#no need for imaginary enemies girl

[atenceladusiaawfytbwb]

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣Unflowologing a lot of creators that turned out, I despised them, and or slightly inconvenience me, but mostly that, you know omg🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣 🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🔈🔊🔉🔉🔉🔉🔉🔊🔊🔊🔊And I share this because I'm currently hot angry,

and right, ironically and as joke sure, but also seriously, heartfully, I'll share what I think

I myself create a little, somewhere else, and is small, tiny, but I do like what I do and treasure it. Still can't imagine the level of disgust some get to feel against those who don't experience/enjoy/interact a certain way with it. Maybe I've just havent done something myself that I love so much, and put so much work into, that I turn into "ugh you don't have the right - block me if you don't like it not my problem- if you like but don't reblog you are literal thrash - some of you are so entitled to my work - didnt ask for you opinionnsonyou can go f urself and i may have reacted completely different to other interactions like yours positively with the only diference that what was told appealed to my very own perspective but that has nothing to do with the way im being mean and smug to you because the problem is that what you just said is objectively dumb and I cant believe you hadnt guessef id react negatively and that doubles my disgust towards you and i better never hear you enjoy anything made by me because I, a pixel on the web, condemn thy, another pixel on the web to never have acsses to my works publiced here, publicly and freely, on the internet. And you better do as I say, or what? Are that much more of a disgusting person-" Que finding other unrelated stuff (truk6 unrelated like wtf) to add on to why this one (person b/anon/fan/anyone) is very wrong and therefore this other one (person a/creator/anyone) is right, superior even, Que too that if public other people (unrelated too) have to show that much despise towards B or they are disgusting enablers supporters idk

And it is quite specific, I know, but it has happened enough times with different people/situations to be a thing.

Like an anon hey could I (something. Not mean or entitled (no, not related to ai use at all (obviously?))) And oh boy the answer. Oh boy, like: oh so you think that you can (a bunch of awful stuff the one asked got out of their ass bc was nowhere on the ask/comment) the audacity, omg wtf, the nerve- and the revlogs are of other people tagging stuff like ph yeah I can't believe it like the mental problems this annon must have'

I have a decent social understanding, I think? No, there wasn't condescending undertones or something to read between lines, unless you want to, because then you can do that about anything. Giiiirl like ioiiffffffoooofff I got ooooofff wtf fuck is so wrong with them bitch just called them stupid or dumb and move on? A paragraph on why bdjshdhdhdhfhd I can't write anymore idk fucking fuck fuck FUCHCFUCKFU K SGU K SHIT BITCH FUCK

[seaweedstarshine]

Sometimes I think of Amy Pond, who grew up being called mad by those who wielded the word as a tool of exclusion and shame —

Amy Pond, who though forced into the hands of four psychiatrists, still clung to that which they called madness until those systems which elevate psychosocial conformity above humanity stripped it from her —

Amy Pond, whose imaginary friend reappeared for a single hour after twelve years and reignited that faith before disappearing for two more years —

Amy Pond, who spent those those two years under the same implicit threat ingrained in her through psychiatric violence, and thus began to believe the man who stopped the invasion was “just a madman with a box,” only for him to agree, and to also call her “mad, impossible Amy Pond,” reframing madness as non-negative for the first time in her life —

Amy Pond, who ignored the disembodied voice of her imaginary friend even as she ran away with him for real, who still lived each day with the traumatic internalization of deviancy dictated upon her by the psychiatric-industrial complex that shaped her from childhood —

Amy Pond, who wouldn't acknowledge the Doctor's voice, such that it took an Angel in her eye that was literally killing her to ensure she couldn't reality check herself —

Amy Pond, who stood before a room which muttered about “the psychiatrists we brought her to,” and though afraid, escaped their rigid parameters of acceptable existence.

[auroracalisto]

i was made for lovin' you

fem!plus size!reader, 2.4k words summary: the reader loves benedict bridgerton. when he dances the night away with her dear sister, she wonders if her love is perhaps... unrequited. a/n: my initial note for this fic was: i was the chubby unpopular insecure girl in school. i'm still the chubby girl. and i need fluff today. so that's what's gonna happen. i initially started writing this... last year. it's been over six months ago since i've touched this. the title is totally from the kiss song. tw: bodily description, vague description of anxiety, momentary insecurity, but it's brief!!

Curves adorned your body in a way that remained otherwise unknown to so many others. Thick thighs hid beneath layers of clothing. Your stomach pressed against the fabric of your top, threatening to squeeze the very essence of life out of you. But you stood there, discomfort climbing its way up your spine, threatening to call you out for being a fraud. You lived in peril, awaiting the blossoming of the flower of insecurity and fear.

No gentleman would ever look your way, even with the most expensive of clothing. Liquid gold could be dripping from your fingertips, and not one of the men in the 'ton would give you the time of day.

At least, that is what you told yourself. That is what you had believed since the time you could register the fact that you were the thicker girl.

And it's not that you hated your body. No, that was far from the truth. You had come to love yourself in your own way, trying your best to live with what the world had given you. But you knew men, and you knew the gentlemen of the 'ton. You were treated differently, just because of your size.

You were different.

But he never treated you as if there was something wrong with you. No, Benedict Bridgerton was your dearest friend, but you couldn't help but feel as if he never truly cared for you in the way that you cared for him.

The way that you loved him.

You had yet to properly talk to him, knowing his elder brother hosted the ball of the evening. It wouldn't surprise you if Benedict was busy entertaining other gentlemen—entertaining your sister, perhaps.

The clothing you wore that night was flattering, for the most part. You couldn't deny that. Your mother had chosen well for the ball, keeping your mind at bay. She had impeccable taste, regardless of the crude comments that so often left her rouge lips. But despite the clothing, despite the restricting fabric, you couldn't help but watch and feel less than others around you.

Especially when you knew the man you favored was out there, fawning over your sister (not even liquid gold would work in her favor—she merely needed to raise a finger, and men would fall to her feet, begging for a chance to be hers).

The beautiful women who danced passed you, hand in hand with a suitor or with a dear gentleman. Their dance cards were nearly filled at this point. The stunning men wore beautifully tailored suits, sending smiles and small nods to those they spoke with. Well-rounded pencils would need to be sharpened before too long.

You stuck out like a sore thumb in the corner of the ballroom, drawing imaginary attention right to your very soul.

Your dance card rested in the palm of your hand, not a single gentleman's name residing on it. Like many balls before, suitors avoided you—or perhaps, you avoided them. Staying in your safety corner seemed to be the best bet, but you knew it would catch up to you (eventually).

There wasn’t a possibility for a suitor to come to you, unless he wanted whispers to be spread. You were an outcast.

You made yourself an outcast. But perhaps our worst enemy came from our very own minds, taunting us and keeping those we love far, far away.

Had you been your elegant sister, dancing the night away with the handsome Bridgerton boy amongst many other men, maybe you would have felt more comfortable.

Her card was completely filled, and now, she milled around with her friends, looking for a gentleman to speak with. The season wouldn't last forever.

And you knew it.

The season would be over in a heartbeat, and you would be left without a single name on your dance card.

How incredibly frustrating. You knew you were beautiful. You knew you had a grand personality, fit for that of a gentleman. You were smart and intelligent and you knew how to do so many things.

But standing here, you felt as if your clothing was choking you to the point of no return. It didn't matter that you could read a book in a day, or recite your favorite poetry. It didn't matter that you learned to cook from your favorite maid, or that you could write a piece of prose so beautifully it brought tears to your delicate sister's eyes.

Warmth flooded throughout your body. You hesitantly pulled up the fabric of your skirts and made your way to the crowd, finding the cool night in an instant. The chill of the breeze cooled you down the best it could, but it could only do so much for the roaring fire in your mind.

Your mother would surely have yet another snide comment about the fact that she did all this work just for you to avoid the crowd. Your father would listen silently, but you knew he agreed. He always did.

Your sister would yet again set on a suitor, her beauty and gracefulness the only blessing upon your family. She would be set for life while you die a lowly spinster.

Maybe she would bless you with a quaint cottage of your own. She'd be able to marry the richest man in the 'ton, if she was so pleased to say yes.

You walked closer to the fountain that sat in the middle of the courtyard, eyes closing as you came to a stop. The chatter and music from the manor wafted in the air, and the smell of freshly trimmed grass plagued your nose. Goosebumps appeared on your skin as the air around you only seemed to get cooler. Perhaps outside wasn't your best decision, but anything was better than the scrutiny of roaming eyes.

Solitude found you best, creativity striking you when you were all alone—most of the time. Today, it only brought you a fraction of the comfort you sought.

Despite your indiscretion, you weren't alone for very long.

"Lady L/n?" a voice came from behind you.

Your eyes shot open and you looked over your shoulder.

Benedict Bridgerton.

He had danced with your sister nearly three dances ago—you hadn't seen him since then.

He sent you a soft smile, relaxing when he saw you.

"May I ask what you're doing out here all alone?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you said. "Sir Bridgerton."

His smile only grew.

The two of you had known each other far longer than you would ever admit, and every time you saw him reminded you of why you fell for him to begin with. But he belonged with someone else—he would be good for them, and marrying into a family of money would secure the safety of the woman's future and her family's future.

You would take what you could get, even if it meant waiting until your father made you a match… if even he could manage such a feat. He quite hated the idea of society. It was your mother who pushed him into the world, making him do good by the ‘ton and his family name.

Benedict deserved someone good—someone who would boost his status in society, and always be there to love and care for him.

Many weren't so lucky with their marriages (your mother and father, for example).

"That's no way to talk to a gentleman, now is it? Whatever would your dear mother say if she were to find out how you speak to me?" he asked, feigning offense as he placed a hand over his chest.

"Trust me," you said, turning to face him with a soft smile. "I promise she will find little problem with it when she knows you are on Katherine's card."

"Hm," he tilted his head as he watched you. "And who have you danced with, Lady Y/n? I have yet to see you out on the dance floor tonight, and now I find you all alone. It feels as if autumn is already upon us. Surely you don't want to catch a cold as well?"

"I have danced with no one," you said, looking back at the fountain. "And you surely shouldn't be here with me, alone. Quite a scandal you'd create for your sister to cover up."

"Is that not why she is the Duchess? So I can create whatever scandal I dream of?"

You could practically hear the smug smile on his face, but you didn't turn to face him. Your arms hesitantly wrapped around your torso as you continued to stare at the flowing water.

"Y/n?" he softly spoke, coming to stand beside you. "Are you alright?"

His hand touched your cold arm and you immediately pulled away.

"Should you not be back inside with Katherine?" you asked. "It will be quite a scandal if you were to be out here with me."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What is with you and scandals? Nothing of the sort will happen. I'd much rather spend the rest of the evening with you."

You frowned. "If you must, perhaps we should return inside. You should sign my dance card to keep my mother from asking questions."

"I would do so, gladly, Y/n, but I did not think you wanted me to do so," he said, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke.

"Why wouldn't I want you to?" you began, averting your gaze. "You know me better than I know myself."

He tilted his head curiously. "I do believe there are things I've yet to acquire," he said, gently taking your hand as he spoke. This time, you didn't pull away. "Whatever is the matter?"

"You are a dear friend, Benedict," you said. "I would never want to do something to put our friendship in jeopardy."

"Perhaps you will if you continue alluding me so. I asked you a question, my Lady."

A beat passes, the music coming from inside becoming light and jovial for the newest dance. Your sister was already dancing with another, enjoying herself and smiling all the while. Not that you could see.

"Y/n, please," he said, voice barely above a whisper—defeated, one could safely say.

"I care for you," you said. "If—if my sister is what you want, if she will make you happy, then by all means, you have my blessing."

He blinked slowly at you, lips parting to speak, but you speak first.

"I understand why you care for her so. She is beautiful, and she will be an excellent wife. She is so unlike me. She... she will make you so unbelievably happy, Benedict."

"Wait."

His fingers laced with your gloved hand as he gently pressed his other to the side of your face, making you look at him.

"Where is this coming from?" he asked, allowing his hand to drop. "Who said... who said I was interested in her?"

"No one. Nothing needed to be said for me to assume. Did I assume correctly, Lord Bridgerton?"

He chuckled softly, tilting his head as he watched you. "Not at all, my dear," he said. "You are so far from the truth that it is quite... comical."

"Comical?" you blurted, looking up at him in disbelief.

"Your sister was... helping me. I had planned to ask you in such a grand manner that I needed some assistance. Perhaps her planning skills would be far superior to mine when it comes to an event such as... well..."

"An event? What—what have you been planning, Benedict?"

His eyes softened. Were you blind? Or had he been so secretive with his feelings for you that you remained oblivious to the fact that he loved you more than life itself?

"Benedict, please," you said. "We do not have all night. They will notice we have left the party, soon enough."

"I wanted to know what would be best to ask you," he said.

"Ask me what?"

"To marry me, Y/n."

Time stood still. Big eyes stared up at him in disbelief, lips parted as you swam in an ocean of words, but nothing broke the surface. Was he serious?

"Benedict—"

"—will you marry me, Y/n?"

"I—"

"—I had planned on asking you soon, with flowers and a ring, and perhaps a grand occasion so the gentlemen knew you were taken, but—"

"—Benedict..."

He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to say no. He could see it in your eyes.

"You want to marry me?" you asked, hand holding onto his. "You... do you... I care for you, deeply, Benedict."

"And I, you, Y/n."

You searched his eyes for a sign—for an answer, perhaps. You had dreamed of this night for so long, and here it was, front and center. He cared for you. He wanted to marry you.

"I will," you said.

He released a breath, suddenly pulling you into his arms. You said you would. Yes. The answer was yes. Benedict would marry his best friend.

Benedict fought the urge to kiss you, despite knowing you would allow him.

“Let us return,” he softly said. “Perhaps you should inform your mother of your latest rendezvous.”

Your eyes widened a bit.

“Of course, I will be with you. Wouldn’t she enjoy seeing that?”

Your lips spread into a soft smile. “Yes. She would.”

Benedict took your hand and led you back to the porch. No one else stood outside.

“I will return first,” he softly said. “I will find your sister, and then, I will come and find you.”

“Oh, you do not want a scandal, dear Benedict?” you asked, a grin forming.

His eyes hardened as he looked back at you. “Would you like a scandal, Lady Y/n?” His voice betrayed the look he gave you, and instantly, his hard look dissolved into a smile. “Allow me to return. We will have enough gossip to go around once the news has broke in the ‘ton.” He took your hand again and pressed a kiss to your gloved knuckles. “Until we meet again.”

“I will see you inside,” you said, smiling all the while.

Benedict left you, and you waited merely a few minutes before you returned. You remained blissfully ignored, and for once, you appreciated the fact. You found your mother in an instant, and only when Benedict found you again did you tell her the news.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Anhedonia 2/2

Word count: 5,5 k (part 1) and 4,4 k (part 2)

Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader Tags: SMUT 🔞🔞🔞 Literally just unadulterated, deranged filth, plot is there for decoration. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Mutual pining, sexual tension (duh), blood & injury, p in v sex, oral sex (m receiving), mutual masturbation, cum all over the place, light humiliation, dirty talk, some praise, swearing, mask stays on, fluffy/reconciliatory ending. Summary: Reader is a Task Force 141 operator and a terrible brat (and suffers the consequences of it later). Enemies to lovers/toxic relationship that takes a healthy turn in the end. Read PART 1 here

"Wha' a good girl you are now…"

His first words hit you like a moan-inducing massage, but you stay silent and steady in your resolve.

"Good soldier, too. We just need to get you to follow orders so that you don't get hurt," he speaks gently.

There it is, finally – a good girl and a good soldier. You have to mentally bind your hands behind your back and place an imaginary gag in your mouth not to chirp and bounce up from joy. It's pathetic, but it's also harrowing: Ghost never meant to fuck with your head; he only wanted to keep you safe. But then he causes another riot in your brain with the next thing he says.

"Such a beautiful sight… You'd make a fine pet."

- - - - - - - - -

You go to offer your apology the next day after sleeping on it.

You feel like you're the most horrible person in the world. And yet, when you knock on his door and call yourself in when only a silence answers, the scalding gaze that locks into you like the sights of a gun remind you why you said what you said.

It's like the man has struck a knife in you, and twists it just to see you squirm. And you do: it's a telltale sign that you've been claimed when you kneel in the middle of his office while he sits behind the same desk he rutted you on less than 20 hours ago.

He says nothing. You wait, equally as quiet, like you're waiting for a pardon from Caesar.

The atmosphere is mellow: his shutters are closed but one window is creaked open, allowing birdsong and summer wind on trees to pass through to his otherwise stale office. It stirs the softest, small smile on your lips as you look at him, adamant and all locked up.

Your knees hurt, but he eventually breaks first: something you hadn't even calculated might happen. The brimstone of his eyes steal a breather to the side, then come back to you with a tinge of confusion in them.

Then he lifts his chin, lifts a hand, a command for you to approach.

Your smile only softens as you go around his desk, and he pushes the chair away with one foot, turns to meet you as you fall on your knees again, then on all fours before starting a slow crawl to him.

His eyes go wide, his head draws back as if you approaching him like a housecat is the most threatening situation he has ever been in.

You have planned this through, and he has the instincts, the sixth sense of a seasoned hunter as he opens his legs wide to make space for you.

He certainly doesn't stop you as you free his erection from the sturdy cargo pants and offer your apology by taking him in your mouth.

He knows what's coming but still gasps and grabs the arms of his chair with white knuckles. You're on your knees, seemingly domesticated, but he's the one begging for mercy before you have even begun. He's heavy in your mouth, but you welcome the weight with greed and a hot tongue.

His thighs travel wide and far, just like yours did last night. The first moan is divine. He eases into the chair while the muscles on his stomach and thighs twitch and shudder.

A pair of boots echo in the hallway behind the door, the sound soon disappearing into the distance. Anyone could walk in at any given moment, and the notion makes your head feel dizzy.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't disclose in any way that he is considering forgiveness.

But eventually, he starts to melt upon your tongue like a snow-covered mountain ridge basking in the sun. Something in the way with which you work him slowly and with gusto makes him send a hand on your head. It strokes your hair softly.

"Wha' a good girl you are now…"

His first words hit you like a moan-inducing massage, but you stay silent and steady in your resolve.

"Good soldier, too. We just need to get you to follow orders so that you don't get hurt," he speaks gently.

There it is, finally – a good girl and a good soldier. You have to mentally bind your hands behind your back and place an imaginary gag in your mouth not to chirp and bounce up from joy. It's pathetic, but it's also harrowing: Ghost never meant to fuck with your head; he only wanted to keep you safe. But then he causes another riot in your brain with the next thing he says.

"Such a beautiful sight… You'd make a fine pet."

You give him some teeth for that. Just the lightest scrape as you arrive near the base of his cock. He hisses, then laughs.

"Careful, love."

It's the first time ever you've heard him properly laugh. The sound implements itself into your core, your spine, your DNA. It's genuine and hearty, and the summer brushes past the open window to your face in a reviving breeze. Combined with the dark musk of his laughter, it makes your heart flip, and a small, tickling giggle bubbles inside you too. It arrives muted against his cock, but it's a magnificent moment – you two laughing together, even if for a second, even if yours is just a huff of an exhale against his pelvis.

"You don't like the idea?" He asks you a question as if you didn't have your mouth full of him.

His offer is alluring – of course you'd like him to take you as his pet. You could get good food and caresses, get to curl next to him when he goes to sleep. He could show you off like a domesticated animal if he wanted to. He could parade you down the street on a leash, and you would only purr as you go.

But while the proposition is enticing, you leave him with no answer, knowing it will only intrigue him if you don't say yes.

"I would be good to you," he starts to slip, and you up the pace a little. Open your jaw as far as it can go to accommodate him as much as you can, the soft hood of his cock meeting the back of your throat.

"So good– nh..." You can almost hear how his head rolls back, and you catch yourself worrying if he might hurt his neck because the chair has no headrest.

You do it again, and again, almost choking while trying to show him how good you are, how well you can take him and what your tongue can do too. You nearly stumble while you're at it, so lost in him, and you have to reach for support to prevent yourself from falling.

Your hand finds his leg, clutches the khaki that hugs a broad thigh. You flinch when a hard, heavy palm descends on top of yours. It brushes a thumb over the back of your hand as his sighs travel through the stagnant air, rampant and unchallenged through the fabric of his mask.

"Be my pet, sweetheart," he prays, growing weaker by the second. It's like a charm that transforms you into a priestess, a Babalon whore, a scarlet woman who adores men before sending them off to war.

His hips buck, he starts to clutch your hand like you're a rope that's going to save him from drowning. The other hand is more gentle in grip, but mercenary in demand as he grabs a fistful of hair to guide you along his length. Your gag reflex almost shoots him out of your mouth, but he is relentless.

He knows you can take it.

"That's it–that's it, luv," he rasps, and every other noise gets shut out of your brain as you go deaf to the sonic world. You can feel his thighs bunch and tremble around your head, the earthquake under your fingers pressed against hard, lifeless textile when they should be scraping his skin instead. He opens like a woman, massive legs spread hungry and wide as he shoots a load in your mouth. Ample, abundant, even if he just filled you to the brim not too long ago.

You drink him dutifully, greedy for the praise of a job well done, but such a thing never comes. He just breathes heavy over you, sounding happy, the happiest man on earth. You lick him clean, although there's really nothing to clean except your own saliva. The cock glistens, jolts happily one last time after you're done.

"I can make you scream on that desk," he offers while his hands release their death grip on you. Your hair gets tucked behind your ear, he even squeezes your hand briefly like you're his most trusted companion. His cock is flaccid, so you assume he's offering his fingers, perhaps even his mouth to you.

You'd like nothing more than to know if he has a stubble under that balaclava. To see if he would kneel on the floor too to shove his face between your legs while you're splayed over that desk. If he would forget about the door too, making it possible for anyone to catch him with his nose up your cunt. For Soap or Gaz or even Price to see how the broody commanding officer is just a thirsty hound dog on a bowl.

But then again, you just worked yourself up to a shattering orgasm. Two times, actually – deliberately, before you came here. The taste of his cum on your tongue will have to suffice; hell, it's almost better than him finally fucking or licking you into a deranged bliss.

You sense another opening, can't just help yourself…

"Thank you, sir. But that won't be necessary."

- - - - - - - - -

You begin to fear that you're the narcissist here. The way you make him twist and turn like a corkscrew, the way it makes you feel to see how he spirals deeper into madness. Even your eyes are too much for Ghost, who avoids your stare on missions but hunts you down at the base.

"What does it take?"

He ruts you whenever and wherever he can, in the toilets if need be, too busy to haul you into his room after a mission. You just so happened to pass him by, and it was the nearest space with a lock on the door.

"What the fuck does it take?"

The static hum of the bright, unyielding light and the smell of chlorite oozing out of tile seams is everything but a romantic setting as he drives into you from behind and watches you through the mirror on top of a small sink – watches how you give him nothing.

You're trying to take support from the white porcelain even though he's holding you firm against his chest with that inked arm wrapped around your middle. You want to spread your legs for him but can't, since he barely had time to rip your pants down before getting himself out as well to fuck you, so you settle for admiring how vulnerable he looks while he tries his all to please you.

"Do I have to take the mask off? That it?" He's far from a calm and collected lieutenant as he sweats black paint and despair. "Ya want my mouth? Just say it. Promise I'll make you cry."

You laugh at him through the mirror. It's an involuntary, spontaneous action, and you can't really help it. The man is absolutely adorable… And here you have been, fearing him for weeks without realizing he's just another lonely soul.

He doesn't know your strategy. He doesn't know that it's just you and your hand that are his worst enemy.

"What're ya laughin' at?"

You bite your lip, allow him to see mischief and a quivering smile, wet, adoring eyes paired with simple silence. He could force and command and bully you, but he doesn't do it.

Who's the pet now?

"Obviously, you like my cock," he grunts. "Always wet 'n' ready to go, like a fuckin'–"

It ends in a huff before a potential slur comes out.

Truly a gentleman…

"You let everyone 'ere have a go at you?"

He ticks like a time bomb inside you.

"I'm the last to get to fuck you? Huh? I get the fuckin' scraps, is that it?"

He doesn't need slurs to tear you down, but on the other hand, Ghost only reveals more of himself with the insults and assumptions he hurls at you.

He's desperate, crying for it, longing to be the one who makes you cry and scream and purr. Be your one and only.

"No," you hum. "I'm all yours, Lt."

He blinks a few times, exhausted lids fall to cover most of his eyes, and the stare tells you he has entered a dreamworld.

"I'm–," he groans with a broken voice. "I'm… Fuck–"

You shiver with ecstasy – his orgasm is a better reward than anything else he could ever give you. He collapses again, even more humiliated than the day before, or the day before that. He doesn't seem to care anymore. His hips press you against the cold sink, and you fear the porcelain is going to break under your combined weight. He doesn't slip out. Instead, Ghost tucks his mask on top of his nose to catch breath.

He has a shadow of a stubble, a stern jaw, and the notion makes your walls pulse. Thin lips part to gasp for air, his blazing chest heaves behind your back, threatens to topple you all over the sink and against the mirror already misty from your mingled heat.

And the mask was lifted for a whole other reason than to catch some precious air.

He presses his lips against your bare neck, breathes you in with mouth slightly open. Pants, like a tormented beast.

"You almost got killed," he whispers on your skin. Your heart leaps, and he still doesn't slip out…

"Took that blast and those bullets f' me."

Your heart flutters; it competes in rapidness with the blinks of your lashes. He's gentleman enough not to raise his head as you swallow some panic.

"Why did you do that?"

You can't tell him it wasn't even that heroic. That the ultimate reason was just to get his attention. To get him to proudly acknowledge what a good, talented little soldier you are. His girl.

The thick, softening heat inside you is too much. It shouldn't be this close, he shouldn't be this close. Tears are not allowed; they would be the end of you. The end of the fucking world. Your doom.

Claustrophobia makes it a shaky business to tiptoe him out of you, to slither and struggle out of his embrace and yank your pants up, fight your way through the cramped space and out of the door.

- - - - - - - - -

He suspects something.

And of course he does: the man is not a clandestine operations expert for nothing.

You usually do this in the morning, knowing you won't get another chance before he steals a moment with you. But this morning, you slept in and know that you're in the biggest danger ever. If he catches you before you're satisfied and immune, you're dead.

Everything's been fucked up ever since you met him. He's like a sickness, and you've fallen ill. You're practically bedridden because of him.

You have to use a toy because your hand is not enough anymore, and you fear that one of these days you will climax while he's inside you.

The funny thing is, you forgot to lock the door.

Maybe it's a subconscious wish – to end this sickness and receive some healing.

And the perfect healer walks in like he owns the place. Owns you.

Your heart shoots up your throat at the sound of a door opening to your most sacred space while you're most relaxed, spread naked on the bed, nipples perked up and pointing to the sky.

You forgot to lock the door…

The chant arises right before he emerges like a dark mountain after opening that weak, thin piece of plywood that separates you from civility and prudence.

You forgot to lock the door you forgot to lock the door–

He freezes the exact moment his eyes hit on you. He's a northern slope that never catches sunlight while you're at your weakest, most vulnerable, leaking around a toy made out of plastic, trembling naked and full of goosebumps from the sudden cold he emits.

"You fuckin' little…"

His chest rises and falls, then he slams the door shut, locks it without ever taking his eyes off you.

He understands the mystery to the full. It unravels before him clear-cut like the steps of a mission he knows by heart before even entering the field. You can't move, can't speak, but you clench around the lifeless substitute of him, far smaller and a thousand times more tame than what he has on offer for you. The throb is simply a reaction to how he looks at you while he realizes the entirety of the childish trick you've managed to pull, a game – some stupid little antics of a stubborn, lovesick girl and nothing more.

"Alright then. Let's hear it."

"Mhm-"

He takes a step, chest puffed up and shoulders wide, eyes burning under the chalked white skull.

"Go on then. Get on wit' it."

You obey like never before. He watches how you push the lavender-colored toy fully inside, up to the hilt, and let out a shy, sad whimper. The first of many cries to come.

Ten soldiers in one man approach your bed, stand tall all around you as you gaze up at him like he's a god. He's panting by the time he gets himself out of his jeans. His eyes scourge you as he takes his cock in hand and starts to pump in sync with you.

He makes more noise than you do at first. You make him falter by changing the speed from slow and languid to shallow and quick. He tries to keep up with you like it's a race, eyes darting from your quivering mouth and wet stare to your soaked pussy.

You sigh and moan, fuck yourself sloppy, dirty, and he looks like he's about to lose his mind and burst.

"Good girl," he says with a charred voice, a soft rasp that hits you with a delicious heat. "Such a good fuckin' girl."

You swallow tears and love, give him moans and sighs, even a high-pitched mewl or two.

Somewhere along the way, you notice you're following his cue and rhythm instead of your own, and the way the angry bulge of his tip disappears into and reappears from his fist dries your mouth right up, makes your eyelids heavy. You're breathless and incoherent, far too close to the mountaintop — already were before the actual mountain even walked through that door.

You have to slow down to brace yourself for the pleasure that swells.

"Oh– oh my god…"

Your sigh is a final admission: how he is a literal god to you. His hand claps against his balls as he pleasures himself, angry as fuck and as relieved as anyone could be when they find out that their heartthrob is just a delightful little minx instead of a cruel, heartless woman.

Everything shakes and quakes and shifts, your insides shudder, your walls grip lavender when they want to grip a man. The skull tilts, the man who compels you is like an avatar of death, but his eyes are hazel longing.

The scream is celestial, wreathed in needy pain, and his shoulders sigh and shake as he watches you come for him.

"Yeah… That's it, fuck that's sweet." He doesn't slow down, quite the opposite: he beats his flesh like a maniac as you slowly but surely come down, squirm on the bed, still clutching the toy as your pussy throbs around it. If it was his cock, you fear the grip would never release him.

"Here comes," he gives an announcement, weak and breathless, rough and mean. Ropes of cum hit your breasts, neck and face, and his eyes are those of a fallen angel. Your chest rises and falls in shock and adoration as he works himself to the last of it, drips of heat dropping on the sheets, the last spurts not powerful enough to reach you from where he is standing.

When he's done, he raises his hand, like the strings of hot lust are some sort of an art piece you're supposed to gawk at.

"There ya go luv," he wipes his hand clean with you, on you. The sticky semen coats you from face to navel, and you half expect him to smear it all over you.

But he doesn't.

He forces the heavy, teary cock back inside the confine of his pants like he's mad at himself and not you.

Then he drops down like a shadow, making you quail again – one hand sinks with a fist on the pillow next to your head, the other sweeps all gentle across your belly and down over your mound. He takes hold of your hand, uses it to ease the toy slowly out while leaning over you, keeping you as a prisoner with his hawklike stare. He pulls more than just the small, harmless toy out of you: a moan or two, a final confession, but he's not pleased. You two are far from even, and he knows it, and he's fucking done. You can see it in his eyes that he's ready to quit.

He leaves you empty and barren, with just a toy to keep you company, heads for the door like a storm cloud.

"Simon…"

He walks away, much slower, but still. Leaves a memory of your shared hate and love on the doorknob as he turns it, as you start to panic.

"Don't leave," you wheeze.

Don't leave me.

Tears prick and burn your eyes as the room turns into a dismal, empty space at the very thought of living without him from this day forward.

"Please."

He opens the door a crack. Probably to let the ghosts out, because after opening it and hearing your heart-wrenching, helpless sob, he closes it.

By the time he turns and walks back to the bed, you're crying like a baby. Finally crying for him, utterly exposed. It's not the way either of you had meant for things to go, it's not the sobbing and wailing he wants.

Still, you expect him to feast on your tears as well, watch with glee how you curl into a fetal position while covered in his cum. You don't want to see it, so you close your eyes before he rapes you with his stare.

"Sweetheart."

But his voice shatters a heart. So tender that it washes over you in waves as you repeat it inside your head like a lullaby.

"Sweetest…" he trails off into somewhere, some obsidian space that stretches out before you, between you, until you cross that space with no effort at all. Meet him in the middle.

"Yes, love..?" Your own shaky voice is a mirror of his compassion as you pledge yourself to him. A warm hand brushes your cheek not seconds after, dries a tear away, adds to the heat that pangs on your face.

You open your eyes to dare a peek up. He has the same wet look in his eyes as he did when he found you in the rubble, bleeding for him.

"You did well today," he says, voice laced with love. You don't know if he means you did well at work or on this bed just now. What makes the praise scary is that it's authentic, the way he adores you with both word and touch. It breaks you into smaller pieces still, and your voice comes out as a needy whimper.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

You hope he would take you in his arms, just the way he did weeks ago. You still remember how it felt to succumb to his warmth and the soft tang of gun oil and smoke that always surrounds him. Now you're only shrouded by the scent of tears and salt.

"Must be due to a good leader," you whisper.

He cocks his head, the hand halts, hovers over you, a last suspicion.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Your hands are crossed over your chest, palms on opposite shoulders, shielding you from him. But you open them as he lays down and settles beside you, takes you in his arms, and presses your head to rest on his heart, underneath his chin. The massive palm covers half of your head, but the predatorial weight is gone. He only feels like home.

"Look at you, ya silly little thing… Always gettin' yourself into trouble." He brushes your beef off with a few words and an imply that you're just a blameless, stubborn little thing who he can't be mad at even if he wanted to. And it feels like the sickness finally starts to pass, that it was just an odd inflammation, a passing fever that made you so delirious. You anchor in, slither an arm under his to take support of the bedrock of his back.

He caresses you, makes you sob in his shirt from the sudden overdose of gentleness. His cum dries somewhere between your skin and his clothes as he swallows, then asks you about the mission that went wrong.

"Why did you do it?"

He's not an idiot. Surely he knows why by now. He only wants to hear it because he's stubborn like you, but also in desperate need of love and affection.

"I think you know why." You're exhausted, only able to breathe through your mouth, but the bitterness from your tone is gone. Lost, somewhere in his shirt that smells of ferrous solitude. You wonder what your combined scent, your togetherness, will smell like. It must be something sweet. Promising, like a refreshing summer rain.

"Yeah."

He caresses you slowly now, until his hand comes to rest on top of your head, making sure you won't escape his sanctuary.

"Never do it again," he commands, so soft, voice only a smoked whisper. "Love. I need you to promise me."

"Mh."

"Promise me."

You're feeling sleepy and spent, and he's to blame for it – he simply feels too good. You decide that your first kiss can wait just a little while longer. It's only wonderful; to have something lovely and pure to wait for.

"I promise…"

You drift off to sleep, cradled by the safe slopes of his mountain.

[dandelionjack]

an essay about Rogue, The Chimes of Midnight, and how i believe all this ties in to the overarching themes of the series EVEN IF the inside-a-tv-show theory proves untrue

“Rogue” named himself after a stock character. he is the archetypal Handsome Rogue because there has to be a Handsome Rogue role in a period drama story set in Austenesque Regency England.

it’s all theatre — smoke and mirrors. just like the war waged against imaginary foes in boom (because there needs to be an Enemy in a wartime story) was theatre; the creation of the Bogeyman in space babies (because there needs to be a Scary Monster in a children’s bedtime story) was theatre; The Woman following Ruby in 73 yards (because there needs to be a Ghost in a folk horror story) was theatre. dot and bubble less so, but it’s wise to note — the dots created the slugs after all. they invented the slugs so that there would be a tangible Creature for the finetimers (and the Doctor) to fear, rather than simply being betrayed by their own technology. because that’s exactly what the false, harmful narratives colonialists tell themselves — stories of taming and conquering a wild Mother Nature and her ferocious beasts — have trained them to expect from the world. the dots were telling a story too, or rather putting on a play.

the penultimate episode of any doctor who series, if not always leading directly into the two-parter finale, will typically begin to tie up loose narrative strands that have stretched across the entire season. at a first impression rogue doesn’t seem to be doing that. but then you take a closer look at the antagonists: creatures that play a role for fun without the slightest regard for those around them. lethal LARPers. cosplayers out to kill. to put it pretentiously, a hyper-realistic theatre of cruelty.

to nobody’s surprise, i’m bringing up my favourite eighth doctor audio drama — the chimes of midnight. edward grove gives every person trapped in the time loop a designated role: the chauffeur, the doctor-detective, the plucky young lady of the house, the lady’s maid, the scullery girl, the housekeeper. they keep playing these roles, over and over, until they begin to forget their original identity, until the part they’re playing takes over their entire sense of self. the servants keep dying over and over because they cannot transcend their roles, because they believe themselves to be “nothing but a scullery maid”. they are reduced to the parts they play in the narrative until they become nothing outside of it, until they become confined to a single location.

the chimes of midnight is set in Edwardian-era England, a time of restrictive, prescriptive class, status and social roles which defined a person’s life and career trajectory — this strict delineation is driven to its logical conclusion and deconstructed under the unnatural conditions of Edward Grove. similarly, rogue is set in a Regency-era mansion — another historical period defined in the popular imagination by its complicated social rules, elegant courtship dynamics, strict class barriers, gossip and elitism. these two doctor who stories don’t have any intentional watsonian connection, but they are deeply linked on a thematic level.

high society is forced theatre. a 24/7 LARP. play your part, put on your costume, don’t interrupt the performance. the audience is waiting. they’re oh so hungry for tragedy.

the biggest part of them all, the most sought-after role, of course, is The Doctor. a standard to live up to. a name to wear like a banner, a pledge, a promise. he has to be like this because this is what he’s like.

the Scullery Maid scrubs the kitchen floor. The Detective searches for clues. the Chauffeur starts up his car. the Duchess hosts a glittering soirée. the Rake hides a secret fling with the Wallflower. the Rogue breaks hearts and broods on the balcony.

and the Doctor? the Doctor dances. “onwards and upwards”. forever in perpetual motion, spinning and spinning and spinning across the stars. never pausing to breathe. never stopping.

p.s.: so, pray tell, what is Ruby Sunday in all this? “The Companion”, of course. smart, funny, sassy, quick-witted, brave, cheeky, curious, self-sacrificial. she almost feels generic because she’s meant to be. she wasn’t born. she was written. an essential part of the story too. circling the Doctor like a satellite forever.

[taes-kookie-blog]

ENHYPEN AS 'THE TYPE OF GUY TO' MEME

pls give me requests btw

-

SUNGHOON

sunghoon's the type of guy who...

offers to carry your books for you

likes his own posts from multiple accounts

says 'is anyone here?' in a haunted house

opens a bag of chips with scissors

licks his finger to turn the page

eats pizza with a knife and fork

buys defected items just so they get bought

-

HEESEUNG

heeseung's the type of guy who...

sends a goodmorning and goodnight text everyday

asks a girl if she's today's date

writes reviews for apps on the app store

hangs out with his friends and say 'i really needed this..'

answers facetime calls super close up

blows on icecream

-

SUNOO

sunoo's the type of guy who...

makes a wish at 11:11

stops at red lights in GTA

says 'oopsie daisy' when dropping something

says 'ouchies' when he stubs his toe

makes decisions by saying 'eenie meenie miny mo'

opens the blinds and says 'what a beautiful day!'

-

JAY

jay's the type of guy who...

says 'well well well' when he encounters his enemies

says 'that's what she said'

slaps his leg while laughing hard

closes the fridge with his hips

says 'no more mr nice guy..' when he's angry

looks into an imaginary camera when something dumb/funny happens

-

JAKE

jake's the type of guy who...

says easy peasy lemon squeezy after doing something easy

says 'here comes the tickle monster!' to his homies

rubs his hands and says 'let's dig in!' before eating

covers his friends eyes from behind and says 'guess who'

eats out of the fridge standing in front of it

loudly exhales after sipping a refreshing drink

-

JUNGWON

jungwon's the type of guy who...

says 'pretty on please with a cherry on top' when he wants something

sleeps like '*snore* mimimimi *snore* mimimi'

says 'use the magic word' when u ask him for something

says 'is somebody cutting onions?' when tearing up

says 'he's right behind me isn't he...' when someone's behind him

enjoys minion memes

-

NIKI

niki's the type of guy who...

pretends to smoke a lollipop

says 'geronimo!' before canonballing into a pool

says 'we've got company..' when someone unwanted arrives

blows on a hot drink and sticks his pinky out to drink it

laughs in a fight and says 'i thought he was gonna hit m-' then gets hit

barks back at dogs

-

hope u enjoyed pls send requests in my inbox im so bored and out of ideas...

[thehusbandoden]

Last request I'm sending in today! Sorry if it's too much! Again feel free to skip any of these! :) I'd like to see headcannons for first kisses! Can be with anyone! I just want some fluffyness. :>

A/n: I might have gone a little overboard with Shoto's lol but I can't really help it 😅.

I hope you're well! You can talk to me if you ever need to! <33

First Kisses Headcannons (Denki, Kirishima, Shoto, and Shigaraki)

General info:

Genre: fluff, a teeeeeny bit of angst in Shiggy's \\ wc: 1,988 in total \\ posted: 12/5/2023 \\ requested

Warnings!: (Only in Shigaraki's) taking an injury for someone else, Shigaraki dusting someone, death (an enemy). Pls let me know if I miss any! <33

Kaminari Denki: (420 words)

My goodness this boy was so excited.

He had beed crushing on you since he laid eyes on you, and stopped flirting with other girls once he realized that you were his one and only.

Poor baby didn't really know how to court you so he just flirted.. a lot.

You didn't know that he actually liked you, so you teased him a bit by acting clueless or straight up ignoring him.

His pout was just so cute.. you couldn't help it.

After a few weeks of this you noticed that whenever he was around another girl he didn't flirt with her like he used to. He was polite and respectful.

After studying his behaviors you realized that he actually liked you, and you couldn't help but get really flustered.

You were crushing on him as well, and so it worked out pretty well.

You started to casually flirt back, grinning as his eyes light up and his imaginary tail wagged furiously.

After a few months of flirting back and forth Denki gathered up the courage to confess to you.

(Plus he was scared of being beaten to death by Bakugo because he was taking too long lol.)

He asked you out on a small date the following weekend. His heart was pounding against his chest and he was sweating profuesly. Little schocks ran up and down his arms and spine.

When you agreed he almost kissed you right there and then, but he knew that that wouldn't look good, so he controlled himself.

He took you out on a lovely date, and even managed to hold his hand.

While walking he accidently shocked your hand a few times, but they were so small you just smiled at his cuteness.

The two of you went on a few dates after that before finally becoming official. That night, you two were walking back to the dorms when you found yourselves outside in the middle of the cold.

Denki was grinning down at you, and you couldn't control yourself.

You leaned up and kissed him softly, your hands on his shoulders.

The kiss took him by surprise and he didn't react for a few seconds. Once he recovered he quickly kissed you back, accidently shocking your lips with his own.

He immediatly pulled back, apologizing profuesly. You giggled, watching his cuteness for a few minutes before reasuing him that you were okay, and asking him for another kiss.

His face turned red and he eargerly agreed, kissing you much more carefully this time.

Kirishima Eijiro (217 words)

You and Eijiro had decided to wait until marriage for any intimacy.

It was hard, and you almost broke the agreement many times.. but thirteen long months later, and it was finally your wedding day.

It was all perfect, just how you and Eijiro had imagined it.

You shared your vows, Eijiro tearing up as he expressed his deep and unconditional love for you, and you doing the same.

And then came the kiss.. as soon as the officiant said the words Eijiro pulled you into a long awaited kiss.

His lips were on yours as he held you in his arms. The kiss was magical, and well worth the wait.

Though neither of you had any experience, the kiss was perfect. It was filled with your love, devotion, and loyalty to one another.

After a few seemingly endless moments Eijiro pulls away, smiling down at you, tears in his eyes.

The rest of the day was filled with one another, you stayed glued to each other's side and shared many more kisses, unable to resist giving each other pecks as you talk with your close friends and family.

The day was amazing, and very memorable. Through out the years you reunited your first kiss whenever you made up after fighting, had an anniversary, or had something exciting happen in your lives.

Shigaraki Tomura (325 words)

Shigarki has major trust issues, so he wouldn't be intimate with anyone unless he really trusted them..

Shigaraki fell in love with you shortly after you joined the league of villains, but he didn't trust you.

He pushed you away for months, confused and hurt by his feelings.

