#not quite happy with the graininess

[eustasskiddsprosthetic]

"I trust you. I like you." — a potential fic based on this (x) Detailed notes on Sabo's design below!

For him, I initially thought of him as a shark of all things. I say that despite not knowing how to draw sharks uh. Here it is below.

I wanted him to be a big boy and have this immense size difference with Law. He's the tallest among the ASL trio and that meant he should be the biggest merman out of the three. He's not necessarily buffer but he just has a larger frame and a longer, more muscular tail.

I also wanted him to look like a freak, a huge figure with obscenely sharp teeth. I found images on Pinterest with sharks with scars that seemed to slice through their skin and I wanted to incorporate that throughout the design. A homage to Sabo's scarred eye, if you will.

He had horns too, for some reason. I just thought it looked cool.

However, what I didn't like about this design was that it didn't read like Sabo, or at least the version of Sabo I envisioned in my head. Hence, I gave up on it. It was sort of devastating because I wanted to try something new, but we move on!

Without a clear idea for what I wanted, I spent a lot of time struggling with not just Sabo's design but with what I wanted the illustration to be overall. Later that evening, I scrolled through Pinterest (again) and found images of eels and that just clicked.

They're just the right combination of cute and just downright weird. They have that snake-like look to them, which echoed my initial shark design. On top of that, they don't look as derpy from the front as compared to sharks.

I did try again to make Sabo freaky, as shown by this sketch below. It's based on a scene from that potential fan fic, where Sabo saves Law from drowning and his inner freak shines through. I imagined a dark lighting situation where Sabo's scars are the light source. It'll be quite creepy and I'd like to manifest this vision someday!

Anyways, from here, I focused on making Sabo look cool and pretty for the illustration. I retained his human face (I am not good enough for furry art) and focused on making his tail look SUPER cool.

It's interesting to me that with this revision, I found inspiration in my initial 'failed' design. I still kept the star-shaped scars and placed them on his tail and body.

They're blue because (1) I wanted to respect Sabo's colour palette and (2) I was inspired by those ocean creatures who glow underwater. I feel that would be a good plot point like Sabo would be insecure about that because it's admittedly kinda scary but Law would think it's reassuring.

That's all I have to say about the designs. I have ideas for Ace and Luffy, but I haven't sketched them out concretely yet. I'm thinking lion fish for Ace and a cute black fish species called the Pinnate Spadefish for Luffy.

The Pinnate Spadefish has one bold red/yellow stripe and I like to think that Luffy as a merman just painted it on to look like Ace. He shifts between red and blue to imitate his Cool™ older brothers.

But yeah, that's all. I needed to yap about this, so if you read this far, thank you for reading!

[esthercore]

Genshin Men & Their cum ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

The 3 am horny strikes again | HSR Version

Albedo - Oh, quite controversial if I may. It's a bit chalky, not in taste, taste is just fine but in texture. A bit grainy, with a consistency on the thinner side. Even the color is bit too translucent. Definitely something that take to time to grow on your, if you're picky with textures like me. Maybe try and compare his cum with his clone's for scientific purposes...

Al Haitham - It's...cum flavored, but the taste is a bit amplified, strong. And it's thick and globby too. The scholar isn't a big fan of jerking off, since it's too much work and too unproductive, so full balls just for you <3

Ayato - The taste is quite pleasant, fresh, and smooth in texture. It falls in the can't complain category, it isn't the best, but there is also no bad features, though the quantity is a bit low due to constant work stress.

Baizhu - Same as blade, his body is working overtime, and his health is fucked, it's very thin, but don't tell him, it break his poor heart.

Childe - Thick thick, really like seeing you struggle to swallow his load, patting your head as you choke a bit. It takes just fine, though leans a bit on the bitter side.

Diluc - Sweet and delicious! Grape fruit really do wonders, he easily top in the taste specter. The consistency is average not to thick or thin, and quite a pleasurable amount. Nice and warm, thick gooey cum.

Itto - The taste is slightly addictive, and metallic. Also has some thick globs. It's quite distinguishable if you ask me. Perhaps a hit or miss for some people, but you should definitely give it a taste, especially for that shy grin he pulls, quite pleased with your actions.

Kazuha - He has the a healthy amount globs in between, the taste, the texture, the amount all are satisying. Especially the way he refuses to look you in the eyes, getting all shy after you swallow.

Kaeya - The most amount in Tevyat, and the best texture, and he sure as hell knows it. Gets so smug at your cock drunk face, a bit of his cum dripping down your neck, a bit spilled on the

Neuvilette - Fresh, like water from a mountain lake, very cold too, so good on a hot summer evening. Plus this man is a 500 year old virgin so you get a glorious amount. The only downise is the consistendy running on a bit thinner side.

Thoma - It's cum, plane, basic, average everything. Unless you're talking about his flustered expression, as you lap up his cum, that's a solid 10/10

Wriothesley - Another one that likes to see you choke trying to swallow, he loves the humiliating aspect, calling you names while tenderly petting you. His cum itself is pretty normal but makes up with the foreplay. Loves bukkakke.

Zhongli - Thick and creamy, taste sweet too! He gets so shy when you swallow, he's to old and modest for this, so grandpa's pulse immediately go haywire.

Bonus!!!

Dottore - Thick and the amount is in excess. He's so perverse during the foreplay, intentionally making sure to drench you, making you open your mouth and inspect it after you swallowed, and making you lick the cum you spilled on the floor

Capitano - The best overall in Tevyat, thickest, most yummy, the most amount, yet he's modest regarding everything. He simply likes you doing your own stuff, and indugle yourself in him. Will pet your head when you swallow, happy you're enjoying yourself. Maybe give you some sweet pecks if you tell him, his cum is the best.

(Reminder, Genshin is a fictional game, hence the unrealistic descriptons. If i missed any of your favs, which i probably did, just tell me and i do a part 2.)

[vincentbriggs]

I finished that purple jacket a while ago, so here are some badly lit grainy pictures of it. (I will get a decent light at some point, but for now there's just the ceiling one.)

By 18th century standards it's a sleeved waistcoat, but I intend to wear it as a jacket in my everyday wardrobe, so I'm calling it a jacket. I haven't got any pants or breeches that go well with it, but it works wonderfully with my gold & purple gloves! I might redo the hem. The front seems to be wrinkling up a bit so I think the lining is pulled too tightly. In sewing the buttonholes the front edge got a bit distorted, which affects the way it sits just enough to annoy me, but it's fine it's fine. I'm happy with it overall and glad to have it off The Pile, and it's nice to have finally tried metallic buttonholes on an actual garment.

The dark purple is wool from an old pencil skirt (which was navy blue but I overdyed it) and it took a lot of piecing to get the fronts wide enough. The striped stuff is 6 wonderful cotton napkins I found unopened in the package at the thrift store, and have been excited to use for quite a while now. I love a good woven stripe, and these went so nicely with the wool, and were big enough that I only had to piece them at the waist on the back. The lining is partly a lavender silk faille remnant from Renaissance Fabrics, and partly an off white silk/cotton blend. The buttonholes are gold leather and the grape leaf buttons came half from my stash, and half from ebay, as I posted about a while ago.

[x-on-the-calendar-business]

exploring panic!'s a fever you can't sweat out/live in denver boxset

a couple of years ago, i managed to snag this for $150, which is still crazy to me, and it's definitely my favorite thing i've ever owned. i feel like i haven't seen many people detailing the contents of it, and since it's such a cool relic, i wanted to share this beauty with everyone.

it comes with the live in denver dvd (left) and a fever you can't sweat out cd (right). the cover art and discs are SO fucking pretty and cool i'm so obsessed with them. i love how it really feeds into that 20s/30s theme they had going on this era.

then it has these 4 photo cards which are all such beautiful photos. the first one especially is one of my all time favorite panic photos. the b&w filter also fits this era so well.

this is a phenakistiscope. you stand in front of a mirror and spin it around while looking through the cracks so it looks like the girl is dancing (instructions are included on the back).

this is a tour program for the live in denver tour. it includes all the tour dates, as well as a guide to their discography. including pictures of the inside would exceed my image limit, so if anyone wants a post detailing this item, i'd be more than happy to post that!

self explanatory but it's a mask reminiscent of the but it's better if you do music video.

there's this SUPER cool poster that i'd love to hang up on my wall but i'm too scared to in case it ruins it. i'm actually so obsessed with this thing.

this is something else i can't include detailed pictures of due to the image limit, but honestly there isn't a lot of lore or super interesting stuff inside of it. however, i'd still be happy to detail it more in another post.

there's this GORGEOUS notebook that i'm also too scared to actually do anything with. it is actually quite a thick notebook. i looove the detail of the "PANIC!" barely visible in the middle of the pages.

now onto my absolute favorite part of this thing:

these cards for each song on fever are SO fucking cool and i love them so much. they're printed on really nice material too; they don't feel cheap and have this grainy feel to them too (idk how else to describe it) and it works so well. luckily i'm able to post individual pictures of each one.

so the back of all of them have the lyrics printed like that but i won't be able to post pictures of that for each one.

they just all encapsulate the theme of each song perfectly while also fitting so well with the aesthetic that they had this era. like my jaw dropped when i saw these for the first time. (side note: i'm not sure why they numbered intermission as number 12 when it should be 8 based on the album. i also don't know why they skipped introduction since they included intermission).

all in all, this is the coolest piece of merch a band has ever put out imo. like no one is doing it like this anymore. i'd been yearning for it since i was 14 so i'm so glad i was able to find it as such a steal of a price. i'll never shut up about owning it and if you're able to get your hands on it i cannot recommend it enough.

[jarofstyles]

Illicit 5

Here's Illicit part 5.. It's a fun one for sure hehe

Check out our Patreon for early access and 100+ exclusives

Illicit Masterlist

WC- 3k

Warnings- exhibitionism(?), Voyerism(?), Really mean H, Cheating (H w Y/N), spit play, smut etc

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

It was safe to say that Brant was not pleased in the slightest that his daughter had tricked Harry. While he wasn’t pleased with the fact that it had come to that in order for them to spend time together, his company took precedence over his daughter’s relationship. He had apologized profusely to Harry, telling him he would speak to his daughter and make sure she knew how inappropriate her actions were. That wasn’t what he was looking for. 

He wanted this contract terminated. 

Perhaps, if he hadn’t met Y/N, he would have a bit more tact. Suffer in silence and just roll his eyes at her antics, let her do what she needed to get him off of her back. But he did. He met the love of his life and this girl was standing in the way of what he wanted. That never turned out well for anyone, really, but this girl had pushed his last straw. He needed her to break up with him so this agreement was void. The moment she told him it was done, he would perhaps just for joy. It was exhausting. The annoyance he used to feel for her had built up into a sweltering hatred, a loathing. Every little thing she did pissed him off and put her higher and higher on his shit list. He needed her gone, and fast. He couldn’t keep hiding Y/N.

Katherine on the other hand, only wanted to chase harder. She was livid with him for speaking out loud, letting people question their relationship. Sure enough there was a grainy video of a pissed off Harry growling at her from across the table, throwing cash on to the table. The articles had come out in droves.

Trouble in Paradise for the New IT Couple?

UnStylish Dinner- Waitress Tells All

Rocky Road for Heiress and Mogul 

Is THE Couple Calling it Quits?

Tantrum at the Table? Katherine Brant EXPOSED!

Needless to say, she was twitching and angry. Her carefully curated brand had been tarnished. She’d put in months now of effort, building up their story. Letting herself sit aside while Harry was busy but getting her head bitten off when she wanted a bit of attention. Her crush on him was obsessive. It wasn’t just getting his love anymore, it was building their relationship up to legendary levels. Give them a ship name! Katrry? Hatherine? She was fine with either, but she wanted that influencer reputation. The wealth itself wasn’t enough. She wanted attention, damn it, and Harry was ruining her plans. 

When Katherine had originally gotten this deal, she was ecstatic. She was convinced she could get the ‘emotionless beast’ as people around there called him, to love her. She knew she was pretty, funny, she had a lot to offer. Her plan had been foolproof, or so she thought. Thinking about how they could rise up and be the perfect power couple. New money and Old coming together and ruling over the city with a golden fist. 

They had been ruined, however, when he didn’t give. They had sex 2 times, she gave him oral once, and the man had barely said anything to her except ‘shut up.’ He was selfish, using her as a mere fleshlight to get off on. No praise, no words besides a grunt when he came. He’d demanded her face down, ass up, and to keep quiet. Bite the pillow if you need, your voice is annoying.  It hadn’t been bad, his cock thick and hitting the right spots, but he showed no interest in her. No affection. Simply slapping her ass and getting up to shower alone after he was done. He’d asked if she was good, but that was about it. She’d thought maybe using sex to get to him would work, but after the second time he straight up denied her. No phsycial contact.

There was no way he was normal. He didn’t have emotions nor morals, it seemed, but she didn’t need those in order to have a happy life. Giving up on the affection, she’d tried to perfect the image, manipulating photos, planting people to see things at certain angles. Making people think she had done the impossible- she had turned the mottled, charred heart of Harry Styles into a blooming forest, just for her. But obviously- things were not turning out her way. Katherine was used to getting her way. 

So she devised a plan. An intervention of sorts, one that had her stomping into his office only to be told he had taken the day off. A direct lie he had told her just an hour earlier, saying he was busy at work all day and not to bother him with silly things. Like her feelings. She was fuming and irrational, knowing what she had to do. It would perhaps get people fired, maybe get her in big trouble with her father, but she wasn't thinking clearly right now. All she wanted to do was to yell at him. Give Harry a taste of his own medicine, damn it. He acted so high and mighty, so above her, and it infuriated her. 

Knowing it wasn’t smart and the back of her mind reminding her of how much he valued his privacy, she knew it was dirty. But seeing her opportunity with a new doorman to his building, proving their relationship status with his phone number in her phone and photos of them together, she got the spare key to his place. 

Her heart was beating in her throat as she pushed the front door handle down, heels clicking as she walked inside the foyer. The place was quiet, really, except for a faint sound coming from the upstairs of the penthouse. Naive, she assumed it was the television. Harry hadn’t allowed her here more than to meet her in the hallway, so part of this was saving her curiosity as she saw the large panoramic views of the city in this high rise, floor to ceiling windows. His step down living room with a half one puzzle on the coffee table and a U Shaped couch, she walked past it and towards the grand staircase to make her way up to where he must be. 

It was nerve wracking, really. Being here, knowing she wasn’t supposed to be, but the rage simmering under her skin was too hot to make sense of it. Each step clicked, bringing her closer to the sound she still couldn’t quite make out. 

“Oh, fuuuuck.” A feminine voice let out, faint but loud enough to make her throat tight. There was no way. Each step closer gained another sound. A grunt, a smack, a whimper. A manly cooing, the sound of flesh slapping together and hushed words that only got clearer as she neared the door that was ajar. 

“S’good, baby?” It was Harry. Harry Styles, with his low crooning voice. A tone she had never heard before, making her stiffen up and her eyes blink hard as the deep words continue. “S’so good for me. Always so fucking good, swallowing me up.” A weak whine sounded in reply. Tip toeing closer, her curiosity got the best of her again as she peeked inside. 

On the plush bed, the blankets were crumpled and wrinkled. A starkly naked, almost faceless woman was laying on her back, fingers clutching the broad expanse of Harry’s bare, tanned back. The pearly pink of her demure manicured nails digging into the skin, making a groan Katherine had never imagined the man capable of falling from swollen lips. She was getting a side view, a real pornographic image playing in front of her face. Frozen, like watching a car crash as she looked at the couple. 

He was fucking another woman. A woman he was treating much differently than she had ever treated her. His hand scooping under her neck, cooing down at her as tiny repetitive whimpers left her lips. “I know, M’Love. I know, I’m getting that spot, aren’t I? S’my spot.” He brushed her nose with his own, fucking into her deep and concentrated. The sweat glistened on his skin as she watched her supposed ‘boyfriend’ fuck into the cunt of another woman. He called her ‘his love.’. She was shaking, face pale as she couldn't seem to uncement her feet from the carpeted hall. 

“Yes, yes, right there. Right there, H.” The woman panted. Desperation was clear in her tone, her legs pulled up and on his shoulders. H? She was allowed a nickname and Katherine wasn't? “I can’t stop, m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum I-” A needy squeal sounded in the room as Harry leaned down, spitting over her cunt and smearing it in with his hand. Unashamed and passionate. He was being filthy, but the way he looked at the woman- it broke her a little. Whoever this was, she had gotten her dream. She was the one standing in the way of it, she was the one who had ruined her plans. She’d hypnotized him with sex, somehow managing to get her goal of unfreezing his heart. Just the way he handled her made Katherine well aware of the fact that he was in love. 

“There we fuckin’ go, my love. Soak my cock.” He hissed through his teeth, eyes looking up from Y/N to follow his gut feeling, eyes meeting Katherine’s in the doorway. Instead of stopping, of growling at her, instead of making her presence known, he simply laughed, turning his attention back to Y/N and let her watch. His thrusts increased in tempo, a hand placed on her tummy as he worked harder. Like he was trying to prove something. “S’my perfect girl. All mine, let go all over my cock. S’all yours, baby.” He hummed. “I can feel it- fuck, you’re trying to milk me. Y’want it, sweet girl?” He mumbled down at her. “Want my cum again?” 

Her eyes betrayed her, looking down to find that his cock was indeed bare. Something she knew he was notorious for never allowing. It solidified a lot to Katherine, knowing that he was fucking this girl raw, that she was the one that had beat her to him. Anger and shame bubbled inside of her as her face stays red, watching his slick pick drive into her, spreading her open with each pass. Creamy at the base, like this wasn’t their first round, maybe a third. Bitten skin and scratch marks, her breasts with pebbled nipples arched up as begged for it, unashamed at her pleas as Harry stared down at her with pure love and lust. It seemed to be his undoing, dropping down her legs and finding himself on top of her, deep and hard thrusts as he pressed his nose to hers before his face contorted in rapture. A deep growl, his hips stuttering as he pushed in one final time and the wet sounds of sex ended. Only then, he took her mouth with his own while he stayed balls deep, humping into her and kissing her hard, more passion going into that one kiss than he had given her the whole of their relationship. 

His expression hardened as he pulled away, looking up at Katherine with a single warning mouthed to her by his swollen, spit slicked lips. ‘Get the fuck out.’ 

—---------

“I love you.” Harry mumbled into Y/N’s neck, peppering it with kisses. He wasn’t going to ruin this post orgasm bliss quite yet, ignoring the woman standing with a gaping mouth at their bedroom door. “So much. My sweet angel.” He stroked the messy locks from her face, their second round on his day off being usually one of his favorites. This time, it was again, but for a much more nefarious reason. 

Harry wasn’t one to tell someone they were wrong if they called him cruel. He was. Y/N, his nieces and his family were the only ones shielded by his gray morals, but there was a sick part of him that was relieved. Excited, even, that Katherine got a glimpse. Saw that she could never compare, that he was a taken man and was only with her. Maybe now, she would get it through her impossibly thick skull. Only, it seemed she was stupider than Harry had originally thought, standing like a deer in headlights as Harry gently pulled out, using his fingers to curl inside her cunt and the other grabbing the blanket to cover up Y/N. 

“Can you not read lips? I said to get the fuck out.” He said coldly, fingers pressing the cum further into Y/N’s cunt as he looked at Katherine. “You come in here, invade my privacy? More so, my girl’s privacy? Not fucking okay.”

“Are you kidding me?” Katherine squeaked. Y/N had been clued in and felt herself curl in on herself, hiding under the blanket as her thundering heart didn’t take the second to calm down. It only got worse. “I’m your girlfriend! Not this, this-”

“I’d choose your words very fucking carefully.” He snapped, eyes darker than she had ever seen. He was naked as the day he was born, cock wet and filthy with another woman's orgasm mixed with his own, and he was more threatening than she could have ever imagined. “This is the woman who will be the mother of my children. You, Katherine, are a means to an end. An end I’ve been trying to work on and you’ve been too pathetic to catch a clue. Or stupid, actually, considering I’ve told you I’m here because you whined to your father who was dumb enough to add a personal matter cloud his judgment. I didn’t want you then, and I don’t want you now.” He pulled his fingers from Y/N, licking them clean without breaking eye contact with the wicked witch. He hoped it made her sick.

“You are a monster.” She whispered, face paling. “You don’t care about anything! Any of the effort I put in, it’s because you’ve had a whore on the side-”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” He interrupted again. “She’s not the whore. If anything, you’re the one on the side trying to desperately prove to people who don’t care about you that you are important. It’s pathetic. I tried to help you by treating you like shit, but let me spell it out for you.” He stood up, giving Y/N’s forehead a kiss before crossing his arms. “You are nothing to me. You’ve never been anything to me. She has been my everything since the day we met. I have been dreaming of marrying her, impregnating her, keeping her. You and this fucked up deal have been an inconvenience since day one. And don’t even think about running to your father crying. There is no clause saying I need to be loyal to you. No monogamy, no fidelity clause. Your father’s company was a welcome inquisition to my empire, but it means nothing to me now. You mean nothing to me. Your time is worthless.” 

Harry was harsh but real. Y/N had her hand over her mouth, watching the exchange in horror. She wasn’t pleased about being seen, as it felt extremely violating, but she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t feeling that weird sense of satisfaction over finally being seen as his one and only. It was a weird juxtaposition of feelings swirling in her gut, blinking as she watched the girl’s face fall. Harry was being ruthless, trying to cement the facts in her head. 

“I’ve been as kind as I can be given the situation. I went along with your little schemes but I’m tired. Frankly, the things you care about are vapid, stupid, and you will fall out of public favor in seconds once the next heiress with a camera pops up. But you’ve fucked up massively, Katherine.First, wasting my time and business hours. But this? Breaking and entering? Are you really that pathetic?” He sneered. It must have been a sight, seeing a stark nude Harry Styles sneering at a shivling excuse of an influencer who was standing in his doorway. “And here you are now, wasting my time with my love. I was going to continue this agreement and let you continue whatever social media posts, but this is too far for me. No deal is worth a psychotic woman breaking into my house and making my woman feel unsafe.” 

He crossed the room to grab his phone when he heard her sputter. 

“Wait! No- No, don’t call my dad.” She said shakily. “Please don’t call him. I’ll do anything. He’s going to kill me.” Katherine, above all else, couldn’t stand the threat of being cut off. That’s what he threatened the other day for using his phone to trick Harry. Katherine was used to her lifestyle and if that was taken away, she didn’t know what she would do. 

“Call off the contract.” He said. “That’s the only way I’m not telling your father and ruining your life. Break up with me, do your silly influencer thing and call the paparazzi. Call me an asshole, I don’t give a fuck. But break this contract. I want out of it and I want to be rid of you.” He found his briefs, pulling them up his legs. This was the one thing he wanted. To be honest, part of him did want to ruin her life- but he didn’t want to be held responsible for all the other shit that came with it. So for one final time, he gave her a shot. “And get the fuck out before I call security.”  

If she didn’t take this warning seriously, he’d be happy to show her what kind of monster he could be. 

[onlyangel4]

cindy lou who. cs55. SMAU

request: Can you do a lando x reader or Carlos x reader based on the song Cindy Lou who by Sabrina Carpenter

in which carlos moves on but you can't

warnings: angst. heartbreak. cursing. five year age gap with carlos. not a happy ending

author's note: pls, pls, pls send in more requests they are so much fun

faceclaim: sabrina carpenter

part two

f1wags

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 12,301 others

f1wags: sources have confirmed that carlos sainz and y/n y/ln have called it quits after two years of dating. with carlos stating that he did not have the time to give y/n the relationship that she deserved.

view all 248 comments

user1: we have just lost the greatest wag of all time

user2: i am in mourning

user3: oh y/n we will miss you

y/ninsta posted a close friends story

written: you said you could not give me what i needed but what if all i needed was you?

alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story: i am so sorry my love. i will be over in the morning and i will take you out for lunch okay angel

y/ninsta: thank you my love

f1wags posted a video to their story

description: grainy footage captures the moment y/n ran out of her house to greet alexandra saint mleux. y/n broke down as soon as she saw alex and cried into her arms.

y/ninsta

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc, fernandoalonso and 165,001 others

tagged alexandrasaintmleux

y/insta: time to work out who i am without you

view all 298 comments

alexandrasaintmleux: always here for you honey

y/ninsta: i would be so lost without you alex

fernandoalo_oficial: chin up paddock daughter

y/ninsta: i'll try, paddock dad

user10: these candids have such a sadder mood compared to the posed pictures she usually posts. i hope she is okay.

f1wags

liked by user13, user14, user15 and 20,901 others

f1wags: carlos sainz spotted showing pda to scottish model rebecca donaldson. donaldson (29) was first connected to carlos three weeks ago when they attended the same birthday party. this picture comes just seven weeks after carlos' break up with y/n y/ln (24)

view all 451 comments

user13: he just needed someone older, more mature. y/n was never wife material.

user14: imagine telling your ex you could not give her a proper relationship and then getting straight in bed with someone else. not a good look.

user15: i just know y/n is not okay right now.

carlossainz

liked by landonorris, iamrebeccad, y/ninsta and 1,001,319 others

carlossainz: the best summer break in a long time

view all 2,363 comments

user23: that caption is not it carlos. think about y/n's feelings.

iamrebeccad: what a gorgeous view (i'm not talking about the sunset

carlossainz: i could say the same about my view

user24: y/n get out of the likes honey you deserve better. BLOCK HIM.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: was having a shit day and then i dropped my coffee so now i'm crying in a parking lot.

alexandrasaintmleux posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: helping my girl get her sparkle back one day at a time

y/ninsta

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, kellypiquet, charlesleclerc and 203,092 others

y/ninsta: ten months older, i won't give in. now that i'm clean, i'm never gonna risk it

view all 607 comments

user31: y/n in her clean era we love to see it

alexandrasaintmleux: i still can't believe you wore that shirt to the bar. p.s so proud of you

y/ninsta: what can i say, i like to make a statement

kellypiquet: missing you honey

y/ninsta: miss you too kells

carlossainz

liked by iamrebeccad, lewishamilton, landonorris and 2,008,001 others

tagged iamrebeccad

carlossainz: to celebrate a year with my soulmate i asked her if i could share forever with her

view all 27,091 comments

iamrebeccad: i am so excited for our story

carlossainz: as am i my love

lewishamilton: congrats to you both

landonorris: congratulations mate you make the best couple

user39: notice how there is no max, charles and fernando in the likes and comments. they are team y/n and i love them for that.

user40: poor y/n

y/ninsta posted a story

written: every time i think the cut is healed salt still makes it sting

[gardenofnoah]

there are reasons why a body stays in motion

summary: you work too hard—kita knows it the second he meets you. he’s not expecting you to take him up on his offer. you don’t either, until you end up on his farm.

tags: shinsuke kita x reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, smut (oral, reader receiving), afab reader (no pronouns used, terms for body parts used("clit")), reader is a first responder, kita is a mother hen wc: 4.7k

the farmer’s market is quiet. mostly because it hasn’t opened yet.

you walk between stalls as the owners of them set up, smiling softly at those who greet you. it’s still a little dark out—the grass under your feet still a little dewy without a sun to warm it. if you were anyone else, you might still be in bed.

but you never made it to bed. in fact, you’ve been up for more hours than you care to count. that much is obvious by the way you sway slightly on your feet in front of Hanaka’s tomatoes.

“hey, you,” she murmurs, affectionate and maternal—reaching beneath the wood top to grab the coffee she’s brought you, as is your weekly tradition. “long night?”

“mm,” you hum around the plastic lid, tipping your head back. the coffee is a little bitter and a little grainy, but it doesn’t matter. truthfully, you’ve been up for so long that things are starting to lose their taste. in this case, that might be for the best. “on call. the phone just kept ringing.”

she nods, sympathy apparent on her face, and you know she understands. Hanaka is retired now—blissfully so, she says—but when you met, she was your coworker. she’d adopted you as some sort of pseudo-child, teaching you and looking out for you. it was a loss when she left, but you were happy she finally was getting to rest. when you found out she’d reserved a stall at the market, you made the effort to be there. even if it meant losing out on your rest.

“silly of you to come straight here,” she admonishes you sweetly, in the way that only she can. it makes you smile.

“and let the coffee get cold? never.”

she rolls her eyes, turning to busy herself with stacking deep green cucumbers into weaved baskets. you let your eyes roam the spread in front of you, reaching to brush a fingertip over the waxy skin of a tomato. your stomach growls—abrupt, and loud.

Hanaka snorts, shaking her head as she calibrates the scale. “head down the row,” she says, pointing in front of her without looking, “there’s a stand that does rice.”

you feel a bit like a zombie as you move among the crowd—still mostly vendors, until you can smell someone cooking. your feet bring you to a halt in front of a grey-haired man, shaping neat triangles of rice around what appears to be pickled cabbage and bean curd. your mouth waters.

"we're not quite open yet—oh." he pauses when he looks up at you, concern immediate and all over his face, "you need to sit down, darlin'?"

it makes you laugh. "is it that bad?"

he smiles at you, directing the man to his left to bring you a folding chair. you thank him, plopping unceremoniously into the seat. when you look up, there's an expertly assembled onigiri in your face.

"ah." it's warm in your fingers and you fight the urge to unhinge your jaw and shove the entire thing in your mouth. "thank you...?"

"Kita," he says, and his smile is kind in a way that feels a little disarming this early in the morning, "don't mention it. can't have you passin' out in front of my stall—s'bad for business."

you chuckle around a mouth full of rice—and holy shit, is it good. you try to tell him that, but to stop eating does not feel like an option. it makes him laugh.

"glad to hear it. can't take credit for the recipe—but the rice is from me."

"you're a farmer?"

"mm. have been for more than a few years now. just started comin' to the market though."

you nod, shoving the last of the onigiri in your mouth and greatly suppressing the urge to lick the stray bits of grain off your fingers.

he goes back to work, packing and shaping in a way that feels casual, but you have a hunch that the motions are some that he's practiced greatly. your lack of sleep emboldens you to let your eyes wander—his hands are calloused and careful, and it's obvious what he does just by the look of them. corded muscle flexes under sun tanned forearms as he shapes each onigiri with great focus, and you find yourself fascinated by the repetition.

"y'think you're closer to livin' now?"

you look up and find his eyes already on you, mirth all over his face. you grin, caught, warmth spreading up your neck.

"think so. what do i owe you?"

"nothin'," he waves you off, brown eyes crinkling. "just go take a nap."

you smile—warmed by his generosity. you get up and leave of rough estimate of coins on top of his register anyway. "see you later then, Kita."

