n, do you know anything about-”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

With that you left behind a baffled Jihoon, turning on your heel and running out of the Great Hall, straight into the forest. 

And for a long time, you didn't stop running. 

By the time you returned to camp, it was nearly noon. 

You could tell that the members had been looking for you because the moment you stepped into the dining hall, Soonyoung nearly knocked you over with a bone crushing hug. 

“Fuck, Y/n, where have you been?” He held you tighter. “We were worried sick.” 

“Someone call Hansol and his hounds back.” Minghao spoke from across the room. “Tell him she's here and she's fine.” 

Seungkwan muttered that he would do so before shooting you a concerned look, and leaving the hall. Joshua stepped up as Soonyoung finally let you go. 

“I was worried when I woke up and you weren't there.” 

“Is that where you're crashing now?” Mingyu wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Don't worry, not for long, your new residence is coming along really well, it should be ready in a few days.” 

You scoffed inwardly. What was the point?

“Thanks.” You muttered as Chan walked up to you with a glass of water in his hands, looking down pointedly. 

“Your feet are injured again.” 

“I went for a run.” You confessed. “Had to clear my mind.” 

“Are you that used to punishment rounds first thing in the morning?” Seokmin chuckled. “I'm going to have to find a different punishment for you if you're enjoying it.” 

A small smile grew on your face as the boys began to argue, talking one over the other. From across the room Wonwoo, who was the only one who hadn't approached you, looked at you expressionlessly, his eyes hooded. Gulping you turned away, just in time for Jun to drag you to the table, putting down a plate of food, insisting you eat. The rest of the boys too scattered around, grabbing their own plates, serving themselves, settling in one by one. At the same time, Seungkwan walked in with a tired, dirt clad and unamused Hansol. 

“Don't ever do that again.” Hansol, who hadn't spoken a word to you all these days, mumbled, walking in. 

“Don't worry.” You took a bite of Jun's delicious bibimbap, mind at undeniable peace now that you had made a decision. “I won't trouble anyone anymore.” 

You spent the rest of the day in the Great Hall with the boys. You had asked for their company, mumbling under your breath and without asking why, they complied immediately. Of course Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Jihoon were still in the infirmary but the rest of the boys were scattered around the hall all day. 

At most times it was quiet, everyone doing their own thing in the silence. Some of them were reading, some were working, Minghao was cleaning his weapons, Jun and Mingyu were consistently cooking, Wonwoo was just looking out of the window. 

It was only after dinner that everyone finally dispersed, retreating to their cabins. Joshua offered his residence for you to crash again and you agreed, stating you needed to grab your clothes, shower and you'll be there. Nodding he left with the rest, as you made your way to Seungcheol's house. 

For the longest time, this place had been your safe haven but stepping into the empty space today only further broke your heart. You had made the right choice. 

Heading to your room, you grabbed a duffel bag and stuffed some of your essentials - clothes, laptop, books etc. Throwing on a hoodie, you gave your room one last longing look before closing the door behind you. It was only as you stepped out of the large entrance that you felt the soft fur caressing your leg. 

Natalie.

Bending down, you rubbed her fondly as she looked up at you with her big cute eyes. 

“I'm going Nat.” You softly muttered, “As much as I hoped, I don't belong here. I've done nothing but be a menace, attract trouble and worse, put lives in danger. I can't do that to these boys anymore, I just can't….you understand that right? 

She looked at you like she did.

“I would bring you along, but you're a creature of Olympus, of the heavens and I,” You let out a shaky breath. “I'm on my way to hell.” 

Dropping a small kiss on its crown, you smiled at it sadly.

“You'll be happy here, there's Jun’s farm, you can follow Wonwoo all day, you can play with Daisy and the hounds too. You'll be fine without me.”

She whined, louder than usual and it hurt but you knew this was for the best. You had to go and you had to go alone. 

Throwing your duffel bag over your shoulder, you set out towards the camp entrance, ready to leave it all behind, ready to go. You had people here who loved you, people who were annoyed with you, people who were sick of you, peepple who ignored you, but no one hated you, not yet at least. And you wanted to leave before that happened. Because you were sure if they found out it was you who injured Seungcheol, they wouldn't forgive you. 

Taking a deep resolved breath, you took a step forward - it was time to head to hell. 

But before you could take another step, the voice of hell itself stopped you. 

“Going already?”

You turned at the sound of his voice, looking around, chills running down your spine when you didn't spot anyone. 

“I did say you'd look for the first chance to go but I didn't think it would be so soon.” 

You turned again, spotting him right by the last torch of the path, the glow of the torch illuminating his sharp features. He most definitely wasn't there a second ago. 

“Wonwoo.” 

“Y/n.” He stepped forward. “As the Son of Underworld, I'm here to give you a quick briefing before you decide to make hell your new home - it's very hot and very, very stuffy.” 

Eyes widening, you stuttered. “H-how did you know that I was…that I wanted to-” 

“Do something utterly stupid?” He raised his eyebrow. 

And suddenly, he vanished. Straight into thin air. One second you were looking at him and the next, he was gone. And just like that, he appeared again, like he never left. 

Oh.

Of course.

Wonwoo, Son of Hades, had the power of invisibility. Of course he knew - he was always watching. 

Your mind raced back to every instance you had been alone - the library doors randomly opening, the crackling sound of the fallen leaves near the campfire, as though someone was walking, the strange feeling of someone constantly watching. It was all him and that meant there was a lot he saw and a lot more he knew. 

“If things take a turn and you're forced to face it, do whatever it takes to fight it. Don't think, don't analyse, just do it.” 

Wonwoo knew about your fire.

“Why didn't you tell me you knew?” You looked at him, tone unnecessarily accusatory. “Why didn't you say anything?” 

“This was yours to tell.” He shrugged. “I happened to find out by chance.” 

“You mean by stalking.” You spoke between gritted teeth. “You had no right to-”

“I didn't mean to.” He emphasized again.”I wasn't aware you knew your powers or that you were hiding them.”

“Does anyone else know?” 

Wonwoo shook his head. “I told you, it's not mine to tell.”

Sighing, you relaxed your shoulders. Although you were glad that no one else knew, somehow Wonwoo knowing felt like a relief. 

“Why not though?” You glanced at him curiously. “Why would you keep someone as dangerous as me on camp?”

“You're not dangerous Y/n, just different.” 

“Just? Wonwoo….” You took a deep shaky breath. “It was my fire that injured Seungcheol.” 

For a second, he was quiet. “How?” 

“It was an accident-” You mumbled, scared. “I didn't know the Chimaera would be able to use it like that-” 

“So that makes the monster dangerous.” He justified. “You're untrained, that's all.” 

That's all? 

“It's not that simple.” You threw your hands in the air. “You have no idea-” 

“No I don't.” He interjected. “No one does because there's never been a demigod like you but that doesn't make you worthy of going to hell.” 

“You think I'm going to hell to punish myself?” You raised an eyebrow. “Wonwoo, I belong there, perhaps more than you do.” 

For the first time you saw an expression on his face, one of confusion. 

“The Chimaera wasn't hunting me Wonwoo, it was trying to bring me home.” Shutting your eyes, you let out a breath. “The Chimaera is my father.”.

You expected the man before you to look shocked or at least a little scared but his expression turned impassive again. 

“So?” Wonwoo crossed his arms. “Hades is my father.”

“It's not the same-”

“But it is.” Wonwoo exhaled. “My father isn't an Olympian Y/n, he's not one of those gods, he's not worshiped like the rest. Children of Hades do not live on camps, yet here I am.”

Oh. 

You had no idea. 

“It doesn't matter what your parentage is, the problem is you don't consider this place as home, you don't consider these people as yours-” 

“That's not true-”

“If it wasn't, then instead of running away you'd have been in the infirmary, telling Jihoon about your fire.” He snapped. “So he can figure out how to heal Seungcheol.” 

You blinked at him at a loss of words. 

“I didn't think….” 

“That's the problem Y/n, you don't think.” Wonwoo looked away, sighing. “You do the first thing that comes to your mind, regardless of the consequences.” 

He was right. You always were impulsive but this time you were also wrong. You should've thought of Seungcheol first, everything else be damned. 

“If I tell Jihoon about….me, can he save Cheol?” 

“If he studies your fire, he might be able to figure out how-” 

“Let's go to the infirmary.” You interrupted him, determined. Even if saving Seungcheol meant exposing yourself, you'd do it. You'd do anything. 

But your feet stood rooted to the ground, like the fear of truth coming out hadn't left your being.

“C-can you come with me…” You looked at the man before you. “Please?” 

For the first time as you walked, Wonwoo followed, staying by your side. 

“Y/n.” Jihoon looked at you as you stepped into the infirmary. “You shouldn't be here…”

Behind him Jeonghan, who was sitting on the edge of Seungcheol’s bed, stood up. 

“I know but-” 

“Please.” Jihoon whispered urgently. “You don't want to mess with Jeonghan now. Not with Cheol not getting any better-” 

“She's here to help.” Wonwoo spoke from behind, leaning against the entrance. “At least listen to her first.” 

“Go on.” Jeonghan spoke from behind, stepping up. “What is it?”

“You said it was someone else’s fire that hurt Cheol right?”

Jihoon frowned. “Yeah, do you know who?” 

Stretching your hand out, you held it before him. His eyes flickered between you and your empty hand, expression utterly confused. Taking a deep breath, you stared at your palm and like always, flames suddenly burned to life in your hand. Gasping, Jihoon took a terrified step back, eyes widened. 

“You… you can…”

“I can.” You finally admitted, even to yourself. “I can make fire.” 

“How is that possible….” Jihoon stared at your hand lost in thought. 

Your eyes though, drifted towards Jeonghan who looked unaffected. No shock, no surprise, no fear. Like he already knew. Like he always knew. 

You looked over your shoulder at Wonwoo. “You told him? You said you didn't-” 

“How pathetic do you deem my intellect Y/n?” Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “He didn't have to say anything, it was obvious.” 

“What do you mean obvious?” You lowered your hand, the flames dying out. 

“Your lawsuit.” He cocked his head. “We claimed the fire was an accident, like you had said but the defense argued that there was no way the fire could have spread so fast unless it was pre planned. At that point, I suspected you might be a fire bender. Of course, most fire benders are the children of Hephaestus but there weren't many Hestia children to rule out the possibility but when the house was examined, there was no identifiable source of the fire. Which meant it started out of thin air, that meant you weren't just a fire bender, you were making it too. Given your history of having an untraceable aura, I thought something was not aligning - something was different about you.” 

You gulped, unsure about verifying his theory. From the corner of your eye, you caught Wonwoo nodding at you encouragingly. 

“I am different.” Your eyes flickered between the men before you. “At the Nyx forest, the Chimaera spoke to me. He told me I was his daughter.”

A thick silence descended upon the room. So quiet you could practically hear your heartbeat. Yet again Jihoon looked stunned while Jeonghan looked like the cogwheels in his brain were spinning at full speed. 

“I've never heard about a half god, half monster.” You winced at the term as Jihoon looked far off, lost in thought. “I'm not sure what that would even look like-” 

“Me.” You sighed. “It would look like me.”

“What else?” Jeonghan chimed in. “What else did the Chimaera say?” 

“N-nothing much, he just kept insisting that I go with him to Tartarus, that it's where I belong-”

“You belong here.” Jeonghan interjected, features molding into slight anger. “Whatever it claims the other half of you is, you are half god. You were identified by the oracle, you pledged to be a part of camp seventeen and we swore to protect you as one of us so if there's anywhere you are meant to be, it's here.” 

Tears pricked your eyes hearing the conviction in his voice. Never before had someone been so insistent that you belonged. 

“I will look into what the Chimaera said means for you being part of the camp but nothing will change the fact that you are one of us.”

Beside him Jihoon nodded. You didn't see but behind you, Wonwoo nodded too.

“Jeonghan I…” You balled your hands into fists. You had thought a lot before making this choice. You knew it was the right one. “I appreciate you saying that but I just want to help Cheol however I can. Once he’s better, I will be heading to Tartarus.” 

“Why?” Jihoon looked at you questioningly. “Why would you choose to go there?” 

“Because….” You felt your voice get stuck in your throat. “Because I…”

“You think you’re meant to be there but you’re not.” Jeonghan crossed his arms. “Y/n, whether we turn out to be good or bad, it's a choice. It's always our choice. Whether you choose to go or choose to stay I want you to know that camp seventeen chose you, we always will. It's up to you to choose us.” 

“I….” 

“You don't have to decide now.” Jeonghan shook his head. “Let Jihoon study your fire first. Let us save Cheol. Once he comes around, you can tell us your decision. Whatever it is, we'll all accept it.” 

Staring at the ground, you nodded. Seungcheol first, everything else came later. 

The next few days passed a lot slower than usual. 

Under Jeonghan's instructions, all camp training had been suspended indefinitely. While some members were added to the shift roster to increase the security of the camp, others were sent out with missions to procure the ingredients Jihoon asked for. Apparently some of them were so rare, members wouldn't return home for days but no one ever complained. Everyone silently followed orders and did what they were instructed to do. 

You, on the other hand, had nothing to do. Jeonghan simply told you to be available as and when Jihoon required you. Apollo's son had been spending all his time nose deep in books and ancient texts, scribbling away and brewing all kinds of potions and concoctions. Whenever any of his remedies didn't work, he'd call for you and ask to see your fire again. Sometimes he told you to burn something, sometimes he told you to just hold the flame as long as you could. Sometimes he just wanted you to sit by him. Maybe he didn't like to be as alone as he came across.

On the other side of the room, Jeonghan didn't leave Seungcheol even for a second. All day and all night, he sat on that couch, right next to him - he ate there, he slept there, he went through his case files there, he was eternally glued to his friends side. Somewhere deep down, you felt a little jealous. You'd never seen friendship like theirs and you didn't know if you could ever have something like that in your life. 

But sometimes, a part of you said maybe you could. 

When you weren't required in the infirmary and were tired of breathing the camp air, you'd set off, going deeper into the woods, finding a log and sitting all by yourself. But you were never alone. The rustling sound of the leaves or the soft sounds of breath in the pin drop silence told you you weren't alone, he was always there. 

Wonwoo. 

You couldn't see him but you knew he was around, watching over you and somehow it didn't feel intrusive - There was a solace his presence offered that you couldn't explain. It was funny though, how you went from being completely ignored by him to being constantly looked after - in hindsight maybe he always cared for you. 

Clearly they all cared for you. Although Mingyu, Chan and Soonyoung were the ones who were sent away to missions, the first thing they did after enquiring about Cheol was come looking for you - they wanted to make sure you were fine too. Jun and Minghao always made sure you ate, Seokmin, Hansol and Seungkwan had taken over with the building of your house and Joshua was your constant companion all night - after every long, tiring and unsuccessful day, it was in his arms that you found yourself dozing off. Although the rest of the members did not know about your parentage yet, again thanks to Jeonghan's instructions, a part of you now felt that they would accept you, regardless of what your father claimed. 

But the big question was, what was the right choice? With you in camp, was it safe? Sure you had managed to send your father back to Tartarus but it was only a matter of time before he got stronger and came looking for you again. He had already sent his minions once and clearly he didn't care about any collateral damage. You were still very much a threat to everyone, you'd always be one. Maybe, after Cheol regained consciousness, it was best you left. 

You told yourself you'd leave but one look at the way the boys bickered and laughed around the dining hall and you'd find your resolve wavering. You didn't want to leave them, you didn't want to go. But the gnawing feeling of what might happen to them in your company always brought you back to square one - it was a never ending loop of indecision. 

And it was that loop that was going on in your mind as you watched Jeonghan flipping through the multiple files he had laid out on the bed beside Seungcheol’s. 

“Look, the case appears simple but it isn't so straightforward,” Jeonghan looked up, tucking the pencil over his ear. The two of you were finally going over the details of the lawsuit. “The Parks, the family that is suing you, is doing so for two reasons - damage of personal property and attempting to harm their son.”

You glanced at the papers he was looking at.

“That's where it becomes interesting. Even though you caused considerable trouble and more importantly, endangered their child, they aren't trying to get you prosecuted as a criminal,” Jeonghan's eyes gleamed. “They filed a civil lawsuit.” 

“Yes, they want me to compensate them monetarily. ”  

“Think about it, if you had a child-” You didn't want to think about that at all actually. “-and if someone tried to hurt her or him, what would be your response? Asking for money or asking for justice?” 

“I would've gone berserk.” You muttered. “I'd want them punished.”

“Precisely, instead, they're trying to get money out of a broke architecture student.” Jeonghan pointed out. “Doesn't make sense right?” 

You shook your head. 

“Usually in cases of property damage, most people seek insurance payouts but the Parks didn't and this is why.” He pushed a paper towards you. “Wonwoo managed to get his hands on the police report-”

“How?”

“The man does some secret government job, he's got his hands everywhere.” 

“Huh.” You looked around, wondering if he was listening. 

“He's not here.” Jeonghan brushed off, pointing at the paper again. “The point is, the police report mentions two things of major importance - One, they have no idea how the fire even started. Two, the Parks household did not implement any fire safety measures in their residence.” 

“So…. they're not eligible for an insurance payout, right?” 

Jeonghan nodded. “That is why they are pressing civil charges against you, so they can get the money from you, by labelling you as an arsonist.”

“But I am an arsonist.” 

Jeonghan sighed. “Okay you are, but they don't have any proof and that's what our argument will focus on. We will first insist that the police identify the source of fire and then we will add that you had no motive. You didn't know the family before all this, you had no personal connections, and you had no motive to harm.” 

“But the child….” You thought about that night again. “Jeonghan, he saw me start the fire.” 

“He won't remember.” Jeonghan sat back down on his chair. “The Demigod Union took care of that.” 

“The what?” 

“There's a body in every city that handles all demigod related issues called the Demigod Union. Luckily Mingyu was one of the firefighters at the scene so when he sensed the high levels of Aura, he alerted the DU. The senior members gave the child a memory potion while he was hospitalized and it replaced his memories - he only remembers sleeping and waking up to a room full of fire.” 

“If that's the case, he couldn’t have told the Parks anything so why would they think I was trying to harm their child?” 

“Sympathy.” Jeonghan stated like it was obvious. “They're trying to sway the jury by showing their five year old child as a victim. Hence we need to be careful and make the right moves, then we should be able to win this case.” 

You nodded, leaning back against your chair. One battle hadn't even ended and another had begun. You glanced at Jeonghan who seemed lost in his stack of papers again. There was scribbles everywhere, notes in the margins, yellow highlights marking points. Evidently he had done all his research thoroughly. 

“When did you even do all this?” 

“I take my job seriously.” He muttered without looking up. 

“Even the pro bono ones?”

“A case is a case.” He shrugged. “Besides, you are one of us.” 

There he was, hitting you with words that was only making choosing harder. 

You looked at the sleeping Seungcheol. His chest rose and fell with every breath he took, the bandages covering his wound, moving with it. A few days ago you wondered if you would ever get to see him again, but here you were today, right by his side.

“When you saw Seungcheol, did you know it was my fire that hurt him?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “Not at first, but when Jihoon said the fire didn’t seem like the Chimaera’s, I suspected it might have been yours.”

“If you didn't know, then why did you send me away that day?”

‘Because you were untrained and emotional.” He turned to you. “It takes a lot of training for demigods to gain control over their powers. Extreme emotion, be it happiness, sadness, anger…. They tend to make you unstable. I knew you were upset about Cheol so I didn’t want his condition to make you feel worse.”

“So you sent me away for….me?” 

“For everyone’s safety.” He corrected. 

“But when you realised it was my fault, why didn’t you tell Jihoon?” You looked at him curiously. “Why didn’t you confront me?”

Jeonghan sat on the couch, looking far off, growing silent.

“Jeonghan…?”

“I asked Jihoon to mention the unknown fire if you came asking for updates. I also asked Wonwoo to stop you from leaving.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “I wanted to know what you would choose to do.” 

“You were testing me?” You raised an eyebrow. “What if I ran away? What if Wonwoo couldn't stop me?” 

“Then I would have hunted you down no matter where on Earth you were and… “ He sighed. “And would have begged you to help me. Begged you to save him.”

You blinked at him, just a little stunned. “He really is important to you, isn’t he?” 

Jeonghan nodded. “He saved my life in more ways than one, you won’t understand. No one does.” 

“Jeonghan I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner-”

“I don’t blame you for your choices.” He sighed. “So I hope you won't hold mine against me.” 

“I…” You gulped, not quite sure if he was still talking about prioritising saving his friend over keeping your secret. “I don't mind that you chose him over me.” 

Jeonghan stared at you for just a little longer than usual before he nodded and turned away. “I need my afternoon nap.”

And with that, he turned away, snuggling into the couch and shutting his eyes. Within a few seconds, the soft sounds of his deep breaths filled the room. 

The conversation was over. 

Seungcheol wasn't getting any better. 

Though tension was palpable in the whole camp, perhaps the members chose to look at the bright side - he wasn't getting worse. 

Then the day came when Jihoon said he had exhausted all options, that he didn't know what to try anymore. Everyone had just about given up hope when he called for you one more time - 

“What colour is your fire when you're in pain?” 

You had no idea.

You spent half an hour after that trying your best to remember, and when nothing could jog your memory, you curled your fingers into a fist and slammed the glass pane of the nearby window, blood furiously trickling down your knuckles. When Jeonghan took a worried step forward, you raised your injured hand to stop him before it spontaneously burst into flames….Blue ones. 

Jihoon scribbled a quick note of it before tending to your wound, removing each glass piece embedded in your skin slowly. As you winced, he handed you a potion that he claimed would help with the pain and you gulped it down quickly remembering how bitter it tasted last time. Surprisingly, you noticed it wasn't too bad, nor was it the same colour as before. Though you didn't notice that Jihoon had visibly frozen, like a realisation had dawned upon him. 

The moment he was done dressing your wound he got to work, preparing what he called his final remedy. He said if this didn't work, then nothing could wake Seungcheol up anymore. 

That night, the whole camp waited with bated breath. You were lying on Joshua's bed with your back pressed against his chest and his arms around you but neither of you were asleep. Sleep was unimaginable now. Everyone just wanted to hear the news. And at around 8am in the morning, just as everyone was headed towards the dining hall, it came.

Zephyr, who hadn't stopped patrolling the skies all these days, suddenly flew down, over the heads of the strolling members, a gust of wind left behind in its wake as it made its way towards the infirmary. 

There was only one thing that could make it do that. 

Seungcheol's call. 

He was awake.

Cheering, all the boys rushed towards the Great Hall, running as fast as they could. You felt your knees buckle and hit the ground as you held your chest in relief.

He was fine.

Seungcheol was fine. 

.

.

.

That meant it was time to go. 

“Your name was the first thing he took.” Joshua spoke from behind you as you shoved a spoon of cereal in your mouth, sitting at the dining table. “He's been awake for days, why won't you go see him Y/n?” 

It had been nearly a week since Seungcheol gained consciousness in the infirmary. Since then, the dining hall had been unsurprisingly empty - all the members began to camp at the infirmary first then at his house where he was moved after a few days. You hadn't visited him in either place. 

“I will.” You munched slowly. “I'm just waiting for him to get better.” 

“He is better.” 

“But not as good as before, right?” 

“It's a matter of time.” Joshua slid onto the bench, sitting beside you. “Jihoon said he'll be walking in a day or two.” 

You nodded, humming. “That's good.”

“Hey.” Hand below your chin, Joshua turned your face towards him. “What's wrong, love? You were so worried all these days and now….”

“I don't know.” You whispered, voicing your fear. “I don't know how to face him. I don't know what he'll think of me when he learns it's all my fault-”

“If you don't know, then ask him.” 

Every cell in your body froze at the familiar voice you hadn't heard in a long time.

Seungcheol. 

“Chief.” Joshua quickly got up and bowed. “You're….are you okay?”

Seungcheol didn't answer, so you figured he nodded. As you heard his footsteps near, you turned, shutting your eyes and bowing, not looking at him. 

“Shua, ask Chan to start the car. Y/n and I have to go somewhere.” 

Taken aback, you looked up but Seungcheol had walked out already, Joshua following behind, throwing you an apologetic look. 

Did he know? Had he decided to drop you to Tartarus by himself? 

You had meant to leave the day Seungcheol opened his eyes. You had even packed all your things again but the boys claimed he wasn’t entirely fine yet. So you told yourself you’ll leave the next day and then the next and then the next and now here you were, with him finally well enough. 

You didn't know what to do, at least until the sound of Chan's taxi horn resounded in the camp - then you quickly put your bowl in the sink and rushed out. When you reached the car, Seungcheol was already sitting in the passenger seat while surprisingly Seungkwan sat at the back, scooting over to make space for you. No sooner than you got in Seungcheol instructed Chan to go and he did, setting off into the forest at full speed. 

The whole of the ride you looked down at the hands on your lap, fingers fiddling with each other nervously. When you began to pick at the skin beside your nails, Seungkwan's hand wrapped around yours, stopping you. You were grateful for that, especially with lightning consistently flashing across the sky, his hand over yours was a comforting weight. But he didn't need to hold on for long, not with the car stopping before a very familiar landmark tree. Getting out of the car, Seungcheol opened the door on your side, instructing both of you to get out and Seungkwan to go sit in front. Puzzled, the two of you complied and Seungcheol went over to Chan, 

“Both of you head back to camp.” 

Chan looked confused. “But what about you and Y/n?”

“My range rover is still here. I'll bring it back.” He stepped back. “You two should leave.” 

Without questioning any further, Chan nodded, reversing the car as Seungkwan shot you a worried look. As they left, disappearing at the end of the road, Seungcheol began to walk into the darkness of the forest while you stood rooted to the ground, unsure about what was happening. It was only when lightning furiously struck the olive tree and it burst into flames that you took a terrified step away, following him. 

By the time your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you found Seungcheol’s silhouette standing by his car that had been left here abandoned for days now. Pulling his keys from his pants, he unlocked it, getting into the driver's seat before turning on the engine, the car and the headlights roaring to life. 

“Get in.” 

You heard his voice over the soft humming of the engine and obeyed, not wanting to fuel his already intensified anger. Seungcheol stared far off at the trees illuminated by the white lights of the car, lost in thought. You didn't dare look at him. 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, though it had been barely a minute, he let out a sigh and turned to you. Wordlessly, he tugged you towards him, hand gripping your thigh as he pulled you into his lap. Although surprised, you didn't resist, letting him wrap his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Overwhelmed, you hugged him back, as tight as you could, like you never want to let him go. You could feel Seungcheol’s lips curl into a smile against your skin.

“I missed you.” He whispered, nuzzling his nose against your neck. 

Letting out a breath of relief, you finally smiled after days. “I…. I missed you too.” 

It turned out astronomy student Seungcheol was a resourceful young man.

After nearly fifteen minutes, when the two of you finally broke from the embrace, he headed to the boot of his car and pulled out a tent and a couple of camping supplies - apparently he spent a lot of nights out in the middle of nowhere, studying the stars. You sat and watched as he skillfully erected the tent, gathered some wood and started a campfire. You stared at the flames, thoughts racing in your mind. Camping had once been a very bittersweet memory for you, and you didn't know how today was going to turn out. 

When Seungcheol beckoned you to sit next to him by the campfire, you walked over and sat across him instead. It was high time for a conversation; for both of you to tell your truths. 

Seungcheol sighed, “I suppose it's time we talked.”  

You nodded. 

“I know my behaviour over the past many days must be confusing for you.”

You nodded again.

“Before I explain myself I just want to make one thing clear.” He took a deep breath. “I really like you Y/n.” 

Your lips parted in surprise. You didn't see that coming. 

“I have since the day you stepped into camp, and I saw the way you looked at me, I knew you liked me too.” 

“Then why….”

“Do you know why it's always dark in Nyx forest?” 

You blinked at the sudden switch of topic. 

“Because she's the goddess of the night?” 

“Yes, but she's also the goddess of darkness - the trees of her forest are so dense, they don't even allow light in.” 

“Okay….” 

“Which means other than the Underworld, this is the only place that cannot be seen from the skies, the only place my father has no eyes.” 

Zeus?

“You mean…” And you finally realised. “The reason behind everything you were doing is…..your father?” 

“I admit at first I didn't make a move on you because I didn't know if you truly liked me or if it was the….” 

“....usual attraction women have towards you?” 

Seungcheol gulped. “Yeah that, but when your feelings remained consistent after my initial rejection that day in my house, I figured it was real.” 

“Then why didn't you kiss me when I came back?” You remembered the lightning in the sky when the two of you were giggling away in the arch of the House of Zeus. Seungcheol's power was thunder, but when you were around him, it had always been lightning. It had always been Zeus. “Was it because of your father?”

Seungcheol nodded slowly, “Ever since your discovery, Olympus has been disturbed. An undetectable aura…. Everyone knew something was different about you.” Oh you knew what was different. “My father wasn't happy that I took you into my camp, so he made it very clear that I stay away from you. Otherwise he… would do what was necessary to keep you away.” 

“Zeus… threatened me?”

Seungcheol nodded. “Ever since then I have been on the edge around you, always guarded, always alert, always nervous…” Oh. His force field.  No wonder. “That's why I was surprised you could touch me without being electrocuted. But now that I think about it, maybe the force field wasn't active to begin with. Perhaps I was selfish, perhaps I wasn't antagonised enough and my desire to have you was greater than my desire to protect you.”

“Cheol….” You sighed, getting up and sitting beside him, taking his hand in yours. You had no idea he felt this deeply about you - all this while you assumed he didn't care. “I don't understand, why does your father care so much about….us? We're grown adults, we can make our own choices.” 