Eight months later, the league was raiding another villain's hideout, not realizing that they left a few villains as defense.

One of them fired her quirk at Shigarki. You noticed seconds before it happened.

You had just enough time to push Shigaraki out of the way, using your body as a shield.

As he saw a lightning bolt pierce your chest his eyes went wide. He immediately started seeing red as he caught you, glaring up at the villainess that dared touch his y/n.

After checking your pulse, he gently placed you on the floor before sprinting towards the villainess. Unprepared, she hardly had any time to defend herself before he placed a hand on her forearm, watching her decay with a crazed grin on his face.

After she was just a pile of dust he immediately made his way back to you, demanding that Spinner go check the rest of the perimeters for more enemies.

You were in bad condition, and you would probably die in a few hours without medical attention.

Kurogiri teleported both you and Shigarki to a trusted ally, and he patched you up rather quickly.

Shigaraki stayed by your side as you rested, and he was the first thing you saw when you gained consciousness.

Not saying anything, he pressed his lips against yours. They were flaky and obviously weren't taken care of, but you didn't mind as you kissed him back.

After a few moments he pulled back, staring into your e/c eyes.

"You're an idiot." He growled, moving a strand of hair out of your face with three fingers.

"Your idiot." You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Yes.. my idiot." He murmured, blushing slightly.

Todoroki Shoto (1,006 words lol 😅)

You and Shoto have been dating for a few months. Due to both of you being socially awkward, the closest thing you've done is hold hands and hug every once in a while. Both of you are popular pro heroes, and work around seventy hours in a week.

You both have Saturday and Sunday off, so you usually sleep for several hours before going out on dates and just hanging out. When you're really tired or just really missing each other, you'll come over and just straight up cuddle and sleep.

It was a very intimate thing between the two of you, and it was quite rare.

By the sixth month of being together, Shoto's family wanted to meet you.

As soon as Shoto heard he immediately shut it down.

But.. after some convincing from Fuyumi and Rei, he accepted on the condition that you stay next to him the entire time and that either of you have the right to leave whenever you desire.

The dinner was planned on Sunday night, two days later.

Shoto was very stressed, worried that his old man would belittle or judge you.

He was extra clingy, staying up an extra two hours to pick you up from your shift and bring you home. Each time was accompanied with a hug and an 'I love you', which was still new to the two of you.

He couldn't sleep Saturday morning. He was pacing around his apartment the entire time, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

After a few hours he drove to your place, accidentally waking you up from a nap. He apologized, and almost gave up on his idea.

You reassure him and invited him in, asking him why he was awake.

He told you that he couldn't sleep and that he wanted to cuddle.. you agreed of course, blushing as you felt Shoto hug you against him.

He was asleep within two minutes, causing you to quietly giggle.

When it was time to head over he held your hand tightly as he drove, still anxious. You gently stroke his hand in an effort to calm him, which did work to a certain extent.

He continued to tightly hold your hand as he walked through the door. Fuyumi and Rei were waiting for him, smiling as they started to gush over how attractive you were and taking your hands.

Shoto trailed behind you as they dragged you to the living room, cooing over every little detail about you.

They talked with you for quite a while, putting Shoto at ease. You started to open up, smiling and blushing as they complimented you in every sentence. Rei even mentioned something about having grandchildren..

After about half an hour Natsuo walked in. He blushed when he saw you, causing Shoto's eyes to narrow in jealousy. He kept quiet though, watching you as Natuso introduced himself. You were polite, but didn't react to his obvious attraction which made Shoto smile.

Everyone sat down as Fuyumi started to serve dinner. Shoto stayed close to you as he anxiously waited for Endeavor to show up.

Everyone started eating and chatting with you when Endeavor walked in. His large build caused you to grow nervous as you held Shoto's hand under the table.

His eyes traveled his family until he targeted his cold gaze on you. He stared at you for several seconds before moving to sit down next to Fuyumi. Rei kept her gaze trailed on you and Shoto, not even acknowledging the man.

After several tense and silent minutes Fuyumi spoke.

"Y/n kun this is Enji, or as you know him Endeavor." She smiled nervously, trying to make conversation.

You didn't say anything as he stared at you, studying your every movement.

After a while he let out a huff as he started eating. Both you and Shoto let out a relieved sigh.

It was peaceful for a while as you continued eating. Shoto kept hold of one of your hands, still sticking as close to you as possible.

Dinner was eaten in silence until towards the end, when Endeavor decided to speak.

"So.. Shoto, this is your girlfriend?"

"Yes.. this is y/n. I love her very much, and I don't care what you think about her." His words caused you to blush as you squeezed his hand.

Endeavor scoffed. "I expect that she has an outstanding quirk.. yes?"

Shoto's glare hardened. "It doesn't matter what her quirk is."

Endeavor's eyes narrowed. "So you're saying she doesn't have a good one?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying." Shoto growled, his protectiveness flaring.

The tension grew as Endeavor and Shoto went back and forth on the matter. After a while Endeavor's words turned sour.

"How can I trust your judgement? I kept quiet about her appearance but I will not sit here and ignore her quirk. This is the future of my grandchildren!"

"It is not your place to be concerned about grandchildren. We will have children if we desire, and their quirks won't matter." Shoto growled.

They continued to grow more heated and they started to just straight up throw insults at one another. After a particularly nasty one towards Shoto you stood up, glaring.

"Take that back." You hiss, your e/c eyes hardened in rage.

Endeavor scoffed, and the two of you started arguing. You were growing extremely protective over Shoto, and refused to back down.

Unsure what to do, Shoto stood up as well and dragged you outside. Before you could protest he placed his soft lips on yours, completely occupying your mind.

After a few moments you pull away, smiling. "Shoto.." you murmur, caressing his cheek.

"I don't care about what that d-bag thinks.. I love you and I'm going to spend my life with you." He murmured, placing his own hand on your cheek. "If you'll let me..."

You smiled wider, choosing to answer with another kiss instead of words.