.

..

later comes quicker than you thought. the very next week, as it turns out. you're a little more rested when you see him again, and it's the first thing he notices.

"y'look like you slept." he says by way of a greeting, handing you another perfectly formed onigiri—this time with pickled plum and what you suspect is salmon. it falls apart decadently in your mouth, the flavors complimentary and not overpowering against the rice. it's good.

"i did," you tell him around a mouth full, "wasn't on call last night."

he smiles, gentle around his eyes, as he watches you. "work?"

you nod. "social work—kids, mostly."

he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the counter. he considers you for a moment before he speaks again.

"so not sleepin' is normal for ya."

you shrug, avoiding his gaze. it's a little too early in the day to feel chastised by a man you only just met last week, even if he is admittedly a little handsome and insists on feeding you. he sighs, reaching for a stray piece of register paper.

"you like ducks?"

"like, the bird?" you look up at him, eyebrows arched in confusion. "yeah, i suppose i do."

he smiles down at the paper, scribbling a few lines down on it and handing it to you. "have a few babies that just hatched in the paddies. come by and see 'em if you ever feel like y'need a rest."

he waves you off, turning back to his work, and leaves you a little shellshocked as you look down at the paper. it has an address on it—for what you assume is his farm. you fold it neatly and push it down into the pocket of your jeans with the mental reminder of taking it out before you wash them. you shake your head, smiling to yourself as you turn and head back down the lane, dodging a few folks that are entering the market. you have a few hours before work—just enough time to knock out on the couch.

.

..

a few weeks later, you find yourself bouncing down a rocky lane, rice paddies on either side of the thin road. you figure you have to be in the right place, but feel a little nervous until you arrive to a little cabin at the end of the gravel, the numbers on your paper painted neatly on the side of the mailbox.

it's late—probably too late to be stopping by unannounced—but Kita didn't give you a phone number, and the day had been long. the thought of baby ducks and looking at anything that wasn't the blue light of your laptop felt like a lifeline.

he's leaning against the doorframe as you shut the car door behind you. you smile when you see him—maybe sneaking a little peak at the way his white t-shirt stretches around the biceps he has crossed over his chest. he doesn't say anything until you clear the porch steps.

"y'alright?" he asks quietly. it's a little startling—you're always careful not to let the effects of the day show. you feel exposed in front of him, and it has you shifting on your feet.

"i believe i was promised baby ducks."

the corners of his eyes crinkle and you find yourself genuinely charmed. he doesn't acknowledge your lack of an answer, and you're grateful for it.

"sit," he says, gesturing to a wooden rocker on the porch, "i'll grab 'em."

you do as he says, leaning back and taking in the view. the sun simmers a deep red on the horizon, bathing everything in it's hue. the paddies stretch on for what feels like miles. the house itself feels like an island—the one lane road it's only connection to life beyond it.

the rocker creaks as you push your toe against the porch, swaying gently back and forth. it's quiet, save for the chirp of the cicadas and the occasional bloat of a bullfrog. you jump when you feel something furry rub against your shin.

you look down and are greeted by an orange cat with the most round cheeks you've ever seen. old and a little ratty, it chirps at you, headbutting your leg.

"hello there," you smile, bending forward to scratch behind it's ears. "where'd you come from?"

"that's Barn Cat," Kita says, trudging up the wooden steps. "he hangs out in the fields."

you chuckle, looking up at him. "his name is Barn Cat?

"yup," his grin is contagious. you let your eyes roam around him, looking for the ducks he was supposed to get. they stop on the pouch he's created out of his shirt—widening as you hear several little quacks come from inside of it.

"hold out yer hands," he says, standing in front of you now. you do as your told, and a few seconds later, there's a teeny tiny baby in your palms.

"oh my god," you breathe, not quite able to wrap your brain around how something can be so small, "oh my god."

Kita chuckles, smiling when you look up at him. something about it brings you back to this moment—you're suddenly very aware that you've interrupted this man's evening and ordered him around at his own house.

"i'm sorry for showing up like this," you say quietly, running a fingertip over the downy-soft little body that's now nestled in your lap.

"no need. i'm glad yer here."

you can feel that the smile you give him doesn't quite reach your eyes, and you know that he notices.

"long day?"

you hum, watching the tiny duck tail twitch in its sleep. suddenly feeling a little envious of the rest it's able to get, and how simple its life will be. wake up, swim around, eat bugs, go to sleep. it won't ever think about anyone else. its little conscious will always be clear.

"yeah," you murmur. "it was."

he moves to sit down in the rocker next to you, smiling at the little duck that has taken up all of your attention. when you look up, his eyes are gentle and unwavering from yours. you're certain he's looking too deeply, but you know there's nothing you can do.

"i should get going," you say, mostly to convince yourself that it is true. Kita's mouth turns downward for only a moment, and then that soft smile is back again.

"give me yer phone," he murmurs, extending a hand toward you. you shrug, pulling it out and handing it to him. he types something quick and hands it back to you, Shinsuke Kita and a phone number on the screen.

"meant it when i said you can come by anytime," he tells you, hand lingering still in your space. "call me if ya need anything."

.

..

you get to texting, after that. it's funny—he's a man of few typed words, so you learn about his days through pictures. a criminally early shot of the rice paddies. the baby ducks that look bigger each day. Barn Cat sprawled out in the sun on the porch. dinner there, too—filleted tuna and rice under a waning sun. sometimes he calls, when your schedule allows it. the low timbre of his voice through the speaker frequently (and embarrassingly) lulls you to sleep. you have a hunch that he does it on purpose.

you've showed up at the farm enough times now that you're unable to use the excuse of the ducks anymore, especially now that they're bigger and far less cuddly, but neither of you acknowledge it. he starts showing you around. walks across narrow paths in the fields become excuses to bring you inside—into his home. the cabin is quaint and cozy, and decorated in a way that surprises you. pictures cover the walls—some of Kita as an adult, but mostly of Kita as a child, which makes him bashful and you smile. you stop at one of him as a chubby toddler, sitting in the lap of a woman he's clearly the spitting image of.

"that's gram," he says quietly, behind you. "this is her place. i moved out here when she got sick, and then i just..."

"stayed," you whisper, tracing the edge of the frame with your fingertip. he hums, closer to you now.

"didn't feel right t'leave."

you think it's admirable, but you don't want to embarrass him, so you keep it you yourself. he leads you down the hall, pointing out rooms as he goes—bathroom (you can't hide your surprise at the massive clawfoot tub in the center of it. he just shrugs, continuing down the hall—flushed up to his neck. it makes you smile.), guest room ("mostly unoccupied," he says, and you wonder if it was intentional). his bedroom is slightly larger than the guest room and considerably less decorated, but still tastefully so—the bed is large and looks temptingly soft, and the dresser adjacent to it is an antique, heavy and well-loved. you both linger in the doorway, coated in warm lamp light and shoulders brushing, not talking much and still saying a lot between you.

"you hungry?" he asks, voice a little gruff. you shrug, following him into the kitchen. you take a seat at the bar stool on the other side of the counter, watching him work.

he doesn't ask what you want and truthfully, you know he doesn't need to. there hasn't been a time yet that you haven't liked something Kita's made you. he moves with the same fluidity and grace he does at the market—he prepares your food with the same care, too. you watch him blatantly, this time. his brow furrows a little as he plates it. it's cute—it makes you ache.

you're expecting it to be good, but this is really good—unagi over rice, soft and chewy when it hits your tongue. you groan audibly, savoring each bite. Kita grins at you across the counter.

"good?" he asks, even though he doesn't need to.

you nod emphatically, not bothering to pause long enough to answer him.

"good." he looks awfully proud of himself. that ache twists in your chest again. "don't make it too often. glad ya like it."

it's quiet between you as you eat—you try to leave a few extra for him because he was nice enough to make you something so luxurious, but it's hard to stop yourself.

you linger in the cabin for the next hour or so, finding every reason to stay until you can't anymore.

"y'know," Kita mutters, looking a little shy, "yer welcome to stay in that guest bedroom. s'not like anyone else uses it."

he goes red immediately and it makes you smile. you fight yourself hard to keep from teasing him.

"i have to work early tomorrow," for the first time, that fact feels disappointing. "but i'd be happy to next time."

the smile he gives you leaves you a little breathless. "be careful gettin' home."

.

..

next time comes sooner than you thought it would.

the weekend comes and you shoot him a text, asking him what he's doing tonight. his reply comes immediately—whatever you're doing. come over—i'll cook.

you sit outside to watch the sunset after dinner. it goes down past the hills, extinguishing the light like the flame of a candle. you kick your feet out over the rail in front of you. the cicadas sing from their perches in the trees and the paddies look like an undulating, dark sea from where you sit. the only light is the dim bulb above your head, and the stars don’t pay it any mind. bright and shining, you can’t remember a time that you’ve seen so many.

“do you ever get lonely?”

he’s watching you—you can feel your skin warm where his gaze lingers, but you keep yours in front of you. Kita’s been the picture of hospitality, sweet in the way he’s shown care to you—but he’s seldom talked about himself. you feel vulnerable, toeing the line. he’s silent for a moment, and then it stretches on long enough that you start to regret asking.

“s’hard to, out here with all of this noise.” he says it lightheartedly, but you wonder if he’s deflecting. you have your answer a moment later when he says, quieter, “at night, mostly. y’notice when yer the only person for miles.”

you hum, picking at a splinter in the wooden arm of your chair. you feel the same, somehow. though you have trouble understanding how you can feel lonely being around as many people as you are. you tell him as much.

“they don’t really see you though, right?” he asks, but it’s rhetorical. “you help ‘em but it’s one sided. they remember what y'did but they don’t know who you are.”

it never fails to rattle you, his ability to see right through you. your face heats. “that’s the way it should be.”

“sure,” he says, smiling softly. “but it weighs on ya.”

you tuck your knees under your chin and close your eyes—frustrated, knowing that he's right and still wanting to fight him on it. you jump when his knuckles brush against your own.

"i didn't mean to upset ya, darlin'."

"you didn't," you murmur, shaking your head and willing your limbs to relax, "you're right. i just wish you weren't."

he smiles and keeps the back of his hand pressed to yours. it's a sonic interruption to the silence—you're so aware of the warmth of his skin that you feel it in your eardrums. you wonder if he can, too.

it's a while before you speak again—to bid him goodnight, even if you don't want to.

"goodnight, darlin'." his voice is low and soft, nearly a whisper over the cry of cicadas. you still hear it like he screamed it. "extra quilts're in the closet."

it makes you smile, how he can't help but make sure you're comfortable. it would be easy to mistake it for something else—something more.

"goodnight, Kita."

.

..

you get in the car and drive on muscle memory alone. eyes burning, you dial the number you now know by heart.

"hey darlin'," Kita's voice comes through the speaker like a warm blanket. it helps to settle you.

"hi," you croak, immediately wishing you'd taken a minute to get it together before you called him.

there's a pause. "you been cryin'?"

"only a little." you don't see a point in lying to him. "you around?"

"yeah, i'm here—where are you? i'll come get ya, don't want ya drivin' out here upset—"

you let out a wet laugh, shaking your head. "i'm alright, Kita. i'm already halfway there. i just wanted to let you know i'd be over."

there's another pause, and you can hear the way he's fighting with himself on the other end of the line.

"alright," he says finally, "be careful."

he's waiting on the porch steps when you pull up to the cabin. you're barely out of the car before he's pulling you into his chest. new tears threaten to spill over into the fabric of his shirt. you can feel the way he softens himself to hold you—like you'll shatter in his arms if he's not careful.

"c'mon," he whispers into your hair, "let's go in."

he takes your coat (and your shoes, and your bag) before he's pulling you closer again—keeping you tucked under his arm like something will swoop down and snatch you up if he's not careful. you'd laugh if you weren't soaking in every second of his affection like a sponge.

"can i run a bath for ya?" he asks, reaching to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. the callouses on his fingers brush the curve of it and it makes you shiver. you nod.

he only leaves you for a few moments before he's back, corralling you down the hall and into the bathroom. there's a pile of comfy sweats folded and set on the toilet, and a fluffy towel hanging on the hook.

"holler if ya need anything."

you smile at him, a little more genuine this time, and he leaves you to it. you strip the clothes from your body slowly, hoping that if you do it right, the day will come off with it. you sink down into the warmth of the water and sigh. your eyes start to burn again as you lean your head back on the rim of the tub, this time just at Kita's kindness. you feel guilty for relying on it.

you feel guilty knowing you've been keeping what's in your heart hidden from him.

you use his soap, knowing you'll smell like him—knowing it won't be enough to satiate the longing you feel, but doing it anyway. you're not sure when it started—if it hadn't been there all along—but it's been tearing up your insides for months. he makes it worse with the way he cares for you. it's almost cruel.

you drag yourself out of the tub eventually, drying off in record time just to be swallowed by his clothes , soft and warm and smelling of him. you brush your hair out in the mirror and tie it up on top of your head. you feel a little more like a person now.

Kita's up and hovering at the end of the hallway as soon as you open the bathroom door. you manage a little laugh this time—mostly content and only a little guilty, letting him mother hen over you. you close the distance between you, looping your arms around his middle. you feel him relax, just a little bit.

"you need to talk about it?" he asks, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you closer. you shake your head. "alright. come lay down."

he penguin walks you down the hall, grinning when you laugh. he moves right past the guest bedroom and into his.

he arranges you on the bed to his liking—cocooned in blankets and reclined against his pillows. he lays down next to you, on top of the comforter. respectful of your space, even if you wish he wasn't.

"thanks for taking care of me," you whisper, turning your head to look at him. "sorry for turning up like this."

his eyebrows knit together like he's never heard a more wrong thing in his life. "i'll have ya any way you turn up."

you blink at him, feeling like you've short circuited. you huff out a laugh, closing your eyes. "how unfair."

"mm?"

you open your eyes and feel stuck, pinned to the bed underneath his stare. there aren't many other options than to spill your guts onto his sheets.

"you make it hard not to love you, Kita."

he freezes, eyes locked on yours. your stomach ties and unties itself, but you can't look away.

it's another agonizing moment before either of you even breathes, and then you blink, and he's hovering over top of you, hands planted on either side of your head.

"say it again."

"i love you." it feels like the easiest thing you've ever said.

"tell me i've got it wrong," he rasps, leaning in to nose along your cheek.

"you don't."

your hand fists around the material of his shirt and you yank him down to your waiting mouth. it feels exactly the way you knew it would—warm and soft, not unlike the feeling you get every time you walk through his door. it’s gentle and unhurried, and you know he knows no other way. you let him break you apart slowly. 

he pulls away from your lips, only to press soft kisses to your cheeks, your chin, your brow bone. his mouth brushes against your temple and to your horror, you let out the world’s most pitiful little moan. 

his eyes go wide as he looks down at you, flushed and breathing hard beneath him. your fingers still tangled in his shirt, he closes his own around them and brings them to his lips. he keeps his eyes on you when presses them to the sensitive skin of the inside of your wrist. 

you feel no control of your reaction—your eyes flutter closed as the rest of you shudders underneath him. it’s so little and it’s almost too much. you know he’s figured you out when you’re able to meet his gaze again—deep brown filled with as much adoration as they are hunger. 

“tell me what you need, darlin’.”

"your mouth," you whimper, feeling hot.

"where?" his smile turns a little wicked, still pressed to your skin.

"everywhere."

if you were overwhelmed before, it would pale in comparison to this—his kisses turn hard and heavy, soft lips sucking harsh bruises into your skin. you keen and whine underneath him, writhing both toward and away from his searching mouth. he doesn't take his sweatshirt off of you—he just pushes it up to kiss every inch of skin it exposes. he only pauses to check in with you, only stopping for a second to ask half of a question you'd already started answering before he'd asked it.

he cradles your waist in strong, wide hands and bends down to lap at your navel, nipping sensitive flesh, tongue slipping inside the dip of your belly button.

your hips buck violently, whimpering into the crook of your elbow while you reach down to card your fingers through silver strands. you feel yourself making a mess of his sweatpants.

"please, Kita," you hiccup, nearly slurred in his onslaught. he hums against your skin and you feel it in your belly.

"s'alright sweetheart," he murmurs, pressing gentler kisses between your hipbones, taking the elastic of the sweatpants down with them. "i got ya."

he reduces you to something less than human with the hot slide of his mouth against the inside of your thighs, licking and sucking his way up to where you need him the most and then back down, too far away. it takes a wholly unreasonable amount of begging to get him there, and to get him to stay.

"please, please i just need—oh," your spine bows off the bed and then pulls taut at the feeling of his tongue sliding slowly through your wet heat. he lets out a groan at the taste of you, and you watch through hooded eyes as he grinds his hips into the mattress.

one hand keeps a steeled grip in his hair, and the other one sneaks under his sweatshirt to pull at your nipples. it's sensory overload—the feeling of the pebbled flesh under your fingers and the way Kita suckles gently on your clit has you squealing. he opens his mouth, panting and tongue lolled out, encouraging you to ride it. you don't need to be asked twice.

every snap of your hips against his face pulls a weak moan from him, and a louder one from you. everything is wet and hot and your thighs shake around his head with every drag of your achy clit across his tongue.

"Kita," you whimper, feeling the warmth start to spread, "gonna cum—i'm—"

it damn near melts you into the mattress. every muscle in your body contracts and then releases, leaving you immobile under his tongue. he holds your thighs apart, sucking on your clit while you shake and cry under him. it doesn't stop—every brush of his tongue pulls another dizzying contraction from deep inside you. he only relents when he's licked up every last drop of you.

he kisses his way back up your body and you feel like you're on fire. when he presses his lips to yours again, finally, it douses it. you only smolder underneath him now.

forehead pressed to his, you can't help but let out a little giggle. he grins, his pretty mouth pulled up in the corners, and presses another round of kisses to your jaw.

"i love you," you sigh, pulling him closer. he hums.

"i love you," he nips at the point of your chin, "and you're callin' out sick tomorrow."

there's nothing in your heart that wants to argue with him.

[lily-fics-11]

I Can See You: Chapter 6 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

Also, I kinda cosplayed Ellie if you want to check it out

*Not beta read

Ellie Williams is a player, on and off the lacrosse field. You begin tutoring her so that she can get her grades up and stay on the team. You try to keep things professional, however, your affection is a great motivator. Ellie wouldn't be caught dead with you so you become her secret mission. 

Chapter 6

Your friends are trying to figure out who your mystery girl is while you and Ellie grow closer than ever. Turns out the back of the library isn’t as private as you thought it was…

Word count: 4.4k

CW: *Ellie and reader are both 18*, profanities, sexual innuendo/references, profanities

“I need your help with something,” Ellie informs you after giving you a kiss and plopping down at your usual table in the library. 

“Is it Chem? Your test is on Wednesday, right?”

“Yes, actually, it is. But that’s not what I meant. It’s not school related.”

You are surprised, but try not to show it. You are more than happy to help her with anything she needs, though you haven't gotten past the homework and Dunkin Donuts coffee phase yet. “What is it, El?”

Ellie takes a deep breath and blurts out “I really need you to come to my lacrosse game tomorrow.” 

“Ellie I want to, I really do. But I don’t know how I’m going to pull that off. My friends are going to see my location at a random lacrosse field and think I got kidnapped. If I turn it off they will think I got kidnapped. I guess I could just leave my phone at home…” you trail off, racking your brains for an answer. 

Ellie cracks a smile. “This game is at North. You told your friends you are seeing a girl who goes to North. Why can’t she be a lacrosse player?”

Your face lights up. “Ellie, you are brilliant!”

“Yeah, I am,” she responds, a smug grin on her face. 

You throw your arms around Ellie and give her a kiss. “I’m excited to watch you play live, instead of on some grainy live stream.”

“I do look way better in person. The camera doesn’t really capture how good my ass looks in those shorts.” Unserious Ellie is ridiculously endearing. 

You laugh, still holding on to her, unwilling to let go yet. Ellie starts to kiss your neck and the pace of your breathing picks up. She keeps nipping at your neck, leaving you humming with satisfaction. 

Out of nowhere, you hear voices, very close by. You are both startled, having been lost in the heat of the moment. Quickly separating from each other, you and Ellie try to act natural. 

Two boys walk past and start scanning the book shelf to your left. You turn to look and Ellie’s eyes widen. 

“Turn the other way,” Ellie says under her breath. 

You look back at her in confusion.

“Your neck,” she whispers.

Ellie had been kissing your neck moments earlier, she must have left some evidence behind. 

“Fuck!” You hiss and whip your head in the other direction. You fiddle with the hood of your sweatshirt so that it’s covering the spot that is missing Ellie’s warm lips. 

Neither of you even had any work out, it looks like you are just hanging out in the library. Which wouldn’t usually matter, but the two of you don’t want to be seen together yet. 

Thankfully, the two boys are most likely freshmen, who probably don’t care about girls' lacrosse. They probably don’t know who Ellie is and there isn’t any reason someone would recognize you when you don’t recognize them. That’s a bit of a relief. 

The boys don’t take too long and you can finally stop holding your breath.

“Those were freshmen, right? They wouldn’t know who we are?” Ellie asks, the tone of her voice quite grave. 

You reassure Ellie, but also yourself. “I doubt they know who we are. We should be fine.” 

“Okay good.” Ellie takes your hand and rubs her thumb over your palm. 

“I don’t know that this is a good spot anymore,” you mumble.

She puts her hands in her pocket with pain in her eyes. “I can’t believe it. No one comes in here after school, especially not this section.”

“Not for books,” you correct her.

Ellie’s freckled nose scrunches up. “What does that mean?”

“You’ve never hooked up in the library?” You question, having assumed that someone with Ellie’s track record had done it before. 

Her jaw drops and her green eyes are horror struck. “Why would I? Have… have you?!?”

“Uh yeah…” you scratch the back of your neck. 

“Who did you… never mind. I don’t want to know. Just for the record, I prefer the back of the locker room,” Ellie huffs. She seems to be displeased thinking about you hooking up with another girl. “But the library suits you better.” The two of you start laughing, too amused by your own stereotypes to stay jealous. 

You bow your head formally. “Why thank you, ma’am.” When you look back up at her it’s time to be serious. “We can stay here today, but we have to figure out a different spot for Thursday.”

“We need somewhere private,” Ellie agrees. 

“I have access to the chem lab for tutoring, my ID can get us in.”

“You tutor someone else in chem?!?” Ellie crosses her arms with an enormous amount of sass. 

“Ellie we’ve been over this,” you remind her.

“We have. That doesn’t mean I feel any less betrayed.”

You put a hand on her thigh under the table, if someone were to walk in they wouldn’t be able to see. “You are my favorite person I’ve ever tutored.”

“I better be. And just so you know, since my test is on Wednesday, I won’t have much work to do on Thursday. I don’t know how I’m going to keep myself occupied in a locked classroom with you,” Ellie smirks. 

You smile and shake your head. “That’s a tough one, El. What are you going to do?”

“I’ve got some ideas. But I need to study so you are going to have to wait until then to find out.” 

You continue to avoid PDA the rest of your time in the library, already anxious for the next time you can see each other, before you have even parted ways. 

You sent a selfie in the Snapchat group chat later that night using a filter that tells you which character you are from a show that you and all your friends watch. You hadn’t thought anything of it until you were being bombarded with questions about the hickeys on your neck. 

“They are from the girl that goes to North,” you lie and ignore their questions for the rest of the night. 

The next day at lunch you hear whispers about Ellie Williams in the library after school. She was seen with a girl who, believe it or not, has your hair color and skin tone. That’s crazy. 

Those damn freshmen. 

You: Good luck today!!😘💕

Space Nerd🚀🤓: Having you there is all the luck I need💚🍀

You get to Ellie’s game while the teams are still warming up. Ellie routinely looks at the bleachers as you walk around to the visitors side, searching for you, and a big smile grows on her face when she finally spots you.

The lacrosse spectators look somewhat familiar now that you’ve been to a few games. Joel is amongst them, talking to some of the other dads. It’s impossible to hear what he’s saying from this far away, but you can tell how proud he is of Ellie as he points down at her on the field. 

You watch Joel for a moment. It warms your heart to see someone care so much about Ellie. She’s so special and he cares so much, they way she deserves to be cared about. 

Joel happens to glance in your direction and makes eye contact with you. He gives you a knowing smile and you blush. Joel probably knows you are Ellie’s tutor?

But why would Joel know what Ellie’s tutor looks like? You were in the school paper recently, a picture and blurb about you and the 3 other seniors going to Ivy League Colleges. You are going to Brown.

This recognition leaves you flustered nonetheless. Another person knowing that you are connected to Ellie is overwhelming, though just as thrilling. Although it’s for the best, you don’t always love being a secret. It’s hard not to wish things were easier. 

After shaking off the self conscious feeling that had taken over you, the incessant buzzing of your phone blowing up can no longer be ignored. 

Nicole sent a screenshot of your location in the group chat. You should have expected this, she asked you to hang out and you told her you were busy and didn’t give an explanation. 

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: She’s at North👀

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: At the North LACROSSE FIELD👀🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Tee-rees-ah💟🎨🐞: Slay pussy boss queen👏🏼

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: Go get your woman!!!!!

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: You do love an athlete

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: Jackie’s JV game is right after if you want to stay and watch!!

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: You should break up with her if she doesn’t win 

But that’s just my opinion 

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: Why didn’t you invite us???? 

Do we embarrass you ma’am??  

Tee-rees-ah💟🎨🐞: Yeah we want to watch to

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: We want to meet her

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: What is her name 

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: What does she look like

Tee-rees-ah💟🎨🐞: What’s her home address

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: What’s her social security number 

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: BRB I’m going to stalk your Instagram following list  

You follow 3 North girls that have something gay in their bio which one is it

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: I’m looking too

 None of them say they play lax:/

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: I think it’s the one with 🩷🧡

Tee-rees-ah💟🎨🐞: No it’s gotta be the one committed to UCONN

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: Y’all are wrong it’s gym mirror pic girl 

You: She doesn’t have an Instagram 

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: WTF

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩

Tee-rees-ah💟🎨🐞: 😡😡😡😡😡😡 

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: We will find her 

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: Looking at the roster now 

The group chat continues to pop off, all theories about who the mystery girl is. You ignore them because the game is starting. 

Ellie is so graceful, yet domineering on the field. The way she plays it is effortless, but also so intentional. Ellie is swift and graceful, poised and confident. She looks at you every time she scores a goal.

You don’t outwardly cheer, just clap when you are supposed to. It’s painful for you not to yell Ellie’s name and jump up and down when she does something good. Unfortunately, you are ‘here for a girl from North’. You doubt anyone is paying any attention, or cares for that matter. However, you are still on a secret mission. 

At one point in the game there is a collision, a defender from your school has to be helped off the field. You can’t tell what was wrong, probably her leg, though not being able to walk on her own could mean a concussion or something. You will have to ask Ellie later and check and see if the girl is ok.  

North played a good game, but not good enough. They weren't as fast or strategic. Between Ellie and Abby, North never stood a chance. 

When the game is over you slip right out. It’s not like you can talk to Ellie anyway, plus you’ve got an essay to revise. 

You: YOU DID GREAT TODAY

KILLED IT

BEST LACROSSE PLAYER I KNOW

A SUPERSTAR

Space Nerd🚀🤓: Thank you for coming:)

It really means so much to me💚

You: I love watching you play💕

Space Nerd🚀🤓: I have to take the bus back to school but can I call you when I’m driving home?

You: Looking forward to it:)

You answer the phone when Ellie calls, proud of her performance out on the field today. “My superstar! Fresh off another win!”

“Well I did have my lucky charm there,” she tried to remind you, deflect from herself. 

“Shhhhhhhh. That was all you, babe,” you assure her, truly meaning it. She doesn’t need any luck. 

“Babe?” Ellie questions and you are unable to gauge her reaction to the use of the pet name from her tone. You wish you could see her facial expression and read her body language right now. 

Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! You really did mess this up, didn’t you. Nice job, valiant effort. But you really screwed up. Goodbye short fling that has changed your life, you will be greatly missed. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I…” you stutter, fearing you’ve made a grave mistake.

Ellie cuts you off. “I didn’t mean it that way. Not at all. I like it. A lot.” She doesn’t sound as confident as usual, more bashful. 

You are still nervous. This thing between the two of you? You aren’t quite sure that you will ever get used to it. It may never make sense. “So… it’s okay if I call you babe?”

“Yeah,” she responds immediately, making it sound as if it’s something you should have already known. “As long as it’s okay if I call you babe.”

“I think I can make that deal,” you laugh. 

“So what’s up babe?” Ellie asks, giggling. 

“Currently taking an intermission from essay revision.”

“That sounds riveting.” Effortlessly sarcastic, poking fun at you. That excites you, joking around with each other, the playful banter. 

“Hey I was wondering, what happened to that girl that got hurt? The defender that crashed into that tall girl while she was trying to score a goal. Is she okay? She looked like she could hardly walk.”

“Oh fuck! That happened, didn’t it. She dislocated her knee. Knee cap was totally in the wrong spot. Looked like a broken joystick. Super gross. It’s the 3rd time she’s done it so she has to get surgery. She’s out for the season now. At least she is a junior and not a senior.”

“Damn. That really sucks, I feel so bad for her.” You can’t imagine being taken away from something you’ve put so much work into. 

“Same. She’s our best defender too. And she’s the second one to get hurt this season. Now coach has to pull a player up from JV.”

“Hopefully that helps.”

“There is a freshman, actually, who is really good. Coach didn’t pull her up at the beginning of the season because we didn’t need another defender then. Her name is Jackie I think.”

“Jackie Laurent?”

“Yeah. You know her?”

“Jackie is Melissa’s younger sister,” Ellie is silent. “You probably have no idea who that is, do you. Caroline is one of my best friends. I’ve known Jackie since she was a toddler!” You are so proud of her. She’s been on the lacrosse grind for probably 10 years. Always up before everyone else when you slept over so she could go for a run. 

“Well maybe you will have an excuse to come to away games now,” Ellie proposes, her voice higher up in pitch than normal because she is so exhilarated. 

“Shit, you’re right! I’ll make it work,” you promise.

“You don’t even know how happy that makes me, babe.”

“Me too!”

You are both quiet for a moment, just so happy that you have to take a second to appreciate it. You can tell how wired Ellie is, you hear her drumming her hands on the steering wheel. 

“Joel says hi by the way, he saw you at the game,” Ellie informs you. 

That makes you gasp out loud. “Hi?… He said… how does he even know who I am?!?