Seungcheol grew silent. Then he took a deep breath, 

“Olympus is…dying.” You frowned as he continued. “Yes the Gods are immortal but they've lived for too long, they've ruled for too long. After the Titans, they had been undefeated, ruling for centuries and now they're looking to step down on their own. They're looking for heirs and… Zeus wants me to be his.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your ears. Seungcheol….King of Olympus? Of course Zeus didn't want him to have anything to do with you, you were an anomaly, part monster. 

“Do you want to be…. I mean, is that what you want?” 

“Being King of Gods? I don't know, I was never asked if it's what I wanted. For as long as I remember, ever since I was a little boy, Zeus only told me to train hard, to become worthy.” He sighed. “I don't know about being King but I do want to be branded as his heir - having Zeus's blessing would make winning the quests a lot easier. I want that for my boys.” 

You scoffed disbelievingly. “Is winning a sparring competition really worth it?” 

Seungcheol’s expression was incredulous. “Winning the quest isn't just winning a title Y/n. The camp which wins is set free - it is disbanded and the members are allowed to return to the mortal world, to live their own lives, have careers and friends and families. Winning the quest means winning freedom.”

Oh. 

“The boys have been working hard for years yet we haven't been able to win a season. If I'm branded Heir of Zeus, it will be easier to make alliances, to gain favors. His Mark would change the whole game.” 

“His Mark?”

“His heir would carry some sort of identifiable symbol of Zeus called His Mark, I don't know what exactly, he hasn't officially branded me yet.” 

“Why not?”

“He still doesn't feel I'm worthy enough, he thinks I can do better. Train harder, lead the team better, choose my partner better….”

The two of you fell in a painful silence. 

“Y/n as much as I want His Mark, I want you too-” 

“But you can't have both can you?”

Seungcheol slowly shook his head. 

“You can't have both anywhere but here…” You slowly added. “Zeus isn't watching you here right?”

“He isn't but all that lightning earlier…. those were warnings. I suppose he suspects.” Seungcheol looked up, eyes meeting the trees instead of the sky. “I hoped this would seem like an attempt to get the car back but I guess not.” 

“Does that mean this is the first and last time we're going to be civil with each other?” You chuckled sadly. “Are we going to go back to the Cold War?”

“Y/n,” Seungcheol turned to you, gripping your hands tighter. “Let me just become his heir, officially that is, receive His Mark, win the quest and then we can do whatever - he can't stop me.”

“So you…you want us to work?”

He nodded. “Of course I do. Y/n I mean it, I really do like you and I want us to at least have a chance - that is if…. if you want me too.” 

You did want him. Of course you wanted him, but the fact still remained - you were part monster. Would Seungcheol, the leader who put his boys above all, the man who was to rule the heavens, still want you if he knew? It was only right to tell him the truth but…

Perhaps you took a little too long to muse. You were drawn out of your thoughts as Seungcheol retracted his hand.

“It's completely okay if you don't…” 

You gripped his fingers, looking at him determined. Seungcheol seemed confused by your mismatching actions but he waited for you to say something. Instead, you showed him.

Leaning forward you pressed your lips against his, softly at first before he tilted his head further capturing your mouth in a frenzy. 

The two of you kissed like teenagers in the heat, licking, sucking, moaning into each other's mouths. Lips swollen, neck almost catching a cramp from the angle, but you continued, sliding into his lap, your legs across his, whimpering when he squeezed your thighs. Instinctively, you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and lifted it, pulling it over your head and tossing it on the floor after which you realised….. the forest was watching. 

“What's wrong?” Seungcheol looked at you concerned, trying his best not to ogle at your breasts. 

“Feels like we're being watched.” You muttered, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him so you didn't feel so exposed. 

Laughing, Seungcheol looked up at you fondly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Everything in the Nyx forest embodies her, she's present everywhere.” 

“So we're going to have sex in…in front of a goddess?” 

“Oh we're going to have sex?” He grinned at you teasingly. 

“Cheol…” You whined. “Yes, yes we are,  but I just don't know about here…” 

“Nyx isn't just any goddess, she's a primordial. Unlike the gods, she doesn't have a human form. She's just an entity, spread through her realm.” 

“So she just… exists?” 

He nodded. “She doesn't come under the rules that govern the Gods - she's above and beyond the inhabitants of Olympus.”

“Does that mean she won't tattle on Zeus about us?”

Seungcheol laughed, placing a butterfly kiss on your nose, like you were too cute for him to handle. “She is the one god Zeus is terrified of so no, he won't ask and she won't tell.”  

“Thank fuck.” You muttered and kissed him again, your urgency nearly knocking him over. Balancing your weight over him, Seungcheol chuckled, pulling you closer, tongue slipping into your mouth. You wanted to take his shirt off too but when you tried to reach for the hem, Seungcheol drew back, glancing at your hand. 

“What?” You raised your eyebrows, curious but not worried. You had finally learnt that Seungcheol really wanted you. Something else was bothering him.

He shook his head and before you could ask him again, he hooked his arm under your knees and with absolutely zero effort, lifted you, carrying you to the tent. Somehow, after all that happened between the two of you, it was only when he glanced at your face so lovingly that you felt shy, looking away with a smile. Laughing Seungcheol set you down on the sleeping bag before zipping up the entrance, the faint light of the campfire illuminating the inside. You pulled your legs together, hugging your knees and Seungcheol's expression turned amused. 

“Didn't take you to be a shy one.”

“I'm not.” You mumbled, “but I don't know. I suddenly feel like a teenager who's out with her boyfriend, about to do it for the first time.” 

Seungcheol crouched, his eyes at you level, suppressing a smile. “Boyfriend?”

“Don't get ahead of yourself.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I'm just observing.” He laughed. “You like the forbidden.” 

“I don't mind the unconventional.” You corrected him. 

“Even if it means pretending like we don't want to have anything to do with each other when I like you so damn much?”

You nodded, trying not to blush. 

Seungcheol tugged your arms, pulling them away from you. “Even if we have to come to the middle of nowhere every time we want to have sex?” 

“Most definitely.” 

“And what if I never want to leave this place?” He leaned over, prompting you to lean away, your back hitting the ground as he hovered over you. “What if I want to be inside you and never leave?” 

“Works for me.” You grinned, pulling him down by his shirt, kissing him yet again. You couldn't remember the last time you enjoyed making out with someone this much. Maybe it was how soft his lips were, or how eager he was to kiss you back or just how much you craved this, the moment he broke away to kiss your neck, you whined at the loss. 

“I've been dying to get my hands on you like this.” He groaned, grabbing a tit with a hand and the other with his mouth, the swirl of his tongue making your back arch. Taking advantage of your raised hips, Seungcheol hooked his fingers along the waistband of your shorts, pulling it down along with your underwear. As he dragged it down your legs, he sat on his heels, looking at you like you were a miracle, causing you to blush all over again. Before you could ask to see him too he descended upon your chest again, trailing down this, mapping your skin with his lips as his fingers teased your folds. Of course you were drenched between your legs, your hands threading his thick tresses as he kissed you at the dip of your waistline, looking up to see you tense in anticipation. 

Fuck. 

He looked so hot like that, gauging your reactions, eager to please, asking inaudible if he could. When you gave him a soft nod, he wasted no time, throwing your legs over his shoulders, running his tongue deliberately slowly between your folds. The moan that left you was unholy to say the least, grip in his hair tightening as he didn't give you even a second to register it all, tongue slipping into your hole. Your thighs involuntarily squeezed together, trying to chase the feeling though your tried your best to not crush him between your legs, but Seungcheol seemed to be rather enjoying it all, sucking on your clit, coaxing it just the right way. In no time, he had a shiver run down your body, everything tightening in the pits of your being as you came on his tongue and he hummed against his skin, tasting you. 

“You taste fucking good.”

“You are fucking good.” You huffed, catching your breath, pulling your legs off his shoulders. “Where did you learn to do that?” 

Seungcheol shrugged, straightening himself. “Being the Son of Zeus is not all too bad.” 

You rolled your eyes as he undid his pants and leaned down to kiss you, caging you between his arms. His erection pressed against you, causing you to grind your hips, pulling a groan out of him. 

“Take your shirt off.” You whispered as he met your hips with his, not reacting. “Let me see you Cheol.” 

And when he continued to kiss down your neck without listening, you knew something was wrong. 

“Cheol….” Hands on his chest, you pushed him back, putting some distance between the two of you so you could see his face when he winced, like it hurt. 

Swearing under your breath, you apologised, sitting up as he did, face contorted in pain. Your hands moved to undo his buttons, when he shook his head, putting his hand in between. 

“Cheol let me see.” And when he seemed stubborn as ever, you added. “Are you still going to keep hiding things from me?” 

Those words make him lower his guard, allowing you to quickly work his buttons, eyes falling in the centre of his chest. There was a large wound right in the middle, the lesion scabbed, bleeding at places, looking red and devastatingly painful. It was the mark of your fire. 

“It’s my fault.” You whispered, terrified to run your fingers all over it. “It's all my fault-”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to…” Seungcheol sighed. “It’s not your fault Y/n, we both were foolish to not wear gear when we ventured off.”

He still thought you were blaming yourself for leading him to the Chimaera. He deserved to know that it was your fire that hurt him, he deserved the truth, just like he had given you. 

“Cheol I need to tell you something-”

“I know. I know the Chimaera was talking to you, that it told you something.” His expression wasn't as grim as you thought it would be. “But whatever it is, it can wait-”

“No it really can’t.”

“Haven’t you had enough of everything around us pulling us apart?” Seungcheol sighed. “There’s always something or the other trying to come between us when all we want is just to be with each other.”

“I know but-”

“Whatever it is can wait till we are done.” He looked at you expectantly. “Unless you insist I need to know right now.” 

You should have insisted. You should have told him the truth, but as much as it made you a hypocrite, your resolve faltered, and you shook your head. You were fully naked and halfway through things - it was already too late. If this was the last time you could have Seungcheol then you wanted to savor it. 

Relieved, Seungcheol stripped out of his shirt, trying his best to not show the pain in his face. “I’m fine, everything is fine.”

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, as his lips found yours, your bodies reaching for the ground again, Seungcheol holding his weight from crushing you. Giving his length a few pumps, you watched as he rubbed it against your folds, ignoring your pleas before he finally pushed it into your needy hole and your walls sucked him in immediately. 

“Fuck you’re tight.” He groaned, thrusting his hips slowly. A part of you wanted him to gently make love to you like this, but another just wanted to bring that animal out of him again, the one that railed you into oblivion on the hood of his car. All parts of you though, only wanted one thing. 

“Don’t….” And from your expression, Seungcheol knew what you were asking for. You didn’t want to cum fast or cum over and over again. You just wanted him. “Please, just let me feel you.” 

And he did. Bending your knee, he wrapped your leg around his waist and you immediately followed suit with the other one, locking your ankles behind him. He moved his hips, thrusting to a rhythm of his own - sometimes it was fast, hips snapping away as his eyes were fixed on your face twisted in pleasure. Sometimes it was slow and deep, kissing you on one hand, hitting all the right spots on the other. Either way, you came around him twice, your arousal leaking out, hole sore but you didn’t ask him to stop and neither did he offer to, like he was intoxicated by being inside you. It wasn’t until he frantically asked where you wanted him to come and you tightened your legs around him that he finally stopped, coming inside you, ropes of white coating your walls and filling you up. As he came down from his high, he rolled off you, lying on his back, his chest heaving, catching its lost breath. You snuggled into his arms, careful not to touch his wounds, realising it was finally time to tell him the truth. 

But you couldn’t. Not when he wrapped his arms around you, dropping a soft kiss on your forehead, muttering something you didn’t quite hear. 

Seungcheol’s truth had fixed what was broken, but your truth would only break the two of you again….

Maybe the truth could wait. 

Maybe some things really were better left unsaid. 

By the time the two of you returned to camp, the sun began setting behind the horizon. 

After the two of you cleaned up, packed the tent and other camping essentials, Seungcheol pulled you into his lap again, tangling his hands in your hair, kissing you. All sense of time lost, the two of you simply made out lazily, kisses interjected by laughter, laughter interjected by more kissing. Although you didn't want to part, he pressed his forehead against yours, sadly whispering, “We should go.” 

Throughout the two hour drive, neither of you spoke. You could tell he was itching to hold your hand and you longed to lean on him too but you were not in Nyx's domain anymore, you were under Zeus's skies. If two hours of distance was so difficult you wondered how the two of you would navigate the upcoming days, until Zeus decided to impart his Mark on him. But you'd do it. For him, for what was between the two of you, you'd do it. 

But the moment Seungcheol’s car entered the camp, you felt your guts twist. You couldn't place your finger on it all that well but something was very similar to the last time the two of you returned from the Forest of Nyx - all the members rushed towards the car immediately, faces looking both worried and confused. 

Seokmin rushed up to Seungcheol whispering something in his ear, the latter glancing at you concerned before asking you to follow him. Immediately, all of you headed towards the temple, murmuring amongst each other, finding Jihoon standing before the altar, two indistinguishable objects in his hand. 

“I didn't approach the Oracle.” Seungcheol frowned at Jihoon, puzzled. “How did these arrive….” 

“Well,” The Son of Apollo raised the contents in his hand. “They arrived nevertheless, one for you and one for her.”

Everyone turned to you. 

“For me?” You pointed at yourself. “What came for me?”

“Scroll of Sacrifice.” He held out a rolled piece of paper to you. “A deal, for one meeting with Goddess Hestia.” 

Stunned, you blinked at him.  

“And for you,” He turned to his chief. “A deal to receive the Mark of Zeus.”

Seungcheol and you turned to each other surprised - What was going on?

Stretching your hands out unsure, both of you reached for your respective scrolls, the paper immediately unravelling at your touch.

Written right in the middle of your paper, scribbled away in black ink was just one word, a name, one that felt like a knife was plunged into your heart - Seungcheol. 

Beside you, Seungcheol had dawned an equally painful expression on his face and over on his paper was a name too. 

Yours. 

A/n - Phew, what a chapter, this was such a challenge to write but we finally got some cheol action hehe and the ending, yeah, I know, what can I say, its impossible for me to function without a cliffhanger :') Anyways, thank you for reading, please feel free to leave your thoughts and screams and emotions in the comments or the tags - see you in chapter 5!

[seospicybin]

THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

FINAL PART.

Bangchan x reader. (s,f,a)

Chapters: Part I / Part II / Part III

Synopsis: When a new fuckboy, Minho, moves into the building, Chan’s sense of security is shaken. Minho’s flirtatious confidence and bold claim to win you over rattles Chan, igniting a rivalry. As Chan struggles to defend his relationship, he’s forced to confront his insecurities while proving his worth to you. (18,1k words)

Author's note: It's been fun writing this series. Thank you for enjoying this "fuckboy". Hope you enjoy this one too, my darlings ♡

The early morning light filters through the window, painting the room in soft hues of gold. You blink awake, your senses still heavy with sleep, and it takes a moment to realize where you are—wrapped in the warmth of Chan’s bed, tangled in the sheets that carry his comforting scent.

Turning your head, your gaze falls on him. Chan lies next to you, his face relaxed in sleep, his lashes casting delicate shadows over his cheeks. His soft curls are a tousled mess, a few strands falling over his forehead. He’s snoring lightly, the sound barely audible but undeniably endearing.

You can’t help but smile as your heart swells with affection. Careful not to wake him, you reach out, your fingers brushing his curls gently, marveling at their softness. The light touch doesn’t disturb him; he shifts slightly, murmuring something unintelligible before settling again.

Your hand trails lower, tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbone, the slight bump of his nose. He looks so peaceful, so utterly beautiful, that for a moment, you’re content to simply watch him.

You know you should wake him, ask if he wants to come with you to the farmer’s market like you’d planned. But seeing him like this, so serene, you can’t bring yourself to disturb him. Instead, you lean down and press a feather-light kiss to his lips, his soft breathing tickling your skin.

With a final glance, you slip out of bed and quietly gather your things. Pulling on yesterday’s clothes, you tiptoe out of his apartment, careful not to make a sound.

As you step into the hallway, the door closing gently behind you, you nearly jump when you see Minho standing a few steps away, leaning casually against the wall. He’s dressed for the day, a small smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your disheveled appearance.

“Morning,” he says, his tone teasing but not unkind.

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, shyly hugging yourself to hide your rumpled clothes. “Good morning, Minho,” you mumble, offering him a small, embarrassed smile.

“You're a morning person, I see,” he adds with a playful lift of his brow, his eyes flicking down from your head to your toe.

Your face burns hotter, but you muster a weak laugh. “Why are you even awake this early?”

Minho shrugs, his smirk softening into something closer to amusement. “Wanted to check out the farmer’s market. Fresh produce, you know?”

Your eyes light up, relief washing over you at the change of subject. “Really? I was actually heading there too.”

“Perfect timing,” he says, straightening up. “Want to go together?”

You nod, grateful for the distraction. “Sure, just give me a minute to change. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

As you move past him, hugging yourself tighter, you catch Minho’s amused glance lingering. It’s clear he’s enjoying your flustered state, but he doesn’t say anything more.

Safely inside your apartment, you lean against the door, exhaling deeply. You glance down at yourself—messy hair, wrinkled clothes—and groan softly, vowing to make yourself presentable before facing Minho again.

You can still feel the warmth of Chan’s bed, the softness of his curls beneath your fingers, and the image of his peaceful face stays with you as you quickly get ready. It’s a walk of shame, sure—but you can’t find it in yourself to regret it.

-

Chan stretches out on the bed, his hand instinctively reaching for the space beside him. It’s empty, but the faint warmth still lingering on the sheets tells him you haven’t been gone long. The sunlight filtering through the curtains reminds him it’s Saturday—your farmer’s market day.

He sighs, running a hand through his messy hair as he sits up. Saturday mornings are quiet without you. Your trips to the farmer’s market are a ritual he admires, though he can’t help but miss waking up to your smile.

Throwing on a hoodie, he pads into the kitchen. The apartment is quiet, save for the hum of the fridge. He pours himself a glass of orange juice, sipping it while glancing at the clock. You should be back soon.

As if on cue, the sound of your laughter echoes through the hallway. Chan perks up, moving to the door just in time to hear another voice—deeper, smooth, and unfamiliar.

Curious, he cracks the door open. You’re standing there, balancing bags filled with fruits and vegetables, laughing at something the man beside you has said.

“Let me take that,” the new neighbor, Minho, offers, easily grabbing one of the heavier bags from your hand.

“Thanks, Minho,” you say with a warm smile.

Chan’s chest tightens as he opens the door wider. “Hey, you’re back,” he says, keeping his tone casual.

He leans in to give you a kiss on the cheek and you subtly dodge away again by turning your head, beaming. “Chris! Look who I ran into at the market.”

Minho looks up, flashing Chan a confident smile as he extends a hand. “Morning, Chris.”

“Morning,” Chan weakly replies with a faint smile.

“We bumped into each other,” you explain. “And he’s new to the area, so I showed him around a bit.”

“That was kind of you,” Chan says, the words sharper than he intends.

Minho doesn’t seem fazed. “She's got great taste. She picked out the best peaches I’ve ever seen.”

Chan’s jaw tightens as he opens his mouth to reply, but Minho shifts his attention back to you before he can. “Here, let me carry this for you,” Minho says, gently brushing your hand as he takes another bag from your arm.

“Thanks, but I’ve got it,” you reply, though your smile stays warm.

“Too late. Can’t let someone as lovely as you strain herself,” Minho says smoothly, winking.

Chan’s stomach churns, his grip tightening around the doorframe. “I think she’s stronger than she looks,” he mutters, his tone laced with a subtle edge.

Minho turns, a smirk playing on his lips as if he hears the challenge in Chan’s voice. “Maybe. But I’m just trying to be neighborly.” His eyes flick to Chan’s, sharp with a silent taunt, before he turns back to you.

“Well, I’d better get these inside,” you say, oblivious to the tension. “Thanks for helping with the bags, Minho.”

“No problem,” Minho replies, stepping back toward his apartment. “See you around, neighbor.” His voice is light, but as he passes Chan, his shoulder brushes just enough to feel deliberate.

Chan watches as Minho disappears behind his door, leaving the two of you alone in the hallway.

“Nice guy, huh?” you say, unlocking your door and stepping inside.

“Yeah,” Chan mutters, following you in. But deep down, he knows Minho isn’t just being friendly.

As you step inside, you nudge the door open wider, motioning for Chan to follow. "Come on, don’t just stand there."

He steps in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The moment it’s shut, Chan’s frustration bubbles to the surface.

“So,” he starts, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, “why do you always dodge me when I try to kiss you outside?”

You pause, setting the bags on the kitchen counter. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he says, his tone half-playful, half-serious. “I went in for a kiss earlier, and you just… turned away. Again.”

You exhale, pulling a carton of eggs from one of the bags and placing it in the fridge. “I’m just not comfortable with public displays of affection, Chris. It’s not you—it’s me.”

“Yeah, but it’s hard not to take it personally,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

You walk over to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel like that. It’s not about you. It’s just how I feel. I promise it’s not because I don’t care about you.”

He glances at you, his frown softening slightly. “I just… I like showing the world you’re mine, you know?”

You smile, cupping his cheek. “I know,” you murmur, brushing your thumb against his skin, “but in here, you can kiss me as many times as you want.”

His face lights up at your words, the tension in his shoulders melting away. Without hesitation, he pulls you into his arms, holding you so close there’s barely any space between you.

His lips find yours, soft and eager, moving with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. You kiss him back, threading your fingers through his hair, feeling him relax under your touch.

The kiss deepens, Chan’s hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips grow hungrier, and his grip tightens as he starts to lose himself in you. Sensing the shift, you gently pull back, your lips lingering on his for a moment before parting.

“Easy there, tiger,” you tease softly.

He groans, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re killing me.”

You laugh, stroking his hair. “Come on. Let me make you breakfast.”

He sighs dramatically but steps back, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. But only if I get to watch.”

“Deal,” you say, heading toward the kitchen, feeling his eyes on you the whole way.

As you start pulling ingredients from the fridge, Chan takes a seat at the table, watching you with a soft smile. Moments like these remind him why he doesn’t need the validation of public displays—this, right here, is what matters.

-

It’s one of those rare weekends where neither of you has work pulling you in different directions, and Chan insisted on making the most of it.

“Just a normal date,” he’d said, grinning like a kid as he scrolled through movie listings.

Now, as you step out of the restroom, the smell of buttery popcorn fills the air. You spot Chan at the concession stand, leaning slightly against the counter as he waits for the popcorn and drinks. He’s smiling, that warm, dimpled grin you’ve come to adore.

But it’s not for you.

The girl behind the counter, probably a college student, is laughing at something he said. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze lingering a little too long on him. You know that look—girls are always drawn to him like moths to a flame.

You don’t even feel a pang of jealousy anymore; it’s practically routine. Still, you’re not about to let her think he’s single.

Walking up beside him, you clear your throat. “Got the tickets?” you ask casually, your voice cutting through their little bubble.

Chan startles slightly, his grin faltering before he turns to you. “Uh, yeah, got them right here.” He pats his pocket like a man trying to prove he hasn’t lost his wallet.

The girl’s expression falters, and she quickly hands over the popcorn and drinks. Chan fumbles with his wallet, hurriedly paying as if he can’t get away fast enough.

Once you’re walking toward the theater, his shoulder brushing yours, he exhales and glances at you sheepishly. “You could’ve let me hold your hand, you know. Then everyone would’ve known I’m with you.”

You roll your eyes, the corner of your mouth quirking up. “I never said you couldn’t hold my hand, Chris.”

His face lights up with a grin, and before you can react, his hand slides into yours, warm and secure. “You’re right,” he says smugly, giving your hand a squeeze. “You didn’t.”

Shaking your head, you let him lead you into the dim theater, his thumb brushing against yours. As the movie starts, Chan leans closer, whispering, “Next time, I’m holding your hand the whole time, no excuses.”

You bite back a smile and focus on the screen, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. Some things about Chan might drive you crazy, but moments like this make it all worth it.

-

The movie is halfway in, but Chan's attention is barely on the screen. Instead, you catch him watching you out of the corner of your eye. His hand stays in yours, his thumb idly tracing circles against your skin, but his gaze keeps flickering your way.

You nudge him gently. “Chris, the screen is that way. You’re missing the movie you wanted to see so badly.”

He grins, unapologetic. “Yeah, but I kind of regret taking you here now.”

You raise an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? And why’s that?”

He shrugs, leaning closer so his voice doesn’t carry. “If we were watching this at home, I could actually cuddle you... maybe kiss you a little.” His grin turns teasing. “Or a lot.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “This whole thing was your idea.”

“I know, I know,” he admits, squeezing your hand. “But I can’t help it. You’re right here, looking all cute, and I’m supposed to just sit here and watch the movie?”

You glance at him, warmth blooming in your chest despite his antics. You’ve always appreciated how much Chan respects your boundaries. One of those boundaries being your aversion to public displays of affection.

But right now, sitting in the darkened theater with no one paying attention, you’re tempted to bend the rules. You put your bucket of popcorn aside, turning fully to face him. Gently, you cup his cheek, drawing his attention to you. His eyes widen, and you can see the curiosity sparkling in them.

“It’s dark in here,” you whisper, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I think we can make an exception just this once.”

Chan doesn’t need to be told twice. He leans in immediately, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s soft at first, almost testing. But as you respond, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his hand comes up to cradle your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek.

It’s as if he’s been waiting all day for this, and the world outside the theater melts away. The movie becomes background noise as the two of you lose yourselves in the moment.

By the time you both pull back, slightly breathless, the movie is already well past its climactic scene. You glance at the screen, then back at Chan, who looks utterly content.

“We missed most of it,” you point out with a low laugh.

“Totally worth it,” he murmurs, his fingers still entwined with yours.

He leans in again, clearly aiming for another kiss, but you grab a piece of popcorn and pop it into his mouth instead. His lips close around it, his expression shifting to surprise before softening into amusement.

You laugh quietly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Focus, Chris. At least pretend to watch the ending.”

He chews the popcorn, grinning as he leans back into his seat. “Fine, but just know I’m only staying for you, not the movie.”

You shake your head, trying to hide your smile as you settle back beside him. Chan might be incorrigible, but moments like this make you fall for him just a little more.

-

The elevator hums quietly as it ascends, but Chan barely notices. His attention is entirely on you—your hand in his, the faint smile playing on your lips, and the soft glow of the overhead lights casting shadows over your features.

He feels giddy, almost buzzing from the events of the night. The movie had been fun, but honestly, he can barely remember the plot. What he does remember is you, and how you made the entire evening feel like something out of a dream.

Unable to help himself, he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your cheek. You turn your head, meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow, and he grins mischievously.

“So... Your place or mine?” he teases, his tone light but with a playful edge.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Neither. I’m going to my place to sleep because I’m working tomorrow.”

His grin fades into a dramatic pout, his shoulders slumping. “What? No fair. I thought we were having a date night, not a goodnight.”

The elevator dings softly as it reaches your floor, and before he can protest further, you tighten your grip on his hand and pull him along toward your apartment.

Once you reach your door, you turn to him with a sly smile, one that makes his heart skip a beat. “You’re staying at my place tonight, Chris.”

His pout vanishes instantly, replaced with a boyish grin. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

The moment you unlock the door and step inside, Chan pulls you close, his arms wrapping around your waist as his lips find yours in a kiss that’s anything but restrained. All the affection he’s been holding back spills out as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

His hands wander to your lower back, pressing you flush against him, and he groans softly when you respond with equal fervor. The scent of your perfume lingers between you, mingling with the faint warmth of the apartment.

Chan smiles against your lips, murmuring, “I don’t care how early you have to wake up tomorrow. I’m not letting you go.”

And for now, it seems, you’re just as unwilling to let him go either.

-

"Are you going to be my girl tonight?"

Chan's voice is husky, teasing, as his lips capture yours in a deep, heated kiss. He doesn’t wait for an answer—not with the way your body responds to him. His hands glide down your sides, firm but tender, pulling you closer, despite you already being laid bare before him.

He finally breaks the kiss, only to continue down your body, his lips leaving a burning trail on your skin. You're sprawled across the bed, your legs dangling off the edge, and the way Chan looks at you feels like he’s savoring every second.

“I know you like it when I call you that,” he murmurs as he parts your legs, kneeling before you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world. You giggle softly as he places a teasing kiss on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“You are my girl,” he breathes, his voice thick with reverence. “My sweet, sweet girl.”

He punctuates each word with a kiss closer and closer to where you need him most. You barely have time to prepare before he surprises you, tugging your body toward the edge of the bed and positioning himself closer, deeper. Your breath catches as he throws your legs over his shoulders and dives in, his mouth working magic that has you squirming in seconds.

Chan’s skill is unmatched—his nose pressing against your most sensitive spot, his tongue exploring with precision and intent. Your hands find their way to his curls, your toes curling, your body writhing under his ministrations. The sound of your moans fills the room, sweet and breathless, as he pushes you closer to the edge.

And when you finally unravel, shattering in his hands and on his lips, he doesn’t let up. Instead, he lingers, soft kisses marking your thighs, his tenderness grounding you in the aftermath of bliss.

Hovering above you now, Chan takes in the sight of you, your chest rising and falling, your face radiant with pleasure. His dimples appear as he smiles, brushing stray hair away from your damp forehead. He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss so gentle, it feels like a promise.

“Hey,” you tease, your voice light and playful as you encircle his neck with your arms. “Your girl wants you to put it in now.”