It was inexperienced and kind of awkward, but it was filled with love for one another. And that's all that matters.

~~~~~

Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here <3

Denki's Masterlist | Kiri's masterlist | Shigaraki's masterlist | Shoto's masterlist

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <33

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

[ori-anna-v-58008]

Rampart Reengaging

[ATTEMPTING TO REESTABLISH COMMUNICATION WITH PILOT…]

"What do you mean attempting?"

"It's not easy to wake these things back up without proper software, give it a bit."

"You're hopeless. Give me one good reason to ever let you work on her again."

"Sure thing. I'm the only one willing to do your dirty work. That suffice?"

"Shut up and work. We still need this one."

"Yeah? Who's we? Last I checked, your little pet project wasn't exactly popular with Command."

"…Maybe they've taken a shining to it."

"I doubt it. How many millions did this thing cost them?"

"The cost that she incurs is ultimately of no consequence. She gets results."

[COMMUNICATION SUCCESSFUL. PILOT ONLINE.]

"Hah. Whatever you say, [REDACTED]."

"Wait. It's working again?"

"Seems that way. Welcome back, Rampart."

The first thing you heard outside the vast emptiness that had taken over your universe was the telltale sound of Handler's knuckles smacking clean across someone's face. You flinched on instinct.

"Don't call it that."

[WARNING: VISUALS NONFUNCTIONAL.] [WARNING: SPEECH MODULE NONFUNCTIONAL.] [WARNING: PERSONALITY MATRIX MALFUNCTION DETECTED. SEE NODE MARKED "LOUD NOISES".]

"God, you do not make yourself pleasant to work with, do you? Let me see if I can fix that error…"

"No! It needs that. That PM is loaded with responses like that, and it needs every one of them."

"I'm sure traumatized kamikaze pilots are so much better at crashing than ones that aren't."

"She doesn't run. She slams her eyes shut and the thrusters on. Jumping at loud noises makes her destroy them faster. They put those responses in them for a reason.

[PILOT INPUT: "Handler? Is that you?"]

You liked getting to hear Handler's voice again. You weren't sure where your own went, or if Handler had any means of understanding you at all. It was humiliating and frustrating to not be able to use your voice. You weren't entirely sure what you did to deserve having it taken away. In spite of this, you accepted it instantly.

"Give me a summary of the most recent memories you have on file." You giggled, even if no sound came out.

[PILOT INPUT: ""The Pilot of the Rampart was successful in defeating an overwhelming opponent". That's all I have."]

"Correct. Good girl."

[ADMINISTERING REWARD…] You couldn't feel your face enough to know what expression you made, but you knew you couldn't control it.

"You call that a summary? Shit was literally a single sentence." You didn't like this other voice. Handler's silence made you wince as much as the smack sound you heard earlier.

"Do you believe our enemies survived that explosion?" You heard drops of tension in her voice like slipping a poison into tea.

"No."

"Do you believe any other witnesses exist?"

"Your extreme interest in friendly fire makes it seem unlikely."

"So this is the only account of the assault that exists. It contains all relevant information, does it not?"

"You must think command is so fucking stupid, [REDACTED], If you think they're just gonna throw their hands up about [REDACTED] pilots and [REDACTED] dollars getting smashed to bits--"

Your hands clenched around imaginary triggers when you heard the gunshot. Your audio processor was able to filter out most of the mechanic's screaming, but it was imperfect - you heard her loud, sharp inhales before she wailed again and again.

"S[]t []p or th[] nex[] one []oes through your head." Handler's voice was caught up in the screaming and got glitchy. The mechanic was reduced to hurried breathing. You clung onto every sound you could from her lips, knowing she would do anything and everything if it meant keeping you safe.

--

This story is part of a series. To read the beginning, please click here.

[taylor-on-your-dash]

WRITING OF FOLKLORE & EVERMORE TIMELINE

“I used to put all these parameters on myself like, ‘How will this song sound in a stadium? How will this song sound on radio?’ If you take away all the parameters, what do you make? And I guess the answer is... folklore.”

December 18, 2019: Taylor records my tears ricochet. On folklore: long pond sessions, she confirms that my tears ricochet was the first song written for TS8 and she knew right away that it would take the 5th spot on the track list.

“I found myself being very triggered by any stories, movies, or narratives revolving around divorce, which felt weird because I haven't experienced it directly. There's no reason it should cause me so much pain, but all of a sudden it felt like something I had been through. I think that happens any time you've been in a 15-year relationship and it ends in a messy, upsetting way. So I wrote "My Tears Ricochet" and I was using a lot of imagery that I had conjured up while comparing a relationship ending to when people end an actual marriage. All of a sudden this person that you trusted more than anyone in the world is the person that can hurt you the worst. Then all of a sudden the things that you have been through together, hurt. All of a sudden, the person who was your best friend is now your biggest nemesis, etc. etc. etc. I think I wrote some of the first lyrics to that song after watching Marriage Story and hearing about when marriages go wrong and end in such a catastrophic way. So these songs are in some ways imaginary, in some ways not, and in some ways both. It’s definitely one of the saddest songs on the album. Picking a ‘Track Five’ is sort of a pressurized decision but I knew from day one this was probably going to be it. It’s a song about karma, about greed, about how somebody could be your best friend and your companion and your most trusted person in your life and then they could go and become your worst enemy who knows how to hurt you because they were once your most trusted person. Writing this song, it kind of occurred to me that in all of the superhero stories the hero’s greatest nemesis is the villain that used to be his best friend. When you think about that, you think about how there’s this beautiful moment in the beginning of a friendship where these people have no idea that one day, they’ll hate each other and try to take each other out. I mean, that’s really sad and terrible.”

March 5-12, 2020: Band rehearsals for Lover Fest. The band rehearsed 32 songs and Taylor sings on a few.

March 11, 2020: Taylor lands in LA. She'll stay there for the whole lockdown until May 22nd.

March 19, 2020: The state of California issue a stay-at-home order. The lockdown starts. During the Eras Tour, Taylor says that she started writing songs with Jack soon after. It's possible that illicit affairs and august were two of the first songs, as Taylor confirmed that august was the first song she wrote for the Love Triangle. This first version of august doesn't include the bridge.

[Taylor about illicit affairs] This was the first album that I’ve ever let go of that need to be 100 percent autobiographical because I think I needed to do that. I felt like fans needed to hear a 'stripped from the headlines' account of my life and it actually ended up being a bit confining. Because there’s so much more to writing songs than just what you’re feeling and your singular storyline. And I think this was spurred on by the fact that I was watching movies every day, I was reading books every day, I was thinking about other people every day. I was kind of outside my own, personal stuff. I think that’s been my favorite thing about this album: that it’s allowed to exist on its own merit without it just being, ‘Oh, people are listening to this because it tells them something that they could read in a tabloid’. It feels like a completely different experience.

[Taylor about august] In my head, I’ve been calling the girl from ‘august’ either Augusta or Augustine. What happened in my head was: ‘cardigan’ is Betty’s perspective from 20 or 30 years later, looking back on this love that was this tumultuous thing. I think Betty and James ended up together. So in my head, she ends up with him but he really put her through it. ‘august’ was obviously about the girl that James had this summer with. She seems like she’s a bad girl, but really she’s not. She’s a really sensitive person who fell for him and she was trying to seem cool and like she didn’t care because that’s what girls have to do. And she was trying to let him think that she didn’t care, but she did and she thought they had something very real. And then he goes back to Betty. So the idea that there is some bad, villain girl in any type of situation who ‘takes your man’ is a total myth because that’s not usually the case at all. Everybody has feelings and wants to be seen and loved. And Augustine…that’s all she wanted.

[Taylor] I was really excited about "August slipped away into a moment of time/August sipped away like a bottle of wine." That was a song where Jack sent me the instrumental and I wrote the song pretty much on the spot; it just was an intuitive thing. And that was actually the first song that I wrote of the "Betty" triangle. So the Betty songs are "August," "Cardigan," and "Betty." "August" was actually the first one, which is strange because it's the song from the other girl's perspective. It would be safe to assume that "Cardigan" would be first, but it wasn't. It was very strange how it happened, but it kind of pieced together one song at a time, starting with "August," where I kind of wanted to explore the element of This is from the perspective of a girl who was having her first brush with love. And then all of a sudden she's treated like she's the other girl, because there was another situation that had already been in place, but "August" girl thought she was really falling in love. It kind of explores the idea of the undefined relationship. As humans, we're all encouraged to just be cool and just let it happen, and don't ask what the relationship is—Are we exclusive? But if you are chill about it, especially when you're young, you learn the very hard lesson that if you don't define something, oftentimes they can gaslight you into thinking it was nothing at all, and that it never happened. And how do you mourn the loss of something once it ends, if you're being made to believe that it never happened at all?

Taylor had previously written down the phrase ‘Meet me behind the mall’ in her phone years ago, wanting to write it into a song.

April 17, 2020: Lover Fest is cancelled. Taylor writes mirrorball and this is me trying shortly after.

MIRRORBALL

On folklore there are a lot of songs that reference each other or have lyrical parallels and one of the ones that I like is the entire song 'this is me trying' then being referenced again in ‘mirrorball,’ which is, ‘I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try’. Sometimes when I’m writing to an instrumental track I’ll push ‘Play’ and I’ll immediately see a scene set and this was one of those cases. I just saw a lonely disco ball, twinkly lights, neon signs, people drinking beer by the bar, a couple of stragglers on the dance floor. Sort of a sad, moonlit, lonely experience in the middle of a town you’ve never been. I was just thinking that we have mirrorballs in the middle of a dance floor because they reflect light, they are broken a million times and that’s what makes them so shiny. We have people like that in society, too. They hang there and every time they break it entertains us. And when you shine a light on them it’s this glittering, fantastic thing. But then, a lot of the time when the spotlight isn’t on them they’re just still there, up on that pedestal but no one is watching them. It was a metaphor for celebrity but it’s also a metaphor for so many people. Everybody has to feel like they have to be ‘on’ for certain people. You have to be different versions of yourself for different people. Different versions at work, different versions around friends. Different versions of yourself around different friends. A different version of yourself around family. Everybody feels that they have to be in some ways duplicitous and that’s part of the human experience. But it’s also exhausting. And you learn that every one of us has the ability to become a shapeshifter. But what does that do to us?

THIS IS ME TRYING

“I’ve been thinking about people who are either suffering through mental illness, addiction or who have an everyday struggle. No one pats them on the back every day but every day they are actively fighting something. There are so many days that nobody gives them credit for that and so, how often must somebody who’s in that sort of internal struggle wanna say to everyone in the room: ‘You have no idea how close I am to going back to a dark place.’ I had this idea that the first verse would be about someone who is in a life crisis and has just been trying and failing in their relationship, has been messing things up with people they love, has been letting everyone down and has driven to this overlook, this cliff, and is just in the car, going, ‘I could do whatever I want in this moment and it could affect everything forever.’ But this person backs up and drives home. The second verse is about someone who felt like they had a lot of potential in their life. I feel like there are a lot of mechanisms for us in our school days, in high school or college, to excel and to be patted on the back for something. And then a lot of people get out of school and there are less abilities for them to get gold stars. Then you have to make all these decisions and you have to pave your own way. There’s no set class course you can take. I think a lot of people feel really swept up in that. And so I was thinking about this person who is really lost in life and then starts drinking…and every second is trying not to.”

March/April 2020: the lakes was also done remotely, but written before Taylor started collaborating with Aaron, placing it between March and April 2020:

[Taylor] “We’d gone to the Lake District in England a couple years ago. In the 19th century you had a lot of poets like William Wordsworth and John Keats who’d spend a lot of time there. And there was a poet district, these artists that moved there. They were heckled for it and made fun of for being these eccentrics and kind of odd artists who decided that they just wanted to live there. I remember thinking, ‘I could see this.’ You live in a cottage and you got wisteria growing up the outside of it…of course they escaped like that. And they had their own community of other artists who’d done the same thing. I’ve always, in my career since I was probably about twenty, written about this cottage backup plan that I have. I have been writing about that forever. I went to William Wordsworth’s grave and just sat there and I was like, ‘Wow. He went and did it.’ And you kept writing but you didn’t subscribe to the things that were killing you. And that’s really the overarching thing that I felt when I was writing folklore: I may not be able to go to The Lakes right now – or to go anywhere – but I’m going there in my head. The escape plan is working.”

[Jack] On one of my favorite songs on folklore, “The Lakes,” there was this big orchestral version, and Taylor was like, “Eh, make it small.” I had gotten lost in the string arrangements and all this stuff, and I took everything out. I was just like, “Oh, my God!” We were not together because that record was made [remotely], but I remember being in the studio alone like, “Holy shit, this is so perfect.”

This version of the lakes was released on folklore's first anniversary.

April 24, 2020: For his birthday, Aaron Dessner goes on an Instagram Live where he plays a bunch of songs including “Gaite” aka “happiness” and “Stella”, like his daughter, aka “invisible string”

April 27-28, 2020: Taylor contacts Aaron Dessner and asks him to work with her. He sends her a folder of instrumental tracks he had recorded over the years. The first one that inspires Taylor is called “Maple” which will become cardigan. She sends back a voice memo, and right after, she posts a selfie on Instagram with the caption “Not a lot going on at the moment”. What a troll.

[Taylor] The song is about a long lost romance, and why young love is often fixed so permanently within our memories. When looking back on it, why it leaves such an incredible mark and how special it made you feel; all the good things it made you feel, all the pain that it made you feel... The line about feeling like you were an old cardigan under someone's bed, but someone put you on and made you feel like you were their favorite.

[Aaron] That’s the first song we wrote. After Taylor asked if I would be interested in writing with her remotely and working on songs, I said, “Are you interested in a certain kind of sound?” She said, “I’m just interested in what you do and what you’re up to. Just send anything, literally anything, it could be the weirdest thing you’ve ever done,” so I sent a folder of stuff I had done that I was really excited about recently. “cardigan” was one of those sketches; it was originally called “Maple.” It was basically exactly what it is on the record, except we added orchestration later that my brother wrote. I sent [the file] at 9 p.m., and around 2 a.m. or something, there was “cardigan,” fully written. That’s when I realized something crazy was happening. She just dialed directly into the heart of the music and wrote an incredible song and fully conceived of it and then kept going. It harkens back to lessons learned, or experiences in your youth, in a really beautiful way and this sense of longing and sadness, but ultimately, it’s cathartic. I thought it was a perfect match for the music, and how her voice feels. It was kind of a guide. It had these lower register parts, and I think we both realized that this was a bit of a lightning rod for a lot of the rest of the record.

[Taylor] “The quality that really confounded me about Aaron’s instrumental tracks is that to me, they were immediately, intensely visual,” Swift wrote in an email. “As soon as I heard the first one, I understood why he calls them ‘sketches.’ The first time I heard the track for ‘Cardigan,’ I saw high heels on cobblestones. I knew it had to be about teenage miscommunications and the loss of what could’ve been. I’ve always been so curious about people with synesthesia, who see colors or shapes when they hear music. The closest thing I’ve ever experienced is seeing an entire story or scene play out in my head when I hear Aaron Dessner’s instrumental tracks.”

Aaron Dessner shared a screenshot from when Taylor sent him back cardigan.

April 29-30, 2020: Taylor writes seven and peace. seven is the only song that was entirely recorded at Long Pond.

SEVEN

[Aaron] This is the second song we wrote. It’s kind of looking back at childhood and those childhood feelings, recounting memories and memorializing them. It’s this beautiful folk song. It has one of the most important lines on the record: “And just like a folk song, our love will be passed on.” That’s what this album is doing. It’s passing down. It’s memorializing love, childhood, and memories. It’s a folkloric way of processing.

PEACE

[Taylor] “I think this is a song that is extremely personal to me. There are times when I feel like with everything that’s in my control, I can make myself seem like someone who doesn’t have an abnormal life and I try that every day. It’s like, 'How do I make my friends, and family, and my loved ones not see this big elephant that’s in the room for our normal life?' Because I don’t want the elephant in the room. If you’re gonna be in my life I feel like there’s a certain amount that comes with it that I can’t stop from happening. I can’t stop from you getting a call in the morning that says, ‘The tabloids are writing this today.’ I can’t help it if there’s a guy with a camera two miles away with a telescope lense taking pictures of you. I can’t stop those things from happening. And so this song was basically like, ‘Is it enough? Is the stuff that I can control enough to block out the things that I can’t?' So it makes me really emotional to hear this song.

[Taylor] To know that a lot of people related to it who aren’t talking about the same things that I’m talking about. They’re talking about human complexity. It’s about someone who you wanna provide with peace, someone you love, so you want them to have as much peace in their life as possible and reconciling the fact that you might not be their best option for that. But is it still a deal they wanna take?

[Taylor to Paul McCartney] peace is actually more rooted in my personal life. I know you have done a really excellent job of this in your personal life: carving out a human life within a public life, and how scary that can be when you do fall in love and you meet someone, especially if you’ve met someone who has a very grounded, normal way of living. I, oftentimes, in my anxieties, can control how I am as a person and how normal I act and rationalize things, but I cannot control if there are 20 photographers outside in the bushes and what they do and if they follow our car and if they interrupt our lives. I can’t control if there’s going to be a fake weird headline about us in the news tomorrow.

[Aaron] “I wrote this, and Justin provided the pulse. We trade ideas all the time and he made a folder, and there was a pulse in there that I wrote these bass lines to. In the other parts of the composition, I did it to Justin’s pulse. Taylor heard this sketch and she wrote the song. It reminds me of Joni Mitchell, in a way — there’s this really powerful and emotional love song, even the impressionistic, almost jazz-like bridge, and she weaves it perfectly together. This is one of my favorites, for sure. But the truth is that the music, that way of playing with harmonized bass lines, is something that probably comes a little bit from me being inspired by how Justin does that sometimes. There’s probably a connection there. We didn’t talk too much about it [laughs]. The song “peace” — when she wrote that, it was just a harmonized bass and a pulse. She wrote this incredible love song to it that’s one vocal take.”

May 2020: Taylor and Aaron spend the entire month writing all the songs on folklore.

EXILE (FT. BON IVER)

Taylor and William Bowery, the singer-songwriter, wrote that song initially together and sent it to me as a sort of a rough demo where Taylor was singing both the male and female parts. It’s supposed to be a dialogue between two lovers. I interpreted that and built the song, played the piano, and built around that template. We recorded Taylor’s vocals with her singing her parts but also the male parts. We talked a lot about who she thought would be perfect to sing, and we kept coming back to Justin [Vernon]. Obviously, he’s a dear friend of mine and collaborator. I said, “Well, if he’s inspired by the song, he’ll do it, and if not, he won’t.” I sent it to him and said, “No pressure at all, literally no pressure, but how do you feel about this?” He said, “Wow.” He wrote some parts into it also, and we went back and forth a little bit, but it felt like an incredibly natural and safe collaboration between friends. It didn’t feel like getting a guest star or whatever. It was just like, well, we’re working on something, and obviously he’s crazy talented, but it just felt right. I think they both put so much raw emotion into it. It’s like a surface bubbling. It’s believable, you know? You believe that they’re having this intense dialogue. With other people I had to be secretive, but with Justin, because he was going to sing, I actually did send him a version of the song with her vocals and told him what I was up to. He was like, “Whoa! Awesome!” But he’s been involved in so many big collaborative things that he wasn’t interested in it from that point of view. It’s more because he loved the song and he thought he could do something with it that would add something.

[Taylor on exile] “Exile was a song that was written about miscommunications in relationships, and in the case of this song I imagine that the miscommunications ended the relationship - that they led to sort of the demise of this love affair. And now these two people are seeing each other out for the first time and they keep miscommunicating with each other, they can’t quite get on the same page, they never were able to. So even in their end, even after they’ve broken up they’re still not hearing each other, so we imagined that the beginning of it would be his side of the story, second verse would be her side of the story, and then the end would be sort of them talking over each other and not listening to the other, sort of like an argument. Yeah, I’m really stoked about how it turned out because it really does seem like this sort of tragedy of two people, two ships passing in the night.”

[Joe Alwyn] Alwyn doesn’t consider himself a musician or songwriter and insists that he is, in fact, an awful singer. He was merely “messing around” on the piano when Swift heard and walked over, intrigued. He had been singing the fully formed first verse to the song that became “Exile.”. “It was completely off the cuff, an accident,” he says, shrugging. “She said, ‘Can we try and sit down and get to the end together?’ And so we did. It was as basic as some people made sourdough.” I’d probably had a drink and was just stumbling around the house. We couldn’t decide on a film to watch that night, and she was like, ‘Do you want to try and finish writing that song you were singing earlier?’ And so we got a guitar and did that. I press him on this point — he wrote an entire verse to a Taylor Swift song without trying? “Who doesn’t walk around the house singing?” he asks. I explain that it’s unusual for hit songs to spring forth like that from non-musicians’ heads. He says he wasn’t trying to write to Swift’s personal sound but had been listening to a lot of the National.

[Aaron] It was Taylor’s idea to approach [Justin Vernon]. I sent him Taylor’s voice memo of her singing both parts, and he got really excited and loved the song and then he wrote the extra part in the bridge.

INVISIBLE STRING

[Taylor] When I first heard the track that [Aaron] sent me I thought, ‘I have to write something that matches it’. And pretty quickly I came upon the idea of fate. ‘Cause sometimes I just go into a rabbit hole of thinking about how things happen and I love the romantic idea that every step you’re taking, you’re taking one step closer to what you’re supposed to be, guided by this little invisible string. I wrote it right after I sent an ex a baby gift and I just remember thinking, 'This is a full signifier that life is great!'

[Aaron] That was another one where it was music that I’d been playing for a couple of months and sort of humming along to her. It felt like one of the songs that pulls you along. Just playing it on one guitar, it has this emotional locomotion in it, a meditative finger-picking pattern that I really gravitate to. It’s played on this rubber bridge that my friend put on [the guitar] and it deadens the strings so that it sounds old. The core of it sounds like a folk song. It’s also kind of a sneaky pop song, because of the beat that comes in. She knew that there was something coming because she said, “You know, I love this and I’m hearing something already.” And then she said, “This will change the story,” this beautiful and direct kind of recounting of a relationship in its origin.

MAD WOMAN

[Taylor] [“mad woman” has] these ominous strings underneath it and I was like, ‘Oh, this is female rage.' And then I was thinking the most rage provoking element of being a female is the gaslighting that happens. For centuries, we were just expected to absorb male behavior silently. And oftentimes, when we – in our enlightened and emboldened state – now respond to bad male behavior or somebody just doing something that’s absolutely out of line and we respond, that response is treated like the offense itself. There’s been situations recently with someone who’s very guilty of this in my life and it’s a person who makes me feel (or tries to make me feel) like I’m the offender by having any kind of defense to his offenses. It’s like I have absolutely no right to respond or I’m crazy. I have no right to respond or I’m angry. I have no right to respond or I’m out of line. So [Aaron] provided the musical bed for me to make that point that I’ve been trying so hard to figure out how to make…How do I say why this feels so bad?

[Aaron] That might be the most scathing song on folklore. It has a darkness that I think is cathartic, sort of witch-hunting and gaslighting and maybe bullying. Sometimes you become the person people try to pin you into a corner to be, which is not really fair. But again, don’t quote me on that [laughs], I just have my own interpretation. It’s one of the biggest releases on the album to me. It has this very sharp tone to it, but sort of in gothic folklore. It’s this record’s goth song.

EPIPHANY

[Taylor] I remember thinking, ‘Maybe I wanna write a sports story.’ Because I had just watched The Last Dance and I was thinking all in terms of sports, and winners, and underdogs. But actually, what I had been doing really frequently up until that point was I had been doing a lot of research on my grandfather who fought in World War II at Guadalcanal, which was an extremely bloody battle. And he never talked about it. Not with his sons, not with his wife. Nobody got to hear about what happened there. So my dad and his brothers did a lot of digging and found out that my granddad was exposed to some of the worst situations you could ever imagine as a human being. So I kind of tried to imagine what would happen in order to make you just never be able to speak about something. And when I was thinking about that I realized that there are people right now taking a twenty minute break in between shifts at a hospital who are having this kind of trauma happen to them right now, that they probably will never wanna speak about. And so I thought that this is an opportunity to maybe tell that story. I often feel that there have been times in my life where things have fallen apart so methodically, and I couldn’t control how things were going wrong, and nothing I did stopped it. I just felt like I’d been pushed out a plane and I was scratching on the air on the way down. I just felt like the universe was doing its thing. It was just dismantling my life and there was nothing I could do. And this is a weird situation where – ever since I started making music with [Aaron] – I felt like that was the universe forcing things to fall into place perfectly and there’s nothing I could do. It’s one of those weird things that makes you think about life a lot. This lockdown could’ve been a time where I absolutely lost my mind and instead I think this album was a real floatation device for both of us.

[Aaron] For epiphany, she did have this idea of a beautiful drone, or a very cinematic sort of widescreen song, where it’s not a lot of accents but more like a sea to bathe in. A stillness, in a sense. I first made this crazy drone which starts the song, and it’s there the whole time. It’s lots of different instruments played and then slowed down and reversed. It created this giant stack of harmony, which is so giant that it was kind of hard to manage, sonically, but it was very beautiful to get lost in. And then I played the piano to it, and it almost felt classical or something, those suspended chords. I think she just heard it, and instantly, this song came to her, which is really an important one. It’s partially the story of her grandfather, who was a soldier, and partially then a story about a nurse in modern times. I don’t know if this is how she did it, but to me, it’s like a nurse, doctor, or medical professional, where med school doesn’t fully prepare you for seeing someone pass away or just the difficult emotional things that you’ll encounter in your job. In the past, heroes were just soldiers. Now they’re also medical professionals. To me, that’s the underlying mission of the song. There are some things that you see that are hard to talk about. You can’t talk about it. You just bear witness to them. But there’s something else incredibly soothing and comforting about this song. To me, it’s this Icelandic kind of feel, almost classical. My brother did really beautiful orchestration of it.

BETTY

[Aaron] This one Taylor and William wrote, and then both Jack and I worked on it. We all kind of passed it around. This is the one where Taylor wanted a reference. She wanted it to have an early Bob Dylan, sort of a Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan feel. We pushed it a little more towards John Wesley Harding, since it has some drums. It’s this epic narrative folk song where it tells us a long story and connects back to “cardigan.” It starts to connect dots and I think it’s a beautifully written folk song.

[Taylor] I just heard Joe singing the entire fully formed chorus of ‘betty’ from another room. And I was just like, ‘Hello.’ It was a step that we would never have taken, because why would we have ever written a song together? So this was the first time we had a conversation where I came in and I was like, 'Hey, this could be really weird, and we could hate this, so because we’re in quarantine and there’s nothing else going on, could we just try to see what it’s like if we write this song together?' So he was singing the chorus of it, and I thought it sounded really good from a man’s voice, from a masculine perspective. And I really liked that it seemed to be an apology. I’ve written so many songs from a female’s perspective of wanting a male apology that we decided to make it from a teenage boy’s perspective apologizing after he loses the love of his life because he’s been foolish.

[James] has lost the love of his life basically and doesn't understand how to get it back. I think we all have these situations in our lives where we learn to really, really give a heartfelt apology for the first time. Everybody makes mistakes, everybody really messes up sometimes and this is a song that I wrote from the perspective of a 17-year-old boy. I've always loved that in music you can kinda slip into different identities and you can sing from other people's perspectives. So that's what I did on this one," the superstar explained of the song's premise, before revealing, "I named all the characters in this story after my friends' kids... and I hope you like it!

[Joe Alwyn] I’d probably had a drink and was just stumbling around the house. We couldn’t decide on a film to watch that night, and she was like, ‘Do you want to try and finish writing that song you were singing earlier?’ And so we got a guitar and did that.” Initially, Alwyn didn’t want his name credited, anticipating that what he describes as the “clickbait conversation” would distract people from actually listening to the music. So he went by William Bowery as a nod to his music-composer great-grandfather and the Manhattan street.

[Taylor] With ‘betty,’ Jack Antonoff would text me these articles and think pieces and in-depth Tumblr posts on what this love triangle meant to the person who had listened to it. And that’s exactly what I was hoping would happen with this album. I wrote these stories for a specific reason and from a specific place about specific people that I imagined, but I wanted that to all change given who was listening to it. And I wanted it to start out as mine and become other people’s. It’s been really fun to watch.

THE LAST GREAT AMERICAN DYNASTY

[Taylor] When [Aaron] sent me the track to ‘the last great american dynasty’ I had been wanting to write a song about Rebekah Harkness since 2013, probably. I’d never figured out the right way to do it because there was never a track that felt like it could hold an entire story of somebody’s life and moving between generations. When I heard that [the track] I was like, ‘Oh my God, I think this is my opening. I think this is my moment. I think I can write the Rebekah Harkness story!' It has that country music narrative device.”

[Aaron] I wrote that after we’d been working for a while. It was an attempt to write something attractive, more uptempo and kind of pushing. I also was interested in this almost In Rainbows-style latticework of electric guitars. They come in and sort of pull you along, kind of reminiscent of Big Red Machine. It was very much in this sound world that I’ve been playing around with, and she immediately clicked with that. Initially I was imagining these dreamlike distant electric guitars and electronics but with an element of folk. There’s a lot going on in that sense. I sent it before I went on a run, and when I got back from the run, that song was there [laughs].She told me the story behind it, which sort of recounts the narrative of Rebekah Harkness, whom people actually called Betty. She was married to the heir of Standard Oil fortune, married into the Harkness family, and they bought this house in Rhode Island up on a cliff. It’s kind of the story of this woman and the outrageous parties she threw. She was infamous for not fitting in, entirely, in society; that story, at the end, becomes personal. Eventually, Taylor bought that house. I think that is symptomatic of folklore, this type of narrative song. We didn’t do very much to that either.

[Taylor] “Anyone who's been there before knows that I do 'The Tour,' where I show everyone through the house. And I tell them different anecdotes about each room, because I've done that much research on this house and this woman. So in every single room, there's a different anecdote about Rebekah Harkness. If you have a mixed group of people who've been there before and people who haven't, [the people who’ve been there] are like, "Oh, she's going to do the tour. She's got to tell you the story about how the ballerinas used to practice on the lawn.” And they'll go get a drink and skip it because it's the same every time. But for me, I'm telling the story with the same electric enthusiasm, because it's just endlessly entertaining to me that this fabulous woman lived there. She just did whatever she wanted.”

Dessner and Swift were working intensively and at high speed throughout 2020, so much so that on one occasion the producer sent the singer a track and went out for a run in the countryside around Long Pond. By the time he got back, Swift had already written ‘the last great american dynasty’ and it was waiting for him in his inbox.

Late May/Early June 2020: Taylor sends Aaron the last two folklore songs, the 1 and hoax.

[Aaron] “the 1” and “hoax,” the first song and the last song, were the last songs we did. The album was sort of finished before that. We thought it was complete, but Taylor then went back into the folder of ideas that I had shared. I think in a way, she didn’t realize she was writing for this album or a future something. She wrote “the 1,” and then she wrote “hoax” a couple of hours later and sent them in the middle of the night. When I woke up in the morning, I wrote her before she woke up in LA and said, “These have to be on the record.” She woke up and said, “I agree” [laughs]. These are the bookends, you know?It’s clear that “the 1” is not written from her perspective. It’s written from another friend’s perspective. There’s an emotional wryness and rawness, while also to this kind of wink in her eyes. There’s a little bit of her sense of humor in there, in addition to this kind of sadness that exists both underneath and on the surface. I enjoy that about her writing. The song [began from] the voice memo she sent me, and then I worked on the music some and we tracked her vocals, and then my brother added orchestration. There are a few other little bits, but basically that was one of the very last things we did. [Hoax] is a big departure. I think she said to me, “Don’t try to give it any other space other than what feels natural to you.” If you leave me in a room with a piano, I might play something like this. I take a lot of comfort in this. I think I imagined her playing this and singing it. After writing all these songs, this one felt the most emotional and, in a way, the rawest. It is one of my favorites. There’s sadness, but it’s a kind of hopeful sadness. It’s a recognition that you take on the burden of your partners, your loved ones, and their ups and downs. That’s both “peace” and “hoax” to me. That’s part of how I feel about those songs because I think that’s life. There’s a reality, the gravity or an understanding of the human condition.

[Taylor on the 1] I think, ‘I’m doing good, I’m on some new shit, been saying 'Yes' instead of 'No’ has a double meaning. Opening the album with that line applies to the situation that this song is written about where you’re updating a former lover on what your life is like now and trying to be positive about it. But it was also about where I am creatively. I’m just saying ‘Yes’, I’m just putting out an album in the worst time you could put one out, I’m just making stuff with someone who I’ve always wanted to make stuff with, as long as I’ve been a fan of The National. I’m just going to say 'Yes’ to stuff and it worked out.

[Taylor on hoax] The word ‘hoax’ is another one that I love. I love that is has an ‘x’ and the way it looks and sounds. I think with this song being the last one on the album it kind of embodied all the things that this album was thematically: confessions, incorporating nature, emotional volatility and ambiguity at the same time, love that isn’t just easy. And it’s the most symbolic and poetic thing, listing all these things that this person is to you. That line, ‘You know it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart’ – anyone in my life knows what I’m singing about there but everybody has that situation in their life where you let someone in and they get to know you and they know exactly what buttons to push to hurt you the most. That thing where the scars healed over but there’s still phantom pain. I think the part that sounds like love to me is, ‘Don’t want no other shade of blue but you. No other sadness in the world would do.’ To me that sounds like what love really is. Who would you be sad with? And who would you deal with when they were sad? And like, gray skies every day for months, would you still stay?

[Aaron] We didn’t talk about [the meaning of the album] at first. It was only after writing six or seven songs, basically when I thought my writing was done, when we got on the phone and said, “OK, I think we’re making an album. I have these six other ideas that I love with Jack [Antonoff] that we’ve already done, and I think what we’ve done fits really well with them.” It’s sort of these narratives, these folkloric songs, with characters that interweave and are written from different perspectives. She had a vision, and it was connecting back in some way to the folk tradition, but obviously not entirely sonically. It’s more about the narrative aspect of it. I think it’s this sort of nostalgia and wistfulness that is in a lot of the songs. A lot of them have this kind of longing for looking back on things that have happened in your life, in your friend’s life, or another loved one’s life, and the kind of storytelling around that. That was clear to her. But then we kept going, and more and more songs happened. It was a very organic process where [meaning] wasn’t something that we really discussed. It just kind of would happen where she would dive back into the folder and find other things that were inspiring. Or she and William Bowery would write “exile,” and then that happened. There were different stages of the process.

May 21, 2020: As stated in the folklore: long pond sessions, Taylor started recording the vocals on this day. She also finishes august while in the vocal booth.

[Taylor] In my head, I’ve been calling the girl from ‘august’ either Augusta or Augustine. What happened in my head was: ‘cardigan’ is Betty’s perspective from 20 or 30 years later, looking back on this love that was this tumultuous thing. I think Betty and James ended up together. So in my head, she ends up with him but he really put her through it. ‘august’ was obviously about the girl that James had this summer with. She seems like she’s a bad girl, but really she’s not. She’s a really sensitive person who fell for him and she was trying to seem cool and like she didn’t care because that’s what girls have to do. And she was trying to let him think that she didn’t care, but she did and she thought they had something very real. And then he goes back to Betty. So the idea that there is some bad, villain girl in any type of situation who ‘takes your man’ is a total myth because that’s not usually the case at all. Everybody has feelings and wants to be seen and loved. And Augustine…that’s all she wanted.

She previously had written down the phrase ‘Meet me behind the mall’ in her phone years ago, wanting to write it into a song.

May 22-June 5, 2020: Taylor leaves LA and goes to Upstate New York to touch up some vocals (Betty), and shooting the photoshoot at Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds' house. She also records Carolina at Long Pond. The song was recorded in one take using only instruments available before 1953.

[EW Interview] “I had this idea for the [Folklore album cover] that it would be this girl sleepwalking through the forest in a nightgown in 1830 [laughs]. Very specific. A pioneer woman sleepwalking at night. I made a mood board and sent it to Beth [Garrabrant], who I had never worked with before, who shoots only on film. We were just carrying bags across a field and putting the bags of film down, and then taking pictures. It was a blast. I'd done my hair and makeup and brought some nightgowns. These experiences I was used to having with 100 people on set, commanding alongside other people in a very committee fashion — all of a sudden it was me and a photographer, or me and my DP. It was a new challenge, because I love collaboration. But there's something really fun about knowing what you can do if it's just you doing it.”

[About Carolina] About a year & half ago I wrote a song about the story of a girl who always lived on the outside, looking in. Figuratively & literally. The juxtaposition of her loneliness & independence. Her curiosity & fear all tangled up. Her persisting gentleness & the world’s betrayal of it. I wrote this one alone in the middle of the night and then Aaron Dessner and I meticulously worked on a sound that we felt would be authentic to the moment when this story takes place. I made a wish that one day you would hear it. here The Crawdads Sing is a book I got absolutely lost in when I read it years ago. As soon as I heard there was a film in the works starring the incredible Daisy Edgar-Jones and produced by the brilliant Reese Witherspoon, I knew I wanted to be a part of it from the musical side. I wrote the song “Carolina” alone and asked my friend Aaron Dessner to produce it. I wanted to create something haunting and ethereal to match this mesmerizing story.

June 5, 2020: The Inner Circle posts the Oxford definition of the word folklore: “The traditional beliefs, customs, and stories of a community, passed through the generations by word of mouth.” adding “Taylor, your secret is safe with us.” later that day.

June 16, 2020: The Inner Circle posts the Oxford definition of the word cardigan: “A knitted sweater fastening down the front, typically with long sleeves. (Taylor, your secret remains safe with us. Here at the IC we are anxiously awaiting your big reveal)”

June-July 2020: During June and possibly early July, Aaron and Jon Low mix and master the album. It's a complicated process.

[Aaron] If there was trouble it started to be because of track counts. I probably only used 20 percent of what was actually recorded, ’cause we would try a lot of things, y’know. So, eventually the sessions got kinda crazy and you’d have to deactivate a lot of things and print things. But we got used to that. [...] I think the main thing was I wanted her vocals to have a more full range than maybe you typically hear, because I think a lot of the more pop oriented records are mixed a certain way and they take some of the warmth out of the vocal, so that it’s very bright and it kinda cuts really well on the radio. But she has this wonderful lower warmth frequency in her voice which is particularly important on a song like ‘seven’. If you carved out that mud, y’know, it wouldn’t hit you the same way. Or, like, ‘cardigan’, I think it needs that warmth, the kind of fuller feeling to it. It makes it darker, but to me that’s where a lot of emotion is.

[Aaron on the mixing process] In some instances, the final mix ended up being the never bettered rough mix, while other songs took far more work. “‘cardigan’ is basically the rough, as is ‘seven’. So, like the early, early mixes, when we didn’t even know we were mixing, we never were able to make it better. Like if you make it sound ‘good’, it might not be as good ’cause it loses some of its weird magic, y’know. But songs like ‘the last great american dynasty’ or ‘mad woman’, those songs were a little harder to create the dynamics the way you want them, and the pay off without going too far, and with also just keeping in the kind of aesthetic that we were in. Those were harder, I would say.

[Mixer Jon Low] In the beginning it did not feel real,” recalls Low. “There was this brand new collaboration, and it was amazing how quickly Aaron made these instrumental sketches and Taylor wrote lyrics and melodies to them, which she initially sent to us as iPhone voice memos. During our nightly family dinners in lockdown, Aaron would regularly pull up his phone and say, ‘Listen to this!’ and there would be another voice memo from Taylor with this beautiful song that she had written over a sketch of Aaron’s in a matter of hours. The rate at which it was happening was mind blowing. There was constant elevation, inspiration and just wanting to continue the momentum. “We put her voice memos straight into Pro Tools. They had tons of character, because of the weird phone compression and cutting midrange quality you just would not get when you put someone in front of a pristine recording chain. Plus there was all this bleed. It’s interesting how that dictates the attitude of the vocal and of the song. Even though none of the original voice memos ended up on the albums, they often gave us unexpected hints. These voice memos were such on a whim things, they were really telling. Taylor had certain phrasings and inflections that we often returned to later on. They became our reference points. “Taylor’s voice memos often came with suggestions for how to edit the sketches: maybe throw in a bridge somewhere, shorten a section, change the chords or arrangement somewhere, and so on. Aaron would have similar ideas, and he then developed the arrangements, often with his brother Bryce, adding or replacing instruments. This happened fast, and became very interactive between us and Taylor, even though we were working remotely. When we added instruments, we were reacting to the way my rough mixes felt at the very beginning. Of course, it was also dictated by how Taylor wrote and sang to the tracks.”

[Jon Low on the mixing process] Throughout the entire process we were trying to maintain the original feel. Sometimes this was hard, because that initial rawness would get lost in large arrangements and additional layering. With revisions of folklore in particular we sometimes were losing the emotional weight from earlier more casual mixes. Because I was always mixing, there was also always the danger of over mixing. “We were trying to get the best of each mix version, and sometimes that meant stepping backwards, and grabbing a piano chain from an earlier mix, or going three versions back to before we added orchestration. There were definitely moments of thinking, ‘Is this going to compete sonically? Is this loud enough?’ We knew we loved the way the songs sounded as we were building them, so we stuck with what we knew. There were times where I tried to keep pushing a mix forward but it didn’t improve the song — ‘cardigan’ is an example of a song where we ended up choosing a very early mix.

July 2020: While folklore is being finished, Taylor continues to write songs. The first two songs, that at first seem like Big Red Machine songs, are dorothea and closure.

[Aaron] A lot more of [evermore] was made from scratch. After Folklore came out, I think Taylor had written two songs early on that we both thought were for Big Red Machine, “Closure” and “Dorothea.” But the more I listened to them, not that they couldn’t be Big Red Machine songs, but they felt like interesting, exciting Taylor songs. “Closure” is very experimental and in this weird time signature, but still lyrically felt like some evolution of Folklore, and “Dorothea” definitely felt like it was reflecting on some character.

[Aaron on closure] Vernon provided the grainy beat that kicks off ‘closure’, one of two tracks on evermore that started life as a sketch for the second Big Red Machine album. “It was this little loop that Justin had given me in this folder of ‘Starters’, he calls them. I had heard that and been playing the piano to it. But I was hearing it in 5/4, although it’s not in 5/4. ‘Closure’ really opened everything up further. There were no real limits to where we were gonna try to write songs.”

In the Billboard interview above, Aaron says he thinks that Taylor wrote them after folklore was released, while in the Rolling Stone one he says they were written while finishing up the folklore mixes.

“I think I’d written around 30 of those songs in total,” Dessner recalls. “So when I started sharing them with Taylor over the months that we were working on Folklore, she got really into it, and she wrote two songs to some of that music.” One was “Closure,” an experimental electronic track in 5/4 time signature that was built over a staccato drum kit. The other song was “Dorothea,” a rollicking, Americana piano tune. The more Dessner listened to them, the more he realized that they were continuations of Folklore‘s characters and stories. But the real turning point came soon after Folklore‘s surprise release in late July, when Dessner wrote a musical sketch and named it “Westerly,” after the town in Rhode Island where Swift owns the house previously owned by Rebekah Harkness.

Dorothea is the only evermore song to have been recorded at Taylor's home studio in LA, she left LA 3 days after the release of folklore so Occam's razor, I'm guessing that the RS interview is the correct one and dorothea and closure were written in late June/early July, while the Folklorians were finishing up the album.

July 24, 2020: folklore is released, after being announced the day before.

August 6-18, 2020: To celebrate how well folklore was received, Aaron composes an instrumental track called Westerly, named after the town in Rhode Island where Taylor owns Holiday House. Taylor writes willow on it, then sends a voice memo to Aaron.

[Voice Memo] “Here's the Westerly one, written in Westerly!”

[Aaron] And I, sort of in celebration of Folklore, had written a piece of music that I titled “Westerly,” that’s where she has the house that she wrote “Last Great American Dynasty” about. I’ll do that sometimes, just make things for friends or write music just to write it, but I didn’t at all think it would become a song. And she, like an hour later, sent back “Willow” written to that song, and that sort of set [things in motion] and we just started filling this Dropbox again. It was kind of like, “What’s happening?”

There are so many stories I could share. When I sent Taylor the music for our song 'willow' — I think she wrote the entire song from start to finish in less than 10 minutes and sent it back to me. It was like an earthquake. Then Taylor said, 'I guess we are making another album.'

I liked opening the album with ['willow'] because I loved the feeling that I got, immediately upon hearing the instrumental that Aaron created for it. It felt strangely witchy, like somebody making a love potion, dreaming up the person that they want and desire, and trying to figure out how to get that person in their life. And all the misdirection, and bait and switch, and complexity that goes into seeing someone, feeling a connection, wanting them, and trying to make them a part of your life. It’s tactical at times, it’s confusing at times, it’s up to fate, it’s magical. It felt a bit magical and mysterious, which is what I want people to feel going into an album that was a collection of these stories that were going to take them in all kinds of directions. I just wanted to start them off with a setting of the vibe.

August/September 2020: Taylor writes no body, no crime, possibly while in London.

[Taylor] Working with the HAIM sisters on 'no body, no crime' was pretty hilarious because it came about after I wrote a pretty dark murder mystery song and had named the character Este, because she’s the friend I have who would be stoked to be in a song like that. I had finished the song and was nailing down some lyric details and texted her, 'You’re not going to understand this text for a few days but... which chain restaurant do you like best?' and I named a few. She chose Olive Garden and a few days later I sent her the song and asked if they would sing on it. It was an immediate 'YES.'

[Aaron] Taylor wrote that one alone and sent me a voice memo of her playing guitar — she wrote it on this rubber-bridge guitar that I got for her. It’s the same kind I play on “Invisible String.” So she wrote “No Body, No Crime” and sent me a voice memo of it, and then I started building on that. It’s funny, because the music I’ve listened to the most in my life are things that are more like that — roots music, folk music, country music, old-school rock & roll, the Grateful Dead. It’s not really the sound of the National or other things I’ve done, but it feels like a warm blanket. Taylor had specific ideas from the beginning about references and how she wanted it to feel, and that she wanted the Haim sisters to sing on it. We had them record the song with Ariel Reichshaid, they sent that from L.A., and then we put it together when Taylor was here [at Long Pond]. They’re an incredible band, and it was another situation where we were like, “Well, this happened.” It felt like this weird little rock & roll history anecdote.

[Aaron] [We realized evermore was going to end up being another album] after we’d written several songs, seven or eight or nine. Each one would happen, and we would both be in this sort of disbelief of this weird alchemy that we had unleashed. The ideas were coming fast and furiously and were just as compelling as anything on Folklore, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. At some point, Taylor wrote evermore with William Bowery, and then we sent it to Justin, who wrote the bridge, and all of a sudden, that’s when it started to become clear that there was a sister record.

September 16- 23, 2020: Taylor and Jack go to Upstate New York to record the Long Pond Studio Session. She writes 'tis the damn season there on the 17th. Afterwards Taylor stays a few more days to record the bulk of the evermore vocals: willow, champagne problems, gold rush, 'tis the damn season, tolerate it, no body no crime, coney island, ivy, long story short, marjorie, closure, evermore, and it’s time to go.

After the Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions, [Taylor] stayed for quite a while and we recorded a lot. She actually wrote 'tis the damn season when she arrived for the first day of rehearsal. We played all night and drank a lot of wine after the fireside chat — and we were all pretty drunk, to be honest — and then I thought she went to bed. But the next morning, at 9:00 a.m. or something, she showed up and was like, “I have to sing you this song,” and she had written it in the middle of the night. That was definitely another moment [where] my brain exploded, because she sang it to me in my kitchen, and it was just surreal. That music is actually older — it’s something I wrote many years ago, and hid away because I loved it so much. It meant something to me, and it felt like the perfect song finally found it. There was a feeling in it, and she identified that feeling: That feeling of... “The ache in you, put there by the ache in me.” I think everyone can relate to that. It’s one of my favorites.

[Aaron] She stayed after we were done filming and then we recorded a lot. It was crazy because we were getting ready to make that film, but at the same time, these songs were accumulating. And so we thought, “Hmm, I guess we should just stay and work.”

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS

[Taylor] Joe and I really love sad songs. He started that one and came up with the melodic structure of it. I say it was a surprise that we started writing together, but in a way it wasn’t cause we had always bonded over music and had the same musical tastes. He’s always the person who’s showing me songs by artists and then they become my favorite songs. ‘champagne problems’ was one of my favorite bridges to write. I really love a bridge where you tell the full story in the bridge. You really shift gears in that bridge. I’m so excited to one day be in front of a crowd, when they all sing, ‘She would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fucked in the head’. Cause I know it’s so sad, but it’s those songs like ‘All Too Well’. Performing that song is one of the most joyful experiences I ever go through when I perform live, so when there’s a song like ‘champagne problems’ where you know it’s so sad… I love a sad song, you know?

GOLD RUSH

During the willow live stream premiere, Taylor revealed that “gold rush” is Jack's favourite song and that it takes place inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it.

[Jack] gold rush was a pretty different sound than what was on folklore. Even the movement in the chorus and some of the chord changes, they're very outside of the realm for what we've done together. We have different processes. Sometimes we sit in a room, sometimes she'll send me a song, sometimes I'll send her a track. That was one where I had the track going. And she did the classic thing where you send it to her, and a very short time later, she sent back a voice note with all of these brilliant ideas of what the song is.

'TIS THE DAMN SEASON

[Aaron] '‘tis the damn season' is a really special song to me for a number of reasons. When I wrote the music to it, which was a long time ago, I remember thinking that this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever made, even though it’s an incredibly simple musical sketch. But it has this arc to it, and there’s this simplicity in the minimalism of it, and the kind of drum programming in there, and I always loved the tone of that guitar. When Taylor played the track and sang it to me in my kitchen, that was a highlight of this whole time. That track felt like something I have always loved and could have just stayed music, but instead, someone of her incredible storytelling ability and musical ability took it and made something much greater. And it’s something that we can all relate to. [Note: The instrumental Aaron is talking about is called Ingrid and was written in 2013 when his daughter Ingrid Stella was born. It was released in 2018 on the album Songs Without Words.]

TOLERATE IT

[Taylor] When you watch a film or you read a book and there’s a character that you identify with, most of the time you identify with them because they’re targeting something in you that feels that you’ve been there. That’s why we relate to characters. When I was reading Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier I was thinking, ‘Her husband just tolerates her. She’s doing all these things, trying so hard to impress him and he’s just tolerating her the whole time.’ There was a part of me that could relate to that because at some point in my life I felt that way. So I ended up writing this song ‘tolerate it’ that’s all about trying to love someone who’s ambivalent.

[Aaron] When I wrote the piano track to 'tolerate it,' right before I sent it to her, I thought, 'This song is intense.' It’s in 10/8, which is an odd time signature. And I did think for a second, 'Maybe I shouldn’t send it to her, she won’t be into it.' But I sent it to her, and it conjured a scene in her mind, and she wrote this crushingly beautiful song to it and sent it back. I think I cried when I first heard it. It just felt like the most natural thing, you know? There weren’t limitations to the process. And in these places where we were pushing into more experimental sounds or odd time signatures, that just felt like part of the work.