“Well, I’m not usually so attached to my phone, he started asking questions. I ended up telling him about you. How you are nice, and smart, and beautiful, and amazing. Then he saw that Ivy League article in the school paper,” Ellie explains. “He was impressed. But not as much as he was surprised. Thinks you are out of my league. You know you’re the first girl I’ve ever bothered to tell him anything about?”

“Really?” It’s hard to believe you stand out from the rest, were more worth the conversation. 

“I’ve never really done the relationship thing before,” Ellie admits.

You knew that, knew her reputation, heard all the rumors. “But you could have, every girl at our school loves you.”

Ellie clears her throat. “They love that I’m popular and good in bed. No girl has ever cared to get to know me. They just wanted to say that they did. Casual… it wasn’t what I wanted. What I wanted was to feel wanted.”

You feel your heart breaking. “They all missed out. Big time. I’m so happy I’ve gotten to know you, I’m lucky to have had the opportunity. I care so, so much about you. You are incredibly special, Ellie.”

“You really think so?” Her voice is soft and shy. 

“I know you are. I’ve never met a girl like you before. And I mean that in the best way possible. Being assigned as your tutor is one of the best things that has ever happened to me.”

“Me too. And not just because you saved my grades. You saved me from feeling like I wasn’t good enough.” Her voice cracked on the word ‘good’.

“Ellie…” your chest hurts. You try to find the right words to comfort her but she keeps talking before you manage to string a sentence together. 

“I really mean that. I didn’t think I was worth more than a hookup or being something to show off. That I couldn’t offer anything that wasn’t just physical. But you want me, even though no one knows that you have me. You helped me see what I’ve had inside of me all along.”

You take a sharp breath, trying to keep yourself from getting too emotional. “You are so important to me. You always will be.”

“I don’t think you understand the impact you’ve made on my life.” A subdued confession from Ellie, who is seemingly nervous to reveal this to you. 

“I don’t think you understand the impact you’ve made on my life,” you emphasize, you want Ellie to know how much you value her. 

Ellie pauses for a moment. You aren’t used to her being so quiet, you’re unsure of whether or not you should be nervous. 

“That’s enough being sappy for today,” she sighs. “I’d rather look you in the eyes when I tell you this type of stuff.”

“That’s so sweet,” you like this emotional and vulnerable side of Ellie, getting to see deeper inside of her. 

“So is your face.” Ellie really is slick, isn’t she. Always got a line to pull out of her pocket. 

“Your freckles are sweet and cute,” you point out. 

“Well now I have a bruise on my face from today’s game,” Ellie grumbles. 

How dare someone go anywhere near such a precious beautiful face with such aggression? 

“What?” You practically yell into the phone. “Who did that? I’m going to find them and give them a piece of my mind!” You hear a little “hehe” from Ellie and you don’t appreciate her lack of respect for how much you like looking at her face. 

“Babe,” her voice is soothing to help bring you back down a notch. “We won, isn’t that what really matters?”

You let out a disappointed huff. “I guess.”

Ellie laughs. “Let me handle all the fist fights, okay?”

“No! I’m begging you please don’t get into a fist fight.”

“Begging?” Her voice is lower and more intense than usual. It’s hot. But you do need to get your point across. 

“Ellie please!”

“That’s exactly what I like to hear.” She’s doing her best to try and seduce you. It’s working for sure, but you can’t have her going around fighting people.

Your mouth curved into a frown, trying to think of the best way to get her to listen to you. “I know how to get through to you,” you tell her after a brief pause to collect your thoughts. “Don’t get rough with anyone but me.”

Ellie makes a sound that is almost like a moan. “Well when you put it that way…”

“No more fights?” You question with urgency. She doesn’t need any trouble or injuries. 

“I won’t start any fights,” she promises.

“Always throw the last punch, but never the first.”

Ellie chuckles. “I think you and Joel will get along.”

“I hope so.” You bite your lip. You know how important he is to Ellie, the thought of him not liking you makes you feel sick to your stomach. 

“He’s met other girls… in passing, and let’s just say no one’s ever… made a good impression. Or that he was fond of my, uh, behaviors,” she explains sheepishly. 

You tease her. “I’ve made an honest woman out of you.”

“You really have. I think you are the answer to Joel’s prayers.”

“Truly an angel sent from above,” you joke. 

“Sure look like one.” This girl really is smooth. 

“Why don’t you tell me more about Joel.”

Ellie starts to talk about Joel, her admiration for him present in her tone. She explains that he will be quiet at first. Probably get to know you before he lets you get to know him. He can get along with anyone, he’s a great guy, but he likes his time to himself. Values peace and quiet. She doesn’t explain the history of their relationship. Just that they've been through a lot together, and that she’s going to miss him a lot when she leaves for college. 

You realize you hadn't talked about this yet with her. “Where are you going to college?”

“Boston.”

“Boston College??” You question, that makes the most sense, but also not a lot. 

“Yeah,” Ellie tells you proudly. 

“How did you…” you trail off. You don’t want to offend her, but Boston College is not easy to get into. 

She chuckles. “Get in? Well my grades weren’t always so bad. Not until after I got into college and started fucking around full time. I was a solid B student before that. Don’t get me wrong, my grades weren’t good enough, but my coach is an alumni and had some pull.”

Lacrosse, that checks out. You know Ellie has academic potential, but Boston College has such a low acceptance rate. “So they are good at lacrosse?”

“Last year's national champions,” she states matter of factly, proud of herself. As she should be! 

“Shit. You really are good at lacrosse, aren’t you? I knew you were good, but I had no measure for comparison. It’s like trying to understand the force of an object on another planet. A completely different gravitational constant!”

“I know exactly what you mean babe,” Ellie snickers, and you silently scold yourself for nerding out on her. “When I heard you were going to Brown, I did some research. About an hour drive between us. I didn’t want to say anything right away though and be weird.”

That kills your good mood. Not the research, thinking about the reality of what will happen to the two of you when you leave for college. There isn’t even a label on your relationship yet. You probably won’t even make it to senior prom together because you are keeping things a secret. “You are going to be playing on a D1, nationally ranked team, with girls throwing themselves at you. You’ll forget all about your high school tutor.” Sad, but true. 

“You aren’t just my tutor! You are so much more than that. And even if you were, you are the hottest tutor on the planet. You’ll pull as a tutor, no doubt. But I bet you are going to be a teacher's assistant too, and have entire college lectures full of women in STEM falling for you.” Ellie sounds almost a little… panicked? She’s jealous? Does she really care that much? Is there hope for the two of you?

The overexaggerated implication is very amusing to you. Her jealousy has you feeling a little lighter, it reminded you how much she cares.  “So we both have some competition,” you joke. 

“I will be visiting Brown, and fending those smart girls off with my lacrosse stick if I have to.” There isn't a hint of sarcasm in Ellie’s voice. You can picture it now, her threatening some Ivy League engineering student in her full lacrosse get up. 

“I’ll have some heavy textbooks to bring to your games,” you tell her as seriously as you can, but you can’t say it all without giggling. 

“You are stuck with me now. No other girl is catching my attention. You are my girl. I only want you.” Ellie’s voice is stern, the way a life guard tells you not to dive in the shallow end. Like it’s about safety… maybe it’s about security. 

Your heart flutters, hearing Ellie vocalize her dedication to you. That requires a deep breath to try and settle your racing pulse.  “Good, because I don’t back down from things so easily. Would have been really annoying for you.”

“I much prefer you to go down than back down.” There’s that unserious charm you know and love. 

“I’m sure you would. I’ll make note of that,” you promise her. 

“There will be a test.”

“Well the only straight thing about me is my As.”

“You are starting to sound like me,” Ellie points out mischievously. “But I just pulled onto my street, so I’ll say goodbye now, and text you later?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Talk to you later, babe.”

“Bye, babe!”

When you park your car the next morning you have a text from Ellie. “Don’t go into homeroom right away.”

Your locker isn’t far from the room so you wait there, you know she knows where it is. The locker door is left ajar, to make it seem like there’s a purpose for standing there. No sign of her anywhere. The bell rings and you hope she’s close by, you don’t want to be too late. 

The last of the students that had been milling around start going to their respective home rooms. Then you spot her.

Auburn hair, half up half down. Beat up converse. Ripped jeans. A black t-shirt under a black and gray flannel. Ellie is waiting down the hall from you, looking smug. She waves at you and you are surprised, you aren’t totally alone, but wave right back. Ellie doesn’t move towards you though. She just watches, like she’s expecting you to leave right away. 

But you know what? Fuck it.

You shut your locker and strut towards her. Shoulders back, chin in the air. There’s only two other people in the hallway at this point. As you approach her, she looks very surprised, but just as happy. When you are right in front of her you look and see the two other student’s backs are to you. You give her a kiss, turn around, and go to your homeroom. 

Tags: @bready101, @st4r-b3rries, @tlou-bombshell, @stvrs13, @dinanellie, @everegretseverything, @mikellie, @lamolaine, @0pheli4, @soupycloud, @radioheadfan699, @callmelola111, @hysteriawillnotsuccumb, @normalthing111, @3isosoup, @lmaoo-spiderman, @cqliflower, @ellstronaut

(I most of these aren't even tagging, if you are tagged and it's not working lmk, I can try and fix it!!! I also think some people have changed usernames so if you have, I can replace it!!

[alloftheimaginesblog]

webcam {peter parker}

inspired by a post by @dailyau

We're the only two with our cameras on on this Zoom call and you are so pretty AU

character: peter parker x female reader

For college, you had enrolled in an extra advanced bioscience course, it helped to get your grade up and it was only two hours a week. It was a Saturday morning so it took up a small part of your weekend but it covered 10% of your overall grade so you were happy to do so. It was a lot of just listening to the tutor explain things and the PowerPoints were always sent to you afterwards so all you had to do was show face and you could catch up on the reading at a later date.

You were sitting at your desk trying your best to look interested as the tutor droned on and on. You noticed that you and one other person had your cameras on, aside from the lecturer. His name was Peter, you read off his screen. He looked to be around your age and looked as interested in the course as you did. He was tapping his pencil against his lip as his other hang ran through his hair. He was quite handsome, you thought before shaking yourself out of thoughts about boys and tried once more to concentrate...

It wasn't long before your eyes wandered back to the mysterious Peter.

Peter Parker sat with his eyes glued to the screen trying to look interested but all he could focus on was you. You weren't doing the same course and he'd not seen you around campus so he could only assume you went to a different college too. You were... gorgeous. He couldn't concentrate on anything but the grainy image of you with your hair in a messy bun and the way your nose scrunched in concentration.

He cleared his throat, rubbing a tired hand over his face as he tried to stop staring at you. He grabbed his latest spider trinket and began to fiddle with it but it didn't take long before his eyes found their way back to you. You were sipping some coffee was it? Tea? He wondered if you liked coffee, what kind of coffee was your favourite? A latte? Black? Maybe he could take you out for coffee.

Feeling a little brave, Peter moved his mouse so that the cursor hovered over your video. "(y/n)..." He murmured softly, "pretty." His eyes darted to the mute button just making sure he was definitely muted before he right clicked on your video. A list of options appeared and Peter selected Send Message.

For about ten minutes, he typed, deleted and retyped a message over and over again. Peter never did anything like this, he wasn't usually so brave or so bold but maybe it was the coffee he'd downed at 8am but he was sending you something, he just wasn't sure what. Eventually he settled for something and with a deep breath he hit Send.

Peter Parker: @(yourname) hi so this is random and hopefully not weird but it's just me and you with webcams on and i just want to tell you that you are so unbelievably pretty. I'm Peter. Peter Parker by the way.

He waited with baited breath and could see the moment you read the message as a wide smile crept onto your face and your hand pressed against your face bashfully. He grinned.

"Mr Parker," the lecturer's voice sounded, breaking his happiness, "I appreciate that you this Miss (Y/L/N) is unbelievably pretty but please send her these messages using the private function. Right click and select Send Private Message... And do it out with my lesson. Thank you."

Peter's face fell and his cheeks immediately turned bright red, "Oh, fuck!" He hissed as he scrambled up to sit up straighter in his seat. Quickly he hit the unmute button, "I am so, so sorry!" He panicked, "I-I'm sorry!"

The lecturer rolled their eyes but the hint of a smile was on his face as he continued.

Messages pinged in which made Peter hide his head in his hands.

Helen L.: lmao cringe parker

John P: he's right, she's pretty

Sheryl M: i'd die if that happened to me smh

Jadyn A: yo pete sorry that happened my guy

Peter spared a glance at the screen to see that you were fanning at your face, you must've been rather embarrassed by that all too. Peter debated whether or not to send you an apology message, he hadn't meant to put you in the centre of attention like that but a minute later, a message dinged from you.

(y/n): This is how you send private messages, dummy.

Peter: im so fucking embarrassed im so sorry

(y/n): Don't be, most exciting thing to happen today. A cute boy calls me pretty? As Charlie Sheen once said... winning.

Peter laughed.

Peter: I meant it. You are seriously the prettiest girl I've ever seen.

(y/n): thank you peter parker. what college are you at

Peter: ESU, you?

(y/n): NYU. You near Brooklyn?

Peter: Queens so yeah decently close, why?

(y/n): well you can't embarrass me like that in front of the whole class and not take me for lunch or coffee or something right? ;)

Peter: seriously? i'd love to! when suits cause i would love to take you out if youre serious

(y/n): here's my number, text me and we can figure it out

Peter: Amazing! I'll text you as soon as this lesson wraps up

He was smiling like an idiot but he noticed that you were too. The last twenty minutes of the lecture dragged in, his foot tapped impatiently on the floor, he was itching to text you, itching to get to know the pretty girl behind the camera. And as soon as the lecturer said goodbye, Peter left the zoom call and grabbed his phone to text you. He hadn't felt this good about something - someone - in a long time so why would he wait? Why not dive in head first?

[papermatisse]

Let Me Try Again || K.SY

♗ pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader

♗ genre: angst, fluff

♗ word count: 30k

♗ warnings: heavy plot + elements (depression, anxiety, abandonment), pregnancy, foul language

♗ synopsis: Soonyoung had never wanted to live a restrained capitalistic life, forced to work a tiresome 9 to 5, paying taxes until the day he dies. Though in exchange to pursue the other option, that being devotion to a career, he had to pay an unfathomably large price—he had to abandon everything and everyone he's ever loved. can he fit himself back into his former life? one that's changed more than he can possibly imagine? could the ones he loved forgive him for his wrongdoings? could he get the second chance he wants so desperately?

♗ (a/n): im back w my bs uwu. one of my biggest fics, named after Frank Sinatra's "Let Me Try Again". pls give it a read and enjoy! 😭🙏❤️

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Soonyoung breathed a sigh of relief upon stepping off the plane. Though he was still trapped in the crowd of other passengers, scrambling to meet with their respective families and collect their baggage, he had never felt so free.

College was an experience, to say the least. He had his fair share of fun, partying and meeting new friends. Sometimes those parties went awry, with either cops showing up to dismantle the chaotic atmosphere or Soonyoung drinking more than he could handle. He also experienced those painful nights of cramming, staying up until the crack of dawn, eyes near bloodshot, faint lines of text imprinted in his vision for the next few minutes as he turned away from his textbooks.

Many times, he was sure he'd fail, ruin his life forever. The life he had worked tirelessly to prepare for. The life he traded everything for, leaving behind his family, his friends. The girl he had sworn he'd marry one day.

Yet here he was, Master's degree now printed on his resume in a single additional line. A new and accomplished man, ready to take on the world.

And it seemed his efforts were already coming to use as he left his university. He had already gotten a fairly reasonable job offer; a software engineer in the tech department of SVT Corporations. It was a major industry, a rare job offer he'll probably never see again in his lifetime. It had to be pure luck. That he was in the right place at the right time. A surreal experience, that he was able to land such a fantastic start to his career.

Though before accepting, he decided to return to his roots one last time. A final goodbye to his past. The foundation which supported him up to this point. His childhood home. 

Being away for so long was quite the challenge for Soonyoung. He had always been a family man, someone who always put his loved ones before himself. Though as he grew older, his priorities admittedly shifted. Yet there still remained that tug in his heart, swaying him back to his loved ones, reminding him that though he wished to give himself the stable life he had always craved, he could never truly sacrifice everything for himself.

So to have to pack up and move across the country for years was truly a harrowing feat, though one he nevertheless conquered.

It was difficult, a trial he never really prepared himself for because he never believed he'd have to endure it. That dull ache in his heart that first time he video called his mother. Watching her face appear on his screen, grainy from the lousy connection, though still there. Still his loving mother. She cried for him, proud he was doing this for himself. Happy that her son was going to have a future as an engineer. What more could a mother want but the joy of her children?

He remained where he was for all those years. Never once flying back home. Because he feared that the moment he stepped foot in his town, he'd stay. The memories of his past calling out to him. The treehouse his friends and him always frequented. The bowling alley Seokmin and him would spend hours in avoiding schoolwork. The park he confessed his love to his crush. 

Yet as he stepped off the terminal, breathing in the air of his hometown for the first time in six years, he felt his worries were for naught.

He had heard his family before he had seen them, sister all but colliding into him the moment she spotted him. Tears brimmed his eyes as he held her for the first time in years, surprised at how grown she had become. Afterwards came his mother who had already been crying long before she had seen him, and then his father who also looked equally misty eyed.

For the first time in a long while, Soonyoung felt somewhat complete. 

His first day back had been spent with his family. Catching up with them, sharing his stories from college, hearing some of the family drama he missed out on.

At the dinner table, as they continued to converse with one another, his father had asked what his plans were.

He told him that he had been given a job offer that he was supposed to answer by the end of the month.

The news definitely dampened the mood, as he basically admitted right then and there that they would only have Soonyoung for four weeks before he was to leave them once more. Nevertheless, they chose to cherish the little time they had with Soonyoung, refusing to dwell upon the inevitable and instead thrive in the happiness he granted them with his presence.

The next day, he was already calling his friends again, digging through his old contacts and hoping none of them had changed their numbers. Though more specifically, he hoped Seokmin hadn't changed his number. 

He pressed the contact, smiling fondly at the silly display before him. An old picture of the boy from when they went to the pool, the dual ensemble of a swimming cap paired with a tiny set of black goggles. It was dumb, yet ever nostalgic, and still brought joy to Soonyoung as he finally dialed the number, pressing his phone to his ear. 

Upon the first ring, Soonyoung felt himself gulp, nearly choking on the descent down his throat. His thoughts began hitting him all at once. 

What if Seokmin didn't want Soonyoung anymore? He did just leave with no other words after getting on that plane. What if Seokmin hated him?

Second ring.

Why didn't Soonyoung just talk to his friends? He knew he was busy, but he shouldn't have been too busy for his childhood friends? Why couldn't he just keep in contact at the least? A simple greeting every so often wouldn't have hurt him. 

Third ring. 

Soonyoung felt his face redden with anxiety, his heart rate picking up. Worries of whether he truly did lose his lifelong friend riddled his mind. His fingers clutched at his jeans, gulping again as his nerves burned within him. 

"Hello?" A voice chimed through his phone, the familiar voice of his best friend wading into his ear, easing Soonyoung's frantic worries as a grin stretched on his face.

"Hello," Soonyoung responded, biting his lip as silence filled the other line. Just from assumptions alone, Seokmin must've pulled his phone away, getting a gander at the contact that called him, because a distant gasp sounded out before the voice was once more right at the mic. 

"Soonyoung!" He hollered, nearly bursting his eardrum as he laughed at his friend's reaction. "Holy shit, dude, what's up! It's been literal ages! How've you been?" 

"I'm good, I'm good," Soonyoung answered, looking down at his lap. "I just graduated."

"Oh, I'm talking to an educated man, I see," Seokmin noted, bringing a chuckle to Soonyoung. "Well, Sir Academia, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" 

"Well, I'm home." It was quiet for a moment, so quiet that Soonyoung believed his friend may have hung up, but then he chimed in moments later. 

"Wait, home home? Like, here home?" 

"I'm at my parents house right now–"

"Oh my God! Stay there! I'll be there in ten minutes, okay!" The man suddenly hung up, causing Soonyoung to break out into more laughs at his friend's manic behavior.

At least he hadn't lost him. It felt like a light weight was lifted from his shoulders. That his bond with Seokmin was strong enough to persevere through these years. He still regretted cutting off everyone, though was still incredibly relieved at such a development.

The moment Seokmin pulled up, he was practically dragging Soonyoung away, shoving him into his car after a dramatic hug, and driving off. 

"I'm taking you to everyone," Seokmin explained as they made their way through the town.

Soonyoung smiled at the sights they passed. Nothing had changed. As if he hadn't ever left. As if the town was frozen in time, waiting for his return to thaw back to the present. It was comforting, a constant in his life he could rely on. 

The first person they went to was Seungcheol, working at his mother's real estate agency. They had waited for him to look up from his desk, and when he met their eyes, his facade of professionalism evaporated, the suited man leaping to his feet and practically hopping over his desk to embrace Soonyoung. The others in the office looked to them with terror at the display, but that didn't stop Seungcheol from lifting his long lost friend in the air, hugging him nearly to death with a bright smile on his face. 

Their next stop was Jeonghan and Joshua's apartment, the two of them having off from their jobs for the day. Seokmin had knocked on their door, to which neither of them answered. Insisting that he knew they were in there, Seokmin continued to knock until a disgruntled Jeonghan finally whipped open the door, about to tell off the supposed loiterers at his door until he saw Soonyoung. The fanfare continued as Joshua came out, coming to investigate what all the ruckus was about, though inevitably joining alongside his roommate with welcoming Soonyoung back. 

This continued for the rest of the day practically, Seokmin dragging Soonyoung to every corner of the city, reuniting with his old friend group. Mingyu had regrettably grown even taller since they last spoke, Vernon's fashion sense had mellowed over the years, and Chan looked so grown, the sight of the young man almost bringing tears to Soonyoung's eyes.

"You really didn't have to do this for me, Seokmin. I was planning on just calling everyone eventually and planning meetups," Soonyoung explained as Seokmin drove them back from Chan's place. The sun was setting, the sky an orange pink hue as the day was nearing its end; a day well spent in Soonyoung's book. 

"No worries at all!" Seokmin assured, waving his hand in the air before returning it to the steering wheel. "It gives me time to hang out with my best friend who abandoned me all these years." Soonyoung rolled his eyes and sighed as Seokmin laughed. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I knew you were busy. You got your Master's pretty early, too."

"I did, I did." Soonyoung sighed. Rather than it being necessarily early, it was mainly right on time. Though it cost him so much to stay on this schedule. "It was difficult, especially being away from everyone." He paused, smiling as he thought back on the day. At the faces of his friends he hasn't seen in so long. He hadn't realized how much he missed them until he was there in front of them. Hearing them speak for the first time in years, seeing how they changed while he was away, seeing them become settled in their lives, finding that happiness everyone sought for. "I should've at least texted you."

"What'd I say?" Seokmin parked his car, turning his head to face Soonyoung. "No. Worries." He poked his finger into Soonyoung's side with each word. "We all understood, you were chasing your dreams. We wouldn't want anything different. And knowing you, you were bound to come back." Seokmin patted his friend on the shoulder.

"Thanks." Soonyoung smiled softly at the comforting words directed to him.

He had been so worried everyone would have been upset he just left them and never spoke again, but after today, he knew everyone missed him just as much as he missed them. 

Though through all the joy in him, past the relief he felt upon meeting his friends once more, one thought plagued his mind. 

"Hey," he began warily, attracting Seokmin's attention, "How's (y/n)?"

Seokmin grinned at the name, though not as ecstatic as his usual wide smile. More so one of familiarity, comfort, fondness.

"She's great, we just hung out last week. Her, Seungkwan, and I.'' Seokmin said, bringing a smile to Soonyoung's face. He was glad to hear that. That they all remained friends after he left. After he broke her heart, and left her behind. Before he could speak though, Seokmin continued, his words all but halting Soonyoung's every thought. "It's really hard to plan things with her since she has to adjust her schedule to fit both us and her kid, but she still makes the effort."

"Her... kid?" Soonyoung's voice was weak, barely even louder than the air conditioning hitting his face, but Seokmin heard nevertheless. He glanced at him in confusion before realization hit him, eyes widening and jaw dropping. 

"Oh, nobody told you!" He shouted in shock, glancing around the street they were on before swiftly recalculating his destination, making a U-turn all of a sudden. "Yeah, she has a daughter! Little Chaerim."

Soonyoung's face blanked, his chest tightening at the information relayed to him. 

She had a kid. So many things had changed during his time away, like Minghao taking up meditation, Jihoon becoming a famous producer, even Jeonghan adding more furniture to his pet rock's house. But (y/n) having a kid? 

For as long as he could remember, Soonyoung had the biggest crush on (y/n). Starting from their first meeting at the age of 11, his feelings only seemed to spiral deeper and deeper with every year until he had finally asked her out in the middle of highschool.

They were highschool sweethearts. The epitome of a perfect relationship. They never got into fights, unlike the other relationships around them which seemed to fizzle with the angst of teenage development. They were never jealous, having this undeniable trust in one another, enough to grant them comfort with one another from just the mere thought of the other, and no random addition of a person could tarnish that mentality. They were mature, treating their relationship as something which should be cherished and nurtured, never once treating the other disrespectfully or tarnishing the perfect bond they had. 

That is until after highschool, when Soonyoung was accepted into his college across the country. 

It all began crumbling after that. Doubt riddled his mind soon after.

Whether he could truly keep (y/n) happy from such a great distance. Could he manage a long distance relationship and his studies? Would he have to put one over the other? If he did, then his grades would tank, because he wouldn't have the heart to put his school before her in any scenario. Should he just abandon everything, throw away this idea of self fulfillment for love? Find a regular 9 to 5 to support him and (y/n)?  He'd stay with her, but at what cost? Soonyoung never wanted to work a job like that. To live a life where everyday, waking up felt like a task, and his only reprieve was the peace of sleep. It's why he was struggling with this debacle in the first place. 

Whether to put his happiness or her happiness first? 

Yet at the end of the day, he chose the former. He couldn't possibly give her the happy life she deserved if he himself was miserable. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he brought her any form of misery, like the lack of a devout husband. Someone she was forced to watch crumble with every passing day, nothing more than a shell of what he once was. His vibrancy extracted through the shackles of capitalism until he could no longer handle it. Until not only his will to be happy dissipated, but also his will to make her happy, gone like everything else. He couldn't condemn her to such a cruel inevitability. 

As much as it pained him to admit it, it would be much better for him to let her go, give her the chance to find the happiness she deserves, which clearly didn't belong to a monster like him.

And so he let her go.

He had been so distracted he hadn't even acknowledged Seokmin parking again in yet another unfamiliar apartment building. 

"We're here!" He announced, stepping out of the car excitedly. Soonyoung on the other hand stepped out warily, glancing around as if he'd see her waiting for him, glaring in disdain at the man who shattered her heart and left. 

All the while, Seokmin raved about Chaerim as they made their way to her apartment. He talked about how cute she is, how she's the sweetest thing he's ever seen, how Soonyoung would just love her. 

Yet her mere existence seemed to haunt Soonyoung, torment him the longer he knew of her existence. Because she stands as a testament of (y/n) moving on from him. 

Before he knew it, they stopped before a door.

It was just like any other along the narrow corridor, though it felt much more daunting to him, knowing who was behind it. 

"Watch this," Seokmin whispered excitedly, cracking his knuckles before placing both on the door. He began rapping a beat on the wood which went on for longer than any knock should . He then stepped back proudly, a smile on his face as he looked back at Soonyoung, patiently waiting for something to happen. They could hear muffled shouting through the door, growing louder and louder to the point that Soonyoung could now very clearly make out the voice to be saying "Uncle Seokmin!" on repeat.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Time seemed to stop as a tiny face peeked out, smiling brightly up at his friend who then crouched with outstretched arms. The girl had leapt into his arms, giggling as he lifted her up and hugged her. 

Soonyoung felt his breathing pick up, seeing the little girl buried in Seokmin's shirt. That little girl was the daughter of his true love. The one girl he had always adored. The girl he all but abandoned.

But she wasn't his daughter. 

And though that fact lingered over him  treacherously, reminding him of his past faults, reminding him that he could've had that had he chosen (y/n) at the end, he still attempted to push away his negative thoughts, offering the girl a smile as he waited for Seokmin to acknowledge him.

Once the enthusiasm subsided, Seokmin finally did turn to him again. 

"Chaerim, I'd like you to meet my friend, Soonyoung."

The girl looked up at him, peeking over from beneath Seokmin's chin at the strange man a few feet away from her. And as their eyes met, Soonyoung felt his heart all but collapse, watching two sharp, angular eyes peering at him curiously. Eyes which quirked upwards at their ends… Just like his. 

His expression dropped, the color of his skin draining as she revealed all of her face to him, and it felt as if Soonyoung were looking directly into a mirror. She stared at him so resolutely, his own panic seeming nonsensical from how calm she remained, merely resting against Seokmin as she continued to look at Soonyoung, observing as you would an animal exhibit. 

"Chaerim!" A voice hollered from inside the opened apartment. A person emerged from the hall within, making her way swiftly to the entry, exasperated as if this were a daily occurrence in her life. As the woman appeared at the door, Soonyoung realized who it was. 

Jihyo, (y/n)'s best friend. 

She looked to Seokmin and Chaerim for a moment, silently acknowledging that the situation is handled, before looking to Soonyoung, standing there starstruck with his mouth agape, glancing between Jihyo and Chaerim. 

Jihyo's face shifted from indifference at everything, to shock upon seeing Soonyoung, to then near terror, brows arched in surprise as she froze in place, much like Soonyoung at the moment. 

"Was it Seokmin?" Another voice resounded from the apartment. A soft, lull like voice which carried in the air, light and delicate with its tone as it hit Soonyoung, a familiarity which lit his nerves though also seemed to melt him into butter.

And then she appeared, rounding the same corner as Jihyo. Soonyoung felt his knees buckle, weak against her mere presence which seemed to dominate the entire room. She looked up, stopping mid step as she met Soonyoung's eyes, and regrettably to his disappointment, instant fear washed across her expression, a fact which seemed to stab at Soonyoung's heart. That he was no longer the one who brought her peace or comfort like he once did so long ago. That she looked to him as you would any unwelcomed stranger. 

"Is everyone okay?" Seokmin asked, the only person who wasn't in some stare down with another.

Yet before he could question it any further, Chaerim began squirming in his arms, crawling out of his embrace before bounding towards her mom. (y/n) hesitantly crouched, scooping the young girl up and into her arms, who then began whispering into her ear, legs kicking excitedly. With a shaky breath, (y/n) smiled to her guests.