His brows raise, his grin widening. “My girl wants it inside?” He presses his forehead to yours, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Now?”

You nod, your sly smile making his chest tighten with affection. “Mm-hmm.”

With deliberate slowness, he drags his lips down your jaw, leaving a trail of heat on your skin. “Only if you say please,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Baby, please,” you coo, and the way the pet name falls from your lips has him grinning, his dimples sinking deep into his cheeks.

Chan doesn’t need more encouragement. He shifts lower, positioning himself at the edge of the bed. One hand holds your leg open while the other guides himself to your entrance. As he pushes in, his eyes lock onto yours, drinking in the way your expression shifts—the way your lips part in a gasp, the way your body arches to meet his.

Fully sheathed, he pauses, his chest rising and falling as he takes in the sensation of you. With a satisfied smile, he begins to move, the angle perfect thanks to the bed’s height. Each thrust is measured, deliberate, his focus entirely on you. Your hands glide over his shoulders, down his arms, feeling every inch of him. They trail lower, cupping his ass with a playful squeeze that earns you a breathy chuckle.

He leans down, teasing you with a slow kiss before pulling back just enough to ask, “Impressed?”

Your gaze is locked on his, unwavering, and you nod firmly. “Very.”

Your moans mix with his quiet groans, the room filled with the sound of shared pleasure. Chan’s eyes never leave you, watching every flicker of emotion that crosses your face. He’s close—he can feel it, and with the way you’re tightening around him, he knows you are too.

“Where do you want it, hmm?” he asks, his voice rough with restraint.

But instead of answering, you pull him into a kiss, hot and heavy, your tongues tangling as if the world outside doesn’t exist. The kiss steals his breath, and the moment takes him over the edge.

With a groan, Chan pulls out at the last second, climbing onto the bed and positioning himself over you. His hand moves quickly, chasing his release as your hands rest on his thighs, your gaze locked on him in anticipation.

Moments later, with a shudder and a raw moan, his release spills over your chest, painting your skin in streaks of white. You gasp softly, the sight of him undone above you leaving you breathless.

Chan collapses onto his elbows, framing your face with his arms. He kisses you deeply, his lips lingering as he brushes your hair back with tender fingers.

“Stay, yeah? I’ll grab a cloth,” he whispers against your skin, his tone filled with affection.

You stop him with a soft kiss, smiling. “Okay.”

After a quick cleanup in the bathroom, he returns to find you sitting up on the bed, your hair swept back, your skin glistening wet in the aftermath of passion. With gentle care, he wipes you down, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

When he’s done, you reward him with a kiss, your lips soft and full of promise. “Thank you,” you say with a grin.

“Time to cuddle.” He eagerly moves to his side of the bed, ready for his favorite part of the night.

You hold a hand to his chest, stopping him from pulling you in. “Hold that thought,” you tease, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I have to pee.”

Chan laughs, watching you saunter off to the bathroom, and admiring how beautiful you are with your skin glowing under the soft glow of your bedroom lights.

“That’s my girl,” he delightfully sighs, his smile full of adoration.

-

Chan is already smiling when you step out of the bathroom, his head resting lazily on the pillow, the sheets pooling around his waist. The way he looks at you, with an easy grin and a softness that doesn’t quite match the image he projects to the rest of the world, almost makes you forget to breathe. But his smile drops the moment he notices you pulling on a t-shirt.

"Hey," he whines, propping himself up on his elbows. “Take that off. It’s illegal to wear clothes in bed when I’m here.”

You roll your eyes, tugging the hem of the shirt into place. “I’m cold.”

“Excuses.” He opens his arms wide, an irresistible invitation. “Come here. I’ll warm you up.”

With a small shake of your head but a smile on your lips, you crawl into bed beside him. He helps you taking the t-shirt off and aggressively tosses it onto the floor after. His arms wrap around you immediately, pulling you close until your head rests on his chest. His hand finds its way to your hair, idly brushing through the strands while his other arm holds you securely against him.

For a while, there’s just comfortable silence. Chan’s chest rises and falls steadily beneath your cheek, and you let yourself relax into the comforting rhythm.

Then, out of nowhere, Chan breaks the quiet.

“Why aren’t we dating yet?”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“I mean, think about it,” he says, his voice contemplative as his hand stills in your hair. “We like each other, right? That much is obvious. And the… uh, sexual chemistry?” His lips curl into a sheepish smile you can feel more than see. “It’s off the charts. So why aren’t we just… together?”

You lift your head to look at him, raising a playful eyebrow. “What happened to the guy who used to hide in my apartment to avoid having these kinds of conversations with the girls he was seeing? Huh?”

Chan chuckles, the sound low and warm. “That guy grew up, okay?”

You hum, pretending to think. “Who are you? And what did you do to the fuckboy next door?”

He laughs outright this time, shaking his head. “He retired. Sold the title. But seriously...” His voice softens as he meets your gaze again. “I want this. I want us. So why not just make it official?”

His earnestness leaves a slight ache in your chest, but you press it down. Instead, you offer him a soft smile, reaching up to brush his cheek with your fingertips.

“I think,” you begin carefully, “that we shouldn’t rush it. Relationships are a big deal, and I don’t want to mess this up. We’ll know when it’s the right time, Chris. I promise.”

He searches your face for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he sighs and nods. “Yeah. Okay. I get it.”

But you can feel the tension lingering in his shoulders as he pulls you close again. You know what’s bothering him, even if he doesn’t say it. Minho. That bold, smug smile. The little comments that he probably thinks are harmless but dig under Chan’s skin like splinters.

And for all his charm and newfound earnestness, Chan is still afraid. Afraid of losing you before he even truly has you.

-

The bed shakes, pulling Chan from the light doze he’s been enjoying. He cracks an eye open, disoriented, and watches as you bolt out of bed, mumbling something about being late. The slam of the bathroom door jolts him further awake, and he groans, dragging his hand down his face.

A quick glance at the clock confirms it—you’ve overslept. Knowing how rushed you must feel, Chan forces himself up despite wanting to stay cocooned in the sheets a little longer. He stretches, yawns, and heads to the bathroom. The sound of water rushing in the shower drowns out any chance of conversation, so he settles for a quick wash at the sink before leaving you to it.

In the kitchen, he moves on autopilot, pulling ingredients from the fridge and setting the coffee machine to brew. Within minutes, the smell of toast fills the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Chan prepares a cup just the way you like it and grabs a plate with a buttered toast before making his way to the bedroom.

When he enters, you’re perched in front of the vanity, expertly applying your makeup in quick, efficient motions. You glance at him in the mirror and flash a grateful smile as he sets the coffee and toast down beside you.

“Thanks, baby,” you murmur, pausing briefly to take a sip of coffee and a bite of toast before resuming your routine.

Chan smiles hearing you used a petname for him and then he leans against the wall, watching you with a fond smile. “Want me to help dry your hair while you do that?”

You glance at him and nod. “That’d be great.”

He picks up the hairdryer and begins carefully running his fingers through your hair as he dries it, making sure not to disturb your makeup process. It’s a small thing, but he loves moments like these—helping you in the ways he can, being part of your busy mornings.

When you’re finally ready, you sit on the bench by the foyer to put on your shoes. Chan hovers nearby, watching as you lace them up.

“Want me to pick you up at the bus stop later?” he asks.

You glance up, slipping your second shoe on. “I’m working on a photoshoot today. I’m not sure when I’ll be done.”

Chan nods, already mentally preparing to wait up for your call regardless of the hour. You stand, heading for the door, but Chan stops you with a light tug on your arm.

“You’re forgetting something,” he says, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

You blink and smirk, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “There.”

Chan laughs, holding up your phone. “Not that, genius.”

Your cheeks flush, and you laugh along with him, snatching the phone from his hand. “Thanks. Again.” This time, you cup his face and give him a longer, lingering kiss, leaving him momentarily breathless.

The two of you exit the apartment together, and just as the elevator arrives on your floor, you step inside, waving goodbye with a rushed smile.

Chan stands there, hands in his pockets, watching the doors close with a content grin on his face. He couldn’t ask for a better way to start his day.

The elevator doors slide shut, and Chan stands in the hallway for a moment, a warm smile lingering on his face. He stretches, ready to head back inside for a quiet, lazy morning. Just as he turns to his door, a voice cuts through the peaceful silence.

"Well, isn’t this a cozy little scene?"

Chan looks up to see Minho leaning casually against the doorway of his apartment, arms crossed and a smirk plastered across his face.

“Good morning, Chris. Or should I call you ‘Neighbor Boyfriend’ now?” Minho teases, his voice laced with mock amusement.

Chan’s grin falters slightly, replaced by a frown. “Morning,” he half-heartedly replies, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Minho straightens up and steps into the hallway, his smirk only widening. “Gotta say, you two are quite the sight. She’s so... composed, and then there’s you, acting like a lovesick puppy.”

Chan exhales sharply through his nose, willing himself to keep his cool. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t I?” Minho chuckles, casually leaning closer. “I mean, I’ve only been here a few days, and it’s already obvious. You’re head over heels, but her?” He shrugs, feigning innocence. “Hard to tell.”

Chan clenches his jaw but forces a smile. “Thanks for the unsolicited opinion, Minho.”

Minho chuckles again, stepping back toward his door. “Just calling it as I see it. Enjoy your day, Chris.”

He gives a mocking little wave before disappearing into his apartment, leaving the door slightly ajar as if to taunt him further.

Chan stands frozen for a moment, hands curling into fists at his sides. He lets out a deep breath, shaking his head as he steps back into his own apartment, Minho’s words still echoing in his mind.

Ugh. So much for a peaceful morning.

-

Chan wipes the sweat off his forehead as he steps into his apartment, dropping his gym bag by the door. His phone buzzes, and he checks the screen to see a message from you:

Almost done with work! Heading to the bus stop soon.

A grin tugs at his lips, and he glances at the time. “Perfect,” he mutters, making his way to the bathroom for a quick shower. He knows you’ll appreciate him being on time, especially after how hectic your morning started.

Minutes later, Chan is freshly showered, towel-drying his hair as he scans his wardrobe for something decent to wear. Settling on a simple hoodie and jeans, he slips into his sneakers and grabs his phone, ready to text you that he’s on his way.

Before he can type a word, there’s a knock at the door. His brows furrow. It’s too early for you, and he’s not expecting anyone else. When he opens it, the sight on the other side is the exact opposite of what he wants to see.

Minho stands there, a sly grin plastered across his face.

“Chris! Just the guy I was looking for,” Minho says, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Chan crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. “What do you want, Minho?”

Minho straightens up, his grin widening. “Oh, nothing much. Just here to show someone where you live.”

Before Chan can question him further, Minho steps aside, and someone else comes into view. His stomach twists as he sees her. Sue.

The familiar face catches him off guard. Sue, with her perfectly styled hair and charming smile, greets him warmly.

“Hey, Chris,” she says, her tone light and casual, as if no time had passed since they last spoke.

Chan’s hand tightens on the doorframe, his mind racing. Of all the people to show up here, Sue is the last person he expected—or wanted—to see.

“...Sue,” he finally manages, his voice clipped. He shoots a quick glare at Minho, who’s now leaning against the hallway wall, looking far too pleased with himself.

Chan forces himself to meet her gaze, bracing for whatever reason she’s here—and for whatever game Minho thinks he’s playing.

-

Chan sets the glass of juice on the coffee table in front of Sue, trying to balance politeness with the unease creeping up his spine. He forces a small smile as she thanks him, her eyes scanning the room before landing on him again.

“Nice place, Chris,” she says, her tone light, her lips curving into a warm smile. “It’s cozy.”

“Thanks,” he replies curtly, sitting down on the armrest of a nearby chair instead of joining her on the sofa. He fiddles with the hem of his hoodie, feeling the seconds stretch awkwardly between them. “So… why are you here, Sue?”

Sue’s expression brightens as if she’s been waiting for the question. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a tie, holding it up.

“This,” she says, a playful tone in her voice. “I believe it’s yours. From that wedding we were at a while back. You left it behind.”

Chan stares at the tie for a moment before taking it from her. It’s familiar, all right—the tie he wore the night they reconnected. He thanks her, though the gesture feels unnecessary. A tie isn’t exactly something worth returning.

“You really didn’t have to go out of your way for this,” he says, placing it on the coffee table.

Sue shrugs, crossing her legs. “I thought it’d be nice to stop by. And I figured it’d give us a chance to catch up.”

She leans back, her gaze softening. “It was such a surprise seeing you again that night. It brought back so many memories, you know?”

Chan nods, his smile tight as he feels her words start to linger in the air. He’s polite but cautious, sensing the subtle shift in her tone.

Sue continues, her voice lowering slightly, as though sharing a secret. “And if we're being honest, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since then.”

Chan freezes, the implication behind her words settling heavily between them. His heart sinks as he realizes where this conversation is heading.

Clearing his throat, he straightens his posture. “Sue,” he starts, his voice measured. “I think I wasn’t clear enough the last time we talked.”

Sue tilts her head, her smile faltering ever so slightly.

“I know what you’re trying to do here,” Chan continues, his tone gentle but firm. “And I really don’t want to lead you on.” He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m seeing someone right now. It’s… getting serious.”

For a moment, Sue doesn’t say anything. Then, her expression shifts, disappointment flickering in her eyes as she processes his words.

“Oh,” she murmurs, lowering her gaze. “I… I’m sorry, Chris. I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Chan interrupts, his tone softening. “Really. I’m flattered, Sue. You have no idea. If anything, I feel like my teenage crush has finally come full circle.”

Sue blinks, her lips curling into a reluctant smile. “Teenage crush, huh?”

Chan chuckles, feeling the tension ease between them. “Yeah. I mean, come on, you were way out of my league back then. And still.”

Her laugh is genuine now, and she shakes her head. “I guess timing was never on our side.”

“Guess not,” Chan agrees, a warmth settling in his chest as they share a moment of mutual understanding.

As the laughter dies down, Sue rises from the sofa, smoothing her skirt. “Well, I should get going. Thanks for the uh... juice and the honesty, Chris.”

Chan stands, walking her to the door. “Take care, Sue.”

She gives him one last smile before stepping out into the hallway. As the door clicks shut behind her, Chan exhales deeply, feeling a strange mix of relief and gratitude. Timing really wasn’t on their side—and for once, he’s perfectly okay with that.

-

Chan’s knuckles rap softly against your door, the sound almost drowned out by the racing of his heart. He adjusts the hem of his hoodie nervously, rehearsing his apology in his head. When the door opens, your bright smile greets him, and all of his words evaporate on his tongue. Without a second thought, he steps inside, cups your face, and kisses you.

The kiss lingers, soft and apologetic, before he pulls back just enough to speak. “I’m sorry about last night,” he begins, his voice low and earnest. “I meant to pick you up, but something—”

Before he can finish, a figure emerges from your bathroom. Minho steps into the living room, his white t-shirt clinging to his chest, soaked through as though he’d just been caught in the rain.

Chan freezes, his words dying mid-sentence. Minho runs a hand through his damp hair, offering Chan a sly smile before addressing you. “Hey, the shower head’s fixed, but it might still leak a little. You’ll probably want to check it later.”

Your smile falters slightly as you glance between them. “Thanks, Minho. Let me grab you a towel.” You disappear down the hallway, leaving the two men alone.

Chan shifts uncomfortably, glaring at the floor while Minho leans casually against the wall.

“Rough night, huh?” Minho starts, his tone far too conversational. “Must’ve been, with your guest and all.”

Chan’s jaw tightens, his gaze snapping to Minho. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Minho shrugs, feigning innocence. “Oh, nothing. Just thought it was interesting helping your friend return your tie. You know, the one you left in her hotel room?”

Before Chan can respond, you return, handing Minho a towel. “Here,” you say with a warm smile. “Thanks again for helping with the shower.”

“No problem.” Minho takes the towel, winking at Chan. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

As the door closes behind Minho, Chan lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His gaze moves to you as you sit down on the sofa, looking at him expectantly.

“Okay,” he says, standing in front of you. “I need to explain something.”

You nod, but your attention drifts almost immediately. Your eyes flicker downward, then linger a little too long.

“Are you listening?” Chan asks, noticing your distracted expression.

You blink and meet his eyes, caught off guard. “Yeah, of course,” you say, though your gaze quickly strays again.

Chan follows your line of sight and catches on, his cheeks flushing as he realizes where you’re looking. “Hey, my eyes are up here,” he teases, a nervous laugh escaping him. “Are you even listening to me?”

You finally snap out of it, sitting straighter. “I am,” you insist, though your shy smile betrays you. “It’s just…”

Chan raises an eyebrow, waiting.

You hesitate, then admit, “It’s hard to focus when you’re wearing those grey sweatpants.” Your cheeks heat as you gesture vaguely toward his lower half. “They’re… distracting.”

The flush on Chan’s face deepens, and he stumbles over his words. “What? These? They’re just—” He glances down, clearly self-conscious now. “I wasn’t—this wasn’t—”

You lean closer, your voice dropping to a seductive murmur. “I don’t have much time before work so…” You let the sentence hang, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “Can we talk about it in the shower?”

Chan’s breath hitches, his brain short-circuiting at your suggestion. The apology he had so carefully crafted is long forgotten as you take his hand, pulling him toward the bathroom.

-

The steamy mist envelops the bathroom as Chan steps in, his heart racing the moment his eyes land on you. Warm water cascades down your body, tracing paths he longs to follow with his hands and lips. He stands there, momentarily stunned, feeling like he’s witnessing something ethereal.

Unable to resist any longer, Chan moves closer, slipping his arms around your waist. The heat of your skin against his sends a shiver through him, and he presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, letting his lips linger on the beads of water glistening there. His mouth trails up to your neck, the salty-sweet taste of your skin driving him wild.

You turn in his arms, your hands resting firmly on his chest. The mischievous glint in your eyes makes his pulse quicken. Gently but insistently, you push him back until his back hits the cool tiles of the shower wall. Chan’s breath hitches as you lean into him, your wet body pinning him in place.

Your lips hover tantalizingly close to his, and he instinctively leans forward, only for you to pull back, teasing him with a sly smile.

“Patience,” you murmur, your voice low and sultry.

He groans softly, his hands finding purchase on your waist as you finally close the gap, kissing him deeply. Chan melts into the kiss, his arms pulling you impossibly closer, the warmth of the water surrounding you both like a cocoon.

You move your lips down to his neck as your hand glides down his front, not stopping until your hand meets his hardening member. He's helpless as you're kissing his sensitive spot and your hand wrapped around his length, and the warm water does nothing but contribute to the rise of the temperature.

As you slowly stroking his cock, you press your mouth to his ear. “Mmh... so big.”

Chan drops his mouth on your shoulder, drinking in the scent and beads of water on your skin. His hand snaking down your back, kneading on your ass cheek.

“Want to feel it getting bigger in mouth,” you whisper and with that, you put your knees down on the bathroom floor.

Your hand keeps stroking his cock while your eyes fixated on him, you tease its head by circling it with your thumb. You begin teasing his tip with kitten licks and you hold his cock slightly upward to land a lick along his length, earning a raw groan from him.

You slyly smile seeing him losing focus of you but you surprise him by cradling his balls in your hand while your mouth starts taking his length. You take and keep on taking his length until it fully disappeared into your mouth.

Chan lets out a deep growl as you close your lips around his length and sucking at it, your tongue feels hot around him, oh... he knows he's about to lose it soon.

While keeping the eye contact, your head bobbing as you pull away and take more of him, twirling your tongue around it, sucking him harder and using your hand to compensate the rest that you can’t take.

Next thing he knows, Chan is teetering on the edge, it's the way you're looking at him, your eagerness to please and just how good you are with your mouth. He tangles his hand in your damp hair, breathlessly he says, “I'm about to cum, baby.”

With your mouth full of him, you can exactly respond to him but ypu blink your eyes, signaling that you hear him. You slowly pull away, replacing your mouth with both hands now, continuing building the tension that's about to burst soon.

You tilt your head upward, watching him falling apart at the seams as you tirelessly pumping him with your hands. A smile tugging at your lips ad you wait for him to come undone before you.

“I'm coming, I'm coming,” he says with a rushed tone.

You close your eyes to brace yourself to receive his load on your face and you gasp as the first streak of his seed lands on your cheek and some more landing on your chin and around your mouth. When you think he's done, another one lands across your eyelid.

“Chris, not my eye!” you grumble with a playful laugh. You keep your eyes closed and freeze, unsure on what to do.

Chan pulls you up so he can help you with it, he collects some water from the shower and gently, he washes your eyes with it and eventually all over your face.

“There. Done,” he announces as he wipes the last of his cum on your chin and gives you a quick kiss on the lips.

You slowly open your eyes and smile at him. “That was fun,” you teasingly comment.

Chan shyly smiles and pulls you close. “I think that was hot.”

Your arms slide up to rest around his shoulders, and you look at him with a playful yet expectant expression. “Alright,” you say with a grin. “I’m ready to listen now.”

Chan blinks, momentarily disoriented, before the memory of why he came over resurfaces. “Right… Sue,” he begins, his voice slightly breathless. “She stopped by yesterday to return a tie I left behind. That’s all it was.”

You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head. “Uh-huh. And why’d you leave your tie at her place in the first place?”

“It was from a wedding I went to, remember?” he explains hurriedly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips. “I didn’t even realize I left it. She just… used it as an excuse to show up.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, leaning your forehead against his. “Chris, you could’ve just told me that. No need to make it a big deal.”

He sighs, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “I know, I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’m not… like that anymore.”

You chuckle, your fingers brushing through his damp hair. “I know you’re not. But for the record, if you get into trouble again, you might want to hide your ties better.”

Chan laughs, his heart feeling lighter as he kisses you again, this time slower, savoring the moment. All his earlier worries melt away under the warmth of your touch and the water cascading around you both.

-

The soft hum of conversation fills the lobby as you step in, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. Your eyes scan the space and quickly land on Minho, standing by the mailboxes, sifting through a stack of letters. He looks effortlessly put together, dressed casually yet sharply, and you can’t help but smile as you approach him.

“Morning,” you say, catching his attention. He looks up, his lips curling into a small, knowing smirk.

“Morning. Shower still working?” he asks, setting the mail aside.

You nod, feeling a bit sheepish. “Yes, perfectly. Thank you for fixing it this morning. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he says with a wave of his hand, as if it were no big deal. Then his gaze flicks to your bag. “Heading to work?”

“Yeah,” you confirm with a small smile.

Minho tilts his head slightly, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes. “Want a ride?”

“Oh, no, I’m good,” you reply quickly, shaking your head. “It’s not that far, and I don’t want to trouble you—”

“Trouble me? Please,” he interrupts, his smirk widening. “It’s literally on my way. Just say yes.”

You hesitate for a moment, but Minho raises an eyebrow, clearly not taking no for an answer. “Come on,” he urges. “Unless you want to be late?”

With a soft laugh, you relent. “Okay, fine.”

The ride starts off light, the radio playing softly in the background as Minho drives. He’s casual, one hand on the wheel, the other draped over the gear shift. It’s comfortable, easy—until he glances over at you and breaks the silence.

“So,” he begins, his tone teasing but laced with curiosity. “You and Chris. What’s the deal?”

Caught off guard, you blink at him. “Uh… what do you mean?”

“I mean, are you guys… serious? Casual? Still figuring things out?” He spares you a quick glance before returning his focus to the road.

You shift in your seat, feeling a flicker of nervousness. “We’re still getting to know each other better,” you answer carefully. “It’s… new.”

Minho hums thoughtfully, and you can tell he’s not convinced. “You sound like you’re hesitating,” he observes, his voice soft but perceptive.

“I’m not hesitating,” you counter quickly, meeting his gaze briefly. “I’m just… being careful.”

“Careful,” Minho repeats, the word hanging in the air. Then his tone turns playful. “Is that because Chris has a bit of a, uh… reputation?”

You can’t help but laugh softly at his bluntness. “No, it’s not that,” you say, shaking your head. “It’s because… I like him. A lot. And I don’t want to ruin this—for either of us. Like I did with my last relationship.”

Minho’s teasing demeanor softens slightly, and he gives you a sidelong glance, a flicker of understanding in his expression. “Ah, I get it. You’re serious about this one.”

“I am,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “I just want to do things right.”

A beat of silence passes before Minho’s smirk returns, albeit gentler this time. “So, you’re saying I don’t have a chance?” he asks, feigning disappointment.

You laugh, the sound genuine and light. “Sorry, Minho. I’m very much taken at this point.”

He lets out a dramatic sigh, playfully smacking the steering wheel. “Chris is a lucky bastard,” he grumbles, though his tone is laced with good-natured envy.

You shake your head, still laughing softly. “He’s… something else,” you admit, warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of Chan.

Minho glances over at you again, his smirk softening into a smile. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re happy, neighbor.”

As Minho pulls up in front of your workplace, he shifts the car into park and turns to you, a teasing smirk already forming on his lips. “Well, here we are,” he says, gesturing grandly like a chauffeur.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say with a grateful smile, reaching for the door handle.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies. Then, just as you’re stepping out of the car, he adds with a mock-serious tone, “But don’t think I’m fixing your shower again.”

You freeze mid-step and turn back to him, laughing softly. “What? Why not?”

“Because next time, I’m charging you,” he quips, leaning back in his seat. “Or better yet, I’ll let Chris deal with it. He can pick up a wrench for once.”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop smiling. “Noted. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Minho grins, clearly pleased with himself. “Good. Now go have a nice day at work. And tell Chris he owes me for this ride, too.”

Shaking your head, you step out of the car, shutting the door behind you. “Thanks again, Minho,” you call out with a wave.

“Anytime,” he replies, winking. “But seriously—no more broken showers.”

You laugh, turning toward your workplace as Minho drives off, his playful words lingering in your mind and leaving you with a lighthearted smile for the rest of the morning. You can’t help but feel a little more certain of the path you’re on—with Chan, and maybe even with Minho as a good friend by your side.

-

The evening air feels warm and easy inside Chan’s apartment. You're perched on a stool next to his DJ setup, your fingers hovering uncertainly over the turntable as Chan stands close, guiding you through the basics. His voice is soft but enthusiastic as he explains how to cue up tracks, mix beats, and create seamless transitions.

“See? Just like this,” he says, demonstrating the movement with fluid precision. His hands brush against yours, and you feel the slight buzz of electricity from his touch.

You bite your lip, pretending to concentrate. “So, what happens when a girl comes into your DJ booth?” you ask teasingly, glancing up at him with a playful smirk.

Chan grins mischievously, his dimples deepening. Without missing a beat, he takes you gently by the waist, pulling you into the open space of his living room.

“This happens,” he replies, starting to sway with you to the beat of the music.

You laugh, a little awkward as you try to follow his lead. “You know I’m terrible at dancing, right?”

“There’s no such thing,” Chan counters, spinning you around playfully before demonstrating a goofy dance move, making you burst into laughter. “See? Now you’re better already.”

Shaking your head, you try to mimic his move, but it’s hopeless. He chuckles and takes your hands, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space between you. “Alright, let’s make it simple,” he says, lowering his voice. “Just follow me.”

Despite the upbeat track playing in the background, Chan slows his movements, leading you into a slow dance. The contrast feels silly and intimate all at once, and your heart beats faster as he gazes at you with a soft, unguarded look.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours, and you melt into the kiss. His hands tighten slightly on your waist, anchoring you as the world shrinks to just the two of you and the music in the background.

When you pull back, you tilt your head and narrow your eyes playfully. “Do you do this with every girl who comes into your booth?”

Chan smirks, his dimples making another appearance. “Absolutely not,” he says smoothly, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. “I’m very selective about who gets into my booth… especially who gets to touch my turntable.” He pauses, his grin turning cheeky. “And let’s be honest, no one handles my knobs like you do.”

Your jaw drops as you laugh at his lewd joke, swatting his arm. “Chris!”

He laughs along with you, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “What? It’s true,” he says with a wink, pulling you back into his arms for another dance, the music now forgotten as the two of you move to your own rhythm.

The music hums softly in the background as Chan’s lips move with yours, his hands firmly holding your waist as the two of you sink into the plush sofa. The warmth of his body against yours, combined with the way he kisses you—urgent yet tender—sends shivers down your spine.

Chan’s fingers trace slow, teasing patterns along your sides as the kiss deepens, pulling you closer. His breath hitches as your hands tangle in his hair, tugging slightly, eliciting a low groan from him.

Then comes the knocking.

Chan stiffens slightly but doesn’t stop, his lips still lingering on yours. When the knocking persists, you reluctantly pull back, breathless. “Chris,” you murmur, your lips still brushing his. “Someone’s at the door.”

He groans audibly, his forehead dropping against yours. “Ignore it,” he mutters, his voice heavy with frustration.

The knocking grows more insistent, and you nudge him lightly. “You can’t just ignore it forever.”

With a resigned sigh, Chan pulls himself up, running a hand through his messy hair as he trudges to the door. He swings it open, already prepared to send whoever it is away, but freezes when he sees Minho leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Chris,” Minho greets with a smirk, his tone infuriatingly casual. “Nice party you’re having. Could hear it from my place.”

Chan narrows his eyes and lets out a sigh. “What do you want now, Minho?”

Before Minho can reply, you appear behind Chan, peeking over his shoulder. “Minho,” you say with a smile. “What brings you here?”

Minho straightens up and gives you a polite nod before turning back to Chan. “I actually need a favor,” he starts, leaning just a little too casually against the doorframe. “There’s this heavy piece of furniture I need to move from my old apartment, and I figured Chan here could help me out. It’s too much to handle on my own.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, clearly unimpressed by the request. Deep down, he’s looking for an excuse to say no, but when you glance up at him with an encouraging smile, he knows he’s already lost.