CONEY ISLAND

[Taylor on coney island] “The story behind writing Coney Island - Aaron Dessner had sent me this track that he had created with his brother Bryce and I wrote the lyrics and the melody with William Bowery. I think I might have been coming from a place of somebody who’s been in a relationship for decades and wakes up one day and realizes that they have taken their partner completely for granted. So whether you wanna look at it from the perspective of somebody who’s in a new relationship or very long-standing relationship, I think it just really speaks to if people are trying to communicate but they’re two ships passing in the night, they’re trying to love each other but their signals are somehow missing each other - I just found that really interesting... and yeah, we’re really proud of this one. There were elements of it that immediately reminded me of Matt Berninger‘s vocal stylings and his writing, and I kind of targeted some of the lyrics of the second verse to sound sort of like what he might do - cause I hoped that he might sing on it. Because, you know, we already had two members of The National on the song, with Aaron and Bryce. So we got our wish and Matt sang on this song. I think he did an amazing job, I’m such a huge fan of the band and I’m really honored this was able to come together with The National.”

[Aaron on coney island] One key track on evermore, ‘coney island’, features all of the members of the National and sees Swift duetting with their singer Matt Berninger. “My brother [Bryce] actually originated that song,” says Aaron Dessner. “I sent him a reference at one point — I can’t remember what it was — and then he was sort of inspired to write that chord progression. Then we worked together to sort of develop it and I wrote a bunch of parts and we structured it. Taylor and William Bowery [the songwriting pseudonym of Swift’s boyfriend, actor Joe Alwyn] wrote ‘coney island’ and she sang a beautiful version. It felt kind of done, actually. But then I think we all collectively thought — Taylor and myself and Bryce — like this was the closest to a National song. Dessner then asked the brothers who make up the National’s rhythm section, drummer Bryan and bassist Scott Devendorf, to play on ‘coney island’. Matt Berninger, as he often does with the band’s own tracks, recorded his vocal at home in Los Angeles. “It was never in the same place, it was done remotely,” says Dessner, “except Bryan was here at Long Pond when he played. It was great to collaborate as a band with Taylor.”

MARJORIE

[Aaron] “Taylor’s family gave us a bunch of recordings of her grandmother,” Dessner explains. “But they were from old, very scratchy, noisy vinyl. So, we had to denoise it all using [iZotope’s] RX and then I went in and I found some parts that I thought might work. I pitch shifted them into the key and then placed them. It took a while to find the right ones, but it’s really beautiful to be able to hear her. It’s just an incredibly special thing, I think.”

EVERMORE

[Taylor] When Joe wrote the piano, I based the vocal melody on the piano, and we sent it to Justin, who then added that bridge. And Joe had written the piano part so that the tempo speeds up, and it changes. The music completely changes to a different tempo in the bridge. And Justin really latched onto that, and just 100% embraced it and wrote this beautiful sort of... The clutter of all your anxieties in your head, and they're all speaking at once. And we got the bridge back, and then I wrote this narrative of, 'When I was shipwrecked, I thought of you.' That sort of thing, where there was this beacon of hope, and then in the end, you realize the pain wouldn't be forever.

IT'S TIME TO GO

[Taylor] it’s time to go is about listening to your gut when it tells you to leave. How you always know before you know, you know?

Aaron Dessner, Jon Low, Stine Dessner and Taylor at Long Pond in September 2020.

October 6, 2020: Taylor and Paul McCartney get to chat for Rolling Stone. Taylor softly references tolerate it, ivy and willow.

Swift: I was reading so much more than I ever did, and watching so many more films. McCartney: What stuff were you reading? Swift: I was reading, you know, books like Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier, which I highly recommend, and books that dealt with times past, a world that doesn’t exist anymore. I was also using words I always wanted to use — kind of bigger, flowerier, prettier words, like “epiphany,” in songs. I always thought, “Well, that’ll never track on pop radio,” but when I was making this record, I thought, “What tracks? Nothing makes sense anymore. If there’s chaos everywhere, why don’t I just use the damn word I want to use in the song?”

October 14, 2020: Jason Treuting records the glockenspiel on willow. (I got this date form the original willow stems)

October 28, 2020: Bryce Devendorf records the percussions on willow. (I got this date form the original willow stems)

October/November 2020: Aaron goes to see Justin Vernon in his home studio in Wisconsin, where they work on the album. Aaron writes the instrumental sketch to right where you left me before going on this trip.

[Aaron] I went to see Justin at one point — that’s the one trip I’ve made — and we worked together at his place on stuff. He plays the drums on “Cowboy Like Me” and “Closure,” and he plays guitar and banjo and sings on “Ivy,” and sings on “Marjorie” and “Evermore.” And then we processed Taylor’s vocals through his Messina chain together. He was really deeply involved in this record, even more so than the last record. He’s always been such a huge help to me, and not just by getting him to play stuff or sing stuff — I can also send him things and get his feedback. We’ve done a ton of work together, but we have different perspectives and different harmonic brains. He obviously has his own studio set up at home, but it was nice to be able to see him and work on this stuff.

November 4, 2020: Taylor shoots the evermore cover, the Red TV cover, and the EW photos. (I got this date from an insider)

November 7, 2020: Taylor films the willow music video. (I got this date from an insider)

November 20, 2020: Aaron records the bass on willow. (I got this date form the original willow stems)

November 25, 2020: Taylor is at Marcus Mumford's studio called Scarlet Pimpernel to finish evermore. They record vocals for two new songs, happiness and right where you left me, they touch up the vocals for coney island, they record Joe's piano on evermore the song, and Marcus records backing vocals on cowboy like me. She possibly stays more than one day.

Taylor has mentioned that you recorded “Happiness” just a week before the album was released. Was that something you guys wrote, recorded, and produced all at the last minute, or was it something you’d been sitting on for a while before you finally cracked the code? There were two songs like that. One is a bonus track called “Right Where You Left Me,” and the other one was “Happiness,” which she wrote literally days before we were supposed to master. That’s similar to what happened with Folklore, with “The 1” and “Hoax,” which she wrote days before. We mixed all the tracks here, and it’s a lot to mix 17 songs, it’s like a Herculean task. And it was funny, because I walked into the studio and Jon Low, our engineer here, was mixing and had been working the whole time toward this. And I came in and he’s in the middle of mixing and I was like, “There are two more songs.” And he looked at me like, “…We’re not gonna make it.” Because it does take a lot of time to work out how to finish them. But she sang those remotely. And the music for “Happiness” is something that I had been working on since last year. I had sang a little bit on it, too — I thought it was a Big Red Machine song, but then she loved the instrumental and ended up writing to it. Same with the other one, “Right Where You Left Me” — it was something I had written right before I went to visit Justin, because I thought, “Maybe we’ll make something when we’re together there.” And Taylor had heard that and wrote this amazing song to it. That is a little bit how she works — she writes a lot of songs, and then at the very end she sometimes writes one or two more, and they often are important ones.

[Taylor on cowboy like me] Take yourselves back to 2020, and I put out folklore, and I just kept writing. I thought, 'Let me make a sister album to folklore and call it evermore.' And so I started immediately. Aaron, Jack, and I were just writing remotely. And the challenge at the time was trying to figure out how to record things. Most studios were completely shut down due to Covid, understandably. I could not find a studio, essentially. So Aaron is like, 'Let me call around to see if there is anyone who is cool, and nice, and generous, and might be willing to offer up their home studio, if we do the right amount of testing, we're totally locked down, and quarantined.' And I was like, 'Okay, please, I really hope someone comes through.' And so he calls me ,'I have really really good news. Marcus Mumford said that you could record at his home studio.' So I first of all, I am so excited that he's saving us, because without this trip, we wouldn't have recorded five or six of the songs on evermore, which came from me getting in a car, driving six hours out into the country past thousands of beautiful sheep, to Marcus Mumford's beautiful house where he has a studio. So I got to do this, we get there, and the whole time I'm thinking, 'Okay, wouldn't it be so cool if he would sing on something?' Because I'm such a Mumford & Sons fan. I just think he's brilliant and has one of the most gorgeous voices in the world. So I'm like, 'Will he sing something, please?' But I didn't want to be weird about it, so I'm like, 'I wonder if fate will have him wander into the studio at the right time.' So sure enough, we're recording a song, and he wanders in at the perfect time and just kind of started humming a harmony. And I turned to him as if I hadn't been thinking of it the whole time, and I was like, 'Oh! You sound really good on that harmony! I wonder if you might sing on this song?' And he said, 'Yep, I would love to!' So essentially, because of Marcus Mumford we have a lot of the songs that probably we wouldn't have been able to put out evermore as quickly as we did. And we also have a gorgeous harmony on a song called 'cowboy like me.'

[Aaron] The music for happiness is something that I had been working on since last year. I had sang a little bit on it, too — I thought it was a Big Red Machine song, but then she loved the instrumental and ended up writing to it.

[Taylor] right where you left me is a song about a girl who stayed forever in the exact spot where her heart was broken, completely frozen in time.

Taylor at Scarlet Pimpernel Studios, and a signed sheet with cowboy like me lyrics which Taylor gave to Marcus Mumford.

December 3 & 4, 2020: Aaron works on willow for the final time, recording some synthesizers. (I got this date form the original willow stems)

[Aaron] On evermore, I would say willow was probably the hardest one to finish just because there were so many ways it could’ve gone. Eventually we settled back almost to the point where it began. So, there’s a lot of stuff that was left out of willow, just because the simplicity of the idea I think was in a way the strongest. It almost felt like a dare or something. We were writing, recording and mixing all in one kind of work stream and we went from one record to the other almost immediately. We were just sort off to the races. We didn’t really ever stop since April.

[Low] The final mix stage for evermore was “very short. There was a moment in the final week or so leading up to the release where the songs were developed far enough for me to sit down and try to make something very cohesive and final, finalising vocal volume, overall volume, and the vibe. There’s a point in every mix where the moves get really small. When a volume ride of 0.1dB makes a difference, you’re really close to being done. Earlier on, those little adjustments don’t really matter.

December 11, 2020: evermore is released.

With folklore, one of the main themes throughout that album was ‘conflict resolution’, trying to figure out how to get through something with someone, or making confessions, or trying to tell them something, trying to communicate with them. evermore deals a lot in endings of all sorts, shapes and sizes. All the kinds of ways we can end a relationship, a friendship, something toxic and the pain that goes along with that.

I have no idea what will come next. I have no idea about a lot of things these days and so I've clung to the one thing that keeps me connected to you all. That thing always has and always will be music. And may it continue, evermore.

[changbunnies]

I Hate to Admit (18+)

♡ Pairing: Police Chief!Changbin x Plus Size Fem ("ex") Mafia Member!Reader

♡ Genre: mafia au, heavy angst and fluff, enemies to lovers kinda (it's not in the traditional sense lol)

♡ Word Count: 47.4k

♡ Summary: Y/N is an ex-mafia member whose specialty was romancing targets for information. No feelings involved, she did what she had to do and then moved on promptly. That life eventually became toxic and tiring for her so she quit, and decided to live a normal life, with a normal career and normal friends. However, after her older brother Chan's closest advisor is arrested in a sting operation, she's called in for one last job– her latest target being Seo Changbin, the divorced chief of Seoul’s police force who is returning to dating for the first time in 2 years. It should be an easy job; get the info she needs and then vanish as she always did. But the job becomes anything but easy when she realizes she’s falling in love with him. 

♡ Warnings: past character abuse (not described), past parental death (not described), implied past SA (because consent should be enthusiastic), blood and injury, gun violence, adjusted ages (everyone is late 20s, early 30s), specficially y/n ~29 and changbin is ~30, changbin is divorced from a previous marriage, chan has an antagonistic role for the plot (i'm sorry!!)

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): multiple smut scenes, soft dom changbin, lots of love bombs and check-ins, possibly too much exposition for a sex scene lol i am so sorry, petnames (love, honey, baby), gendered language such as "good girl," handjob, nipple play, clit play, fingering, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected piv (reader is on birth control), overstimulation, creampie, over all very vanilla and soft, brief mentions of reader being heavy

♡ Notes: you can also read the story on my a03, where it is divided into chapters here! and if you're interested, you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams. updated 08/30/24: formatting fixes, slight changes to scenes and dialogue for improved cohesion

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Can we talk?

A mundane message, but one that can sow dread within you at a rapid pace. Those three little words on your phone screen mock you, the silent trepidation seeping into your pores, and rooting in your bones.

Some may look at this scenario and think you’re overdramatic; what’s so scary about your brother asking you to talk? Why would this seemingly innocent message fill you with such unease? 

The answer to that is that those people are simply ignorant– blissfully so. To not understand why this would shake you meant that the life they lived up to this point was one of relative ease. Something terrible always followed a message like this. Always.

And coming from your brother? That was even more cause for alarm. He only texted you like this when he had something terrible and important to tell you, something that had the ability to shake the foundations of your existence, to send you reeling head first into a reality you don’t want to face. 

You stare at your screen for what feels like an eternity, but in reality it’s as little as a minute (according to the timestamp on your phone, at least.) Chan sent a short followup message that simply said, “Come by the house.” 

The house. A place you haven’t returned to in 6 months. You swallow in apprehension as you type a response. Whatever he has to say has to be serious, and your mind races with possibilities. 

I’m on my way.

Your hands tremble as you approach your childhood home, taking slow measured steps through the entrance and subsequent halls. It’d been a long time since you last lived in the house, but until recently, you had still regularly visited it. Your brother, Chan, still lived here, along with various others he’d grown close to over the years, the people he considered his most trusted confidants.

You didn’t hate your brother by any means, nor any of the other people you’d become friends with over the span of your life, but to live the mafia lifestyle was exhausting to say the least. And not just physically like most people might jump to, but emotionally.

To be in fear for your life and the lives of your closest friends and loved ones, the stability of your home and finances, the balancing act between the life you lead in the day and the one you lead at night– all of it was so utterly exhausting. 

And you admired your brother’s perseverance, his resolve to carry on where your parents left off, but this wasn’t a life you wanted to lead anymore. Chan understood when you told him, and he didn’t fault you when you expressed how taxing this life was on your health, so you left the ‘official’ rankings of the family with his blessing.

For your sake, he minimized the contact the two of you shared in the last few months, but he was never going to entirely abandon his baby sister. He still checked in on you on important dates, made sure you were making enough money to live well, and that you had a job that made you happy with a fulfilling social life. 

All in all, he was the perfect older brother. He had a responsibility, and he carried it well, while ensuring the comfort of you, the baby sister who found it too stressful and overwhelming to continue to be a part of. But just because you no longer saw violence happen, it doesn’t mean it stopped.

Sure, not regularly seeing your brother hurt, or hearing about losses and close calls, was beneficial to your mental health, but it still happened all the time. You just entered a space of blissful ignorance, of avoidance. If you didn’t see it, if you didn’t hear it, the problem didn’t exist anymore, simple as that. 

And obviously that will never be true; terrible things will always happen regardless of who is or isn’t there to bear witness to them. But you could pretend. You could go to your monotonous office job like a regular person, chat about the mundane things like the weather and what your coworkers' children are getting up to these days.

You could have dinner on the couch while you facetime your best friend, gossiping about local drama or what new project their partner started while you have some random video playing as background noise. You could take a relaxing soak in the tub, listening to your new favorite song on repeat before you slip into your comfiest pair of pajamas and go to bed.

And you could pretend. Everything was perfectly fine, your brother was running things well, there were no problems and no losses. Your past was behind you, your family and friends were well, and you could live a normal life without any repercussions or consequences coming back to haunt you. A naive dream that someday reality would cruelly remind you couldn't happen. 

“Noona, you’re here!” Felix smiles as you make your approach to your brother's office, a bright one that would cause your heart to flutter if you weren’t so riddled with anxiety. Felix was your previous bodyguard while you were still living within the walls of your childhood home.

Eventually, when you moved locations for various jobs assigned to you, he’d take point close by, watching from a careful distance in case something happened and he needed to protect you. He was also the first to pick up on your desire to leave, clearly being able to see the ripple effect the danger that this life held had on you.

He broached the subject carefully, and gave you a soft smile when you admitted that his observations were correct. He supported you and gave you helpful advice, encouraging you to be honest with Chan and do what makes you happy. 

If you were being honest, Felix was one of the people you missed the most. You spent a lot of time with him over the years, and you could easily imagine what a future with him would be like if he had been willing to leave with you.

It broke your heart to realize he'd never leave it all behind, but you accepted it for what it was, and thanked him for his support for you up until the day you left. You still talked sometimes, and you often wondered what he does now that he's no longer your bodyguard; but he felt it best to give you distance while you transition into your new life.

“Hi Lixie,” you do your best to return his smile despite the anxiety stuck in your chest. "I've missed you," he says after giving you a brisk hug, "have you been well?"

"My job is a little boring sometimes to be honest, but I like it,” you answer. You can tell the conversation will move into awkward small talk territory, so you qucikly shift the topic to the reason you're here. “Do you know what Chan wants to talk to me about?” 

Felix’s smile shifts to a small frown as he nods his head tentatively. “I have an idea, yes,” he answers after a pause. Before you can ask him what he knows, your brother’s door swings open.

To your relief, he doesn’t look any different than he did when you last saw him. That had to mean whatever he was going to tell you couldn't be as bad as your head is making it out to be, right? “Y/N, come in!” Chan ushers you towards him, beckoning you into the room. You glance at Felix, who offers you a sympathetic smile, before you fully enter the office. 

You take a seat across from his desk, hands wringing the bottom of your shirt as your eyes dart to various points in the room, trying to distract your apprehensive mind by observing any potential changes. A new painting? More books? A change in desk chair? Anything, no matter how minute, is enough of a distraction at this point. 

“I’ll get straight to the point,” he says as he takes his seat across from you, his expression serious. “I have a job I’d like you to do.” It was typical of Chan to cut to the chase, never one to waste time with pleasantries if there was something serious to discuss, but despite expecting this, you were wholly unprepared to hear the words that actually came out of his mouth.

“Chan, you know I left this behind for a reason, I– I can't..” you start, searching his expression for answers. Why would he ask you to come back to this? You thought he understood from your discussion prior to leaving that you’d never put yourself through the hurt again. You just couldn’t bear it anymore. 

"I know it's a lot to ask but it's important, and there's no one I trust more than you to get it done. I can't ask anyone but you to do this," Chan responds, his pleading tone conveying how desperate he is right now.

You frown, knowing very well that there was only ever one type of job Chan assigned you to, and what he would be expecting from you. “I.. I can't do this again,” you manage to say, your balled up hands trembling in your lap, your tone pleading with him to understand. 

Chan sighs, a sadness overtaking his features that you haven’t seen in years. “I understand, I really do, but..” He looks away, jaw clenched and expression pained. Your mind repeats his words to you; there’s no one else I trust, no one else I can ask. 

Was his situation really so grave that he had no choice but to reach out for your help? And did you really have it in you to deny your brother of help when he was looking at you with such downtrodden eyes? 

You sigh as you resolve yourself to hear him out at least; if this was really that important to him, you couldn’t turn him down without at least hearing him out. You loved him after all, and despite any pain you might face, you wanted to help him if you could. “Who is it?” you ask finally, ignoring the way your nerves scream in protest. 

“Seo Changbin, chief of Seoul police.” Your brows furrow at his response, mouth slightly agape in disbelief. He couldn’t be serious– and yet his stern expression told you that he was.

“That’s impossible, there’s no way I can do that!” you exclaim, rising to your feet quickly. Sure, you were no stranger to seducing men for your family’s advantage, but it was usually petty criminals and rivaling bosses, not a police officer. And an incredibly powerful police officer at that!

"Minho was arrested," Chan says as he rises to his feet as well, hoping the declaration is enough to stop you from leaving. You freeze, heart sinking to your stomach.

“..What? How?” you ask as you slowly sink back in your seat, listening intently as Chan shared the events of the last few months with you. 

3 months ago, a deal gone wrong led to the arrest of your brother’s second in command and most trusted friend. Things have been tense and strained between members since then, but tensions were at their worst with Chan, who suspected there was a rat among them who fed information to a third party.

The location was well guarded and scoped out well before the meeting between your brother and another leader he was striking a deal with was to take place, which lead him to one conclusion– someone had to have leaked it. 

The plan was to join teams, effectively ending the rivalry and expanding territory in the process. The rival leader would release their hold on southern Seoul, with the promise that Chan in turn gave him a high ranking position and integrated his boys into the appropriate ranks.

Everything seemed to be going well at first, with Chan and Minho proceeding with negotiations with little conflict. However, an unanticipated raid on their meeting location caused the men to break out into chaos. Some fought, others ran while throwing shots, but Minho got caught in the crossfire while ensuring that Chan got out of the situation intact. 

In the end, no deal was made, trust broken between the two groups as they blamed one another, and Chan’s most trusted ally was behind bars with nothing to show for his efforts. Your brother didn’t want to believe that someone in your group had spilled secrets and allowed officers to raid their meeting, but he couldn’t disregard the possibility.

In their world, anything was possible, and he couldn’t have blind faith in his team despite how bad he wanted to trust them. So with that in mind, the last few months were dedicated to keeping a watchful eye on his lackeys, looking for any slip ups or deviations in routine. 

“You need to find out what the police have on him, on us, so we can build a defense for Minho,” Chan continues, the anger and grief on his face clear, “Or at the very least, discover who our rat is. Even if it's not someone on our side, I don’t plan on letting whoever sold us out walk away. They’ll regret ever betraying us, or their brothers.”

Chan’s expression is one of unbridled rage, and now you understand why. A betrayal of this magnitude is something your brother could never forgive, no matter how kind of a leader he is, no matter which affliation to other families the rat held.

And he wasn’t just betrayed, but his brother in arms was gone now too. Wherever Chan was, Minho was never far behind, and you honestly couldn't remember a time in your life where you didn’t see the two of them together.

Minho was just as much a brother to you as Chan, having spent years of your life with the both of them by your side. You can’t imagine the amount of grief your brother has been shouldering on his own up until now.

“How do I get close to him?” you finally question with a frown. You don’t doubt that Chan has a plan; he never sent you into a situation unprepared, but you’re still perplexed by the idea.

This wasn’t the usual low hanging fruit you were tasked with getting close to, and even when set to romance rivaling bosses, you knew you had Chan and Felix’s protection if things went south. But here, there was no protection. If this Seo Changbin guy figured you out, you’d all be nailed without hesitation. 

“Jeongin. I planted him on the force after Minho’s arrest– he’s your in.” Chan answers easily, though the pain in his voice at the mention of Minho doesn’t go unnoticed by you. He prepared carefully when he realized he would need your help, not allowing for any possible error in his preparations.

Chan didn’t want to throw you into a situation you weren’t capable of handling. Yes, he was desperate to find out where they might've went wrong, but patience was key; and he couldn’t throw his sister in the line of danger over just anything. You were not only a valuable asset to him, but also his only family left, and he wouldn’t lose you too over a half baked plot made in desperation. 

So with that in mind, he moved slowly and carefully, keeping a watchful eye on those around him while planting trusted members in key locations. And Yang Jeongin was one of those trusted members, a childhood friend who was fiercely loyal and dedicated to the family as he also grew up in this lifestyle.

He had proved his loyalty many times over in Chan’s eyes, so he gave Jeongin the task to infiltrate the force and learn anything he could about what happened on that fateful night months ago. He was younger than you and Felix, and you imagined it'd be easy for him to pass as a fresh recruit eager to work with his cute, boyish smile.

Han Jisung, another trusted member of the group, easily got all the necessary documents together to allow Jeongin onto the force. Jisung’s talent for forgery and information gathering was greatly appreciated, often allowing you and others into spaces they normally would not be allowed in.

Chan informs you that while Jeongin is too low rank on the force to get the details they really want, he has been able to uncover other useful information that they can use to their advantage– namely, information on police chief Seo Changbin. The chief is back on the dating field for the first time since his divorce finalized a few years back, which is where you come in. 

Jeongin often joined his “colleagues” for drinks after Friday shifts in the hopes that one of them would spill something in their inebriated state. And while Changbin didn’t spill anything work related that Jeongin didn't already know, he did share some personal details, which included the progression his love life (or lack thereof.) 

“Is he really going to go on a blind date with someone his subordinate hooks him up with?” you ask, hesitancy clear in your voice. Chan understands the hesitation however and doesn’t hold the way you’re questioning him against you; he knows how far-fetched this all sounds.

“He’s already agreed to it,” Chan answers and this is where it all clicks for you. Of course he already agreed to it– Chan wouldn’t be giving you this task otherwise. 

You sigh as you decide to commit to the job, still uneasy but unable to tell your brother “no” when he’s placing so much faith in you. All you can do now is hope that things proceed smoothly and that Seo Changbin isn’t as much of an asshole as some of the other men you’ve had the displeasure of beguiling into spilling their most closely held secrets.

“This is all the intel Jeongin has gotten on him, along with some things Jisung got through some digging. Read it over thoroughly and prepare for Friday night,” Chan says as he hands you a rather sparse manila folder.

Normally you had much more information to work with, but you suppose it makes sense that there isn’t much to dig up about him. You imagine that he’s either some self righteous do-gooder with not a single speck on his perfect record, or a corrupt officer who's incredibly good at covering up his messes.

You aren’t sure which you prefer either way, but no matter the outcome, you have to see it through. So you simply step out of Chan’s office, folder in hand as you head home to prepare. 

As you expected by how little the folder held, you didn’t actually learn all that much about who Changbin is as a person. On Jisung's report was the typical boring information– which high school he graduated from, and how long he’s been on the police force for instance. There wasn’t much you could put to use.

A medal won here, a promotion there, but nothing that would help you woo the man. On Jeongin’s end, he reported mostly on things he heard come out of Changbin’s mouth while he was drinking, or idle gossip from other colleagues.

You knew Changbin has been divorced for over 2 years now, and you knew that he wanted to be in a relationship again, but there wasn’t much else for Jeongin to tell you. 

Changbin seemed to be well guarded on all fronts, which you suppose made sense given his career. If the chief of police in a city as large and populated as Seoul was flippant with his mouth, you could only imagine what kind of trouble it would cause. It was easy to imagine that he held his private life close to his chest.

You knew from firsthand experience that knowing personal details and secrets about a person can ruin them, and someone as influential as Changbin having his private life on display would surely be a disaster. Still, you found it incredible that even while intoxicated, he didn’t reveal too much about himself.

Nothing critical or of importance, just minor or vague passing comments that anyone could infer. Anyone could guess that a divorced man would put himself back out there eventually– it was only a matter of time, and thus not a groundbreaking confession. 

So, the only things you knew about him were either insignificant drunken confessions, speculation based on rumor, or observations made by Jeongin from working under him from the past 2 and a half months; all things that don't necessarily aid you in any way.

He noted that Changbin had a routine, that he stuck to a specific diet to maintain his health and body, and that he was very prompt and careful with everything he did. Normally, you used the information gathered on a target to plan your approach. If you could appeal to their tastes, you were much more likely to get them to like you and want to pursue you, which made your job all the more easy.

But Changbin was basically a mystery to you; no prominent social media accounts to scour for likes and dislikes, opinions or preferences that you could play into, nor any substantial records to pour though to learn about him. 

You were basically going in blind, which made you all the more nervous to be in front of him this afternoon. You didn’t have a crutch to lean on, and all you could really do was hope that whatever you did tonight was enough to make Changbin want to keep seeing you.

You had also gone over your story with Chan and Jeongin a couple times to ingrain it in your memory and make sure there were no mistakes. The story was mostly truthful, as the best lies have some truth to them, but there were obviously some things that had to be changed about the relationship you have. 

Jeongin was like a little brother to you, which was true, and you had a good relationship with his mother, which was also true. What wasn’t true however, was the reason behind those facts. Your story was that your mothers were close friends, which led to you having a big part in Jeongin’s life– and again, that was partially true. The lie came from why they were close friends.

The mafia life wasn’t some new endeavor that your brother decided to pursue while you followed– he was born into it, with your father being the previous head of the family; and that was similarly true for Jeongin. His dedication to Chan, and you by proxy, was instilled in him by his father, in the same way your own father instilled the values of the family into you and Chan.

So yes, your families were close, but not for the reasons your cover story will lead Changbin to believe. Your fathers worked together, which meant your mothers became close friends; and when Jeongin turned 18 he took over where his father had left off without hesitation. 

It was a bittersweet feeling when Jeongin joined your ranks officially. He wasn't obligated to continue his father’s path like you and Chan, which gave him the chance to leave this all behind if he wanted to. You truly did view the boy like your own little brother, and you knew accepting this life meant putting himself in harm's way– but you also understood that he was old enough to make his own choices.

And it would be a lie to say his dedication and loyalty was unappreciated by you or your brother. You firmly believed that if Minho wasn't so close in age to Chan, Jeongin would be second in command instead. It had really only come down to the fact that Minho was older with more real world experience that led to him being Chan’s direct subordinate. 

You play your story over and over again in your head as you prepare for your date. A slip up could prove devastating, so you were putting extra care into making sure you would execute everything flawlessly.

The location of your date was a fairly nice restaurant (at least you assumed it was based on your google search), so you planned your outfit based on that. It was more on the formal side, but not so much that it called for you to pull your most expensive pieces out of the closet, so you chose a dress on the simpler side.

Besides, you figured showing up in something extravagant would be jarring; unlike when you're going after low level thugs, flashing wealth isn't necessary here. Changbin is expecting a version of you close in line to who you truly are now– that being a nice girl who works an office job for a living. 

Keeping in line with that train of thought, you also chose more subtle, natural looking makeup, and kept a more relaxed hair style. It’d been a while since you went on a date with a more natural style, but it was refreshing to not have to pull out all the stops.

Normally, you had to play into a persona, or be an exaggerated version of yourself, but Changbin was expecting someone average. Just a nice girl with a modest job– nothing crazy, and nothing for you to play into.

You were definitely still anxious about not having something tangible to latch on to, but hopefully being more on the truthful, down to earth side would appeal to him. After all, no matter what caricature of him you made up in your mind, he was likely the most normal person you’d ever been assigned to. 

The drive to your destination was as uneventful as it could be, spent mostly with you internally going over everything one last time, and occasionally checking how you looked at red lights. You arrived a bit early, which you hoped would reflect positively on you given that Jeongin said that Changbin was a prompt person (and it was really one of the only things you had to go on.)

You were probably standing in front of the building for less than a minute or so before you heard a voice from the left. “Excuse me, ma'am– are you Y/N?” the voice asks, and you turn quickly to look at the man for the first time. His voice is less gruff than you were expecting; it was actually quite light, warm, and uniquely inviting.

He was also much more broad than you’d anticipated, clearly the result of years of dedicated training and diligence; the few pictures you saw of him didn't do him enough justice. You can immediately understand why his subordinates, and those unlucky enough to be arrested by him would find him intimidating, but his gaze is surprisingly jovial.

The contrast isn’t by any means unpleasant, but it is foreign to you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone so outwardly rough-looking have such a cheery disposition. “You’re Changbin then?” you smile, his own brightness helping to put you more at ease, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too! You havent been waiting long have you?” he asks, and you quickly shake your head, assuring him you’ve only been here for a few minutes at most. He ushers you to follow him, making small talk as you walk inside together.

You’re guided to your seats promptly, courtesy of his reservation, and he pulls your chair out for you. You sit with a smile; when was the last time you went on a date with someone chivalrous? You honestly couldn’t remember; most men in your life have been far from gentlemanly. 

Contrary to what you would expect, conversation flowed naturally– though you would give the credit for that to Changbin. He was very.. natural. He had an air of ease and confidence, but not in the sort of arrogant way you would find distasteful. If he was at all nervous it didn’t show, he wasn’t hesitant or awkward with any of his words.

He had the kind of confidence that comes with age and life experience, sure of himself but not overly serious, as well as the ability to poke fun at himself if the moment called for it. He was also much more open than you had anticipated, freely sharing details of himself, even if the story was something someone would consider embarrassing. 

An old mess up? Something stupid he did at his 21st birthday party? A silly mistake when he was still in the officer's academy? All of it was divulged freely, giggling at himself as he shared his stories with you. It surprised you just how himself he was.

You expected someone secretive and closed off, or someone serious to a fault with no fun to be found. Neither extreme you made up in your head fit him; and maybe he was just private and stern in work settings, while his real self was mirthful and easy going. 

You shared things about yourself as well, trying to maintain the carefree vibe he has created for your dinner together. Simple things mostly, majority of which are completely true minus the tweaking of some details to not give away anything you shouldn’t.

Memories of your childhood, what working in an office is like, and embarrassing stories of Jeongin for him to keep in his back pocket until he can bring them up at an opportune time. Time passes much quicker than you thought it would, with Changbin already taking out his card to pay the bill.

“I could pay for myself,” you say with a slight pout, though you truthfully like that he intends to pay for you; truly, he's a gentleman.

“I can’t let a pretty girl pay for her meal on a first date! It just isn’t right!” Changbin exclaims, and you can’t help but smile at his reaction. Whether or not his gentlemanly behavior is an act or not remains to be seen, but the romantic lying deep within you can’t help but enjoy it.

“How about I pay next time then? To keep it fair,” you say with a smile that Changbin returns without hesitation. “So there’s a next time?” he asks, delight written across his features.

“Of course, as long as that’s okay with you,” you say and he nods eagerly, not at all hiding his excitement. He’s a more of an open book than you were expecting, but you like it; it makes you wonder how those who work with him would feel if they could see their superior right now– all smiles and laughter, no hint of the intimidating and private man they normally see at the station. 

You find the duality appealing. Of course, there’s always the chance that he’s doing the same thing you usually do; playing up his personality, or exaggerating to make you like him more– if that is the case he definitely succeeded. You don’t think you’ve ever been so genuinely entranced by someone since high school; and it’ll certainly make your task more pleasant if you don’t hate the person you’re dealing with. 

You exchange numbers as you begin to walk away from the table, and he keeps a respectful distance away from you; appropriate for a first date. He continues to chat with you about what your “next time” can entail as you approach the doors to leave the restaurant, and you like that he’s forward without being overbearing.

He says clearly what he wants and hopes for, and though you were the first to suggest a second date, you get the impression that he wouldn't have been bitter or resentful if this was where your time together ended. He's so honest, and respectful– completely unlike other men you've dealt with.

“Shall I walk you to your car?” Changbin asks as you step outside together. The sun has set during your time spent chatting and eating, but it’s not terribly dark out– the street lamps and other business offer more than enough illumination.

“No, that’s okay. I parked nearby, so it won’t take me long to get to it,” you answer. You didn’t sense any ulterior motives from Changbin, but felt it best to err on the side of caution, and not let a man you just met see the kind of car you drive. He nods understandingly, offering one last smile and telling you to be safe before he bids his goodbye to you. 

You find yourself smiling the entire drive back to your apartment, and it remains even as you undress and clean yourself up. You look at your phone when you leave the shower, and the smile grows when you realize you have a text from Changbin already, telling you he got home safe and that he had a great time with you. You flop on your bed with your phone in hand, giddy as you type your own reply. 

What you feel now is a kind of feeling you don’t recognize at first; the kind you’d feel when you have your first crush in elementary school, you think. The kind that makes you want to kick your feet as you lie under the blankets, or bury your head in the pillow and squeal.

And that’s when realization hits you; do you actually like him? Genuinely, truly like him? 

You frown as you stare up at the ceiling. It has to just be puppy love– there’s no way you genuinely like him after just meeting him once, right? On one hand, if you do like Changbin, that makes your task easier. You’d enjoy being around him, wouldn’t dread your future interactions, and would likely have a lot of fun most days. But on the other hand, wouldn’t it make things more complicated in the long run? 

Well, there’s no use worrying about it right now– at least, that’s what you tell yourself. Nothing has even seriously happened yet to confirm that the two of you will be a couple, and stressing yourself out over all the possibilities is something you recognize will only do more harm than good at the moment. It’d be better to make a plan when you’re more sure of where things are going instead of trying to plan for every outcome now. 

You sigh, tossing your phone on the nightstand as you make a conscious choice to just go to sleep. Whatever your feelings are, you’ll have plenty of time to figure things out later. For now, all you can really do is keep on the task at hand– and currently, that task is going on a 2nd date with Seo Changbin. 

“What’s got you smiling so hard?” your coworker says from your left, his sudden voice making you nearly jump out of your skin. “Seungmin!” you exclaim, hand clutching your chest as you swivel in your seat to face him. “You scared the life out of me!”

Seungmin laughs in response, clearly not at all concerned over the fact that he almost sent you to an early grave. “I’m sorry! I didn’t think you were that focused on your phone,” he says with an amused smile. Your face flushes as you realize that yes, you were incredibly focused on your phone, and yes, you were smiling very hard.

And Seungmin, being the menace of a friend that he is, couldn’t let it go unannounced. “Let me guess,” he says as rolls his chair over to your desk, crossing his legs and folding his hands together in a dramatic fashion as he leans forward, “you’re texting Mr. Blind Date?” 

“I’ve told you a million times, his name is Changbin,” you say as you push his chair away from your desk. He laughs again before rolling his way back over to you. It’s evident that he is unphased by your push, and instead finds it extremely funny.

“What’s got you so hostile? All I did was ask a simple question!” He puts his hands up in a faux surrender gesture, though the amused smirk doesn’t leave his face. You wouldn’t say you were embarrassed per se, but… Well, maybe you were.

It’d been a long time since you were genuinely infatuated by someone like this, and being caught with hearts in your eyes in a work environment wasn’t the greatest feeling. Apart from that, this was someone you were supposed to pretend to like, not actually like. But, at least if anyone was going to catch you in this state, it was your perfectly oblivious friend. 

“Yeah, well.. I really like him, I guess,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant despite the fact that Seungmin clearly saw the depth of your infatuation.

“Oh, I really like him, I guess,” he mocks, laughing when you shoot him an ‘I’ll kill you’ look. “You have your next date planned yet?” he asks next, putting his joking aside to ask sincerely. 

Seungmin had quickly become a great friend to you when you were accepted to the office, and while you definitely didn’t confess every detail of what your life was like before being hired here, you did allude to the fact that your past relationships were less than great. He could see the genuine pain in your eyes whenever someone else in the cubicle block brought up their perfect relationships and idyllic families. 

So, despite the teasing, he did genuinely care. He wanted you to be happy, and he was silently hoping that this Changbin person you met on your blind date would be the one to bring you that happiness. Of course, he didn’t know the ulterior motives behind said blind date, or about any of the previous mafia ties that led you here– though, technically those ties are no longer ‘previous.’ 

“We’re gonna meet up again tomorrow. There’s an art exhibit he wants to go to,” you answer and Seungmin lets out a little ‘oooo~’ which you roll your eyes at.

“So he’s an arts guy then?” he asks and you shake your head. “Not really, but his best friend's works are gonna be on display, and he wants to support him. He asked me if I wanted to be his plus one.” 

“Oh, ‘plus one~’, sounds fancy,” Seungmin teases, which you scoff at. “It’s nothing extravagant, Min, don’t be dramatic.” You push his shoulder, which he then clutches with a small gasp as if you actually hurt him. The rest of your coworkers shuffle into the room not long after, signaling that break time is officially over and it’s time to get back to work. 

The rest of the work day is nothing short of a hectic, stress induced mess following your break time antics. You and Seungmin are practically buried in work due to multiple people calling off after catching a cold.

All the catch up work to make deadlines is running you ragged, but the thought of having a fun day out after this is all over is keeping you going. That, and Changbin sending you cute texts of encouragement every time you complain to him about the workload. 

You breathe a sigh of relief when the backlog is finally finished, slumping in your chair and letting yourself roll away from the desk. It’s way past the time you’d usually leave for the day, but at least you’re being well compensated for the work; it was tiring, but the fat check will make it all worth it in the end. Maybe you’ll finally be able to splurge on some new clothes like you’ve been wanting to. 

Seungmin finishes his own work just moments later and throws his hands in the air with an exclamation, “Hell is over!” You laugh as you pull yourself back up to prepare yourself to go home. “I’m so ready to crash after this. I think I’m gonna collapse as soon as I step in the house," he says as he shuts down his work computer.

“Don’t crash before you have dinner at least,” you say and Seungmin groans, as if doing anything other than immediately going to sleep will ruin him. “I can eat when I wake up! Getting my beauty sleep is more important.”

“Yeah, those dark circles are getting a bit egregious,” you joke and Seungmin shoots a glare at you before he stands. The pair of you continue to bicker and laugh before you say your goodbyes, and Seungmin makes sure you promise to give him all the details of your second date when you return on Monday. 

It’s painfully obvious that you’re sick when you wake up the next morning; sore throat, cough, fatigue, and all the works. It’s also painfully obvious where you got your cold from, given all the office absentees.

The sickness that ran rampant through your coworkers was bound to catch up to you eventually, you suppose. But did it have to be today of all days? 

Canceling on Changbin made you feel awful; much more than you expected it to. You always felt bad when you had to cancel plans of course, it was never a happy thing to do, but the sadness you felt now was unmatched by any time before it.

You tell yourself it’s because you have a lot riding on this date, because your brother needs you to see this through and you can’t let anything deter Changbin from wanting to be with you, but you know deep down that’s not the truth. 

The truth is that you were actually looking forward to seeing him. That you liked him. That you wanted to hold his hand as you walked through the gallery together, to share your thoughts over a nice dinner, to maybe end the night with a kiss or two. And God, did the fact that you actually like him make you feel stupid.

What kind of idiot actually starts to like the person they are supposed to dupe in the end? Did leaving for half a year revert you back to an amateur? Did you forget all of your previous bad experiences with other men you had to do this with? 

When you walked away, you told yourself you wouldn’t be in a relationship again for a long time, sincere or otherwise. Being with awful men jaded you, and the rare times you did feel a genuine connection, the nature of your life and family ruined it.

There was a point in your life that you started to believe you didn’t deserve anything good. Everyone you met either treated you like shit, or resented the reality of what being with you entailed. Nothing you wanted was ever worth the effort or the risk for them.

With every subsequent forced proximity with a man you loathed, with every spark of love that faded because of who you are and what your family does, you withered. People will compare being adolescent to a bud, likening the growth and transition into adult life to that of a flower's first bloom. But you always felt like your bloom never came; Mother Nature skipped over you, deeming you unworthy, leaving you to rot before you ever had a chance for something more.

While other people were vibrant and colorful, you were dull and withered. The garden that was your life was barren and devoid of nutrients, and always would be. At least, that’s how you felt until fairly recently. It took time for you to realize you were deserving of good things, and that a change of environment would help you turn your life into the kind that you would be happy to live. 

Even when you started to feel good about life, and about yourself again, you figured it would still be a while before you ever began to crave the presence of a significant other again. You’d hurt and been hurt too many times, seen the worst in countless people, saw the depths of cruelty and hatred that someone could have. And good people existed, of course they did, but your world view was tainted by the ceaseless callousness you were confronted with.

How could you believe that kind people were out there when you often saw the opposite? The depravity, selfishness, and heartless disregard for anyone but themselves? The fact that you had good people in your life began to feel like a fluke, your handful of close family members and friends like small faint glimmers of light in a sea of black. 

But even when you were blind to it, even when your vision was clouded by the suffering you experienced, good people existed. Selfless people, who would give the last of what they had to help someone else. Kind people, who helped someone in need without asking for anything in return. Happy people, whose only goal was to make the world a bit brighter than it was yesterday, with one small kindness at a time. 

Changbin was one of those people. And maybe it was naive to believe that so soon, to have faith that he was different from the other men you’ve known, but you couldn’t help it. He just radiated sincerity, exuded warmth, emanated positivity.

Talking with him brought you back to the feeling of having a grade school crush; it was like he woke up a part of you that had been sleeping for years. A part of you that wanted a love like in romance movies, where everything is filled with cheesy quotes of adoration and over dramatic declarations of love. Flourishes of passion, moments where all you can think about is seeing him again, where the smallest of gestures makes your heart burst with excitement. 

You’ve only known him a short time, but you felt so utterly infatuated. Every time you spoke to each other, it felt like being on a cloud– soft and inviting, warm and bright. He was like a blanket fresh out of the dryer, offering you unmatched comfort and peace. The weeks leading up to this 2nd date where you spent hours texting, talking on the phone or facetiming was almost euphoric. 

And you suppose that’s another reason missing out on today is that much more devastating to you. Changbin became swamped with work shortly following your first date, promising that the first free weekend he’d got he’d take you on that date he promised.

Then, when things were finally calming down for him, you ended up being buried under the workload of your sick coworkers. And finally, finally, your patience would've been rewarded with today’s date. 

Would it be overdramatic to kick and scream? Maybe, but it’s all you wanted to do. And maybe tell God, or whatever higher power exists, to please let Changbin not hate you for canceling today.

Of course, he was very understanding, even offering to drive over to you and pick up anything you might need. You turned him down, telling him to go to the exhibit and enjoy it, and that you’d just get some more sleep after you took some medicine. 

It was late in the afternoon when you woke up from your cough medicine induced coma, the sun just barely still on the horizon. You knew you really should get some food in you, but the prospect of walking around your kitchen and cooking something sounded extremely daunting.

You wondered if it was too late to take Changbin up on his offer? Having someone bring you some more medicine and something to eat would be a godsend. And besides that, you just want to see him. 

You unlock your phone and immediately smile upon seeing your texts; Changbin knew you were getting your rest of course, but he still sent updates, including pictures of the art pieces and how he tried his best to interpret their meaning despite not really understanding what he was looking at most times.

His friends works were the most praised by him of course, and his enthused “This one is by Hyunjin!! My best friend is so talented!!”  was endearing to read. 

You decide to send a simple text, saying you just woke up and were hoping his offer to come by still stands if it’s not any trouble. To your surprise, a facetime request comes through moments later, and you scramble to settle into a presentable position (not that it really matters given how sick you are.)

“Y/N~” he coos when you finally answer, a small pout forming on his features when he sees your tired eyes and red nose. Changbin is sitting in his car, phone propped up on the dash as he sits in what you assumed to be the driveway of his home.

His hair is damp and his clothes loose and comfortable, giving away that he just recently took a shower and was going to start settling in for the night before you texted him. Did he rush to his car after he got your text? You suspect he did.

And you’re not sure if it’s the damp look, or the way the light of the setting sun illuminates his skin that makes your heart feel like it’s going to burst, but he’s handsome. So devastatingly handsome that you almost want to hide your sick face away. 

Changbin asks all sorts of questions during your call, like what medicines you took, what you need restocked, what you want to eat and from where. Every time you offer to pay him back, he shuts you down, always reminding you that he wants to do this for you.

He hangs up when he starts to drive so he won't be distracted, and you decide to relocate to your living room. You bring your favorite blanket and an extra pillow with you, settling in on the sofa while turning the tv to some random show you don’t intend on paying much attention to– you just want the noise.

It’s around an hour later when Changbin calls again to let you know he’s at your apartment. You were surprised he took so long, and when you open the door for him it’s easy to see why. His hands are full of bags all from the same store, apart from your food order.

“Changbin, you– what is all this?” you ask, nearly stunned. He shuffles his way inside, placing everything carefully down your kitchen counters as your front door closes behind him. 

“Well, I know you only needed a couple things but..” he says as he starts to separate the bags, placing your food off to the side as he digs through them, showing you the contents one by one. “This is the medicine you asked for. And I got you this anti-drowsy version for the daytime. Oh, and this is vitamin c, your immune system will need it! This is tea for your throat, and this is-” 

You nod along to what he’s saying, but your brain has long since stopped processing the information. You're stuck on the fact that he even bought all of this for you, that he seemed to care so much that he went above and beyond what you asked for.

When he looks up and sees your bewildered expression, he pauses, brows furrowing in concern. “What’s wrong? Is it getting worse? Do you need to lay back down?” 

“Oh, no, I..” you start to answer but well.. What do you even say? It’s hard to explain why such a simple kindness would render you so incapacitated.

“If you’re worried about how much I spent, it’s fine! Nothing I can’t make up with another day at the office,” he says with a smile. “Oh, but you shouldn’t still be standing! Here, let’s sit you down.” Changbin guides you to your sofa, hurrying back to your kitchen to grab the food and bring it to you. He places it carefully in your hands before he sits down next to you.

You stare at the food in your hands, blinking as you try to process. He really did all this for you because he cares? He doesn’t expect anything in return? He isn’t going to complain about the costs or the effort, or make you feel like a burden?

No, you know that he won’t, and that’s the part that sends waves of an indescribable emotion through you. “Is it wrong? Did you lose your appetite?” he asks when he notices you just looking at it, leaning closer to inspect the meal in your hands, then back up to your face. 

“Oh, sorry, I guess I did for a second. I’m good to eat now though,” you fib, but smile afterwards to ease any worries he has.

“No need to say sorry for that, just eat before it happens again, okay?” Changbin watches for a few moments, making sure that the food isn’t going to make you more ill. As much as he wants you to eat to get better, he knows how hard it can be to force yourself, and how it can make any nausea you feel worse. 

When he is assured that your appetite is in fact back and that you’re eating well, he turns back to his own meal. You share a comfortable silence for a time as you focus on getting food in your system, though Changbin finishes much faster than you due to the cold slowing your pace. He doesn’t spend the time waiting for you to finish idly though– instead, he prepares more medicine for you, gets you more water, and cleans up any messes left in his wake. 

“So, what show is this?” he asks when he’s finished cleaning up the trash from your meals. You told him he didn’t have to and that you’d clean it up later of course, but he insisted upon it.

“I don’t know actually. I just put anything on,” you answer. Changbin frowns a little, cutely you might add, before he speaks. “That’s no good, you should watch your favorite things when you don’t feel good. Like.. a comfort movie! What's your favorite? We’ll watch that!”

He quickly reaches for the remote before looking at you expectantly. “Oh, uhm..” You hesitate, hoping that you appear to just be thinking about it instead of taken aback like you truly were.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had a boyfriend (genuine or otherwise) that valued any of your opinions, that wanted to give the things you liked a try, or indulge in any interests you had. Something as small as letting you choose what to watch on tv meant more to you than he could possibly realize. 