"Seokmin!" She greeted first, voice wavering as she approached the door. "And Soonyoung! Please, why don't you all come in." Her hand landed on Jihyo's shoulder, snapping her out of her stupor before she backed away, allowing the boys to enter the home. 

Jihyo muttered a brief, "excuse us," before she was dragging the two girls down the hall. Soonyoung looked worriedly to their retreating forms.

The way (y/n) said his name.

She once said it with such adoration. Calling out to him from across the courtyard at school, referring to him in the middle of a conversation, whispering to him late in the night when they embraced one another. His name alone once felt so loved because she said it. Because she spoke love into it. With every syllable, with every roll of her tongue, as if speaking an entire ballad of her affections, though it was merely his name.

Now she spoke his name tentatively. As if it were poison on the tip of her tongue. As if she were stepping through a field of landmines. As if it was taboo to be spoken. 

He felt tears brimming at his eyes. Selfish tears, ones which shouldn't be shed because he condemned himself to this reality. He was the one who pushed her away. He was the one who left her home, ignoring the silent cries she left behind, ignoring the way his heart fought tooth and nail to turn back and return to her. He was the one who got onto that plane, drowning in his own sorrows as he flew further and further away from her. Away from his other half.

He once believed everyone was a whole, and that some people just made one larger whole once together, and would stay as their original wholes once separated. Yet here he was, a broken half of a man, whose other piece was left shattered and abandoned by him. 

And he still felt like that. He could feel his dormant heart stirring alive with pointless hope, beating against his rib cage as if wanting to break free and reunite with her. Yet like he always did, he ran away, walking over to her living room and sitting beside Seokmin.

"Cute, isn't she?" Seokmin nudged Soonyoung, a warm smile on his face as he referred to the young girl. "God, I just want to squish her cheeks all day. So round. Doesn't she remind you of a hamster?"

"No," Soonyoung answered faster than he had intended, shocking even himself with his thoughts. That he wasn't a hamster, so she couldn't possibly be a hamster either. He shook his head, attempting to clear away his assumptions as Seokmin chuckled. 

"You're probably right. That won't stop me from calling her my hamster though," Seokmin continued. Soonyoung leant forward onto his knees, steadying his breathing before the girls would eventually return. "You know, I'm her Godfather." 

Soonyoung looked over to him, brows furrowed in intrigue. 

"Yeah, (y/n) insisted," He continued. "I was one of the only people who knew about her pregnancy, so I was taking care of her with Jihyo for those few months." Soonyoung felt his eyes water. The thought that she was struggling so much while he was away at college. And he knew absolutely nothing. "I was even the one who drove her to the hospital when she went into labor, cause Jihyo was working at the time."

There was some relief in him at this. That she wasn't entirely alone. That though he left her behind, she still had others to care for her. He felt obligated to thank Seokmin for his efforts. For being there for her when he wasn't. For taking care of this child like she was his own. 

Chaerim.

Soonyoung was about to question him further, about to ask him more of his dear god daughter, until Jihyo appeared from the halls, hands clasped together with a nervous laugh resounding from her. 

"Okay, hello everybody, how are we feeling?" She asked, sitting on the loveseat beside them. "Sorry, we're all understandably shocked to see Soonyoung, you know?"

"No, we completely understand," Seokmin waved her off. "We should've told you guys on our way here, I just got excited." He nodded towards Soonyoung beside him. "He didn't know about Chaerim! Can you believe that?" 

"Insane," Jihyo responded, her voice monotonous as she stared blankly back at the two. 

Soon after, the final members of the party came out once more, Chaerim immediately making her way over to Seokmin again. He brought the girl to his lap, brushing back her black hair as (y/n) took a seat in front of them on her coffee table. 

"Hi," She greeted them all, though her eyes landed on none other than Soonyoung. 

"Hi," He responded, voice soft, afraid he would startle her and she'd run off. He wouldn't blame her though. He did the exact same thing. 

"Seokmin, let's go to the kitchen." Jihyo began walking off, Seokmin following after. Chaerim was peeking over his shoulder, still staring right at Soonyoung up until she disappeared into the kitchen. 

"How have you been?" (y/n) continued. He stared momentarily at the kitchen before turning back to her with a wry smile. 

"I'm okay," He answered. "I just graduated. Master's in software engineering." 

"That's amazing, congratulations!" She noted, a smile spreading on her face, though not reaching her eyes. "I'm happy to hear that. You must be so proud." 

Soonyoung winced at her words, because she seemed to unknowingly see right through him. She may not be fully aware, but he was filled with doubt. Yes, he achieved what he set out for. He got his Master's, he's got the job offer, he's got his life laid out before him, and all he had to do was live it out accordingly. Yet he was full of doubt. Doubt because he was still riddled with sorrow, wondering if things would've been better had he given up on this plan. If he could've accommodated, still involved (y/n) in his life, and just worked a little harder to keep her beside him through the long distance relationship. 

At the end of it all, that unhappiness he believed he'd have working a basic 9 to 5 equated to the unhappiness he felt living a life without (y/n). 

"Soonyoung?" She asked, startling him back to reality. 

"I'm sorry. I zoned out." She softly chuckled, nodding at his words with a soft affirmation. She looked down to her lap, fiddling with her fingers as silence encompassed the two. And as much as he didn't want to ask, as much as he knew it was inappropriate for the time being, he couldn't help it. He couldn't fight back the curiosity flooding his brain. "You have a daughter…"

She froze for a moment, hands wringing together before she looked up at him with a smile. 

"I do, yes." (y/n) pulled out her phone before handing it to him, showing her wallpaper which was Chaerim, beaming up at the camera, her eyes narrowed into slits. "Her name is Chaerim, as you may already know." His heart softened, seeing the bright little girl practically radiating like the sun. He understood why Seokmin seemed to love her so much. Because he was gradually already falling for her and he hasn't had one conversation with the girl. 

"She's beautiful," Soonyoung commented, handing the phone back to (y/n), smiling widely at his words. "What's she like?"

"Well…" (y/n) started, breaking off into a brief chuckle as she thought of the girl in question. "She's… something. Very hyperactive." (y/n) looked down at her phone, fondly gazing at the picture once more. "She's silly. There's never a dull day with her." She paused, looking for a second more before putting her phone away and sighing. "So mature. It feels like I'm talking to a little adult at times." Soonyoung smiled, seeing how much (y/n) loved her. 

"Can I meet her?" He asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. He was afraid, scared to meet this little girl. He didn't know what exactly he feared, but his thoughts were incessant.

It was either he was meeting the child of (y/n) and some guy who came and replaced him, or he was meeting the child of him and (y/n). 

And as (y/n) called out for the girl and she emerged from the kitchen with those familiar sharp eyes of hers, Soonyoung had an inkling he knew it was the latter scenario. 

"Chaerim, I'd like you to meet Soonyoung," (y/n) spoke, gesturing to the person as she said their name. "Soonyoung, this is Chaerim." 

He slid off the couch, crouching onto his knees before her with a smile on his face. 

"Hi Chaerim. It's nice to meet you." 

The little girl stood there, staring right at him, expression blank and unreadable. It almost intimidated him, the way she seemed to stare right into his soul as if it was child's play. She stepped closer to him, face to face, her gaze unwavering, as if she hadn't an ounce of fear for him. (y/n) and Soonyoung watched her with confusion, though allowed her to continue to inch closer and closer to Soonyoung until she pressed her tiny lips against his nose, pulling away after planting a soft kiss to him. 

"Chaerim, what are you doing?" (y/n) spoke in a panic, pulling her daughter against her. "You just met Soonyoung, we don't kiss strangers."

"We don't?" She asked. The first words she has spoken in his presence.

"No, we don't– How many strangers have you kissed?" (y/n) asked incredulously, eyes wide at the girl's question. Without answering, Chaerim approached Soonyoung again, his face reddened at her kiss. 

"Hello, my name is Chaerim," she greeted, voice louder than necessary, though still getting her point across. She held out her hand to him, and he hesitantly took it in his own. His lips twitched into a smile, thumb brushing over her smooth skin as he reciprocated her greeting. In some way, he knew. The moment he touched her, he knew she was his. 

Though before he could say anything else, Jihyo appeared. 

"(y/n), it's 8," she stated. Like that, (y/n)'s fond smile at the exchange dissipated, and she snapped out of her daydream at the time. 

"Chaerim, we need to give you a bath," she stated, about to stand up before Jihyo stepped in. 

"It's okay, Seokmin and I can prepare her for bed," she insisted, lifting the girl into her arms with a small huff. "You guys can keep talking." Jihyo briefly looked to Soonyoung, nodding at him in acknowledgement before turning around and disappearing down the hall, Seokmin trailing behind after waving to Soonyoung. 

Once they were alone, Soonyoung climbed back onto the couch, staring at (y/n) whose eyes darted everywhere but to him. She was nervous, which saddened Soonyoung. He remembered how she once relied on him for comfort during times like this, yet now he was the source of those worries. He just wanted to bring her to him, remind her of his undying love for her, the same love which hasn't waned since the moment he left her. Yet he understood. He understood she needed time. She needed space from him. She needed time to think after he just suddenly came back into her life. 

Though yet again, his impulsivity came through, far too curious to merely ignore the elephant in the room.

"(y/n)..." He started, tilting his head down to meet her gaze now staring at the floor between them. She continued to avoid him, eyes shifting away once he entered her peripheral vision. "(y/n), please." 

There was a desperation in his voice, this weakness in his tone that startled (y/n), loosened her resolve some as she finally peeked up at him. Her eyes were glassy, her lip quivering as she met his gaze, this pleading stare greeting her as they finally looked at one another. Truly looked at one another.

The sun was setting, casting this deep orange glow into the apartment. A myriad of colors danced across her face, the warmth of the sunset seeping into her skin. Ethereal, Soonyoung thought to himself. How beautiful his beloved (y/n) was. Perhaps it was the time spent apart, but Soonyoung swore she seemed to radiate even more now than she ever had before. As if with every passing of the sun, she seemed to blossom more and more, this breathtaking flower before him that he had left behind. 

"Talk to me. Please."

She blinked at his words, tears beginning to well up along her waterline. Though he could very clearly see that anguish in her eyes, she still attempted to play it off, breathing out a chuckle as she shrugged nonchalantly at his request. 

"What's there to say?" 

Dismissive. She looked away the moment she finished her sentence, eyes once more skirting around him, avoiding him. He winced, this surprisingly sharp pain stabbing at his heart. And yet it only encouraged him to pursue her more. 

"So much. (y/n), it's been years. Please, tell me anything. Tell me about your parents, your job, Jihyo." At this point, he had leant so close to her that their breaths were intermingling, warmth brushing against their faces from the proximity, yet to them, two long lost lovers who hadn't spoken in what felt like a lifetime, the space was anything but discomforting. A welcoming sensation that had the tips of his fingers itching to touch her, any part of her, anywhere she was willing to offer him. His eyes opened, glassy gaze once more seeking out her own as she took in a shaky breath, overwrought with the surge of emotions that came with Soonyoung's presence.

Tell me about Chaerim.

He wanted to ask so badly. The question was at the tip of his tongue, begging to be spoken. Yet upon the first break of tears cascading down her face, he knew he had already pushed her too far for now. 

Once her tears spilled, so did his, a never ending stream of moisture seeping out of his eyes, his sobs choked back upon hearing her muted sniffles. And to make matters worse, he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't gather her defeated body into his arms. He couldn't wipe her tears away or kiss at the trail they'd leave behind. He couldn't hum her favorite songs to banish her sadness away. Because unlike the other times, he wasn't hers and she wasn't his. At this point, they were no more estranged than two strangers.

His hands shook by his side, forcing himself back from holding her to him. He had no place to do so. He was nothing to her anymore. It took every fiber of his being to separate him from where he was, leaning back onto the couch with a rough sigh, jaw clenched as he attempted to will away his tears. (y/n) similarly followed suit, her hand pressed against her mouth as if to quell the cries that wanted to break free. And they remained that way for what felt like an eternity, silencing their anguish on their own. The solitude felt like a stone pressing down on him, an aching reminder of what their relationship had eventually boiled down to. 

They were childhood sweethearts. Ever since he could remember, he'd held a sweet spot for the girl next door. His friends had teased him relentlessly, the adults in his life equally tormenting him with the premise of one day marrying (y/n). So it was no shocker when he had confessed to her one fateful evening in the park by their neighborhood. What did come as a shock was when she had almost immediately reciprocated his feelings, dragging him into a bone crushing hug as she giggled away into his chest.

Seungkwan hadn't believed him the next day, giving him a once over with a raised eyebrow. His hair was frizzy with damage from repetitive bleaching, his clothes hung loosely on his lanky body, and his smile was obscured by an array of multicolored bands on his braces. Yet it only further proved her genuine affections for the boy.

They say love is blind, but it seemed like she had revealed to him a whole new plethora of shades never before seen by the human eye. The sky was bluer when he was with her, grass greener as they laid together in the field, the orange of his tiger plushies felt more vibrant whenever she cuddled one of them. 

And even now, it still held true, his atmosphere intensifying in her presence just from her sitting there in front of him. She brought him such anguish, unearthing memories he had once tried so adamantly to bury away, yet she also brought this unfathomable peace in his heart, soothing the storm that had plagued his soul for the past six years in college. The thought was what finally calmed his tears, leaving dried streaks across his face. She had yet to stop her own. 

"(y/n)." She finally spared him a wary glance, that same storm which racked his being now whirling in her irises.

In a much softer tone, he called out her name again, desperation laced in his voice, and perhaps even in his gaze, because just from looking at him, (y/n)'s resolve seemed to dissipate into thin air. With a quivering lip and another bout of tears welling up in her eyes, she found herself shifting over to the couch, collapsing into Soonyoung's arms with a loud, agonizing sob.

Her body quaked in his arms as he finally held her again, his face burying into her hair and breathing in her scent. Her arms had wrapped around his torso, fingers clenched desperately into his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer to her. He could feel the warmth of her tears seeping into the material of his top, attempting to coax more tears out of him, yet he remained as is, striving to keep his strength for the both of them in this moment. 

"You left me," she cried into his shoulder, voice wrought with unwavering sorrow. "You broke my heart." That familiar lump began forming at the base of Soonyoung's throat, yet he swallowed away the threat of tears once more, simply opting to drag her closer into his frame.

He shut his eyes, his breaths heavy and ragged as he took in her despondency, feeling firsthand how his capricious actions had not only destroyed himself, but also the love of his life. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, voice broken as he spoke through his own misery. "I'm so sorry, (y/n). I could apologize for an eternity and then some, and it would never amount to the regret I feel." His hand rubbed up and down her back, attempting to repress at least some of her sadness at the moment. "I thought… I thought this would be better for you. You didn't deserve to suffer in a long distance relationship. I thought it would be better to let you go so you can actually experience the fulfilling relationship you deserve."

"That's so fucking stupid," she sobbed out, each syllable sounding forced out through the exhaustion already setting in from her crying session. 

"I know."

"You broke my heart, you asshole."

"I know." She had mumbled out a few more indiscernible words that had intertwined with her next bout of cries, until eventually it had dissolved into nothing. The tight grip she had on Soonyoung had loosened, her face once buried in his chest now lolled loosely against his shoulder, and the quivering of her body now replaced by the gentle rise and fall of her steady breathing. And with her now silently sleeping away, he took the opportunity by himself to let out his own tears once more, littering the top of her head with soft kisses as he wallowed in his own pitiful state. Embracing the girl he had abandoned and broken, begging for forgiveness as if he deserved anything from her. His apologies fell upon deaf ears as she slept, yet it hadn't deterred him from continuously whispering his pleas to her. 

The only thing that seemed to stop his mantra was Seokmin squeezing his shoulder. 

"Hey Soon," he called out quietly, snapping him out of his daze as he looked up at his friend. "Let's head home. You guys had enough for the day. There's always tomorrow."

Soonyoung nodded, rising to his feet with (y/n) in his arms as Seokmin guided him to her bedroom. Soonyoung spared her one last glance as he laid her there, brushing back her hair and stroking her cheek, taking in her peaceful expression once more before departing. Seokmin was at the entrance with Jihyo already, the two talking to one another in a low voice, as if the tension of before still resided even with (y/n) fast asleep. 

Upon Soonyoung's arrival, their conversation faded into nothing, Seokmin offering the man a gentle smile upon taking in his beaten form. 

"Hey buddy, how are we feeling?" Soonyoung's silence was answer enough, staring at his friend blankly with red eyes and a puffy face. "Ah, that's good, that's good. Like I said, there's always tomorrow. Let's get you home now, yeah?" Seokmin bid Jihyo goodbye with one last nod before heading out the door.

Before Soonyoung could fully walk out the door, his body halted in its spot, standing at the threshold of the apartment with Jihyo staring up at him confusedly. 

"Chaerim," he spoke, voice gravelly from his earlier happenings. "Is she mine?" 

He didn't know what brought this upon him. In any other instance, he'd be horrified at the sudden audacity he obtained to have asked such an illicit question. Yet right now, he was numb. His body ached. His heart felt drained beyond reparation. He felt like nothing. So what was there to lose with such a risky move?

Jihyo was silent for another moment, until she shook her head out of the corner of his eye. 

"No," she stated, voice weak as she looked at the defeated man before her. "No, she's not. I'm sorry."

Soonyoung shut his eyes, nodding at her words before fully walking out, meeting up with Seokmin at the elevator. 

It was an answer he had anticipated, one that was honestly expected, yet somewhere deep in his heart, he had truly thought she was his daughter. That she was the product of his and (y/n)'s love. That he possibly still had a chance with (y/n), as long as that fragment of their relationship still existed in this world. Yet it was all hopeful wishing. 

Even long after Seokmin dropped Soonyoung off at his parent's house, bidding the man goodbye and promising to return tomorrow, the events of the day still weighed heavily upon him. And even after shutting his eyes and going to sleep, the memories of (y/n) tormented him throughout the night. Illusions of what could have been had he chosen her at the end. The happy life he could have had with (y/n) in his arms. Chaerim could have been his. He could have had a daughter as beautiful as her. Yet he had given it all up for a piece of paper.

The last person he had seen that night was Seokmin, and he had also wound up being the first person he saw when he woke up the next morning.

"Soonyoung," he called out, shaking the man's shoulders until he stirred from his slumber. "Time to wake up." 

The aforementioned man did not look his best, to say the least. Eyes completely bloodshot, face puffy beyond recognition, and his usual sanguine demeanor was depleted until he sat there as nothing more than a breathing human. The living embodiment of the contrast between living and surviving. 

Though Seokmin didn't seem too perturbed by his friend's ragged appearance, merely cooing as he patted down the disheveled mane on Soonyoung's head. 

"You ready to get back into the ring today?" His voice was chipper, comparable to that of a kindergarten teacher to their students, yet it had little to no effect on Soonyoung who grumbled in response to his patronizingly toned question. 

Seokmin stood there as Soonyoung dragged his feet about the room, tugging on whatever clothes he could find, brushing his teeth as he combed his hair, attempting to stay awake through Seokmin's droning dialogue in the background. 

"I got everyone's schedule for today. Mingyu and Vernon have the day off. Chan gets off later on today, so he could join us whenever. Seungkwan and Junhui said they couldn't come today because they're working, but Joshua literally has the closing shift and said he'd come around at midnight, so I think they're just not committed enough, you know?

"Jeonghan and Minghao have not responded to me yet, but Jeonghan literally posted on Instagram yesterday, so I know he's ignoring me. Seungcheol and Wonwoo said no for today, but they are available later on this week. Did I forget anybody? I feel like I'm forgetting someone?" 

(y/n). 

He wanted to ask how she was. If she had fared well after last night. How she felt this morning, waking up after such an eventful night. How Chaerim was doing. What the girls were up to this morning. What they'd be doing later on. If (y/n) still wore blue every Wednesday and acted like it wasn't an actual routine of hers because she didn't think anyone would notice. If he could see her again today. 

"Jihoon!" Seokmin snapped his fingers upon realizing, laughing to himself soon after. "Jihoon is busy right now, but he'll join us later."

Their conversation continued once they were in Seokmin's car and driving off.

"So we're going to pick up Mingyu and Vernon and head out for breakfast. At around 12, Jihoon said he'd come join us, so maybe we can take a walk around downtown for old time's sake. At 2, I have to pick up Chaerim and drop her off at Jihyo's, but Chan should–"

"Chaerim?" Soonyoung's eyebrows had risen at the mention of the girl's name, turning to face Seokmin with sudden fascination at the schedule. "You pick up Chaerim from school?"

"Well, from daycare, yeah," Seokmin responded, eyes still trained on the street, but still with that soft grin plastered to his face, the casual air he has when talking about the girl stirring this envious feeling within Soonyoung. "Jihyo gets out of work at 2, but the daycare is pretty out of place on her route home, so I pick up Chaerim and hand her to Jihyo. And then at 5, (y/n) gets out of work and she retrieves the child from Jihyo and they head home." 

Soonyoung sat there enraptured at Seokmin's words, nodding and absorbing everything said as if he himself would need the knowledge in the coming future. Seokmin kept talking afterwards, continuing where he left off regarding Chan's and Josh's arrival before they had finally reached their destination. 

This 24/7 breakfast joint they'd frequent as they grew up, Attacca. They'd eat waffles there as a child with their families, eat waffles after school while procrastinating on doing their homework, eat waffles on snow days when they had nothing better to do, eat waffles at 2 am after late night parties at each other's houses. And even now as the four of them sat together to catch up, they ate those exact same waffles. 

"You still have the high score on Galaga?" Soonyoung gaped as Vernon nodded cockily, leaning back against the chipped leather of the booth they sat at, arms raised triumphantly while he basked in the glory of his achievements. 

"The undefeated champion still reigns to this day." Vernon began waving to his imaginary fans, blowing kisses and posing for photos as Mingyu grimaced at the overplayed fantasy happening before him. 

"He goes to that same rundown laundromat every month to make sure he hasn't been bested, as if kids are even still going there." Soonyoung chuckled at Mingyu's words, which had supposedly gone over Vernon's head as he continued to fantasize about the glories of victory, muttering to himself about how he would love to accept Oprah's invitation to her show. "Though on the less pathetic side of things, my restaurant is doing very well."

"I can't believe you actually own a restaurant." Soonyoung took a sip from his chocolate milk, humming in amusement at the thought of Chef Mingyu. "That's insane. Congrats, man." 

"Thank you very much."

"Yeah, Mingyu said he'd serve us for free next time we go," Seokmin quickly added, earning a kick under the table from Mingyu himself. 

"Wait, is Mingyu finally feeding us for free?" Vernon asked, mouth agape as he finally snapped out of whatever trance he had propelled himself into minutes earlier. 

"No, Mingyu is not feeding you freeloaders." Mingyu elbowed Vernon as he spoke, glaring at the group before him with disgust. "You get discounts at most, but I'd go bankrupt if you all came to my restaurant for free." 

"You hear that, boys, dinner at Mingyu's tonight." Seokmin tossed his hand forward, immediately receiving a high five from Vernon on command as the two continued to goad Mingyu. With a roll of his eyes, he redirected his attention to Soonyoung, offering the man an excited smile. 

"So, Soonyoung, what's up with you? Six years on your own, new degree, job offer. You've got so much going on for you!"

"Thanks." Soonyoung smiled, stirring his straw in his drink absentmindedly as his eyes lowered to the table's surface. "I'll be off again in a few weeks presumably. For that job offer."

"I don't know if this is dumb of me to ask, but what does an engineer do?" Vernon questioned, shoveling another load of waffle into his mouth.

Soonyoung pouted as he thought about the question, because to be fair, he doesn't even know what his job will entail. Six years in college. He's learned his way around a computer. He knows how to fix things now. That's pretty much all he can say, because to be honest, he doesn't know what awaits him in the future. He doesn't know what finally entering the field of his career entails for him. He doesn't know if it'll be what he had anticipated out of such an intensive career. If it'll prove the regrets that stir within him wrong, prove that it was worth leaving everything behind to pursue. 

Suddenly, Chaerim and (y/n) came to mind. A little glimpse of them together popped into his head, (y/n) chiding her daughter who had just planted a kiss onto his nose. With those two girls remaining in his mind, he was beginning to seriously doubt that last presumption of his.

Because no amount of money in the world could possibly top the exhilarating feeling that settled at the base of his heart when he was with them both yesterday. 

"I don't know," Soonyoung announced, rather proudly regarding the circumstances, causing the lot to burst into laughter at his own confusion. 

"Well, hopefully it comes easy to you," Mingyu spoke, bringing his coffee mug up to his lips for a sip. "Who would have thought the tech challenged Soonyoung would become a software engineer of all things."

"I wasn't that bad."

"You typed like a grandma after her fifth shot of tequila," Vernon interjected with a shake of his head. "We all know (y/n) was the one who had prepared all of your presentations for you." 

Soonyoung nervously chuckled at the mention of her name. His technical ex girlfriend, as painful as it sounded. And as true as that was, so was Vernon's statement. 

They'd be lying on his bed, her laptop in between them as she helped organize his notes and points on one PowerPoint. She'd type away, showing him different things the program offered, putting in her own input on designing, and he'd merely sit there and listen, head tucked away in the nook of her neck as he dozed off to her gentle voice. He'd fall asleep while she worked, and she'd wake him up by littering kisses all over his face. He'd rehearse his presentation for her alongside the PowerPoint, just to show how her work would not be going to waste. She'd applaud him, congratulating him even though he had done the bare minimum, but it felt good nevertheless. To be doted upon by the girl he loves the most, falling asleep in her arms the night before his project, that good luck kiss before he'd enter class that he swore was the key to his passing grades. 

Soonyoung would wait for (y/n) after class to tell her how it went, and the smile she'd bless him with was like the cherry on top of it all. This big, gorgeous smile that was so bright and happy for him and him alone. 

As if punishment upon him, for even daring to derive even a shred of happiness from a past memory, the blissful image of (y/n)'s smile had been torn away from him, instead replaced by one of their last moments together. 

It was in his room as he was packing away his clothes for college. (y/n) sat on his bed, folding whatever she could and neatly organizing it into his luggage whilst filling the quietude with her thoughts. 

Though Soonyoung couldn't really recall much of what she was saying that day. He was too into his own head. He was too distracted by his own thoughts plaguing his psyche. Thoughts that he had initially written off as intrusive ones that would soon fade away, though they remained recurrent, sprouting forth practically every moment he spent with (y/n) until every waking second of his life revolved around those thoughts and those thoughts alone. 

(y/n) managed to snap him back into reality as she began directing her voice towards him. 

"You'll have to text me when you get situated over there!" She gushed, far more excited for him than he was for himself. "I mean, you'll text me when you get there of course, but you have to text me when everything's settled and you have some spare time. I can fly over and meet you." She slipped off his bed, shuffling over to him and wrapping him in a hug. Soonyoung naturally reciprocated it, arms embracing her against him, relishing in the warmth and comfort that came with holding her. That keen familiarity that he'd never grow weary of no matter the distance or the time which passed. But even so, even with her presence serving as an anchor for him, his mind was elsewhere, drifting far from reason and compiling what he could only describe as utter nonsense now. 

"(y/n)," he muttered aloud, somehow hoping she wouldn't hear him even though he spoke right by her ear. She hummed, cursing him into finishing what he had started. "How do you feel about all of this?" 

"About what? College?" He hesitantly pulled away from her, arms loosely holding her as he took in her appearance once more, as if needing the momentary motivation to continue with whatever he was doing. 

"About me going to college. About me leaving everything behind." His eyes flickered about her face, tension settling in his eyebrows as his emotions were already beginning to seep through his facade. "About me leaving you behind."

"That's a weird way of putting it," she laughed dismissively at his words, though still hummed in thought. "I feel… conflicted." His arms strained for a second, briefly gripping onto (y/n) as she paused for consideration. "Of course I'd love to have you with me or me with you, but we can't. At least not right now." She tilted her head with a pout forming on her lips before she smiled resolutely. "Life has other things planned for us right now. You're off to do great things, to study and get a career like you always wanted, and I'll be here, finding some sort of stability like I've always wanted.

"But that's okay," she tugged him along with her to the bed, seating him on the edge and cozying herself against him, head resting on his shoulder with her arms draped over him. "Because we'll always be here supporting one another. I'll be right here when you're ready to come back." 

He hadn't even realized he was crying until he felt a tear brush past his lip, her words being the nail in the coffin for those incessant anxieties that had tormented him for weeks now. 

"(y/n), I think we should break up." 

The words felt like poison in his mouth, churning his stomach until it was wrought with absolute disgust. There was a conflict in his body, one that had him beating himself for having even uttered said cursed words, but it was too late. He had spoken his thoughts. 

(y/n) had stiffened in his arms, silent as Soonyoung battled with himself, but then she slowly pulled away from him. Her eyes were blank at first, face stoic whilst analyzing his expression for any sign of humor or any indication that what he said was merely a cruel joke. But it wasn't. 

"Soonyoung, what are you trying to do? Talk to me before making such a large decision like that on your own." Even at such a young age, she was so mature. It was something he had always admired about her. How level headed she was, how calm and patient she became whenever he was off his hinges. She continued to show that maturity of hers, concealing whatever emotions she may be feeling and instead waiting for Soonyoung to calm down enough to talk. 

"I…" He had begun, eyes straying to his lap when he felt his words get caught in his throat, his body quaking with an incoming sob, though quickly collecting himself, clearing his throat of any obstruction and continuing. "You have been the light of my life for as long as I can remember. I've loved you for longer than I could even talk. You are the love of my life, and that's very clear to see." He paused, gathering his thoughts once more. (y/n) remained where she sat, hands having slid down to his biceps where they tentatively rested. "And all I've ever wanted was your happiness… But I think I will become that obstacle for you. I will be the thing preventing you from being happy."

"Why would you ever say that about yourself, Soonyoung?" She cupped his face, bringing his gaze back to her intimidatingly serious one. "You can't be in the way of my happiness if you are my happiness."

"(y/n), we've never been away from each other for even a day." Soonyoung all but wept, eyes blurring with tears as he laughed incredulously at his own statement. School field trips, family road trips, even girl scout camping included them both, Soonyoung somehow getting away with disguising as his sister when they were all children. "I don't think we'll be able to make it long distance."

"Who says we can't?"

"I do." His voice was broken, as was the rest of him, barely able to hold himself where he sat. (y/n) was quiet for a moment, in complete shock of what was happening in front of her. 