“That’s so nice of you to ask Chris,” you say warmly. “He’s always so helpful.”

Chan exhales sharply, knowing he can’t refuse in front of you. “Fine,” he mutters, his tone begrudging. “When do you need help?”

“Tonight,” Minho replies, his grin sly and victorious. “I’ll swing by to pick you up in... 15 minutes?”

“Okay,” Chan replies just so the conversation ends quickly.

“Thanks, man.” Minho gives Chan a quick pat on the shoulder before sauntering off, clearly pleased with himself.

Chan closes the door a little harder than necessary, turning to you with a pout. “You know I didn’t actually want to do that, right?”

You laugh softly and loop your arms around his neck. “I know,” you tease. “But I like having a boyfriend who’s nice and kind. It’s very attractive.”

Chan pouts deeper, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t like him.”

You nudge him playfully. “Come on, Chris. We didn’t like each other at first either, remember?”

He crosses his arms, his pout unrelenting. “This is different. I’ll never, ever be in love with Minho.”

Laughing, you pull him into a hug, resting your head against his chest. “Good,” you murmur with a smirk. “One reformed fuckboy is enough. I don’t think I could handle another one.”

He softens under your touch, his arms coming around you as he mumbles, “I told you, I’m not that anymore.”

You lean back just enough to meet his eyes, a teasing smile on your lips. “Exactly. That’s why I’m keeping you.”

He grins despite himself, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, his earlier frustration melting away entirely. He sighs as he pulls away, knowing he has to get ready.

“I'll go get changed.”

You playfully slap his butt as he walks towards his room. “Now, that’s my good boy!”

-

The car ride to Minho’s old apartment is tense. Chan sits in the passenger seat, arms crossed as Minho keeps throwing questions his way.

“So, you and her... it’s serious?” Minho asks, eyes flicking between the road and Chan, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Chan sighs, looking out the window. “How far are we from your apartment?”

Minho ignores the deflection, his grin widening. “You’re dodging the question. Come on, it’s me. You can tell me. Is she ‘the one,’ or is this just a phase?”

Chan keeps his gaze firmly outside, biting back his frustration. “Are we there yet?”

Minho laughs, clearly amused by Chan’s silence. “Touchy subject. Got it.”

When they finally arrive, Chan follows Minho up the stairs, carrying a dull sense of hope that this errand will be quick. Minho unlocks the door, and the sound of music and chatter spills out. The apartment is crowded, with people milling about and laughing loudly. Chan frowns.

“I thought we were here for a table,” he says, glancing at the scene unfolding before him.

“We are,” Minho says nonchalantly, stepping inside and greeting his friend.

Chan hesitates at the door before reluctantly following. Minho is already chatting away, and before long, a drink is being pressed into Chan’s hand.

“Relax,” Minho says, grinning as he sips his drink. “The table’s in the kitchen, but look at it—it’s holding up all the drinks. Can’t exactly take it now, can we?”

Chan’s eyes narrow as he spots the dining table in question, completely covered in bottles and snacks. He exhales sharply, already regretting agreeing to this. “So this is a party. Not a quick errand.”

Minho shrugs, his grin unrepentant. “Two birds, one stone. Come on, have a drink. Socialize a little. You used to be great at this.”

Slumping into a seat, Chan takes a reluctant sip from his drink, more out of necessity than enjoyment. He knows Minho well enough to realize there’s no rushing this.

As the evening drags on, Minho leans back in his chair, eyeing Chan with a mischievous glint. “You ever miss it?”

“Miss what?” Chan asks, his tone clipped.

“The lifestyle,” Minho says, spreading his arms. “No strings, no commitments. Just fun. You were the shit back then. Why’d you give it up?”

Chan takes another sip, avoiding the bait. He knows what Minho’s doing.

Minho smirks, leaning closer. “Me? I don’t get it. Settling down when you could have this.” He gestures around the room. “You’re still young. Still good-looking. You could have it all. Why lock yourself down?”

Chan keeps quiet, his grip tightening on his glass.

Moments later, a group of girls approaches their table, all bright smiles and curious eyes. Minho grins, clearly in his element, and introduces himself—and Chan.

“This is my boy Chris,” Minho says, slinging an arm over Chan’s shoulder. “He’s a legend. Used to be the life of every party.”

The girls giggle, their attention now focused on Chan, who shifts uncomfortably. Leaning in close, Minho whispers in Chan’s ear, his tone low and tempting. “You can have fun, you know. No one’s going to find out. I won’t tell her.”

Chan’s jaw tightens, the words cutting through him like a blade. He sets his glass down, staring at the table. This is what Minho wants—to see if he’ll crack, to see if he’ll slip back into old habits.

But Chan knows better. He’s not that person anymore. And he’s not about to prove Minho right.

-

The moment Chan leaves, you find yourself wandering around his apartment. Though you've been here countless times, something about being alone in his space feels different. It’s like you’re seeing it through fresh eyes—the meticulous way he keeps everything in order, the slight personal touches that reflect his personality.

You run your fingers along the edge of his desk, smiling at the neatly stacked papers and perfectly aligned pens. His living room is spotless, not a cushion out of place. Even his shoe rack catches your attention, with every pair arranged in perfect color coordination.

When you peek into his bathroom, you can’t help but chuckle softly. His toiletries are lined up like soldiers on parade, everything from his toothbrush to his cologne standing in perfect order. It’s so Chan—practical, disciplined, and oddly endearing.

As you wander further, you pass by the laundry room and pause. A small pile of clothes spills out of the dryer. Without thinking, you step inside, deciding to fold them for him.

You reach for the first item, a hoodie you’ve seen him wear so many times before. Lifting it to your nose, you inhale deeply. The scent of fabric softener mingles with the faint, familiar smell of Chan himself—clean, warm, and comforting. An unexpected ache blooms in your chest, a longing for him even though he was right here just hours ago.

Smiling to yourself, you finish folding the clothes and set them neatly on the counter. You glance at the clock, realizing it’s later than you thought, and decide to wait for him to come back. You make your way to his bedroom, lying down on the bed that smells just as much like him as the hoodie did. It doesn’t take long for sleep to claim you.

-

As the night drags on, Chan finally decides he’s had enough. He stands, leaving his half-finished drink on the table, and starts making his way toward the door. The noise and chatter fade into the background as his only focus is getting out of this suffocating situation.

“Leaving already?” Minho’s voice cuts through the din, and Chan turns to see him catching up, his grin still infuriatingly smug. “What’s the rush, man? We haven’t even moved the table yet.”

Chan sighs, his patience wearing thin. “I’m not wasting any more time here. You didn’t need me for this. You just wanted an excuse to drag me into your mess.”

Minho laughs, stepping in front of him to block his path. “You’re so obedient these days. Might as well put a leash around your neck and hand it over to her, huh?”

Chan’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t rise to the bait. “Move, Minho.”

Minho tilts his head, mock curiosity in his eyes. “What’s the rush? Afraid she’ll get mad at you for staying out too late? Or is it guilt because you know I’m right?”

Chan glares at him, but doesn’t respond. Instead, he pushes past, his hand already on the doorknob.

But Minho isn’t done. “You know, relationships like yours don’t last long,” he says, his tone deliberately casual. “Guys like you? You get bored. You might not want to admit it, but I know you, Chris. You’ll start to crave what you gave up. And her?”

Chan freezes, his grip tightening on the doorknob.

Minho takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a mockingly sympathetic tone. “She doesn’t even address the relationship, does she? Never flaunts it publicly. Almost like she’s already bored of you. But hey, maybe that’s a good thing. Makes it easier for you to go back to your old self.”

Chan exhales sharply, his knuckles white as he grips the doorknob. He turns his head slightly, just enough to meet Minho’s gaze. “I’m not the same as you, Minho.”

With that, he steps out, slamming the door behind him. The cool night air hits him, but it does little to cool the frustration simmering in his chest.

As he walks away, Minho’s words echo in his mind, planting seeds of doubt he desperately doesn’t want to acknowledge.

Is Minho right? Would you get bored of him? Would he?

Chan shakes his head, trying to dispel the thoughts, but they cling to him like shadows, following him all the way home.

-

The sound of the front door opening wakes you. Disoriented, you scramble out of bed, brushing your hands through your hair as you hurry to greet him.

Chan steps inside, his jacket slung over his arm and a weariness etched into his features. His eyes meet yours briefly, but there’s none of the usual warmth in them.

“Hey,” you say softly, approaching him. “You look exhausted. Was the furniture that heavy?”

He doesn’t respond, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the back of the couch. His silence makes you hesitate, but you press on. “How was it? Did you—”

“Do you even think of me as your boyfriend?” he suddenly bursts out, his voice sharp and filled with frustration.

The question hits you like a punch to the gut, leaving you momentarily speechless. “What?”

Chan steps closer, his eyes searching yours, his tone a mixture of anger and vulnerability. “Do you? And if you do, why don’t you ever talk about us? Why don’t you ever want anyone to know? Do you want this relationship? Or are you already bored with me?”

You stare at him, completely thrown off by the intensity of his words. You’ve never seen him like this before—so raw, so unguarded. It’s clear something is bothering him deeply, but you can’t figure out what triggered it.

“Do you even want to be with me?”

“Chris…” you begin, but your voice trails off when you see the exhaustion in his eyes.

He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair and turns his back to you, avoiding your eyes. “I’m not feeling well tonight.”

You take that as your cue to leave him alone. Nodding, you grab your things, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Goodnight,” you whisper before slipping out the door.

As you walk back to your apartment, your mind races. What happened tonight? Why was he so upset? You replay his words over and over, trying to piece together what might have caused such a drastic change in his mood. Something feels off, and you can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t just about tonight.

-

The next morning, you find yourself standing in front of Chan’s door, your knuckles poised mid-air. You’ve been replaying last night’s events over and over, trying to make sense of his sudden outburst.

You knock softly once, then twice. On the third knock, you pause, lowering your hand. Maybe he’s still sleeping. He probably needs the rest, you think to yourself, chewing on your bottom lip as you hesitate to disturb him further.

Just as you’re about to turn and leave, the door across the hall creaks open. Minho steps out, his ever-present smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Morning,” he greets casually, leaning against his doorframe as if he’s got all the time in the world.

You offer a polite smile and greet back. “Morning, Minho.”

Deciding not to linger outside Chan’s apartment, you turn and make your way toward the elevator. Minho follows, his footsteps echoing lightly in the hallway.

As you press the button to summon the elevator, you glance at him. “So, did you manage to get that furniture back to your place last night?”

Minho’s smirk widens slightly, and he shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, something like that.”

His vague answer doesn’t sit right with you, but you choose not to press further. Instead, you take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking again.

“Minho, can I be honest with you for a second?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Sure.”

You turn to face him fully, meeting his gaze with calm determination. “I like you. I think you’re a great guy, and I really appreciate how friendly you’ve been. But I just want to make sure we’re clear about something.”

He tilts his head slightly, his smirk faltering just a little.

You continue, your voice steady. “I’m with Chris. We’re building something together, and he’s been working really hard on leaving his old habits behind. I know it’s not always easy for him, but he’s trying, and I want to support him in that.”

Minho’s expression doesn’t change much, but there’s a flicker of something—curiosity, maybe—behind his eyes.

“I’d really appreciate it,” you say, your tone firm but not unkind, “if you could stop… whatever it is you’re doing to him. I want us all to stay friendly neighbors, but I need you to respect that Chris and I are in this together.”

For a moment, Minho doesn’t say anything, his smirk fading into a neutral expression. Then he chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Fair enough.”

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. You step inside, glancing at him one last time.

“Thanks for understanding, Minho,” you say, offering a small smile.

As the doors close, you can’t help but wonder if your words got through to him. You don’t know what exactly happened last night, but you’re determined not to let anything—or anyone—get in the way of what you’re building with Chan.

-

Chan heard your knocks this morning. He was sitting on the sofa, debating whether to open the door. He wanted to. He even stood up, reaching for the handle, but then your voice carried through the door.

You were talking to Minho.

At first, he tensed, expecting some kind of casual banter, but what he heard instead made him freeze. You were telling Minho off. Not angrily, but in a calm, respectful way that had him smiling despite himself.

Chan leaned against the door, listening to every word, and for the first time in a while, he felt lighter.

Now, as the hours tick by, he waits for you to come home. His ears are tuned to every little sound in the hallway, and when he hears the chime of the elevator, his heart jumps. Without thinking, he scrambles to the peephole. There you are, stepping out of the elevator, looking just as calm and composed as you did this morning.

Chan feels a surge of emotions he can’t quite untangle. Guilt for the things he said last night. Gratitude for the way you stood up for him. Relief that you’re still here.

He retreats back to the sofa, sitting down heavily, running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t have a plan. Part of him wants to rush out and hug you, to thank you. Another part reminds him of the way he hurt you last night, and the words that might have planted doubts.

His thoughts spiral until a knock at the door snaps him back to the present. He’s on his feet in an instant, heart racing. When he opens the door and sees you standing there, smiling softly, it takes everything in him not to collapse into you.

“Hey,” you say gently. “Just want to check if you're feeling any better.”

Chan doesn’t respond with words. He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug. His face buries in the crook of your neck, and he breathes you in, letting your presence soothe the storm inside him.

You don’t hesitate. Your arms circle his back, your hand rubbing slow, comforting circles. “Aw, poor baby,” you coo playfully, your voice warm and teasing.

Surprisingly, Chan doesn’t mind. He lets himself melt into your touch, holding you as if you’re the only thing anchoring him. Because right now, that’s exactly what you are.

-

The room is dimly lit, the warm glow of the bedside lamp casting soft shadows as Chan curls into you on the bed. His head rests against your neck, his arms securely wrapped around your waist as if you’re the only thing tethering him. He sighs softly, comforted by your fingers threading through his curls.

Every now and then, you press a gentle kiss to his head, and Chan feels his heart swell. Moments like these are rare, and he’s determined to soak up every second.

You take his hand, your fingers lightly tracing the rough calluses on his palm. “Where did these come from?” you ask, curiosity lacing your voice.

“Deadlifting,” he mumbles, his voice slightly muffled against your neck.

Your eyebrows lift in surprise. “And how much can you lift?”

“Three-fifty,” he answers casually.

You gasp, pulling back just enough to look at him. “Three-fifty? You can lift that much but crumble like a baby from a slight fever?”

Chan pouts, his lips jutting out adorably as he buries his face deeper into your neck. “That’s different,” he grumbles, voice tinged with mock indignation.

You laugh, the sound light and teasing. “Aw, is my big strong man pouting?” you coo, planting a soft kiss on his pout to make it disappear.

For a moment, everything feels lighthearted and easy, but Chan knows he can’t avoid the topic forever. He exhales deeply, adjusting slightly to look at you. “I need to talk about last night.”

Your fingers pause in his hair, and you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, your eyes filled with understanding. “Okay. I’m listening.”

Chan hesitates for a moment before speaking. “It wasn’t about Minho. Not really. I mean, he has a way of... getting under my skin, but that’s not why I blew up.” He takes a deep breath. “It’s me. My fears, my insecurities. I’ve spent so much time trying to change who I was—trying to be better for you—and sometimes I worry I’m not enough. Or that... you’ll realize I’m not worth it.”

You frown, your hand cupping his cheek. “Do you really think that?”

He nods reluctantly. “Last night, when I said all those things... I didn’t mean them. Not really. I was scared. Scared that maybe you don’t see this—us—the same way I do. And I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

You soften, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “Thank you for telling me. And I’m sorry too—for anything I’ve done that made you feel like that. I want you to know that you are enough, Chris. More than enough.”

His chest feels lighter at your words, and he leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

You smile against his lips, wrapping your arms around him. “Always.”

As you settle back into the embrace, Chan feels himself relax completely. The warmth of your touch and the reassurance in your words lull him into a sense of peace. His breathing slows, and before he knows it, sleep starts to claim him, safe in the comfort of your love.

-

The sound of soft breathing fills the room as you glance over at Chan, still fast asleep. His features are peaceful, his chest rising and falling steadily. You carefully slide out from under his arm, pressing your knuckles gently to his neck to check his temperature. It's lower than before, a relief that makes you smile softly. Quietly, you adjust the blanket over him, tucking him in snugly before stepping out of the room.

Your mind races as you head to your apartment. Dinner time is approaching, and you remember Chan once mentioning his favorite comfort food. It’s been a while since you’ve cooked, but for him, you’re willing to try.

Gathering ingredients from your fridge, you return to his apartment, silently letting yourself in. The kitchen is as neat as always, but it doesn’t take long for it to be filled with the sounds of chopping, sizzling, and the occasional clatter of a utensil. You hum softly as you stir the curry, hoping it will turn out as close as possible to what he likes.

You’re so focused on your task that you don’t notice Chan until you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind. His warmth and familiar scent surround you, and his voice, soft and a little groggy, breaks your concentration. “What you doing?”

You glance over your shoulder, smiling at him. “Making you curry. Thought you might want some comfort food.”

His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, and a small smile tugs at his lips. “You remembered?”

“Of course,” you say, turning back to the stove. “But don’t thank me yet—it could be inedible.”

Chan leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms still loosely around you. “I’m thanking you anyway,” he murmurs.

You try to act unfazed, brushing him off with a teasing smile, but the warmth in his voice makes your heart flutter.

When the curry is finally done, you serve it with some rice and set the plates on the table.

Chan takes a bite, his eyes widening slightly as he chews. He grins, shoveling in another mouthful before looking at you with exaggerated enthusiasm. “This is amazing! Like, Michelin-star worthy. No, better!”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re just saying that because I made it.”

“No, I mean it! This is comfort food and happiness in one bite,” he says, still grinning as he digs in.

Watching him eat so heartily makes you momentarily forget your own plate. He looks so genuinely happy that you can’t help but feel a warm glow in your chest.

“Do you like it?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

“Like it? I love it,” Chan replies, his voice bright and sincere.

As he finishes the last bite, you remember something important. “Oh, by the way, I have to go out of town for work tomorrow. I’ll be back Friday.”

Chan’s expression falls into a dramatic pout. “Who’s going to take care of me while you’re gone?”

You chuckle at his reaction. “Minho can,” you tease, watching as his pout deepens.

“I’ll starve,” he mutters, slumping in his seat.

You roll your eyes and lean closer, gently patting his cheek. “You’ll survive.”

As Chan finishes the last of his curry, he leans back in his chair, looking content and drowsy. His cheeks are slightly flushed, probably from the warmth of the food and the lingering effects of his fever. You watch him quietly, a smile tugging at your lips as he gives you one of his bright, boyish grins.

“What?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Nothing,” you reply softly, shaking your head. “Just glad you liked it.”

But it’s not nothing. Not really. As he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand and watching you with those warm, chocolate-brown eyes, something inside you feels steady, sure. This isn’t just a fleeting feeling, a passing infatuation. It’s deeper than that.

In Chan, you see someone who works tirelessly, who loves with everything he has, even when he’s afraid. Someone who has his flaws but owns up to them, who’s willing to grow and try harder. He’s not perfect, but he’s real. He’s kind, patient, and someone who makes you feel safe just by being near.

You reach out, placing your hand on top of his. “You know,” you say softly, your voice carrying a weight of sincerity, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this certain about anything before. About how I feel about someone.”

Chan blinks, caught off guard by your words, but the way his face softens tells you he understands. “Yeah?”

You nod, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “You’re the person I want to be with, Chris.”

For a moment, he’s silent, his expression unreadable. Then, with a shy but radiant smile, he squeezes your hand. “I’m glad. Because… I feel the same.”

The moment feels still, like the world has quieted around the two of you. You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and when you pull back, the look in his eyes is one of pure affection.

“Now,” you say, breaking the quiet with a teasing grin, “finish your curry so I can clean up and start packing for tomorrow.”

Chan laughs, the sound light and happy, and as he dives back into his plate, you can’t help but think that, with him, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

-

Chan wipes his forehead with the towel slung around his neck as he steps into his apartment, still catching his breath from his gym session. The familiar hum of quiet greets him, but his first thought isn’t about the silence—it’s about you.

Grabbing his phone off the counter, he unlocks it with quick swipes, scrolling through to see if there’s a text from you. Nothing. His brows furrow slightly as he opens the messaging app, his thumb hovering over the screen to type. Where are you? he begins, but the sound of a knock at the door stops him mid-sentence.

Setting his phone down, he walks over to the door and opens it, and there you are. Leaning against the doorframe, you look up at him, your eyes wide but glittering with a playful edge. His heart gives an involuntary thump against his ribcage.

“You didn’t text me you were here,” he says, trying to keep his tone casual, though his mind is already spinning at the way you’re looking at him.

You don’t answer right away. Instead, your gaze drops, roaming over him like you’re savoring every detail. He suddenly becomes hyperaware of himself—his black compression top clinging to his chest, the sheen of sweat on his pale skin, the way his grey sweatpants hang on his hips.

“Hey! Eyes are up here,” he teases lightly, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You blink, snapping yourself out of it with a slightly sheepish but unapologetic grin. “Right. Sorry.”

You straighten up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I just came by to remind you—it’s pajama party tonight. Be ready by 9.”

“Got it,” Chan replies with a nod, though he can’t help noticing the way your eyes still linger on him, making him feel like he’s under a spotlight.

You flash him a sly smile, leaning in close enough for him to catch a hint of your perfume. “I can’t wait for tonight,” you murmur, and before he can say anything else, your lips press against his in a slow, lingering kiss.

When you pull away, your eyes sparkle mischievously, and with one last glance—one that travels shamelessly from his head to his toes—you turn and start walking back to your apartment.

Chan leans against the doorframe, watching you go. You glance back just before closing your door, flashing him another teasing smile that makes his chest tighten and his pulse race.

He closes the door with a soft click, leaning his back against it as he exhales slowly. His pulse is still racing, and it has nothing to do with his post-workout adrenaline. The way you looked at him just now—the glint in your eyes, the sly smile, the lingering kiss—was enough to leave him completely disarmed.

He glances at the clock to check how much time he has until he has to go to your place. His lips tug upward in a small smile as he thinks about it. Pajama parties with you were always something to look forward to, a mix of playful banter, laughter, and quiet moments where the rest of the world seemed to fade away. But the way you'd just looked at him… He had a feeling tonight would be different.

“Cold shower,” he mutters to himself, already heading toward the bathroom. "Definitely need a cold shower."

Shaking his head, he pushes off the door and heads inside the bathroom. The memory of your lingering kiss makes his lips tingle, and he absentmindedly touches them as he grabs a towel.

“You’re really gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles to himself, stepping into the shower and letting the cold water wash over him. It doesn’t do much to cool the warmth that spreads across his chest, though.

As he dries off and changes into something comfortable, his mind drifts back to you—your smile, your voice, the way your eyes seemed to linger on him. He can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Tonight, he tells himself, will be another reminder of just how much you mean to him.

And honestly, he can’t wait.

-

Chan inhales deeply before knocking on your door, his nerves already getting the better of him. He tries to keep calm, shaking out his shoulders and muttering under his breath to steady himself. When the door finally clicks open, and he sees you standing there with that soft, welcoming smile, it’s like the air is stolen from his lungs.

“Hey,” you say gently, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hey,” he replies, his voice quieter than usual as he walks into your space.

The scene you’ve set hits him instantly. The lights are dim, candles flicker softly around the room, and the scent of something sweet and warm lingers in the air. You’ve transformed your sofa into a makeshift bed, complete with blankets and pillows, all perfectly angled toward the TV.

It’s obvious you’ve gone all out tonight, and that realization makes Chan’s pulse quicken. He knows where this could lead if he lets it, but he silently resolves not to give in so easily.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you tell him, already heading toward the kitchen.

He nods, sitting on the edge of the sofa and rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to steady his thoughts. You’re just here to watch a movie. Keep it together, Chan.

When you return, balancing a tray of snacks in your hands, Chan smiles at the sight of you—until you set the tray down and shrug off your silk robe.

His throat goes dry.

You’re wearing a silk slip dress that clings to your figure in all the right ways, but what nearly makes him lose composure is the white stockings you’ve paired with it. He swallows hard, suddenly hyperaware of how close you’re standing.

You sit next to him, curling your legs up on the sofa as you flash him a teasing smile. “Ready?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammers, clearing his throat as he fixes his attention on the TV.

The movie starts, and Chan leans back slightly, trying to focus on the screen. But then you shift closer, snuggling into his side, your warmth seeping through his clothes.

“So, how was your day?” you ask casually, your fingers grazing his arm.

“Good,” he manages, his voice steady despite the way his heart is hammering. “Spent most of it at the gym.”

“Is that why you're so tense?” you murmur, your hands sliding to his shoulders. Before he can respond, you’re massaging the knots in his muscles with deliberate care.

Chan sucks in a breath, closing his eyes briefly as he mutters, “I–I'm fine.”

You hum softly, but from the corner of his eye, he notices you’re barely watching the movie. Your gaze is on him, studying him with an expression that’s both mischievous and affectionate.

“This is a good movie,” he says, desperate to break the tension.

“You’re a good movie,” you tease back, your tone light but laced with heat.

Before he can protest, your lips brush against his neck, slow and deliberate. Chan’s breath catches, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as his resolve wavers.

“Focus,” he whispers to himself, gripping the edge of the blanket tightly.

You don’t make it easy for him, planting more soft, heated kisses along his neck, your hands tracing slow patterns over his chest.

Somehow, by sheer willpower, Chan makes it to the end of the movie, though he has no idea what happened onscreen. His thoughts were too consumed with resisting the endless temptations you threw his way.

As the credits roll on the movie, Chan exhales a long breath, his muscles tense from an evening spent in quiet restraint. He feels like he’s been holding his breath the entire time, caught between wanting to let himself relax and staying vigilant.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, standing up and heading to the bathroom.

Once inside, Chan splashes cold water on his face, gripping the edge of the sink as he stares at his reflection. Get it together, he tells himself. You’ve made it this far.

He dries his face, takes a steadying breath, and steps back into the living room. The sight waiting for him freezes him in place.

You’re lying on your side, one arm propping your head up, the hem of your silk slip dress riding high up your thigh. His eyes trail down, catching a glimpse of the garter encircling your leg—a detail so provocative it sends his resolve teetering on the edge.

Chan swallows hard, forcing his face to remain impassive as he approaches the sofa. “So,” he says casually, his voice steady despite the way his heart races, “what movie are we watching next?”

You smirk, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Instead of answering right away, you reach out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him down beside you. Chan lets himself be tugged into the space next to you, your warmth immediately invading his senses.

You lean in closer, your voice low and teasing as you finally reply, “What you’re watching next… is me.”

Chan freezes, his breath catching as your words sink in. For a split second, his mind goes blank, and then he feels the corner of his lips curve into a smile, his carefully constructed resolve cracking just slightly.

“That’s it! I give up,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with a mix of amusement and surrender. He takes you by the waist with force, sending the two of you collapsing onto the mattress.

-

A triumphant smile spreads across your face as Chan finally gives in, his whispered declaration of defeat filling the quiet air between you. Before you can say a word, his lips find yours, urgent yet tender, his hands gripping your waist as if anchoring himself to you. Though you're already straddling him, he pulls you closer, closing any remaining distance as if afraid of letting you slip away.

His lips wander to your neck, brushing soft, tickling kisses that make your shoulders twitch in delight. You can’t help but giggle, the sound light and airy in the warmth of the moment. When his head tilts up to meet your gaze, you gently cradle his face in your hands, his flushed cheeks warm beneath your palms.

“Chris,” you begin, voice steady yet filled with quiet conviction. “I’m ready. Let’s do this. You and me.”

Chan freezes, his expression unreadable for a heartbeat too long. The silence stretches thin, but then he pulls you into another kiss. This time, it’s different—deep, deliberate, and brimming with every emotion he can’t put into words. Your hand presses to his chest, and beneath your fingertips, you feel the frantic, erratic rhythm of his heart.

It gives you pause. You pull back slightly, just enough to study his face. His breathing is shallow now, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Concern prickles at the edges of your joy. “Are you okay?” you ask softly, brushing your fingers along his jaw.

“I’m fine,” he replies, but his voice is barely above a whisper, and it doesn’t convince you.

His heartbeat only quickens, thundering against your hand, and a flicker of panic crosses his eyes. “Chris,” you murmur, your worry rising. You start to slide off his lap, intending to get him some water or give him space, but his arms tighten around your waist.

“Don’t,” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly as he holds you close. His lips part, struggling to form the words. Finally, with a quiet, almost trembling breath, he confesses, “I love you.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice makes your chest tighten. The weight of his words lingers in the air, fragile and unguarded. Suddenly, everything makes sense—his uneven breathing, his racing heart. It wasn’t fear, but the overwhelming intensity of his feelings for you.

Relief floods through you, and you let out a soft sigh, cupping his face gently. “Gosh, you worried me,” you murmur, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. Pressing your forehead to his, you let out a slow, steady breath, grounding both him and yourself in the moment.

Gathering your courage, you lean in and press a feather-light kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Chris. So much,” you whisper, your voice trembling with sincerity.

His eyes search yours, wide and hopeful, his emotions laid bare. As the tension melts from his body, he exhales deeply, a sound filled with relief and quiet joy. You stay like that, foreheads touching, your breaths mingling in the shared stillness.

Gradually, the wild rhythm of his heart begins to settle, syncing with the steady cadence of your own. In that moment, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you—connected, understood, and wholly in love.