It doesn’t take much actual thought to make your suggestion and tell him where he can find it, and he beams as he follows your instructions to get the movie playing. The only problem now, you soon realize, is that you have no space to lay back down.

Given that you live alone and don’t often have company, you chose to buy a smaller sofa and save the extra money. That decision seemed smart at the time, but now you wondered if you should’ve just gone for the bigger furniture, additional cost be damned. 

Changbin watches you fumble with your pillow for a few moments, trying to find different ways to prop it up and make it comfortable to lay against, before he gets the courage to speak up. “Do you want to lay on me?”

“Huh?” you say, not because you didn’t hear him, but because you’re surprised he asked. “We can cuddle..? If you want?” he offers, the slightest bit of pink dusting his cheeks. Oh, you’re fucked. There’s no reason the prospect of cuddling should make butterflies erupt in your stomach like this. 

You nod, tentatively passing your pillow over to him. Changbin places it carefully against the arm rest before he props himself against it, motioning for you to lay against him once he’s settled. Your head rests on his chest, and Changbin wraps his arm around you carefully, ensuring that his touch is comforting and not inappropriate. You unwittingly let out a sigh as your body relaxes, and Changbin has to suppress a smile in response. 

Before you know it, your eyes are closing– Changbin is just so warm and comfortable, you can’t fight it. He smells good and his gentle touch is soothing, the slow circles he draws on your skin with his thumb lulling you to sleep. The sound of your comfort movie playing becomes almost silent in your ears, being replaced instead by the sound of Changbin’s breathing and the steady beating of his heart. 

The movement of Changbin’s leg eventually stirs you awake, and you sit up with a yawn, rubbing your tired eyes. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologizes before he stretches out his legs. You guess they must’ve fallen asleep after being in the same position for a while.

“How long was I asleep?” you ask as you turn your attention to the tv. The movie you picked was no longer playing, and it seemed to be half way through a different one. 

“I’m not sure, a few hours maybe?” he replies; after you settled on him, he couldn't reach his phone. His only judge of time has been the movies playing.

“What? Really?!” You scramble for your phone to check the time and see that Changbin was right– you have been asleep on him for at least 2 and a half hours. “You could’ve woken me up,” you frown, but Changbin shakes his head vigorously, as if that was never an option.

“No, you’re sick! You needed the rest.” He had a point of course, but you still felt bad that he was probably bored out of his mind uncomfortable letting you sleep on him like that for so long.

Changbin notes your pout, and thinks about how cute you are to him, even when you’re sick, and puffy, and tired. “Why don’t you go to bed for the night? Your body needs it,” he suggests after you let out yet another yawn. 

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, and Changbin quickly rises to his feet to help you stand (though you would argue you are stable enough to walk on your own.) He carries your pillow for you, and would’ve carried your blanket as well if not for the fact that you currently had it wrapped around your body like a cocoon. 

Your room is a bit messy, but thankfully there’s nothing lying around that you would be embarrassed for him to see. Changbin sets your pillow down before ensuring that you get in the bed. He turns to walk away once you're settled, promising he’ll lock the door on his way out and text you tomorrow.

But in a move that surprises even yourself, you call out to him before he makes it back to your bedroom door. He faces you quickly, head tilted as asks what’s wrong. “Do you want to stay?” your voice comes out smaller than intended, but Changbin hears you clearly.

And it’s his turn for his heart to feel like it’s going to burst, hoping that the faint blush rising to his cheeks is masked by the darkness in you room. “I mean, it’s late so..” you continue when he doesn’t answer right away, hoping you haven’t overstepped a boundary by asking. 

“Of course, I’d like that,” he says to your relief. He’s nervous as he makes the short trek back to your bed, both of your hearts pounding in your chests as he moves the blanket to lie down next to you. It feels like you’re a teenager again rather than an adult pushing thirty when he settles in and looks at you, face just a few mere inches away from yours. It's almost embarrassing how easily he gives you butterflies.

“I want to kiss you so bad,” he admits suddenly, his voice almost a whisper as his eyes search for yours in the darkness. “What if you get sick?” you ask, laughing when he exclaims in response. “I wouldn’t be here right now if I cared about getting sick!” 

“Fair point,” you smile as you inch your way a bit closer to him. He reaches out for you, arm wrapping around your waist as he moves in, close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin. The first kiss you share is light, almost careful, and soft, but it’s enough to make your stomach flip. Changbin has a small smile when he pulls away, which makes you smile as well. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you say and he shakes his head, his own smile growing. “It’s the least I can do for my girlfriend. I mean.. I hope you will be, anyways.”

“Of course I will be,” you giggle, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.” “In that case!” Changbin rises suddenly, surprising you as he clasps your hands in his. “Y/N. In case it’s not obvious, I really like you. Will you be my girlfriend?” 

You giggle as you accept, and his smile is beaming as he lies back down and pulls you into another kiss. “Get some rest now, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up,” Changbin speaks softly as his arms wrap around you in a hug.

You close your eyes as you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, feeling nothing but happiness and comfort as you once again fall asleep against him.

The weeks following making your relationship with Changbin official are simultaneously the most elating and the most fraught you’d ever lived. Both of which due to the fact that Changbin seems to be literally perfect.

He’s attentive, funny, and incredibly caring, all while being devastatingly cute and handsome. He’s also the most selfless and encouraging person you’ve ever been with, and it riddles you with guilt every time you remember what you ultimately have to do. 

Can you bring yourself to betray him after all this? Your allegiance is supposed to align with your brother, but the more time you spend with Changbin, the more you question if it’s something you can really do. He was just so different, almost painfully so– the mere thought of breaking his trust fills you with a dread you’ve never experienced before now. 

Apart from that, as you expected, Changbin keeps his work life and home life separate. He might tell you he’s stressed, or in vague terms he'll talk about why a case is hard for him currently, but he never shares details. And you never press him, though technically you should.

That’s what you were supposed to be doing here– getting information, passing it along, giving Chan the upper hand he needs to help Minho. And the fact that you don’t press for details, the fact that you don’t want to, also fills you with guilt.

You should want to help your brother, to help Minho out of his situation, but you don’t. Plus, you’re only here because Chan asked you to be, because he set everything up for you, because he put his trust in you.

Yet here you are, 3 months later with nothing to show for it. Chan is patient, he isn’t expecting any huge revelation right away as he knew building trust with someone isn’t something that happens over night, but it won’t be that way forever.

You don’t know when, but a time will come when your brother asks you what you have. What you’ve learned, how your progress with Changbin is, and what steps you’ve been taking to gather information. But what will you even say in response?

Can you be honest in that situation, and admit that you like Changbin too much to hurt him? You’re torn between the obligation you have to your brother, and the feelings you have for Changbin. What will you do when you inevitably have to choose between them, and decide which bond is the more important one to uphold? 

“You okay, honey?” Changbin’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Oh, sorry, just nervous I guess,” you answer with a smile that you hope he can’t tell is forced.

“Don’t worry, Hyunjin’s nice, I promise! And he’ll love you, I’m sure of it,” he smiles as he gives you a peck on the head. You smile and thank him, feeling a bit guilty that he’s trying to comfort you over a white lie, but telling the truth certainly isn’t something you’re ready to do yet. 

Well, maybe it isn’t entirely a lie– you are nervous to meet Hyunjin for the first time too. That’s what brought you to Changbin’s place today; his best friend, who you were originally supposed to meet the night of your 2nd date, is coming over for dinner today.

He finally has free time in his schedule following the exhibit and family responsibilities, and Changbin excitedly planned for, in his words, his best friend and his favorite girl to finally meet. 

Changbin, despite considering himself to not be much of a cook, did a lot of work to make the dinner nice. Not so much for Hyunjin of course, but for you. He’s secretly hoping you’ll be impressed by his efforts and compliment him (he lives for your praise, you've begun to notice.)

It doesn’t take much longer for Hyunjin to arrive, with Changbin being full of smiles as he introduces the two of you to each other. You try your best to not be awkward as you make small talk, though thankfully (and as usual) Changbin easily steers the conversations and makes them lively.

He encourages you to talk about yourself as well, as opposed to just making you listen to them catch up, and you appreciate that he wants you to be an active participant of the conversation instead of just existing there.

“Did Changbin tell you how we became friends?” Hyunjin asks towards the end of the meal, which makes Changbin audibly groan in response. “Do you have to bring that up every time? It’s embarrassing!” 

You chuckle as you listen to your boyfriend complain. He’s brought up embarrassing memories to you before so you are a bit surprised by his outburst, but maybe it’s because he wanted to tell you on his own time.

“But it’s my favorite story! And it’s not even embarrassing, you’re just dramatic,” Hyunjin says and Changbin pouts and crosses his arms. “Shouldn’t I be the one to decide which of my memories are embarrassing or not?” 

“Well it’s my memory too, and I say it’s not,” Hyunjin says matter-of-factly. Changbin’s pout grows as he looks over at you and notices your eager expression. You definitely want to hear the story now; you’re so curious! “Fine,” he sighs in defeat as he lets his head fall to the table. “But you better not laugh!” 

“I won’t, I promise,” you say with a sweet smile. You can tell he’s not genuinely upset; if he was it would be obvious. Maybe he’s just a little nervous about what your reaction will be? But you’ll give him all the reassurance he needs that you won’t find this funny if it’s not something he’s able to laugh at too.

You give him a small kiss for being a good sport, which causes him to turn his head away to hide the smile that starts to grow when you do. You turn your attention back to Hyunjin as he begins telling the story.

“So, we’re in middle school right? And I didn’t have any friends. I was the kind of kid that preferred to stay indoors and read or draw than be outside, so I didn’t get along much with the other kids who loved to play around roughly in the yard. I wouldn’t say I was bullied, but the other boys weren’t quiet about the fact that I was weird.” 

“And then Changbin transfers in later in the year, and not even a few days into his first week there, he’s already fighting kids for being mean to me! Just a boy in his class he’s never even spoken to before, and he wanted to defend me anyways.”

It’s easy to see why this is Hyunjin’s favorite story, and he smiles warmly as he tells it. “And it might be hard to imagine, but he was small back then, so he was fighting kids like, twice his size.”

“Yah! You didn’t have to bring that part up!” Changbin lifts his head to exclaim, making you giggle. “What’s wrong with that? It shows how kind and brave you were,” you say.

The pout practically melts off his face, easily turning into a small smile at your compliment. “Yeah, well.. I still am, you know.” 

“Of course I know, that’s why I like you so much,” you say before giving him another peck. His bashful smile is so sweet and cute, you have to resist the urge to attack him with more kisses in front of Hyunjin.

“See, I did you a favor by telling her! You loved the story, right Y/N?” Hyunjin wears a victorious, almost I-told-you-so type of smile as you nod. It just makes you like him more, to be honest, knowing that he’s been this way since he was young– chivalrous and sweet above all else.

“We became good friends after that. And eventually Changbin told me he wanted to help everyone someday, like a superhero.” Changbin groans again as you giggle at Hyunjin’s words. That must be another reason he’s embarrassed– wanting to be a superhero when you grow up isn’t the most realistic thing to aspire to.

Still, it's more than common for kids to want to be something impossible– and it warms your heart just how selfless he was, even then. “I knew you’d laugh,” he grumbles as he pouts. 

“I’m not laughing at you Binnie, I just think you’re cute,” you tell him sweetly, and his face turns a light shade of pink. “I feel like I’m being bullied right now,” Changbin says as he points between the two of you. “You’re banding together to embarrass me.”

“Here, I’ll make it up to you by cleaning up,” you say as you rise to your feet. “Wait, no, I’ll do it!” Changbin protests, grabbing your used plate from your hands. “You’re my guest, I’ll take care of it.”

You want to argue and help, but you know there’s no point; Changbin is stubborn about things like this. So you concede easily and sit back down.

“Changbin seems happy. I’m glad he has you,” Hyunjin says after Changbin steps away to put the dishes in his sink, apparently not wanting to fluster the man further by saying it in front of him. “It might be hard to tell now, but he was depressed for a long time.” 

Your heart squeezes in your chest at the words. You loved that you were able to make Changbin happier, but it was equally painful. You know what your reality is, and what you’re supposed to be doing here. You know, but you don’t want to.

“He’s a good man,” you reply, “he deserves to be happy.” Hyunjin smiles, and Changbin walks back in, equally as smiley and oblivious to the small conversation you just had.

Fuck, you felt terrible. You now knew quite a bit about Changbin's best with his ex, and what led to his divorce. He bore the entirety of his heart to you, feeling like it was important to bring up when you were starting to get serious so that the problems he experienced back then wouldn’t repeat themselves in his relationship with you.

He worked really hard to get where he is today, to become chief of police. He had a strong sense of justice, and an equally strong urge to help people. But eventually, that passion started to cause a rift in his relationship. His ex felt neglected and alone most nights while Changbin was spending all his free time putting in extra hours, working harder than he had to.

But he wanted to, he loved doing it, he had so much pride in his career. And that pride and passion led him to his dream position, and effectively made him the youngest person to get so far in such a short amount of time. He was proud of himself, of the life he built, and it devastated him when he realized his partner didn’t feel the same way. 

Changbin’s ex didn’t want someone who spent all their free time buried in work, they wanted him to be more present. They wanted someone to spend quality time with, who would make time for them and the family they planned to one day build, who would prioritize them above all else.

Even on his time off he thought about work, he talked about cases and sometimes even brought his work home with him– but his partner didn’t want that to be their entire life. He explained that he was confused at first; he didn’t understand how his dedication to his career could cause this to happen.

In his mind, everything was perfect– his dream career, a beautiful house, and a loving partner. It took time for him to understand their perspective and see what he could have done differently, but it was too late by then for him to make it work.

His career was important to him and he wasn’t wrong for that, but they also weren’t wrong for wanting to be with someone more attentive and less busy, and he understood that now.

That’s why he wanted to make sure you understood that about him, and would accept him if he ever spent long hours in his office or a case required his urgent attention. And in return, he’d make sure he’d do what he should to be a good boyfriend on his time off.

He'd do his best to leave work at work, to make adequate time for you and not let you fall to the wayside when a case is capturing his attention. He'd shower you with affection, he'd make time for you in whatever ways he could, he's be present– that was his promise to you.

Those years were hard for him, but he learned a lot from it; about how to find the balance between his work and home life, how to turn off his 'police chief' brain at the end of the shift, and use his time off for what it's meant for.

It’s also part of the reason he doesn’t tell you about things in detail, afraid that you might begin to resent him in the same way his ex had. That if he spends too much time absorbed in his work that you’ll just decide you’ve had enough and walk away from him. 

It was hard for Changbin to admit that to you, but he knew he had to bring it up early so you knew. But truthfully, you only ever admired him. You loved when he was passionate or excited, and you couldn’t imagine ever shutting him down or making him feel bad for it.

You loved seeing his beaming smile every time he said a case was solved, when there was a successful interrogation at the office, or evidence came back nailing their suspect. You couldn’t imagine ever seeing that unbridled joy and not smiling along with him.

And so, because his ex didn’t, you told him you were proud of him. You told him he did a good job, you shared in his happiness, you met his enthusiasm with love.

Love? Were you in love?

Is that why your heart ached so much? But it’s natural to feel bad right? Changbin is a good person and you don’t want to do something cruel to him. It’s normal to be upset about that.

It’s normal for your heart to hurt over this. It’s normal for dread to course through your veins, to not want to imagine how much pain he would be in if you betrayed his trust. That’s all normal, so surely you’re not in love with him already? Right? 

You swallow apprehensively as you look at Changbin. He’s talking animatedly with Hyunjin, his smile as bright as ever, his loud voice full of joy. Normally seeing him like that made you happy too; you’d smile right along with him, giggling at all his cute expressions and declarations.

But now there’s a lump in your throat, hands shaking as the anxiety starts to consume you. You don’t want to hurt him. You don’t want to do this anymore. You don't want to be the reason all his progress his undone.

Changbin is an observant man, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom before he can read your expression and see that something is bothering you. You take deep breaths, hands trembling as you try to calm yourself. 

You’re just anxious, that’s all it is, it’ll pass, you’ll be fine, you tell yourself. You give yourself a moment longer before washing your hands and stepping out to rejoin the men. 

Thankfully, you successfully managed to calm yourself for now, and rejoin their conversation organically. It was a relief honestly that Changbin didn’t seem to be aware of the internal battle you were having with yourself.

You mentally thanked Hyunjin for keeping him distracted enough, as you knew Changbin’s care for you would make all those emotions you’re trying to hold back erupt. And if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t ready to face those feelings just yet. 

It didn’t take much longer for the day to transition into night, with Hyunjin needing to bid his goodbyes to return to his family. Changbin made him promise to bring them next time, of course, and Hyunjin happily agreed to bring them if they were able.

The moment his friend leaves, Changbin turns to you with an almost hopeful look. “You don’t work tomorrow, right?” he asks, and you can tell by the small pout on his lips that he intends to ask something of you. 

“No, I don’t,” you assure with a soft smile, wondering what he was about to segway into. “Stay the night with me,” he continues his pout, looking at you with his puppy eyes that you’ve grown fond of.

“But none of my things are here,” you say with a small frown, which only makes his pouting even more blatant. “You can just wear something of mine! Please?”

It wasn’t really the clothes you were worried about; you had makeup on and your skin would surely suffer if you left it on all night. You weren’t sure if Changbin had anything in his cabinet that would be sufficient enough to remove it.

But God, his cute begging always made you so weak. How were you supposed to say no when he hit you with the puppy dog look? So you supposed you would have to make do with whatever he may or may not have, and apologize to your skin tomorrow by giving it some extra care once you return home. 

“I’ll stay,” you say with a faux exasperated sigh but Changbin is unphased by it, immediately beaming at you with pure happiness. “I’ll grab something for you, wait here,” he smiles as he turns quickly to his bedroom to search for suitable pajamas for you.

You can't help but smile as well by his cute behavior; Changbin may look intimidating, but he truly is a softie underneath it all. He was easily the most clingy man you’d ever met, and he had no shame in pouting or pulling a cute face to get a kiss or a smile from you.

Honestly, you really liked it. After years of dating hard men who showed no affection or genuine kindness, you loved that he seemed to have it in droves, and offered it freely. 

“Here you go baby,” he says in his cheery tone, placing his selection carefully in your hands when he returns. “You go ahead and get changed, I’m gonna clean up in here first.” He said after giving you a quick peck on the lips, turning his attention to the dishes that mounted in the sink from your dinner with Hyunjin.

You walk to his bathroom, and set his clothes down on the sink as you try to make a plan on how you can remove your makeup while doing minimal damage to your skin. 

You feel like you’ve done a decent enough job with what you had at your disposal, and now that you feel content with your makeup removal, you decide it's time to change into the shirt that Changbin provided you.

While you haven’t seen Changbin without a shirt before, anyone can tell just from a look that his muscles are big, so you hope that the shirt he provided you with will be loose enough to keep you comfortable tonight. Once it’s pulled over your head, you feel happy enough with the way it fits on you. 

It wasn’t long enough to conceal your underwear by any means, and your curves are still obvious, but it’s not overly tight or restrictive at all; you find yourself hoping that Changbin will like the way you look in it. Scooping up the dress you wore for dinner in your arms, you stepped out of the bathroom and walked to the living room where your bag was still resting on the couch.

The light in the kitchen was off, the only illumination between the spaces being the night light plugged in next to his couch. Deciding that must mean Changbin was finished cleaning up and is already in his bedroom, you swiftly shove your dress into your bag before picking it up to take with you.

The door to his bedroom is ajar, allowing light to filter into the hallway and confirming to you that's where he is. You knock carefully, deciding you shouldn’t just barge into his room if he is changing. “You can come in!” You hear his voice call out, and so you push the door open further to step inside.

As expected, Changbin had changed into his own selection of pajamas (a simple shirt and sweatpants), and was sitting at the foot of the bed with his tv remote in hand, shuffling through his selection of streaming services. Stepping in fully, you close his door behind you as you had learned from your nights together that was his preference when sleeping.

You noticed him swallow after he turned his gaze to you, but he didn’t allow his eyes to travel down to your legs. “Is the shirt comfortable enough? Do– Do you need anything else? I have shorts and–” 

“No, I’m comfortable, thank you Binnie,” you smile as you step towards the bed, placing your bag down next to the nightstand. You were sure that he wanted to look, but you strangely liked that he hadn’t. Changbin was always careful and respectful, and you were sure that as soon as he realized the shirt didn’t cover you fully, he made a conscious effort to keep his eyes on your face.

Plus, he asked if you were comfortable and offered more clothes without hesitation, which you appreciated and once again testified his chivalrous nature to you. His posture relaxed at your answer; his intention was for your body to be completely covered but as long as you were comfortable that was all that mattered to him. 

“I can’t remember whose turn it is to pick tonight so I started looking just in case,” he explains, quickly moving on now that your comfort is assured to him. You and Changbin had made a habit of going back and forth picking things to watch on the nights you stayed together, a ritual that you had come to really look forward to.

And you were fairly sure it is your turn to pick tonight, but since Changbin has been so sweet and kind to you, you wanted to let him put on whatever might have caught his eye. “It’s your turn,” you say as you settle onto his bed.

“In that case, let's watch this!” he says with a smile as he quickly shuffles through a selection of animated movies and lands on Howl’s Moving Castle. “Hyunjin was obsessed with this movie when we were kids, we’d watch it all the time,” he says with a fond smile.

You’ve seen it as well, but Changbin’s earnest joy to share a childhood film with you is incredibly sweet, so you feign ignorance as he excitedly shares his memories with you. He continues talking even as he stands to turn off the light, and crawls his way into bed next to you. 

You find his nostalgia trip heartwarming, and you listen to his tales with a soft smile, interjecting only if you have to. After getting under the blanket, he settles in against his headboard and opens his arm out for you to curl up against him as you always did.

Keeping in line with your routine, you don't hesitate to get close and lay your head against his shoulder, letting his arm wrap around you comfortably. “Comfy, baby?” he asks after you’ve finished shuffling into your usual position, and you nod, assuring him that you’re ready for him to play the movie. 

Time passes in comfortable silence, with the occasional small laugh coming from Changbin at Calcifer’s attitude. You, on the other hand, wanted to pay attention to the movie and enjoy it with him, but instead became lost in thought, not focusing at all on the scenes playing in front of you.

Your mind had wandered back to what a future with Changbin would be like. Would this routine continue even years in the future? Would you cook dinner for each other after late nights, cuddle under blankets as you watched tv, talk about the mundane things in life over morning coffee? Would you still share soft kisses, hold each other's hand at every opportunity, text each other during work just to check in and say you missed each other?

You stopped hoping for a love like this a long time ago; the domesticity that comes with sharing your life with someone you love always feeling like a hopeless dream. Was it Changbin that awoke something deep inside you, or were your feelings always there, but pushed so deep you couldn't find them anymore, where they lied forgotten and left to rot?

You’d never met someone so gentle and considerate until Changbin, and his care was laced in every interaction you had with him. Every word, every gesture, every look was so full of affection and tenderness that it left you reeling. How could someone like him exist? 

Noticing you’ve been quieter than usual, Changbin turns his head to look at you, checking if you’ve already fallen asleep. “Are you still awake, love?” he whispers softly, moving his hand from your waist to rub careful circles on your arm.

“Mm, sorry, I spaced out,” you answer, not sure if you're ready to tell him how badly you want to spend forever with him. You know you love him– it's obvious that love is what this unfamiliar feeling you are failing to push away is, but wasn't it too soon to say? You didn't want to scare him off by confessing something so deep after only having dated for a few months. 

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" he asks with a frown, concern clearly showing in his eyes. He was pretty sure he hadn't said or done anything wrong, at least not on purpose; he couldn't guess what could possibly be bothering you. But he can tell something is– he's never seen you look so sullen.

You swallow as you look up at him. What are you supposed to say? 'I'm in love with you, I want to spend all my days with you, you're everything I've ever wanted.' There was absolutely no way you could say all that right now– it was too much, and left you too vulnerable. 

And then there was the matter of how this relationship even started. You were supposed to make Changbin trust you so could start leaking information to Chan; the entire foundation was built with the intent of deceiving him. You didn't think you could handle the heartbreak you'd feel if you lost him; your days with him were the safest and happiest you'd ever felt, and you were scared of losing it.

You were terrified of that truth being revealed to Changbin, dread settling in your gut when you thought about what kind of expression he'd have. Anger, resentment, disgust.. All possibilities you didn't want to see on him. 

But it's not like you could simply open up about this. Sure, Chan was your brother and he wanted you to be happy, but could he really accept you being with the very officer that oversaw the arrest of Minho? Wouldn't that feel like a betrayal to him? Would he offer his blessing for you to be with someone who threatened the very existence of his life?

You couldn't imagine a scenario where he'd ever be okay with such a thing. Even if he understood you couldn't help it, you knew he'd still be upset and want you to end your relationship with Changbin regardless of your feelings. 

Everything was so complicated and there was no easy solution. No matter what choice was made, someone would be hurt– but you couldn't bear for that person to be Changbin. He doesn't deserve it, he's already been through so much pain, his healing process long and difficult. The thought of you making it worse when you were supposed to be the person helping him feel secure made your heart ache unbearably. 

Before you could even realize it was happening, tears had welled in your eyes and began falling. Changbin's heart sank when he saw your tears, panic settling in as he carefully turned to cup your face in his hands. "Why are you crying, baby? What is it?" He asked, voice soft as he wiped the tears away with his thumbs.

What are you supposed to say? 'Our relationship is built on lies. My brother is the man you've been searching for for so long. I'm scared that you'll hate me for lying to you. I'm scared to be alone after knowing what real love feels like.' Your lip quivers as the thoughts cycle in your mind. 

Anxiety is welling within Changbin, but he's trying to keep a calm exterior for your sake. He doesn't want to agitate whatever might be bothering you and make it worse, but he can't help the way his mind races through the possibilities.

He'd never seen you like this before, and it felt so sudden that he didn't know what to do for you. Everything was fine before now, but maybe you were just good at disguising when something was wrong. Maybe he had upset you without realizing, and you just pushed it aside until you couldn't any longer. 

"I.." you start, trying your best to get anything out at this point. Changbin was being so gentle and patient with you, which only spurred on your intense emotions. His gaze was fixed on you, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your skin and wiping away tears when they fell.

Even with anxiety growing in him, he didn't push you. He waited for you to answer on your own time, whispering soothing words to you. "It's okay, everything's okay, I've got you," he'd say, doing his best to console you despite not knowing the cause for your tears. 

"I love you," you say quietly, voice trembling as you wait for rejection. There's no way he'd return your feelings after such a short amount of time. Wasn’t 3 months too soon to fall in love with someone so entirely?

There's no way he'd look at you right now and think this was normal. His rejection wouldn't be harsh, he was much too considerate to hurt you, but knowing he didn't feel the same would be enough to shatter you into pieces. 

Changbin was completely stunned, brows furrowing in concern. "You're.. crying because you love me?" he asks, trying to wrap his head around your answer, and understand why that would cause you to cry like this. He certainly didn't expect this to be the way he first hears that admission from your lips.

He watches your expression carefully, trying to be patient and hear your thoughts without jumping to any conclusions or putting words in your mouth. "I.. I've never been with someone as good as you. And you're– you're so sweet to me, and I'm scared you'll leave me," you say between shaky inhales and his heart aches in response. What had you been through before now to make you feel this way? 

"I'm not going to leave you, I begged you to be here, remember?" he said, hoping the memory of him cutely begging for you to stay with him tonight would help you feel better. He continues after you nod, moving his hands to your own to hold them. "I'm not ever going to leave you, okay? I promise."

He squeezes your hands gently as your lip quivers again, eyes threatening to spill more tears as you look down at his hands grasping yours. It was so bittersweet.

You were comforted by his words, hearing them made you happy, but at the same time you knew it couldn't be true. If he learned the truth he'd hate you, he'd leave you, you were sure of it. 

But you wanted to believe he wouldn't, wanted to believe in this promise. You wanted to believe you could have a future together, where every day was full of joy and love. Even if the rational part of your brain knew how impossible it was, you wanted nothing more than for that to be your reality.

"Can you look at me?" he asks softly, and you take a deep breath before obliging, hands trembling as you once again meet his eyes. "I love you," he says and you suck in your breath, trying your best not to cry even harder than you already have been. "I love you," he repeats, keeping one hand wrapped around your own while the other returns to your face. 

He kisses you as if you're made of glass, so careful that you almost don't register it. Was it possible for a heart to break and mend at the same time? To feel euphoric and devastated all at once? Rational and coherent thought leaves you now, being overtaken by your yearning for the man in front of you. He changes his hold on your hand, intertwining your fingers as he pulls away to read your expression. 

"I don't know what you've been through before to make you cry like this, but I'm here for you now," he says softly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin. "I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner and made you worry, but I'll repeat it as many times as you need to hear it. I love you."

You look into his eyes, seeing for yourself the true depth of his words. You knew Changbin was careful and considerate toward you, but he also upheld truth above all else. He didn't say things he didn't mean; he was honest even to a fault. He always said the things he truly thought, regardless of what any consequence may be. You believed he wouldn't say something like this just to make you feel better. 

So, to hear him say "I love you," it can only be true. You were both scarred from your pasts, you with abusive exes and relationships built on false pretenses with no genuine love to be had, and Changbin the sufferer of a devestating divorce, left alone by the only person he'd loved before now.

Maybe fate brought you together because you were both desperately in need of something that wasn't obtainable before. Love, connection, understanding, belonging.. Foreign feelings that had rooted in you faster than you could even fathom. 

"Kiss me again please," you say so quietly it's almost a whisper. You want the feeling of Changbin to consume you completely, this feeling of love and acceptance to encompass you in your entirety, to quell the torrential downpour of thoughts raging in your mind until he is all that is left.

Changbin hears your request despite how softly you speak, and quickly moves to oblige you, squeezing the fingers intertwined with his as a gesture of comfort. His lips against yours tune out the world around you, the movie playing in the background long since forgotten.

His kisses are one after another, soft and gentle but still enough to leave you breathless. "I love you," he reminds you again between breaths, and you don't hesitate to say it back each time, even with the way the air has dissipated from your lungs with each moment of his lips on yours. 

When he finally stops kissing you to allow you both to breathe, he rests his forehead against yours, looking straight at you once again. You thankfully have stopped crying, the crashing waves of anxiety you had felt moments ago receding with each of Changbin’s sweet touches and words.

You knew they'd return, there was no escaping from your problems, but at least for some small amount of time you could lose yourself in this moment and forget about it all. "You have no idea how much I adore you," Changbin tells you as he separates one of his hands from yours, reaching up to instead rub his thumb against your cheek.

"Thank you, Binnie… I'm sorry for crying, I must've startled you.." you frown as you look at him, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable from your outpouring of emotions. "Don't be sorry honey, it's okay.. All that matters to me is that you feel better," he says, still using his soft and gentle tone. 

Separating your hand from his, you move to pull him into a tight hug, wrapping your arms around him as you bury your head into his shoulder. "You feeling okay now?" he asks as he wraps his own arm around your waist, and you nod against his neck, telling him that you just want to be close to him.

He smiles, finding the sudden clinginess endearing. After all, It's usually him being the overly touchy and clingy one of the two of you. "Let's get more comfy then," he says as he uses the strength of his arms to pull you into his lap before he shifts to let his back rest against the headboard of the bed, your legs on either side of him. 

One arm stays firmly wrapped around you, while the other travels up and down your back, ensuring that you feel comfortable and relaxed. The movie is nearing its conclusion now, but neither of you are focused on it. You are locked in your feelings of serene comfort, of a love that you'd felt was not meant for you, the way Changbin so carefully put you back together when you were falling apart.

It meant everything to you, in ways you felt no words could express. Changbin meanwhile was observing you carefully for any changes in your demeanor or breathing, just wanting to ensure he was there for you for any and every thing. 

"Binnie.." you breathe out as you sit up to look at him once more. "Yes, love?" he implores, eyes full of curiosity but also patience. He won't rush you to get anything out, giving you the time to prepare yourself to say the things that are in your head, ensuring things are always at your own pace. "I want you," you say after a breath, face heating up a bit at the admission, hoping he understands the implication of your statement. 

While you are certainly no stranger to sex, you are a stranger to intimacy. The vulnerability of offering yourself up to someone, showing them all that you are and all that you have. You've never exposed yourself to someone in such a raw way, poured out feelings so intensely and honestly.

You love him, and you want him in any and every way he would have you. You want that feeling of making love that always eluded you, the feeling of trust and care that comes with being in the hands of someone who loves you, truly loves you, and wants you as much as you want them. 

"You have me," he says, bringing his face close to yours once more, "I'm yours." Your face burns further at his confession, shivers running down your spine as your lips meet once again.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you lean into the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck. You lost track of the amount of time you spent with your lips on his, the intensity building as each kiss became more heated than the last. 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you feel his tongue against your lips for the first time, as if you had never experienced such a thing before now. You part your lips for him, allowing his tongue to slip inside your mouth. His tongue moves in languid circles around your own, relishing in the taste and feeling of you.

You're the first to pull away to breathe properly, looking at Changbin with a flushed face, and God, is he pretty like this. He's nearly as breathless as you, dark curly hair disheveled from your fingers absentmindedly running through it, looking at you with a look you've never seen on him before.

Yearning? Desire? "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he says as he moves one of his arms to touch your face again, cupping it in his hand. "My pretty girl."

It had to be impossible for your face to get any hotter than this, you thought. Sure, you could put together that Changbin was attracted to you, but to hear him say it like this was.. different. You weren't used to this side of him yet– the side that would shower you in love and praise while looking at you with such a lust filled gaze.

"I…" you swallow, trying to squash down the shyness bubbling within you. Was it normal to feel like this the first time with someone you love? You wouldn't really know. 

"I want to.. Can you touch me..?" you finally manage to get out, despite the nervousness settling over you. "As long as you’re sure," he says, hands moving to rest on your hips as he observes your face carefully. You've had your fair share of make out sessions as your relationship progressed further, but the two of you never took it any further than that.

Truthfully, he wants nothing more than to feel you under his palms, but he hadn't yet because he wanted to take things slow and treat you right. And now it was apparent that you were going through so much internally, the last thing Changbin wanted to do was take advantage while you were emotionally vulnerable. 

"I'm sure," you nod without hesitation. You were attracted to him from the day you met him, and the more you learned about him, the more you grew to fall in love with him, little by little. You love him. You trust him.

And yes, this foreign experience did leave you shyer and more vulnerable than you ever felt, but you wanted him more than you ever wanted anyone. Changbin can see the certainty clear in your eyes, and he smiles slightly, gripping your hips a little firmer than before. "Just.. tell me if you change your mind, okay?"

"I will," you promise him, though you were certain you wouldn't be changing your mind. Changbin's care and consideration for you only made him more desirable in your eyes, and assured you that trusting him would never be something you'd regret.

Changbin leans up to meet you, pressing his lips to yours once more, squeezing the meat of your hips in his hands. You part your lips when you feel his tongue against you again, allowing it to lick against your own until his hands reach the hem of the borrowed t-shirt. 

"Is it okay to take it off?" he asks, and you quickly give your approval, lifting your arms so he can pull it over your head effectively. He stares at your topless form shamelessly, swallowingly thickly as he takes it all in.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he says lowly, but you barely have time to react before his lips are on yours again, needy and eager. Changbin's thumbs rub over your nipples, causing you to shudder and mewl into his mouth. 

Your body is sensitive from lack of touch, and you feel as if you're becoming dizzy from the way his fingers rub and gently pinch your nipples as his tongue stays in your mouth, never separating from your own for more than a second. You're both breathing heavily by the time he pulls away from you, the longing in his eyes clear as he looks at you.

Changbin takes your hands suddenly, placing them on his own chest. "You can touch me too. Anywhere you want," he says, watching as your face heats up in response, "I'm all yours."

You swallow as you nod, the thought of touching him intimately making your heart accelerate. He had never seen you blush like this before, and he found this new shy side to you incredibly endearing, especially knowing it was all for him. Your hands tremble slightly in anticipation as you reach for the hem of his own shirt. Changbin raises his arms without you even having to say anything, and it is quickly discarded to the floor. 

It's Changbin's turn to feel a newfound shyness as your eyes roam the expanse of his torso. While his body is definitely good, he doesn't make a habit of showing it to just anyone; it's something reserved only for moments like this, to be viewed only by someone he's comfortable with and trusts.

As you expected, he has an incredible amount of muscle built up, and you let your hands travel up his stomach, over his chest, down the length of his arms, taking it all in. Some areas of his skin held scars, from wounds you assumed he got from his time on the force, and you glided over them gently, treating them with care.

"You're amazing," you tell him when you look back up to his face, and he smiles, the cute kind you've grown to love so much. 

"Not any more so than you," he responds, turning your compliment back to you. You smile back at him, pink dusting both your faces as you pull him into another kiss. You keep it brief this time, instead opting to move down to his neck.

You feel Changbin tense underneath you as your lips touch his skin, leaving sweet kisses before latching to a spot and sucking. The soft groan that leaves his mouth goes straight to your core, and you can immediately tell it's something you'll become addicted to hearing. 

His hands are on your hips again, squeezing every time you get another groan out of him. Feeling his cock hard against you, you grind down on it experimentally, and Changbin sucks in a breath, fingers digging into your plush skin at the contact.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath, head lolling back as you continue to rub yourself against him. You separate from his neck, looking at his face as you grind down against him. His eyes are closed, brows furrowed in pleasure and lips parted, sharp breaths leaving him with each roll of your hips.

"Binnie," you call to him, and he quickly moves his head up right, opening his eyes to look at you. You stop your movements, instead dipping your hand in his waistband to feel his cock with your own hand as you capture his lips with another kiss. It’s thick in your hand, so much so that you almost can't wrap your fingers entirely around it. 

He hisses at the contact, body shuddering as you run your thumb over the tip and smear the pre-cum gathering there. Just as he had done to you, you lick at his lips, swallowing his groans as your hand runs up and down his length.

Your free hand rests on his chest, helping to keep you stable as you enclose your fist around his cock, pumping it at a steady pace. Changbin makes no effort to quiet himself or hold back, and you love it. He's vocal, letting you hear for yourself how good you're making him feel, arousal building more and more within you for every new noise you earn from him. 

He breaks away from the kiss, looking down to watch your hand work him. “God-” he groans, unconsciously bucking his hips up to meet your fist. He forgot what the feeling of having someone else’s hand on him was like, and you were good; way too good.

He would undoubtedly cum if he let you keep going, and he didn’t want that to happen before he got the chance to please you. "W-Wait," he manages to say, chest heaving as he tries to steady his heavy breaths. You quickly retract your hand, worry clear on your face as you look at him.

Did you do something wrong? Move faster than he was ready for? Changbin can easily spot the worry growing on your expression and he quickly moves a hand to your face, rubbing gently as he had done earlier to comfort you. "Don't worry baby, it felt really good. But I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you." 

You flush at his words, stomach flipping in anticipation as you await his next move. "Is it still okay to touch you?" he asks, hands remaining in place until you give him your okay. "Yes.. please," you say and Changbin smiles before he gives you another quick kiss.

He reaches a hand between your legs, rubbing over your underwear and feeling the way the arousal that built up soaks through it. "Oh God," he groans at the proof of your excitement, and heat flashes over you in response. You bury your head into his shoulder, whining as embarrassment overtakes you. Changbin chuckles softly at your reaction, finding you incredibly cute like this. 

"Tell me to stop at any time if it's too much," he whispers to you softly; no matter how turned on he is or how much he enjoys this new side of you, it doesn't matter if you're uncomfortable and not enjoying it with him.

"I'm going to put my hand in now," he tells you, pausing for a moment in case you want to tell him to wait. Getting no protests, he slips his hand into your underwear, rubbing between your folds carefully to start with. 

"Tell me what you like,” Changbin says, his first touch of your clit being feather light and almost cautious, “What makes you feel good?" He looks at you attentively as he waits for your answer, trying his best not to smile from the bashful expression on your face.

Of course he would ask you that, it’s Changbin. He’s earnest, considerate, and thoughtful; everyone is different and he knows that, so he wants to hear what you like straight from your own mouth instead of risking fumbling around until he finds what you like through chance. 

Besides all of that, he has to admit that hearing you tell him what you like yourself makes the moment all the more erotic for him. How can he skip over the opportunity to make his normally confident girlfriend a shy, blushing puddle? 

You want to answer him right away, but between his gaze at your face and the way his finger rubs easily over your clit, your brain feels muddled. The way your mouth slightly opens and closes in an attempt to get something out as your face heats up for the umpteenth time doesn’t go unnoticed, so Changbin smiles softly as he whispers encouragement to you. "You can do it, love. Tell me what you like."

“A-A bit harder,” you manage to mutter, and Changbin wastes no time to do as you ask. “Like this?” he inquires as he applies more pressure, watching you closely to gauge your reaction as he does.

The way your hands grip at his shoulders tighter as your head slumps forward with a soft moan emitting from you tells him that he’s on the right track at the very least. “Is that good?” he asks, gently brushing the hair that fell in front of your face behind your ear so he can see you clearly. 

You nod, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as a whimper escapes you. Changbin smiles, and if you were looking at his face you would clearly see the expression of soft satisfaction on him. Not smug by any means, just simply happy to see you enjoying this as much as he is.

“Can you lean back for me?” he asks, and your brows furrow, a little confused by his request, but you oblige him. You lean back, resting your palms behind you and against his legs for support. 

Changbin thanks you before leaning himself forward, making the intention of his request clear by attaching his lips to your neck in the same way you had done to him. He wanted to mirror the attention you gave him, to make you feel as good as you made him feel in any way he could.

His free hand travels to one of your breasts, giving a few gentle squeezes before he begins to rub your nipple between his thumb and finger. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, your body not used to this kind of attention being given to it, that it leaves you a whining and shuddering mess on top of him. 

His teeth sink gently into the skin connecting your neck with your shoulder, not enough to leave a mark just yet, but enough for you to feel pressure. The contrast between his sharp teeth and gentle licks and kisses lights a fire in you, the desire that was once a small kindling becoming a much larger, fiercer blaze.

You want more, you want him, you want, want, want. He leaves a trail of red on your skin, licking the spots his teeth sink in, peppering them with kisses, and repeating on each new patch of skin he reaches.

Changbin figures he should probably stop before he actually marks your neck; you do work an office job after all. So he pulls away, instead opting to sink his head lower. He plants soft kisses on the nipple that wasn't receiving attention from his fingers, before letting his tongue run over it.

You gasp at the feeling of his tongue on you, and cast your gaze down to look at him. His eyes are locked on yours as you watch his tongue draw circles on your nipple before enclosing his mouth around it. The view alone felt like enough to drive you crazy; it was just so hot, for lack of a better word.

Your hands reach to tangle into his hair, and he groans at each soft tug, encouraging him to keep building the pace and pressure of his fingers on your clit. You're not sure how much time the both of you spent like this; all you can really comprehend is how good it feels, and that you're nearly breathless when he pulls away from your body.

"Do you want more?" he asks you, trying not to give away how eager he actually is in case you don't want that. "Yes, yes, please," you answer quickly, too far gone to be embarrassed by your eagerness, and Changbin smiles as he pulls his hand out of your underwear. "Lay down for me please?" 

You comply with his request, carefully moving yourself off his lap and laying your head against his pillows. Your body trembles in anticipation as he moves himself between your legs, his expression as lust filled as it is soft. His fingers hook into the hem of your underwear, but rather than pulling them down right away, he glances at you once more. "I want to take them off you now, is that okay?" 

"Yes," you assure him, voice soft but sure, and you lift your legs up to make it easier for him. Changbin beams at you once more before he carefully moves your underwear down your legs, tossing them to the side afterwards.

He leans down to kiss you, his hand running down the soft expanse of body to reach your pussy. He rubs between your folds for a few moments, allowing his fingers to get even wetter before he slips one inside slowly. You whine into his mouth at the insertion, and Changbin begins to pump shallowly, prepping you to take another finger. 

A whimper escapes you as his second finger enters you and he pulls away from your mouth to look down at you. "You're so beautiful," Changbin whispers to you as he takes in everything with his eyes. Everything about you is perfect to him, top to bottom, ethereal in every single way. And the fact that you love him, that you want him, that he gets to do this with you… 

He wants to show you much you mean to him with every word and every action. He'll never leave you questioning ever again, never make you doubt your worth or his love. He's so insanely infatuated by you, and he'd never forgive himself if he made you feel unloved and unappreciated. 

He took things slow at first because he needed to. Losing someone he loved because of his own mistakes was something he never wanted to feel again. He didn't want to be heartbroken and he didn't want to lose you; he wanted to show you he could treat you right if you gave him that chance.

So with that in mind he made a conscious effort to be a gentleman, to move at your pace and to respect anything you may or may not want. He gave you his undivided love and attention, he made sure to always express earnestly how much he liked you. And when he realized he was falling in love with you, he knew he had to be better than the person he once was, now more than ever. 

If he wanted just sex, or a shallow connection, he could get that anywhere. What he wanted was love– real love. A person who'd cherish him as much as he did them, who would listen to him, indulge him in his needs, who'd care for him on his bad days, and he'd give it all back to that person in return.

After many failed first dates, or time spent getting to know someone only to realize they weren't compatible, he'd nearly given up hope. So when Jeongin suggested a blind date with you, he thought there was nothing to lose by giving it a shot.

He didn't expect for it to go so well, to become addicted to your smile and your voice, to crave your presence any time he was home, to want to shower you with affection and be showered with it in return. The way you're looking up at him now, entrusting yourself to him, wanting him.. It makes him happier than words can even express.

"You're perfect.. so perfect," Changbin continues, watching as your face heats up from his doting. He's always complimented you, but he understands how different it must feel for you right now. To be showered with affection and love while exposed, while vulnerable, while portraying your authentic self both emotionally and physically– he knows how overwhelming it can be.

And the way you opened up to him, the way you cried for him, the way you expressed your love for him– he knew he could never hurt you the way others have. He wanted to take your heart in his hands and cradle it, protect it. To have you was a gift he'd cherish, and he wanted to make sure you knew how much you meant to him. "I love you."

You barely have time to respond before he kisses you, beginning to move his fingers inside you in earnest. Changbin starts slow, making sure you're well adjusted and comfortable before he picks up his pace. Your breathing goes uneven when he starts to pump his fingers fast, his fingers inside up to the knuckles. You let out a loud gasp when he curls his fingers, hitting your spot expertly.

"Does it feel good, baby?" He asks as he hits your spot over and over again, making you feel dizzy with pleasure. You nod your head quickly at Changbin's question, feeling like trying to conjure words right now is beyond your capabilities. 

"You look so beautiful, feeling so good for me, so perfect," he continues, chuckling softly as you whine in response, trying to resist the urge to look away from him or cover your face in embarrassment. He realizes he's just repeating himself at this point, but your reactions to his praise make it too enjoyable to resist doing. 

"You're so cute," he says, placing soft kisses against your skin as he shifts himself lower, resting between your legs. Changbin pauses the movement of his fingers as he gets comfortable, waiting for you to lift your head to look at him before he continues.

You almost feel like you could pass out; his dark eyes boring into yours, his curly disheveled hair sticking to his skin as sweat forms on his brow, a slight smile evident and complimenting his features. It's overwhelming in the best way possible. 

"I want to do more for you, wanna taste you. Can I?" He asks, the contrast between the soft smile and the lewd request leaving you reeling. "O-Oh, please," you answer eagerly, practically begging for Changbin to do anything and everything he wants to you.

The heat on your face is still apparent but your shyness has become increasingly overridden by need and desperation. You know he'll put all he has into pleasing you, and you want it, crave it. You almost miss the way his eyes glint in excitement before he lowers his head, not wasting any time at using his tongue against your clit.

"Oh my god-" you let out a shaky moan, head falling back against the pillows and body shuddering. His tongue moves in expertly practiced circles, lips enclosing around it as he resumes the thrusting of his fingers. His pace is fast but accurate, hitting your spot over and over as his tongue laps at you. 

You're almost embarrassed by how close you're getting so quickly, whining and moaning repeatedly as your body trembles beneath him. The noises emitting from you are everything to Changbin, soft and sweet just like you, addicting and laced with honey.

Your hips are rolling against him, fingers tangled in his hair, each tug eliciting a groan from him that makes the stimulation on your clit even more intense. "S-So clo-close," you manage to gasp out, toes curling as you quickly approach your high. 

As much as Changbin would love to whisper praises and encouragement as you cum, he doesn't want you to lose the built up momentum by pulling away from you to talk. Instead, he hums in acknowledgement, keeping his rhythm steady as he awaits your release.

Your climax hits you hard, back arching as the intense feeling of relief overtakes you. Your entire body is tingling, mind being numbed by pleasure as your thighs enclose around his head. Even as you clench tightly around his fingers, he keeps the pace the same, helping you ride out your high until he feels you start to squirm away in overstimulation.

He sits up when your thighs relax and fall back against the bed, looking at you with a mix of endearment and satisfaction. You're completely breathless, chest heaving and face flushed, sweat clinging to you and leaving a sheen he can only describe as ethereal. Your beauty is beyond any tangible words he can conjure, but he'll try his best to express it to you, to make you understand how perfect you are to him.

"You did so well for me, baby," he tells you as he slides his fingers out of you, watching you intently as he brings them to his mouth. You swallow as you watch Changbin lick them clean, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the way he maintains eye contact with you through it. "My pretty girl tastes so good too," he says as he crawls back up your body, "So perfect for me." 

"Changbin," you whine with a small pout, and he chuckles as he looks at you fondly, gently brushing the hair clinging to your forehead away. "It's true, you're so perfect. My perfect girl," he smiles as he places a kiss on your temple, then your cheeks, and finally your lips. "You know that, right? You're so pretty," Changbin whispers to you, running his fingers through your hair passively as he looks down at you. 

"Are you trying to make me shy on purpose?" you ask and he laughs, shaking his head. It must be payback for how he felt over dinner.

"I'm just speaking my mind! How cute your reactions are is just a bonus." He kisses you again, pulling you closer to his body as he does. He wraps his arms around you in a hug, pressing your bodies together, and you can feel his erection pressing against your thighs. 