"Why are you so confident we can't do long distance? Sure, we've never been apart, but who's to say we can't survive away from each other? Soonyoung…" Yet again, (y/n) found herself redirecting his attention back to her, making sure he could see the absolute resolve in her eyes. "I love you. And I know you love me just as much. Isn't that enough reassurance?" 

Soonyoung could see how serious she was. He could see how much she was holding back, wanting to also burst into tears alongside him at such a scary moment in their lives, but even so, he had his mind settled. 

"No, it's not." She flinched at his words, her hands suddenly pulled away from him as if his skin were fire. She was taken aback, eyes wavering as Soonyoung began rubbing away his tears. 

"Why are you acting this way? You're not even giving us a chance. You're acting as if everything we've built together was for nothing. As if all those years together were just child's play when you literally mean the world to me." 

"(y/n), I love you," he interjected, shutting his eyes and taking a deep, final breath. "I love so much. You are everything to me. And I know I can't live without you. But I can't bear to see you lose yourself to a long distance relationship like this."

"Soonyoung–"

"You deserve a fulfilling and present love. A love that you won't have to struggle with time differences just to video call, a love where you don't have to be decided over homework, a love that's just as invigorating and perfect as you, and I'm no longer a viable option." 

He didn't know what had done it—which of his words had finally broken her fortitude, but before he knew it, he heard sniffling beside him, and when he finally met her gaze again, there were tears running down her face, lips downturned whilst staring back at him in disappointment. 

"Who even are you anymore?" He stayed quiet at her question, not really knowing how to even answer this if he had wanted to. Physically, he was still Soonyoung, but so much had happened in such a short duration of time that he felt like his soul lay dormant deep within him. He didn't know what entity of sorts took over that compelled him to act in such a way and feel these doubts he's never felt before, but there was no changing him at this point. 

And within seconds, this strong, independent girl Soonyoung had grown to love with all of his heart had deteriorated with defeat. She pulled her hands away from his in lieu of shielding her face, leaving cold pockets on his body from where her touch had once resided. He felt a stab at his heart as she silently wept to herself, a sight he rarely if ever saw from her. And to know that he was the reason she was like this killed him inside.

Yet even so, he still didn't take back his words. He didn't apologize for destroying their relationship so heartlessly. He just sat there, watching her, knowing this would be the last image of her he'd see before flying the next morning.

And as greedy as it was—as absolutely cold and insensitive as it was for him to do—he slid closer to her, hands hovering over her wrists for a second more, as if giving himself one more chance to stop, but it seemed as if his body had now begun running on autopilot. Latching onto her hands, he gently tugged them away from her face, cupping her cheeks so as to have her looking at him. 

She was crushed, tears an endless stream of moisture seeping from her now reddened eyes, facial muscles contorted with sadness. It was a sight that absolutely destroyed Soonyoung, yet still it was undeniable in his mind: she was as beautiful as she had always been and always would be.

Perhaps it was with that thought, that subtle reminder that he truly did and always would love her for who she was, that compelled him to lean forward, pressing his lips onto hers one last time, as if one last proclamation of his eternal love for her. His eyes had shut, tears slipping away from him as he brought her closer to him, pouring out every ounce of affection he could, hoping that what his words failed to convey, his kiss would translate—show her that somewhere in him, Soonyoung still resided; that she hadn't lost him entirely yet. 

She had kissed him back, hands threading through his hair and pulling him closer, afraid that if she had let go, he'd disappear from her forever. 

And her fears had proven true. After that last night together, tangled in each other's limbs, their final moments expressing their love for one another, he had left, leaving behind a kiss on her forehead and his heart now in her hands as he flew across the country, an emotionless void as he pursued what he thought he'd always wanted. 

His demeanor had changed greatly during breakfast, something Seokmin had noticed almost immediately. The boys agreed to meet up later when the others were available, agreeing to hit up some places around the city together. Seokmin was driving Soonyoung home for the time being, refraining from mentioning his solemn expression as he sat in the passenger's seat quietly. The man had too many thoughts running through his mind at all times. It was something that Soonyoung had always dealt with. They'd be talking about one thing, and within a second, Soonyoung would have changed the route of their conversation because he suddenly remembered something. Though now rather than his silly little conversational segues growing up, his thoughts seemed a dark place that no one would want to venture into. Seokmin just hoped that their friends would be able to distract him some later tonight. 

Once they pulled into the driveway of Soonyoung's parent's house, they both stepped out of the vehicle, making their way to the entrance until Seokmin's phone began ringing. 

"Hello?" He swiftly answered as Soonyoung fished for his keys. "What? Wait– hold on– Grandma, I– Slow down for a second, slow down. Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?" Soonyoung turned around, eyes widening in shock as he looked at a very concerned and confused Seokmin. "Okay, I'll be right there. Just stay put." 

"What happened?" 

"She got into a car accident. She said it's a minor one, but still." 

"Of course, I understand, go over there," Soonyoung insisted, already ushering Seokmin over to his car. 

"Wait, Soonyoung, wait." They both stopped for a moment, facing each other with equally troubled expressions. "It's almost 2 o'clock." Soonyoung's mouth dropped immediately, hand resting on his forehead as he began to truly process Seokmin's plight. 

"Chaerim…" 

"I know it's a lot to ask of you, but could you pick her up for me?" Seokmin asked, already unlocking his car as he waited for Soonyoung's answer, which came seconds later in vigorous nods. It brought a small smile to his face, seeing some form of life once more in his friend's eyes. "Great, thank you so much, dude. I'll text you the address. I owe you big time."

Once Seokmin had left, Soonyoung immediately rushed into the house to grab his keys before driving off. He must've broken quite a few traffic laws considering he made it to the store, bought a car seat, and installed it, all with just minutes to spare before 2.

He double checked the booster seat once more, shaking it around to ensure it was latched on safely, before he backed away with a huff, turning his attention to her daycare he was parked in front of. 

A quaint little location with trees and flowers littered around the front, a sign of alternating primary colors reading 'Little Sun Daycare' under a rainbow arch with clouds on either side. From where he stood, he could see a large, open backyard with all the things to occupy a child's attention span. Though it was barren, so he knew they were all likely nestled away safely inside. 

He rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on the front of his jeans before pulling the door open, wincing at the loud chime over his head once he saw what he had walked into. About a dozen or so children, all scattered across the floor with blankets and pillows as a faint lullaby played on loop behind them. He stood there awkwardly, frozen in place with his eyes darting from each and every child, checking to see if any stirred, though luckily it seemed he'd gotten away with it. 

Another moment passed before a lady came around the corner, steps light and casual like the seasoned caregiver she most likely was. She was older with brown hair pulled into a bun, a few wiry gray strands sticking to and fro from what must've been an already strenuous day with the children. She offered Soonyoung a gentle smile, revealing wrinkles that curved with her face, as if showing how often they formed due to her frequent grins and happiness. 

"Hello," Soonyoung whispered, practically tiptoeing closer to her out of fear of making any more noise. "I'm sorry for… that." He gestured grandly to the bell behind him. She snickered, waving her hand dismissively to him. 

"It's alright, dear, these kids can usually sleep through a stampede." Her voice was low, though definitely not as quiet as Soonyoung had been, and he found himself quickly adapting to her volume levels as she went behind the front desk. "Pick-up?"

"Oh… Yes, I'm here for pick-up." He nodded at her words, somewhat surprised at how quickly she had deduced his reason for coming. She handed him a clipboard of names, presumably that of the kids, before she left to go into the room of napping children.

His eyes scanned the list before settling on Chaerim's. There were two boxes in her row, one for drop off and one for pick-up. (y/n)'s name was already signed in one, and Soonyoung needed a moment to collect himself, gaze now focused on her signature. It was silly of him to feel so affected by mere writing, especially when he had written his name next to hers on the pick-up column. It had the same satisfaction as when he'd write his name with her last name growing up, long before he had the bravery to ask her out and he was merely dealing with a crush that rotted his brain away.

Chaerim. (y/n). Soonyoung. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a little voice calling out to him.

"Soonie?" He turned around, heart swelling as he saw a tired Chaerim rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her face was puffy, hair in complete disarray, but she looked absolutely adorable to him. He crouched to his knees with a smile on his face, and that was supposedly enough of a boost for the girl to all but launch herself into his hold, tiny arms thrown around his neck as she buried her face into his shoulder. A warmth spread through his body as he cradled her against him, standing to his full height before facing the woman again. 

"She had almost an hour-long nap. Snack time was just before naptime, so she may be hungry. And she was praised today for sharing toys with the other kids." Soonyoung chuckled at this, patting her back approvingly as she refused to stray from where she nestled herself into him. 

"Thank you so much," he responded to her, backing away towards the door as he waved goodbye to her. 

"Of course. It's lovely to finally meet you!" The words hadn't really hit him until the door had closed behind them. Then he, had stood there frozen for another moment, eyes widened when he processed both her implication and how she had wordlessly gone to retrieve Chaerim. He bit back a smile, continuing his trek to his car as he greeted the little girl in his arms. 

"Are you surprised?" He felt her nod against him. 

"Yeah," she mumbled into his shirt. "Because usually it's Uncle Seokmin who picks me up. But today, it was Soonie." His cheeks were already hurting from smiling and he hadn't even gotten into the car yet.

"I like the name you've given me," he replied to her as he strapped the little girl into her seat, shaking her around a bit to check again for stability purposes, earning a few bubbly giggles from her before he slipped into the driver's seat. 

"Are we going to Aunt Jihyo's? Uncle Seokmin usually takes me to Aunt Jihyo's afterwards. And then Aunt Jihyo and I play games and watch movies until mommy comes." Soonyoung hummed happily at her babbling in the background, refreshing his chat with Seokmin where he had only sent him the address to the daycare. Soonyoung sent a second text out, even though his other one hadn't been read yet. He knew it'd be a stretch asking Chaerim for directions, so with a shake of his head, he began backing out of the parking lot. 

"I was actually thinking we could hang, you and me. How does that sound?"

"Yeah!" She hollered loudly, all that drowsiness she had before dissipating as she kicked her legs excitedly. 

To be fair, if he weren't driving, he'd also probably be kicking his legs around, the thought of spending time with Chaerim just as exciting of an idea to him as it was to her, and he hadn't even had a full conversation with the girl on his own. It just comes to show how invigorating of a person she was at such a young age already. Just as entrancing as her mother.

It was almost by nature that he had navigated them to the park. It was a quaint area filled with lush trees and winding cobbled paths. At the center of it all was a lake where many visitors would fish or feed the wildlife, and that main walkway encircled the body of water, a route many morning joggers would wind up taking.

Their town wasn't necessarily small, but it also wasn't a grand city with a variety of things to do and places to visit; as such, the park was a sight he and his friends had frequented often whilst growing up together. He remembers learning to skip stones with Minghao at the lake, climbing around the playground with Mingyu and Seokmin as if it were an obstacle course where they couldn't touch the floor, playing manhunt with everyone in the middle of the night. Asking out (y/n) as the sun was setting behind them. It was a place he held near and dear to his heart, and something in him wanted to create even more memories now with Chaerim by his side. 

The girl seemed perhaps even more excited than he was, if that were even possible, already preemptively pressing the red button of her car seat and freeing herself from her restraints. Though she sat there anyways, waiting for Soonyoung to turn off the car and take her out of her seat himself. 

With her little hand wrapped around two of his fingers, they strolled through the park together, Soonyoung letting her ramble away to her heart's content. 

"You should be happy I named you Soonie," she called out to him from where she walked below. He hummed in acknowledgement at this, a confused yet amused smile crossing his face as she continued speaking. "Uncle Seokmin keeps asking me to change his name, but I don't want to."

"Why not? A nickname would be much shorter than Uncle Seokmin."

"What's a nickname?"

"It's when you shorten the person's name. You call me Soonie instead of Soonyoung. Soonie is a nickname."

"Why can't it be your real name?"

"It could if I legally change it."

"Change it."

"Maybe some other day," Soonyoung laughed at her insistence, gazing down at her fondly. How lucky you would have had to been to be blessed with Chaerim's presence on a daily basis. It was a relieving thought to know that three of the most trustworthy people he could name were her guardians.

Jihyo, who had been with (y/n) for years to come. A friend that was one in a million. Someone who stood the test of time, never once straying from (y/n) throughout the duration of their friendship.

He remembers when he had gotten into a fight on (y/n)'s behalf, having heard a guy talking crassly about her. It was Jihyo who had yanked Soonyoung off the guy, urging him to rethink his decision. The last thing (y/n) would want out of this was her boyfriend to be suspended for fighting this jerk. But when the guy continued with his vulgar language regarding (y/n), Jihyo had performed quite possibly the most impressive elbow drop ever seen, landing them both into weeks of detention together. 

It was a silly thing to bond over, but nonetheless had sealed a sort of unspoken friendship that neither of them had expected. 

Then there was Seokmin, one of his best friends since elementary school—and still claiming that title today. 

He was inherently kindhearted, accepting of anyone no matter their circumstances. Soonyoung berated him at times for putting others before himself too often, though it seemed like it didn't affect Seokmin in the slightest. As if he derived all of his enjoyment from helping others, both a selfless but also selfish matter as he did think of others, but he mostly did it because it brought himself joy. Still a saint if there ever was one, and from what he's heard thus far regarding his participation in Chaerim and (y/n)'s life, this still proved true. 

Then there was (y/n). Were there even words to describe how perfect (y/n) was? How sweet and caring and loving she is. Warm and doting with kisses that can heal any ailment, physical or emotional. Thoughtful and patient and compassionate. Soonyoung had brought the passion in their relationship, the whimsy that made love so worthwhile and memorable. Yet she was the stability in their relationship, able to ground Soonyoung when he grew too rambunctious, quell any argument that would surface between them, balance the energy Soonyoung evoked with her own tranquility. 

There was no better person to mother such an adoring child as Chaerim. No better person to be raised by with such love and tenderness. There was no person like (y/n), nor would there ever be. 

"Why is it called nickname?" Chaerim suddenly chimed in, catching Soonyoung off guard who just spoke the first thing in his mind, in a feeble attempt to impress the young girl with his nonexistent knowledge. 

"Nick is the shortened version of Nicholas." His eyes had widened comically at his words, impressed by how the reasoning seemed to fit the context, yet also dumbfounded by how idiotic he was. Chaerim didn't seem to be affected by his nonsense. 

"So Soonyoung is your Nicholasname?" 

"Yes." He could already sense another question on the tip of the inquisitive girl's tongue, and Soonyoung couldn't find it in himself to lie to her again. "Oh, look at that!" He threw his hand up with a gasp leaving his mouth, pointing to the ice cream truck just off the edge of the path they walked on. While he seemed excited, Chaerim was otherwise unimpressed, drawing nearer to him as they stopped in their path. 

"I'm not allowed to have ice cream," she explained, to which Soonyoung gaped at her response, almost immediately crouching to her level in shock. 

"Why not? Is it something about spoiling your dinner?" She hummed at his question, needing a moment to herself to think of her words. 

"Mommy says I can't. She says I lack toes in taller ants." Soonyoung blinked in wonder at this, in complete and utter confusion at what she was getting at. Lack toes in taller ants. Lack toes. In taller ants. 

"Lack toes… Lactose intolerant." His voice was barely above a whisper, both hesitant of his conclusion, but also fearful for the answer—on whether she truly is lactose intolerant.

She nodded. 

His breathing was shaky, nerves alight as he nodded at her response. His heart felt like it had seized in his chest for a moment, yet even with the internal panic setting in, he still felt a smile twitching at his lips. 

"Well, lucky for you, this ice cream truck has ice cream you can eat." Her eyes widened, a wide toothy grin setting in. 

"Really?"

"Yeah. And you can trust me on this. I'm also lactose intolerant." She laughed in absolute wonderment, allowing him to scoop her up and take her to the ice cream truck he used to visit as a child himself.

Ordering the ice cream felt sort of like a fever dream as he was still processing the newfound information. The coincidences were becoming far too frequent for him to ignore. Chaerim's undeniable resemblance to him that has even stumped people outside their circumstances. Chaerim's genetic lactose intolerance that she had to have gotten from someone other than (y/n). Even now as they ate their sorbets, they had similar tastes. 

"I don't like this," Chaerim said, sticking out her tongue in disgust. 

"Then why'd you ask for it?"

"Mommy says I like peaches." Soonyoung chuckled at this, glancing down at his strawberry sorbet one last time before extending it to the girl seated beside him.

"Here, try mine." She leant forward, biting into the pink dome of sweetness before humming in delight and nodding. Gone was his strawberry, now eating her peach one—which he also didn't really like all that much. 

She was cozied up into his side, all but devouring her strawberry treat while Soonyoung soaked in the moment. He memorized the way the sun beat down upon them, how the cool breeze passed by and chilled the perspiration settling on their faces. The feeling of fulfillment gripping at his heart just from being with Chaerim, feeling her so close to his side, taking in the radiance she emitted, her happiness that he had managed to instill in her. It was an emotion he never thought existed, but now couldn't get enough. Something only she seemed to awaken in him, and something he'd quite possibly never grow weary of. 

"DK," She shouted enthusiastically all of the sudden, startling Soonyoung some out of his thoughts. 

"What's DK?"

"Uncle Seokmin." 

"How'd you come up with that?"

"It's the letters in his name. Seok and Min." 

"That's not… There's no… Okay." She giggled at him, causing him to laugh along with her. Her head pressed into the side of his chest, right along where his heart seemed to beat more obviously by the moment. It was such a perfect moment, and Soonyoung's delusions seemed to continuously feed into that delight, yet something in him nagged incessantly, a voice that seemed to call upon his downfall as his mouth opened. "Chaerim… How old are you?"

"I'm turning 4." She proudly raised up four fingers into Soonyoung's sight, and his heart all but shattered alongside the fantasy that had been concocted in his head at the moment.

She was 3. Far too young to have been his child. 

He didn't understand. There was so much that said otherwise. So many signs that supported his beliefs. So many reasons to prove that she was his daughter. It confused him. It left his heart in fractures. It had this numb feeling quickly settling in, reminding him that he was nothing. That he was delusional to have even thought for a moment Chaerim was his. That he had even the slightest chance of reconnecting with (y/n). That he could ever possibly get this dream life that he had abandoned on his own. 

"Soonie, I like ice cream. Can we get more later?" He bit his lip, blinking away the tears that threatened to surface and began nodding his head. A grin settled over his face at Chaerim's request, sighing in relief as he was forced back into reality. The reality that although he wasn't her father, he still very much so loved this little girl, and nothing could change that. 

"Of course, sunshine," he cooed, fingers combing through the thin strands of her jet black hair. "We'll have to get permission from your mommy first. I'm not even sure if I was allowed to do this much." 

"And when mommy says yes, we can all get ice cream together." Soonyoung's heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of (y/n), but his mind blanked upon the insinuation of her joining them. The three of them all together, spending a day in the park eating ice cream like a little family. 

His perfect little family. 

"Yeah. We'll do just that."

"Pinky promise?" She held out her hand to him, pinky jutted out expectantly as she looked up at him. 

"Pinky promise." He linked his pinky with hers, earning more of her pleased giggles that soothed away all of his anxieties. 

Time passed by quickly, and soon Soonyoung was waiting at (y/n)'s door, seated on the ground as Chaerim continued talking to him. The elevator they had used to arrive at the apartment chimed, and out rushed a panicked (y/n), eyes manic as she zeroed in on her daughter. 

"Mommy!" Chaerim called out, rushing over to the woman who dropped to her knees, a sigh of relief puffing out of her as she finally had her daughter back in her arms. 

"My baby, thank heavens you're alright." Soonyoung smiled fondly at the sight, taking another moment to watch the two before he rose to his feet, garnering (y/n)'s attention. 

"I'm sorry. I would've called you about the change in plans, but I basically only had Seokmin's number, and Seokmin was preoccupied." She nodded, also standing up with him, Chaerim wrapped in her arms. 

"I understand," she responded, heading over to her front door. "Could you get my keys out of my bag?" 

Soonyoung automatically obeyed, fishing out her keys in mere seconds as he unlocked the door for the two. He followed close behind, slipping her bag off her shoulder and allowing her to peacefully reconvene with her daughter in the living room, cradling the young girl for a few more minutes to herself. 

"Mommy, Soonie picked me up today!"

"I know, that's so fun, isn't it?"

"Yeah! DK was busy, so Soonie came."

"DK?"

"And then we went to the park!" Soonyoung snorted as Chaerim completely ignored (y/n)'s confusion, leaning against the wall and watching (y/n) struggle to keep up with her daughter. "We went to the park and we had ice cream!"

"Ice cream?" She turned to look at Soonyoung, a hint of confusion, but upon seeing him mouth 'sorbet', she nodded in understanding, smiling as she returned to her daughter. "That's exciting! Was it yummy?"

"No!" Chaerim proclaimed proudly, (y/n)'s jaw dropping at the rollercoaster of a conversation happening. "I had peach ice cream first."

"You don't like peaches." Soonyoung had to hold back his laugh, chest quaking with contained cackles, remembering how confidently Chaerim had explained her mom telling her she liked peaches. Though that laughter dissipated, quickly replaced with betrayal as Chaerim continued. 

"Soonie said I liked peaches." While Soonyoung was about to defend his position, (y/n) merely nodded, already accustomed to Chaerim's inconsistencies as a toddler. "But he gave me his strawberry, and it was really yummy!" 

"You swapped ice creams?" (y/n) asked, gaze returning to Soonyoung, a ghost of a smile on her lips with that familiar glint of fondness returning to her eyes, a sight that Soonyoung couldn't recall the last time seeing, and it had him shaken to his core right at that moment, stomach twisting in knots and heart pounding against his chest as the emotions swirling in him seemed to awaken from their hibernation. 

"Yeah we did! We can swap again next time with you!" (y/n) drifted her attention back to Chaerim, that fleeting tender gaze dissipating, soon replaced by confusion once more. 

"What?" 

"Soonie and I want you to eat ice cream with us!"

She didn't look back at Soonyoung, merely nodding in agreement and faintly smiling. 

"Of course, sweetheart. I'll join you guys next time." Before Chaerim could offer her pinky as she did him, (y/n) stood from the couch. "Soonie has to go now though! Go ahead and say goodbye!" 

(y/n) was already walking away as her daughter whined in protest, darting over to where Soonyoung resided and clinging to his legs. 

"Soonie, don't go!"

God, he didn't want to. It was the last thing on his mind, especially when he met her glassy eyed stare, a pleading gaze begging him not to leave her. His heart was too weak for this, but he knew he couldn't disobey (y/n)'s decree, and he begrudgingly lowered to his knees, gathering Chaerim in his arms for one last hug. 

"It's alright, sunshine. There's always another day. I made a promise, didn't I?" With one last squeeze, he pulled away, making sure he looked at her with the most unwaveringly resolute expression he could muster. "And I never break my promises." 

She giggled and nodded, hugging him again before running off to her room, leaving (y/n) and him alone at the foyer. 

"I'm really sorry about today," Soonyoung began, quick to break the silence before it grew to be too tense. "Seokmin had that issue with his grandmother, and he forgot to text me Jihyo's address–"

"It's okay, Soonyoung. Really." Her voice was soft as she cut him off, hand raised to silence him. "I should be thanking you, to be honest. This is probably the most fun she's had in a long time." 

"No need to thank me at all." Soonyoung gave a subtle laugh, looking down at his feet bashfully. "Chaerim is the sweetest little girl out there. I had a very good day with her." 

(y/n) smiled at this, nodding at his words before turning to begin making dinner. 

"I'm glad. She seems to really like you." She hesitated for a moment, causing mid sentence. "Thank you… for giving her your time of day. It really means a lot to us."

"(y/n)..." He knew where her words came from. He could hear it in her tone. The pain. The betrayal. The wounds still fresh from when he had left her that morning. Left her to wake up on her own to an empty bed and no other word from him. Completely and utterly alone. He knew what he had done, and while he regretted it with every fiber of his being, he still stood there, contemplating what he could possibly say to someone he had left behind years and years ago. Because no matter how much he regrets his actions, he can never take it back. "I'm sorry… I know it doesn't make up for anything, but truly, I'm genuinely, desperately sorry."

Her eyes were focused on the granite of her countertop, hands shaking while clenched together on the surface. She was holding so much in, and it killed Soonyoung. Knowing he had left her this way. That he reduced her to this state.

"It's fine. It's in the past." Her voice was steady and calm, a contrast to her physical appearance where she seemed to be barely holding herself up. But in typical (y/n) fashion, she looked up at him, all emotion stowed away as she greeted him with that professional facade of hers; the one that she used on everyone to hide how she truly felt. The facade that she had never once directed to him because he could see right through it every time. And it hurt. Seeing how she couldn't even bear to share even a fragment of emotion to him anymore, as if last night's crying fest between the two was for nothing. He hated it. Indifference felt even colder than the sting of hatred. He'd much rather have preferred she loathed him to the depths of his soul, yet she just waved it off, smiling and making her way around him and to her door. "New era, new me. There's no use in holding grudges or holding on to the past. I appreciate everything you've done for Chaerim today. But I'm sure she's taken up quite a bit of your day, and I wouldn't want to waste anymore of your time."

The door was wide open before Soonyoung could even get a say in, and he unwillingly walked out of the apartment, steps slow and dragging as he passed by (y/n) avoiding his stare by focusing on the floor beneath them. 

"I…" Soonyoung spoke as he passed the threshold of their home, turning around before (y/n) could start closing the door. She looked up at him, brows furrowed together warily at what he could possibly want. "Can I… take Chaerim out some days while I'm here?" Her mouth fell open, but nothing came out, merely shocked to hear Soonyoung's preposition. "I don't have any plans this month, and I really did enjoy my time with her. And I'll take good care of her. That is, only if we have your permission, of course." 

"I'll… I'll have to see how she feels about this. You know, since it's also her opinion on the matter."

"Of course." Soonyoung hesitated for a moment, biting his lip in thought, but he urged himself to push forward. "Can I… give you my number? So we can stay in contact about… Chaerim?" 

"Soonyoung…" She was tongue-tied to say the least, fumbling over noncommittal words and syllables, trying to get herself out of this situation, but to no avail. It brought a smile to his face as she pulled out her phone and handed it to him, because he did have a point. As a mother, she wouldn't want what happened today to happen again. Yes, Soonyoung was playing on her natural maternal instincts, but he meant well nevertheless. 

With their numbers exchanged, she bid him farewell, thanking him one last time before allowing the door to fall closed behind her. And Soonyoung walked out of that apartment building triumphantly, pleased with himself and how his day had gone. His heart felt more full than it ever had before, all because he had the knowledge of (y/n)'s number stored into his phone. It was a silly thing, but something that had him beaming to himself as he took a moment to stare at her contact in his car. He felt like a schoolboy all over again, gushing about his crush who had given him the bare minimum, but God did the bare minimum feel like everything he's ever wanted in life. 

He was snapped out of his revelry with his phone vibrating in hand, Seokmin's contact taking over his screen with an incoming call. 

"Hello?" Soonyoung answered. 

"Soonyoung, hey! It's Seokmin. I just wanted to check up on how everything's going. My grandma got checked up, she just has a few bruises that should clear up in a few weeks. Car doesn't look too good, but at least she's fine."

"That's great!" Soonyoung sighed for his friend, smiling at the good news. "I'm glad to hear everything is okay. As for me, today went well. I picked up Chaerim and took her to the park. We had some sorbets together, walked around a bit, and I just finished dropping her off at (y/n)'s." 

"Awesome, I seriously owe you, dude."

"No, you don't." Soonyoung's eyes glanced up to (y/n)'s floor, comfortingly smiling at whatever the girls could be up to at this time. "I honestly owe you, if we're being honest."

"Ah, you see what I mean?" Seokmin spoke in a teasing manner, and Soonyoung could already envision the shit eating grin across his friend's face. "Isn't she the sweetest thing ever. I love hanging out with her." 

"I do, too," Soonyoung confessed, eyes slowly moving down from the apartment building, naturally landing on his rearview mirror with a clear image of Chaerim's now empty booster seat. "Listen, Seokmin, I have a… serious question to ask you." 

"Shoot, what's up?"

"Who's Chaerim's father?" 

The line was dead silent with only the natural buzz of feedback to greet his ears. His hand clenched at the wheel, waiting for Seokmin's words which seemed to be far too delayed for his taste. As if this silence would stretch on for another eon with Soonyoung wasting away, waiting in anticipation for his answer, only hoping it's the one he wants. 

"I don't know," Seokmin responded, his tone growing grave with his words. "I'm not sure… But I mean, Jihyo is basically her dad. We like to joke around that she's more of a dad than an aunt to the girl, you know what I mean?" Soonyoung pursed his lips, easily seeing how Seokmin redirected the conversation. But he didn't dwell on that, nodding to himself at his friend's excuse of an answer. 

"Yeah, I get you. Jihyo is a real one." 

"I actually have to go and deal with her now, because I had like 20 missed calls from her and I called you first to delay the inevitable when I have to call her back." Soonyoung expelled some air from his nose in a soft, breathy laugh. 

"I wish you luck, my friend." 

"Thank you, I'll be needing it. I'll pick you up at 8 tonight. Sounds good?"

"Sounds good to me."

Soonyoung may have drank too much last night. And he may have woken up with a hangover so bad that even laying on his pillow had his head pounding. All of this may hold true, but none of it stopped Soonyoung from downing some painkillers and heading out to the daycare, far too excited to even consider the pain throbbing at his skull. Because through all of the agony he had woken to, there was one shining light at the end of the dim tunnel; a text from (y/n), saying that both she and Chaerim had consented to him picking her up and spending the day with her. 

He was lucky that the other guys were just as drunk as him, Seokmin not even reading Soonyoung's message telling him he was going to be busy that day—perhaps still knocked out after their rambunctious night, one that Soonyoung struggled to remember. 

He could only remember glimpses of memories here and there. Joshua pulling a Gatorade out of his backpack and mixing it with his shot, attracting the attention of passersby who also wanted a douse of Gatorade infused in their liquor. He remembered Seokmin trying to front flip on the karaoke stage and failing miserably, laying there flat on his back as the instrumental to Call Me Maybe continued playing in the background. He remembered Mingyu and Chan trying to impress girls by using their strength in quite possibly the dumbest way Soonyoung had ever seen being attempted; Chan trying to do pull ups on Mingyu's arms who desperately flexed to try and hold the boy up—though it did manage to impress many guys at the bar, and they made quite a few gym friends along the way.

He was just grateful he managed to find his way home somehow in one piece, and made it a reminder to check on the others later in the day when they've likely recovered. But for now, he was on his way to the daycare, ready to retrieve Chaerim early so they could be together for even longer today. 