-

Chan towers over you, his eyes dark with want as he works with practiced ease, removing each piece of clothing until there’s nothing left but the soft white stockings clinging to your legs. You feel the heat of his gaze, the weight of his admiration, and it sends a thrill coursing through you.

Your lips curl into a sly smile as you meet his eyes. “This isn’t fair,” you say, your voice low and teasing. “Take it off.”

He doesn’t argue. With a grin that makes your breath hitch, Chan reaches behind his neck and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the chiseled perfection of his chest and abs. The sight steals the air from your lungs—it always does. No matter how many times you’ve seen him like this, it feels like the first, like you’re witnessing something sacred.

You sit up slowly, your gaze locked on the hard ridges of his torso. Your fingers lift almost instinctively, tracing the outline of his muscles, the way his body shifts and flexes beneath your touch. His skin is warm, smooth, and alive under your fingertips.

Leaning forward, you press your lips to his abs, soft at first, letting them linger for a moment before moving to the next spot. You taste the faint salt of his skin, the heat of him, and it makes your pulse quicken. His breath hitches as your kisses turn bolder, your tongue flicking out to trace along the defined lines.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you gently nip at his skin, your teeth grazing just enough to tease. The sound is playful, dripping with mischief, and you feel a rush of satisfaction when his body tenses in response.

You glance up, catching his gaze. His smile is tender yet filled with unmistakable desire, his dimples deepening in a way that makes your heart flutter. There’s something intoxicating about the way he looks at you, like you’re his entire world.

You let your lips trail lower, your fingers continuing their journey, savoring every second. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, a silent declaration of your adoration. You linger, taking your time, committing the feel of him, the taste of him, to memory.

And as you feel him relax under your touch, you can’t help but smile, knowing he’s completely and utterly yours in this moment.

You brace your hands against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. With a sudden surge of boldness, you push him down, catching him completely off guard. He falls back onto the bed with a soft grunt, his sly, mischievous grin spreading wider as he looks up at you.

You straddle him, your thighs framing his waist, and his gaze darkens with anticipation. There’s nothing between you now, and the heat radiating from his body only fuels your desire.

“I’ve been dreaming of this,” you confess, your voice low and dripping with intent. “Of riding your abs.”

His brows lift, and his dimples deepen as he lets out a low, amused chuckle. “Yeah?” His voice is a rich hum of approval, laced with arousal. “Then don’t let me stop you.”

He props his hands behind his head, his biceps flexing as he settles back to watch you. “Do whatever you want, baby,” he murmurs, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m all yours.”

You feel a rush of exhilaration as you scoot forward, positioning yourself so that your core hovers above his perfectly sculpted abdomen. Slowly, deliberately, you lower yourself, your wetness meeting the firm ridges of his abs. His body tenses beneath you, muscles hardening, and you gasp softly as the sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you.

Chan flexes beneath you intentionally, giving you exactly what you need, and the friction only heightens the thrill coursing through your veins. You begin to roll your hips, dragging yourself along the hard contours of his body, painting him with your essence.

Your head tilts back as a moan slips from your lips, the sensation unlike anything you’ve felt before. His hands remain where they are, but his eyes follow your every movement, dark and heated, his mouth slightly parted as if he can feel every wave of pleasure you’re experiencing.

“Look at you, baby. So perfect,” he murmurs, his voice strained with desire.

The way he looks at you—like you’re the only thing in the world—makes your pulse race even faster. His chest rises and falls steadily beneath your palms, but there’s a tension in his body, a barely contained restraint that tells you he’s just as affected as you are.

You grind harder, your movements becoming more erratic as your pleasure builds, and the sound of your moans fills the room. Chan watches you with an intensity that makes your skin tingle, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

“That’s it,” he whispers, his tone low and reverent. “Take what you need, baby.”

And you do—letting go of everything else and losing yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of your body against his, feeling completely and utterly alive under his gaze.

-

Your body is a vision before him, a masterpiece of curves and softness that Chan could never tire of admiring. As you settle onto your hands and knees, the arch of your back catches his breath in his throat, the way it flows so naturally into the curve of your hips. He's already buried deep inside you, but the way your body welcomes him only fuels his desire to savor every single moment.

His hand glides down your spine, his touch reverent as though he's committing every dip and line to memory. The softness of your skin makes him whimper—a sound he doesn’t try to hide—his fingers trailing upward until they reach the nape of your neck. Without hesitation, he tangles his hand into your hair, gently tugging to tilt your head to the side, baring the column of your neck for his lips.

He dips down, pressing hot kisses along the sensitive skin, each one deliberate and full of hunger. The way you shiver under him only spurs him on, and he tightens his grip, tugging your head back further. Your lips part slightly, just enough for him to claim them in a rough, demanding kiss, the kind that leaves no room for doubt about who you belong to in this moment.

Without warning, Chan begins to move, his hips setting a steady rhythm that has you gasping into his mouth. The way your body reacts to him, the way you’re already melting under his touch, sends a rush of satisfaction through him. He grins against your lips, knowing he’s in complete control, playing with the balance of gentle and rough in a way that keeps you guessing.

“God,” he groans, his voice deep and strained. “You’re so perfect like this. Do you know what you do to me?”

Your moans grow louder, and Chan feels your body start to tremble. He knows you’re close, and it only drives him to push you further. His lips trail back to your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he murmurs, “Bite the pillow, baby. I’m not holding back anymore.”

With that, he releases your hair, letting your head fall forward onto the pillow. He watches as you follow his command, sinking your teeth into the fabric while your hands clutch the sheets. The sight sends a fresh wave of arousal through him, and he plants both hands firmly on your hips.

Then he lets loose. His thrusts become harder, faster, each one drawing a sharp cry from your lips muffled by the pillow. His grip on your hips tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he drives into you with relentless intensity. Sweat beads on his forehead and runs down his chest, but he doesn’t slow down—not until he feels you clench around him, your body trembling violently as your release washes over you.

“That's it,” he growls, his own pleasure building to its peak. “Let go for me. Come for me, baby.”

The way you pulse around him is almost too much to bear, but he keeps going, determined to give you everything before letting himself fall over the edge. And when he finally does, it’s with a guttural groan, his body shuddering as he pours himself into you completely, lost in the overwhelming sensation of having you in every possible way.

Chan watches as your body shudders beneath him, the aftershocks of your climax slowly ebbing away. He gives you a moment to recover, his hands gently tracing soothing patterns over your hips and lower back. Carefully, he pulls out of you and rolls you onto your back, his movements tender as though handling the most precious thing in the world.

His eyes search your face, concerned yet soft. “Are you okay?” he murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair from your damp forehead.

You meet his gaze with a weak but contented smile, nodding. “I’m okay.”

Chan leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, and finally to your lips. “Good,” he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of relief and affection.

He gives you another moment, letting you bask in the afterglow. His lips pepper soft kisses along your collarbone and shoulders, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, grounding you in the tenderness of the moment. You let out a small, blissful sigh, and he can’t help the smile tugging at his lips.

When you start shifting under him, signaling that you're ready, Chan positions himself between your legs again. He kisses you deeply, his lips molding to yours as if trying to convey everything he feels but can’t say. Then, he enters you once more, this time with infinite care, his movements slow and deliberate.

His thrusts are unhurried, every roll of his hips designed to make you feel cherished. His lips barely leave yours, his kisses deep and consuming. When he pulls back to breathe, he whispers sweet nothings against your lips, his voice a soothing melody.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his gaze locked with yours. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

Your hands find each other amidst the tangle of sheets, fingers lacing together as you share this quiet intimacy. Chan feels something new, something deeper—a connection that goes beyond the physical. For the first time, he feels like he’s truly becoming one with you, not just in body but in soul.

The sheen of sweat on your skin doesn’t matter. The messy sheets don’t matter. All that exists in this moment is you and him, moving together in perfect harmony.

When the two of you finally reach your peak, it’s as if time slows, the world narrowing to the shared rhythm of your breaths and the racing of your hearts. He presses his forehead to yours, groaning your name as you both shatter together, your bodies trembling in unison.

After a long moment, Chan shifts slightly to look at you, his expression soft and full of adoration. “How you doing?”

You let out a tired laugh, your voice teasing. “Remind me to send a thank-you note to your personal trainer.”

Chan blinks, then bursts out laughing, his chest shaking as he collapses beside you. “Oh, gosh,” he says between his shy laughs, pulling you into his arms.

You nestle against him, a playful grin tugging at your lips as you add. “That if my hand can ever grip a pen again.”

Chan shakes his head, still laughing as he presses a kiss to your temple. “I think I’ll keep that note for myself,” he murmurs. “After all, I’m the one who gets to make you feel this good.”

You hum in agreement, your smile softening as you drift into the comfort of his embrace. And as the two of you lie there, tangled together, Chan feels a deep sense of contentment, knowing this moment is one he’ll carry with him forever.

-

The movie is long forgotten, a faint hum in the background as Chan lies sprawled on top of you, his body perfectly molded to yours on the makeshift sofa bed. His head rests just above your chest, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat grounding him. Your fingers weave through his curls, gentle and soothing, while he trails soft kisses across your chest, his lips brushing against your skin like whispered confessions.

He’s elated—completely and utterly elated. The words you said to him, “I love you too,” keep replaying in his mind, wrapping around his heart and filling him with a joy he can hardly contain.

He lifts his head slightly to look at your face, illuminated softly by the glow of the room. You’re so beautiful, so perfect, and it feels like this moment is too good to be true. His chest tightens with emotion, and for a fleeting second, he wonders if he needs to pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming.

“What are you thinking, mmh?” you ask, your voice soft and teasing as your fingers trace his temple.

Chan hesitates for just a moment before answering, his voice low and earnest. “I’ve been thinking about the future. About you being in it. And how… happy that makes me. For the first time, I can’t wait to live that future with you.”

Your lips curve into a playful smile. “Oh yeah? What kind of future are we talking about?”

His cheeks flush slightly, but the words come naturally. “A house. A family. Seven kids. And a dog, of course.”

Your eyes widen, and you gasp in mock horror. “Seven kids? Are you serious? You’d better find another girlfriend if you want seven kids because I’m not doing that.”

He grumbles, a mix of amusement and protest, and buries his head into your neck. The scent of you, the warmth of your skin—it’s all so grounding.

“Too late! You can't back out now,” he mumbles against your collarbone as he possessively holds you. “This fuckboy is yours.”

Your laughter vibrates through him as you wrap your arms tighter around him, holding him close. You press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he feels himself melting further into your embrace.

Chan closes his eyes, sinking deeper into your warmth. For the first time in his life, he feels like he’s standing at the beginning of his happy ending—and he’s never felt so sure about anything.

-

As Chan watches you sitting at the vanity, carefully applying your makeup, he still can’t believe this is his life now. This is his morning—seeing your face illuminated by soft daylight, your focused expression softening whenever you notice him watching. It feels surreal, like the culmination of every quiet dream he’s ever dared to have.

You catch his gaze in the mirror and smile, and Chan’s heart squeezes. He walks over, placing a cup of coffee on the table in front of you, and leans down to kiss the top of your head.

“Thanks, baby,” you say, turning to press a quick peck on his lips before going back to your routine.

As you finish getting ready, Chan busies himself, making sure your bag is packed and you’ve got everything you need for the day. When it’s time to leave, he walks with you to the door.

At the elevator, you pull him into a kiss, your hands resting gently on his chest. He savors the moment, every second a reminder of how deeply he’s fallen for you. When you pull away, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his voice soft as he asks, “Want me to pick you up at the bus stop later?”

You shake your head, slipping a spare key into his hand. “Or you can wait at my place instead.”

Chan stares at the key in his palm, overwhelmed by what it means. It’s not just a key—it’s your trust, your willingness to let him into your life even more deeply. His chest tightens with gratitude and joy, and he leans in for another kiss, slow and lingering, pouring all of his emotions into it.

The sound of a door opening down the hall interrupts the moment. Chan pulls back, turning his head, bracing himself for one of Minho’s sarcastic remarks. But instead, Minho’s door swings open to reveal Sue stepping out.

Chan freezes as Sue says something to Minho, who smirks and leans down to kiss her. The shock must be written all over Chan’s face because Sue looks startled when she notices him.

Minho, on the other hand, is his usual unbothered self, raising a hand in a casual wave. “Morning!” he calls out with a sly grin.

Sue walks toward the elevator, her steps hesitant, and exchanges an awkward smile with Chan. “Hey, Chris.”

“Morning, Sue,” Chan replies with a smile.

“So... This must be the girl you’ve talked about,” she says, glancing at you.

Chan’s cheeks burn as he nods and glances at you. “Yeah. This is my girlfriend.”

You smile warmly, looking between Sue and Chan. “Oh, is this Sue? The one you had a crush on when you were a teenager?”

Chan groans, embarrassed, as Sue’s eyes widen before both you and Sue burst into laughter. Thankfully, the elevator comes and saves Chan from further embarrassment.

“Good taste, Chris,” Sue teases, giving him a wink before stepping into the elevator.

You press a quick kiss to Chan’s lips before joining Sue in the elevator. “See you later!” you call out as the doors close.

Chan stands there for a moment, the absurdity of it all sinking in. His first love meeting his current girlfriend—and laughing together, no less. Added with the fact that Sue is also hooking up with the neighbor he hates so much, Minho. He shakes his head, chuckling softly to himself as he walks back to your apartment, amazed at the twists life throws his way.

Back inside your apartment, Chan locks the door behind him, letting out a deep sigh as he leans against it. He turns the spare key over in his hand, still marveling at how much his life has changed.

The morning had been a whirlwind, but somehow, it left him feeling more grounded than ever. Watching you confidently interact with Sue—teasing him like it was the most natural thing in the world—only solidified his feelings. It struck him that while his first love had been a naive dream, you were his reality, and everything about it felt right.

He makes his way to the sofa, the scent of your perfume lingering faintly in the air. Sitting down, Chan stares out the window, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Life had a funny way of surprising him, weaving paths together in ways he couldn’t have imagined. And now, holding the key to your apartment, it feels like a metaphor for more than just trust—it’s an open door to the future you’re building together.

Chan leans back, running a hand through his curls. His phone buzzes on the table, and he picks it up to see a text from you.

“Miss me yet? ;)”

He shakes his head, grinning as he types back:

“Always.”

As he hits send, Chan realizes he’s not just happy—he’s completely at peace. For the first time, the unknown doesn’t scare him. He’s not caught up in what might have been or what could go wrong. Instead, he’s focused on what’s in front of him and what’s to come.

And he knows, without a doubt, that it’s you.

-

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[punkshort]

Evergreen | Chapter Five: Acceptance

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: It's almost Christmas, so you take the time to reflect on your accomplishments while enjoying the peaceful life you've created with Joel.

Chapter Warnings: language, soft!joel, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food and alcohol consumption, Christmas, so much fluff it hurts

WC: 5.1K

Series Masterlist

"Alright, try some of this."

Ellie set down her spiked hot chocolate on your kitchen counter and stood to take the spoon from your hand. She blew on the soup before sampling a small taste and vigorously nodding her head.

"That's fucking amazing, we should make that a regular item."

You grinned and tossed the spoon in your sink before maneuvering around her to reach the spice rack. Your new house was just a two-bedroom ranch and the small kitchen took some getting used to, but you finally made the rented space feel like home. Although when you and Ellie occasionally found yourselves crammed in your kitchen to test some new products for the food truck, you couldn't help but long for the beautiful kitchen you used to have.

"I think I'll add this and take off the turkey chili, it doesn't do too well," you said before turning to your fridge and scribbling something on the white board. It was close to Christmas and you had already introduced your cold-weather menu for the food truck, but you were always actively looking to make tweaks where it was needed.

"Sarah really likes the chili," Ellie reminded you.

"I'll make her a big batch and divide it up so she can freeze it when she goes back to school."

"Is she helping out on the truck tomorrow?" Ellie asked before picking her hot chocolate back up, then she wandered over to your living room to examine some ornaments on your tree.

"Yeah, she's helping all day. Joel's gonna get a kick out of seeing her on the truck for the first time," you laughed. You checked the time and turned off the burners before lifting the huge pot of soup with a grunt and setting it on an unused side of the stove to cool. Joel and Tommy's crew were working on a retail storefront and you had promised to stop by with the truck for lunch the following day. You had figured it was in a busy part of town and you were hoping to also capitalize on all the holiday shoppers.

Chicks 'n Chicken specialized in, well, chicken, as the name implied, but when the weather turned colder, you realized sandwiches just wouldn't cut it for the winter, so you began to add soups and stews to pair with your signature sandwiches like The Ellie, The Sarah, and The Joel. It was the first big idea you had when you finally took the plunge and started a food truck: every sandwich was named after someone important to you, including sandwiches named after Mia and Daniel.

At first, it was hard. Really fucking hard. Harder than you expected. There was so much to do behind the scenes: bookkeeping, inspections, keeping the truck and your machines up to code just to name a few. Joel was a huge help with the business side of things and you were eternally grateful for his insight. In return, you let him be your taste-tester, a job he adored and took very seriously.

Once you got the boring stuff out of the way, things got much better. You hired Ellie to assist you, and even her girlfriend Dina worked part-time. The two of them painted the truck these gorgeous, vibrant colors and helped you design the menu, and before you knew it, you were up and running.

The first couple weeks were slow and steady. You didn't expect to make much right off the bat, but you would have been lying if you said you weren't slightly disappointed you didn't do more business.

But then Sarah and Ellie came to the rescue, and your entire world changed.

They had clued you in to the latest social media app and helped you create an account. They must have been avid users because they always knew what was trending, which is how you managed to create a video that went viral overnight. It was the three of you doing some silly dance to a song you had never heard before inside the truck. When you watched it, you cringed and begged them to delete it, but they promised it would be a hit. And boy, were they right.

Just a few months later, you were closing in on one million followers. The girls kept your page fresh and relevant and if you were a lesser person, you might have been a little put out that your marketing degree essentially became useless when competing with two girls in their twenties who were apparently chronically online.

But you absolutely loved it. You were beyond thrilled you had been so unexpectedly successful so quickly. It was the best gift you could ever have received, and you told them so every time they pestered you for Christmas gift ideas.

"Your parents coming up for Christmas?" Ellie asked when she spotted a framed picture you had of them next to your couch.

"Uh... my mom is, yeah," you said, dusting your hands on the sides of your jeans as you moved around your kitchen. Ellie picked up on the tone in your voice and swiveled around.

"But not your dad?"

You shook your head and pulled out the biggest Tupperware containers you could find.

"No. He's not thrilled with some of the choices I've made," you told her, keeping your gaze focused on your work so she wouldn't see the hurt in your eyes.

"The food truck or Joel?"

You cleared your throat and shrugged. "Both. He thinks I'm investing Daniel's money in something where I'll end up failing and he is not okay with Joel being a few years younger than him."

"Shit. I'm sorry," Ellie said softly, joining you back in the kitchen. "That's fucked. But at least your mom sounds cool, right?"

"Well, she's coming around to it. It'll be her first time meeting Joel and I'm really hoping once she sees us together and how great he is, she can report back to my dad and maybe change his mind."

"Ha, no pressure, right?" she laughed. You grinned and finally turned to face her.

"You know what? I'm starting to not even care. Is that bad?" you asked with a guilty look on your face. But before she could answer, you continued. "I mean, I'm happy. I'm successful. Joel and Sarah are amazing. Should I even care if they agree with my choices or not? I'm an adult. I don't want to ruin my relationship with my parents but I'm not willing to sacrifice my own happiness for it."

"Hell yeah, man," Ellie said while toasting you with her hot chocolate. "You got the right headspace. Therapy is doing you good."

"Yeah, surprisingly, it kind of is," you said with a chuckle. An alarm went off on your phone and you glanced at it curiously before your eyes widened in panic. "Shit! I promised Joel I'd be over for dinner, I gotta clean up and get the hell out of here." You snatched your apron off and then your eyes locked onto the huge vat of piping hot soup on your stove.

"I'll handle it. Go!" Ellie said, waving her hands. "I'll lock up before I leave."

"Are you sure?" you asked, but you were already backing out of the kitchen.

"Absolutely. I'll watch some movie or something while I wait. Dina's working at the bookstore til ten, anyway."

"You're the greatest, Ellie, thank you!" you called over your shoulder as you disappeared into your bedroom to change.

"How is it you look prettier every time I see you?"

You giggled when Joel's scruffy beard scraped against the side of your neck, then melted into his arms when they circled around you from behind.

"Did you know you left the oven on? You're lucky you didn't burn the place down," you teased, tilting your head to give his lips better access.

"I was just takin' a quick shower, I knew there was plenty of time left."

He wasn't wrong. The lasagna he made still needed fifteen more minutes. Joel had actually gotten a lot better at cooking over the last few months. He liked to give you all the credit since he spent so much time watching you in the kitchen test new dishes for the food truck.

"And look at that," he murmured when he glanced at the timer. "Still got extra time. Any idea what we should do?"

"Are you looking to get dessert before dinner?" you asked, feigning shock. Joel chuckled against your throat before pressing himself against your ass and - shit, he wasn't joking.

"Been almost a week," he groaned against your ear. "Missed you so fuckin' much

"I missed you, too," you whispered before twisting around in his arms. You pressed your lips eagerly against his, getting lost in the familiar way you fit together. Whenever you were with Joel, your soul felt at peace. Everything seemed to make sense again and any stress faded away. But those things were difficult to explain to your parents without sounding insane, so you stopped trying, perfectly content with keeping the happiness he provided just between the two of you.

You blamed your weak resolve on the fact you had a stressful few days without him, craving the comfort only he could provide. That was why you found yourself less than five minutes later straddling his lap on the couch with your jeans abandoned somewhere on the floor behind you. Joel didn't even take his pants off all the way. He had shoved them down to his knees in a frenzy, desperate to feel you again after a long week.

The air stilled when you sunk down on his cock, the both of you too caught up in the feeling to remember to breathe.

"Oh, baby," he breathed, head tipping back to rest against the back of the couch. "Oh, that's it. That's my girl. There you go," he whispered, eyes glued to the way he disappeared inside you. You shifted and a small whimper slipped past your lips, pulling his gaze back up to you.

"How is that? Feel good?" he asked while circling his arms around your waist. You hummed and nodded before you started to move a little in his lap. You went slow at first while sharing deep, messy kisses. The hair from his beard burned your chin when he pried your mouth open wider, tongues swirling together amongst shared moans.

His big hands spread wide over your ribs, holding you against him to feel as close as possible while you slowly rocked your hips. He finally gave you a chance to breathe and broke the kiss, but then his mouth trailed down your throat and you held your breath anyway when his teeth grazed against the sensitive spot he made a mental note of last time.

"Missed you," he reminded you again as his lips ghosted over your collarbone. "Missed this. Missed feelin' this close to you."

"I know," you gasped, hands grabbing at his shoulders when he mouthed at your breast through your shirt. You started to move faster, encouraged by the delicious sting from his bite. "Fuck, Joel, do that again. Please," you whined.

He smirked and did the same playful bite to your other breast, cock twitching inside you when a low moan slipped past your lips.

"You like that?" he pressed. He loved it when you lost yourself in the moment, too engulfed with pleasure to hold yourself back. When he had you like that, you had no trouble asking for what you wanted. Your polite little filter vanished and you allow yourself to be selfish, to take what you want to make yourself feel good, and his chest puffed with pride every single time that you would choose him to be vulnerable with. You chose him to seek out everything you desired. You trusted him.

"Yes, Joel," you rasped. Your head was tipped backwards and your eyes had slid shut as you began to bounce faster on his lap. "Yes, Joel, I love it. I love it. Fuck, you feel so good. I can't - ah! - Christ, Joel, I love you-"

Time stood still with your words sitting heavy in the air. It took you a few seconds to realize what you said, then your eyes snapped open and you slapped a hand across your mouth in shock, hips freezing mid-air.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, staring down at his surprised expression. "I didn't mean for that to be the first time-"

"But you did mean it?" he asked, stopping your muffled ramblings. Slowly, you nodded with watery eyes. He yanked your hand off your mouth and pulled you down for a searing kiss.

"I love you, too," he whispered happily against your mouth. His hips began to rock up into you, encouraging you to move with his hands firmly on your waist. "Keep going. Want you to come for me," he said with a grunt, lips still hovering centimeters away from yours. You nodded and began to move again, chasing the release you were moments away from tasting before you had panicked and stopped.

"C'mon, make yourself feel good. Take what you need, baby," he groaned when you bounced faster, breasts swaying underneath your shirt right in front of his face, teasing him. He lunged forward and pinched your nipple between his teeth right when his thumb began to work quick circles over your clit. You cried out his name, fingers clawing at his shoulders until he finally heard that content little broken moan and your release slowly trickled down his cock.

"Shit - gonna come," he growled. His hand left your clit so he could wrap both arms tightly around your middle, using you for leverage as he roughly fucked up into you. You had sagged forward, head resting on his shoulder while placing sweet kisses against his throat. You heard his harsh pants for air in your ear and smiled at the soft noises he made right before he stilled with a loud groan, pumping you full of his seed until his shoulders relaxed and he leaned back tiredly against the couch.

Your hand snaked around the back of his neck, turning his face towards you for a lazy kiss before whispering I love you one more time.

"I love you so goddamn much," he sighed, making you giggle. You pushed yourself up with a sigh, feeling groggy and satiated. You were in the middle of lovingly tracing the creases next to his eyes while he gazed up at you when the timer on the stove went off. You both groaned, neither of you ready to pull apart just yet, but the last thing you wanted was the smell of burnt lasagna permeating the house for the rest of the evening. With a gasp, you lifted yourself from his lap and turned to hunt for your panties on shaky legs.

"Go clean up, I got it," Joel said, standing and pulling his jeans up the rest of the way. You nodded and waddled towards the bathroom with your clothes while he tended to your dinner in the kitchen.

"So, you're comin' by the site tomorrow?" Joel confirmed around a mouthful of food. You nodded, only half listening to the television, your brain still blissfully quiet from earlier.

"Yep. Then after I'm meeting with this woman from the paper. They want to run a small piece on the truck, talk about the viral stuff, all that."

"My girl's gonna be in the paper?" Joel asked excitedly. You laughed, wanting to tease him for being one of the few people who still read an actual newspaper, but his support for you and your dream was so sweet that you didn't want to ruin it.

"Yep. Maybe even a picture, too."

"Well, damn. Look at you," Joel said softly, and you smiled at the tender look in his eye. "Gonna be famous. Can't wait to frame it. I'mma put one in my office at work and one here," he told you matter of factly. He pointed to the mantle, currently adorned with garland and christmas lights, where an old picture of him, Sarah and Mia sat, along with a picture of Tommy and Maria from their wedding day.

"I get to be on the mantle?" you asked excitedly.

"'Course you do. Woulda been up there sooner if we ever took a decent picture together."

"We take tons of pictures together," you began, but he quickly waved you off.

"And in all of 'em I look like shit."

"You do not! You look better than me most of the time with that goddamn smirk of yours," you teased, pinching his side when you added, "and you've lost almost twenty pounds."

Joel just laughed and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, taking your plate and stacking it with his before turning his attention towards the television. His thumb drew mindless circles over your arm and you listened to the peaceful, steady beat of his heart with your ear pressed against his chest.

Closing your eyes, you breathed deep and thought back on your life from the past several months. You had some curveballs thrown at you, sure, but given the circumstances, you were pretty damn happy with where you ended up: curled up next to the man you loved, listening to him mumble the wrong answers to Jeopardy amongst the twinkling lights from the Christmas tree.

"Howdy, girls!"

"Hey, Uncle Tommy!" Sarah called down from the window of the food truck. He grinned at her crooked black cap stitched with your company's name and logo on the front. Wild little pieces of hair stuck out from underneath, framing her face which was dusted with flour.

"Looks like you're workin' hard," he said, waving when he spotted you hurrying by behind her.

"It's crazy busy! We've been moving non-stop since we parked!" she exclaimed.

"Well, get ready, 'cause I just brought twenty hungry construction workers," he replied while jutting his chin down the sidewalk where his crew had been carefully walking around piles of snow that had been packed down and pushed around by the feet of holiday shoppers.

"Good timing, 'cause we just got through the lunch rush," she said before straightening up and turning to you and Ellie. "Hey, guys - my dad and his crew are on their way! Want me to drop some chicken in the fryer?"

"Yeah, toss in a tray of breasts and a tray of tenders to get us started," you said, wiping your hands on your apron before turning to Ellie. "And-"

"Yeah, I know, I got the bread out of the oven already."

You grinned and turned to give the three soups of the day a quick stir and did a quick check on the stock of paper products, confirming you were in a good enough spot to take on another wave of business when you heard a woman's voice call your name from the sidewalk, stopping you in your tracks. When you saw it was the reporter you had promised to meet with for the write up she was going to put in the paper, you felt your heart sink.

"Carmen, hi! We're getting another rush, I'm so sorry!" you said while leaning through the window to shake her hand. "Can I get like, twenty minutes?"

"Of course!" Carmen replied. "I have some shopping to do anyway, take your time."

You were in the middle of expressing your thanks when the truck was suddenly bombarded with Joel and Tommy's crew, their deep voices laughing and talking over one another while Ellie began to take some orders at the register. Before you got back to work, you spotted Joel and excitedly waved him over.

"Hey," you grinned as you practically hung half your body out of the window to grab his face and pull him in. He chuckled and leaned up to kiss you, his cold lips pressing against yours and urging them apart so he could slip his tongue inside your mouth.