"Do you.. want to keep going..?" you pull away from his kisses to ask. "Mm, I'd love that, but do you want to?" Changbin would be overjoyed to continue, but he didn't want to assume.

If you decided this was enough excitement for you for one night, then he'd accept that, no questions asked. He had all the time in the world with you, and there was no need to rush, nor did he want you to feel pressured. 

"Yes, I want to," you assure him. You knew you wanted to from the start, to feel him wholly and be consumed by the love and trust you have for him. Your mind was full of him, and you wanted your body to be the same. 

“Would you like me to use a condom?” Changbin asks, motioning towards the bedside drawer where he keeps them. He knows from your time together that you’re on birth control, and that you’d be safe if he didn’t use one, but he wouldn't make any assumptions about what you’d be comfortable with. To be with someone without protection required so much trust and love; it was intimate and not something to be taken lightly. 

There is a small moment of hesitation, but not because you have to think about it– no, you know for a fact you want him inside you raw. But how do you say that to his face without feeling like you’re going to combust on the spot?

The romantic inside you reasons that you want to feel him with no barriers because you love him, you want to be close to him and give yourself completely to him. The desperately horny part, meanwhile, is full to the brim with the thought of Changbin’s cum shooting inside you. 

Changbin watches you patiently despite the way his body is screaming in desperation to feel you. He wants you so badly, almost carnally, but he’ll hold back as long as you need him to, be composed and accommodating for as long as necessary.

His heart nearly skips when you finally speak, the anticipation being held by the thinnest of strings, but he’ll be happy no matter what your answer is. Changbin just wants you, that’s all he knows and all that matters. 

“Don’t use one, don’t want you to,” your voice is soft and timid, almost a whisper, but Changbin hears it loud and clear. He’s so focused on you, attuned to you, that he can’t miss it.

His heart quickens as he nods, rendered speechless in what was likely the only time he ever would be. He leans down to kiss you once more, so overtaken by love and excitement that he really can’t help himself. 

His heart races once he's lined himself up at your entrance, but he pauses when he looks at your face, painted with a nervous expression that he can't ignore. "What's wrong? Did you change your mind?" Changbin's expression shifts to concern as he looks down at you, but you quickly shake your head, trying to dispel any worry from him.

"N-No, I still want to! I just– I've never… with someone I love, I mean." You tell him, voice slightly trembling from your admission. There was a time in your past, your first time, where you thought you knew what love was, what it meant and what it felt like. But you were so young then, and anything you felt then paled in comparison to what you felt now with Changbin. 

"Y/N.." Changbin breathes, using your name for the first time all evening. His expression is one of genuine care for you, his eyes soft and full of affection as he gently moves his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. "I'll take care of you, I promise." 

Those men before you who were cruel to you, who didn't treat you with the love and reverence you deserved, who didn't appreciate your beauty and kindness– they were so fucking stupid. He would never make that mistake. He'd do anything for you, love you with all he has and all he is, care for you until the end of his days. That's his promise to you. 

"I know, Binnie. I trust you." You bring a hand up to his face, making sure his eyes are locked on yours as you continue. "Make love to me, please." Changbin’s heart erupts in his chest, the sound of those words falling from your lips strengthening his resolve to be the best he possibly can be for you.

He kisses you softly, squeezing your hand in comfort as his length slowly pushes into you. The stretch stings, but the choked groan Changbin makes is more than enough to make you ignore the discomfort. Changbin stills when his hips are flush with yours, letting you get used to the stretch while continuing to squeeze your hand and pepper your face with gentle kisses. 

“Feeling okay, love?” he asks as he pulls away to check in with you. Tears poke the corners of your eyes, though from pain or emotion he cannot tell. You look up at him, feeling breathless at the sight of him.

The way he looks at you, so full of love and compassion, is unlike anything you’ve experienced with anyone else. “More than okay,” you answer with a soft smile that helps to ease his concern for you, “want you to move.” 

Changbin starts slow, making sure you’re well adjusted before he thrusts in earnest. It doesn’t take him long to figure out the pace and angle that’ll make you see stars, his earlier doting on you with his fingers having prepared him for this moment.

It’s almost too much, your body feeling like a live wire. His free hand travels down to your leg, moving it up and hooking it into his arm to allow himself to sink deeper inside you.

“Fuck, so good, feels so good,” Changbin babbles against your skin, fingers sinking into the flesh of your thigh, letting his nails mark your skin with small crescent moons. He wants to be attentive, wants to care for you properly and make sure he’s pleasing you, but he’s losing composure much faster than he thought he would. 

Changbin’s overwhelming lust for you was held in check by a cracked dam, and the more he felt you squeezing around him, the larger the cracks grew. The break is imminent, a tsunami threatening to overtake him at any moment. But he’ll do his best for you until then, make you feel good, and loved, and happy, until restraint leaves him and his high consumes him. 

“Love you so much, want you to cum for me again,” he breathes out before he captures your lips in another kiss. Your kisses are much less romantic than before, having devolved into a mess of tongue and teeth, moans and whines being devoured in the shared breath between you. “You’ll cum for me again, right pretty? Want you to so bad, please, want it,” Changbin all but begs, and fuck, does that do something to you. 

He starts to separate his hand from yours with the intent to give more attention to your clit, but you squeeze it firmly, not wanting to let him away from you. Instead, you let your opposite hand sink down to give yourself the stimulation you need, making Changbin groan as his eyes follow your movements. There was something about the way you needed more but weren’t willing to let go of his hand for it that made his heart, and cock, swell. 

He stutters out all the praises he can, telling you how good you are, how beautiful, how soft and warm and perfect. “Kiss, please, want a kiss,” you whine out as your high looms closer, and he obliges in an instant, greedily swallowing the loud salacious moans coming from you.

Your entire body tenses, like a pulled string on the verge of snapping, and Changbin’s hips stutter in response, sloppily chasing his orgasm with you. Is it supposed to be this euphoric? To be all encompassing, to consume you completely until there was nothing left but this feeling?

The love and pleasure you feel is overwhelming, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel the taut string finally snap. You squeeze his hand once more, grounding yourself as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. Changbin follows you almost instantly, fucking you through your shared highs and whining into your mouth until overstimulation takes hold of him. 

His arm unhooks your leg, letting it fall limp to the bed as he lies on top of you, breathless and spent. Despite the exhaustion slowly creeping in, he does his best not to let his body weight crush you underneath him. You’re equally as breathless, mind and body buzzing in a post orgasm haze. 

His head rests against your shoulder, eyes closing as he collects himself. Your arms wrap around him, keeping him in a close embrace that Changbin finds both endearing and soothing. A content sigh escapes him as he listens to your breathing soften, a gentle calm that beckons him to fall asleep.

But despite how his body screams at him for rest, he wants to take care of you first. So he lifts his head, giving you a small kiss as he lets his softening length slip out of you. “Let’s clean you up,” Changbin says as he wraps his arms around you, picking you up from the bed effortlessly.

You can't help but squeak in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck for support as he walks to the bathroom. You always thought you weighed too much to be princess carried by anyone, but if anyone was going to prove you wrong, it would be Changbin.

He sets you down on the counter carefully before he reaches behind you to wet a cloth. He wipes between your legs carefully, making sure there is no discomfort or sting as he does. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he says softly as his hand travels over the nail indentations left behind on your thigh.

“I didn’t even feel it,” you admit as your eyes follow the path his hand travels. You were so lost in everything else Changbin was making you feel that the usual tinge of pain you’d feel from nails digging in your skin didn’t even register.

Besides that, part of you had to admit that you kind of liked it; it was proof of your time together, and having his mark etched on your skin was both comforting and exciting. You look up at his face to still see a subtle expression of concern, so you reach your hand out to his face, beckoning him to look at you.

“You can mark me more if you’d like. I want to be reminded of where you touched me.” Changbin blinks for a moment, dick unceremoniously twitching before a smile spreads across his features. “Yeah? Want everyone to know you’re mine?”

You nod with a smile of your own, and God, if his body wasn’t screaming at him to sleep he’d make you fall apart under him again, right here and now. “I’ll make sure I mark you up good next time then, love.” He takes a step back, tossing the soiled wash rag into the laundry bin and letting you use the bathroom as he washes his hands. 

When you’re done, he scoops you back up in his arms, a small protest leaving your lips. You insisted that you were fine, could walk on your own, but the slightest wobble of your legs was all Changbin needed to see to decide you needed to be escorted back to bed. He sets you down carefully before crawling in next to you, his arms wasting no time to wrap around you and keep you close. 

You sigh softly, head burrowing into the crook of his neck as you relax in his embrace. It’s a serenity you’ve never experienced before, being in his arms like this after sharing such an intimate moment together. For the first time in years, you had someone that made you feel safe, loved, and protected.

It doesn’t take long for Changbin to fall asleep, and you watch him for a few moments, listening to the soft sound of his measured breathing. You don't know what you'll do in the future, what will happen when you have to make a confession to your brother about what Changbin means to you, but there is one thing you do know– Changbin will never be the person you turn away from. 

To say Changbin is exhausted when he returns to work on Monday would be an understatement. But it was a good kind of exhausted; the kind you’d feel after completing a marathon or climbing a mountain, he imagines.

He’s never been so happy to be tired in his entire life, he thinks. Even as the caffeine from his copious amounts of coffee leaves his system, his joy carries him through the work day. 

The Saturday night he spent with you after having dinner with Hyunjin made him elated beyond words. The closeness and sensuality of your evening was something he’d be craving for so long. He missed the feeling of mutual love, of intimacy and closeness with someone else. And you were so perfect, so lovely and stunning in both mind and body, that he felt lucky to be loved by you. 

He took you once more the following Sunday, whispering sweet nothings to you as his hands touched and squeezed any part of your body they could reach. You showered together, spent the afternoon cuddling on the sofa while watching movies until he ordered dinner. He (begrudgingly) let you leave back to your apartment as the sun began to sink further in the horizon, though he made you promise you’d be back later in the week. 

When he went to bed a little while later, all he could think about was how it felt having you next to him, wrapped in his arms with a loving and serene expression. He missed you, of course he missed you, and somehow it made a smile stretch across his face.

How long had it been since he felt like this? Giddy with love, always thinking about the other person, craving their presence for just a few moments longer, until eventually you can’t imagine your life without them always near you.��

Changbin wanted that with you, wanted a future where you are always with him. To wake up to you next to him every morning and cuddle in bed with you every night. He thought about taking you on surprise dates, spoiling you with delicious meals and nights out in the city. He imagined you waiting at home for him after a draining work day, and how your presence would allow it to all melt away.

You’d plant soothing kisses against his skin as you help him into the warm bath, letting him unwind while you took care of him. You’d take dote on him sweetly, tell him how much you love him, and he’d do the same for you without question. Anything you wanted, anything you needed that he could offer, he would give to you. Because he loves you, and you love him, and that’s all he needs to be happy. 

And it didn’t take long for that inward joy to spread to his outside features; Changbin is a bit of an open book when it comes to love and affection after all. Jeongin had texted you that same morning, asking what on earth you did to make Changbin appear so elated, and it made you giggle as you imagined how his coworkers must’ve felt seeing their normally stoic and serious chief being so delighted that he just couldn’t hide it. 

It was no secret to Jeongin that whatever you were doing with Changbin was real on your end. He’s watched you suffer through enough pretending and agony to know what genuine happiness looks like on your features.

On the days you come to pick up Jeongin to spend time with after work, your face always lights up when Changbin waves to you. The small giggle you let out when Changbin checks around himself to make sure no one is looking before he blows you a kiss is one Jeongin has rarely ever heard. 

The both of you are so obviously in love that Jeongin would almost be sick if he wasn’t so relieved to see you smiling like that again. As far as he remembers, the last time he saw such a genuine and bashful smile on you was when you were still kids, untainted by the ugliness of the world and its harsh realities.

He was aware of the tumultuous life you led, and the mental toll it took on you; so to see you happier these days was priceless to him. But he also knew what you led you here, what you would eventually have to do, and that made him scared for you. He didn't want to see you lose the happiness you attained after so long. 

“When are you going to talk to Chan-hyung?” Jeongin asks during one of his visits to your apartment, weeks later. You freeze, and he almost feels bad for asking as he watches the way your expression changes into one of dread. But it's not something he can avoid asking; he needs to hear your answer.

He needs to know if you have a plan, and what it entails; he wants to help you. "I.. don't know," you answer honestly after a moment. You spent a lot of time agonizing over it, what you should do and what you should say, but nothing ever seemed right. 

The outcome you hoped for, where your brother didn't hate you and your life with Changbin is untainted and perfect, seemed so impossible. You forget for a while, when Changbin sweetly holds you in his arms and reminds you how much he loves you, but the dread always returns.

You sit in your apartment, alone and afraid for the future every single day. You don't want to lose what you have, don't want to feel the absence of those you love, but maybe that's what is meant for you. Maybe that's what you deserve after spending your adulthood the way you have.

Do the people who lie and hurt others willingly deserve happiness? Even though it's never what you wanted, even though you felt like you had no choice, did it taint you irrevocably? Did the universe care that you were trying to change your life, did your apologies even matter? Maybe your mistakes doomed you to a miserable fate long before you could even understand the implications of them. 

"I'd help you, you know," Jeongin reminds you, and you try your best to thank him with a smile. Chan may be a brother to him, but you're his sister just as much, and he'd always help you if he could. He didn't want you to sacrifice your happiness for the sake of someone else; you deserved to have something good after all this time.

You usually try to hide your feelings, not wanting to burden the boy you consider your little brother with your troubles. But you're not kids anymore, and Jeongin isn't blind– he can easily tell when you're distressed, and he can help you if you let him. At least, that's how he feels. 

"I know Innie, and I appreciate it, I just.. I'm scared, I guess," you say after some time. "Chan-hyung won't hate you. He might be upset, but he won't ever hate you," he responds, and you let out a shaky breath. He won't, right? You're his sister, he loves you, he's supported you before in your choices– so it won't change now, right? 

"I don't know what to say to him.. Every time I try to find the words, I feel like I'm stuck. Like everything is lodged in my throat and I can't speak no matter how much I want to," your lip quivers as you try to hold back the tears while you speak.

You've thought about this so many times, over and over again, and it hurts. And you don't want to cry, you do enough of that on your own in the privacy of your bedroom, but the tears still threaten to pour out of you despite it. 

"You don't have to admit you love Changbin necessarily..? Just remind him you left for a reason, and that coming back to it has been bad for you. Tell him that you tried your best for him but you can't do it anymore. I think he'll understand." You swallow and nod as you listen to his advice. "And you know I support you, right? And I like Changbin, I think he's an amazing guy. I want you to stay with him." 

"Really? You do? You're not mad at him over.. you know, family stuff?" you ask, suddenly perking up a bit. "Yeah, well, I.." Jeongin hesitates for a moment. He has his own feelings he's been trying to work out, but if you're going to share with him then he should share with you too. If you're going to be brave and face what is hard for you, then so should he.

"I have my doubts about.. staying in the family lately." He finally admits for the first time. He still remembers the day he was officially initiated in, how you congratulated him earnestly even though you were concerned for him. 

Before that day, you always told him he had a choice. He didn't have to join you, he didn't have to be involved in any of the terrible things that this life often entails. Jeongin could always tell you cared about him and wanted him safe above all else, but you still accepted his decision even when it saddened you.

You only ever looked out for him, wanted better for him, but he joined anyway because he thought it was the best way to stay with the people he loved most. You and Chan were real family in his eyes; he didn't care about blood relation or who his parents were, he just wanted to go hand in hand with his siblings. Wherever the two of you went, he would follow– that's what he decided back then. 

But he saw what it did to you. You always wore a brave face of course, but he wasn't oblivious to your pain. And he met good people over the years, especially in his new environment on the force with Changbin. Similarly to you, he met people he didn't want to hurt or betray. It made him question what he knew and what he felt until now, and if he had really made the right decision those years ago when he turned 18.

Maybe it was naive, but there was a part of him that hoped he could one day become a genuine member of the police. His current credentials were falsified of course, but maybe when he left the family he could make them real. Move out of the city, settle somewhere small and attend the academy there, rise his way up earnestly until one day he could meet the friends he made in Seoul as a true version of himself. 

He never seriously considered it before now because he felt like that's not what his father wanted for him. His father was unyieldingly loyal to your own, he always emphasized the importance of dedicating his all to the prosperity of the family. Jeongin always felt like he should follow that example, and for the majority of his life he was glad to.

But as time went on, and he got older and more experienced in life, he realized more and more how his view of things were warped. The teenage version of himself who idolized this life was understandably naive– there was no way for him to truly grasp or understand what he was getting into back then.

There was a part of Jeongin that felt guilty whenever he thought about leaving. Until his death, his father raised him to uphold the values of the mafia, and he trusted that Jeongin would make him proud. He's changed a lot over the years though, and for a lot of different reasons.

The difficult reality was part of it, but so were you and Changbin. Even before you met the police chief, your life was already improved so much by leaving. You loved your new life, your apartment. your job, and your friends. Your new normal was peaceful, you were healing, and Jeongin was so happy for you. 

He didn't realize he wanted the same thing right away. It happened in steps; a hard loss here, an exhausting day there, moments that slowly began to leave him weary. At first he thought it was just the exhaustion anyone would feel– after all, no one enjoys being stressed out or hurting others.

It was normal to want a break, or to spend some time away. There was nothing unusual about that, so he took it in stride, trusting that it would pass once things began to look up (if they ever did.) 

But things changed when he saw your vibrant smile that was so different from the forced one you used to wear, saw the way your eyes sparkled and your voice lifted whenever you saw or talked with Changbin. He watched the real you, the one he knew as a kid that was so bubbly and full of life, return– and that's when he knew he wanted the same thing. A peaceful, happy life. 

"I took more after you than Chan-hyung, I guess," Jeongin jokes to make it more lighthearted. He's pleasantly surprised to see it worked, a genuine smile finally cracking on your face. "We're real winners of loyal younger siblings, huh?" you chuckle. It's probably not appropriate to laugh but well.. What else can you do, really?

"You should leave, if you really want to. It took a long time for me to realize it, but there's nothing wrong with wanting better for yourself, and wanting to be happier," you say and Jeongin easily agrees with a smile. "Exactly! Which is why I hope you'll talk to him soon. Get yourself out, and live a happy life with Changbin. You deserve it."

"Well, what about you? What will you do?" you ask and Jeongin pauses while he thinks about it. "I'm not sure.. I mean, I'm sure I want to leave, I just don't know when I should. He's my brother and I love him. I don't want him to be upset by us both leaving at the same time.. Maybe I'll bring it up after some time passes?"

It certainly wasn't a bad idea. It'd be good for your brother to heal a bit, and not suffer too much loss at once. "Just make sure you take care of yourself too, okay? Don't push down your needs to make someone else happy," you remind him.

"Of course," he assures you with a smile. "Maybe I can talk to Felix-hyung too. He helped you when you were struggling with this, so I'm sure he'll help me too." 

"You should!" you enthusiastically agree. And that might not be a bad idea for you right now too. Felix has always been nothing but kind and supportive, and he offers such good advice. You've always trusted him deeply, and he's honest without being harsh, which is something you really value in him. "I think I will too. It might help me feel better about my talk with Chan if I talk to Felix about it first." 

Content with your discussion and your future plans, the rest of Jeongin's visit to your apartment is lighthearted. And honestly, you feel a weight lifted off your chest knowing Jeongin is on your side. He's always understood you, but you still had this irrational fear that this time would be the exception.

You were worried that maybe he hated Changbin for his role in the arrest of Minho, and when he realized your feelings for him, that he would turn his back on you. And you still have that fear when it comes to other members of the family, but you feel much more reassured now.

It's encouraging to know that you won't be alone in this, and that you'll have support from someone who loves you. You can only hope that all your future talks will go as well as they have today. 

It's another few weeks later when Felix finally has a free moment to stop by your apartment for a talk. You told him after the night Jeongin visited, mostly in vague terms, that you wanted to talk about Changbin and your job, and Felix promised to come as soon as he was able.

He assumed that you were dealing with something serious, and were seeking help vaguely because that's what you typically needed to do. You often dealt with dangerous men, or sensitive information, and going in full detail over text wasn't the wisest decision.

Particularly because if anyone got arrested, texts are among the first things looked at to find evidence. It was important in this line of work to keep your secrets and information close, and only talk about them aloud in a private space. 

He's looking around your apartment attentively after he steps through the door. He knew where you lived, as did Chan, but this was his first time actually being here. Felix and your brother were respectful of the space you needed when you initially left, giving you your distance and never intruding in your space. They drove by on occasion, looking around the area and making sure you were safe when you first moved in, but never anything more than that. 

"It's a nice place," he comments idly, hoping a bit of small talk will ease you into the conversation you want to have. Felix knew from personal experience that you have a hard time having serious conversations due to your anxiety, so he likes to try to ease the tension any way he can. 

Truthfully, you are nervous, but you feel almost equally assured. You have no reason to doubt that Felix will understand and help you as he always has. You move to sit on the sofa, and Felix follows, sitting in a chair across from you. "I've decided I want to tell Chan I'm done with this job. I'm sorry to him and Minho, but I don't want to do it anymore." 

Felix can tell you've changed a lot from the person you once were from the way you speak. You sound confident in your choice, and it was only a year ago that wanting to make a decision like this would leave you an anxious mess.

He could remember the way your voice trembled then, and how you needed to be told your feelings were valid. You sought out his advice, spent a long time going back and forth as you agonized over your sense of responsibility and wanting to live your own life. He can't sense any of that now though; you've clearly grown a lot, and you don't need his assurance anymore. 

"It seems like you've thought about this a lot already," Felix says, though he isn't surprised. You never wanted to be brought back to do this kind of work in the first place, so as it became clear that getting information out of Changbin would be difficult, Felix knew this would be the inevitable outcome. After all, what's the point of staying in a fake relationship if it's not necessary?

It's better to get out early, than stick it out for longer than needed and deal with the complications that would come with "breaking up" after a prolonged time together. And besides that, he was sure it must be hard for you to keep trying when this was something you wanted to leave behind; none of it was a surprise to him in the slightest.

"I'm not sure what Chan will do after you leave Changbin since this was his last idea though.. Not that it will be your concern, of course! Just do what you have to, and don't worry about what we will do next," Felix continues. 

"I'm not leaving Changbin," you interject, and Felix pauses, his brows furrowing in confusion. "But you said you were done? What are you..?" his voice trails off as the realization sets in. But that can't be true, surely you're not.. right?

"Noona, do you.. love him?" "Yes," you answer easily; so easily that Felix almost can't process it. You said it so assuredly, like there was no need for you to think about it. "I love him, and I'm not leaving him." 

Felix has known you for many years now, seen you through your best and worst moments, nearly all your ups and downs. But this is a first for him; you sound so sure. He's seen you suffer through countless fake relationships, or extremely toxic real ones, so he's never seen you have such a determination to be with someone. 

"Noona, I support you, you know I do, but.." Felix trails off, his expression one of deep concern. There's nothing he wants more than for you to live the serene life you aspire towards, with someone who makes you happy and cares for you. He never wanted you to be dragged back into this to begin with, having expressed to Chan more than once his doubts and concerns.

But Chan was– no, is, desperate for something to come of your help. And Felix is prepared to deal with what Chan might feel from you quitting without obtaining anything, to help him create a new plan, but he's worried about what this revelation will do to your brother on a personal level. 

Chan is a good man but there are times that Felix is concerned for him following a dark path he can't come back from. He's not sure whether it's the suspected betrayal, the loss of his second in command, or the years of piled on hardship as leader that has led to Chan changing recently, but he doesn't have the same tenderness he once had.

Felix does his best to lessen the burden, to ease his worries and take the place of Minho in all the ways that he can, but the strain is still there, and it only grows more as time continues to pass. But he recognizes how selfish it is to not want you to do something purely because it will mean he has to deal with something difficult.

How many years have you been selfless for their sake? How many times did you set your feelings aside for the sake of someone else? How many times did you willingly keep yourself in harm's way just to give Chan what he wanted or needed? Would it be right or fair for them to ask you to give up this happiness you've finally obtained just to further their own agenda?

Felix knew the answer to that is easily no. You should be allowed to have your happiness after all this time, to love who you want without worry and not be dragged back in the moment someone else deems it a necessary sacrifice for some "greater purpose." 

But none of that is up to him, and he's fearful that your brother's mental state will cloud his judgment. Pain changes a person, oftentimes irrevocably. It can make the choices you'd otherwise never consider seem like the only path forward, and he fears that he can't stop Chan from continuing down the dark road he’s walking on. 

"I know that Chan won't be happy. There might even be a chance he never forgives me for this, but I'm willing to accept that. I need to live my life how I want it to be lived. I'm done accommodating for everyone but myself. I hope he will understand, but even if he doesn't this is the decision I've made. And I hope you will support me too," you say, resolve clear in your voice.

Felix still remembers the you of over a year ago vividly, who was so scared to make a decision for herself that it agonized her to try. It's amazing, truly, how much you seem to have changed since that day. You're here, standing on your own two feet, fighting for what you want unapologetically. 

"I'm with you, without a doubt. I've always wanted you to be happy, and I'll talk to Chan too if I need to," Felix responds, offering you a reassuring smile as he does. "That means a lot to me Lixie, thank you." He then offers you a hug, which you gladly accept.

It pains you to think that your brother might not understand your feelings, but you realize more and more how much support you have. You don't have to go through this on your own; you have your friends and your found family by your side through everything. No matter the outcome of your talk with Chan, you feel like you'll be able to walk away with your head held the highest it's ever been. 

The rest of your afternoon following your conversation with Felix was spent with you planning your approach with Chan. What you should say and how you should say it, how to go about asking him to put any feelings of distaste for Changbin aside.

You'll request him to only talk to you as a brother catching up with and caring for his sister from that moment on, and never again for the purpose of a job or about his mafia life and dealings. It used to be extremely difficult for you to put together what you wanted to say, but talking with Jeongin and Felix has helped greatly.

And there's a stress that comes with planning all this out, but at the same time there's a solace. Putting yourself first has never been something that came easy to you, but underneath the bittersweet emotions is an immense pride for yourself. You hope more than anything that things will go well for you, but you can take pride in the fact that you did all you could for yourself if it doesn't. 

A text from Changbin pulls you from your thoughts, and you smile upon seeing that he's home and asking if you still want to come over for the weekend (which you obviously do.) You confirm your plans, telling him to go ahead and eat because you already had dinner yourself, and that you'd be on your way soon.

It doesn't take you long to get your things together and in a bag, as you basically have it down to a science given how often you do it. You let him know you're on your way as soon as you're done putting your things in the car, smiling softly to yourself as you make the modest drive to his house.

Changbin pulls you in his arms the moment he opens his door for you, making you squeak in surprise before you settle into his touch. "Are you okay Binnie?" you ask as you wrap your own arms around him. His hug is tight, urgent, in a way it never has been before.

"Hard day," he mumbles into your hair, keeping you wrapped in a tight embrace. You let him stay like that for a few moments, figuring he needs it, before you pull away to look at him.

"Why don't you let me put my things down, and then we can talk about it if you want, okay?" He nods as he lets you go, and you quickly move to set your things down in his room. 

He follows you over, waiting patiently for you to join him after he flops down onto his bed. He falls practically limp in your arms after you settle, head resting on your chest as you run a hand up and down his back. "What's bothering you?" you ask softly, listening attentively as he lets out an exhale before starting.

"This case, it's just.. difficult. I've been working on it for so long, but it always feels like we don't get anywhere with it. Like for every step forward, we go another two back. I don't know what else I should do, I feel like I've tried everything." 

You run your fingers through his hair gently as he pours his feelings out to you, offering kind reassurances and reminding him of your support. He's always been open about his feelings to some degree, but it was like you unlocked another part of his heart since the day the two of you confessed your love for each other.

Due to what he'd been through before, there was still a part of him that was scared to share too much about work, positive or otherwise. Even when he was assured that you were the one for him, that he wanted to share the entirety of the rest of his life with you, it wasn't easy to break the shackles that were holding him back. But since that day, slowly but surely he's been able to heal even more. 

Changbin always makes sure he does his best to keep a proper balance, to make time for the two of you to spend together and take necessary breaks to unwind and recharge, but it feels good to know he doesn't have to keep silent about a big part of his life anymore.

He trusts you, he believes in your words and your care, and he knows that you're understanding and supportive of his ambitions. He loves that he can come home after a day at the station and share his thoughts with you.

You celebrate with him on the good days and treat him gently on the bad. You never make him feel like he needs to lock his life away, and in turn he makes sure you never feel forgotten or unloved. His career is important to him, and always will be, but so are you, and he'll make sure you never question that. 

He looks up at you as you continue to hold and caress him, feeling a rush of emotion wash over him. He loves you so much. He's thought it a million times, but he never stops feeling lucky to have you. You never judge him, think he's too clingy or too silly, never make him feel shunned or like he needs to hide away.

You accept him for all that he is, unconditionally. After the devastation he felt in the past, Changbin began to feel like he'd never find the kind of love he hoped for. That maybe it was only destined for those that God favored, and somewhere along the way he made a mistake that debarred him of that chance at happiness. 

But then he met you, and it was like everything fell into place. So sweet and beautiful, so accepting and with so much love to give. Your smile easily eclipsed the other beauties of the world in his eyes. No scenic nature view or star-filled sky would ever compare, not in a million years. Would it be cliche to compare you to an angel?

That's truly what you were to him though– an angel that saved him from the depths of his loneliness. An angel that helped him heal the wounds he couldn't care for alone. An angel that allowed him to trust unconditionally again. He trusted you from the bottom of his heart, loved you from the deepest recesses of his soul. 

It doesn't take long for you to notice the way Changbin is staring at you, his eyes reflecting a love that words couldn't hope to describe. He looks at you like you hold the entire world in your hands, like you're the sun and he's a planet destined to forever be in your orbit, like he'd pluck the stars out of they sky for you if they were only in his reach.

No matter how many times you see it, the look he holds never fails to make your heart race. He leans forward suddenly, capturing your lips in a kiss that is simultaneously romantic as it is incredibly needy. There's so much passion behind it that it leaves you breathless in a matter of seconds. 

It's almost relentless how much he kisses you, leaving you only the briefest of moments to catch a breath before he's back on you. His hands feel equally as desperate in their touch, squeezing and caressing every inch of you as they roam the expanse of your body. "Binnie..?" you let you when he finally parts long enough for you to catch your breath effectively.

"Just love you so much," he responds as he begins to kiss his way down your neck, "want to show you." Your stomach flips at his words, and part of you wants to let him, but instead you reach your hand down to his face, urging him to look back up at you. "You had a hard day, let me take care of you instead." 

Changbin blinks for a moment as the words process, a slight flush settling over him as it settles in him. He wasn't expecting it, but he's certainly not against it. He easily allows your positions to swap, with Changbin propped up against the pillows and you straddling him.

He is usually the one taking the lead in your intimate moments, but he also loves times like this, where you are on top of him showering him with affection. You kiss him with the same fervor he had towards you, the only difference being the addition of your tongue. 

He lets out a soft groan of approval when your tongue first enters his mouth, indulging in the feeling of your hands and tongue exploring him. You reach for the hem of his shirt, urging him to help you remove it from his body. He immediately reaches for yours as well, tugging it off you in a rush he normally doesn't have, but that you don't mind in the slightest.

Changbin is always eager to touch you, but he feels almost carnal in his craving for you now. He wouldn't say he ever gets enough of you in the first place, but it feels amplified now; like no touch will be anywhere near enough to momentarily satiate him. 

All he knows, all he has, is want. A want that is fueled by love above all else, almost saccharine in nature. He craves you this badly because he loves you, it's as simple as that. As long as you are against him, touching his skin and hearing your voice in his ears, he'll be the happiest he's ever been.

You kiss every inch of him as you make your way down his body, every curve and every dip, not with the intent to tease but to show how much you love and care for him. Changbin can't help but giggle when you kiss his soft stomach, nose scrunching in the adorable way you love so much.

He watches you with bated breath and eager eyes as you continue lower and reach the waistband of his pants. You don't waste any time pulling them down in one go, along with his underwear, and letting his cock free of its confines.

You recognize the look in his eyes, the near desperation, and you know how bad he needs you, so you won't make him wait. He always took such good care of you, being attentive to every want and fulfilling every need, so you'll do the same for him gladly. 

You spend a few moments planting kisses on the sensitive flesh of his thighs, watching as his cock twitches in response. Changbin's eyes are locked on you, hands tightening their grip on the bed sheets as he awaits what he wants most. No matter how intense the fire in him blazes, he'll be as patient as you need him to be, wait as long as you want him to.

If this were another day, you'd spend more time appreciating his body and watch his resolve to hold out crack under each added kiss and touch, but you don't want to deny him what he's craving any longer than you already have.

He swallows when he sees your tongue stick out, licking up the pre-cum that has dribbled down his length before you wrap your lips around him. Changbin lets out a breathy moan as you sink lower on him, mouth open wide to accommodate his thickness.

He reaches his hands out to you, one tangling into your hair while the other searches for your hand. You bring your hand to him, letting him intertwine his fingers with yours. He's always loved the intimacy of your hands being locked together; it gives him an unmatched feeling of tenderness and love, a constant reminder of your warm presence. 

Your pace is slow at first, allowing your jaw to relax before you attempt to take him completely in your mouth. It takes all your power to suppress your gag reflex when his cock first hits the back of your throat, but the loud groan he lets out when you swallow around him encourages you to keep doing your best for him. 

He curses when your pace quickens, tongue caressing the underside of cock as your head bobs up and down. The strain on your jaw becomes painful, and your eyes are watering from all the effort, but you're determined to give him your all.

His hold tightens, causing a slight sting to your scalp, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. Everytime your normally gentle lover becomes so lost in the pleasure that he can't help himself but to hold you roughly, it ignites a fire in your belly. 

You can tell he's getting close from the way his breath quickens and cock twitches against your tongue. "Fuck, God, fuck-" he groans as his head falls back. He squeezes your hand in an attempt to ground himself, and it takes all his self control not to thrust into your mouth.

You decide to double your efforts, taking him fast and swallowing over, over, and over again. Saliva drips from your lips, creating a messy puddle in his lap and salacious, wet sounds to ring in Changbin's ears. "Gonna cum, fuck, so good, 'm gonna cum," he pants out his warning, body hot and chest heaving. 

His cum shoots down your throat in bursts that nearly makes you choke. Your tongue coaxes him through his orgasm as you swallow every drop of his release. You don't separate until you're sure he's finished, mouth releasing him with a small pop. 

You look up at him, your beautiful and perfect boyfriend in his post orgasm haze, feeling yourself clench at the sight. No matter how many times you see Changbin breathless and flushed with sweat lingering on his brow, it never fails to make your stomach do cartwheels.

You crawl up his body, moving in to slot your lips against his. Changbin lets out a sound of approval, wrapping his arms around you tightly and pulling your body flush against his. "Love you so much," he mumbles against your lips between kisses. One arm keeps you close while he lets the other move, hand snaking its way between your thighs to feel your drenched heat. 

"Baby.. all this just from helping me feel good?" he smiles as he asks, looking at you with sparkling eyes. He could never hope to hide how excited and elated he gets from the feeling of you being soaked for him. 

"Always Binnie, love making you feel good," you say with a soft smile before you capture him in another kiss. You know very well what he wants to do next– he's going to ask if he can make you feel good too. And with Changbin, that means pouring all his love and care into you, until you are weak in the knees and too exhausted to move an inch.

But you can't let him do that tonight; you have other plans in mind. "Wanna do more for you Binnie," you say between breaths, "wanna ride your cock."

"Fuck, please, it's all yours," he groans in response, your words having an instant effect on his body. You stand to remove the rest of your clothes, and Changbin doesn't take his eyes away for even a second. He takes his cock in his hand, stroking it back to full stiffness as he watches you undress– it's hard not to writhe and whine from how sensitive he is now, but it'll be more than worth it.

You shoot him a smile as you crawl back onto his lap, one that he reciprocates easily while the eager glint in his eye grows ever stronger. He separates his hand from his cock, allowing your own hand to take its place and align it with your entrance. 

There's a sharp gasp from you as you start to lower yourself on his cock, the lack of preparation instantly causing tears to prick the corners of your eyes. You'd hoped being completely soaked would be enough to ease the process of Changbin entering you, but you should've known it wouldn't be enough to make it painless. 

"You're so good baby, doing so well, keep going love, you can do it, I've got you," he can't help but praise and encourage you despite the fact that the focus is supposed to be on him. He knows the stretch can be a lot for you even with prep, so watching you do your best to take him without it makes him want to shower you with all the praise he has to offer. 

Each inch taken as you sink down causes another whimper from you and a low moan from Changbin. You're clenching so tight it'd be enough to send him into delirium if he wasn't so focused on making sure you're okay.

"Good baby, you're so good," he tells you when you are finally sat completely down on him, your hips flush with his own. He places soft kisses to your skin, letting you adjust and steady your breathing. He runs his hands up and down your plush thighs, giving gentle squeezes while admiring the way you look.

You're always so pretty when you're flushed and breathless like this, always feel so good in his hands and sound so sweet. He's addicted to you he's well aware, but how could he not be? Soft and sexy you, every curve and bend perfect, an Aphrodite all his own. 

"Take your time, there's no rush love," Changbin plants comforting kisses against your face and neck as he speaks. You can feel him throbbing and twitching inside you, silently pleading for friction, but he encourages you to take your time despite it.

Slowly but surely however, the stinging subsides and you can feel the tension in your body begin to recede. Your first grind is slow and experimental, but it still causes a sudden sharp inhale to leave Changbin. Your hands grip his broad shoulders tightly, using them for stability as you try to find what the both of you will like the best. 

A string of expletives leave his lips when you find what you like and begin to move in earnest. You've just started but it already feels so impossibly good, he can't manage to stay quiet even if he wanted to (and besides that, he knows you prefer him vocal.)

Changbin pushes your hair out of your face, wanting to see your expressions with no obstruction. He watches you, mesmerized and full of adoration. Everything, from the roll of your hips to the bounce of your breasts and the lustful glaze over your eyes, he commits it all to his memory. He never wants to forget how devotedly you took care of him, and how breathtakingly beautiful you looked doing it.

You move to hold his face in your hands, kissing him with messy fervor as you bounce on his cock with more urgency, fueled by your desire to make him cum again. He holds your hips, helping you keep your rhythm steady while he squeezes the meat of it.

He can't help the way his eyes roll back, the way your walls clench tightly around him with your tongue in his mouth making him feel almost lightheaded. Each noise emitted from one of you is swallowed by the other, desperate moans and whines muffled and drowned out by the sound of your skin slapping against his. 

You eventually pull away, chest heaving as you finally allow more air to pass through your lungs. Your thighs burn with exertion, pace faltering as your legs begin to go weak, but you refuse to relent. Changbin can see the exhaustion settling over you though, and while he appreciates your determination to push through it, he's more than happy to take over for you. 

"Hold onto me baby, gonna help you," Changbin says, and you comply quickly, once again holding onto his shoulders for support. He takes complete control, using the strength in his arms to bounce you on his cock while he thrusts up into you.

You gasp and moan loudly, stars bursting in your vision. You can barely form a coherent thought with the way he's pistoning into your sweet spot from below, the angle and speed making you dizzy with pleasure. "B-Binnie, please-" you whine loudly, nails digging into his shoulders as your head slumps forward, "feels so good, so good, wanna cum, please- "

"Cum on my cock pretty, you can do that for me, can't you? Wanna make your Binnie happy and cum all over him?" His words send electricity through you, jolting you with a force you've never felt before now.

You cum with a loud cry, eyes rolling back as you shake and quiver on top of him. You're gasping and crying through your high, his quick and precise thrusts dragging it on for what feels like an eternity. "Good girl, that's a good girl," he praises you through it, pace only slowing for the smallest of moments as he speaks to you. 

"Don't let go baby, gonna flip you over now,” He warns, and you're on your back in a second, Changbin wasting no time to slip back inside your warmth and continue his fast pace. You're breathless, body on fire, and impossibly overstimulated, but it feels so good. You claw at him desperately as he pounds into you, the insurmountable pleasure building back up just as fast as it faded. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, trying in vain to contain the myriad of noises erupting from you. Changbin's hips begin to stutter, his moans quickly turning into breathy whines in your ear. You let out a shuddering moan when his fingers find your clit, moving in desperate circles to get you to cum with him.

"One more love, give me one more, cum with me," Changbin's pleading tone accompanying all else that you are feeling sends you down a spiral; your body jolts and tenses, your orgasm washing over you in fervent waves.

The way you look writhing and squirming underneath him, lewd noises uncontrollably tumbling from your lips while you squeeze tightly around him sends him careening into his own peak. You reach for the nape of his neck, pulling him in closer for another messy kiss as you both ride the tail end of your combined highs together.

Changbin collapses next to you shortly after, both of you doing your best to steady your breathing and calm your pounding hearts. You turn your head after a moment to look at him, and see his gaze already turned to you. His look is one of pure, unadulterated love and joy, entirely for you.

You always flush red when he looks at you like that, and he laughs softly when you shyly turn away. You could look him in the eyes no problem when his dick was down your throat and when he was fucking you into oblivion, but now you're like this over a little affectionate look? Embarrassing. But he loves that about you, and he never stops finding it cute and endearing. 

"Come here, honey," Changbin says as he pulls you to him. He smiles at you, a smile that is as warm as it is bright, as he wraps you in his arms. "Thank you for tonight baby, you make me feel so much better, my sweet girl," he beams as he praises you.

Part of you feels like you should be used to it by now, but you don't think you ever will be. "I love you Binnie, you don't have to thank me for anything," you reply, a bit more timidly than you'd prefer. He shakes his head, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead before he continues speaking. "Of course I have to thank you! How else will you know how much I appreciate you?" 

It's your turn to smile at him this time, an adoring twinkle painting your expression. He always warms you with his words, his sweetness unparalleled by any confection. You settle into his touch, resting your head against the crook of his neck and shoulder, nuzzling in close. You stay like that for a few moments, just wrapped in each other's comforting embrace, before you hear Changbin let out a small exhale. "Y/N.. there's something I want to ask you."

"Is something still bothering you?" you ask as you glance up at him. There's a slight flush to his cheeks, paired with a nervous expression. He shakes his head quickly, taking a small moment to gather himself before he continues.

"We are together most days, you know.. And whenever you're gone all I can think about is how much I miss you being next to me. And I always think about what it'll be like to come home from work and have you already here, greeting me every night with that cute smile of yours I love so much, and–"

Changbin realizes he's rambling and getting ahead of himself, so he cuts himself off, swallowing pensively as he tries to calm his nerves. "A-Anyways, maybe it's too soon and you don't want to yet, but what I'm asking is.. Do you want to move in with me?" 

There's a silence that shortly follows, simply because you can't believe he's even asking. "Y-You.. want me to live here? ..With you?" Changbin nods without hesitation, the certainty clear in his eyes, "Yes, I want you here with me. I always, always, want you here with me." 

You blink at him, your mind racing as his worlds settle in. He's always said sweet things to you, about how he misses you when you have to leave and how he can't wait to see you again every time you leave, but despite that, you're still astounded. "You don't have to say yes if you're not ready though! I won't hold it against you," he replies quickly, seemingly trying not to make you feel pressured to say yes if you're not sure about it.

But you love him so much, there's no doubt in your mind that you want to spend forever with him. Every moment, good or bad, you want to have Changbin at your side. You still need to talk to Chan, to make him understand that you're leaving your past behind you for good, but you feel nothing but optimism and hope.

If he doesn't understand your love for Changbin you'll make him understand, you'll put your all into making your dream life with Changbin a reality. And knowing how much he loves you, that he truly means it when he says he wants you with him every moment of every day is enough to fuel you through any hardship you might face. He'll always be here for you, with open arms and a cute, goofy smile to cheer you through anything. 

"I want to! Really, I want to," you give him a smile so bright it immediately melts all his worries away. He hugs you tightly, his happiness manifesting in a series of elated giggles. You share in the feeling, giggling along with him and kissing his cutely scrunched nose.

"I love you so much, Y/N," he says as he plants a series of kisses on your face. He meant it before when he said he'll always be there for you, that he'd never leave you, and now it's a promise that runs even deeper. Always with you, weathering any storm, hand in hand– that’s what he wants to have with you. 

"I love you too Binnie, so much," you giggle out between his kisses that are beginning to tickle. And that's how you spend your night, laying in each other's arms, excitedly talking and giggling about your future together, knowing that no past happiness could ever compare to the joy you feel now. 

The time that passes since the night that Changbin asked you to move into his house has felt like a blur of planning and sorting. Thankfully, there's not much to decide when it comes to what to do about your job; moving in with Changbin only adds an extra few minutes to your commute, which you don't mind making every day.

Having to wake up earlier in the mornings from now on was a sacrifice you were more than willing to make if it meant always seeing him when you woke up. So, in recent days, you spent most of your free time sorting your things.

You started small, combing every inch of your apartment for things you no longer wanted and putting them in a donation box to be given away. Next came packing things you wanted to keep, but wouldn't need in the immediate future, such as clothes that don't fit for the season and childhood memorabilia. 

The progress is a bit slower than you'd like given everyone's busy schedules, but you are still happy with the progress. You're happy to have help from Changbin or Jeongin when they're free, but you aren't upset when they can't make the time.

According to them, everyone has been dealing with an extra workload at the station lately, with some officers often needing to stay behind long past their usual hours to get things moving on an important (and stressful) case.

Changbin has told you about it before– a difficult, long running case that he hopes he can finally bring to a close. Apparently there has been a new breakthrough, but there's a high chance of their progress stagnating again if things don't proceed the way he wants it to.

As chief of police, he has a lot of responsibility to oversee the process and make sure every operation runs as smoothly as possible. It takes up a lot of his time these days, but you know how important it is for him to see an important case like this through, so you don't at all fault him at all. 

Jeongin, as a low ranking officer, doesn't have the same responsibilities as Changbin, but he still doesn't have much spare time due to the mafia family responsibilities he has after his time at the station.

Your brother has apparently been preparing for a large-scale operation that requires everyone to chip in as much as possible. According to Jeongin and Felix, Chan has been planning for months to raid the base of the enemy mafia he was supposed to make an alliance with, and everything he needed to conduct said raid is finally coming together.

They said there was no rat on their side of course, but Chan can't just take their words at face value. It's more important to him to obtain that truth with his own hands, and if necessary he'll make his amends later.

In his mind, it's better to be wrong and ask for forgiveness when the fire he set quells, rather than to play into whatever plans they may have to ruin him by being trusting and complacent. No one he has planted in key places has made progress on discovering who betrayed him or how he can get Minho out of prison, and it seems that this is his final gambit. 

There are a fair amount of people within the family who don't agree with the decision, as it's dangerous and will only invite even more hostility between the two families, while others revel in the anticipated chaos and can't wait to get their hands dirty.

Personally, you are among the people who don't agree with this course of action, but all you can really do is try to convince Chan to change his course of action before you leave– it's up to him whether he wants to listen or not. Though at this point, you're not sure if you'll be able to talk to him before it happens in the first place.

He initially thought up this plan months ago, but he recognized the risks and he did his best to explore the safer avenues first. He knew they would take longer, and that it could possibly leave him no further than when this began, but he wasn’t the type to needlessly put those he loves in danger.

But now that so much time has passed, and it’s become clearer to him that this raid will likely be his last chance to get what he wants, he needs to put his all into making sure it goes flawlessly. The final preparations are the most crucial of all, which hasn't left him with much time to spare to talk to you. 

You kept texting and calling, asking him when he'll have a spare moment so you can talk, but it often went unseen, sometimes for days at a time. "If you have information to deliver, give it to Felix and he'll get it back to me," he replied once, making it very clear that he wouldn't make time for anything that would distract him from his planning.

It saddened you more than anything, as you were hoping to have everything put behind you before you moved in with Changbin, but if Chan couldn't make time for you then there was nothing else you could do. 

You opted for texting him your resignation a few days ago, which you hated doing as you wanted to express it in person, but you didn't want to live with Changbin while having your "job" still being an expectation held over your head. His response was a clear cut, "I understand. I'm sorry I brought you back into it due to my own desperation, that was wrong of me. I hope you'll be happier from now on." 

You were worried at first that he was just saying those things to make you feel better and was actually upset with you, so Felix offered to ask him about it in your stead since he is around Chan for most of his days.

He asked about it between scheduled organization sessions, and relayed that Chan did genuinely seem to be okay with you leaving again, even if it meant you quitting the job. He had always felt bad for asking knowing that you wouldn’t enjoy it, but he did anyway because it was the last idea he had before having to resort to his more extreme options. 

He knew Changbin would be a tough target, and he knew there was a chance it wouldn’t work the way he’d hoped for, but it was the final barrier before making an extreme decision. And it’s unfortunate the near-miracle he was hoping for didn’t happen, but that’s what his other preparations were for. He was ready for this outcome, always, as he learned a long time ago that it pays to be prepared. 

And as things stand now, Chan had a lot of hope in his raid and the execution of his plans going well for him. So as more and more time passed, he always intended to both thank you and apologize sincerely, for once again doing something selfless for his sake, and that you would be free to leave whenever you’d want to. It was regrettable that he couldn’t give you his best wishes sooner, but he hoped you would realize their sincerity. 