The pick up was much like the day before, though this time, Soonyoung came before naptime and was greeted by many smiling faces playing together in the next room. The lady came to greet him once more as Chaerim clung to him again, and soon they were off. 

"Where are we going today, Soonie!" She shouted from where she sat, inside voice out the window as she kicked her feet excitedly once more. The sight warmed his heart, the small mirrored image of her in his rearview mirror sparking this wholesome comfort in his heart, a fond smile stretching across his face. 

"I haven't decided yet, sunshine," he replied. "We can go to the zoo–"

"The zoo!" She cried enthusiastically, the shrillness of her voice somewhat grating on his ear, triggering another throbbing sensation in his head, though he shook it off with a wince and a shrug. "I want the zoo, Soonie! I want the zoo!"

"Or we can go to the mall and I can buy you whatever you want."

She grew quiet all of a sudden, startling Soonyoung who quickly glanced at his rearview mirror to see the girl staring off into oblivion, mouth ajar and eyes glazed over. She sat there completely motionless for a few seconds, and Soonyoung was about to pull over to check on her when she suddenly sat up again. 

"Soonie buys me toys at the zoo." 

He blinked at her proposition, but nevertheless nodded with a laugh. 

"Sounds like a plan. Good job finding a compromise so quickly." 

"What's a com-pom-rise?" 

The remainder of the journey was repetitive, to say the least, with Chaerim babbling nonsensically, hitting Soonyoung with unexpected questions as if to keep him on track with her discussions, singing songs together, and at some point she dozed off for five minutes before waking up fully energized. 

And the zoo was as good an idea as ever, perhaps better than it had gone in his head when he had been deliberating on potential places to take the young girl. Her smile seemed to never fade throughout the day, a permanent fixture on her face as he brought her to each and every animal they had to offer. He'd hold her up to get a better view of the monkeys, summarize what the tour guides said in words she'd understand, even had his arm wrapped around her the entire time she was in the petting zoo, far too wary to approach any of the animals on her own.

All the while, he snapped photos of her and him, sending them to (y/n) to keep her updated. It felt bittersweet to have her on speed dial once more. Accessible to him at any moment in time. He'd remember them texting each other at night, using up all of their minutes just to be with the other. And later on, they'd call each other for hours at a time, his face pressed into the pillow and his phone resting on his ear, dozing off to the sound of her absent-minded humming. Though again, they were merely memories at this point. And he was reminded of that as he sent her the next batch of images, the last one staring back at him almost mockingly.

One where his face was pressed against Chaerim's, the both of them sporting the same toothy smile, cheeks puffed with joy and eyes crinkled into slits. While the fact still remained—that being Chaerim is not his biological child—he couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort looking at the image. A sort of reminder of what could have been. That this little girl is what his child with (y/n) would've looked like had he not thrown everything away.

"Soonie," said little girl called up to him, tugging at the hem of his shirt to summon his attention. "I'm tired." 

That's right, he picked her up before naptime. Not only that, but they've been walking around the zoo for a few hours now. Of course she's bound to be tired, she's still practically a baby. He could probably find a quiet spot where she can nap. She can use his jacket as a blanket and his lap as a pillow. Would that be sufficient enough? What if it's too sunny out for her to nap? Is there a place that's even quiet enough? What if she collapses on him out of exhaustion? 

Another tug at his shirt has him crouching to her height almost immediately, and Chaerim took the opportunity to latch onto his neck, scrambling into his arms so when he stood again, she was safely nestled against him. As if through magic, her touch settled the frenzied thoughts swirling in his head, silencing his incessant doubts and worries with a simple hug. The ends of her pigtails tickled beneath his jaw, grounding him and bringing a smile to his face. 

This must've been what it felt like to be a father. The thought harrowing, the responsibilities debilitating, worries for your child being an inevitable occurrence with every waking moment. Yet at the end of the day, when you had them in your arm, feeling their comforting weight against you, it was like there was nothing to even worry about. Like all of those struggles endured were worth it in the end. Like nothing else in the world mattered, as long as they were safe and happy. This fulfilling sense of harmony like the calm after the storm, the remedy to his qualms, the spark of warmth in an otherwise frigid wasteland.

What power such a tiny human held, one that he had only met some few days ago, yet one that he found himself loving wholeheartedly, willing to throw everything away if that's what she asked of him. There they sat on a secluded bench, his jacket draped on her back as she dozed off on his shoulder. The hanging branches above them offered a generous amount of shade, yet those pesky rays of light that peeked through the leaves threatened Chaerim's rest, so Soonyoung sat there with his hand hovering over her face, making sure nothing disturbed her peace. His arm ached and his shoulder had long gone numb from keeping its position, though he found he couldn't care less about these minor inconveniences. 

Not when his little sunshine was sleeping calmly against him, her steady breaths puffing against his neck as her fists weakly pawed at his shirt. 

The zoo trip finally reached its conclusion, Chaerim strapped into her car seat between her new flamingo, giraffe, and tiger toys, who were also strapped into their seats. The latter was a given, Soonyoung already snagging it from its hook and adding it to her pile. She didn't complain though, if her talking to her new tiger was any indication. On the way home, she had already bestowed upon it the noble name of Stripey, as well as an entire backstory about Stripey having fled from her wartorn kingdom before the enemy lion troops were to capture her, taking refuge in the zoo until Chaerim came to her rescue.

Soonyoung was very invested, on the edge of his seat whenever she hit him with yet another plot twist to the convoluted story, to the point that he hadn't even realized he'd made it to the apartment building until he had actually parked, nor did he truly acknowledge the situation at hand until Chaerim had rapped her knuckles against the door once they had reached the apartment itself. 

Moments later, the door opened, and there stood (y/n) in all of her glory. It was idiotic how absolutely awestruck Soonyoung was every time he saw. How enamored he was with her whenever he so much as stood in her presence. The impact she had on him still to this day something that astonished him, though at the same time didn't necessarily surprise him, as she had lingered in his mind practically every day since the moment he first met her. 

Soonyoung stood in sheer wonderment as usual, though was suddenly sent hurtling into a completely different sense of astoundment as she blessed him with a smile. A warm and genuine grin with tinges of bittersweet poignancy at its edges. It wasn't that conflicted, distant gaze she usually looked at him with, watching him as one would an exhibit of sorts. It felt new, yet comfortingly familiar in a way. As if slowly but surely, her exterior was melting away. 

"Mommy!" Chaerim shouted, squirming out of Soonyoung's arms the moment (y/n) appeared. She managed to wrangle the little girl from Soonyoung's wavering grip, chuckling to herself at the fear that flashed Soonyoung's eyes the moment he thought he'd drop Chaerim. He was left to trail after the two, right arm still clutching the three stuffed animals and the small gift shop bag. All the while, Chaerim babbled on to her mother about the entirety of her day. 

Soonyoung was leant against the wall as the two girls sat themselves on the couch, the scene similar to the day before, yet also vastly different. The setting sun's rays seeping in through the windows no longer felt like an anxious conclusion to the day, though instead a hopeful end. One where Soonyoung could rest assured that he wasn't being completely removed from the equation. He couldn't really pinpoint it, but it felt as if something changed. As if turning a new leaf. Watching the girls talk hadn't felt like he was intruding on a private conversation, but instead spectating the amusing scene of a toddler desperately strewing words together to describe the events of the zoo to her mother. 

"And then–and then Soonie and I went to see the rhinos, and they were like this big," she exclaimed excitedly, tossing her arms open to indicate the sheer size of the animals mentioned. (y/n) nodded, undoing Chaerim's pigtails and combing through her locks. "And then we saw the giraffes and they were even bigger!"

"No way," (y/n) responded, triggering another surge of excitement from the little girl who insisted vehemently on the giraffe's staggering height. Soonyoung rested his head against the wall, a wide smile stretched across his face. (y/n) glanced over at him, biting back her own smile while Chaerim continued.

Something had changed. A shift in the atmosphere that was unlike yesterday's. It felt almost unfair that Soonyoung couldn't narrow down what exactly it was, yet either way he was immensely grateful, especially as (y/n) redirected her attention to him, dismissing Chaerim for now. She stood from the couch, walking into the kitchen, and Soonyoung naturally followed after her, no words needed. 

"Looks like she had fun," (y/n) stated, an entertained laugh slipping out at the end of her sentence.

"She did, I'm glad to see that." Soonyoung glanced into the living room where the aforementioned little girl watched her cartoons in an almost dazed state. "I was worried she wouldn't like it." 

"Please, she got to see animals and she got toys at the end of it all. You couldn't have made her happier." She briefly opened the fridge, pulling out a sealed container before placing it on the island countertop. Soonyoung glanced between it and her for a few moments, not understanding the sudden appearance of the item, but with a roll of her eyes, (y/n) slid it closer to him. "Hangover soup." 

Soonyoung's mouth fell open, eyes widening some as he hesitantly brought the dish closer. 

"How did you know?" She looked at him with amused confusion, as if the answer to the question was obvious. Nonetheless, she shrugged with a smirk. 

"Maybe a little birdie told me you all were getting wasted last night." Soonyoung giggled some, thoughts returning to his friend who most likely is dealing with the same pain as him. He'd be sure to share this with Seokmin when he sees him next. 

"Thank you. Really. You didn't have to do all this."

"Of course I did." She waved him off dismissively, faux exasperation at his humility. His lips pursed into a thin line, fingers fiddling with the twine loops of the gift bag before finally lifting it and placing it on the counter with a soft thud. It was now her turn to look between the bag and him expectantly, only for him to follow her prior movements, sliding the bag across the counter much the same as the soup. 

Hesitatingly, she took the item, the light touch of her fingers causing the dense paper material to crinkle under her. She wore an appreciative, yet otherwise curious, smile as she fished out whatever resided in the bag, lifting it from its bed of wrapping and into the light. 

A small white leather box, unassuming in presentation, to the point that she hadn't even spared a second thought before opening it, unveiling a pair of pearl earrings. Her mouth fell agape, a small gasp leaving past her lips. She stared for a moment more at the jewelry before looking back up at Soonyoung. 

"The zoo had an area where they bred oysters," he explained, his voice coming out softer than intended, yet even so still feeling out of place in the otherwise quiet atmosphere with only the sounds of children's cartoons offering a low humming white noise in the background. She turned back to the earrings, a finger tracing over the smooth surface of the item at hand. "I hope you still like pearls. I saw them and thought of you." 

"I love them." Her response came as quietly as his own, though her voice had a crack in it that had Soonyoung's brows raising in concern. Meeting his gaze again proved his suspicions correct, her eyes now glassy with a pout on her lip as she clutched the box closer to her chest. 

"Aww, baby, don't cry." Soonyoung let out a laugh, body moving instinctively as he opened his arms. It wasn't until she had already shuffled into his embrace, whining into his chest and quietly releasing her tears, that he realized what he'd done. Though feeling her against him, the warmth of her tears against his shirt, that soothing aroma of hers that always calmed his nerves, the weight of her head pressing into him, quelled the worries in his heart. Like mother, like daughter, the two girls holding such an authority over him to be able to sway his every thought and his every emotion. For the next few minutes, he reveled in whatever comfort he could acquire, arms squeezing (y/n) to him as she mumbled her thanks to the man. 

For once, Soonyoung felt a sense of completion, more sated holding (y/n) than he had been at his own graduation. His lips twitched into a smile, and he was sure (y/n) must have heard the beating of his heart kick up with every passing moment, though she didn't comment on it. Chaerim had begun singing the songs on her show, and the orange glow of the setting sun continued basking them in its warm honey-like ambience. 

For once in his both hectic and monotonous life, he felt a stability he feared he'd never experience, the key to his peace resting in the hands of (y/n) herself. As if he had strayed from his intended path, only to veer back to her. Like no matter how far you throw a rock into the air, it's bound to return to the earth below it. No matter how far he fled from home, no matter how distant he grew from her, he'd always find his way back to (y/n). Like it was meant to be. And as he cradled her to him, he knew it was because it truly was meant to be.

He didn't know for how long he'd stood there holding (y/n), rocking them back and forth calmly as they embraced one another, though it was the sound of the apartment door opening that brought them back to reality, regrettably separating as Jihyo waltzed in. She had a look of surprise on her face for a moment, but offered Soonyoung a kind smile in greeting. 

"I should head out," Soonyoung quietly spoke, turning back to (y/n) after waving to Jihyo. 

"I'll walk you out," she replied, already walking out of the kitchen and into the main hall.

Soonyoung made a brief detour to the living room, crouching in front of the couch where Chaerim resided. 

"I'm heading out now." Chaerim immediately threw herself at him, causing Soonyoung to briefly huff at the sudden action. 

"I want Soonie to stay." 

"I can't, sunshine. We'll hang out again tomorrow, yeah?"

"Zoo?"

"I was thinking we could go to the aquarium. We can see more water animals." She gasped, pulling herself away from him to nod enthusiastically. Soonyoung laughed, nodding along with her and promising to pick her up from daycare again. Though before he could stand up, she grabbed him again, dragging him closer to her. 

"Come to my birthday," she insisted, practically vibrating with excitement. "It's really soon. Mommy says the 17th. Come to my birthday." 

"Okay, sunshine, I'm there."

She finally let him go, smiling as he walked back to the hallway where Jihyo and (y/n) stood. Jihyo bid Soonyoung a brief goodbye before heading to the living room with Chaerim. 

"I can't thank you enough for taking care of Chaerim, and for my earrings." (y/n) fiddled with the box still in her hand, and Soonyoung couldn't help but to grin at her shyness. 

"Of course. Nothing but the best for you both." 

"And thank you for the pictures… I really liked them." 

"I'm glad to hear." He felt his cheeks warming under her attention, bashfully looking down at his feet. "I'll send more tomorrow. We're going to the aquarium." 

"Oh, she's going to love that."

There was a pause between them, a silence as they looked at each other one last time. Soonyoung couldn't help but to smile whilst admiring her, remembering how he'd zone out in class and miss the entire lesson because he was staring at the back of her head. Old habits die hard. 

A sudden holler from the living room drew their attention back to the present, snickering at Chaerim's hoots of laughter from beyond the apartment. Though it reminded Soonyoung of what had happened some few moments ago. 

"Chaerim invited me to her birthday." (y/n) smiled at this, nodding her head at his words. 

"Yeah, it's coming up in just a few days. It's just going to be a little get together with Jihyo, Seokmin, and I. Maybe some of the guys, but who knows. We'd love to have you over." 

"I'd love to attend. So this is me RSVPing for that." 

"I'll be sure to write your name on the list of attendees." They shared another laugh together.

Soonyoung couldn't believe how light it felt to be with her today. That agonizingly taxing weight which once lingered over him in her presence now all but dissipated. He couldn't tell what had happened, but God he'd be lying if he said he wasn't eternally grateful for such a turn of events.

The glee in this revelation remained with him as he drove home, and also as he ate all of the hangover soup, changing his mind about sharing with Seokmin, keeping (y/n)'s gift all to himself. 

"Bullshit!" Chan shouted, already whipping his hand out towards the messily strewn pile of cards at the center of the table. Flipping over the first two of the pile revealed an ace and a ten—not the two aces that Jeonghan had initially declared. 

The man groaned to himself as he dragged the entire pile over, causing Chan to victoriously raise his arms up in the air. Beside him, Mingyu patted his back while Seokmin hyped him up, the two sporting encouraging smiles for the youngest's achievement. With a new round starting, Soonyoung grabbed two from his hand and placed them at the now barren center. 

"Two aces," he announced, leaning back and refusing to meet anyone's perceptive stare. No matter how drunk they got, they somehow always remained vigilant when it came down to Bullshit. 

"One two," Wonwoo muttered afterwards, dropping a card into the newly accumulating pile. 

"Two threes," Jihoon leant forward to join with his addition, leaning back seconds after and absentmindedly reorganizing the cards in his hand currently, unaware of the six other men staring at him in disbelief. 

"Um… Bullshit?" Seokmin mumbled confusedly, causing Jihoon to finally peek over and see that the two supposed threes he'd dropped were instead face up, revealing instead a three and a nine. 

"No– Wait– Don't look at that." He dove forward to retrieve his cards, but he knew it was too late as the lot all erupted into laughter, shouting out Jihoon's slip up and pushing the slim pile over to him. "I hate this game. Why are we even playing this game? I don't want to play this game. Let's play Uno." 

"Like that's any less ruthless," Jeonghan grumbled, brandishing his hand which made up a good chunk of the 52 count deck of theirs. Jihoon took another swig of his beer, irate at the turn of events.

"Someone better win soon then, or I'm leaving the party early." 

"Don't worry," Chan stood to his feet, chair scraping back as he assumed a heroic pose. He raised his hand up, a single card resting between his two fingers. "I've got that covered." He gently placed the card at the center of the table, his voice just as soft as he announced. "One four."

Vernon glanced down at his cards, brow raising as he glanced from his hand to Chan. His mouth had momentarily opened, but before he could call the boy out on his fib, Jihoon all but tossed his cards ceremoniously onto the table, clapping and monotonously cheering for the winner of the game. 

"Hooray, good job. Seokmin, get your Uno." 

As the new game was starting, Seokmin dealing out everyone's seven cards, Soonyoung's phone buzzed against his lap. With one last tentative sip of his drink, not wanting to go through another terrible hangover so soon, he pulled out his phone under the table. Almost immediately, his expression brightened, putting down his drink and scooting out from the table. 

"Excuse me, I have to take this," he quickly stated, shuffling away from the rowdy bunch and into the hall. The noise was muted some here, just enough that he could probably talk peacefully on the phone, though if not, Seokmin's bedroom door was right there next to him. With one last sigh, he swiped on the incoming call, voice unexpectedly wavering as he answered. "Hello?"

"Soonie!" The familiar shrill voice of Chaerim momentarily surprised him, though his shock washed away rather quickly. 

"Hello, sunshine! How are you?" Soonyoung already found himself slipping into the aforementioned bedroom, knowing his voice would carry over to where the others resided. 

"I'm good!"

With the formalities over and out of the way, she began spewing out near nonsense supposedly telling Soonyoung about her day from what he could decipher. He hummed affirmatively and responded when need be, though for the most part just sat there with a dopey smile as the little girl continued on with her speech. From beyond her voice, Soonyoung could hear (y/n) in the background, giggling to herself as Chaerim talked, and it had Soonyoung biting his lip, his cheeks aching with the sheer breadth of his grin. 

"Soonie, you didn't pick me up today," she noted randomly. 

"I know, sweet pea, it's the weekend. Don't you want to spend time with your mommy?" 

"No, I'm okay." Soonyoung laughed as (y/n) whined at her daughter's quick dismissal of her, even more so when (y/n) began seemingly wrestling the child for the phone back. "No! I want Soonie! No!" 

"You're quickly losing Soonie privileges, Chae." (y/n) warned, voice authoritative, yet nevertheless carrying a jesting undertone.

"Soonie, she's so mean to me. Where are you? Why aren't you here?" 

"I'm at Uncle Seokmin's house."

"I want to go to Uncle Seokmin's house. I want to be with Soonie." His heart felt so incredibly full, his hand clenching over where the organ was beating. She was too precious for this world, he thought. If he hadn't already had a drink or two, he'd be driving over to the apartment to reunite with Chaerim right then and there. Though with some forced restraint, he tethered himself back to reality, pouting at his newfound maturity. 

"I can't, Soonie isn't feeling very well right now." 

"Oh no! Why are you sick?"

"I drank some… icky water… and now I'm too weak to drive over to you." 

"Soonie, don't die." Her voice was suddenly so terribly sad, and Soonyoung immediately regretted his words. 

"No, I'm just feeling a little sick! I'm not big sick!"

"The icky water made Soonie's tummy hurt. You know how tummy aches feel, right?" (y/n) began explaining, earning a sound of acknowledgement from the little girl who quickly returned to the phone. 

"Soonie, it's okay, I get tummy aches, too. It's okay, it's okay." 

"Thank you, sweetie. I'll be sure to feel better before your birthday." 

He could hear (y/n) whispering to Chaerim, her voice quiet as she told Chaerim to say goodnight to him. 

"Goodnight, Soonie! I can't wait to see you on my birthday! I miss you!"

"I miss you, too."

"I love you." 

If his heart had felt full before, it was practically overflowing now, that overabundance of warmth now seeping into his stomach, gripping him with its comfort and bringing a flush to his face. 

"I love you, too, sunshine." 

There was some commotion on the other line, the two quietly speaking to each other, though now Soonyoung couldn't really decipher it. He just sat there, permanent smile on his face, still reeling over Chaerim's farewell. It felt nice. To be loved by this little girl that he had already accepted he loved back with all of his heart. It felt gratifying, that of all people, Chaerim came to love him. 

"Hey," (y/n)'s voice sounded from the phone. 

"Hi." He found himself looking down at the floor, socked feet fiddling with the carpet beneath him, brushing it back and forth and toying with the opposing shades it created.

After a little over a week, it still felt so surreal to hear (y/n) again. To be near her. To be able to actually talk to her. As if his six year drought had come to an end with her monsoon-like return. As if she brought life back to his otherwise desolate form. He felt more alive these last few days than he has in the half decade he's been away. He was beginning to feel concerned for himself, because he honestly couldn't even remember the past six years he's been gone, all of it like a numbing fever dream where he'd survived on autopilot alone.

But now he was present. He felt himself again. He felt like a human being. As dependent as it may sound, (y/n) made him who he was, and he was nothing without her. 

"Sorry about that. She refused to go to sleep until she saw Soonie today." 

"I don't mind. It did feel weird today not seeing her." 

"You spoil her too much. She still refuses to let go of her manta ray stuffed animal since you got it for her at the aquarium." Soonyoung chuckled at this, remembering that day fondly. 

"That's surprising, considering she was terrified to even approach the stingray petting area." (y/n) laughed, remembering the picture Soonyoung sent her of him smiling at the camera while Chaerim was red faced and crying next to the said animal petting area. 

"Says the guy who had to be protected by that same little girl when you both went to the circus."

"Hey." Soonyoung's quick interjection had (y/n) bursting into another fit of giggles. "Those clowns were terrifying. She was a brave soul that day. I wouldn't have come out alive." 

"Of course, I understand."

"Well, we'll see who's talking when we take you to an amusement park for the rollercoasters." She gasped at his threat, her voice dropping into a pained whisper soon after. 

"You wouldn't dare."

"I would, you know I would." 

"I'm being abused by both my daughter and you, I can't handle this." 

His heart felt light, soaring about frivolously without a care in the world. This dark mass which once clung to it had slowly but surely faded away, taking with it the dense murkiness it once obscured Soonyoung's life with. Those butterflies in his stomach fluttered with it, joyous and abundant after their long hibernation, dormant until (y/n) had come back into the picture. 

Her voice spoke to him like a lullaby, soft and tranquil as she chatted faintly, words light and breathy and weaving together into incoherency, though he didn't really mind, reminded of the days they'd do just this until they passed out. 

"(y/n), you're tired," Soonyoung uttered, to which she hummed in consideration. 

"I am."

"You should go to sleep." There was an ache in his heart, sending her off so early, though he couldn't keep her to himself all night. She was busy, and sleep was practically a rare commodity to her. 

Silence settled over the two, with only the grainy feedback of the phone call to occupy them, yet Soonyoung still found it to be comforting merely knowing she was on the other line. He'd probably stay on the phone with her all night like this if he could, but he really should let her go. 

"I don't want to." Her response was low, a whisper into the phone, as if having uttered something she shouldn't have. His breath stuttered, body stiffening while his heart seized in on itself, thudding against his chest to the point that it almost ached. And with the undeniable warmth coursing through his veins at the moment, he couldn't help but grin to himself, clutching the phone tighter in his hand.

"I don't want you to either."

She hummed appreciatively at this, a content thrum against his ear, and for a moment, he was beside her. He was laying there, her hair fanning out against her pillow, eyes slid shut with the faintest trace of a smile gracing her lips. He could feel her breath against his skin, her presence like an otherworldly comfort. He could hear her breathing growing steadier by the minute as they basked in the silence. Telltale sign of her drifting off. And the thought seemed to come to him naturally, like an old record that still played the same tune as he began rambling. 

"The guys are playing Uno in the other room. We were playing BS, but Jihoon lost his patience a bit." He heard a slight chuckle on her side, though one that hadn't deterred her already tired state. "I'm pretty sure he's still losing his patience. Uno is much worse than BS. I'll text you the details tomorrow once I go out there again later." He leant back, laying flat on Seokmin's bed with his phone still pressed to his cheek. "I already got Chaerim her gift. I don't know if I should tell you. I think you'll get mad at me. But Chaerim will like it at least. I know she will."

He paused for a moment, thoughts still whirling in his head. He chuckled to himself thinking about his gift, the mental image of Chaerim using it already playing in his head.

Chaerim. 

"I really did miss my little sunshine today. I know we've hung out everyday, but it still feels lonely without her. On the bright side, I already know where I'm taking her next. I think she'd like the ice skating rink. The one we used to go to."

Memories came to him. Memories of that very rink. Of his friends and him all busting their ass more than once. Jun clinging to the plexiglass paneling on the rink's perimeter. Jihoon teetering with his legs and arms spread out as far as possible. Chan accidentally learning to skate backwards first. Soonyoung struggling to grasp the concept of ice skating, clinging to (y/n) like his life depended on it. Really, it did. And she'd just laugh and let him hold her, his arms wrapped around her body with his head resting on her shoulders, and she'd skate them around while Soonyoung just cradled her to him. 

He hasn't skated in years. Not since (y/n). He didn't even realize this until this very moment. 

"Maybe I should hold out on the skating rink for another day. I don't think I can actually skate. I never really learned." He pursed his lips, blinking back his sadness. "I never learned because once I did, it would mean I wouldn't need you anymore. I wouldn't be able to hold you like I did. It would've just taken away one of the ways I showed my love to you." The blinking was becoming redundant as he felt his eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. "But it was kinda pointless in the end since I was the one that took away our love. Since I was the one that gave up." 

He scoffed as he felt the first tear slip by, as if he even deserved to cry at this point. Though once the second and the third slipped by, that indignant irritation disappeared, leaving behind the raw sadness that had been plaguing him for years. He frowned, staring at the popcorn ceiling above him. It looked like (y/n)'s ceiling growing up.

He was reminded of those sleepless nights when she'd jostle him awake, either anxious with her thoughts or scared from a nightmare, and he'd lay awake with her. They'd rest their heads against one another as she talked to him, released her thoughts so they were no longer trapped in her head. And he'd comfort her with words or cuddles. He'd point at the textured ceiling staring down from above them, making constellations and telling her whatever convoluted story he'd make up on the spot. Until she had fallen asleep peacefully to the sound of his voice, a smile on her face as he kissed her goodnight before falling asleep himself. 

Staring up at that very ceiling, the replacement for their city's light polluted sky, only served to make him cry harder. He shook his head at the thought, at his words he'd only just uttered. 

"I gave up our relationship like a fucking idiot," he muttered, voice wrought with emotion, wavering with the tension in his throat. "But I never gave up our love. Never once in my life have I ever stopped loving you. And I never will. Even after you've moved on, I'll still be here, knowing that I lost my soulmate the night I walked away. The night I left you." He bit his lip at the memory, sniffling as softly as he could. From the sound of her breathing, he knew she was asleep, yet he kept going. "That was the most painful thing I've ever had to do. Leaving you was a mistake, but it was just… atrocious of me to leave you alone in my bed like that. I should've done better. I should've said goodbye to you personally like I had wanted to." A sob slipped past his lips for a moment, but he brought his fist up to his mouth, concealing the despair that seeped out of him with every word. "I shouldn't have even left you in the first place."

He moved to wipe his tears, smiling through the pain as he heard the deep steady breaths on the other line, anchoring him back to the present. 

"I love you," he admitted, a laugh following at the end of it. "I love you so much. More than I could ever even try to explain. I love you." His hand flew up to his hair, tugging at the strands as more tears flooded his eyes, that agonized smile stretching further across his face. "I love the way you haven't changed over the years. I love the way you still make me happy. I love how strong and intelligent you are. I love how you still show your love through different means. I love that you made me soup when I was hungover. I love that you wear those pearl earrings I got you everyday. I love how you still fall asleep to my voice. I love Chaerim. I love your little family." Another shaky breath, and the tension which had built up over the course of his confession unraveled, his body going limp, and that smile slackened until it was truly genuine. A genuine, gentle, ever so loving, absolutely enamored smile as he let it all go. As he accepted his flaws. His mistakes from the past. His frenzied emotions. His absolute, undeniable, to the moon sort of love he held for (y/n). "I love you." 

The last few minutes of the call were spent with Soonyoung silently crying, letting out the last shreds of despair wracking his body. Her breathing soothed his tormented heart, reminding him of the constant she was to him. That anchor in his life he so desperately needed, tethering him to her lest he stray wayward once more. He felt that tug once more. That urge to run directly to her. To watch her peaceful form beside him, memorizing every line and every detail of her face, tracing the outlines of her form carefully with his eyes, until he had it all ingrained in his mind where he'd then fall asleep, pressing a kiss to her forehead before drifting off. 

"Goodnight, my love," he muttered, which was all he could do at this point, smiling warmly as he took in the last remnants of her presence before he'd have to leave. "Sweet dreams." 

The game had all but stopped once Soonyoung had come back an hour later with tear stained cheeks and blood shot eyes, face red and puffy, all the while attempting to act as nonchalant as possible, as if he hadn't just walked out of the most devastating experience he'd ever encountered. 

"You good?" Chan was the first to break the silence, eyebrow raised in concern at the state of his elder. Soonyoung nodded. 

"Yeah, why?" His voice cracked, as if the cherry on top to this entire fiasco. 

"Who was that on the phone?" Wonwoo was the next to speak, fiddling with the cards in his hands. 

"Oh, it was just (y/n) and Chaerim."

The boys uttered a collective 'ah' in understanding, returning to their game as if nothing had happened. That is except Jihoon, taking another gulp of beer with a sigh followed after. 

"You know what, this is good," Jihoon announced aloud. Jeonghan absentmindedly hummed at him to continue, all the while dropping his card on the pile at the table's center. "Let it all out, talk to each other. So much unresolved tension that's finally getting closure." He pointed to Soonyoung, eyebrows furrowed seriously. "It's about time you two made up."