"Hey! People are tryin' to eat!" Tommy laughed while playfully swatting at Joel's shoulder. You both laughed and pulled apart, too giddy and love drunk on each other to care.

"You're cold," you said after you pulled yourself back inside the truck. "Do you want some coffee?"

"Yes, please," Joel replied, eyes glittering with pride as he watched you move around the truck. When you stretched forward to hand him the cup, you winked and said, "On the house."

"How's the job going?" you asked as you worked on slicing up the bread Ellie had pulled from the oven. Tickets fluttered in front of you and Sarah gave Joel a big smile and wave when she dropped off chicken fresh from the fryer.

"Alright. Glad we're workin' inside today but place ain't rigged for heat yet so we're makin' do," he replied, taking a sip from his cup. "How's business?" he asked, nodding towards the truck. His eyes drifted fondly over the front where you had printed out the menu in huge letters. Every time he saw his daughter's or his wife's names, his throat tightened. You didn't have to name dishes after them, but you did. Practically insisted on it. It made him emotional back then and it continued to make him emotional whenever he saw it.

"Great! I was hoping to capitalize on holiday foot traffic and boy, did I."

Your eyes were glued to your work, chopping and slicing, making sandwiches and wrapping them in paper while scooping out soup from the huge vats behind you and bagging everything with ease.

You were in your element. This was what you were meant to do.

"Joel! Did you order yet or what?" Ellie called from the register.

"He always gets the same thing," Sarah reminded her with a playful hip check. Ellie rolled her eyes and stifled her grin.

"Oh, yeah, duh. You," she said, narrowing her eyes in your direction. You felt your cheeks warm and you smiled but kept your focus on your work.

"You don't always have to order my sandwich, you know," you teased him.

"Now how can you blame me when you taste so damn good?" Joel smirked from the sidewalk, instantly eliciting a groan of disgust from each of the girls.

"He means the sandwich!" you laughed, feeling all flustered and praying your embarrassment didn't show.

"Do I?"

"Joel!" you hissed with wide eyes as Sarah called him gross and Ellie covered her ears. He threw back his head and laughed while you shook your head with a permanent smile stretched across your face.

This is true happiness, you thought. This feeling could never be topped.

Once Joel and his crew ate and slowly disappeared back down the street towards the storefront they were working on, you washed your hands and checked your reflection before stepping out of the truck with your coat draped over your arm. You glanced around the now mildly crowded street, searching for Carmen and smiling when you locked eyes with her a few doors down carrying a couple shopping bags.

"Perfect timing," you said when she was within hearing range. "Thanks again. My boyfriend is working around the corner and brought his entire crew."

"No apology necessary," she replied warmly, then glanced around with a shiver. "Mind if we pop into this coffee shop? Shouldn't take more than half an hour."

You happily agreed and followed her inside the warm café, breathing in deep the scent of cinnamon and smiling to yourself when you heard the faint sound of Christmas carols filtering through the speakers.

Carmen wasted no time. She dove right in, asking you how you came up with the idea for the food truck and then segueing right into the viral video Ellie and Sarah created that got you such a cult following. You explained that Ellie was a friend, leaving out how you met for her own privacy, and how Sarah was Joel's daughter.

"I'm noticing these names are familiar," Carmen said with a smile.

"Yeah, I named sandwiches after important people in my life. It felt like a sweet way to honor them and express my gratitude," you explained. Carmen hummed and reviewed her notes, phone recording quietly on the table between you.

"May I ask, then, who are Mia and Daniel?"

You cleared your throat and gave her a brave smile.

"They're no longer with us," you began. Softly, Carmen murmured, oh, I'm sorry, while scribbling something on her notepad. "It's okay. Daniel was my fiancé. He passed away over a year ago from a car accident. And Mia was Sarah's mom."

Carmen nodded thoughtfully as she continued to write.

"Oh, so you knew Sarah's mom, too?"

"Well, no," you said, "but based on how much Sarah and Joel have told me, it feels like I've met her."

"That's sweet," Carmen said, letting her pen drop on her notepad. "And these sandwiches - do they reflect anything significant about the people they're named after?"

"They do," you replied while straightening in your chair. "I tried to make the sandwiches based on each person's preference. For instance, Mia loved spice, so hers is a fried spicy chicken sandwich with chipotle mayo. Which I find hilarious because neither Joel or Sarah can handle any amount of spice," you said with a soft laugh.

Carmen nodded and laced her fingers together.

"And how about the sandwich named after you?"

"Well, that was the very first one we created and decided should be on the menu," you said. "I hadn't even thought about names yet but the girls convinced me I should name it after myself and I guess they've got a knack for persuasion."

Carmen laughed and you felt your shoulders relax a bit, not even realizing you were tense until that very moment.

"Well, it's incredible, I must say. I was sneaky last week and got one for myself when you were out on Brunswick."

You gasped, feigning dismay and making her laugh.

"Thank you, I'm so happy to hear that," you replied with a wide smile. "It happens to be my boyfriend's favorite, too."

"Joel doesn't order The Joel?" she asked, cocking her eyebrow.

You shook your head and tried to forget his earlier comment when you said, "Guess not. But he helped design The Joel. In fact, he also helped with The Mia. Sarah did, as well."

"That's so lovely to hear," Carmen said softly, pressing her lips together and leaning forward. "I think it's such a wonderful detail, by the way. How the two of you came from relationships that ended in tragedy and managed to find peace and happiness with one another. And to honor your partners in this way is incredible."

"Thank you," you answered. Your chest warmed at her compliment. "Even though I never met Mia, she was important to the people I love the most, and therefore, she's important to me. Joel and Sarah feel the same about Daniel. Grief is a complicated thing, but I like to think I've found a way to live beside it."

Carmen smiled and dropped her gaze to the table. "That's so comforting and reassuring to hear. And an incredible quote to leave me with because it looks like our time is up."

"Quote?" you asked with a tilt to your head.

"I usually like to run a quote from my subject as my byline," Carmen said while she packed up her things. She began to stand and you stopped her.

"Wait - could I give you something else to put as your byline instead?"

She grinned and sat back down before pulling out her phone and pressing a button.

"Of course."

One Week Later

"You nervous 'bout your mama comin' up?" Joel asked, tugging you closer to his side as you walked up the snowy sidewalk.

"A little," you admitted. "But whatever she ends up thinking doesn't matter. I love you, Joel," you said, tilting your chin up to meet his eye. "I love you and nothing is ever going to change that."

He smiled and gave your lips a quick peck as you rounded the corner, closing in on the nearest grocery store.

"Well, back in my day, I used to be a big hit with a girl's parents."

"Oh, yeah?" you teased.

"Yep. They all loved me. I'm real respectful, you'll see."

You wanted to tell him to just be himself and to not stress about your mother's visit, but you knew there was no use. He was going to do everything possible to win your mother over and while you found it admirable he cared so much, you didn't want him to feel like he needed to make your parents come around. In your several talks with Ryan in therapy, you had come to the conclusion that nobody's approval was needed for you to be happy. It would be nice, sure. It would make holidays and special occasions easier. But nothing was going to change anything between you and Joel.

"Alright, now. Here we go," Joel said excitedly when the automatic doors slid open and you were met with a blast of warm air. You grinned and squeezed his arm while letting him drag you towards the newspapers and magazines. You both scanned the rows of periodicals before Joel spotted it first and grabbed the whole stack. He handed you the extras and eagerly flipped through the pages of the one on top before he paused with a slow smile.

"What? How does it look? What picture did she-"

You cut yourself short when you peered over his shoulder. Your breath hitched and you caught Joel's eye before looking back at the page.

Unbeknownst to you, Carmen and grabbed a quick shot of you leaning out of the food truck to kiss Joel. You were both smiling as snow lightly fell around you, the background highlighted by twinkling Christmas lights and laughing holiday shoppers. It looked like a photograph straight out of a movie: two people finding a quick moment for love in the midst of a busy street.

"You think that's a good enough picture of the two of us?" you asked, looking up at him adoringly, but his focus was on the byline. His eyes kept scanning the words over and over until you swore you saw tears begin to cloud his vision.

"You like it?" you found yourself whispering. He swallowed and nodded, bottom lip quivering before he let the paper drop to his side so he could cup your jaw and pull you in for a kiss.

"I love you," he murmured.

"I love you, too," you said softly against his lips. He gave you one more kiss before he sniffled and opened the paper again so he could reread the words:

This was all made possible because of Daniel, who taught me what true love is, and because of Joel, who showed me love during my darkest days - I owe you everything.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[fionajames]

i forgot to do this! tysm for the tag way !!!

uhmmmm if we're talking fic-fics, about 7, but i write more one shots, and that would be over a few dozen :3

i just tried writing nicer, with better flow

i typically write most for star wars, but the life series smp hyperfixatino came back and ive done a lot of stuff for that too!!!

uhmm probably 6 or so

a lot actually, so ill list some of my favs rn. grumbo, scarian, ranchers, flower husbands, anidala, caitlyn x vi, codywan, and jyn x cassian

i love grian's lore character, and crosshair did not capture my heart but ive seen him in a new light so-

arcane!!!!! and life series, ive never written for it before

all of them probably

my au ones when i had no pressure in writing them

chapters of one of my really long fics, its no where near done but each chapter was a couple thousand words

probably the one that was really long, it was hard and painful to grind out

the ones i really enjoyed

my shortest would have been a one shot somwhere, and my longest is the long fic. its only 4 chapters and 40,811 words

lots and lots and lots of noah kahan, and other things depending on the genre and mood

probably a zombie apocolypse fic im writing.

a fic called 'track four', which is the zombie apocolypse one

'The week the world ends seems to last forever. It’s a whirlwind of emotions, of twists and turns and pains. The days ache and stretch, sunrise to sunset, long hours of sunlight and empty hours of night.'

'He was aware of the message as it hummed in the air, surrounded by nonexistent howls and screams and cries. He was aware of the pain on his face and the IV connected to his arm. He was aware of the voices around him, although unintelligible with the pounding of the roars.  Tears was aware that he had survived.'

“So, Tears, what’s been bothering you?” “The past, sir.” “And what happened in your past to haunt you now?” “There was an attack, sir.” “And what happened to you during the attack?” “I was attacked.” “And what else happened?” “I don’t know what you're talking about.” “You know exactly what I mean.” “It wasn’t my fault.” “But do you believe that?” “It wasn’t my fault." “It’s okay, I understand. Do you blame yourself?” “It was my fault. I blame myself, of course I do! Because it was my fault!” “It wasn’t your fault, Tears. None of it was.”

i dont really write funny stuff :/

i cant think of anything

i do my writing on google docs, and most of the planning on paper

probably getting my short story published

not really

took some time to let my brain come up with ideas without trynna force em

most of my stuff is fanfiction

i didnt do any, cause im lazy

uhhhhhh- my dog

i dont have a to do list ngl :)

MOREEEEEEEEE

tysm for the tag @waywardsou2

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[bonefall]

with how little relevance characters often have outside their introduction arc, its genuinely WEIRD how relevant tree constantly is. which is an odd criticism because characters should remain relevant after being established but in warriors it feels like blatant favoritism. i dont even dislike treee and i liked him a lot in tbc but its ODD

Mr. Gas Leak has a very distinct feeling (an odor, if you will) to me. It feels like he became so relevant because people were frustrated that he wasn't doing the Very Special Job they'd invented just for him back in AVoS, so the writing team tried to "respond to criticism" by making him show up all the time.

But like... that wasn't really the heart of the criticism. It wasn't a clamor to bring back Tree specifically. It was frustration that they would set up worldbuilding elements and then forget about them when they became inconvenient.

SkyClan's return, negotiator role, the border guard between the DF and StarClan, voting to oust a leader. We've gotten at least one (sometimes multiple) additions that threaten to shake up the status quo in every modern arc-- and then they're forgotten about or not used to their full potential.

In honesty though, the more he appears, the more I actively dislike him. I thought he was cool at first, I enjoyed the idea that SkyClan was going to bring some new dynamics to the politics at the lake. But every role he's had since his introduction has been insufferable.

I HATED how he absolutely refused to do his job in Squilf's Hope because of personal bias

I can't stand how the Sisters have been willing to help the Clans after their treatment in that book, and the constant narrative derision they get in spite of that

The fact everyone just forgot Tree existed in ASC until Nightheart said something was astonishingly bad writing. If I forgot about a major worldbuilding element like that I would be genuinely embarassed, not cutely lampshading it

Even the way he ended up "helping" when the narrative remembered him was annoying. Like, "Oh right! Having this role just grinds the action to a screeching halt! Instead of the Battle Cats doing Battles, they argue offscreen about things! Wow, this was a terrible idea to begin with!"

There are waaaay worse characters in WC, and I can't bring myself to hate him the same way I hate some others like Gray Wing. But boy, he has found his way down my list of "least liked WC characters."

[issysh3ll]

i'm on my period rn and i just ran out of pads 😭 could you pretty please write what Phases Matt would do to help me?

Yes of course!

Summary: Matt helping you when you run out of pads Warnings: mentions of blood (period), fluff Phases series -> here | Phases asks/requests -> here

You've been sitting here for so long your hips are starting to feel stiff. The cold porcelain of the toilet seat has warmed under your thighs and the tiles under your feet are the same. Your underwear discarded on the ground stares up at you, very obviously missing something.

A soft knock on the door sounds through the bathroom followed by Matt's voice on the other side, "you've been in there a while... everything okay, sweetheart?"

When you don't respond, Matt knocks again a little harder. You knew this would happen eventually, he was waiting for you in the kitchen while you went to the bathroom. But a quick toilet trip turned into a big problem very quickly and now your boyfriend has been patiently waiting for over 5 minutes. After a long pause, you finally call back

"I'm fine I just—" you trail off. This wasn't how the day was supposed to go. You were going to have a good day, you were excited about your little day out with Matt but excitement faded as soon as you looked down and saw the blood dripping out of you into the toilet, staining the water a bright red colour. You let out a breath and start again, "I'm fine. I just got my period."

"oh." There's another long pause and you think he's left but then you hear the door handle rattling and his voice cuts through again. "Do you need me to get you something?"

You glance around the room, you'd already searched through the cabinet to your left for pads and come up empty. One more scan of the room tell you you're going to have to let Matt help you. "Um, yeah. I don't have any pads. Can you go buy some for me?"

"Of course, i'll be back in 20 minutes." he calls back. You hear some shuffling and then the sound of the front door closing. Sitting on the toilet, free bleeding for 20 minutes is really not your idea of fun so you pull out your phone.

About 10 minutes into mindlessly scrolling, a text pops up from Matt.

Laughing, you return to your distractions while you wait for Matt to return. After another 10 minutes, the door handle rattles again.

"I'm back. Open up."

You pull yourself up off the toilet stiffly and awkwardly shuffle to the bathroom door. Your knees are turned in and bent slightly, trying to stop the blood from dripping onto the floor. Flicking the lock undone, you twist the handle and Matt pushes into the room holding several colourful packs of pads.

"I got options." he declares, a proud grin on his face as you sit back on the toilet again and reach for the blue pack in his hand. Once the pad is safely stuck on your underwear and resting against your body, you push up from the toilet and smile at your boyfriend.

"Thanks, baby."

"Anytime, princess."

Phases series -> here Phases asks/requests -> here

[mayakern]

If you don't mind sharing, what happened to vanetta's ex Edmund and his new saintess gf?

oh boy, so, a LOT has happened here so BUCKLE UP.

(and here’s a picture of vanetta for context for the maybe 2 other ppl who will read this huge post, which i have tried to summarize)

TLDR: after vanetta “died” and was yeeted into time travel, edmund died and charlotte saved the world. but edmund got brought back… and he came back wrong.

but the full story is so much weirder than that:

the core conceit of this game is that we are time (and place) hopping every time the party levels up, and mostly this is pretty normal—someone who’s from an ancient time visits a future date and finds out their country no longer exists, someone from the future goes to an earlier time and is shocked by the severely lacking technology, etc etc

except for vanetta, who is not from the past or future. she is from a book series. and she has JUST discovered this.

our most recent time hop has taken us to a dystopian capitalist future that takes place in a big mall in outer space (think a combination of tron, zenon: girl of the 21st century, wall-e and other similar media), where our wizard comes from.

and as soon as we materialize there, vanetta is recognized as a “really high quality and authentic cosplayer” of, well. herself. the book series she is from (the briar path) is popular on a level that basically combines twilight, harry potter and the bible all in one. it is fantastically popular, but also pretty old, and also is continually getting remakes and re-releases and right now they are currently making a manga adaptation of it. and it has a very active fanbase that writes a lot of fan fiction. this is, somehow, incredibly plot relevant.

an npc shows vanetta the comic, which currently i think covers 2 of the books in the series, and it shows her being depicted as basically your typical shallow, unsympathetic villainess character. and it depicts her death: the moment when, on the ramparts of the palace she was meant to preside over, she is faced with an angry mob seeking her death on one side and the crown prince (edmund, her former fiance) and charlotte (the saintess, his new woman, who in the fiction of the book was isekai’d into the world of the briar path) on the other side. vanetta climbs onto the rampart and makes a big impassioned speech (aka a villain monologue) about how pathetic and horrible they all are and when charlotte makes a swipe at her, vanetta chooses to let it unbalance her, forcing charlotte to live on with the guilt of her death.

only, the real vanetta doesn’t die. she gets yeeted out of time and space with three other time travelers. and our story continues

anyway, back to present day, the manga adaptation has just reached the part of the series where edmund dies—something vanetta did not know about. but just because he died in the book doesn’t mean he died in real life.

see, edmund had some pretty devoted fans. and one of them, who thought edmund was robbed by the narrative, got into some ancient, evil magics and combining this with the immense power of FAN FICTION, he tried to bring edmund out of the novel and into real life, and in the process ended up fusing with him and also with a force called The Hunger, a roiling miasma of despair that was the ultimate evil in the novels.

and so they all fused together and became a new thing. a god. in fact, our yuan-ti paladin’s snake god. who uhh subjugates and eats all non-snake people. the creation of this god also uhh was a huge cataclysm that basically started the earth apocalypse that lead to everyone ending up in the sky.

vanetta has JUST managed to secure annotated copies of the entire series that include academic commentaries and notes on historical context and the first chance she gets she is reading them so hopefully i’ll get more info soon lol

[thechthonicherbalist]

Lestat really deserved this after all the hurt Louis inflicted on him. Even if it was because Louis was lied to and manipulated by Armand. Of course the hurt between those two became monstrous. Of course they wronged each other. But why? Because Louis thought it was so bad of Lestat to try and protect him of Armand... All of these characters are very complex, with great depths and dark and light sides to themselves in their very unique ways. I have loved these books for over 15 years and I slowly come to love the series, in a very specific and kind of critical way. Both independent and intertwined with the books, now that I have started to re-read them from the beginning with my friend and the parallels become clearer again, I am mind-blown actually.

My babies will always be Lestat and Nicki, who have suffered such a tremendous loss, that is most relatable to me and many more things. I have another favourite I will not mention out of respect for someone's feelings. There is so much I have to say on these two. How I relate to Nicki's mental health and passion. How I relate to their childhood trauma. How I was created to be like Nicki and all my life worked to be like Lestat, how Lestat is indeed my light, the one that made me hold on in darkest times and reminded me... infused that taste of immortality into my existence... abandons my senses when I fall apart and get licked by the flames and torn apart and into madness by... ah well. And such mixed feelings on Louis... I love him, understand him and grieve him and resent him through the lense of Lestat. He's both relatable and makes me want to say "No, how could you?? Are you blind?? He loves you. He fought for you and you fought him with your anger, your vengefulness. You suffered and so you wanted to make him suffer with you... he deserves better than that, but please just be gentle and nice now, Louis. Lestat has set his heart on you, you're his everything. So just let yourself be loved and love him. You've both been through so much and he is so much more fragile and such a sensitive soul than he let's on, than you accept him for..." So very human, I could never hate him for it. But yes. The gift he wore like a curse. Hah. They could have had it all and yet it got consumed by the flames. I am glad Louis learned this very hard lesson and only made that mistake once in the books. And Armand... complex, difficult Armand, who is a very interesting character in a beautiful body and with a beautiful and charming personality on the surface and oh-such-deceptive depths to it. A master at luring people in, making them love him. Not neccessarily a favourite of mine. But certainly a character I look at with fearful respect. As a writer, I cannot even pick up his character to write from his perspective, I cannot comprehend it. So I have utter respect for the abilities of Anne Rice, the AMC series team and Assad Zaman for the amount of skill it takes to make such a character come to life in all his horrifying and compassion rousing details like that.

"I didn't know it was a gift... I wore it like a curse... I was selfish… I tried to make nights awful for you… I wanted you to suffer... Because I was… suffering."

Interview with the Vampire Season 2 | Episode 8 "And That's the End of It. There's Nothing Else"

[potatoplace]

I Don't Feel Alive

The Afterthought: Chapter 4 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

part 3 | part 5 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Starfall means dress shopping, and dress shopping means spending time with Nesta and Elain... the celebration is its own set of challenges that you struggle with.

Warnings: Body shaming, toxic family, slight disordered eating, suicidal ideation, self-deprecating thoughts (let me know if I missed anything)

Words: ~9.2k

Author's Note: it's heeeere I didn't get quite as far into the story as I wanted, but this was a good cut off point too. I really hope you guys like this one! I don't think I made it quite angsty enough, but there's still some. Plus a lil fluff to start. Enjoy! p.s. let me know who you think Y/N will end up with! Or anything else you have to say 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

Your dreams were soft and fuzzy, filled with hazy scenes of you laying in bed and cuddling with your sisters, just like you had every night so long ago.

Waking felt similar, your body cocooned by soft blankets and warm arms, your own wrapped around someone's torso. You took a deep breath before opening your eyes, blinking them a few times to adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the curtains.

Mor's face was laying on the pillow in front of you, still relaxed with sleep. She looked even prettier like this, without stress and her busy schedule hanging over her.

You slowly unwrapped your arms from around her, taking care to not wake her. She deserved the extra sleep, with how much time she was going to be spending in the Hewn City through the end of the year.

You rolled onto your back, Mor's arms tightening around you as you did. It felt nice, being held again. In the past two years, you had forgotten how lovely it was to wake up feeling safe, snuggled up with your sisters.

The sound of Mor's soft, even breaths nearly lulled you asleep, before your eyes flew open.

Shoot! You had forgotten Nuala and Cerridwen's Solstice presents...

Mor's arms were gently pried from your body, which was harder to do than you had anticipated, but you managed without waking her.

You pulled on a dressing gown and quietly grabbed the two bags containing their presents. Your bedroom door snicked shut behind you, and you padded down the hallway, down the stairs, and to their bedroom. One knock had the door swinging open, this time greeted by Cerridwen.

"Y/N? Did you need something?" The wraith asked, her eyes widening slightly when she saw the presents in your hand. "Oh, you didn't have to do that, Y/N," she said, letting you into their room.

"But I wanted to, both of you have been so wonderful to me. And I already got them for you, so you have to open them," you insisted, placing each bag in their new owner's hands.

Nuala shook her head but opened her present anyways, a wide smile overtaking her face. "This is wonderful Y/N! Oh and you even got me metal threads, how did you know?!" The wraith embraced you tightly in her arms.

"And you remembered me complaining about my needles, oh mother, Y/N, you are the most thoughtful person!" Cerrdiwen exclaimed, stealing you from her sister's arms. "You will be the first person I make something for," she said after she loosened her hold on you.

"You don't need to do that..."

Cerridwen looked at you sharply. "Yes I do, and I will. Would you prefer a hat or scarf first? Oh, I'll just make you both," she finished, not giving you time to answer.

"Thank you in advance, I suppose," you said, blush dusting your cheeks. "I'm glad both of you liked your gifts."

"Of course we do! You pay so much attention to what you buy for people, it's so sweet," Nuala said kindly.

A heavier blush rose to your cheeks at their sweet words. "I just like to make people happy. Speaking of which, I should get back to Mor-"

"Back to me? But I'm right here!" Mor said brightly from behind you, causing you to jump in shock. "Sorry, Y/N, did I scare you?" Mor's arms wrapped around you from behind. "You left me, so I came down to find you. Want to do breakfast before everyone returns?"

You nodded in agreement, but turned your eyes to the twins. "Do you want to join us?"

"I'd love to," Nuala said, and Cerridwen nodded her head before replying the same.

"Girls' breakfast! Let's go!" Mor exclaimed, pulling you out of the twins' room, down the hall, and into the kitchen.

The twins trailed behind at a less excited pace, and met the two of you in the kitchen as Mor was pulling food out of the cold box. Bacon, sausages, eggs, broccoli, and cheese were taken out, and the four of you began making breakfast- most likely too much food for the four of you, but Mor insisted that once Cassian had returned he would eat any food that was left over.

You provided the tea, rushing upstairs to pick out an orange and ginger tea.

Breakfast with the three of them was lovely, only kind words and soft smiles being exchanged between you. It was much more peaceful than most of the meals you had taken at the dining table, and for that you were grateful.

Your sisters, their mates, and Azriel returned while the four of you were still gathered round the table, talking over the last of the second pot of tea you'd made.

"Good morning, ladies," Rhys said as he slipped into one of the chairs, pulling a glowing Feyre into his lap a moment later. "Did you have a good breakfast?"

You nodded in response, but it was Mor who spoke. "Yes, in a team effort we made far too much food. What about you lot?"

"It was good, but there wasn't enough," Cassian complained as he sat down, plucking a piece of bacon off of a plate. You smiled at his antics, you'd always found it funny how the male never seemed to be truly full.

"There's never enough for you, Cass," Nesta said as she took the seat next to him- directly across from you- and glared hard enough at you that the small smile on your face fell off in an instant.

"That's true, even though he devoured all of the sweets you gave him, Y/N, he was asking for more the moment they were gone," Lucien laughed as he did the same as Rhys, pulling Elain into his lap in the chair next to yours.

Fear clutched at your heart, though you knew it shouldn't. But the thought of Cassian enjoying the sweets you had made so much that he asked for more... You were scared of how Nesta might retaliate this time.

You tried to keep your breathing even as the conversation passed from one ear to the other, no words registering as they spoke.

"Y/N?" Feyre's soft voice broke through, pulling you out of your worried heart and back into the moment. "You're still up to go dress shopping with us tomorrow, right?"

Your eyes flicked up to her, then to her mate behind her who had a stern look on his face. You forced your eyes back to her slightly worried ones, focusing on the gentle blue that you'd known your whole life. "Uhm... Yes, I am," you managed to respond once you had played the question over in your head.

"Good! We were all thinking that noon would be a fine time to leave, that way the three of us can sleep in a bit after the revel tonight. Does that sound good to you?"

You could feel Nesta's burning gaze and Elain's judgemental eyes on you, stoking the fire of your fear.

"That sounds fine to me, Feyre," you replied, fingers working nervously over the painted irises on your teacup, focusing on the tiny ridges that the paint had created, your gaze now trained on them.

Better than seeing the hatred in Nesta's eyes.

"Perfect! Now that that's settled, I think we should all get to perfecting the revel for tonight," Feyre said, causing movement from all around the table.

Except you.

You sat, staring at your teacup until everyone was gone, disappeared off to their rooms or offices, or wherever they needed to be.

That left you to clear the plates, quickly washing the dishes and leaving them to dry in the rack. Your teapot was dried by hand, and filled with tea leaves and hot water once more. Thankfully you were able to retreat to your room without question, letting you escape back into your fantasy world you had created in your mind. Away from Nesta and Elain's combined ire, combined disdain for your very existence.

The lovely jasmine tea Azriel had gifted you helped you forget where you were, nearly convincing yourself you were back in the human lands, sipping tea in the living room with your father as you watched snow fall and bury that tiny little shack, falling asleep to the thought of it in your arm chair.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

The next morning, you forced yourself from the arm chair, stretching out your neck as you did.

Somehow, it was less comfortable than sleeping in the bathtub.

Your soreness abated as you slid into steaming water, bubbling with rose scented soap- something that you were absolutely delighted by, loving that no matter what, your body was completely covered by bubbles. You hardly caught sight of your skin at all, though you knew with the day's plans, you would be forced to confront how your body had changed.

You could feel it, every now and then. The way your bones protruded just a bit more than they had a month ago. How your joints got sore from sitting or laying faster than before. How pale you had become compared to this time last year, when you had a slight glow to your skin.

This year, you were pasty. As though you had been locked away from the sun the entire time.

A sigh left your lips as you finished your skincare, the one act of kindness to yourself that you always made time for.

Your body didn't matter. It's not as though you would find someone in Prythian. After all, fae and humans shouldn't mix...

Feyre had said something similar to you, so long ago about your past crush on Cassian.

Thankfully in that time, only one person had caught your eye... And you were certain that Irina would never stoop so low as to date you of all people.

Another long breath, lungs deflating.

No, you were here to be alone. Mor and Feyre had begun trying to engage with you, for that you were grateful. They were keeping you from losing all hope once more, and it was all you could do to keep that flame alive.

Especially knowing that your own issues with your body would be added to by whatever Nesta and Elain deigned to say to you. Feyre may have told them to behave, but that wouldn't stop them from throwing barbs at you, thinly veiled by concern or 'opinion.'

Your cycle had finished the night before, leaving you tired but free of its scent, which you were overly thankful for. Mor's present was very nice, but you did not want to try the underwear out while dress shopping with your sisters.

You forced yourself to get dressed and headed out of your room, noting the time on the clock in the hallway. Half past eleven.

That should be enough time for a pot of tea, maybe taken in the kitchen? Or should you retreat to your room...?