It was a bit odd to have to play telephone with others to hear those words from your brother, but it eased your mind nonetheless. And he promised that the two of you would have a sibling get together as soon as he was able to, with no expectations about you rejoining or doing favors for the family; just simply enjoying one another's time as a normal brother and sister would.

The thought made you happy, and you hoped it was a sign of good things to come. You're not sure if there will ever be a time where your brother and your lover can ever meet and happily exist in the same space, but you could at least be happy if Chan cheers for your happiness from afar.

So with all that in mind, you've begun to pack more eagerly in the last few days. You have all of your out of season clothes packed now, boxes safely nestled in various corners of your apartment and ready to be taken to Changbin's place at any moment.

You even smile to yourself as you pack away your childhood objects, giddy as you think about where each object would look having its own spot in Changbin's house. Everything, from imagining where you'll display your favorite old teddy bear to what your clothes will look like tucked away next to his is enough to make you beam with delight. 

And thankfully, Jeongin is finally free to help you tonight, arriving with some desperately needed coffees in hand. "Drink up Noona, you must be exhausted from all this work," he smiles as he passes one of the coffees to you, which you graciously accept. "Yeah, working all day and then having to pack my stuff alone in the evenings sucks," you complain after taking several big sips of your drink.

Honestly, you really appreciate the help. There's no doubt in your mind that Jeongin must be tired too, but he's still deciding to help you anyways. And besides that, it'll be nice to have someone to talk to while you do the mindless task of putting things in boxes. 

"So, Chan doesn't have you working tonight?" you ask after the pair of you begin packing away your various kitchen items. "I already did my work, technically. He just wanted me to go to the station as usual today and observe everyone. I was supposed to let him know if anyone seemed more on edge than usual."

"Oh. I'm guessing he wants to get an idea about if the police are clued in on his plans again?" you ask, and Jeongin nods. "Yeah. He said that if I discovered that they knew anything, he would change tactics. Trip them up by swapping the days around, changing what time of day to strike, and things like that. But everyone seemed normal."

That makes sense, you think; while high standing officers are supposed to keep their cool at all times, not everyone has a good poker face, and if someone seemed exceptionally nervous, that could be a good indicator that something big was on the horizon. "So everything is good at the station? Are things going well with that big case Changbin has been worried about lately?" 

"I think so," Jeongin answers, as he finishes putting the last of a plate set gently into a box. "I'm a low standing officer there, so I actually don't know much about the cases Changbin oversees personally, or what goes on in the other departments. But it looks like things are going well, as far as I can tell. I won't know more than that unless I get assigned to the case." 

You nod in understanding as he speaks, taping a box shut as you finish filling it up with various dishware. It's a stressful time for everyone it seems, but you hope things go well. You'll be happier when Changbin finally closes his case and has more free time to spend with you, and you'll be happy when you talk to Chan as siblings and put your past fully behind you.

You'll also be happier when Jeongin doesn't have to lead a double life anymore like you've had to for so many years before now. More than that, you hope that following this everyone you love can stay out of harm's way for as long as possible. 

The two of you make idle small talk as you finish packing the kitchen, leaving only enough dishes out for you to use while still finishing the rest of your packing. You leave the lugging of the boxes around the house to Jeongin, as he's much stronger than you, and you'd rather him be the one to carry around all that heavy glass and porcelain.

You both jump when his phone suddenly rings and he nearly drops the box he's carrying, but thankfully he doesn't– disposing of all that broken glass and having to replace them with new sets would be a nightmare. "Help me put this down if you can, so I can answer my phone, please," he says, and you hold the opposite end of the box, helping him ease the box to the floor as swiftly but safely as possible.

He pulls his phone out of pocket as quickly as he's able, answering the phone in his usual mannerism. "Hey, Felix-hyung, what's up?" Your ears perk up at hearing him say a familiar name, and look at him with a questioning gaze, while Jeongin just shrugs in your direction.

You wait patiently for him to finish his phone call, deciding to use this time as a small break from all the work you've been putting in. You sit down, settling into your sofa before absentmindedly listening to Jeongin talk on the phone.

However, dread settles in your gut as you watch his expression change. “What? What is it?” You ask, body going stiff as your mind races through the possibilities and you prepare to hear the worst. “Chan-hyung started the raid, and it hasn’t been going well for either side. The police were there, and... Changbin is pursuing him.” 

No. You don't want to believe it. Your blood runs cold in your veins as you start to put the pieces together; the case that Changbin has been struggling with because the culprit was so elusive, the case that he was so happy to finally have a lead on after months of stagnation, the operation he's been carefully planning for weeks to finally bring the person he's been looking for to justice.. It was about Chan– this entire time he's had your brother in his sights. 

You weren't oblivious to the fact that your brother was a wanted man, you've always known that the police were looking for him and that this outcome was a possibility, but you foolishly hoped that everything would reach a peaceful conclusion.

And now they are going to be in each other's sights, with Changbin having no idea of your relation to the man he's been hunting, and Chan not knowing how you feel about Changbin, while backed in a corner and prepared to do anything to get out of it.

You’re on your feet in an instant, rushing to grab your keys to leave. “Noona! You can’t go, it’s too dangerous for you!” Jeongin rises to his feet after you, bolting to beat you to your front door. “I have to go, I can’t just sit here!” You exclaim as you try to desperately push your way past him.

“Don’t be reckless, let’s make a plan with Felix-hyung first,” Jeongin pleads, trying to appeal to your rational side. Rationality has left you however, being replaced solely by panic and urgency. “We don’t have time for that, Felix already has his hands full with everything else, we’re lucky he even had a chance to call! I have to go before it’s too late to stop something bad from happening, they’ll listen to me!”

God dammit. He doesn't want to let you walk into a situation like this, but the way you're looking at him, so full of trepidation and urgency, with eyes desperately pleading to let you pass, it makes him feel like a knife is twisting in his gut. And there's truth in your words; maybe, if you can reach them in time, you can prevent the worst case scenario from unfolding.

He hates it, but maybe it is the only way to make sure everyone gets out of this unharmed. Neither Chan or Changbin want you to be hurt, so they would stop the altercation they were having if you showed up– they’d have to. “Okay, but I’m going with you. You can’t go alone.” Jeongin concedes, stepping aside to let you out and following swiftly behind you.

You immediately start to make a beeline for the front seat of your car, but Jeongin reaches out to stop you, grabbing your arm firmly. "Let me, you shouldn't drive in this state," he reasons with you, holding out his opposite hand to accept your keys from you.

You're really in no place to argue, and he's probably right; how can you possibly worry about driving safely in this situation? So you concede easily, to Jeongin's relief, placing your keys in his hand and trusting him to get you where you need to be as quickly as he safely can. 

Jeongin gets the location from Felix, and while truthfully the drive is only several minutes at most, it feels like an eternity to you. Every attempt to calm yourself ends in vain, no amount of breathing techniques or affirmative talk being enough to calm the barrage of dread.

You're scared, you realize. So fucking scared. Scared of your brother's fate, of Changbin's, what you'll do if you arrive in time and what you'll do if you don't. Fuck, you really don't want to think about that scenario. You'll get there in time, you have to– there's no other option. 

Jeongin curses as you approach the surrounding area of the building that everyone is supposedly inside of– it’s completely walled off by a police barricade, with officers redirecting civilians and forcing them out of the area.

“What do we do? We need in there,” he muses pessimistically, more to himself than to you. Still driving, though more slowly so as to not approach the barricade closely, he reaches out for his phone, hoping to call Felix and find a way for you to get inside. 

But you don’t have any time to spare. You can’t wait for Felix, and you don’t have the luxury of using your limited time to make a plan of action. All you can do is go, and hope your feet carry you quickly to where you need to be.

You rush out of the car before Jeongin even has a chance to bring it to full stop, your feet carrying you as fast as they can, desperate to prevent the worst from happening. You hear Jeongin’s voice ring out behind you, but whatever he’s yelling out is lost on you. The adrenaline pumping in your veins blocks out everything that isn’t in your immediate view. You have to get to them in time, you have to, you have to.

Your eyes quickly scan the perimeter, searching for a point of chaos between the police, your family, and the rival family that you can use to your advantage. If things go your way, you could slip past the police in charge of maintaining the barricade through the confusion. And if you’re even more lucky, you could run past all the fighting and stray bullets unscathed.

You don’t feel good about how much of this relies on luck, as you’ve never had it on your side, but there’s no other options. You have to just let your feet carry you forward, and pray with all your might that things don’t turn out for the worst. Finding a spot you think will be your best bet, you take a breath to steel yourself, and run.

There are shouts all around you as you dart past everyone as quickly as you can manage, officers and mafia members alike. You ignore the voices as you run, eyes combing everything around you in hopes of finding something or someone familiar to lead you down the right path.

You’d been in your fair share of dangerous situations, but this is easily the most dire of them all. Everything is against you, but you have to carry on regardless, even if it all ends in vain. “Noona!” A familiar voice calls out and you stop, frantically searching for the owner of the voice that called out to you.

You eventually see Jisung standing in the distance, and the pair of you run to each other, dodging past as much of the unfolding chaos as you can. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be involved in this,” he talks with alarm and bewilderment. 

When he first saw you, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He hasn’t seen you in over a year, so he must’ve mistaken someone else for you. But the closer you came, the more he realized it was you he was seeing, and that his eyes weren’t deceiving him. “I need to find Chan, do you know where he is?” you ask between quick inhales.

“Noona, you should take a minute, you’re clearly out of breath and–” If this were another time, you would’ve appreciated and thanked him for his concern, but you can’t afford to waste time right now.

“I need to see Chan, right now, it’s important! Do you know where he is?” you repeat, hoping to reflect the urgency of your situation. Jisung is possibly the most confused and concerned he’s ever been in his life, but your desperation is palpable and it’s obvious to him that whatever this is, he doesn’t have the luxury to ask for any elaboration right now. 

“He had an escape route prepared in case this happened, that way,” Jisung points to the north, away from most of the surrounding fighting and police presence, before he continues, “but you really should be careful, it might not be safe–”

You begin running again before he can continue, yelling out an apology and a thanks as you go. He’s stunned in place for a moment, cursing as he decides on whether or not he should follow you. Jisung decides, however, it’d be best to stay and keep people off your path. He’ll do his best to make sure that no one that would harm you, or Chan, makes it past him.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been running for, as images blur and merge in your peripheral. This is the most you’ve ever run in your entire life, your lungs burn and your legs are becoming heavier and heavier from exhaustion with each step, but you have to keep going, no matter what.

And finally, the silhouettes of people appear in the distance. The flame of urgency burning within you that was being snuffed by exhaustion is reignited in an instant, body now reinvigorated to carry you further. 

Your heart sinks as you begin to more closely approach the scene in front of you. Changbin is injured, hand gripping his bloodied arm as the harsh gravel digs into his knees on the ground while the handgun he was granted for this operation lies yards away from him in the dirt.

Chan has his aim set on Changbin, gun cocked and ready to fire another shot if Changbin makes a move. He can’t hope to reach his own gun before Chan takes another shot at him, and he won’t be able to disarm and cuff him with his arm in the state it’s in. He’s stuck in place, doomed to whatever fate Chan has in store for him unless he can come up with a plan within the next minute. 

“Don’t shoot!” Your voice calls out desperately as you run forward, rushing to stand in front of Changbin and block him with your body before your brother can act.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Chan is clearly surprised by the intrusion, but he doesn’t lower the gun yet, evidently waiting for you to move out of the way so he can take the shot he had lined up. “Don’t shoot him,” you repeat, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. 

Changbin is frozen in place, mind reeling as he stares at your backside. How are you here? What is your relation to the mafia head he's been hunting? Did you know he would be here, or was this coincidence? What is happening? Is this even real?

Was he already dead, and now in his final moments he is projecting your image in front of him to bring himself comfort? No, if you were a projection of his mind then surely things would be different. You’d hug him warmly, make his final moments peaceful by reminding him of your love and planting kisses to his cheeks.

This is reality. A dreadful reality.  

“Are you serious?” Chan says incredulously, baring an expression you’d seen many times pointed at enemies, but never at yourself. He’s angry, teeth gritting as he stares you down. “You’re going to protect him? What about Minho, huh? You’re gonna side with the man that put him in?”

His gun remains firmly pointed forward, though his hand is no longer as steady. There’s a tremble as various emotions course through him; anger, hurt, sadness, confusion. None of it makes sense to him. Why would you do this?  

“He’s just doing his job! He’s not a bad man just because you don’t like that!” You argue, hands trembling as you raise your voice to your brother. You’d never argued with him before, normally having always been on the same side. But he doesn’t see the way you’ve changed, doesn’t know the pain you harbored all these years and how it ate away at you.

He doesn't know the depth of your feelings for Changbin, and how you'd willingly put yourself in danger a million times over before you'd let something bad happen to him. “You’re the one in the wrong, not Changbin.”

Some people resort to crime because they have no choice; it’s all they know or the only way they can survive. They do it because they must, even if they hate it and even if it pains them. And you used to feel that way too– like you didn't have a choice.

You felt like your life was decided for you the moment you were born, and that you’d never be free of hardship. But you did have a choice, you always did, and Chan does too, even if he doesn’t realize it at this moment. 

Chan can choose to step away, he can choose to not let the expectations of your deceased parents determine his course, he can choose to be a better person than he was yesterday. It’s not yours or Chan’s fault that this was the life you were born into, but you realized it didn’t have to stay that way.

You had the power to change your own life, and Chan does too. Whether or not he shoots is a choice; he doesn’t have to do this, and you’ll make him understand that at any cost.

Your brother scoffs in disbelief as he lowers the gun, his expression the most cold and distant you’d ever seen pointed at you. “You love him, don’t you? Is that what this is?” There’s no other explanation.

You’d never done this before; you’ve always had strong morals, you’ve always hated the terrible things he had to do, but despite that you still never stopped him like this. So why else would you now, after all this time, unless it's love? 

“I do,” you answer firmly, trying your best to convey how serious you are. He scans your face, looking for any sign that this might all somehow be an elaborate joke despite knowing inside that there’s no way that it is.

His eyes move behind you next, taking in the utter shock and confusion painted on Changbin’s face. “He doesn’t know, does he?” Chan states more than asks. It’s obvious you didn’t reveal the truth of your life to him, otherwise he wouldn’t have such a bewildered expression.

“Know what..?” Changbin manages to finally find his voice, though he’s not sure he even wants to hear the answer. Chan shifts his gaze back to you, taking in your expression next. There’s trepidation there, sure, but underneath is a determination he’s never seen in you before you. A resolve that is both unflinching and resolute.

Are you that determined to protect this man? You’d choose him over your own brother, your family? He means so much to you that you’d throw everything else away? That's what makes him the most hurt of all. 

“I’m her brother,” Chan says almost nonchalantly, though you know your brother well enough to hear the emotion underneath. The faux calm, almost indifferent expression masking the true depth of what he feels. It would fool you if you were a stranger, but the years of growing up together gives him away easily.

It was something you used to admire in him– his ability to remain calm despite being anything but was something you were sure required a lot of self control and restraint. But now that his vindication is pointed at you, a chill runs down your spine.

You know what Chan is capable of, and you know how easy it is for him to remove threats. And while you hope your bond as siblings is enough to prevent him from doing the worst, there is truly no guarantee.

He would go to great lengths to protect the life he has, even if it meant committing to a task that agonized him; you’ve seen it done multiple times. You’re his last blood relative left, and he loves you dearly, but is that enough? Can you say for certain that he’d never, under any circumstance, harm you? 

If it were the Chan of the past, you would be assured in your safety. He’d never jeopardize you, never put you in harm's way, never be the cause for any suffering you might feel. But somewhere along the way, he lost himself, and the Chan you see in front of you now isn't the same brother you knew years ago. Years of hardship have worn on him, months of anger and betrayal warping him into someone you don’t recognize anymore. 

“Y/N..? Is that true..?” You hear Changbin’s voice from behind you, hollow and hesitant. He knows the answer is the one he hates, and he dreads having to hear it, but he has to, in your own words with your own voice. Even if the truth plagues him, even if the grief kills him, he just has to hear it from you.

You want to turn around and face him, to explain this situation from your perspective, but you can’t yet. There is a part of you that fears what will ensue if you turn your back to your brother right now.

“Please, walk away,” you plead with Chan, desperation clear in your tone. Changbin is trembling behind you, he realizes; not from fear, but from an overwhelming and all encompassing sorrow overtaking him. 

The tension in Chan’s body loosens, but his gaze is still harsh as he looks at you. “Fine. I’ll walk away– not because I give a shit about what happens to him, though. I’m doing it for you.” He turns to Changbin next, stare as cold as ice.

“My sister bought you a favor today. I can’t promise what will happen if you come after me again. Remember that, yeah?” He looks at you one last time, making sure you remember that as well. That if there is a next time, he won’t be holding back– and he expects you to accept that. 

You spend a few moments watching Chan walk away, not turning to look at Changbin until he is just a dark silhouette against the nearly set sun. Changbin rises to his feet with some difficulty, but he doesn’t accept it when you reach your arms out to help him. You swallow, biting back tears as you lower your arms. You understand why he didn’t accept your help, but fuck, does it hurt. 

“Your estranged brother I never met, that you said you haven't been in contact with for a long time.. This is why?” The anguish in his voice is evident and it makes your heart squeeze in your chest.

You nod slowly, your hesitancy not due to any lack of desire to tell the truth, but because you loathe the inevitable outcome. He’s leaving you today. He doesn’t trust you anymore. He doesn’t love you anymore. 

“And Jeongin? Does he know what your brother does too?” “Yes,” you answer, trying not to let the agony you feel make your voice tremble, “I can explain everything but you need to go to the hospital, your arm–”

You watch Changbin take a shuddering breath as he takes in your words. Maybe it’s the shock, the adrenaline, or both, but he doesn’t feel the pain anymore. In fact, he couldn’t care less about getting medical attention right now. He needs answers from you, right now, more than anything else.

“So, what was the point of all this then? You were supposed to use me and throw me away afterwards, is that it?” His tone is as accusatory as it is despondent. Tears begin to fall from your eyes, no longer able to be stopped from willpower alone. “Were you playing me for a fool this entire time?” You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. You have to be honest, lying to him even after all this will make it worse. 

“I met you because my brother asked me to, but I was never going to hurt you! Jeongin and I, we– we don’t want to do things like that anymore. We are trying to put our pasts behind us.” You plead with him to understand you, to not believe that you would ever purposely hurt him. The last thing you ever wanted was to see this expression on his face. Broken. Dejected. Miserable. 

"How can I believe that now? How am I supposed to trust that you're not telling me another lie?" Changbin bites back, a tidal wave of emotion behind each word. He loved you so genuinely, but what does he do now? How can he look at all the interactions you had and not question the motive behind each one?

He didn’t want to doubt you like this. He wanted to believe that you meant it when you said you loved him all this time. You healed every broken part of him, only to shatter him all over again.

“That day– when you told me you loved me for the first time.. You said you were afraid I’d leave you someday. Is this why?” he asks, trying desperately to believe you. He doesn't know if he can anymore, but deep inside, he still wants to– he doesn't want to let you go, despite what you've done. That almost makes it even worse.

“I love you, and that’s the truth. I understand if you don’t believe me but I’ve never lied about that.” Tears are streaming down your cheeks, your entire world feeling like it’s on the verge of collapse. Changbin’s heart aches unbearably. He trusted someone after all this time, only for it to turn out like this? 

"You lied to me– you knew how much I trusted you and you lied to me," his voice breaks now, and he turns his face away, refusing to look at you any longer.

"And did you ever think about the fact that I could lose my job because of this? You know how much my career means to me, did that ever really matter to you?" he contiues, voice wavering painfully, "If anyone finds out that I’ve been dating someone with a criminal connection, I’ll look corrupt. It won’t matter that I didn't know, I’ll be forced to resign." 

“I..” you want to reply, but you don’t have the words. He’s right, of course. The public won’t care that you’ve tried to change, they won’t care that you have a clean record or live a quiet, modest life. They’ll see a scandal. They’ll see you as someone unworthy of society.

And they’ll turn on Changbin, the man who has done nothing but dedicate his life to protecting them. They’ll accuse him, misunderstand him, drag his reputation through the mud. A scandal will ruin the public perception of police, it’ll taint his spotless career in a matter of seconds. And it’ll be all your fault, always.

You’ve always lived your life selflessly, put others before yourself, did the things you hated to make someone else’s life easier. You were selfish, just this once. Just this once, you did something for your own happiness. Just this once, you hoped that the world would do you a favor, and allow you to keep the joy you obtained. 

But, as always, that joy wasn’t meant for you. As always, the life you were born into ruined any chance at happiness you ever had. You clung, desperately, to the idea that your life with Changbin would always be happy. You clung to the hope that the sorrow you’ve lived with for so long would never make its return. You clung to the love Changbin offered you, to the peace he brought you, and to the future you dreamed of building with him.

That future crumbled before your eyes in an instant. You wish you could cry, kick, and scream, beg Changbin to believe you and not turn away, but you can’t. Because you can’t blame him for not being able to see you the same way anymore. It’s not his fault, nothing is. If he can never trust you again, or see you the same way as he did yesterday, there’s nothing you can do but accept it.

You look at him, heartbroken as stray tears falling down in his face, the grief palpable. You try to find your voice, but even if you do, what more can you say? Will it even make a difference? But you should try at least. You can’t leave things like this. You can’t watch him hurt like this and do nothing in response.

“Changbin, I.. I understand if you can’t trust me anymore. But I do genuinely, with all my heart, love you. I wouldn’t have stopped my brother if I didn’t. Even if you never want to look at me again, I hope you’ll believe that, at least,” you sob out the words, trying not to stutter with each one that passes your lips. 

Changbin looks at you, lips trembling. His mouth opens and closes, as if he was about to speak but decided against it, or couldn’t find the words. Everything hurts, he doesn’t know what to say anymore. He loves you so much, but should he accept what you say so easily? Even if he wants everything to go back to the way things were before, is it even possible anymore? 

But in the entire time he’s known you, you’ve always seemed so genuine. Your pretty smiles, your loving embraces, your sweet words. The way you cried over him, supported him, loved him.. How could any of that be fake?

And, if he thinks about it, he could understand why you wouldn’t want to share your shameful past with someone. You never went into detail about why you didn’t keep in contact much with your brother, but if your explanation is true, it makes sense. 

It’s hard to talk about the things you aren’t proud of, the things you hate about yourself or the life you led. He knows from his own experience how challenging it is to be emotionally vulnerable with someone, but it always seemed like you were trying your best with him. He can remember all the times you opened up to him well, because of how happy it made him feel to know you loved and relied on him. 

Was it wrong of you to leave out the truth of your brother? Of course it was. A lie by omission is still a lie, after all. And maybe you were just a good actor all this time, but he couldn’t help but believe in his memories.

His memories of you telling him about your life, about the things you love and the things you feel. You shared so much with him.. Surely after this long, you would've slipped up if your feelings weren't true. 

The average person can't hide feelings of contempt easily, subtle changes in their facial expressions and body language often betray them, and they drop their guard when they feel like they are no longer being observed.

And he's watched you a lot, looking at you with eyes full of love and joy whenever you thought he was no longer looking. He would see the bashful smiles, your pink tinted cheeks, the soft giggles to yourself. All so cute, all so endearing, all so real. 

No one could possibly fake that, right? Even the best of actors would eventually grow weary of their act, wouldn't they? He doesn't know what to think anymore, nor what to do. All he knows is that he loves you, and he doesn't want this to be the end. Even if it's what he should do, he doesn't want to turn away from you.

Regardless of your past, or what you may have hidden about your life, it's an undeniable truth that you helped him overcome his troubles. You made his life better simply by existing in the same space. You always greeted him with a smile full of warmth and care. He loves you. "I.. need to think," Changbin finally says after some time, "I don't–"

"Chief!" You hear a voice call out, and the both of you turn in its direction, seeing a small unit of officers running towards you. His body immediately stiffens, face changing in an instant. He can’t look vulnerable in front of his men. He can’t let them see the feelings underneath the surface of his expression.

Their weapons are drawn as they approach, pointed at you cautiously, prepared to make a move if it seems like you will take a step out of line. Changbin instinctively stands in front of you, speaking to his subordinates in a clear voice, "Stand down, she's a civilian." 

"Apologies ma'am," the one leading the unit says before they all bow an apology to you. Changbin looks at you, swallowing as he decides, for the first time in his career, that he will lie for someone. "The target evaded capture by using her as a hostage. He opened fire after I secured her."

Changbin, stout, honest, and resolute Changbin, who never went against his morals and always upheld the law, just lied on your behalf.

"Were you hurt?" one asks you, while another calls for assistance on his walkie. "N-No, I'm fine, I.." you hesitate for a moment, taking a breath that you hope just makes you appear like you're recovering from the shock of being a hostage. "He protected me."

"Our on site medics have their hands full, but an additional ambulance is on the way, Chief," the officer with the walkie speaks up, turning to you next. "We'll need to interview you ma'am. Can you answer some questions for us?"

You open your mouth to speak, but Changbin places his hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. "Let her be evaluated before you question her. Even without physical injury, she's been through a lot. She's not in a state to answer questions," Changbin says to them. He uses a commanding tone, but one that is somehow still full of care.

"Of course, sir." The officer bows to him respectfully. Changbin looks at you, his expression unreadable. You suppose this must be the stern poker face that you've heard so much about, but never seen with your own eyes.

"We'll be in contact." He says, and though you know that's something he has to tell you as an officer to a witness, you can't help the way it gives you hope. You hope there will be a day that Changbin forgives you. You hope that he will still love you as he did when this day began. You can wait, no matter how long it takes, because it'll be worth it for him.

Changbin walks away from you now, evidently to talk with his team about matters a civilian like you isn’t supposed to hear. You fall to your knees when he’s out of immediate view, with the pair of officers that stayed behind to watch over you trying to catch you.

Now that all the adrenaline has faded from your system, and you no longer have strong emotions making you ignore the ache in your body, your legs have practically turned to jello, no longer strong enough to hold you up. Your body is the weakest it’s ever felt, sore and frail from all the exertion.

The officers around you make a small commotion, trying to help you to your feet and assuring you that help will be here soon. But despite that, you still look on in the direction Changbin went. You wish you could know if he’ll be okay. You wish you could know if he still cares about you.

Or, at the very least, you wish you could know that he doesn’t hate you. You hope his arm doesn’t hurt too terribly, you hope it heals well, and you hope that he forgives you for the pain you and your brother have caused him. 

That’s all you want, you think. For Changbin to be happy and healthy. You hope he’ll still love you, but you’ll be okay if he doesn’t, as long as he doesn’t hate you for what you’ve done. You’ll be content with never having him in your life again, as long as he forgives you.

You’ll wish him well, with the best smile you can muster, even if all he ever does is accept your apologies. Because you love him, and you want the best for him. It’ll hurt, but if he decides the best for him isn’t you, it’ll be okay– it’ll have to be. 

You won’t be selfish, or at least you’ll try your very best not to be. You won’t expect anything from him that you shouldn’t. You won’t beg, or plead, or force. But you’ll hope, because that’s all you have now.

It’s all you’ve ever had, really. Hope for a better future, a better life, a happier existence. And all you can do is hope- that your better future will include Changbin. 

Changbin, who you hope forgives you, who you hope still loves you, who you hope still wants you in his life. Changbin, who has shown you how happy life can be when you let the right person in. Changbin, who melted the ice that filled the cracks in your heart, and replaced it with warmth. Changbin, who took the broken parts of you and pieced them back together, who treated you like porcelain worthy of the utmost care. 

If you’re an angel to him, then he is a seraph to you. His light shines brightly, as brilliant as the sun, his warmth beyond comparison, his smile incandescent. You’ll always love him, no matter how much time passes.

Even if he no longer feels the same, and even if he never sees you again, you won’t be able to love anyone else the way you’ve loved him. That’s just how important he is to you; no one else could take his place in your heart. 

He taught you how to trust again. He reminded you how it felt to smile with sincerity, to love genuinely, to laugh unapologetically. It’s something you will always cherish, with all that you are and all that you have.

Seo Changbin is irreplaceable, and always will be. You love him, and always will. And you hope, hope, hope, that he’ll always love you too.

It's been months since the last time Changbin has spoken to you. Long, emotionally draining months. He missed you, so terribly, but he couldn't bring himself to talk to you– at least, not yet anyways. There was just so much to think about after he learned the truth about your family, and about the lies that surrounded you as a result of it.

He could understand why you didn't tell him about your brother, but it still hurt to find out the way he did. And it also left him conflicted and confused about how he should move forward if the two of you stayed together. 

He's not just a police officer, he's the chief. Everyone looks up to him, he's the one that has to be turned to in crucial moments, the one who has to make hard decisions. He has a lot of power, the one in charge of multiple units and operations.

With all that comes responsibility, not just to his subordinates, but to the public. He has a duty to protect them, a duty to adhere to the law, and a duty to uphold the truth. And while at first, his immediate concern when he found out about your brother was what it could possibly do to his career, there was more to it than just that. 

Changbin can't ignore the fact that your brother is a criminal, even if he wanted to– it's his sworn duty as an officer to arrest criminals. Would you be able to, in all honesty, never harbor resentment or hatred for him if he had to arrest or harm your brother?

If the situation was swapped, and it was Changbin pointing the barrel of his gun at Chan, would you be able to accept that? If he had to shoot your brother, could you say for certain that you wouldn't despise him for it? If cutting off your brother for good was necessary for the two of you to be happy together, would you honestly never be angry or resentful about it?

You might say yes, and you might wholeheartedly believe that when you say it, but the human heart is complex and uncertain in nature. There may come a day in the future where you realize how much you miss your family, and come to blame Changbin for the distance between you. The ties people have to their loved ones are immense, and oftentimes inseverable by will alone. 

And maybe none of that will ever come to be. Maybe his concerns are unfounded, and you would be resolute in your choice to be with him no matter what happened to your brother, but he can't help but think about it.

A spur of the moment decision could change his life forever, and he has to consider every outcome, no matter how unlikely and how much he trusts in your feelings. His future with you is uncertain, and that scares him. 

There were many days where he stared at your contact in his phone, trying to find the words to send to you, but not being able to. He'd never known himself to hesitate like this before, never been scared of uncertainties and rejection.

Even at his most torn down, he always did his best to live his life as confidently as he could, with the mindset that if things didn't go his way he would eventually recover. There were so many losses that wore at him, so many heart breaks to recover from, but he always turned out okay in the end.

Changbin always strived to live his life with optimism despite it all. Even in his worst, most depressed moments, he dragged himself out of the muck, and worked earnestly towards getting the things he wanted. He never feared moving forward from loss, because he knew you could get what he once had back with effort.

Whenever he faltered he picked himself back up, when he was lost in darkness he would persevere until the light returned to him. But now, here he was, crippled by the fear of losing something, someone, he wants dearly, unable to pick himself back day the way he always could before.

His fear turned to hesitance, which has eventually turned to inaction– uncharacteristically, he watches life pass him by, stares at your name in his phone and does nothing. He sighs heavily, head hitting his desk as he falls against it. He just doesn't know what to do.

If he reaches out to you, will you respond? What if he wasted so much time in his fear, that now you've moved on, and he's wasted whatever chance at happiness with you he had?

He stares at nothing for a long while, his head simultaneously feeling full to the brim with thoughts and like a vast nothingness, almost numb. A knock on his office door suddenly breaks his trance, and he lifts his head, beckoning whoever is on the other side to enter. 

"Sir, Yang Jeongin is requesting to speak with you," the officer who enters says, and Changbin's eyebrows raise in surprise. The Yang Jeongin that was working here until the incident a few months ago? Your little brother? That Yang Jeongin?

"What is he doing here?" he asks after a moment, but the officer shrugs in response. "Don't know. Said it was something only the chief should hear. Maybe it's a lead on one of your cases?" they suggest and Changbin frowns. There is only one reason Jeongin would want to speak to him after all this time�� it's you. Whatever he has to say, it's about you. 

"Tell him I'll be right out," Changbin says as he stands, and the officer nods, bowing politely as they close the door behind themself. Changbin takes a moment to steady his racing heart, taking a deep breath before he leaves his office. He strides coolly past the many desks where other officers are sitting, hoping to maintain a calm exterior and not give away the trepidation he feels.

Jeongin is sitting on a bench in the front hall of the station, and he offers a small wave when he spots Changbin opposite of him. "Chief," Jeongin starts, but immediately corrects himself, "Well, I guess I shouldn't call you that anymore, huh?" 

"Jeongin.. Should we talk somewhere privately?" Changbin asks and the younger man nods, standing to follow wherever the older leads. They leave the building together, walking quietly until stopping in front of a cafe that Changbin frequents.

"This place good with you?" he asks, and Jeongin nods, having no reason to object to the location. They sit, making simple coffee orders, before Jeongin lets out a small sigh. "Well, I should get straight to the point.. Y/N-noona is leaving." 

Changbin's frame stiffens, looking at Jeongin with a firm expression. "Leaving as in.. she won't be in Seoul anymore?" he asks and Jeongin nods.

"I don't know if it's my place to tell you, but.. she's always hated being involved in.. let's say "the life." She left before, but just got dragged back in and, she thinks leaving the city entirely will be the thing that will finally put her past behind her for good." He explains, choosing his language carefully given the public setting. 

So.. this isn’t the first time you’ve tried to leave, that's what he's saying? Before you ever even met Changbin, you already wanted out? You were prepared to stay away from your brother, even before you knew him? Maybe he should feel stupid with the realization that his worries were unfounded, but instead he feels relief.

It's proof you'd never hate him or blame him if you had to keep distance from your brother, proof of your morals, and proof of the truth you were trying to convey to him that day– that you would've never betrayed him. That you loved him, truthfully and wholeheartedly. 

"Can I ask you– if she wants to leave, and put everything behind her.. Why are you telling me she's going?" Changbin asks carefully, and Jeongin doesn't hesitate to answer. "Because she loves you. Even now, all she hopes for is that you still love her too. She misses you."

Changbin's heart picks back up in speed upon his words. Is that what you've told him? If he called you right now, would you be happy? Did you still want to be with him? Were you waiting for him, all this time? 

"I'm not saying you should convince her to stay here, or that you should abandon your life here to follow her, but.. I still thought you should know." Jeongin continues, "And she would be happy to hear from you before she goes. Even if you have no intention of continuing your relationship, and it's just for closure's sake, it'd be good for her. She could move on with a smile, I think." 

"I want to talk to her," Changbin says with a certainty that makes Jeongin's tense body finally relax. He was hoping, more than anything, that Changbin would talk with you before you go. All he wants is for you to be happy, or have the closure needed to move on if nothing else. "I'm supposed to be meeting up with her again later tonight to help her carry boxes, but I think she'd like it better if you showed up instead." 

“Are you sure that would be okay?” Changbin asks, and Jeongin smiles and nods without hesitation. “Of course. I wouldn’t put her in a situation that would upset her. I know she wants to see you.”

Changbin returns that smile, feeling elated for the first time since that day he walked away from you. He didn’t know what he wanted then, was hopelessly lost and confused. He’s spent enough time thinking about it, but now he knows, and he’s determined to show you– all he wants is you.

You sigh as you stare at the boxes littering your apartment, flopping onto your sofa and wiping the sweat from your brow. You were beyond exhausted, days filled with nothing but work and then packing when you got home.

You were also exhausted thinking about how you would just have to unpack everything when you arrived at your new home. You’d surely have some grueling months ahead of you. 

But leaving this city was long overdue when you think about it– you really should have left it a long time ago. It has been 2 years now since the day you first left the family, and around a year and a half since you were subsequently dragged back in and met Changbin. Your heart ached whenever you thought about him, but you could never stop yourself. Everything reminded you of him, it seemed. 

He changed your life for the better when he was in it, after all. It was hard not to see him in even the little things. When you’d watch tv to relax, you’d think about how it felt when Changbin was there with you, arms wrapped around you snuggly while you followed your little routine of choosing what to watch back and forth.

When you ate dinner, you’d think about how Changbin knew all your favorite things, and would playfully tease you about how you could eat the same things over and over again without getting tired of it. 

When you layed in bed at night, you thought about how it felt to have Changbin next to you, his soft breathing in your ears and warm body lulling you to sleep. You’d be reminded of his gentle touches, his loving stare, and his cute pouts.

The way he’d keep you close to him, beg you to stay with him as long as possible, and smile brighter than the sun itself. Everything about him was endearing, everything worth committing to your memory, everything worth loving even after he was gone from your life.

Maybe that’s another reason you finally decided to leave for good. It was hard to look at your surroundings and not be reminded of all you once had and lost. Seoul carries a lot of memories for you, often times more bad than good.

You lost a lot of things here– your innocence, your family, and your love. What good you managed to hold in your hands always seemed to crumble and slip through your fingers, with you unable to do a thing to prevent it. 

You needed a change of scenery, and to leave the painful memories behind you. It’d help, you think, if you were able to look at the world around you and not be bombarded with the feelings of loss and sadness.

Maybe you could stand on your own two feet more effectively, be the kind of happy person Changbin showed you that you could be. And maybe, if you were lucky, he would meet you again while you were a new version of yourself.

A stronger you, a happier you. Someone who didn’t falter and live in anxiety any longer, who lived the new life she was given with hope and joy. You’d be happy if you could show Changbin how much you’ve grown, how you’ve changed for the better thanks to his earnest love for you.

And not just for Changbin– living a better life is how you would pay back everyone who has helped you up until now. It’s how you would thank Felix and Jeongin for all their support in the hardest days of your life. Living a happier life was the best way to show your appreciation for all the people you love, and who love you in return.

You’d move on with your head held high, and someday in the future you would return here as the best version of yourself you could be. Even if they weren’t here with you right at this moment, it was enough to make you want to do your best. 

“You know, you could still come with me Innie,” you told him when he was here earlier today, helping you move various heavy objects to the front room of your apartment. “I know, but I still have things I want to take care of here,” he responded with a soft smile.

Unlike you, he still had a mother to watch after here. He also expressed his desire to leave Chan and the others behind on positive terms, and to pursue training at the officer’s academy earnestly, so he could come back to his colleagues an honest man. 

You were proud of him, truly, for making those choices for himself. You had nothing but faith that he would see his goals through, and be a little brother you could be proud of. He promised that he, with the help of Felix and Jisung, would help set Chan on the right path before he leaves his life there behind for good.

And when that day came, he would find you again, maybe even with everyone you love hand in hand with him. Maybe there would be a day where you could hug both of your brothers again, reunite with your old friends, and return to Seoul happily. 

Speaking of friends, Seungmin was devastated when you announced to the office you were leaving. He made you promise that you would still keep in touch, and that you’d come back to visit sometimes. Of course, you reminded him that he could always come visit you as well but he insisted it would be more fun if you came to Seoul than if he went to some obscure small town. 

You were still worried about Minho as well. It had been a long time since you, or anyone for that matter, had been able to see him in person. But he often wrote letters, expressing that he accepts where he is because it’s the natural result of the choices he made. He wishes everyone well, and hopes that everyone can live their lives happily until the day he is released. He doesn’t want anyone to risk their lives or safety for him, because he is okay. 

You’re not sure if it gave Chan closure the way it did for you, but you hope it has. All you’ve ever wanted for your brother was for him to be safe and happy after all. And there’s still a part of you that hopes one day he’ll renounce his leadership and walk away from the life he’s led up until today. You’d like it if you could return the relationship you had with him as children, where the two of you were free from worries, and the bond you had as siblings made you stronger together.  

You close your eyes, another small sigh leaving your lips. You’re tired, so tired, but strangely optimistic. Your life will be better from here on out, you’ll make sure of it.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t spend a lot of time crying at first, but when it was all over you realized how lucky you were. Lucky to have been loved by Changbin. Lucky to have friends who care about you. Lucky that you still have the opportunity to change your life. 

Life has never been easy for you, but you’re grateful for what you’ve been given. Moments of happiness, no matter how fleeting, shaped you into who you are now. Memories, shared with those you’ve come to love, giving you the morals and sense of purpose you have now.

You’ll keep those memories close to your heart, and let them lead you forward. They will shape the road ahead, and keep you going when the road is tough. That’s what you’ve decided. 

It’s never too late to change, never too late to be happy. You can take your life in your own two hands and shape it into what you desire. Life is what you make of it, and you’ve decided you’ll make it into the best it could possibly be.

And hopefully, in the future you create with your own hard work, Changbin will be there waiting for you. You’ll see his adoring smile and star-filled eyes, and know that it was all worth it. 

A knock on the door breaks you from the thoughts, and you rise to your feet to answer it. It’s a little strange, as Jeongin would normally just call you if he was here, but he also knows you are expecting him so maybe he didn’t feel the need. “Hey Innie, there you–” you start as you open the door, but the words immediately seize in your throat. 

You blink once, twice, assuming your eyes must be playing tricks on you. There’s no way Changbin is standing in front of you right now, right? Why would he be? “Y/N..” he says softly, a bit hesitant. He was feeling good when he first made the trek to your front door, but now that he’s here in front of you he feels.. Strange, almost. 

It’s surreal to be standing in front of you after all this time. He’s thought about it a lot; how you would look when you were finally in front of him again, what expression you might have and how you might have changed. And now, you are understandably looking at him like a deer in headlights. To say you are stunned would probably be an understatement. 

“Can I.. come in?” Changbin asks after another small moment. You want to speak, but you feel so astounded your voice won’t come out. So instead you nod, stepping to the side to allow him to enter your now barren apartment.

He looks around, taking in the sight of every single one of your tucked away into stacked boxes, with only your large furniture pieces still left out. This is what it would’ve looked like all those months ago too, if nothing had gone wrong and you moved in with him as planned. 

It strikes a pang in his chest, one that he attempts to choke down. He can’t let all his emotions bubble to the surface just yet. There are things he needs to tell you clearly, things he wants you to hear.

You guide him past boxes, motioning for him to take a seat on your sofa. “What, uhm– what are you doing here..?” you ask cautiously, not entirely sure how you should feel now that you are finally looking at him again. 

He hasn’t changed much; his dark, curly hair has grown a bit longer, his eyes are more tired, but overall he looks the same as he did months ago. Just as handsome too, you can’t help but notice. But really, how could you even hope to ignore that fact? You don’t think you’ll ever meet someone else as stunning as him. 

“Jeongin told me you’re leaving,” he answers, watching your expression change carefully. “H-He did?” Your shocked expression changes to sadness, gaze moving down to your hands, which you are wringing nervously. “I.. wanted to tell you myself, but.. I didn’t know how, or if I should..”

“I’m glad he told me,” Changbin replies, and you look back at him, uncertainty clear on your face. “I would’ve been sad if– if you left before I could tell you how I feel,” he continues.

“How you feel..?” you question, and he nods, a tentative, almost shy expression spreading across his features. “I’m sorry we haven’t spoken, I really am. I spent that entire time thinking about– thinking about us, and what I should do. What I want..” Changbin’s tone is relaxed as he can possibly make it despite the rapid beating in his chest. 

He takes a shaky inhale, palms sweating despite all his efforts to speak to you calmly. “I know what I want, and it’s you. It’s always been you. I just.. Took too long to sort that out, I think.” He confesses, watching you with bated breath as his words process within you. “I love you, and I– I hope I haven’t told you that too late.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes watering in an instant upon hearing those words you hoped so badly to hear again. “What about your job? And my family..?” you ask, and Changbin shakes his head, as if it’s not a concern in the slightest. “I know there are things we still have to figure out, but I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let you go without trying. I love you too much to let it go so easily.” 

The tears openly fall now, not being able to stop yourself from doing anything else. He opens his arms to you, offering his embrace if you want it, and you easily wrap yourself around him. He holds you close, your head pressing into his chest as sobs wrack your body.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he speaks to you softly, hands rubbing the soothing circles you missed so much into your skin. “I broke my promise to you before, but I’m not going to leave you again.”

He holds you like that until your breathing calms, the sobs slowing into gentle sniffles. You look up at Changbin, noticing that a few stray tear stains line his cheeks as well. He’s always hated seeing you cry, after all. The fact that it was because of him made it even harder for him to not become emotional himself.

“Binnie,” you breathe, leaning up to capture his lips in a soft kiss. He lets out a relieved sigh when your lips touch, his own flood of feelings washing over him. It feels so good to hold you in his arms again, to feel his lips against yours, to inhale the familiar scent of your shampoo.

Now that he has you again, he never wants to let you go. Whatever he has to do to keep you with him, he’ll do it, without a doubt. He realized that everything else in his life is replaceable. His career can be rebuilt from the ground up if necessary, and his home can be relocated. But not you– nothing can replace you. 

You are his home. You are his life. He knows his connection with you is deep and real. In the entire time he knew you, he never had to change a single thing about himself to please you. You always loved him for who he is, right from the start.

That’s what he needed then, and what he still needs now– someone who loves him unconditionally. Who accepts him in all his silly, eccentric idiosyncrasies. 

He kisses you over and over again, like you are the source of the oxygen he needs in his lungs. He holds you tightly, keeping your body glued to his, as if you’ll vanish if he lets go. “I’ve missed you so much. You have no idea how badly,” Changbin whispers against your skin, an action that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. It also makes you giggle a little in response, because wow, did you miss that feeling. 

He always made you shy and giddy so effortlessly. All it ever took was the slightest bit of affection from him to make you feel bubbly inside. Changbin smiles when he hears your soft laugh, a warmth he hasn’t felt in months spreading over him.

He hopes from now on he can hear you laugh every day, see your shy smiles and cute, sparkling eyes. He doesn’t know what his future with you holds, but as long as he has that he will be happy. 

“I’ve missed you more,” you tell him with a sweet smile. There’s part of you that still feels like this is all a vivid dream, and that you’ll wake up any minute in your new apartment by yourself. But even if it is a dream, you’ll enjoy it until the end. You’ll feel him under your palms for as long as you can, you’ll take in the sight of his beautiful face and the sound of his sweet voice.

You rest a hand on the nape of his neck, keeping him pulled close to you as you press kisses against his lips. The soft, gentle kisses that you shared at the start become deeper, more passionate, as they continue.

There’s a desperation bubbling within you, one that becomes increasingly more difficult to contain. You missed more than just the soothing, gentle touches to your skin– you also missed the way his hands could light a fire in you. 

He always made you feel alive, for lack of a better term. In all your life, through the various men who knew you and had touched you, none of them ever made you feel the way Changbin does. You’re not sure if he realizes entirely the effect he has on you, but you belong to him.

Body, heart, mind, soul, everything– it’s Changbin’s. His hold on you is warm, protective, and loving. You’ll never regret trusting him, loving him, or giving yourself to him. 

Changbin can tell where you are leading him, can see the way your eyes have changed when you pull away to breathe. It excites him as much as it worries him; once again, he’s afraid that touching you now will be taking advantage while you’re vulnerable.

You were just crying, dealing with and processing countless emotions, and the last thing he’d ever want is to be with you while your judgment is clouded. The last thing he’d ever want is to touch you in a moment of passion and learn you regretted it. 

“We don’t have to do this right now,” he tells you carefully. He wants you to be sure you still want him, that you still love him enough to do this with him. He can always wait, build back up to this slowly if that’s what you’d need. As long as he has forever with you, there’s no rush.

But you shake your head, meeting his gaze seriously. “I want to,” you assure him softly, “I never stopped loving you. I will always trust you.” You lean back in, lips brushing against his as you speak, “I still want you.”

A soft whine leaves Changbin's lips, your words having more of an effect on him than you'll ever know. Your next kiss is impassioned, mouth open and licking at his tongue. You coax him to pursue you, to swallow your heated breaths, explore you completely, consume you entirely. 

You let yourself fall backwards against the sofa, dragging Changbin down with you. It's not the most elegant display, nor is it seamless, but you don't really care about that. You've missed Changbin so much– his every look, every hold, and every sound. It's all you crave, all that matters in this moment. 

Not wanting to crush you or leave you in an uncomfortable contortion, Changbin spreads your legs and moves himself to rest between them. He attaches his lips to your neck, deciding you’ve gone long enough without his mark on your skin. You relish in the feeling of having his teeth sink into you again, excitement bubbling in your gut when you imagine the way you’ll look with his love bites all over you. 

His hands reach the bottom of your shirt, and you lift your back off the sofa to allow it to be pulled up and over your head. Your bra follows shortly after, being discarded to the floor and forgotten as your focuses are solely on eachother.

Changbin takes a moment to look you over, refamiliarizing himself with the appearance of your body and the intoxicating image of his teeth marks on your otherwise pure skin. He doesn’t get much more time to admire you however, as you begin to reach out for him.

You paw at the hem of his shirt, not so subtly requesting that he pull it off himself. He stifles the amused smile that threatens to peak out, pulling his shirt off in one swift movement. You look at him with equal parts adoration and desire, and he can’t deny he loves it when you look at him this way. 

Changbin watches your expression change however, when your gaze meets his arm. There was a fresh scar where your brother shot him– a now constant reminder of what the pair of you had gone through that day, a permanent representation of the way you failed the person you love most.. "Bin, I– '' you choke on your words, eyes tearing up as you stare at the spot. 

"Hey, look at me," Changbin says as he cups your face, directing your gaze back up to his own. "That's not your fault. You know that, right? It's not. Nothing is."

You struggle to hold back your sniffles, but he won't accept that; he needs you to know. You were in such a hard position, one that no one should have to be in. And he recognizes that now. He understands how hard it must have been to try to balance your life and protect the things you love.

He kisses you again, thumbs carefully rubbing away stray tears. “I love you,” he reminds you with his soft tone that always brought you comfort, “nothing changed that, okay?” You nod, believing his words entirely. You really had no reason not to; he’s always been so forthright and honest about everything he thinks and feels. 

“I love you,” you tell him, and he smiles, kissing you once more for good measure. “Do you still want to keep going?” he asks, once again feeling sparks of elation trickle down his spine when you eagerly confirm that you do. As much as Changbin loves seeing you be bashful and shy, he also loves when your enthusiasm overrides it, when you show the true depths of your need for him without restraint. 

The messy kisses to your skin resume, as if nothing interrupted them in the first place, the only difference now being that your upper body is completely exposed to him. Changbin’s hands trail slowly up and down your body, savoring the feeling of every soft dip and curve without any rush. Your gasp when his hands finally reach your breasts quickly turn into titillating mewls, nipples being tweaked and rolled between his fingers.