"He's right," Vernon spoke up, putting his cards face down before him. "You guys… personally founded romance or something. You're our modern day Romeo and Juliet." He placed his hands on his chest, looking around the table for support as he continued. "I was honestly devastated when they broke up. Cause like if they can't work out, what hope do we have?" Chan nodded at this, pursing his lips in understanding. Wonwoo similarly mimicked this, lips downturned as he confirmed Vernon's words. "You need her. She needs you. You both need each other. It just doesn't make sense to have one without the other. You know what I'm saying?" 

"You two were made for each other!" Jihoon cried out passionately, slapping down a draw four and causing Jeonghan's jaw to slacken at his audacity. 

Soonyoung was flustered at all the attention on him, and was ever so grateful when the game returned to its original state before he had intervened. Beside him, Seokmin patted his back, as if knowing Soonyoung was riddled with conflicting thoughts and emotions. Though really it was pretty one dimensional where his stance had settled. 

He loved (y/n). He loved Chaerim. He loved them both. God, he wanted them both. But he's been far too greedy in his life. And at this point, he's willing to take whatever (y/n) was willing to offer him.

Soonyoung knocked on the door excitedly, biting back his smile as he heard Chaerim's familiar holler from within the apartment. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a smiling Jihyo donning a pink party hat. 

"Hey Soonyoung! Come on–" She stopped talking once she looked down and saw the gigantic box at his feet. It had barely even fit through the door and required both of them cooperating with one another to manage it through. "What the hell did you buy this little girl?" 

"Soonie!" Said little girl came barreling out of a room down the hall, hurdling herself into his arms at full velocity.

"Chaerim!" He yelled back, squeezing her in his arms and twirling her in the air. She erupted into giggles, face squished into his neck as her limbs clung to him desperately. "How's my favorite birthday girl?"

Before she could respond, a delighted gasp brought their attention to her, her eyes now entirely trained on the enormous box behind Jihyo.

"Is that mine?" She asked excitedly, squirming out of Soonyoung's grasp to rush over to the box. It was practically as big as her, and it had Soonyoung giggling to himself as well. Jihyo shook her head, staring at him in disbelief before turning back to Chaerim. 

"Yes, sweetie, Soonie got it for you. You can open it after we blow out your candles." She immediately came bounding back to Soonie, crouched to her height as she hugged the living daylights out of him. 

"Thank you, Soonie." He grinned, hugging her back happily. 

"Of course, sunshine." A few moments passed before (y/n) came strolling out of her room, just as lovely as she always was. Her eyes landed on Soonyoung, and he felt his heart skip multiple beats upon the sudden smile she had on her face. 

"Soonyoung, you came!" He stood up, Chaerim still held by his right arm as he accepted (y/n)'s hug with his left. He felt so full, heart overflowing with adoration and stomach twisting into happy little knots as he surrounded himself with his two favorite girls. Jihyo stood on the sidelines, a contented pout on her face as she watched the scene before her. 

Still wrapped in Soonyoung's hold, (y/n) glanced over to Jihyo. 

"Any news on Seokmin?" 

"Stuck at work," Jihyo regretfully informed, glancing down at her phone as if checking to see if Seokmin had miraculously escaped the clutches of his day job. "But he did invite some of the other guys, so they should be showing up throughout the day."

"Oh, that'll be chaotic," (y/n) snickered, laying her head on Soonyoung's chest in thought. He had no quarrels with this, in a permanent blissed out state as he rocked them all back and forth, lost in his own world. "Should we just have her blow out her candles now so she can play with her toys throughout the day?" (y/n) continued talking as Chaerim had yelled out her agreeance excitedly. "That way she'll have time to play with some toys, and then when one of the boys comes, she can play with the next toy?"

"That sounds like a plan." Jihyo nodded, already in motion as she began setting up the cake.

Soonyoung handled the birthday girl as (y/n) and Chaerim scurried about, delicately placing some candles on the cake, to which Chaerim indignantly commanded there to be more. Once there were about 20 candles scattered across her princess themed cake, Soonyoung placed her down on a barstool placed at the middle island, making his way across the counter to where (y/n) stood. Jihyo sat beside the little girl, slowly lighting up the candles for the ceremony until (y/n) took a sharp intake of breath, turning to face Soonyoung with a shocked expression on her face.

Before he could reciprocate her panic, however, she had already begun fleeing from the kitchen. 

"I forgot the camera!" Her voice faded in the distance as she grew further away, leaving the three of them in the kitchen. Soonyoung averted his gaze from where (y/n) ran off to Chaerim, precariously eyeing her cake with a mischievous glint in her eyes. It brought a smile to his face, watching the few lit candles flicker in the reflection of her dark eyes. 

"You should blow out the candles before wax gets on the cake," Soonyoung suggested, catching Chaerim's eye as she began smiling with him. Before Jihyo could put out the few candles, Chaerim beat her to it, puffing out her cheeks and blowing out the tiny flames in one big breath. Victoriously, she threw her hands up in the air. 

"Yay! I'm turning five!" She hollered aloud, bringing a chuckle out of Jihyo beside her. 

"No, sweetie, you are five. You only say turning when you're going to be that age very soon. Yesterday, you were turning five. Today, you are five. Understand?" 

"No." 

"Okay, well–" Jihyo was cut off by the sudden presence of Soonyoung's hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention over to the suddenly very shaken man. His eyes were shaky, attempting to focus on Jihyo, but struggling to maintain what little restraint he had left in him. 

"She's five?" He asked, voice coming out in a wavering manner through his unsteady breathing. Jihyo looked at him confused for a moment, incredulous at his inquiry, though as quickly as she mentally questioned him, realization had hit her. Realization that Soonyoung had put the puzzle together. 

"Soonyoung–" She started, her tone of voice full of remorse, though she couldn't get much else out as he all but bolted out of the kitchen and down the hall, barging into (y/n)'s room unceremoniously. His head whipped about momentarily until his eyes landed on her emerging from her closet, digital camera in hand. 

"Oh, I found the camera, it's alright–" (y/n) yelped as Soonyoung's hands clamped down on her shoulders, the force of his hold startling her for a second, though not harming her in any manner. As if his only intention was to keep her where she stood. 

"(y/n)," he began, faltering in his speech. She grew concerned for him, hands instinctively reaching up to hold onto his bicep, squeezing him back reassuringly. The motion, at any other moment in time would've called him down. Though right now, it did nothing but remind him of who stood before him. "(y/n), I've asked Jihyo. I've asked Seokmin. I haven't asked you. So I'm only going to ask this once." At this point, (y/n) was slowly understanding the situation at hand, and she could do nothing but quiver at the raw emotion in his eyes. The blaze of unbridled despondency seeping into his dark, lonely gaze. His lips quivered as he took in another breath, nerves shaking with him and almost sending his body into a similar state. "Is Chaerim my daughter?" 

Her mouth had fallen open, and then it closed, and opened again, though no sound came out. Her eyes darted about the room, from the door leading to the hallway, to her bedside table, to the closet behind her. Anywhere but Soonyoung, who couldn't tear his gaze away from her for even a moment, trained on her every minute action, relying on his years of being fluent in (y/n) to lead him to his answer. 

She was scared, that much was obvious. She was attempting to school her expression, a twitch on her lip trying to incite a casual smile to brush him off. A light, humorous scoff being the first sound to leave her lips, and she finally focused her eyes on his mouth. 

"What are you talking about?" She asked, a joking air to her words, a tone that could have potentially fooled others, but Soonyoung could detect the lack of sincerity in her actions. Her fingers twitched where they rested on his arm, squeezing him to calm herself as she continued. "Jihyo and Seokmin have both told you no."

"They have," Soonyoung agreed, dragging (y/n) closer, so close that he was sure she could hear the way his heart beat so violently against his chest, just as terrified of the results of this interrogation as she was. "But you haven't."

That faux curl of her lips had crumbled, bottom lip trembling as her eyes began to well with tears, her body similarly quaking under his touch. Her breathing had picked up, chest rising and falling to an almost concerning rate that Soonyoung had to reposition them, one hand falling down to her back and the other brushing away the strands of hair in her face. She whimpered at the sudden proximity, attempting to curl in on herself and away from Soonyoung's prying eyes. 

"(y/n)," he quietly called out to her, voice now hushed, lowly soothing her as best he could. Her hands had retracted to her chest, fiddling with the material of his shirt as he drew her closer to him, shushing her when silent tears had begun slipping out. At this point, he had his answer. He just needed (y/n) to come to terms with it as well. So he patiently held her, face buried in her hair as he swayed them side to side, rocking her until he felt her breathing even out. 

When he retracted his head to look down at her, he saw her terror filled eyes, widened and focused on the whitewashed wall of her bedroom. Gently, his finger trailed down to her chin, bringing her face to him as he pressed his forehead against hers, noses brushing past one another. When she met his resolute gaze, his eyes like the calm of a dark sea, her panic slowly but surely subsided, his staunch resolve seeping into her own eyes. 

Finally, in the steadiest manner he could muster, Soonyoung breathed out the question once more. 

"Is she my daughter?" A silence settled between the two, (y/n) slowly becoming lost as he stared into her soul, as if he were weaving his way back into her life, tangling the strings she had worked tirelessly to rid herself of, yet she couldn't find it in her to feel repulsed by his invasion at all. Instead, relief momentarily flooded her being. That peaceful understanding and comfort she had always felt in his arms reminding her of who he was. Her defenses had crumbled, and her mouth had fallen agape once more, voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper as she answered him. 

"Yes." 

His first reaction was to laugh. This disbelieving chuckle as he slowly pulled away from her, eyes immediately watering once more. His hands flew to his hair, yanking at the strands as a smile overtook his features. He was ecstatic. He had a daughter. A beautiful, lovely daughter outside waiting for his return. He had a daughter with the girl he promised himself he would one day start a family with. 

(y/n) had slapped a hand over her mouth as Soonyoung separated from her, a loud sob threatening to leave her. At some point, she lost the strength in her legs and collapsed on the edge of her bed, crying into her hand as Soonyoung considered the newfound information. 

He was beyond happy to have Chaerim, though he sat there processing the weight of such a discovery. He had fallen to the ground soon after, on his knees as tears streamed down his face. 

"I have a daughter," he spoke aloud, hands gripping at the carpeting beneath him. "I have a daughter." He crawled over to (y/n), hands shooting up to her face as his thumbs brushed over the tears in her eyes. "(y/n), we have a daughter!" His hands went everywhere, brushing back her hair, smoothing out her shirt, running over the goosebumps on her arms. "We have a daughter…" His head rested on her thighs in between where her hands rested on her lap. "Why am I only just finding out on her fifth birthday? Why have you all been lying to me?"

He sat up again, staring at (y/n), awaiting any sort of response, but she sat there sniffling, quietly sobbing to herself. He didn't know for how long he stared at her before she finally spoke, voice broken and defeated. 

"You left me…" She couldn't meet his gaze, staring down at where he had scooped her hands into his own. The sight brought another wave of sadness through her, having to bite back the fresh tears wanting to be shed. "You left me. I begged you to give me a chance. Give us a chance. And you left me." His thumbs brushed over her wrists, encouraging her to keep talking. "Not only that, but you stopped talking to all of us. I know you felt bad about leaving in the first place. I know you thought it'd be better to just disappear from our lives than make us deal with long distance and time difference, but it was still painful, Soonyoung." He shut his eyes, laying his head back into her lap where she began absentmindedly fiddling with the messy strands of his hair. "And then I found out I was pregnant and… I was terrified. I just…" She stopped, clearing her throat from the dejection riddling her voice. "You chose to follow your dreams. That didn't include Chaerim and I. I didn't want to drag you back into this life you didn't want." 

"Baby, no," he whined, sitting back on his heels and tugging (y/n) down from her bed and onto the floor with him, cradling her weakened body in his arms. "You both are my dream. You're my fantasy. You're the only thing I've ever wanted in life." He pressed his lips wherever he could reach, mumbling between each and every kiss. "I never meant to make you think otherwise. I just wanted you to be happy."

"You make me happy, idiot," she countered, the loudest thing she's said in the past few minutes, startling Soonyoung for a moment. "And I didn't want to tell you this month because… you have that job offer, and Chaerim and I will only be a burden to you."

"(y/n), I couldn't care less about that damn job offer." She pulled away from his shoulder, meeting his unexpectedly passionate gaze, brows furrowed and ever so determined. He squeezed her tighter in his arms. "I have a family right here. Do you understand how…thrilled I am?" Another tear slipped from his eye, though this one was paired with a genuinely warm and blithe grin, a sight that brought a smile of her own to (y/n)'s face, giggling as he pressed his forehead against hers again. "I was already happy to have reunited with you, and to have met Chaerim, but now…" He chuckled, biting his lip a second after to mute the bubbly feeling in his chest. "Now she's my daughter. She's mine." 

His eyes were so incredibly mirthful, shining with unshed tears and unadulterated glee. She couldn't help but to smile at his happiness, pressing her hands against his cheeks and rubbing her nose against his own. The way he hugged her, fingers gripping her as if an extra measure to keep her close to him, reminded them of their youth. Their youth and the love they once held for each other. Their love that hadn't faded. Their love that persisted through time, distance, and every hurdle life has thrown their way. 

"But your degree–" She started, but Soonyoung cut her off immediately. 

"To hell with my degree, (y/n)! Holy shit, I'm a father!" He buried himself into her hair, drawing her even closer to his chest, holding her so closely to where her ear pressed against his torso, right over where his heart beat so rapidly within him. Though hesitant, she wrapped her arms around his body, hugging him back. Giggles and tears and happy sighs left them both, wandering hands squeezing any part of their person they could grab, wanting so much of the other that it almost didn't make sense. "I'm staying."

"What?"

"I'm staying." She pulled away to meet his gaze, so sure and earnest as he nodded at her confused eyes. "I can't leave you again. I physically can't. Even if you don't accept me as your lover anymore, I can't bear to be so far away from you again." Her heart fluttered at his confession, going speechless once more, allowing him to continue on. "Plus, I have Chaerim now. I need to be here for her. I have to make up for lost time." 

"Y-you're staying?" It was the only thing her overwhelmed brain could come up with, not even able to process the heart fluttering and adoring gaze Soonyoung looked at her with.

"I'm staying. I couldn't care less about a job offer or my degree or anything else. None of it matters. I just need you and Chaerim. And I can't believe it took me 6 years to realize this."

Immediately, another sob broke out, and even more tears spilled from her eyes. Tears that Soonyoung swiped away as quickly as they appeared, giggling at her with such loving eyes. Though as she quieted down and he had a moment to his thoughts, he swallowed down the lump in his throat and shut his eyes. 

"I love you, (y/n). So much. So, so fucking much... I'm so sorry for what I've made you go through. I should've been here this entire time. I shouldn't have given up on us. I'm so sorry." He could've said more, but she shook her head at him, cradling his face again, encouraging him to open his eyes and meet hers. 

"I forgive you, Soonyoung." He blinked at her words, eyes darting between her own as if looking for any falsitude in her statement. 

"You do?" He asked. She nodded at him. 

"Just please don't leave me again." 

"I'd never dream of it." 

Her eyes shone with such fondness, grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she stroked back Soonyoung's hair, properly admiring his grown features for the first time since he came back. Something she hadn't granted herself the privilege of doing so before, for fear of falling in love and being abandoned again. Though now she was sure, with that devoted glimmer in his eye and that dumb in love smile stretched on his face, that he truly was staying this time around. 

That's what motivated her to lean forward and press a chaste, yet affectionate kiss to his lips, separating before he could respond to it.

"I love you, too, Soonyoung." A short bout of silence fell between the two, Soonyoung staring at her blankly as she giggled and continued to play with his hair. Though soon enough, he came to his senses, hand cupping her cheek and drawing her into him again for another kiss. A better kiss. One that he poured his entire heart and soul into. One that he hoped conveyed what his words couldn't. How regretful he is. How relieved he is. How absolutely in love he is.

His hand stroked over her face, fingers slipping into her hair as he brought her even closer to him, arm tightening around her waist and pressing her against him. The only thing that stopped their kiss was their smiling, laughs that bubbled out of them both. She continued littering kisses onto him, even more giggles slipping from his mouth. Delighted laughs that filled the room and her heart. He had felt so at ease and so loved that he almost hadn't acknowledged the faint knock at the doorway, the ajar door slowly rolling wider to reveal Chaerim peeking in. 

"Mommy, Aunt Jihyo is asking if you guys are okay." It was the first time Soonyoung was seeing Chaerim since the revelation, but he couldn't have felt happier seeing the girl than right now. Looking at her before him right at this moment felt so obvious. He couldn't believe he even doubted himself. He couldn't believe he went along with Jihyo and Seokmin's words. He couldn't believe he didn't immediately know for a fact that she was his own flesh and blood. 

"Yes, baby, we're okay," (y/n) responded, laying her head against Soonyoung happily. 

Chaerim stood there for a moment more, twiddling with the stray lace of her princess gown as she looked between the two. 

"Does he know the secret?" His heart twisted at her words, looking over to (y/n) with an unreadable expression. A short breath of air expelled from her nose as she nodded. 

"Yes." 

At her mother's words, Chaerim came walking over to him. For the first time since he ever even met her, this was the first sign of hesitance she'd ever displayed—the momentary stingray panic aside. Once she stood in front of him, she extended her hand out, just as she had done when they first met. 

"Hi daddy, my name is Chaerim. I'm 5 years old. My favorite color is yellow. I love you." He felt his heart shatter and rebuild from her words alone, perhaps more than once, because how else could he have reacted to such a sweet and rehearsed statement, as if she had prepared her whole life for this very moment. His lip quivered, something (y/n) didn't miss as she slipped away from his lap, hand softly rubbing his back encouragingly. He cleared his throat and wrapped his hand around her offered one, smiling whilst attempting to mask the sheen of tears coating his eyes. 

"Hi sunshine, it's nice to meet you. I'm your dad." After the quaint handshake, she slowly opened her arms out to him. And the minute he brought her into his arms was the moment every last ounce of his tears spilled, whatever was left from his moment with (y/n) now being used as he hugged his daughter knowingly for the first time. (y/n) sat on the sidelines, though only for a minute before Soonyoung was dragging her into the hug with them, the two girls patting his back soothingly as he wept aloud.

Though he wasn't alone, Jihyo crying as well as she texted Seokmin the details, watching the scene from the safety of the doorway. 

Seungcheol was the first of the boys to arrive, just in time to come across the disaster which had transpired before his arrival.

Chaerim had opened her largest gift, the one given to her by her dad. And to (y/n)'s dismay, it was a large and elaborate tunnel system. Although it was soft and foldable, it was still something she couldn't believe Soonyoung would even consider buying considering the state of their apartment. But Chaerim was happy, crawling through the tubed labyrinth, giggles reverberating off the walls. 

Though the mayhem Seungcheol walked in on was mere moments after Soonyoung wanted to try out his gift as well, and now found himself stuck in one of the tubes. Jihyo and (y/n) attempted to yank him out from the outside, while Chaerim continued her incessant giggling, giving up on pushing Soonyoung from within and was now peppering tiny kisses all over his face. 

Luckily, Seungcheol was the one to free the man out of the tunnel, much to the child's dismay, until he handed her his gift: an easel set with a large notepad for a canvas.

She doodled away as the three of them explained the events that had occurred that day, Seungcheol at first shocked at it all, though nodding in understanding soon after. 

"It makes much more sense than Jihoon's assumption that you went out and found a Soonyoung doppelganger, because that girl is a carbon copy of Soonyoung, I swear." 

Jeonghan wasn't surprised in the slightest once he had arrived, only shocked that it took Soonyoung this long to realize that the lactose intolerant little girl with sharp eyes and round cheeks wasn't his child. 

Joshua, Junhui, and Wonwoo only congratulated the two, Jihoon still defending his doppelganger story, saying it could have been true.

Minghao and Mingyu also similarly did not show much reaction to it, somehow far more preoccupied with the little girl playing with them.

Vernon, Seungkwan, and Chan were perhaps the most interested in the circumstances, questioning how she had kept it a secret from them for so long, how they hadn't figured it out on their own, what she was going to do with Soonyoung now. 

"I guess I'll give him a second chance," she responded, hugging his arm and laying her head on his shoulder. Their hands intertwined, and Soonyoung smiled at the familiar warmth that emanated from her touch, seeping into his skin and sending waves of content satisfaction through him. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and a blush settled over his cheeks, reminding him that that schoolboy crush he had on (y/n) never left, nor would it ever. 

Seokmin had arrived later on, immediately coming over to congratulate the two, as well as quietly apologize to Soonyoung for hiding his daughter from him. 

"You have to understand, man, I meant no harm. We didn't know your intentions. We needed to protect them, you know?" He muttered quietly, looking around the room as if he were dealing with classified information. "I didn't even know until Jihyo was legit scolding me for bringing you over. You gotta believe me, dude."

"I understand, man, I understand," Soonyoung replied, wrapping an arm around Seokmin and mimicking his overly suspicious mannerisms. Though with the secret out and about, he had to admit that he felt significantly closer to his former best friend, glad to know that his daughter has such an amazing godfather. 

The party soon ended and the boys all flooded out of the apartment. Jihyo was the last to leave after helping (y/n) put Chaerim to sleep. 

"Goodnight, you two!" She waved at the two lovers as she shut the door behind her. Soonyoung had also planned to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome, but (y/n) continued to hold him in a tight hug, refusing to let go. 

"Stay," she insisted. Soonyoung would have laughed at her clinginess, though he heard the hint of fear in her voice, and he immediately understood the clinginess. 

"Okay, baby, I'll stay." Guilt riddled his body the entire way to bed. He had to keep reassuring her he wasn't going anywhere, keeping a hand on her at all times.

He washed her hair for her, letting her hug him while the warm water of the shower fell down their bodies. He helped her get changed, whispering sweet nothings to her the entire process. He held her hand as they got into bed, and once settled, she had immediately clung to him again, limbs tangling together as she buried her face into his shirt. And Soonyoung could only softly shush her, assure her that he's not going anywhere.

His hands combed through her hair, littering kisses on her forehead, muttering his love for her through soft whispers. Seeing the state she was in had a pit of lament settling at the base of his stomach, grimacing at his past misdeeds, remembering the cruel way he left her with nothing more than a final forlorn kiss. 

"I'm sorry," he spoke, hands momentarily stilling in her locks. "I'm so sorry, (y/n). I could apologize every second of every day for the rest of our lives, but it would never amount to how apologetic I truly feel. How much I regret leaving you." He pressed another reassuring kiss on her skin, a shaky intake of air once he separated from her. "I regret it so much. I regret ever doubting our love and I'll never forgive myself for that." He felt her hand splay out on his chest, right over his heart. "(y/n), you're the only thing I live for. You're the only thing in my life that matters." He paused, quickly reconsidering his words before stuttering out his correction. "You and Chaerim, I mean, but…"

He stopped talking as she laughed softly at his words, pulling away from him so she could actually study his face. He was speechless for a second, reminded of a few days ago during their phone call. How he had wished for this exact moment to come to fruition. To hold her in his arms once more, feel her falling asleep in his hold, watch that peaceful state of hers he could only see at night. When she'd enter deep sleep, the tension of the day washing away, her strong persona, her brave facade, all of those pretenses she put up for the world disappearing. And he was the only person she trusted in such a vulnerable state—and he left her. 

"I'm just… I left you. I was so lost and I thought I could find myself. I thought you didn't deserve someone as lost as I was. It just seemed easier to give you up so you wouldn't have to waste your life with a loser like me… I'm sorry." 

Her eyes twinkled under the moonlight, watching Soonyoung as he fumbled over incessant apologies.

When he had gone silent, she shuffled closer to him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose. She smiled when it scrunched, and then she pressed a kiss to his cheek. His jaw. His chin. The corner of his mouth. And then finally a kiss to his lips. A sweet, affectionate kiss. Short and simple, but still enough to leave Soonyoung flustered and motionless. 

"Soonyoung, love, I forgive you."

"I know you say that, but… I just feel like it's not enough. It doesn't make up for what I've done to you. I don't–" Another kiss, though this time, one that Soonyoung reciprocates just as fondly as her. 

"You've already apologized to me countless times." At the sight of his confused face, she grinned. "The first day, when Seokmin brought you to me." Soonyoung nodded at this, though he felt he was too emotional to properly convey his feelings. Plus, he mostly made her cry, so it didn't feel like a valid apology to him. "The night you boys went out drinking." 

"What?" Soonyoung furrowed his brows at this, making (y/n) smile. She brushed back his hair comfortingly, nodding her head in confirmation. 

"2 AM, you called me. Drunk out of your mind, crying and babbling to the point that I could barely understand you." Soonyoung winced at this, quietly groaning to himself as he remembered the night at the bar and how fragmented his memory was. "I laid there listening to you pour out your heart to me." He peeked over from where he wallowed in his own self pity, seeing the tenderness in her expression as she admired him wholeheartedly. "You told me about how much you regretted leaving me. How much it hurt you to leave me behind. The pain you endured throughout those 6 years away. You apologized so much that I had to beg you to calm down." At this, he hid himself again, this time burying his face into his pillow with a loud groan. "And then you said you love me." He felt her fingers tracing images on his arm; circles and stars and hearts. "You said you never stopped loving me. That I was the love of your life, and you'd forever mourn losing me. You probably said I love you just as many times as you apologized, until I myself was crying.

"And then you said… that even if Chaerim wasn't yours, you'd love her as if she were." He peeked out from his pillow to where a bittersweet smile greeted him. "That you love her like you love me. And you wished you had a family like ours. You said we were your happiness. Your dream life that you had always wanted." He pouts at this, realizing his drunk self was probably more articulate than he could ever be when sober. She lifted the arm she had drawn invisible patterns into, nestling herself against him before resting his limb over her.

"And the third time was as I was falling asleep." She had rested her head on his heart again, humming at the soothing rhythm it emanated. "I thought I was dreaming. Hearing the love of my life say such sweet words to me. Such a blissful moment." She sighed dreamily, squeezing his waist in a small hug. "I only realized it was real when I heard my phone beep, indicating you hung up." 

"I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean to wake you," he fussed, but she only shushed him. 

"No more apologies." Another kiss to his lips had him going silent, nodding along to her words. With another laugh his way, she curled up against him once more, cozying up in the warmth of her soulmate for the first time in six years. "So yes, I forgive you. I really do." 

"Thank you, (y/n)." She pressed one last kiss on his chest, one right above his heart. Like magic, he felt the wounds which have tormented him for years to come slowly but surely heal, tending to itself as she nurtured his love once more. A sigh of relief puffed out of his lips, one tear slipping from his eye as he savored the exhilarating serenity of the moment. Of being with his beloved again. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

(a/n): welcome to the end of this. if you made it, congratulations! thank you for reading my stuff! i appreciate it greatly! i didn't expect for this to be as big as it wound up being. as of right now, it is the longest fic i have published. im happy with how it came out though. hopefully i have more stories planned for the future! thanks for reading!

[herejusttosufferalong]

Alrighty everyone...

Just wanted to make a post regarding the events of the day before I start diving into answering asks/DMs.

I have seen the pic and it is my belief that it is Luke. You can clearly tell that is his phone even though many are reporting it to be an Android. The phone case matches the one he had throughout many pics on the press tour.

Yes, his face looks puffier, the ear does seem off and his hair is does not look curly in the pic.

HOWEVER, it is very pixelated and grainy so things are bound to look a little distorted but I'm 99.9% sure that is him in the photo.

The girl next to L could be A and I'm inclined to believe that it is just from a rational standpoint.

From what you can see the body type and height is a close match to A. Although the hair is way too long and her forehead does not quite match up. Make of that what you will.

I will also note that although L looks like he is on the 3rd day of a seven day binge, he does look happy and I love that for him.

Hopeful for good things to come 💜

NOW

On to why I'm fucking pissed....

Who the fuck is harassing Jack Murphy????

This man owes the fans fuck all and yet he provides content regularly.

The amount of childish and abusive behavior I have witnessed over the past 3 years within the fandom aimed at the actors, crew and production team is so vile and grotesque.

I am so ashamed and that doesn't even begin to really cover it.

This shit has got to stop and if y'all are seeing it take place, call it out and put an end to it.

At the end of the day this is a piece of media art that we get to enjoy and consume off the hard work of others. You are entitled to nothing from them and they do not work and create just to please you.

If you have a problem with that shut the fuck up and move on and know you will not be missed.

[cj-schlatt]

Rewind

Pairing: Schlatt x gn!reader (no pronouns, no use of y/n)

Word Count: ~780

Summary: What do you get as a gift for someone who has it all?

Content: Fluff, pet names (angel). Schlatt and reader are childhood best friends who recently reconnected :)

A/N: Hi! This is my first attempt at writing for Schlatt. Let me know how I did! :)

You’ve been stressing ever since you flipped the calendar page over this morning. Your first anniversary with Schlatt is this month, the date marked with a heart, and you have no idea what you’re going to get him.

What do you get as a gift for someone who has it all?

You’re in your parents’ attic, helping them to clean it up a bit, when you find the answer to your dilemma.

You come across an unmarked cardboard box, which by itself isn’t unusual; you’ve already sorted through a dozen just like it. What makes it special is what you find inside—it’s filled with VHS-C tapes from your family’s old camcorder. You’ve just stumbled upon a treasure trove of memories.

You know for a fact that there is footage of Schlatt within these tapes, from birthday celebrations to stupid “movies” the two of you made together. As you pick up a tape, labeled with both of your names and the date it was captured, you start to form a plan.

Your childhood bedroom is exactly as you left it when you moved out, down to the old CRT TV and combination VHS and DVD player. After some quick Googling, you’re turning on the TV and popping the first tape, along with a blank DVD, into the player.

Static. Then, a picture comes into view: a grainy scene of a much younger version of you in front of a birthday cake, Schlatt right at your side as he and the rest of the party-goers sing “Happy Birthday” and you blow out the candles. You can’t help but smile at the display.

The video continues, showing you tearing into your birthday presents (with Schlatt right there to help you, of course). You’re transported back to that day, long forgotten until now, where you almost had more fun playing with the wrapping paper and tissue paper than the actual presents you received.

Soon, the first tape ends. If all went well, it should be copied onto the DVD now. You stay up well into the night converting tapes, too excited revisiting old memories to want to continue later.

The next day, phase two of your plan begins, with you uploading the new DVDs to your computer and putting your video editing skills to the test. You’re grinning like an idiot when it’s finally done.

You just hope Schlatt will like it.

You’re pretty sure he will.

It’s a few weeks later when the big day finally arrives. You can’t even count how many times you’ve had to hold yourself back from giving him his gift early, so excited to see his reaction.

You’re practically vibrating when you lead him to the living room and turn the TV on.

“What’s all this about?” he asks, plopping down on the couch.