You turned around and headed back to your room for a packet of tea leaves, this one a plain green tea. After grabbing it, you made your way downstairs, ears listening for any sign of life.

Perhaps they were all asleep still, exhausted from the revel the night before.

The kitchen was empty when you entered it, and you quickly set to making your tea. A few minutes later you were sat at the island in the kitchen, a cushioned stool beneath you. The tea was lovely and calming, it's clean, slightly sea scented aroma perfect for clearing your head.

That was until Nesta and Elain sauntered in, already talking about what dress styles and colors they were hoping to find today. Their conversation didn't stop once as they walked straight past you and into the living room, the only evidence of them noticing you was the feeling of their eyes on your back.

Suddenly, your heart wasn't so calm.

Feyre walked in a minute later, rushing over to you once she saw you seated at the island. "How are you?"

"I'm... I'm okay. How are you, Fey? How's the baby?"

"Oh I'm just fine, baby was being a little fussy earlier but they're all settled now. Are you ready to leave?"

You finished the rest of your tea in a few quick gulps, enjoying the feeling of warmth it brought, and stood from your stool. "I just need to wash this, and then I'm ready," you said, already making your way to the kitchen sink. That was done in a flash, and soon Feyre was ushering the three of you out the door, Nesta and Elain immediately locking arms and taking the lead. You and Feyre trailed after them, your own arms locked together after Feyre forced her elbow around yours, smiling at you when you looked at her.

All too soon, you arrived at the dress store in the middle of the Palace of Thread and Jewels, greeted by the owner, Tarin.

"Ah, the High Lady and her sisters! This is a lucky day for me, that's for sure," Tarin exclaimed as she approached Feyre, clasping their hands together. "What can I help the four of you with?"

"We're looking for dresses for Starfall, I know we're cutting it a bit close-"

"Oh, nonsense! For the High Lady, even the day of Starfall is not too close. Please, look around and pick out what interests you, we can have them altered if need be," Tarin said, waving her arms at the racks upon racks of dresses filling the shop. "I can also have them made up in different colors, and with any variations of fabrics you may like. Any way I can please you, my dears, and I am happy to do it."

Nesta and Elain set into the sea of fabric together, keeping close to each other as they picked through the racks. You stayed near Feyre, feeling wildly out of your depth.

Shopping for Solstice was one thing, it was shopping for those you cared for. But this...

This was shopping for yourself, and you struggled more with that. Buying the hairpin that you currently had twisted in your hair was a rare action, and one of the first non-practical purchase you had made for yourself since coming to Velaris.

"How about this one?" Feyre asked you, drawing you from your thoughts as she waved a dark purple dress in front of you, it's long sleeves waving as she did so.

"It's pretty," you said absentmindedly, staring at the way the fabric shimmered in the light.

"Do you want to try it on?"

Your eyes snapped up to Feyre's. "Me?"

Feyre laughed softly. "Yes, you. The cut is similar to dresses you've worn before, and you like purple, right?"

You looked back down at the dress, taking in the modest bodice and neckline, and the long length of the dress. "I like the design, but I think I'd prefer a lighter color, Fey," you said politely, but grabbed the dress anyway. "I'll try it on, though."

"That sounds fine, we could always get it made in a lilac color if you'd like," Feyre suggested, her hands already moving over more dresses. "You can go put that at the dressing rooms, then come back and look for more, okay?"

You nodded and did as she suggested, returning to her side and half-heartedly looking over the dresses hung in front of you.

Many of them were far too revealing for your comfort, with low necklines and slits up the thigh. You did find a few you thought Feyre may like, gowns that reminded you of the shimmering night sky, and showed them to her when you happened across them.

"Oh, I love this one," Feyre gushed when she saw one you had handed her, this one a dark blue silk with a smattering of silver stars embroidered across the chest and stomach, with a sweetheart neckline. The length of the dress would like reach her mid thigh, and hang just slightly on the tiny bump that was forming on Feyre's stomach. "What do you think?" She asked, holding the dress up to her body. "High Lady of Night enough?"

Even held against her body, the dress looked perfect for her. "Definitely. You should try it on, Fey," you suggested.

"Hmm... I think I will, Y/N. Are you ready to try yours on? I think we've both got a decent number," Feyre said, slowly walking with you to the back of the shop, where the dressing rooms were located.

"I am, I think," you replied, though you were unsure of being anywhere within a ten foot radius of Nesta. Especially if she couldn't find a dress she liked...

Thankfully at the moment, Nesta and Elain were both in their own dressing rooms, trying on whichever ones they had picked out.

You and Feyre entered your own curtained room, the dresses that you had picked out hung on the hooks inside.

A quiet sigh, and you set to undressing yourself. There was no mirror in here, likely to force people out to get recommendations from their friends. The purple dress that Feyre had found was the first you tried on, the soft fabric flowing down your body like water.

It clung too much.

That was your first impression of the dress, even with the modest neckline and hem length. The soft fabric seemed to be molded to your body, and even a cursory feel of your hands over your hips had you wishing you had rejected Feyre's offer to go shopping. You did not want to hear what Nesta would say about the slight show of your bones in the dress.

"Y/N, are you almost done? We're waiting for you," Feyre said softly from the other side of the curtain, and you forced yourself out of the dressing room. "Oh, you look lovely! I think the color looks nice on you," Feyre said kindly, even as her eyes lingered over the sharp edges of your shoulders, the noticeable bump of your hip bones.

"Do you eat?" Nesta asked sharply from across the room, her nose wrinkled as she took you in. "You look like you're still living in poverty, Y/N."

Blood rushed to your cheeks at her words. They were true, though. "I eat. I've just been..." you paused, trying to find a word that wouldn't irritate your sister. "Stressed."

Nesta scoffed, but shut her mouth at a stern look from Feyre.

"The color is nice, Y/N," Elain said weakly. You forced a smile in her direction.

"Thank you, Elain. Your dress is lovely, green is a wonderful color on you," you said, taking in the flowing layers of fabric that made up the skirt of the dress, all in varying shades of dark green.

"Thank you," Elain replied, but moved her gaze to Nesta. "Nes, your dress is gorgeous. I think you should stick with that one, no need to look for others. You look perfect," Elain said excitedly, so different from her reaction to you.

You tried not to let it sting, turning instead to Feyre. She was clad in a floor length dress in black, tiny diamonds sewn on in patterns that you thought were constellations. There was a slit up to her mid thigh on both sides, allowing her to move freely. "This one is beautiful Fey, you look stunning!"

"You think? I still want to try on that last one you picked out, but I really like this one," Feyre said. "Oh, and I may have put an extra dress in your dressing room, please just try it on, I think you'll really like it. It's the pink one on the left hand side. Just, try it," Feyre begged you softly before returning to her dressing room, Nesta and Elain already back in their own.

Your mouth set into a line, you entered the curtained room again. As she said, there was a glittering pink gown hung on the left hand side when you walked in. Your mouth fell into a frown at the neckline.

Entirely too scandalous for you.

But still, you forced yourself to shed the purple dress and shimmy into the pink one as Feyre had asked. The long, flowing sleeves were off the shoulder, connected to the bodice by a small amount of fabric. The neckline of the dress was far lower than you were normally comfortable with, showing more cleavage than you ever had. The dress was loose fitting past your chest, the flowing skirts moving beautifully as you examined them. The pale rose pink of the fabric was one of your favorites, and didn't wash out your complexion. A difficult task, with how pale you are at the moment.

You walked out of the dressing room and stood in front of the mirror, assessing the dress. Your shoulders were far too bony, but even so... You felt beautiful in the dress, like a princess. The skirts reached your feet, billowing out around you. The neckline was lower than you wanted... But it looked lovely, and really, wearing one low-necked dress in your lifetime would be fine. A turn in the mirror showed you your prominent scapulae, half hidden by the fabric of the dress. That could be fixed by styling your hair in large ringlets, enough to cover most of your back. But the gown... The gown was lovely.

"Oh, I knew you would look perfect in that one!" Feyre cheered when she exited her dressing room in the dress you had picked for her. "You look amazing! Please tell me this is the one you want?" Feyre asked, standing by you as both of you stared in the mirror.

"You don't think it's too...?" You gestured to the neckline. "Revealing?"

Feyre shook her head. "No, mother no. I've worn much worse, you have nothing to worry about. It's just a little bit different than usual, is all. And it's perfect on you."

You tried to believe Feyre, and you did like the dress...

But then Nesta walked out. Her eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled as she gave you a once over, obviously displeased with how you looked.

She was so good at that. Tearing you apart with just one look.

"Your shoulders stick out," Nesta remarked as she took her place in front of the mirror, looking herself over. Her dress was made of shiny silver fabric, a corset in the same fabric serving as the bodice with thick straps wrapping over the tops of her shoulders.

You ignored her comment as best you could. "You look amazing in that dress, Nesta. The corset fits you perfectly."

A cold look over her shoulders, followed by a clipped, "Thank you."

Elain came out of her dressing room last, this time clad in a cream colored dress, looking every bit like the bride she was always destined to be.

"Oh, Elain! You look wonderful!" You said brightly as you took a step toward her, stopping when her gaze hit you- cold as ice. "This one looks very nice on you, but the last one looked amazing too," you said, more nervous now.

"Thanks," she answered coolly, setting her eyes on Feyre. "Feyre, that dress is stunning on you, and very fitting for Starfall."

You nodded in agreement, the dress was perfect for her. And just like you thought, it just barely highlighted the tiny baby bump Feyre had. The sight of it made you smile.

You were overjoyed that your sister had found a loving partner in Rhys, and was looking forward to motherhood.

"Thank you, 'Lain, I really like that it shows my bump just a bit, I think Rhys and I are ready to let our court know that we're expecting at Starfall," Feyre said excitedly, a hand stroking her belly.

"That's amazing, Feyre," Nesta said softly, sounding the kindest she had since they had been taken by Hybern.

"You'll be the talk of Starfall," Elain said, holding Feyre's hands in her own. "I'm so excited for you and Rhys!"

"I don't want to make the biggest deal out of it, after all, it's still early, but... Rhys is so excited about finally being a father, I had to talk him down from telling the Hewn City residents about it last night," Feyre sighed. "I am glad that I'm going to have all of my sisters with me, supporting me along the way, though. Thank you all for coming shopping today," Feyre said tearily.

"Of course, Feyre," you said, taking her in your arms. "We're always going to be by your side."

Elain's arms followed next, barely touching you but clutching Feyre close. "Yeah, Fey, we'll always be with you. Right, Nes?"

"Of course. I will always be here for you, Feyre," Nesta said, and reluctantly wrapped her arms around Feyre and Elain, one hand just barely touching you.

When you all pulled away, Feyre was crying softly, tears streaming down her face. You grabbed tissues from a nearby table, dabbing away the tracks of starlight on her face. "It's okay, Feyre. We're all here."

"I-I know," Feyre sniffled. "I just... I love you all so much. I can't imagine life without any of you." She let you wipe her eyes, dabbing away the last of her tears after she collected herself. "Now, let's try on the rest of the dresses, we shouldn't waste too much of Miss Tarin's time."

The four of you continued to try on dresses, with much of the same behavior. You attempted to compliment your sisters, only to be met with cold responses. If they did talk to you, it was to point out how the dress didn't suit you.

You still chose the pink dress that Feyre had chosen for you, Feyre choosing the blue one that you had picked for her. Nesta picked the silver gown. Elain had taken the longest to decide, eventually choosing the green dress she had tried on first.

Feyre had argued over the payment with Tarin, demanding that she pay full price for the rushed orders, eventually winning the argument. Nesta and Elain had left by that point, taking off to some vague location that contained books.

That left you and Feyre, walking slowly across the bridge that would lead you to the Rainbow. She wanted to look at paints, and maybe get something special for the canvases that you had gotten her.

And that's how you found yourself entering Irina's shop once more, your heartbeat kicking up when you realized it. Feyre led you to the wall of paint, her fingers hovering over the tubes as she searched for the colors she wanted.

Soft footsteps approached from the back of the shop, and you were met with Irina, her face just as beautiful as you remembered, her smile just as warm.

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat.

"Ah, Feyre and Y/N, it's lovely to see both of you," Irina's smooth voice said. "You came in just in time, I was about to close up early."

"Lucky us!" Feyre said, eyes still glued to the paint tubes. "Any special occasion?" She asked Irina teasingly as she pulled a few out of the selection.

"Oh, hush you," Irina scolded, swatting Feyre gently on the arm. "You know that I have a date with Rivin tonight."

*Oh.

Your heart sank.

"Well, I wanted to make sure the plans were still on! You know I was rooting for the two of you to get together," Feyre said. You grabbed the paint tubes she had picked up from her, pushing her slender hand away when she attempted to take them back. Your fingers rolled over the cap, giving you a sensation to focus on besides your crushed... crush. "The way the two of you danced around each other since I first met you was adorable- I'm so glad you're going out now!"

"Well, I'll only be able to go out with her if you choose what you want soon, or she'll think I stood her up!" Irina laughed, her skin shifting colors under the light.

"Oh, fine, fine," Feyre said, pulling out three more tubes of paint, all shimmering metallic shades. You followed her as she followed Irina to the back counter, placing the tubes on it. Soon enough, the paints were rung up and bagged, and clutched tightly in your arms. "Thank you, Irina. I hope your date goes well."

"Oh, I do as well!" Irina said as she walked the two of you out of the store, locking the door behind her. "I hope the two of you have a lovely rest of your day as well."

"You as well, Irina," you said quietly, nodding your head to her before she turned to leave. She flashed you a dazzling smile, her eyes a bright pink today.

So pretty.

"I'll see the two of you around!" She yelled, waving goodbye over her shoulder.

You and Feyre began the walk home, arms linked together one more, your other balancing the bag of paint.

"How do you know Irina?" Feyre asked once you were crossing the Sidra, taking careful penguin steps so neither of you would fall on the slippery bricks.

Color rushed to your cheeks, though they were already pink from the cold. "Oh, I went into her shop to get one of your birthday presents. The canvases and all," you explained.

"Ahh, that makes sense. She's nice, and she has a great selection!" Feyre said excitedly as the two of you passed through the door of the River House. "I cannot wait to start the first three panels! I'm not quite through my third month yet, but I know some of what I want to do for it."

"I'm glad you like it Fey! I can't wait to see what you make for each one." You kicked off your boots after unlacing them, and let Feyre pull your jacket off your arms, you doing the same for her after. "I think I'm going to head up to my room," you said quietly after you hung up your coats and put your boots on the rack.

"Oh, alright. I... I hope you didn't feel too uncomfortable while shopping," Feyre said. You knew what she meant: with Nesta and Elain.

"I was... fine," you lied half-heartedly.

Feyre stared at you, and you would have thought she was reading your mind, but you didn't feel anything similar. "If you say so. You know you can talk to me, right?" You nodded. "Okay... Well, I'll let you get to your room. Did you want me to start water for tea? I was going to make a cup for myself anyway," Feyre offered, a soft smile on her face.

You nodded again. "That would be nice, thank you, Fey."

Feyre's smile broadened. "I'll see you in the kitchen, sissy."

You went to your room to grab another packet of tea from the sampler Azriel had gotten you- so far, you were a fan of every blend he had chosen. You were hoping today's choice of a rose petal tea would be just as lovely.

The trip back to the kitchen was quick, with no sign of your other two sisters. Good. You weren't in the mood to see their sneering faces again so soon.

Tea was made quickly, thanks to Feyre boiling water for you. You gave her a hug before returning upstairs, tray balanced in your arms.

Just before you opened your door, the door to Rhys's study swung open, Azriel emerging from it.

*Oh!

He came down the hallway, and once he was near the stairs you finally got your brain to move past your anxiety of starting a conversation.

"Hi, Azriel, would you uhm... Would you wait here for just a moment?" You asked. "I have that Solstice present I got for you."

"Alright," Azriel replied quietly, moving closer to your doorway. You went inside quickly, fishing the already wrapped box out from under your bed, and a moment later you were back in front of him, offering the gift to him.

"Open it," you said, pushing the box into his hands.

Soon enough, the dagger was in his hands, his fingers running over the inlaid crescent moon made of sapphires, then over the blade itself. "This is wonderful, Y/N, thank you," Azriel said, sincerity in his tone. "I happen to have gotten a gift for you as well." A moment later, shadows materialized, depositing a festive, glittery evergreen tree colored bag in his hand.

"Oh, Azriel, you didn't have to-"

"Open it," Azriel said simply, transferring the handles over to your hand in a quick movement.

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, but opened the bag. Inside was a beautiful, hooded cloak that would reach at least your mid back, made of a soft, white yarn. Beneath it was a matching scarf, little tassels on the ends, and a pair of mittens. They even had a small button on the top, allowing for the and of the mitten to be lifted and become a sleeveless glove if needed.

"Its made of rabbit fur," Azriel said quietly as you ran your fingers over the fabric. You looked up at with him with wide eyes. "Oh- they just brush or shave the rabbits, don't worry, no fluffy creatures were killed in the making of your gift," Azriel reassured you.

You let out a breath of relief. "Good. Good. It's a beautiful present, Azriel, thank you. Could I- could I give you a hug?" You asked nervously, regretting the question the moment you asked it. "I mean, you don't have to-"

"That would be fine." You blinked up at him. That would be- You allowed yourself to wrap your arms around him, noticing how stiff he was for the first few seconds before relaxing, his own arms coming up around you.

He smelled nice. Like cedar wood and... And night? Whatever it was, it was nice. Calming.

You both retracted your arms at the same time, pulling apart. A soft smile at him and one last thank you, and then you were in your room once more.

You were happy that he liked your present, but the slight wash of warmth it had given you was quickly chased away by the rest of your day.

Nesta and Elain... You were sure that they would never look at you like a sister again.

And Irina... It was such a silly crush that you had, based almost entirely on how pretty she was. You had been taken with her instantly, yes, breath catching in your throat. But that... That meant nothing.

Especially with you still being... Human. Frail. Less than a century from dying.

No fae, no matter how they looked, would ever take you as their wife, that you were sure of. You only had a couple of decades left of looking youthful, and perhaps only a few more past that before illness would inevitably take you.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you sat at your desk, a cup of tea poured out in the next moment.

At least tea could never not choose you...

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

The next week and a half passed dreadfully slowly, spent mostly in the solitude of your room.

Feyre came by when she could make time, the two of you sharing a pot of tea and the occasional snacks that she would bring.

Mor was stuck in the Hewn City, all the way until the morning of Starfall, when she would have a slight reprieve. She had already promised to come and spend the morning with you to get ready and catch up.

But until then, or until Feyre could make time... You stuck to your room.

Apparently your giving a joint present to Nesta and Cassian, and Elain and Lucien cause some extra anger in the two of them towards you. Nesta's glare had seemed extra fiery, and Elain had appeared perched on Lucien's lap more often than not when you did happen to wander into the living room.

You tried not to let it get to you, you did... But between the extra tension at home and the sadness in your heart from your silly little crush... It was weighing you down.

The days ticked past, counting down to an event that you weren't particularly excited for...

The morning of Starfall arrived, bringing with it the bright ball of energy that was Mor.

"Y/N!" Mor shouted, startling you awake. "Wake up! Wake up wake up! I'm here, I'm here. Please. Wake up. I've missed you!"

"Oh my gods, Mor, I'm awake," you groaned, rubbing your hands over your eyes. "Do you know a gentle way to wake people up?" You asked as you sat up, pushing your hair away from your face.

"Mm, not really. But, my way is super effective," Mor said cheekily, grinning when you stood up in the tub to glare at her with no fire in your eyes. "Come over here, sweets," she demanded, patting the bed next to her. You went over to her, collapsing onto the bed next to her, and swatted at her with a pillow in revenge for her waking you so abruptly. "So, how have the past two weeks been for you?"

"Oh... You know... Boring..." You said quietly. "How's it been for you? Is everyone behaving?"

Mor narrowed her eyes at you for a brief moment, before accepting your change of subject. "Oh, most everyone has been fine... I've been trying very hard to change the city's voting system plus helping plan their Starfall event, so my hands have been full every waking moment. And Keir has been an absolute pain..." Mor sighed. "He doesn't like that he's losing most of his control by the city moving to a full population vote rather than just the nobles, but it's going to happen whether he likes it or not. But for me, that just means him being more of an ass."

"I'm sorry Mor. I wish that someone else was able to help you..."

"Feyre offered, but, well, with her being pregnant that's not the best idea. And I'm sure Amren would enjoy going solely to terrify the citizens, but that's not exactly... What we're aiming for. And I can do it, and I will, I just wish my stupid father wasn't a factor." Mor sighed dramatically and flopped back on your bed, arms flung out to the sides.

One smacked into your thigh and you laughed, pushing it off of you and back over to Mor's side. "I know something that will cheer you up," you offered.

"Oh?" Mor asked, peeking over at you. "And what would that be?"

"Doing our skincare!" You answered brightly, using the same tactic that she always did with you.

"Oh, I should have guessed!" Mor giggled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, sweets. Let's get to it!"

"Wait- let me take a quick bath first, and then I'll be all ready for it."

Mor nodded. "That sounds fine, I'll go make some tea and grab some breakfast for us."

The morning moved quickly from there- too quickly, in your opinion, your alone time with Mor slipping away so fast. After you had bathed, the two of you did your skincare, doing an extra mask and moisturizer to give yourselves an extra glow.

Into the second pot of tea Mor started doing your makeup once she had seen your dress. She spent nearly an hour on you alone, taking her time to perfect your eyeshadow and lipstick, getting just the right about of blush coloring your cheeks. You felt beautiful, seeing yourself like that in the mirror.

Mor's own makeup didn't take near as long, but she was even more beautiful than usual, with the extra time she had put in.

The two of you spent a bit more time together before she had to leave and return to the Hewn City for a bit longer, to make sure their celebration started smoothly.

"I'll see you at the House of Wind later, yes?" Mor asked before she left your room, a stern eye on you.

You sighed. "Yes, Mor, I will see you at the House of Wind. I *won't skip out on the celebration, I promise."

Mor nodded in approval. "Good. I'll see you in a few hours, Y/N."

She breezed out of your room, leaving you alone once again.

You sighed, and sat down on your bed. Then collapsed back onto it.

Just a few more hours, and your anxious anticipation could subside.

Starfall would be fine this year. You will stay away from Nesta, Elain, and their mates, and instead stick around Feyre, Mor, and possibly Azriel, if he didn't seem too annoyed by your presence.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

Four hours later, you were dressed and ready to leave for the House of Wind. Your hair was half pinned up by the hairpin you had bought yourself, half left down in loose curls that conveniently covered most of the bones in your back.

There was little you could do to cover your shoulders, what with the style of the dress, but you felt pretty nonetheless. The gown had been taken in slightly, just enough to fit more snugly and leave you feeling more comfortable with such an exposed neckline, more secure. And the way the skirts flowed around your feet made you feel more graceful than you were.

Overall, you felt decent about yourself tonight. Your hair had cooperated, not making you late for the start of the event by taking too long to style. And the makeup that Mor had done was perfect, just enough to enhance your natural features.

You had even opted for heels tonight, little sparkly silver boots that Feyre had gotten for you, in case you wanted something more than flats to wear.

When you finally left your room, you made your way downstairs where Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel were waiting in the entryway, seemingly for you.

"Oh, Y/N, you look beautiful!" Feyre exclaimed when she caught sight of you, rushing over to pull you into her arms. "I just love this dress on you!"

"Yes, both of you look lovely, but Feyre...?" Rhys started.

"Oh, shoot! We need to get going, Y/N, but Azriel will take you up to the House when you're ready!" Feyre said brightly, leaving the house a moment later and letting her mate take her in his arms, shooting of into the sky together.

Your heart dropped. Flying? You had only flown a few times, usually to get to the House of Wind as you would be tonight. It still terrified you as badly as it did on the first time, leaving you shaking every time.

"Are you ready to leave?" Azriel asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You nodded, and followed him outside, even as you felt like your heart was in your throat at the prospect of flying.

He gently pulled you into his arms, one hooked beneath your knees and the other supporting your back. Your arms instinctively flew around his neck, ready to hold on for dear life.

Not that you didn't trust Azriel to keep you alive, just... You weren't made for flying, you don't think.

The push off from the ground had you closing your eyes, squeezing them shut tight. You could feel your heart racing, trying to leave your chest as you were overtaken by fear.

"You look beautiful tonight," Azriel said, his deep voice in your ear causing your eyes to snap open.

"You don't have to lie..."

Azriel let out a soft breath. "I'm not lying, you look beautiful tonight. Pink is your color, I believe," He said, his voice right in your ear again. Color rushed to your cheeks at his compliment, and you smiled- small, but there.

A moment later, he had landed solidly on the ground, carefully placing you on your feet.

You'd nearly forgotten you had been flying.

Soon after distancing yourself from him, Rhys rushed over to pull him away for some reason or another. Which left you standing alone in the House of Wind, for the first time since Bounty Day.

Anxiety grew in your gut again, making you feel queasy.

Especially when you saw the feast, laid out over that same massive dining table.

You turned away from the banquet, navigating instead to Feyre's side. Already she was surrounded by a few citizens, but you were able to make your way in for a hug from your sister. Soon though, more far crowded in, and following the arrival of Rhys you broke away from your sister, no longer feeling welcome next to them.

You wandered off, searching for Mor in the ever growing sea of people, with no luck yet.

Azriel, the other person you knew that could be safe to talk to, was occupied talking to a very pretty redhead, and also next to Nesta and Cassian.

Definitely a no.

After a while, you filled a small plate with food, picking at the smoked meats, cheeses, and some pieces of fruit until you couldn't stand it anymore, taking the plate back into the kitchens.

Back here, it was quieter. A few stragglers were wandering in and out between the balconies nearby, but you paid them no mind as you got a glass of cool water from the sink.

You let yourself take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, to bring yourself out of your anxiety. It helped, but not much.

It was enough to allow you to wander back out into the party, passing more than enough males who eyed you up and down, leaving you nervous. You were almost tempted to grab a glass of wine, but you knew all that was provided was faerie wine, something that you never wanted to try after hearing some of Feyre's tales involving it.

You knew this dress was a mistake. A beautiful one, yes, but it left you feel exposed unlike every before.

Every few minutes, you circled back to where Feyre was, seeing if there was an opportunity for you to ask her to take you back to the River House, or have someone take you back. But every time you passed, there was somehow more people crowded around Feyre and her mate.

Mor was nowhere to be seen two hours into the party, leaving you adrift in the sea of fae that had overtaken the House of Wind. You were overwhelmed and feeling so alone, the noise of the party drowning out any coherent thoughts you could have.

Just make it to the Starfall, and you can go.

That's what you told yourself for an hour as you continued your slow circles of the main rooms, attempting to find Mor or see if Feyre was available. No luck for you, though.

Cheers erupted as the first streaks of glowing green overtook the sky, giving you your cue to leave.

You didn't care that it was cold and snowy out, you just needed away from the noise, the lights, the everything that always surrounded you.

The stairs were hell in your heeled boots, but you dealt with them, forcing yourself to go one step at a time. By some miracle, you didn't fall, merely ending the massive flight of stairs by sitting down at the bottom to catch your breath.

Tears had begun falling down your cheeks at some point, driven by the cold and how lonely you feel, how forgotten you felt yet again.

You finally pushed yourself off of the cold stone, the bottom of your dress now wet with snow.

The forest would give you the peace you wanted, though you wouldn't venture near as far as you had last time. No, tonight you just wanted a bit of peace, a bit of time with only natural light shining upon you, even if it was enhanced by the cosmic phenomenon going on above you.

Your feet carried you to the edge of Velaris, the forest in your sights. A sigh of relief left you as you saw the trees, so reminiscent of the ones you had grown up near.

And then you crashed into a wall.

"What the-?" You rubbed at your nose, attempting to soothe the pain of crashing into- whatever you had crashed into. You held your hands out, shocked to find that they rested perfectly on an invisible force in front of you. Nothing that you tried let your hands pass that point, and a kick at the area led to the same results- a foot that you knew would hurt badly in the morning.

You couldn't *believe it.

They had locked. You. In. They had taken any amount of freedom you could have, no matter how fleeting it would inevitably be.

Ice cold rage and swells of disappointment left you a sobbing mess as you stumbled away from the wall of your cage, following the Sidra with no true destination in mind.

You would not be going back to that house. You couldn't. Not when- when... Not when Feyre had okayed you being locked inside of the city like nothing more than a pet, like you weren't a person with feelings and needs and desires.

You were sick of being alone, sick of feeling alone even in a sea of people. You had no one who was just yours. And that would never change in Velaris, would never change unless you were around humans once more.

"Y/N!" A warm voice said, drawing your eyes from the snow covered ground to the person it came from. "How did the recipe I gave you turn out? Good?" Sevenda asked, her smile turning to a frown when she saw your tear covered, blotchy face. "Is everything okay, dear?"

Another sob left your lips, despite your attempts to quiet it. "I- I- No," you managed to get out.

"Oh, come in here for a minute, Y/N, you're freezing!" Sevenda said, pulling you into the back of her restaurant. She pushed a cup of tea in front of you, which you gladly accepted, your fingers warming instantly from the mug. "Did you want to talk about it?" She asked after a couple of minutes.

You shook your head, but sighed and answered anyways. "I just... I don't belong in that house, I don't belong in Velaris... I can't... I can't keep pretending like I do, acting like I'm happy to be there... I need..." You sighed again. "I need out of there." And then an idea struck you. "I- I know this would be a lot to ask, and that you likely don't need help from a human but... Do you happen to need help here? I could do anything you need, I just..." You trailed off.