The sounds you make alone make Changbin want to moan, a salacious symphony in his ears, a siren’s song he can’t hope to ignore. He pulls back to look at you, watching the way your body twists and squirms, legs unable to close together due to his place between them.

“Binnie,” you whine, looking at him with glossy eyes and flushed cheeks, lips turned into a small pout. “What is it, honey? What do you need?” he asks, head tilting slightly as he grins at you.  

Your stomach flips, heart skipping a beat at both his tone, and from hearing the nickname for the first time in so long. You swallow, trying your best to conjure the words despite the way he looks at you making you want to combust on the spot.

“B-Bed?” you ask softly, and Changbin smiles with a nod, lifting you in his arms effortlessly. You lock your legs around his waist, arms snuggly wrapped around his neck as he carries you through the apartment. 

You really should let him focus on getting through the minefield of boxes that is your apartment currently, but instead you kiss him with a fervor he matches equally. Even when he threatens to stumble, neither of you break away, completely committed to keeping your mouths on each other. 

Luckily, you left your bedroom door open earlier, and Changbin has no problem carrying you through the doorway. You let yourself fall back onto the bed when he lets you go, and he positions himself between your legs once again, mirroring the position you were in moments ago on the sofa. 

Rather than wait for Changbin to take the lead on this like you normally would, you reach for shorts, pulling them down as far as you can before needing him to take care of the rest. He really can’t blame you for feeling needy and eager; he’s just as hungry for you as you are for him, his own desire and ache for you being contained solely by his (dwindling) self-restraint. 

You look at him, gaze possibly the most desperate he’s ever seen it be. Your body trembles with anticipation, begging for him to touch you. And while he’d love to prolong this moment, to lavish you slowly and tenderly, to watch you grow impatient as you yearn for more his touch in the places you need him most, he really can’t wait either. 

More accurately, he doesn’t want to wait. He knows he can hold back, he knows he can restrain himself if he needs to, he knows he can do things slowly, but if neither of you can wait, if you’re both desperately reaching out for one another, then why draw it out? He knows what you want, and he wants to give it to you.

"I want to watch you cum," Changbin tells you, voice nearly a whisper in your ears. "Over, and over," he continues, your body shivering in response as you watch him trail downward. “You want that, right? To cum for me?” he asks rhetorically. He already knows the answer, but he wants you to say it anyway. 

“Y-Yes, please,” you all but whine, and he smiles, licking his lips and wasting no further time talking. He pushes your thighs further apart, hooking his arms underneath to hold them in place. You let out a loud moan when his mouth finds your clit, his grip on your thighs stopping you from squirming or closing your legs around his head. 

He’s barely even begun but you already feel like the air has been knocked from your lungs, the pleasure making you feel dizzy. Your hands reach for his hair, the groan that leaves his mouth when you pull making you shiver. Various obscenities leave your mouth as he alternates between licking and sucking, your legs already shaking as your high approaches dangerously fast.

It’s been months since you felt his tongue on you, and with his skill it was obvious you’d cum fast. You couldn’t hope to delay it even if you wanted to. His pace is perfect, remembering just how you like it as if there was never a break between you to begin with. You bite your lip, trying in vain to quiet the whimpers and moans that leave you as your high overtakes your body. 

Even as your high recedes, Changbin doesn’t relent, keeping his pace on your clit as if nothing happened. You whine loudly, overstimulation setting fire to your skin. His strong hold on you prevents you from moving even an inch, all you can do is lie there and continue to take the onslaught of overwhelming, almost painful, pleasure. 

Not wanting to hurt his scalp with your harsh tugging, you move your hands to the bedsheets, clawing at them desperately. He squeezes your thighs in his hands, as if to ground you while he unrelentingly showers your clit with his affection. Your second orgasm comes even faster than the first somehow, back arching and eyes rolling back as your body tenses and releases in an instant. 

As before, he continues through it, drawing it out and making you whine loudly when it quickly becomes too much to bear. Your arousal is practically gushing out of you, and you finally get a small moment of reprieve when Changbin moves to lick the cum from your hole. Your breathing is ragged, chest heaving and body buzzing. 

Changbin removes one of his hands from your thigh, moving it to easily slide two of his fingers into your heat. You let out another choked gasp, his fingers wasting no time to locate your sweet spot and rub against it. “B-Binnie,” you stutter out between gasps, “I-I cant.” It’s almost too good, your brain reeling when he starts to thrust his fingers into you quickly.

He looks up at you, an almost playful glint behind the lust-filled look in his eyes. “Yes you can,” he encourages sweetly, letting go of your other leg to come closer to your face. He’s looking at you intently now, smiling as he watches you succumb to the pleasure you’re feeling. Your head is thrown back, nails digging into the bedsheet and bottom lip trapped between your teeth. 

“Look at me,” he says, and he feels you clench tightly around his fingers when you do. His lustful expression makes you weak, his smile making your gut want to erupt into butterflies. You try to keep his gaze, to not close your eyes or look away, but it’s so hot you can barely stand it. You don’t think you’ll be able to handle much more of it without devolving into insanity. 

You cum again, legs closing around his fingers and head falling back as you do. “Good girl, my good girl,” he praises you through it, slowing to a stop once he feels your body begin to relax. He gives you some time to catch your breath after he slides his fingers out of you, licking them clean before he stands from the bed. You watch as he finally removes his pants and boxers, and then returns to his position between your legs. 

“I'm going to fuck you now,” he tells you, smiling when you let out a shy whine in response. Changbin lines himself up with your entrance, leaning down to kiss you as he slides in. The multiple orgasms make it easier for your body to accept him, the stretch still stinging but not at all bad.

He kisses you sweetly, always enjoying doing so while you got used to the feeling of his cock, loved making you taste yourself on his tongue as you acclimated to his size. 

It didn’t take long for you to roll your hips against his, seeking blissful friction. “Baby just can’t wait?” Changbin asks teasingly, though he has to admit he loves it. If you weren’t so dazed from pleasure, you’d see he’s just as desperate as you, if not more so. He loves when you are as equally needy as him, when you become lost in him and how he makes you feel. 

“You want to cum again, is that it?” he asks when he begins to finally thrust into you. “Y-Yes, want to cum,” you nod almost frantically, “want you to come too.” Changbin groans, your words always having an incredible effect on him. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll cum for you,” he promises as he picks up his pace, finding his rhythm with relative ease.

One hand holds yours while the other moves to your clit, rubbing it in circles. He whispers praises to you, each one making you clench around him. “Good girl, my perfect baby, doing so well, feels so good around me, love you,” he begins to babble as he chases his orgasm. He expected not to last long, but he’ll make sure it’s good for you until the end. 

If your neighbors weren’t concerned before, they definitely are now given how loud your voice is carrying through the apartment. You can’t hold them back anymore, not that Changbin would let you in the first place, but you’re too far gone to care. His once steady pace quickly grows sloppy, his low moans turning into high pitched, breathy whimpers. 

You reach your high first, mouth hanging open in a silent moan as your body quivers beneath his. Changbin follows closely behind, his hips stuttering as his cum shoots into you in hot spurts. You reach up, pulling him into one more kiss as he comes down from his high. His body relaxes, falling against you, though still careful not to crush you under his weight. 

His head rests just under yours, and you kiss his temple, hand running through his hair lazily. “I love you,” you mumble, exhaustion clear in your voice.

Your eyes are closed, your movements slow, and Changbin finds it so endearing that even in this state you want to show your love. “I love you too baby, so much,” he kisses your cheek, as it’s the only place he can reach without moving from his spot. 

He’ll take care of you soon, get the both of you cleaned up so you can sleep in his arms peacefully as you always did before, but for now, even if it’s just for a few moments, he wants to lay next to you. To hold your hand as the two of you catch your breath, to stare at your beautiful face, to feel the euphoria of having you as his.

He doesn't know what the future holds, but he’s decided that it's okay. He doesn’t need to hold every answer in his hands, or worry about could be’s and what if’s. He doesn’t know if this happiness will continue, if you’ll always be together without anything getting in your way, but how can he be satisfied with his life if he didn’t try? How can he be happy if he lives his life complacently? 

Maybe the smart decision would have been to let you go, to never see you again and let yourselves go separate ways, but would he be content with that decision? Could he say he would never lie awake at night wondering if that was the right thing to do, or if he should’ve chosen differently? And if two things make him happy, does he really have to choose between them? Would it really be so bad to have both? 

Nothing will be perfect, ever. No one is promised eternal joy, or a blessed life. No one can spend every moment happy, no one can have everything always go the way they want. The only guarantee in life is that you will suffer– but it is what you do with that suffering that shapes what your life will become from that point onward. 

Maybe what he has now with you is fleeting. Maybe years from now it’ll crumble in front of him all over again. But isn’t it worth fighting for? If he has a chance to have everything he’s ever wanted, shouldn’t he do his best to take it? Shouldn’t he keep it in his hands, and protect it with all his might? 

Even if it’s in vain, even if he’ll only suffer again in the future, this moment of happiness with you is worth it. Listening to your slowed breathing, feeling your skin against his, knowing that you love him and he loves you– it’s worth it. When he wakes up to your sweet voice, hears your elated laugh, sees your adorable expressions and beautiful body, it’s worth it. 

Maybe you’ll live together in the future, and maybe you won't. Maybe you’ll have a family, and maybe you won’t. Maybe his career will remain unaffected, or maybe it won’t. Regardless of what could or couldn’t be, he won’t live with doubt.

He can be happy knowing he fought to keep you until the very end, if the end ever comes. He can live a life full of laughter and love, even if it’s only for a finite amount of time. And nothing will be perfect, ever, but as long as Changbin has you with him, it’s the closest he’ll ever have.

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 1/?

× Elysium (noun) : a place or condition of ideal happiness. type of: fictitious place, imaginary place, mythical place.

Word Count: 4.1k

An introduction of sorts.

A Noah Sebastian x OC Series

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah and his new found (sort of) friend, Persephone, battle the trivial ins and outs of being teenagers in a world that doesn't accept you. They survive together all the way into adulthood - with bouts of loneliness included - where the world is still a fickle bitch.

× Warnings!: language, violence, slowburn, friends to lovers to enemies back to friends, rinse and repeat (not even in that order), eventual smut, sexual themes, etc. Each chapter will have its own set of separate warnings.

× Author Notes: ( 1 ) Any time within the story before 2016, Persephone is still a minor, therefor sexual mentions will be kept brief and to a minimum. Nothing crude will be mentioned in a descriptive manner until she is 18+ in the story. ( 2 ) Piggybacking off of that, Noah is only two years older than her. ( 3 ) Since most personal facts about the guys are not widely known, I will be adding my own background info to them, as well as switching up/deleting real life facts we may already be aware of.

× Chapter Warnings!: language, brief sexual themes

SUMMER OF 2014

SUNDAY JUNE 22nd

PERSEPHONE

Summers in Virginia could be brutal, but this one in particular felt especially heinous. The sun was a vile orb that beat down on her skin, leaving it hot to the touch and also faintly shining with perspiration. Typically she loved the sun and the way it would make her feel, but today? Well, not so much. Despite this, she tried her best to ignore her own minuscule issues and instead focus on the words being spoken to not only her, but also the friends she surrounded herself with. They all sat around one of the outside tables at Ruffilo’s, a casual diner-like restaurant they enjoyed frequenting in the afternoons. The food was decent, and it was also one of the only establishments that wouldn't kick out teenagers who lingered too long. 

“Seph? Earth to, Seph! Come in, Seph!”

“Huh?” She was quick to snap out of her little daze, her head turning towards the voice echoing her name. Maisie Linwood, her best friend since first grade, stared back at her with an arched brow and an annoyed expression. One thing to know about Maisie, she could out bitch anyone with just a cut of her eyes. Persephone figured that's probably who she picked up the same habit from years ago. 

“Sorry, it's just really hot out here.” A hand was then shoved into her now empty glass to retrieve a piece of ice, that of which she began to drag along the back of her neck. 

Ahhh, yes, that was nice. 

“Okay, well, I need you to, like, be here with us. We're trying to figure out the details of Mason’s birthday.” 

Mason being Maisie’s twin brother, and this was quite obvious when you were to look at them. Same eyes, same nose, same little beauty mark right off to the side of their cheek. Same godforsaken ‘better than thou’ attitude. And yes, they were fully aware of how horrible being named Maise and Mason was. 

“Oh, right, I won't be able to go. I told you that. My parents are making me go with them to the lake that weekend.” 

The ice continued to drag along her overheated skin, now shifting to the front of her neck and down her chest. Could she at least get a breeze or something? Fuck.

“Or…you can tell them you don't want to and then we can have the party at your place.” Maisie challenged with a smug smirk, as if daring anyone to tell her otherwise. “Your house does have the best pool.” 

There it was. Maisie’s way of getting the things she wanted by catering to people’s egos. She wanted to say that it never worked on her, but then she would be lying. 

“What the fuck are you staring at, freak? Are you seriously checkin’ out my girl?” 

Thankfully, the topic was abruptly changed by Mason’s sudden outburst of anger. By the way, she was dating Mason. Kind of. It wasn't technically official…but whatever. Honestly, she didn't care one way or the other. 

“I…uh…no! I was just-”

Seph squinted from the bright glare of the sun off the side of the restaurant when she turned to see what all the fuss was about. She could make out the tall figure of the guy who had been serving them, a dumbfounded look currently overtaking his narrow features. It seemed as if she wasn't the only one surprised by Mason’s show of aggression. 

“Wait, what's happening?” She sat forward a bit, a hand lifting to shield over her eyes to get a better look at the commotion. Mason was now standing a couple of feet from the guy, obviously ready to go if the moment called for it. Seph could only heavily sigh, eyes rolling at his embarrassing and rather annoying reaction to…whatever had happened. That was something she still hadn't caught. 

“Scrawny little freak here was just staring at you, Seph. Watching you with that fucking ice!”

Ah, so that's what the problem was? Seriously? 

“I was just coming out to get the glass for a refill…” he tried to defend, but there was no knocking any sense into Mason when he got started. Just another trait him and Maisie shared, and one that she truly disliked. 

“Leave him alone, Mason. Can you just let him do his job?” 

Her intrusion of the conversation had given the guy a spare moment to scurry away, jaw clenched and head shaking as he did. She felt bad for him because she knew how aggravating it could be to be on the receiving end of Mason’s teenage rage, even more so when it came to his possessive nature over something that wasn't his. 

“You're really going to defend him, Seph?” 

Mason was now looking at her, hands thrown out to his sides in a stance of disbelief. She merely shrugged, giving him a ‘who cares?’ look before settling back in her seat. It didn't seem as if he was as capable of dropping the topic as she was, so he continued to stand there…just staring in anger. She could almost see the fumes radiating off his head like he was a furious little cartoon character. 

Hilarious. 

With a heavy sigh, Seph snatched her glass from the table and stood up, free hand simultaneously adjusting the hem of her shorts. “I'm going to get my refill and no, I don't need your help.” She spat at Mason, earning a scoff from Maisie and another girl within their friend group. It didn't bother her in the slightest. 

Inside Ruffilo’s was at least twenty degrees cooler, and it felt so nice that she actually sighed in relief. The lack of sun now beating down on her had given her the opportunity to clear the haze from her mind and really take note of the situation. She realized that she recognized the guy as she approached the counter…but from where? With his back to her, Seph began to silently rack her brain. He was talking in hushed tones to another guy that appeared to be about the same age, but shorter and with darker hair. Something was telling her that it was his family who owned the restaurant, though she wasn’t entirely sure as to how she knew that. 

The shorter guy looked at her from over the other guy’s shoulder, quickly nodding in her direction to signal her presence to him. As he turned, she adjusted her attention and their eyes locked with ease. 

“Hey…” she softly spoke, a slight smile pulling at her lips. “I'm sorry about Mason…he can be a real dick sometimes.” 

“Yeah…I kind of gathered that.”

Seph slowly nodded, unsure of what to say now. She tore her gaze from his, allowing it to fall down to the glass she still held. Did she even want a refill? Or had this been some ploy against herself to give the guy an apology? 

The clearing of his throat garnered her attention again, and she looked up just in time to see him motioning towards the glass. “Did you want a refill?” 

Once more nodding, she pulled the straw from the glass before extending it out to him. Her arms crossed over her chest now, the end of the straw being held to her lips for her to absentmindedly chew on as she waited. Seph could feel eyes on her, the weight of them rather obvious. Glancing up, she noticed the other guy eying her, as if trying to size her up. 

Where did she know them from? 

Then, like a light switch being turned on, it finally clicked. 

“Noah,” she pointed the end of her straw to the taller guy, nodding. “We used to go to school together, right?” 

It was all finally starting to come back to her. She knew she had recognized him from somewhere, though putting her finger on it took longer than she would've thought. Seph had left their public high school after freshmen year, her parents instead deciding to enroll her into a new private school that had been built. ‘It’s where all your friends will be going' they tried to explain to her, like she really needed convincing when she knew she didn't have a choice in the matter to begin with. 

“Uh, yeah, I think I was a year ahead of you.”

Noah nodded as he passed her now full glass of water back her way, fresh ice included. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was quickly cut off by the other guy. 

“Two years…we were two years ahead of her.” 

“Dude…” Noah sighed, giving his friend a look that she wasn't quite sure how to explain. 

Persephone softly chuckled, brows raised while looking back and forth between the two guys. As much as she wanted to stand there within the air conditioning, watching the two of them bicker, she knew she couldn't linger for much longer. It was only a matter of time before one of her friends came looking for her and the last thing she wanted was for another scene to break out. 

“Okay, well, I'm going to go and leave you guys to it.” She took a sip from her water, though her smile lingered. “Sorry again about…”

Noah shook his head, waving it off in a nonchalant manner. “Dicks will forever be dicks.” 

“I'll see you around, yeah?” After taking a couple of steps backwards, Seph then turned on her heel to make a beeline for the side door she had previously entered from. 

“I'm Nick, by the way!” 

Another laugh easily flowed from her, a hand lifting to wave back. “Bye, Nick!”

NOAH

“Persephone Hill, Noah? Really?” 

“What?”

“Dude, she's like fucking royalty of Richmond. Her dad is some big real estate guy, owns half the buildings on this street alone.” 

“And?” Noah looked to his best friend after having passed a receipt to another patron of the restaurant and wishing them a good day. “Just because her dad is some big shot, that means I can't talk to her?” 

“No, but it does mean you can't fucking ogle her goodies out in public.” 

He grimaced at Nick’s choice of words but tried his best to laugh it off, head shaking. “I wasn't…doing that!” Noah tossed the balled up unwanted receipt at Nick with enough force that it hit him square in the forehead, but bounced off to roll along the floor. “Who the hell says it like that anyway?”

Okay, maybe he had been doing that. Who could blame him, though? He took in a sharp breath as he tried to think of anything but the way the melted ice had dripped down her neck, getting lost behind her tank top as it slid into her cleavage. Fuck. Noah did a discreet tug of his jeans when the memory caused a stirring within, instead opting to focus on the hot plates of food that were being slid his way for distribution to tables. 

“I'm just saying, okay? My dad had done business with him a couple of years back and said he's a major asshole. Never say I didn't warn you.” 

THURSDAY JUNE 26th

PERSEPHONE 

“You look like you could use a sugar rush.”

A set of long fingers set down a stereotypical milkshake glass in front of her, the contents of it a deep pink color. Her brows furrowed in slight confusion for a split second, before she finally looked up to see Noah standing there. He appeared to be just as tired as she felt, though she decided to not call him out for it. Instead, she offered a slight smile of appreciation. 

“How could you tell?” She joked while ripping the paper from the straw before shoving it into the milkshake. “And how did you know strawberry was my favorite?” 

“Well, you see…” he rubbed at the back of his neck after glancing at where Nick stood behind the counter. “Nick used all the chocolate syrup earlier for some little kids, so I couldn't do chocolate. Vanilla seemed too basic, which left strawberry as the only option. I guess you could say…I just got lucky?” 

Seph gave him a single thumbs up, her mouth now occupied with the sugary treat she was happily sipping. “This might just be the pick-me-up I needed to get through this work, so thanks.” 

“Yeah, I thought it was kind of late for you to be here.” 

“Shit, sorry. Are you guys about to close? I can totally pack things up if so.” She licked over her lips to rid them of any milkshake remnants before she began to reach for her things. Noah held his hands out, motioning for her to stop, chuckling to himself as he did. 

“You're good, you're good. I promise. Still got about an hour.”

That was when Nick came sauntering over, a basket of fries in his hand that he was digging through. He leaned against the side of the booth, bright eyes glancing back and forth between herself and Noah. 

“It typically dies down around eight on weekdays, so there isn't shit to do for a bit.” Nick then nodded towards the math equations she had written out on her notebook, still chomping away at his fries. “Calculus? Wouldn't a library be better for homework?” 

Noah sighed, an elbow angling out just a bit to nudge at his friend. Again the two shared a silent look, almost like they were having a conversation within their minds that she wasn't privy to. 

“You would think, but the private rooms are always booked and most people don't know that you're supposed to be quiet in libraries. Shocking, right?” 

“I bet your house has a grand ol' study area.”

What was Nick getting at? She couldn't really tell if he was genuinely asking or if he was somehow mocking her in his own sly way. Considering Noah's silence, Seph was going to assume it was the latter. 

“Uh…” her hands rubbed along the top of her thighs, eyes glancing along her math work that was all beginning to jumble together. “It's too quiet there…makes it just as hard to focus.”

Also, the change of scenery was nice. She was tired of seeing the same walls everyday in her house, and trying to study at any of her friends’ homes would've been just as impossible.  They would've become too distracted with gossip and mindless chatter. 

“Hey, Nick,” she began as the end of her pencil lightly tapped against her notebook. “Can I get an order of fries too? Thanks.” If he wanted to throw a bit of mockery her way, then she would gladly do the same with her own style of attitude. The bittersweet kind where she was smiling, but her words held a slight hint of venom. Nick paused, his chewing beginning to slow as they merely stared at one another. Without another word, he nodded, and then went off to get her order prepared. 

“He's sensitive, you know,” Noah joked, pointing in the direction his friend had wandered off. 

“Oh, I'm sure he can manage to get what he gives.” 

Persephone adjusted the pencil in her hand, now beginning to continue her work. She didn't know why she was even attempting to because there was no way she’d be able to focus. Her attention span had run out at least an hour ago, and not even a strawberry milkshake could bring it back. As she pretended to work, Noah was doing the same. He began to clean the tables in her surrounding area, his lanky tattooed arms drawing her attention in ways she never thought possible. Seph remained silent, though she found herself watching him. Why? She had no idea. Noah was far from her type, or at least what she assumed her type was, but it wasn't like she was interested to begin with. Maybe he would make a decent friendly acquaintance — someone she could say ‘hi’ to on the street in passing. 

“Did those hurt?” Seph motioned with her pencil to his arm, his tattoos being the topic of her curiosity. 

Noah glanced to the limb, his shoulders shrugging nonchalantly. “Nah, not too bad. Nothing I wouldn't be able to handle again.” 

She slowly nodded, the end of her pencil now tucked between her teeth. She continued to allow her gaze to travel along the designs before taking in a deep breath and lowering her attention back down to her dreaded calculus. Ugh, this was almost like she was torturing herself. 

“Do you have any?”

“Hm?” Seph glanced up through her lashes at him. 

“Tattoos. Do you have any?” 

This inquiry caused her to snort out a laugh, now fully looking across at Noah in disbelief. He must not know anything about her family, and she was actually thankful for this. It was so annoying to have to talk to people who thought they already knew everything about you, when really, they knew nothing. 

“No,” she finally replied, shaking her head. “My parents are very old school. They said that my body is a temple and if I desecrate it in any way then I'm not allowed my trust fund or inheritance.” 

“Well…shit. That's brutal.” 

Persephone shrugged, the notebook before her now being closed since she figured she wasn't going to be getting any more work done. Not that she was complaining. “Yeah, it's a little fucked. I mean, my mom won't even let me have more than two holes in my ears.” 

“Sounds like some high standards to live up to.”

Noah's words caught her a little off guard. Her lips pursed as she carefully slipped her belongings into her bag, situating everything just right so they'd sit correctly. She didn't say anything in regards to the statement, mostly because she wasn't sure how to respond, but also because Nick had dropped the basket of fries in front of her. Persephone flashed him a wide grin, her fingers picking up one of the crispy fries to bite the end off. 

“You're a peach, truly.” 

FRIDAY JULY 4th

NOAH

This was not how he saw the night going. It had been change up after change up, until his plans had been ruined and he was forced to work another shift at Ruffilo’s. He didn't complain, though, at least not to anyone but himself. The last thing he wanted was to seem ungrateful for what Nick’s family had done for him, and what they continued to do everyday. He knew you'd never find another family as giving as Nick’s, so he did all he could to help them out, even if it meant canceling his plans. Nick offered to work with him, but Noah refused. It wasn't going to be busy since they didn't serve alcohol, so with it being Independence Day, the majority of Richmond would be out at the fireworks and then partying with a beer. Just as their forefathers would've wanted. 

And just as he had predicted, it was dead by seven that night. Fireworks started around eight, waiting just long enough for the sky to get mostly dark. Noah could see the flashes of light from over the buildings, which he stood and stared at for much longer than anticipated. There was a pressure building within his chest, though. He could feel his hands becoming clammy and the rapid beating of his heart picking up more and more. He had to force himself to look away from the fireworks and start doing something else — anything to occupy his mind. Ever since the accident, bright lights and loud noises had been a trigger for him. He was working through it with his therapist weekly, but the progression was slow. Much slower than he would've liked. 

Phone in hand, Noah stood in the kitchen of the restaurant, now mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. It helped calm his mind to see senseless things that people posted on their socials, and the things he was interested in, did well as a distraction. There was one distraction in particular he hadn't seen coming, though. Only a day or so previous, Persephone had insisted they follow each other. She had thousands of followers, while he only had a couple hundred, so he figured it was no big deal. Maybe she liked having a huge audience studying and judging her social life. But because of their mutual following, he was now graced with her presence on his Instagram timeline. 

Noah swallowed as he came across the picture. She appeared happy, wearing a wide smile that took up most of her face, clad in the typical red, white, and blue colors for this particular holiday. In her hands, she held sparklers, both of which were situated up towards the sky with the pose she took in front of a pool. Others were seen behind her, one of which he recognized as Mason, the asshole from before. This was when Noah closed out of the app, his phone then being tucked away in his back pocket. 

The next couple of hours went by rather slowly. He had maybe three patrons come in, but none that lingered for longer than necessary. Still, he took his time cleaning up and closing, even opting to tell the cook he could leave and he’d finish up. Nick had called him a couple of times, the voices of their friends obvious in the background, and he of course promised to drop by once he was off. Despite this, he didn't rush. After his near panic attack earlier, Noah just wanted to go home and lay in bed. 

Unfortunately, he would have to wait a bit longer before being able to. 

It was nearly eleven when he heard knocking on the front door of the restaurant. All the lights were off except those over the kitchen, so he had no idea why someone would think they were open. Did that stop him from poking his head out to see who it was? No. And this is why people die in horror movies. He was a walking cliché. 

There was another knock, this one slightly louder than the last. Heavily sighing, Noah took a couple of slow steps towards the kitchen opening that led out into the main area, his upper body leaning over just enough for him to see straight forward. Standing outside was a rather familiar shape, the white dress being the first thing that caught his eye. He remembered it from his Instagram scroll hours prior. 

Seph? 

Noah rushed towards the front and wasted no time in unlocking the door for her, which he then held open. In walked the young blonde, her arms hugging herself. She no longer wore the smile from the picture earlier, but instead her cheeks were stained with glittery tears due to the festive makeup she had applied. 

“Shit, Noah, I'm sorry. I- I didn't know where else to go or who I could talk to and I just- I saw your car and-”

Shaking his head, he placed his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to soothe and calm her ramblings. She tried a deep breath, but the hiccups from her tears prevented her from fully doing so. 

“Hey, no, it's okay. What's wrong? What happened?” 

The fact that Persephone had come to him was shocking, to say the least. Were they friends? He wasn't sure if he would label them as such, but maybe it was different for her. They did have long conversations every time she came to the diner, which just so happened to be picking up in frequency ever since the ice incident. 

“Mason and I…we got into a fight…” she sniffed, further fighting back her tears just so she could properly breathe. 

What was it about this asshole type that girls seemed to flock to? He would never understand it. 

“He, um…he was just really mean, yeah? He blew up at me…caused this huge scene in front of everyone. It was so fucking embarrassing.” 

Noah could tell she was holding something back, but he wasn't going to pry. If Seph didn't want to tell him the full story, then she didn't have to. Either way, he would be there for her as much as she would allow. 

Nodding, his thumbs rubbed slowly along the bare skin of her shoulders that he still grasped. He eventually led her to a booth and brought her a glass of water, giving her as much time as she needed to gather herself. Although he wanted to know what actually happened, he knew this wasn't the time for it. 

“Are you okay?” Noah finally asked after a few minutes. Her tears had ceased, but he noticed how she was still absentmindedly scratching at the side of her thigh. He knew an anxiety tick when he saw one. After all, he had plenty of his own. 

Without answering, Seph finally looked at him. “Would you be able to take me home? Please?”

CHAPTER TWO JUMP

[elysisticism]

Dear Queer Kids: It Doesn’t Get Better

The news cycle from the past few months could break your heart, over and over and over again. It consistently spits out stories of our community’s most painful incidents of directed hate, in violent and gory detail. And there’s a new one every time you turn around.

Lately, the theme has been transphobic fear mongering and increased restriction on an even more vulnerable subset: trans youth. The vitriol has always been there, it just wasn’t always so blatantly acted upon, especially so close to home. The hate speech has moved from whispers behind closed doors to shouts in the street, to the mouths of our politicians, to the ink spilled out on our legislation. The consequences are dire: suicide, assault, murder.

This pride month, as I reflect on the past year, I remember the tragic assault and subsequent death of Nex Benedict, a 15-year-old non-binary student just trying to use the school bathroom. I am reminded of my days as a queer and trans kid. It has been over a decade since I was stuck attending public school, but I vividly remember the uncertainty, the fear, and the hopelessness. When my carefully built scaffolding of adult queer life is stripped away, these are the emotions that remain.

At that time, there was a popular campaign, mostly by out gay celebrities like Ellen DeGeneres (we didn’t have a lot of visible trans adults back then) featuring them assuring queer kids, from their mansions, sports cars, or Hollywood sets, that it gets better. I remember the sentiment ringing quite hollow. When you are so immensely vulnerable and in pain in the very present moment, it doesn’t help hearing that it will get better in some far-off imaginary future. We didn’t know if we’d survive until then.

Now, reflecting on the last ten years from a vantage point above the chaos of teenage life, it would still ring hollow. You need to know that it doesn’t get better – it gets different.

As a non-binary teenager, one of my biggest hurdles wasn’t hate, it was invisibility. It may be because of my privilege as a less feminine, middle-class white kid, or my propensity to people-please, stay quiet, and focus on academics, but I was rarely a victim of deliberate and directed transphobia or discrimination. This doesn’t mean that those teenage years were easy for me. Invisibility comes with its own set of hardships: constant misgendering, gaslighted excuses for why it was ‘too difficult to understand,’ and a reputation as the ‘weird kid’ ate at me each day, nibble by nibble. Illegibility shielded me from targeted violence, but it also shielded my true self from the world. From underneath the covers, I could peak out at a world that was barely beginning to accept cisgender gay couples, and pretend to be asleep (deny my truth and project myself as girl) when the wrong type of attention was drawn, dreaming of a time when it would get better, and I would be recognized for who I am.

Slowly, the transgender community has gained societal awareness through campaigns, media attention, and the hard work of queer activists. However, not all attention is good attention. With an increase in general dialogue surrounding the transgender community has come an increase in hateful dialogue, misinformation, bigoted rhetoric, and violent actions. To be clear, the hate is not new: gender non-conformity has been seen as unacceptable for generations of Western society. However, the hate has evolved and gained traction amongst those who can use it for their own gain.

In the present moment, hate against such a miniscule but exposed minority of the general population is a rallying point, a dog-whistle, and a distraction. Fueled by disinformation, purposeful misunderstandings, and exaggerated or blatantly false claims, transgender people have become a common enemy. To the loudest of our critics, we never were individual humans with unique actions, aspirations, and lives we are attempting to live free of violence. Instead, we symbolize an attack on the status quo and everyone who belongs to it or benefits from it. Truly, I do not believe that most people have an ingrained motive to hate our community; what they hate is the feelings of vulnerability that emerge within themselves as a reaction to societal changes beyond their control. Spurred on by certain faith leaders, politicians, and influencers, they have turned this fear into anger and have directed it those more marginalized than themselves.

The consequences of this movement are now beginning to come to fruition. Transgender youth looking to participate in sports, get an education, or merely go to the bathroom face a barrage of restrictions, discrimination, and violence. The most vulnerable members of our community who do not experience outright beatings will absorb the environment of hate that has seeped into our institutions and transform it into self-loathing. At best, self-loathing shuts tight and locks the closet door, preventing queer kids from ever experiencing and sharing their true selves. At worst, self-loathing turns to careless risk-taking, self-harm, and suicide. Simply put, transphobia on the societal level leads to trans death again and again and again.

Perhaps this age-old song of hate will decrescendo, but it will always be audible in the background of our lives. The privileged fearful will find a new victim-enemy, re-concentrate on another vulnerable group, and begin to ignore us once again. Then, just as we did after the second world war, after the government purge, and after the HIV/AIDS crisis we will quietly emerge from the shadows, take stock of our circumstances, mourn our dead, and continue to live. We will learn their new rhetoric, we will educate a new generation, and we will advocate for the most vulnerable amongst us. We will survive again and again and again.

It doesn’t get better - it gets different. Yet we adapt to this difference every time and every time we continue to survive.

But if it doesn’t get better, if the hate continues to circulate, evolving and reforming each time, why must we endure? Why should our community, and our youth, continue to subject themselves to the same violence experienced by our queer ancestors?

Queer youth of today, you must know that there is more to life than perpetual hate. The storm may rage around us, but there will be moments where you find yourself in the eye. When you finally put on that item of clothing and the mirror reflects back the true essence of who you are; when you find the group of friends and chosen family that stick with you, no matter what; when you look your partner in the eye and spark that feeling of belonging, feeling of home.

These islands of queer joy sustain us, nurture us, and remind us of why we fight again and again and again.

You don’t need to listen to those privileged celebrities in their mansions, sports cars, and Hollywood sets telling you it gets better in some distant future. You also don’t need to listen to the hate-mongering faith-leaders, politicians, and influencers. What you need, and what I know is out there for you, is a community of allies, peers, and queer elders that will assure you that you are welcome, just the way you are.

This is how we continue in the face of hate, violence, and death. We gather – in secret, in public, online, in person, covertly, in colourful displays, at protests, at memorials, out loud, and in whispers. We find each other and we hold fast to one another, we support each other, we care for each other, and we ensure our own survival.

I must tell you that it doesn’t get better. The hate never goes away. But you will grow into a community of resilience, a community of hope, and a community fueled by moments of your very own queer joy.

[seaweedstarshine]

~●~🥺~mother and daughter ~🥺~●~

[twitterrefug33]

Hello, I come from another social media where I've already posted this longer than a week ago. I'm not really active on my Tumblr because sometimes I forget I have it and I'm like "Wait... I forgot to post this on tumblr.."

So, I find the entire plot of slendytubbies to be kind of confusing. I feel like it is really fast paced, there's some unexplained parts of the story(doesn't help that it's not getting continued either) and some other things, so I've just been wanting to rewrite it.

For starters, I'm going to give my interpretation of shadow tubbie, because I do feel like he's an important character however we'll never be able to find out why. His story is based off of a theory I had on amino(💀) in 2021, where he's not really your enemy, more of a warning about the infection.

Anyways, here's my version of shadow tubbie! 🖤

Shadow Tubbie, instead of just being called "Shadow Tubbie" has been renamed to Scáth which fun fact, means "Shadow", "Shade" or "Phantom" in Irish. He's only referred to as "The Shadow" or "Nightmare" when being referred to in his infected form.

Due to his random appearance in game confusing me (and the fact that we don't get a continuation of the story) I wanted to make his involvement with Laa Laa and The Guardian make sense. I made it so that in my version of slendytubbies, he was originally supposed to be the main four's father/parental figure. (He also raised them with a character I made who will be introduced later)

Sadly, he only got to raise Tinky until he was ten and Laa Laa and Dipsy when they became three years old. (Po was just born when he became infected) Why? Well, the scientists that created the Teletubbies had become suspicious as they were working with Noo Noo to create dosages to start off the infection. Scáth became distasteful of the scientists and he started to become extremely overprotective of his children. The scientists didn't like this as Scáth would have more violent behaviors towards the scientists, and they knew this would influence his children.

Eventually, they forcefully seperated Scáth from Tinky, Laa Laa, and Dipsy to test their dosages on him, making Scáth the first victim of the infection. They wiped Tinky's memories of him as he was the oldest, and assumed that Laa Laa and Dipsy didn't need it as they were toddlers and probably wouldn't remember anyways. Unfortunately for them, Laa Laa had hyperthymesia so she had small glimpses of memories of Scáth. Once Scáth became Shadow Tubbie, he knew of this information. When Laa Laa was old enough, he started to send messages to her inside of her dreams. Laa Laa was frightened by his appearance and didn't like the environment of where her dreams were set, so Scáth tried so hard to be less menacing towards her. He has tried melting his legs to be less taller, playing fond memories of hers on his TV screen (on his stomach), helped her create her imaginary friend ghost girl so Laa Laa could get more used to the environment and be braver, etc. However, none of it worked and she still has constant nightmares. He wanted to warn her about the infection, however he could only communicate through glimpses of imagery.

After Scáth was seperated from them, they replaced him with The Guardian. Unfortunately, The Guardian wasn't allowed to be close to them, as they knew that if he was, he would've had a similar reaction to Scáth. Since he was already obedient towards the scientists, they made him observe the Teletubbies from a far distance inside of his secret lair. Scáth also knew this, so he decided to send warning signals towards The Guardian the same way with how he did with Laa Laa. The Guardian was more understanding, knowing something was wrong however, he was bit confused. This is why Scáth appears more frequently in Laa Laa's dreams instead of Guardian's, because The Guardian already has an idea on what's going on.

Scáth unfortunately doesn't recognize that his visions are mentally exhausting, as they serve more as a nightmare rather than a warning. Although, his images are frequent enough to send some form of a signal, as some of his images would also flash in morse code. The images that are meant to jump scare the players in the previous games are actually warnings sent by Scáth, telling the player (The Guardian) that infecteds are nearby.

Scáth has hope in The Guardian, so he sees through his eyes from time to time. Sometimes, Scáth makes the Guardian see a lot of images, signaling "Danger" or "Don't go here" but The Guardian is confused.

After Scáth became infected, the infection affected him in the most brutal way possible that he ceased to exist, causing him to be a thought form. He was powerful enough to create the dream realm, however, he can only exist there in his universe. Naturally, he isn't a violent creature and is usually pretty nice, however he will only attack when you've come into the dream realm uninvited, you were apart of creating the infection and or making it worse, or you are just in general a terrible person.

Although Scáth can exist as a physical life form, it is only in seperate universes. How does he access them? When people enter his dream realm, it opens up gateways to another dimension, which also makes the dimensions he accesses very limited. Once he enters said dimension, he returns to his first form, wanting to restart his life before it ended horribly. Unfortunately, he can be killed in said universe. And once that happens, he can never return to it again.

Scáth can be permanently killed in his universe, however it is extremely hard as the infection takes over his body whenever someone shows extreme amounts of violence against him in the dream world. (I.e multiplayer mode where you receive weapons) being killed in his universe also kills him in every single one he could enter and be normal in.

Since he was the first victim of the infection, it has kind of affected him differently. He still has a sense of himself, as most of the dosages he took were to put a virus inside of him, that morphed his body in ways to the point his own body deteriorated and turned him into a phantom of sorts.

Fun facts!!

His first and second form are 11'8, while his full shadow form (without his legs being removed) is 20 feet tall.

He can change the environment of the dream realm however he chooses it to be dark, as I made his infected form sensitive to light.

If you come into the dream realm uninvited, he will become violent. However, if you happen to be one of the people he invited into the dream realm before (or you're a child) he'll spare you.

He can't invite people into the dream realm from other universes, however people from said other universes can come in uninvited (which causes rifts in time)

Weirdly fun fact, Scáth's dream world has stopped the time and space continuum being interfered with in his universe.

He cannot return to his dreamworld until his physical form dies in the current world he's in, whether that would be due to natural causes, sickness, or murder.

He's a normal tubbie in his physical form. (Aside from the blatant void in his eye)

The void eye/his left eye can't close, neither can he see out of it.

He's 37! (Old man)

If he started to cry, the void in his eye will leak a black goo.

Thank you for taking the time to read my character concept for Shadow Tubbie! He's still a long way from being full fleshed out as I'm still working on his personality and story and still trying to rewrite some things, but that's it for now.

[diorcities]

strawberries & cigarettes — teaser.

pairing: haechan x reader.

genre: angst, smut.

content: high school au, enemies to lovers, boyband haechan, they're on a play, there the mention of shakespeare, haechan's a dick, reader's a dick, a lot of cussing, jisung's a sweetheart. lowercase on purpose.

summary: the school's play is in two days and you're running out of time to put everything together since your known enemy lee haechan decided that the rehearsal day was the perfect day to release a launch party for his new album.

taglist: open — closed

a/n: i plan to write 15k words for this fic (at best) and release it once it's done. i need to clarify that this is a draft from one of the novels that i'm currently writing in spanish. so this is basically a piece of that. let me know any misspelled word or bad grammar!! <3

masterlist — req

full fic !!

“yn, what are you doing here?” jeno looked at you quite confused when you approached him. like being at a teen party was one of the last places he'd find you. honestly, he was right. “ah, i don't know,” you muttered, exaggerating each word. “perhaps looking for answers as to why my characters are at a party and not in the auditorium.” you watched jeno nod slowly, though he didn't look at all guilty of that recrimination. “i apologize,” he said, “but since you're here, you can stay. i'll make sure to dedicate one of our songs to you as a form of apology.” and you would have given in at that moment and place, except for one: you didn't like rock, and two: someone caught jeno's attention.

“hey, jeno!” you froze hearing someone call romeo through the music. jeno waved to some point behind you, coincidentally, where you had seen haechan start a conversation with a couple of girls talking a few seconds ago. “this isn't over, romeo,” you threatened, ready to leave before discovering if the person coming your way was your enemy haechan.

as you turned, fleeing, your face was stamped on a smooth, yet hard surface. you caressed your nose, looking up at the rest of the chest with which you hit your septum, meeting a pair of eyes that seemed to drop sparkles. “oh shit, are you okay?” he asked, looking concerned. “wonderfully,” you hissed. the boy stood up with a spasm, “i'm really sorry.” sure he does. he looked at you, longer than usual, before reacting as if he had remembered something. “wait, romeo?” he suddenly asked, pointing at jeno, looking for an answer.

“mmm…” jeno nodded, “we're in the drama club,” he explained. the star-eyed boy whistled, “and i guess you're juliet," he said, in your direction. “you guessed wrong,” you murmured. even though that answer would have been enough to stop people from talking to you, the boy found it funny. his laugh was heard above the music, and therefore, jeno started laughing too. and consequently to that, you too. “she's our director,” jeno explained. the boy nodded several times, weighing the black-haired boy's words. “impressive,” he said at the end, “that's like…” he added, using his hands to simulate an imaginary ladder, raising his hand above his head, “very impressive. my congratulations.”.

“thanks,” you replied, suddenly feeling weird. no one had reacted like that. as if they took for granted that it was obvious it was impressive. the starboy shrugged, like it was nothing. as if it was easy for him to flatter people spontaneously. “wait, if you're the director, that would make you…”.

“shakespeare,” you said in unison. genuinely smiling was not common for you. you could notice it; jeno had to look at you twice to make sure that you were indeed smiling. on the other hand, starboy…, he must have thought that you smiled often, and that you went to parties every day, and that jeno was your friend. would he still talk to you if he knew the truth? “have you seen renjun?” you asked jeno, remembering why you had come. you watched him think before his gaze was lost in the ocean of people. his eyes widening slightly as he found something in the crowd. he then pointed his finger behind the star-eyed boy, and your gaze followed the route, until you fell on renjun, talking to haechan, a few meters from you.

and as if your gaze could feel, haechan returned your gaze, at first absentmindedly. without recognizing you, until you could mentally feel how his brain went to work and alerted him to look a second time. remembering him that you weren't allowed to his party. however, you reacted automatically faster than him. grabbing the boy by the shoulder, he instinctively leaned forward, within reach. your face moving closer to his, lips going to his lips.

first, there was no reaction. just his lips brushing against yours. your body completely tense from having been so close to finding benvolio. when a sudden movement caused your thoughts to shut up. the boy's lips began to move on top of yours.

he was kissing you.

your hands still on his shoulders, and his hand going to one of them, taking it together and guiding it to his neck, before sliding out of your hand, onto your shoulder, resting on your back. drawing you closer.

his eyelashes tickling your cheeks. and his lips, soft, kissing yours. slowly. your head tilting to the sides when you changed position. the spell of a kiss being broken without warning, when his lips moved away from yours. and your eyes widening quickly, to see haechan take him by the shoulder and pull him away from you. and finally, his murderous gaze falling on you.

haechan shot jeno a look before taking your arm and dragging you towards the exit. you tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but the boy was pretty strong, and his grip was pretty hard on your arm. “i can find the way out on my own, idiot,” you hissed, trying to get rid of him to no avail. “you're an asshole, haechan. i want you to know that.” you continued to rant as he led you to the exit, “motherfucker, you always have to mess things up. oh, i hate you,” you blurted out, seeing that they had passed the exit.

“the exit is that way by…”

“shut the fuck up,” he hissed, leading them into a desolate hallway. he then dropped you between the wall and him. he looked quite angry, his hands were clenching and unclenching into fists, and his breathing was rough. his eyes finally looking at you, burning with rage. “what the hell are you doing?” he released. “shit, are you like this because i snuck in your part…?,” you said, before he interrupted you, “what were you doing kissing mark?” he asked. you were afraid that he would spit fire at any moment.

without noticing it until that moment, your bodies were quite close. your agitated breaths from the discussion entwined in the air in the middle of each other. his gaze trying to pierce your gaze. so close you could smell his cologne, mingling with his marlboro breath. suddenly glancing to his lips, as if you could visualize the cigarette between them. reacting quickly, and cursing for what it looked like you were doing, returning to meet his eyes, only to find that he was doing the same. only you never smoked.

to be continued

[amnestria-the-elf]

I had a dream that my 77-year-old mother was isekai'ed into BG3, so of course I had to write a small little ditty about it.

To be clear, my mother would make a terrible Tav. She has no interest in fantasy or sci-fi and spends the majority of her time on Facebook. Being outside is her least favorite activity. Her favorite TV show is one of the Sunday morning news programs (I have no idea which, because I have not watched broadcast television since 2012, but she definitely tells me about the stories they have on that show all the time.) She is not a decisive person; she was raised in the toxic traditional gender role post-war Boomer era, and is perfectly fine to let others dictate how her life turns out.

Having said all of that, she'd make a decent Bard. For a sweet-looking older lady, she can come up with some surprisingly sick burns. Probably all of that repressed rage that she refuses to get therapy about. Anyway.

*~~~*

Linda was far too old for this shit.

Other women her age spent their time knitting, or going to their little exercise classes, or watching their soaps, or swapping stories about their grandchildren, or writing interesting Facebook posts. God, she missed writing Facebook posts.

But not Linda. Oh, no. Linda had somehow gotten pulled into a horrifying universe and had some kind of parasite inserted in her head, and now found herself surrounded by an unlikely band of misfits who shared the same affliction.

Perhaps she was having a psychotic break. Maybe she was really back home and her daughter had placed her in some kind of institution because she was entirely unresponsive. Honestly, she hoped that was true, but her back hurt like hell and every wound she sustained bled real blood, and that odd little Goth girl had to heal her every time, so she was reasonably certain that what was happening was real.

She was getting better at not getting wounded as often, at least. She learned that she was of better use to the group when she stayed in the back and just yelled insults at the enemies while everyone else did their thing. The angry alien lady seemed perfectly happy to take her rage out on anyone in her way and that disturbingly pale elf did well with his little bow and arrow. He really needed to get some color into his cheeks; he’d never find someone to be with looking like that. If only she could go to Walgreens and get him some bronzer. It would do him a world of good.

The magical bearded man did a surprisingly good job of cooking their meals. Linda tried to help but quickly realized she had no idea how to cook over an open fire. She longed to be back in her newly-remodeled kitchen, with the induction cooktop and smart fridge that automatically reordered her groceries for her. How did any of these people even function without wifi? They would never get to see the funny cat videos that she sent her daughter every day. Such a shame.

The most helpful companion was the heroic young man who had jumped down to fight the goblins in front of the Grove. What was his name? Will? No, Wyll with a “Y.” She remembered the odd little Goth girl teasing him about it. He had been so good with those little horned children after the fight. Her granddaughter would love playing with him.

Tears stung at her eyes as she thought about her granddaughter. Would she ever get to see her again? She sighed heavily as she stared down into her bowl of porridge.

“Are you alright?” a kind voice asked.

Linda looked up to see Wyll coming to sit down on the log next to her with his own bowl of porridge.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about my granddaughter,” she said.

“Oh, you have a granddaughter?” Wyll asked. “What is she like?”

“She’s about the same age as those kids you were training back in the Grove. I think she’d like you, actually. She’s very active. She tears around the house as fast as she can, slaying imaginary dragons or pretending to be a lion.”

Wyll laughed. “A courageous heart, no doubt. I hope I can meet her someday.”

Linda sighed wistfully again. “She lives… very far away from here.”

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You must miss her very much.”

“Yes,” she whispered as tears filled her eyes again.

“Istik, enough sniveling,” that angry alien lady interrupted. “We must find the creche today. Purification cannot wait.”

“Give her a break, Lae’zel,” Wyll said. “She misses her family.”

“Tch,” Lae’zel said with an eye roll, but walked away.

“We don’t have to listen to her, you know,” Wyll said when Lae’zel was out of earshot. “You can choose what we do today.”

“I don’t know what we should do,” she replied. “You decide.”

Wyll frowned. “Well, the area where the githyanki were spotted is not far from a little settlement, Waukeen’s rest. There might be a healer staying at the inn there. It’s a longshot, but…”

“That sounds fine,” Linda said. “Lead the way.”

*~~~*

The burning building put Linda over the edge. No way could she handle rushing into flames and smoke to save somebody. Let the young people kick in doors and risk life and limb. Wyll seemed very proud of himself as he rushed in, so Linda just sat down on the edge of the fountain with a soft groan. Minutes passed; she started to worry that perhaps they weren’t going to come back out when a group of sweaty, sooty people stumbled out, coughing. 

When it became clear that Wyll was actually the son of a Grand Duke, Linda’s mind was made up.

“That’s it, Wyll. From now on, you’re in charge,” she said.

“I’m… what?” he asked, bewildered.

“In charge. You make the decisions. I’m done,” she said.

“Um, you’re sure? I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes…”

“I’m sure. I don’t think any of the others can handle it. Magic man talks too much–”

“Magic man?” Wyll asked, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“I’m not good with names!” Linda snapped. “The pale one is too whiny and these two–” she gestured to Lae’zel and Shadowheart– “won’t quit fighting. That leaves you. Help me. Please.”

Lae’zel and Shadowheart both started to grumble, but Linda cut them off with a withering glare honed by years of experience taking care of children and a husband. Wyll eyed them, then nodded and took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll take charge. And make sure everyone gets what they need,” he said pointedly towards the others.

Good. Let Wyll do whatever needs to be done. From here on out, Linda was staying at camp.