"You need out?" Sevenda asked, sympathy on her face and in her voice. "Well, I did lose one of my prep cooks to the Continent recently, he went to study new styles of cooking. If you are serious about this, I will have you show up at nine tomorrow morning. Okay, dear?"

You nodded your head vigorously. "I would be so grateful, Sevenda, truly, thank you so much." You let the older fae pull you into her arms, the gentle hug enough to stop your tears for the moment.

"Are you going to be alright, dear?" She asked once she pulled away, looking you in the eyes. You nodded your head, not trusting your voice at the moment. "Okay. Let me get you a cup of tea to go, and you should go straight home, hmm?"

You let her do just that, accepting the hot jasmine tea in a lidded cup that she made you promise to bring back in the morning. After saying goodbye, you set off in the opposite direction of the River House.

No matter how cold you were, you didn't feel like going back there yet.

Some time later, you found yourself on a cliffside, overlooking the bay of Velaris. Your tea was long gone by now, any warmth it had given you gone with it.

The rocks down below looked so inviting, as though they would welcome you in an instant. You let out a long, heavy breaths, tears beginning to flow again.

You wish you had the strength to jump.

Instead, you sat on the edge of the cliff, booted feet dangling over the side. The snow underneath you was frigid, leaving you colder than before. But still, you sat and watched the waves, and listened to the crash on the rocks below.

"Y/N?" A deep voice asked from behind you, but you paid it no mind. Maybe they would leave you alone. "Y/N?" The voice asked again. After another length of silence from you, the person took another approach, and sat next to you instead, their own long legs dangling over the edge. A warmth behind you, and less wind hitting you after the male readjusted. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You still didn't answer.

Instead, you were surprised by gentle hands winding a scarf around your neck in two loops, then a cloak being fastened over your head and buttoned in the front, and finally a pair of mittens slid over your hand.

Azriel didn't make you talk, didn't make you do anything. He simply let you take the time you needed to recover, to stop your tears.

A while later, the waves started to lull you to sleep, your head tilting to the side until Azriel pulled it to his arm, letting you rest against him. Your eyes fluttered shut, your cheek soaking in the warmth of him, even through the hood of your cloak.

It was only when you nearly pitched forward off the cliff that Azriel insisted on taking you back to the River House, or at least to a café where you could warm up.

"I suppose..." your voice cracked. "That going back to the River House would be... fine... for now," you whispered, glad that he didn't force you to speak any more. A moment later and you were pulled through shadows, similarly to how Nuala and Cerridwen travelled but... different in a way. Almost warmer, you would say.

The two of you appeared in front of your bedroom door, the warm air shocking your skin and making you feel clammy.

"I'll have my shadows bring you a pot of tea, feel free to take a bath or change so you can warm up, Y/N. I hope you have a better night that it has been so far," Azriel said quietly before turning to leave.

"Thank you, Azriel," you croaked just before he turned to go down the stairs. He gave you a small smile and nodded before continuing on his way.

You entered your bedroom, tears falling almost instantly once you were alone again. You forced yourself to strip, hanging up the pink gown to dry and setting your sparkly boots near the door. The bath felt soothing, at least, warming you to the core by the time you got out.

And there, awaiting you on your desk, was a fresh pot of the lavender and chamomile tea that you preferred for sleep.

A few extra tears fell at that small act of kindness, and you helped yourself to a still steaming cup of it, settling into the armchair that you had perpetually pulled near your window, a throw blanket across your body.

Sleep claimed you before you had even finished your second cup of tea.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

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[heavyhitterheaux]

IDGAF (NSFW)

See Me Through You Series

I don't care right now (I don't give a fuck)

Pull your hair right now (come here)

Tryna beat it right now (she like)

But you know I got a man

Synopsis: Joe has no more fucks to give and is tired of him not having the title of being your boyfriend

Warnings: mentions of dv

Do not engage if you are underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

After Joe had told you that he knew that you loved him instead of Trevor, you stood there speechless.

One thing you weren't about to do was tell him that he was wrong.

His eyes never left yours as he waited for you to say something. When you didn't, he knew that it had to be up to him to at least try to pull a response out of you.

“Look, Y/N, if you go back to him, fine. I can't stop you, but I do need to tell you one thing.” He told you as he grabbed your left hand to hold it while the other one was holding onto the bouquet of flowers that he had gifted you.

“What's that?” You asked him not knowing that you had absentmindedly squeezed his hand tighter.

“You’re making a mistake and hopefully you realize that before you get hurt again because I know that at this point, it's bound to happen.” Joe said as he was not holding back how he felt about the entire situation.

Now the question was why did Trevor have such a strong hold on you?

“Joey, I promise that you don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine.” You said while trying to reassure him, but knew for a fact that more than likely it was not working in your favor.

“And who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself? Do you also not realize how much your brother worries about you too? From what I've seen and heard about him, he is not a good person. Especially not to you. Did you forget him leaving actual marks on your wrist while we were at that party and you were trying to get away from him? What do you think would have happened if I wasn’t there to get you away from him?”

“I wish that people would just stop acting like they know what's best for me.” You breathed out, frustrated about being hit from all different angles.

Joe, Ja'Marr, Erin, and Alisha.

Even your parents thought that you had broken up with him a while ago because that's what Ja'Marr told them when he knew that Joe had eyes for you.

“Bam Bam! Why did dad just say he was relieved that I finally broke up with Trevor!? And that you had told them?! Didn’t realize my life was a soap opera to you!”

“I just uh predicted the future. Now you're not going to make me look like a liar to mom and dad, right?”

“I should beat your ass right now.”

“I mean…. You have someone who likes you that I know will treat you right. He's literally just waiting for Trevor to get out of his rightful spot.”

“JA'MARR! Who are you talking about!?”

“Pebbles, don't be dumb. I'm talking about Joe, obviously. I see the type of person he is and that's someone I want for my sister.”

The relief that was evident on their faces let you know that he was not ever going to have approval from anyone that was a part of your life.

As soon as those words left your mouth, Joe wasted no time responding to you.

“Oh so you think this is what a healthy relationship between two people looks like? And someone obviously needs to because you definitely can't do it yourself.”

“Just like you said before, if I go back to him, it really isn't any of your business or anyone else's for that matter. Let's keep it that way because I am done with this conversation.”

“If that's what you want then okay. I won't say anything else about it. And to add to that I'll keep my distance because you're right. You shouldn't be spending more time with another man that isn't your boyfriend and I guess he probably feels like I stepped on his toes enough. But he won't have to worry about that anymore.” He told you as he sighed and held up his hands in defense, losing the warmth that he had been getting from holding your hand.

“Wait…” You started to say, but Joe shook his head at you.

“No, this is what you wanted so this is how it's going to be from now on.”

“Joey, I didn't mean…”

“Didn't mean what? You love me but your ass is crawling back to him as he begs for forgiveness as usual after doing the bare minimum? Actually, he doesn't even do that. I'm not about to compete with anyone who I feel isn't even on my level to compete with me in the first place. I'll see you at the game if you're coming later. Probably not the best idea to wear my jersey since we can't have Trevor seeing it.”

Now it was apparent that Joe was more than pissed off with you.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I need to head back to my apartment to start to get ready anyway. But for the record….” He trailed off and you tried to grab his hand, but he immediately moved away.

“For the record what?”

“I love you too. So do what you will with that information.”

That's the last thing Joe told you before he turned away from you before he walked back to meet up with Justin and Ja'Marr.

Later that day in the afternoon, you were sitting next to Alisha and Erin in the student section of the stadium waiting for the game to start. After the conversation between the two of you earlier in the day, you honestly didn’t feel like going, but decided to anyway.

Even though Joe was mad at you, you had already promised him last week that you would wear his jersey to the game and didn't care who saw it at this point.

You were going to support your friend.

Your friend that you were in love with and he was in love with you however that was a whole nother discussion.

“You look good in your future husband's jersey.” Erin teased while Alisha laughed before taking a bite of her hot dog.

“He’s a little mad at me right now so hopefully seeing me in it will make it a little bit better.” You said as you turned to look at her.

“Well he can't be but so mad at you since he is literally making his way over here.” Alisha told you as you turned around to see that she was indeed correct.

The three of you were on the first row in the middle so that you would have the best view. In order to get these seats, all three of you made sure to get to the stadium early. When Joe finally reached you, he had an expression on his face that you couldn't quite read and you were the first one to speak.

“Surprised to see me?” You asked and he nodded.

“A little bit, but I know you. A promise is a promise and you said that you would be here. You aren't one to back out of something so easily.”

“Hmm, true. Are you still mad at me?” You quietly asked and Joe simply shrugged.

“Seeing you in my jersey is making me less mad if that helps. If you were my girlfriend, after tonight when I won I would be able to take it off of you. But I know my opportunity is coming.”

“I…” You started to say as you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Oh, that’s right. We established boundaries today and I promised that I would back off. It's kind of hard, but I just have to deal with it.”

“Joey….”

“Bold move though wearing it considering anybody could see it, including him. We both know that he already doesn’t like me. Think he'd be mad if I kissed you right now? In front of all these people? Letting the entire world know that you belong to me and only me even if you aren't ready to admit it yet.” Joe whispered as he leaned closer to you. Joe had spotted Trevor in the stands a few rows up and sent a small smile his way which led to Trevor glaring at him. You still had yet to notice that he was there which Joe was going to take advantage of.

When you were quiet, Joe laughed as he broke the silence.

“Let’s find out.”

He lightly grabbed your face and moved you closer to him so he could place a kiss on your cheek that was dangerously close to your mouth.

If you would have moved less than one centimeter, he would have planted that kiss on your lips.

“We'll talk later.” He told you while pinching your cheek and you simply nodded. This was the second time today that he had left you speechless.

“Have a good game, Joey.”

“It already is a good game, because you're here.” He replied as he winked at you.

He made his way back over to the sideline while Erin and Alisha were grinning from ear to ear as you turned around to look at both of them.

“I seriously wish yall would just fuck already. It would literally solve so many problems. He would take you on the fifty yard line if he could.”

“ERIN!”

“I’m just saying. I am literally waiting for the wedding invite. I wonder if you two will get married here or have a destination wedding? I can start looking up places.”

“What am I going to do with you?” You asked her, but also couldn’t help but to laugh at the same time.

What you didn't see was Trevor fuming behind you. He had seen the entire interaction and planned to confront you about it later. He knew that you and Joe were obviously close and were friends, but that interaction that he just saw was too intimate for his liking.

He hadn't cared for Joe ever since the party where he had stepped in between the both of you. In the back of his mind, he knew Joe liked you, it was obvious. But one thing that he had to do was set him straight and let him know that you were his and planned on reminding you about it later.

Little did he know, it was too little too late.

You were too far gone at this point, and the only person that held your attention was Joseph Lee Burrow.

Later on that night after he had gotten back to his apartment from LSU winning their game, Joe had grabbed food and was sitting down eating it while his phone vibrated on the table in front of him indicating that it was his mom and he quickly answered.

He simply wanted to be by himself and didn't bother celebrating with any of his teammates because once again, his mind was on you.

It was a continuous cycle, you, football, and focusing on his classes.

It took everything in him not to text you to tell you to come over at this very moment. He was supposed to be mad at you, but being around you was something that kept him grounded. Seeing you wear his jersey tonight made it hard for him to continue to be mad at you.

“Hello?”

“I watched the game and you played amazing as usual. I'm sorry that I couldn't make it to this one, but I will definitely be there next week.”

“It's fine, don't even worry about it and thank you.” He quietly said and she knew for a fact that something was wrong.

“What's going on? You sound upset.” Robin asked him and he sighed before he answered her.

“I like this girl…”

“Oh Y/N? Yes I know. Pretty obvious. You literally talk about her non-stop every week that me and your dad call you. Can't wait to meet her, but go on.”

“Well she knows that I like her, well I actually told her that I loved her earlier today and also told her that I knew she loved me. We've gotten really close ever since I came down here and met her. If I'm not playing football or in class, I am literally spending all of my time with her.”

“Well, what's the problem?”

“She has a boyfriend and I might just have to settle for being her friend because instead of breaking up with him and being with me, she told me that she is giving him another chance even after he's hurt her multiple times.”

“I know that can be hard to watch, but as bad as it sounds, you need to let her make her own mistakes. If that's her decision, you need to respect it.”

“And that's what I told her and also said from now on I’ll be keeping my distance from her.”

“If you feel that's your best option, then stand by your decision.”

“I just…. All I've seen is her getting hurt by him and she steadily defends him each time.”

“I… if you are her friend and you are as close as you claim you two are, just be there for her and help her get through whatever may happen. If the two of you are meant to be together, you'll be together.”

It was 2 in the morning when Joe heard someone knocking on his apartment door and was instantly confused. Hopping up from the couch that he had fallen asleep on with open books scattered around him, he opened the door to see you staring at him in a frantic state.

“Y/N, is everything okay? What's wrong?” He asked as he stepped to the side to be able to let you in and led you to sit down on the couch.

“My brother isn't here, is he?” You asked not bothering to answer his question and looking around since sometimes Ja'Marr would crash at Joe's place if he was too tired to go back to his own.

“No, but do I need to call him?” He asked and you immediately shook your head no.

“No! Please don't. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell, just don’t tell him.” You didn't mean to raise your voice and it came out harsher than you intended.

“Then are you going to tell me what happened? Wait, why is there a cut near your eye? And it's bleeding.” He asked and got up to wet a washcloth and dabbed at your face with it.

It was at that moment that you had looked down and started playing with your matching bracelet that you and Ja'Marr had gotten each other on your eighteenth birthdays and under no circumstances would you make eye contact with him.

That's when the thought hit Joe like a ton of bricks.

“Did that asshole put his hands on you?”

“No.”

“Y/N, if you lie to me I'm calling Ja'Marr.”

“Okay, okay. He tried to. We were arguing and he threw a vase at me that shattered against the wall and some glass from it must have cut me. And then he pushed me into a corner and acted as if he was going to punch me, but punched a hole in the wall instead. Right next to my head. He apologized, but I waited until he fell asleep and then I came here. I was so scared.” You quietly said as tears were starting to run down your cheeks and Joe quickly wiped them away.

It happened again, just like he said it would.

And this time, it ended up being a lot worse.

Joe was sitting there with his jaw clenched and once you looked up at him, you knew that you had to stop him before he did something stupid.

He abruptly got up and was looking for his keys when you instantly ran to stand in front of the door to block him.

“Move, Y/N.”

“Joey, no. You are not going anywhere. Let it go.”

“He fucking hurt you. I should go over there and kick his ass myself.”

“I cannot risk you getting in trouble and therefore getting kicked off the team, he isn't worth it. I'll be fine. Do not mess up your future over me.” You told him as you took his hands in yours.

“But YOU are worth it. Who the fuck in their right mind would do something like that to you? I knew I didn't like him when I met him and your brother was right about him.”

“Joey, promise me. Please don't. I'll deal with it in my own way.”

“There is no way in hell you are going near him ever again. Ja'Marr would be mad as hell at me if he knew that I knew that he hurt you and didn't do anything about it.”

“And that's why you aren't going to tell him.”

“Wait, what? Y/N… you cannot be serious.”

“I… it's the same thing with him too. You can both get arrested for assault and it'll lead to so much more, just please.”

Joe let out a deep sigh before nodding, letting you know that he would honor your wishes.

The two of you were still standing in front of the door and the two of you hadn't taken your eyes off one another when you suddenly reached up and kissed him, catching him off guard, but he immediately kissed you back.

When the two of you broke apart, the reality of what you had just done hit you like a ton of bricks.

You had just cheated on your boyfriend with Joe.

And you didn’t have an ounce of regret in your body.

“I'm sorry, I…” You started to say as you stepped away from him and Joe cut you off as he lightly brought you back towards him.

“I'm not. Break up with him and be with me instead. So I can show you how you're supposed to be treated. I promise you that you won't regret it.”

You didn't respond, but Joe immediately brought your face to his and kissed you once more. Both of your hands were exploring each other's bodies but as soon as you tried to lift Joe's shirt, he abruptly stopped and he kissed the side of your mouth like he had done earlier at the game before saying anything.

“Not yet. You've been through a lot tonight and the last thing I want is for you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you in a vulnerable state and you regret it tomorrow.”

“But I'm…”

“I just want you to rest for the rest of the night. We have plenty of time for that. I'll grab you some clothes to sleep in.”

Nodding your head he kissed you again before taking your hand in his and led you towards his bedroom that you had grown familiar with all throughout the semester. Any time you came over, it would lead to you stealing one of his shirts or one of his hoodies. He was convinced when the semester was over that all he was going to have left at this rate were his boxers. Once there, he let go of your hand and went into his dresser to pull out one of his old Ohio State shirts and handed it to you.

“It'll probably be huge on you, but you'll be comfortable.”

You smiled at him before heading to the bathroom to change out of your clothes. Once you closed the door behind you, you glanced in the mirror and didn't recognize the girl staring back at you.

You promised yourself that if it happened again, you would leave him, but here you were. You had someone right in front of you that wanted to give you the world so what were you so scared of?

You were tired of running around in circles and tired of making excuses.

First thing you were doing later on that day was breaking up with Trevor.

Once you had gotten changed, you walked back out into Joe's bedroom to see he was now in just a pair of sweatpants and looked like he was headed towards the door, but was quickly stopped in his tracks as he heard your soft voice behind him making him turn around.

“Where are you going?” You quietly asked since you were confused.

“To sleep on the couch while you sleep in my bed. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay first.”

“Joey, no. I'm not kicking you out of your bed and besides, I don’t want to be by myself right now.” You confessed as you grabbed his hand.

He nodded as the two of you both got settled, Joe was closest to the door while you were closest to the window. After making sure you were comfortable, he reached over to turn off the lamp that was on the bedside table. That was when he heard your voice once more.

“Joey?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for always being there for me. Even when I might not deserve it.”

At this point in time, you were honestly surprised that he even answered the door and let you in, but knowing the type of person he is, he wouldn’t have reacted any differently.

“I'll be here as long as you want me to be and you deserve the world. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

—

You didn’t know how long you were laying there, but sleep was the last thing taking over your body. Noticing that Joe's breathing also hadn't slowed, you turned around to face him and at the same time you heard his voice.

“Princess? You still awake? You need to go to sleep.”

“I can't sleep. I'm still so scared, I know he's going to look for me sooner or later.”

“You’re safe here and no one is going to touch a hair on your head. I can promise you that.” He told you as he stroked your face and placed a light kiss on your forehead as he was able to make out your features in the dark by the moonlight peeking in through the curtains.

“Come here.”

Joe then wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him as he then leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips which you quickly returned.

All of this led up to a heated make out session with Joe now hovering over top of you as his hands reached underneath his shirt that you were wearing. His fingers lightly grazed your nipples and he then began to roll them between his fingers as he noticed that your bra that you had been wearing had been long forgotten which he was thankful for.

Before he lifted his shirt over your head, he asked for permission to make sure you were absolutely sure about wanting to do this. Joe had wanted you from day one, but if you weren’t ready to do this he was willing to wait until you were.

“Are you…?”

“Yes. I was sure earlier tonight and I'm sure now. I know the last thing I'm ever going to regret is being with you.”

Once he peeled the shirt away from your body, he now had full access to you. The plan was to take his time so he could give you the undivided attention that you deserved since he knew for a fact that Trevor wasn't giving it to you without even having to ask you about it.

His mouth found its way to one of your nipples and he began to lightly suck on it while continuing to roll the other one in between his fingers before switching making a moan escape your mouth.

“Mmm, fuck.”

“I'm going to make you feel so good, princess.” He whispered against your lips before kissing them.

The increase in wetness between your thighs was evident as you Iet out soft quiet moans from the sensation of having him explore your body with his mouth.

As he moved further south, Joe's fingers ran along your folds as he saw how wet you actually were.

“This all for me? I've barely even done anything and your body is responding like this?” He asked you as he placed one kiss on each inner thigh.

As you nodded, he inserted one finger and soon worked himself up to two before settling in between your thighs and beginning to pleasure you with his tongue.

After a few minutes, he noticed you starting to squirm and firmly wrapped his arms around your legs in the hopes of limiting your movement.

“Stay still for me princess.” Was all you heard as your hands found a way to his hair and was softly tugging on it, hoping to bring him in closer.

With the use of his tongue along with his fingers, a new sensation unknown to you was building in the lower half of your body and at the same time, Joe began to suck on your clit.

“Oh, shit….”

Joe felt your hands trying to push him away from you, but all he did was tighten his hold on your legs making sure you had no way to get away from him.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You won't be able to if you keep moving away from me.” Joe asked you as he had come up for air, but immediately went back down.

“Yes.” Was all you said as he began to suck harder.

It took no time at all for you to feel like you were seeing stars as Joe continued to pleasure you.

It was official.

Joe had given you your first orgasm.

He gave you a few minutes to recover as he was placing kisses up and down your thighs before sliding off his sweatpants along with his boxers as he opened the bedside table to pull out a condom. It was still obviously dark in the room, but you could literally see because of the light coming through the windows past the curtains, how big he was and you suddenly became nervous.

You thought to yourself that there was no way in hell that he was about to fit.

Joe could sense this as he was putting the condom on and quickly tried to reassure you.

“No reason to be nervous, baby. It's going to fit. Most important thing is that you have to relax for me.” He told you while leaning down to lightly stroke your face.

“Okay.” You quietly said in response, but you still weren’t convinced. But at the same time, you knew that Joe had no reason to lie to you.

Once he positioned himself in front of you, he reached down to kiss you and once he pulled away from you is when you heard his voice once more.

“You ready, princess?”

You nodded, but that obviously wasn’t enough for him.

“I need words, you need to say it. I’m not doing anything unless you do.”

“I’m ready.”

Once he finally heard it, you felt Joe slowly entering you and you tightly closed your eyes. As you did this, Joe immediately felt your body tense up.

It would have probably been a good idea to tell him that you had never had sex before before all of this began happening, but knew that he would be as gentle as possible with you regardless.

That's just the type of person he was when it came to you.

“Princess, you have to relax. It's me and the last thing that I am ever going to do is hurt you. When I told you that I loved you, I meant it. Every word.” He quietly said as he leaned down to kiss you.

You nodded and several more kisses were placed on your lips when you felt him easing the rest of the way into you at the same time making you gasp as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You're okay, I got you baby.” Joe told you as he gave you time to adjust to his size before he made any sudden movement.

Kisses were planted along your neck and shoulder as you were adjusting to a new feeling that you had never experienced before. It wasn’t quite to the point of pleasure, however you weren’t necessarily in pain either.

It felt weird.

About a minute or so had passed when you slowly felt him begin to move and you wrapped your arms around him tighter.

Now all you felt was pleasure as moans escaped from your mouth when Joe began to increase his pace.

In order to go deeper and at a better angle, Joe held onto your hips before deciding to wrap your left leg around his waist.

“If you want this as bad as you say you do, keep those legs spread. Fuck you feel so good around me, just like I knew you would.”

Since your arms were already tightly wrapped around him, his face was in the crook of your neck as he had now leaned forward.

Making that sudden change in position, he was now hitting the same spot over and over again and you just knew that it was about to send you over the edge sooner or later.

You were thinking that it would probably be sooner.

“Fuck, Joey stay right there.” You breathed out as he lifted his head to steal a quick kiss from you.

Doing what you had asked him to, his movements increased in pace while also becoming sloppy at the same time making you think that he was just as close as you were.

“Joey, I…” You trailed off as a weird sensation was building in your stomach once more and you knew it was happening again.

The second orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks and you felt like you had gotten the wind knocked out of you.

As Joe heard your soft whimpers, he placed kisses all along your shoulder blade as you rode out your high.

He placed another kiss on your forehead before he slowly slipped out of you making you wince and went to throw away the condom.

Once he had come back, he had a washcloth with warm water in his right hand as he started to gently glide it onto your body in order to wipe you off.

When he was finished, he threw it into the hamper and laid back down beside you, ultimately pulling you on top of him. Your eyes began to become heavy between Joe rubbing small circles along your back and listening to Joe's heartbeat.

Your eyes fluttered open from hearing the television on a low volume and you could only assume that Joe was already awake. Once he noticed that you began to stir, he peeked down at you seeing as you were still laying on his chest.

“Good morning, princess.” He softly said before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Good morning. What time is it?”

“It’s almost nine and I was about to wake you up since I know that you have class at ten and it takes you five to seven business days to get ready.”

“Really, Joey?” You replied as you rolled your eyes.

“I call it like I see it. I always tell you what time I’m going to come and get you, however, I’ll be downstairs waiting in the car while you only still have one of your lashes on.”

“You get on my last nerve.”

“But did I lie?”

When Joe was met with silence and another eye roll from you, all he did was laugh.

“I guess I have to go and get ready then.” You told him as you sighed, not wanting to leave his embrace.

“We can do dinner later and have a study date…. With or without clothes.”

“JOSEPH!”

“What? What’d I say that was wrong? I was just giving you options!” He exclaimed as he then held up his hands in defense.

“I’m ignoring you. What time are we doing our dinner and study date?”

“As soon as you get out of class, just come back here.”

“I’m honestly a little nervous to go back to my apartment.” You said being completely honest.

“Just get some of your things and you can stay with me, you know that I don’t care and the most important thing is that you’re safe. I have to go to class too, but I can call Ja’Marr…”

“NO! Baby brother asks too many questions. I’ll be fine. The security guy who works there is super nice and I know if I tell him I don’t feel all that safe he’ll walk me to my apartment door.”

“As long as you’re sure. But call me if there’s a problem, understand?”

“Understood, Mr. Burrow.”

—-

Joe was still running off of the high from this morning as he had woken up to the sight of you beside him. He was walking to his last class of the day on campus when he did a double take as he spotted you in front of one of the many libraries that he knew was near a few of your classes. But who he saw you with was why he instantly became upset.

You were talking to Trevor, who of course he despised and for good reason.

He couldn't tell what the nature of the conversation was by your body language and it almost looked as if Trevor was barely paying any attention to what you were saying which wasn’t unusual.

So, did last night mean nothing to you?

Joe was watching you for a few more minutes until he looked down at his watch and noticed that if he didn't leave now that he would end up being late to class.

At this point, he was done trying.

If that's who you wanted, then fine.

And he made it up in his mind that he was done.

Completely.

Throughout the day, you were calling him and sending him text messages, that ultimately went unanswered making you nervous.

You deserved to get an explanation on why he was suddenly acting this way towards you and immediately hopped into your car after packing your bags that you were going to take in order to stay with him and quickly drove to his apartment.

The banging on Joe's door instantly annoyed him seeing as he just sat down to watch one of the many NBA games that we’re coming on that night. He glanced at the clock to see that it was barely 6 pm and had a feeling that it was you.

A deep sigh escaped his mouth before he got up to answer it. Once he did, he was met with you just as he suspected and you had a pissed off look on your face and Joe raised his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Yes? Did you need something?”

“So, you can have sex with me, but then suddenly ignore me? I may be little, but I will kick your 6’4 ass and throw a dumbbell at your head.” You asked him and pushed your way past him into the apartment.

“It's not even like that so stop jumping to conclusions.” Joe replied as he closed the door behind you.

“Then tell me so I can understand, Joey! Because you have me confused. You claim to want me so bad and then end up ignoring me all day!? When I called you multiple times? Who does that?”

“Because I saw you with him! Why the fuck are you even talking to him? Hasn’t he hurt you enough?”

“Now look who's jumping to conclusions.” You said as you crossed your arms.

“Then why else would you be with him? You did tell me recently that you were going to give him another chance. Recently as in yesterday before we had sex so I simply thought she claims she loves me, yet she's still going back to him.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before you said anything else to him.

“You are literally so annoying. I went to talk to him to break up with him! Last time I checked you did confess that you loved me or did I not get that right?”

“Oh.” Joe quietly said and you couldn't help but to roll your eyes.

You started to make your way back towards the door in order to leave when you felt Joe suddenly pull you back as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Let me go. I'm mad at you.” You said as you were trying to wiggle out of his grip.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed anything.” He replied as he turned you around to face him and leaned down to kiss you.

“No, don't kiss me. Turn me loose. Leave me alone. All you literally had to do was just ask me.”

“I know, but seeing you with him just pissed me off and so I walked away. I promise it won’t happen again. You forgive me? I’m not letting you go until you say you do.” Joe asked you as he squeezed you tighter and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“I guess.” You muttered as he led the both of you over to the couch as Joe sat down first and then pulled you onto his lap.

“So, is it official now?” You asked him as he had been focused on the game that was playing on the television.

“Is what official?”

“Me being LSU's star quarterback Joe Burrow's girlfriend.” You teased as you kissed the tip of his nose.

“You've been mine for a while. That ex-boyfriend of yours was just keeping my spot warm. I bet he never made you feel as good as I did last night.” Joe told you as he was wiggling his eyebrows as you both then let out a laugh.

“No, because I never had sex with Trevor.”

Joe immediately stopped laughing and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Wait, huh?”

“I never did because I told him that I wanted to wait. That was one of the only things he actually did respect, but I know for a fact that he's probably cheated on me multiple times because of it, but I just ignored it.” You replied while being completely honest.

“Uh, princess? Don't you think you should have told me that? Fuck did I…? Shit. I would have made it a lot more special if I would have known. I would have had candles and…”

“Stop it. It was perfect. Everything was perfect.” You cut him off as you kissed him and tried to reassure him.

“I waited for the right person who I knew for a fact was going to treat me right.”