“You’ll see,” you say, smiling as you connect your laptop to the TV.

You watch with him as little you and Schlatt are projected onto the big screen. You join him on the couch, listening to your younger self introduce your imagined audience to what the two of you creatively titled “The Dumb Idiots Show.”

You glance over at Schlatt, who is completely glued to the TV. You think you see that his eyes are glistening a little, reflecting the light of the screen, but you don’t say anything, just let the video continue.

The video came out pretty damn good, if you do say so yourself. It had been so much fun reliving these memories, and it’s even better now that you get to share them with your best friend, the one who was with you for all of it.

Eventually, the screen fades to black, and the room falls silent.

“Wow,” is the first thing Schlatt says. He leans back into the couch, running a hand through his hair.

“Did you like it?” you ask, not quite able to keep the nervousness out of your voice.

“Are you kidding?” he asks, voice tinged with disbelief. “I loved it.”

“Really?”

“Really, angel,” he says, pulling you in for a hug.

You sink into the embrace, relief flooding through you.

“I’m impressed,” he says when you part.

“Hmm?”

“Looks like I’m not the only one with video-making skills around here.”

You grin at him. “I mean, did you see my camera work on episode two of ‘The Dumb Idiots Show?’ I’ve always had a knack for it.”

He laughs. “You oughta start your own channel.”

“Maybe I will,” you say with a little smirk. After a moment, your face softens. “Happy anniversary, J.”

“Happy anniversary,” he echoes, a lovesick smile on his own face as he leans in to kiss you.

A/N: Thanks for reading! :)

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Twelve - The Holiday Season Begins

W/C: 8.7K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

"I've got my eye on you."

Say Yes To Heaven - L.D.R

A/N: Wow I think this is the longest I've gone without posting a chapter. I really hope you guys enjoy this one. I wrote it in bits and pieces and read it over several times. I would really really really love to know what you think, this one is so special and personal to me.

Masterlist

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Sugary apple goo.

You think back to Thanksgiving back home, a ruckus constant in the kitchen as dinner is prepared, more than enough food to feed an entire village.  Pots and pans clank together, trays create an echo as they are not-so-carefully placed atop the counter.  Dinner rolls are burned but still enjoyed with warm cinnamon butter.  The potatoes are a touch too lumpy but still desirable with notes of rosemary and an ungodly amount of garlic.  Various smells, both sweet and savory flood the house, your poor, stressed out mother churning out dish after dish, siblings all engaged in some kind of ball game out in the street just after watching the Thanksgiving Day parade.  

You tend to the green bean casserole, an easy dish that you couldn’t screw up even with your limited attention span.  Cream of Mushroom soup from a can seemed so repulsive in itself although it brought the whole dish together.  It didn’t matter that seconds prior it slumped against the green beans still in the shape of the can, nearly gelatinous.  Once stirred in and baked with crispy onions layered over the top, it was a masterpiece.  A five star dish in your book.

It would only be a matter of time before grandma showed up with her famously delicious apple pie, the crust coated in extra amounts of grainy sugar, the dish still piping hot.  And the “sugary apple goo” as you used to call it at the age of three already had your mouth watering just thinking about it, crispy apples so fresh and topped with syrupy caramelized sauce topped off with cinnamon and nutmeg, all wrapped up in a flaky, buttery crust.  

You sigh, piling the apple mixture on top of the homemade graham cracker crust.  It wasn’t clear to you just how lonely Thanksgiving morning would be without anyone around.  Sure, you had Donnie’s to look forward to this evening but until then, you were on your own, the parade quietly playing on the TV though you hadn’t been very impressed with the floats this year.  Holiday depression was kicking in, a kind you hadn’t experienced yet.  They were usually always a happy time, family surrounding you and distracting you from the lonesome thoughts you usually had.  This year it started feeling more like a ton of bricks was sitting on your chest, no one able to aid in providing you with some kind of task such as the honor of making the green bean casserole to ease the pressure.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t just make the controversially delicious dish, you had everything stashed in the pantry.  It just didn’t feel right.  It went unnoticed by you that tears were slowly sliding down your cheeks until a fat one landed on your wrist as you finished spooning the apple filling.  

Again?

In that moment you swear you looked the most pitiful you had ever looked in your entire life, tears trailing down your face silently, all alone, homesick.  You should be in your pajamas playing some kind of a board game on the coffee table in the living room, surrounded by your siblings.  Not throwing yourself a pity party while spreading apple goo.  To top it off, your hands had gotten completely covered, the sauce making your fingers undesirably sticky.  You hadn’t quite reached the point of sobs yet though you suppose if you let the goo linger on your hands any longer you would.

Some comforting folk music your grandpa used to play religiously rang through the house though you felt no such comfort.  Not as much as you’d hoped anyway.  It brought a familiar sense of his essence to you, his passing three years ago not settling right in your heart.  It only made you more homesick.

But you weren’t going to let yourself soak in salty tears and sticky apples.  No, you washed your hands in soothing warm water, the sludge sliding right off and into the metal of the sink, eyes puffy and red but void of tears for the time being.  You’d sucked them back and changed the music to something more upbeat, some Elvis that your grandpa had also engrained deeply into your brain though you hoped the faster tempo would brighten your spirits and ignite the happy memories.

Only, it landed you on the couch in a whole new sea of sobs this time as Unchained Melody lingered in the lonely room.  There was no getting a grip on the gut-wrenching, stomach-aching isolation you were feeling, sanity was long gone.  You were supposed to be trimming the dough that was meant to create the criss cross pattern for the pie, you were supposed to be enjoying your glass of wine as you sang under your breath to familiar tunes, you were supposed to be okay.  

It was you, after all, who had made the decision to move, right?  It was you who picked up your entire life and plopped it right in the middle of some unknown mountain town in search of yourself.  You feared that you were just losing yourself instead, forgetting just after a few months what it felt like to be surrounded by loved ones, forgetting how it felt to come home to a full house after a grueling shift at the local Denny’s.  You smelled of burnt coffee and dry eggs, your hair greasier than the literal grease trap, but none of that mattered the second you stepped into the coziness of the living room, all family dysfunction left at the door.

The tears wouldn’t stop though you still managed to force yourself off of the couch, wiping snot away with the back of your hand as you stared at the messy kitchen in despair.  Everything suddenly seemed so…impossible.  How were you meant to do anything while simultaneously questioning your entire existence, your entire meaning of life?

You had been in such disarray that cleaning up as you went didn’t even seem close to an option, nearly every pot and pan either set on top of the stove or thrown in the sink, whisks and spatulas scattered among the mess, and apple skins littering the floor.  Now you were taking in the aftermath, not even having the finished product to show as an excuse for the complete disaster, even the dough still rolled out on the cutting board.  You had hours left to prepare though it felt like seconds ticking by to inevitable disappointment.  

The end of the world felt like it weighed down on your shoulders yet you did what you did best each time.  You set it aside and pressed on.  It was never simple, weak hands grasping the dull knife, slicing through the dough to create uniform strips.  Motivation was running dry, the desire to grace everyone with the most delicious apple pie they’d ever tasted was out the window, you could only do what your body allowed.

And like every other time you had to pull yourself out of the gutter.  Life began to bleed back into your eyes as your creation came back to life.  Puffiness still remained throughout your face, eyes still droopy but slowly your drive kicked back into gear.  Sniffles from previous snotty tears continued but nothing felt better than laying down the last layer of dough over the apple filling, a quest conquered.  

Finishing off your cheap red wine, you reward yourself by licking off the spoon you’d used for the filling.  The kitchen still required a good scrub down but you could live with the mess a little while longer as you indulged in the sweetness.  Something well deserved.  You didn’t even want to think about the nightmare that Christmas was about to become, decorating your tree with only the company of your dreaded thoughts.  That was a scenario you were not willing to wander into, at least not until it would actually happen.  There was no sense in making yourself live through it twice, your brain longing to torture you with irrational possibilities.

Elvis’s voice continues to carry through the living room, a second glass of wine being poured in hopes of easing your homesickness, attempting to neglect thoughts of what you would usually be doing right now.  It was barely working, only leaving you feeling slightly lazy with a good layer of sadness still looming over you like a storm cloud.  There was no extinguishing the sorrows you felt for familiarity and the comfort the holidays were supposed to bring you.

Sudden knocking sends you into a brief panic, unexpected guests were not in the cards for your lonesome morning that had only served to encourage your crybaby tendencies.  At the very least you got a pie out of it.

The knocking persists as you scramble up from your depressing divot on the couch, a certain urgency waving over you at the speed of the knocks.  They were rapid, quick pecks at the wood, a worrisome speed that usually constituted an emergency in the end.  

Why today, why now?

With a heavy sigh, you swing the door open, glass of half-finished wine in one hand while the other runs down your drained face.  You expect some kind of eviction notice; god knows why since you own the place.  Maybe the check hadn’t reached the mortgage company, maybe it had been intercepted in transit.  The last thing you expect on your doorstep is a wide-eyed Eddie cradling a large bowl in one arm.  His gray sweatpants swallow his legs and hang low on his hips, a sliver of his tummy on display in between his t-shirt and pants.

It’s conflicting.  Do you act concerned and start begging the questions:  Did something happen?  Who’s injured?  Or do you exhale in relief as a tiny smile tugs at the corners of his mouth even in his somewhat distressed state?  It can’t be that bad if he still finds it in himself to smile, right?

“I, uh, I need help.”  He says sheepishly.

Ever since the night of the hoedown, he’d been a new kind of shy with you.  You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t adore it because truth be told, big bad Eddie Munson who previously chewed you out for being so bashful was now getting a taste of his own medicine.  Except you had been much kinder than he initially was, though it was fun to tease him and force his face to turn a vibrant tomato red.  

“Help?”  You smirk, swirling your wine as if you were some kind of connoisseur.  “My, my, how the tables have turned.”

“Bambi.”  He groans, still maintaining focused eye contact with the wood planks of your porch.

“Eddie.”  

It’s said so softly, in a way that reduces him to a puddle, his knees could give out at any moment if you so much as looked at him a certain way which had been why he refused to catch your gaze.  He internally curses himself for automatically counting under his breath, unable to stop himself: one, two, three, one, two, three.

In an instant your face falls, he only ever counted when he was stressed from what you could gather.  It was a learning curve, navigating Eddie’s quirks.

“Hey.”  You soothe, gingerly grabbing his wrist with your free hand.  “Hey, what’s wrong?”  

His curls bounce with a shake of his head, his eyes fluttering shut.  The counting stops but he still comes across as fuzzy.  Disoriented.  

“Come inside.”  You whisper, gently tugging him through the door, your wine abandoned at the entry table in the process.  “It’s freezing out.”

Instinctually he hands you the bowl he’d been cradling close to his body with a wooden spoon sticking out.  Upon further inspection, a mountain of mashed potatoes-or should you say lumps of potatoes are piled up within the bowl.  The skins are still intact, way too many if he intended to make smooth and creamy potatoes.  They’d be much less than enjoyable in the state they were currently in.

“I fucked them up.”  He whispers.

The sight you’re met with is that of a small child in a grown man’s body, his large eyes pleading.  You’re forced to realize that today may very well be much worse for him than it is for you.  He’d warned you that he didn’t do holidays and here he was, a nervous wreck turning up on your doorstep in a panic with lumpy potatoes.  And suddenly you felt so selfish.

“That’s okay.”  You assure him, tracing a tender thumb over his bicep.  He looked so lost.  “Eddie, it’s okay.”  You repeat with a nod.

“I just, I was gonna buy something from the store, and then, I just thought–I dunno maybe I’d at least try.”  He tugs on his curls, a bit too harshly for your liking.  “I don’t know why I even tried.”  He sighs in defeat.

It’s enough to break your heart.

“Eddie.”  

Turmoil flashes in his eyes, stress apparent in the way his brows furrow and his frown lines grow deeper.  His lips are red, most likely bitten, and he can’t stop twisting one of his rings around his finger.  He looks to be as much of a wreck as you felt although the symptoms seem to be much more apparent in his appearance than yours.  Your slightly swollen eyes were nothing compared to his tousled curls, anxieties littered across his face and trembling hands unable to be subtly hidden without the crutch of sleeves.

“I, uh, I-I shouldn’t have bothered.”  He mutters, reaching for the door.

You intercept him, your hand wrapping around his elbow while you attempt to meet his eyes.  He freezes in his escape, your touch rendering him paralyzed, your fingers suddenly too determined in digging into the meat of his arm.  Not meanly.  Never meanly.  More concerned.  Concerned for the way he cowers away the second he’s offered any fraction of help.  Perhaps it’s hypocritical of you to regard him with such worry when you yourself present the same behaviors under the same circumstances and expect no such treatment.

Your expression offers a certain softness that he’s come across one too many times since you’d barged into his life and taken his heart hostage.  You’d never know you committed such a crime.  And he’d never outright tell you of the ache that sat deep in his chest that he had no clue how to satiate.  All he knew was that he could not jeopardize this.  If he could get through the holidays, if he could get to January and you were still around, then, and only then would he be convinced that he had finally lifted whatever fucked up, out-of-this-world curse that had haunted him all his life.

“It’s okay.”  Barely above a whisper, you assure him.

Eddie doesn’t remember making his way into your kitchen, he can’t recall your delicate hand pulling him along until you let go to discard his potato concoction onto the counter and he realizes he’s taken the warmth for granted in a haze of existential dread.  Like a lost puppy, he stares at your fingertips as they linger on the counter while you lean over to reach for an empty casserole dish.  The entirety of your kitchen cabinets had thrown up all over the counters, a reflection of the way his brain felt.  Scattered.  

“Potatoes are actually super complicated.”  

His ears perk up, unsure of how to conjure up a response.  Instead, he raises his eyebrows, fearful of how dumb he could make himself look with just a few syllables.  It wasn’t like him to care so deeply what others thought of him.

“That’s why I avoid them.  Instead–”  You turn around only to pull out a can of green beans and a can of cream of mushroom.  “-work smarter, not harder.”

Eddie knows he should be hanging onto every word you say and usually he would be, he knows.  Except he can’t help but tune into the melody of Blue Christmas that had been echoing off the kitchen walls from your record player across the room.

The damn record player.  And the records.

He didn’t realize how much the records still affected him.  He had his own collection now, sure.  But anything that resembled the essence of his Mama, lived safely and soundly on its dedicated shelf in his room, untouched.  It took him years to rebuild Mama’s collection.

“Sorry can we-”  He makes his way toward the record player, his face contorted nearly painfully before lifting the needle.  “I just-I can’t think.”

Your motions were paused, can opener halfway through the can of beans as your eyes meet him with questions splayed across your face.  You don’t ask them.  An understanding smile works its way across your lips and god, he doesn’t know why you’re so patient with him after he stepped into your house and suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to shut off your music.  As he strides back into the kitchen, a series of apologies haven't even left his mouth and yet-

“So…Green Bean Casserole.”  You state, fingers tapping against the tin of each can.  “And Sugary Apple Goo.”  A vague gesture toward the uncooked pie.  “Kind of a…weird duo.  Or it will be if I actually get it in the oven-”

“Sorry, what?”  

“Apple pie.  The apple pie.  At home we just call it sugary apple goo, don’t ask why it’s just–it’s just a thing we do.”  You clarify, shoving the dessert into the comforting warmth of the oven, shivering at the sensation as goosebumps begin to prick your skin.

“Apple goo.”  He repeats.  A raised brow disappearing beyond his messy bangs.

Eddie almost forgets the reason why he’d been in such disarray, almost forgets why he even bothered knocking on your door in the first place, only remembers the fact that he was in a panicked state.

“Yeah.”  You sigh.

You busy yourself with slopping the now drained green beans into a nearby glass bowl.  Your blotchy skin and puffy eyes catch in the stream of sunlight, the kitchen window betraying you as it showcases your true state.  Avoiding those large brown eyes is the best you can do, the theory that if you can’t see him he can’t see you dumbly being put to use no matter how aware you are that it makes no sense.  Maybe if you act “okay enough”, he’ll chalk it up to the common cold, placing the responsibility for your rudolph-like nose on the yearly infection.

What you fail to realize is that by this point, he’s become too familiar with your teary eyes and sad worry lines that only seemed prominent in your times of distress.  Times that he had regretfully been the cause of previously.  Words can’t escape his practically sewn-shut-mouth, all sounds dying long before forming on his tongue.  It’s impossible to create comfort when he himself has trouble doing so for himself.  How could he possibly offer such comfort to someone who deserved kinder words from someone of a higher regard?

“Here, dump this in and mix.”  You instruct, forcing a can of cream of mushroom and a wooden spoon in his hands, yanking him out of his mind.

There’s no room for protest, not that he even intended to.  Not when you’re standing there with the ghost of tear tracks down your cheeks.  Not when you’re this kind.  Not when you’re you.  

“Okay.”  He mutters, a disgusting sound filling his ears from the lumpy soup falling into the bowl.

“After that, pour it in here.”  You place a ceramic casserole dish to his right, the dish nearly too large to fit on the cluttered counter though you’re too occupied with tidying up other parts of the kitchen to bother.

“Got it.”

Eddie Munson absolutely hates Thanksgiving.  But he doesn’t mind it so much when you’re rustling around behind him, a silent conversation hanging in the air that neither of you are alone in your holiday sorrows, whatever they may be.

You don’t ask why he continues counting under his breath behind you or why his hands are shaking.

And he doesn’t ask why tears linger in your eyes or why you pause to regain your composure after dropping a pan a bit too loudly for your liking, your lip wobbling.

Because the collective understanding is that neither of you is okay.  And maybe that’s okay.

–

“Careful, the bottom is–”

“Shit!”

“-hot.”

A ringed hand waves around in an effort to rid it of the burning sensation caused by the bottom of the piping hot casserole dish.  Eddie releases a series of curses, the side of the dish pushed against his chest as he balances it between his body and his single arm protected by one of your generously donated dish rags.  Your wide eyes caution him in his balancing act, a perfectly crafted green bean casserole at risk due to his negligence as he had taken the liberty of knocking on the door.

“What the fuck, how can fuckin’ beans be so goddamn hot?”  Brown eyes nearly roll into the back of his head, his fingertips more than likely singed an angry red.

It’s no laughing matter, not according to the scowl that makes its way across his handsome features but you can’t stop the pull of your lips from forming a large grin, giggles caught in the back of your throat.  His irritation disappears just as quickly as it came, harsh edges blurring into softness at the sight of your puffed out cheeks, inflated due to the humor just dying to crawl out of your mouth.

“Oh, shut up.”  A nudge of his shoulder against yours has you shaking your head, laughter finally escaping your perfectly glossed lips.

He could write paragraphs about them if it didn’t seem so creepy and stalkerish.  So he allowed himself the tiniest of glances, only hoping to paint the full picture in his head ever since you’d quickly puckered your lips in front of your mirror at home to complete your finishing touches while he viewed from the porch where he waited in his black button up and nicest pair of jeans.  He’d never been so jealous over a tube of lipgloss.  In fact, he’d never in his life been jealous of a tube of lipgloss and he never felt like more of a loser than in that moment.

“I told you.”  You mutter, an endearing side eye delivered right into his line of sight.  It was something almost child-like, something innocent and not at all like what he’d ever really been on the receiving end of.  Maybe because there was a certain flirtiness you were hinting at although he was no expert and had no right to assume.

“I told you.”  He mumbles back with a higher pitch, mocking you.

You turn toward him, a comeback on the tip of your tongue when his own tongue interrupts with a taunt, peeking out between his lips swiftly, his nose scrunching up meanly before his full attention is back on the door as it creaks open.  And then, a quick wink that only you yourself were a witness to, only creating a stir in your brain as you decipher that no one else would be able to confirm the action.

“Hey!”  Donnie greets, arms flung up in excitement as she ushers you into her welcoming home, smells infiltrating your nose, sweet and savory galore.

Before either you or Eddie can even get a simple “hello” in, she’s talking your ear off, something about who all is already in the living room, how far along the turkey is, where the bathroom is, all while guiding you into the spacious dining room.  She must have set out her fine china, the gorgeous dishes set all around the table lined with champagne colored silver on the edges of the plates.  Two tables had been pushed together, creating enough space for the large number of guests expected.  In the center sat an exquisite arrangement of various orange-hued flowers and some greenery.  

The house was comforting; not too large and not too small, a two story dream that no doubt had acres of backyard.  The Christmas tree had already been set up and decorated, the branches and lights hinting at you from the other room where men roared with laughter, a football game blaring from the TV that contrasted with the familiar voice of Frank Sinatra coming from the stereo.  Combined turkey and Santa decorations adorned the interior everywhere you glanced, surfaces that would usually be empty year around were occupied with tacky little figurines that were more endearing than anything.  Plastic garland traced the rails of the stairs, littered in fake plastic cranberries, the front room being far more grand than your entire home as you inspected it through the archway of the dining room.

Suddenly your nerves were simmering down, a familiar feeling nestling into the bottom of your chest as your shoulders fell from their tensed position, your fingers letting up on their grip on the pie tin you clutched so desperately.  Women squealed from the kitchen, a series of “oh my god”s erupting into the rest of the house, some kind of juicy gossip initiating several gasps as well as some laughter.  Your homesickness began to lie dormant, warmth overtaking you as Donnie went on and on about her family members, which ones to avoid sitting next to at all costs and warning you of the aunties that would corner you and beg for details on your love life.

“Just pretend I’m calling you and run as fast as you can in the other direction.”  She advises.  “And if that doesn’t work, tell ‘em you had too much wine and that it’s making a reappearance.  They’ll scatter like flies.”

You laugh along, taking mental notes as she grabs the pie from you, complimenting the smell as she sets it among several other desserts, a whole table dedicated only to sweets.  When she goes to grab the green bean casserole from Eddie, you can’t help but pause and watch as his doe eyes trace his surroundings, a clearly unfamiliar environment to him.  There’s uncertainty dripping from his demeanor, his single finger tapping against the dish:  One, two, three.  One, two, three.  One, two, three.

“Green bean casserole-Eddie, do you know how many green bean casserole we’ve got?  Like you all read each other’s mind, I swear.”  Donnie jokes.

“It’s-um, it’s hot.”  He cautions her.

Sauntering toward the main table, Donnie proudly sets it on top of a place mat to protect the wood from the heat.  Eddie doesn’t budge, seemingly glued to the carpet, his hands still lingering in the air like he had still been holding the dish.

“You okay?”  You mouth to him, looking up into his worried eyes, only hoping to soothe the crease in between his eyebrows.

He nods though you suspect he’s being a bit dishonest.  

“Oh, c’mon Eddie!  You know I’m just pullin’ your leg.”  Donnie reassures, a heavy hand falling against his shoulder.  “Shoot, I have to go check on the oven.  Yell for me if you need anything, both of you, okay?”  

“Sure.”  You mumble.  “Thank you.”

“There’s a fully stocked bar right over there, help yourselves.”  She calls as she backs herself up toward the kitchen.  “But don’t go too crazy.”  She sends a knowing glance, recalling both of your tendencies to take on more than you can handle.

“Why don’t we get some air?”  You suggest, unable to comprehend exactly just what was happening in Eddie’s mind although you knew enough to understand that he was miles outside of his comfort zone.

“No, no.  I’m good.”  A cleared throat doesn’t reassure you enough but you let it go for the time being.  Prying wasn’t going to help.  “”M gonna get a beer.”  He murmurs, chain jingling from his belt as he makes his way toward what you can only assume is the kitchen where Donnie had just disappeared to.

As pathetic as it seemed, you weren’t going to allow yourself to wander around alone, vulnerable to various conversations trapping you in small talk with strangers: an absolute nightmare.  Timidly, you follow behind Eddie at a safe distance, holding your breath as you take in the new room full of busy women and many glasses of wine.  The smell of gravy heavily lingers, a tinge of the sourly sweet alcohol peeking through as you release your breath and inhale finally.  

And then-they were all over him.  Sweet older women, ranging from around fifty plus years, all doting on him, cooing at him while complimenting how tall he is and his handsome features.  It only forces you to lean your hip against the counter and take in the most captivating scene you’d ever witnessed.  His cheeks redden, his entire face matching shortly after as he nods in response, small “thank you”s sneaking past his lips with a sheepish grin threatening to spread across his face, dimples prominent.  It’s clear he doesn’t know what to do with the attention, has no recognition of the power he currently holds.

“Is this one yours?!”  One woman shrieks, taking your hands in her bony ones.

“Oh-”

“You’re so lucky, he’s such a looker!”  Another chimes in.

“We’re not-”

“You better hope he holds onto all that hair throughout the years.”  A third nods.

Eddie’s face has never been redder, crimson painting his usually pale skin, a beer pinched in between his fingers as he avoids every single eye in the room.  You can only imagine the look on your own face, maybe slightly mortified with a hint of pink pulling at your cheeks due to the unnecessary attention.

“Alright, alright.”  Donnie interjects.  “Enough, you’re gonna scare ‘em away before they’ve even had a bite to eat!”  She waves her hands around, dramatics on full display as she shoos them away like pigeons.

“Thank you.”  You whisper, eyes large and surprised.

“Run, run.”  Donnie displays wide eyes, gently shoving you both out of the kitchen.

–

Throughout the evening, you kept Eddie in your peripheral.  Sure, he was grown and fully capable of taking care of himself but it didn’t worry you any less when holidays weren’t necessarily his favorite thing.  Anxieties lurked in the back of your mind the second he started counting earlier, never once fading away no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that he was fine, now bantering back and forth with Sam.

“That Steve kid really can’t dance.”  Nathan laughs, pulling you back into the initial conversation you were having, perched on the couch with a glass of wine set in front of you on the coffee table courtesy of Donnie’s excellent hosting skills.

“Well that’s why he excused himself off the dancefloor.”  You softly smile, earning another hearty laugh from the man.

“Hey, but Eddie’s no better.”  He jokes, taking a swig of his beer.  “Looked like a damn giraffe stumbling over his own legs.”

“I wasn’t very coordinated either!”  You defend.  “We were a hot mess.”  You bury your face in your hands.

“Yeah, I bet Eddie thought you were hot.”

The recliner adjacent to you creaks beneath Jett as he makes himself comfortable, slouching with a beer in his hand.

“Whoa.”  Nathan leans forward, ready to reprimand him.  “What-”

“That’s okay.”  You speak softly, your hand covering the older man’s as an act of keeping the peace, something you did best.  Several seconds of contemplation and a glance across the room toward Eddie change your mind.  

“Actually-it’s not.”  You turn your body toward Jett, a man–child before your eyes that refused to even look at you after his comment.  Your hands shake and your cheeks heat with embarrassment, chalking your sudden confidence up to the glass and a half of wine you indulged in.  

“What?”  Jett furrows his brows, examining his beer far too aggressively as a means to avoid you.

“It’s not okay.”  You whisper, a wimpy excuse of a defense.

“What’s gotten into you, boy?”  Nathan scolds through gritted teeth.

Jett’s nearly-black eyes resemble something opposite in comparison to the warmth in those across the room currently harboring a twinkle in an engaged conversation.  The boy is unable to get a word in as you quietly begin to address him.

“Look, I’m sorry if I did something wrong.”  You regret the tremble in your tone, confrontation was well out of your comfort zone, especially with someone who had been so hostile for no reason.  It wasn’t in your DNA to be the “bad guy” even when it would benefit your wellbeing.

Something in your words softens Jett’s eyes, pulls a piece of him back into reality.  You weren’t terrorizing him and he couldn’t seem to grasp that ever since that night you had argued with Eddie behind the bar.  And you hadn’t spoken a word out of line but you weren’t clueless.  Clearly he had an agenda against you and Eddie, it never left your mind since Eddie mentioned that Jett got all over-protective suddenly that night and took it out on him.  But what could you do when all he did was puff out his chest rather than have a decent conversation?  His frayed emotions were not your responsibility, you owed him nothing if he was going to insist on acting like a toddler in adult situations.  You suppose some of it could be due to his lack of years behind yourself and Eddie, Jett still a teenager, almost twenty whereas you had been in your twenties for a few years now.  It wasn’t an excuse, just your brain attempting to work out his logic.

“You didn’t–you didn’t do anything wrong.”  He sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

You don’t offer any words.  Only an expectant look.  Expecting of some kind of explanation as to why he’d been acting so cruel.  And as if the universe decided you didn’t live in enough anguish with your homesickness that morning paired with the current unwanted confrontation, Eddie’s eyes met yours for a brief moment before darting away, a deep sigh and suddenly slouching shoulders clearly indicating some kind of defeat before he quietly stepped out of the room.

“Can we get into this another time?”

You don’t wait for a response, excusing yourself to slip out of the room and follow the trail of cold out the front door, the chill seeping into your bones as your cradle your arms close to yourself.  The porch is spacious, something you hadn’t taken notice of earlier when arriving.  To your left, Eddie sits on a wooden bench with the family name “Scott” carved into it.  A cigarette takes its place between his fingers, his lighter flickering while he lets out a frustrated groan.  He places the stick between his lips and cups the flame to hide it from the wind, finally succeeding in lighting it, puffs of smoke escaping through the corners of his mouth.

“I’m not fragile, Bambi.  Stop following me around.”  He mutters, pulling the cigarette from his lips.  There’s no malice detected in his words, just something lacking hope as he stares straight ahead.

Carefully, you sit at the very edge of the bench, your skirt a tad too short to allow you to fully sit back due to the cold surface.  You catch a wave of his warmth as he rests his arm on his thigh.  It hurts, how far away he feels even being inches from you; his mind might as well be on Jupiter.  A momentary glance over at you causes him to sigh deeply, his head dipping down while he shakes it in disappointment.

“And dammit!”  Eddie snaps, face twitching in aggravation.  “I don’t have a jacket for you this time.  Learn how to dress for the cold.”  He gestures to your posture, your arms wrapped around your middle in an attempt to savor any warmth, and your jaw clenched shut as a means to keep your teeth from chattering though you can’t seem to contain the shivers nearly rattling your bones.

“I don’t need one.”

He scoffs, disbelief evident in his movements, a fidgeting hand reaching up to scratch the barely-there stubble at his jaw.  

“I don’t!”  You lie.

You were never one to willingly be dishonest but a little white lie in this case didn’t seem like the end of the world.  Not when Eddie’s fragile state of mind seemed to gnaw away at him.  You wouldn’t leave him out for the wolves to feed on him; wolves being his never ending thoughts that always without fail, won him over and forced him to crawl back into his comfort zone of isolation.  You suppose you weren’t so innocent either, always succumbing to the very same habits.

“Go back inside.”  A flick of his cigarette ash towards the ground ignites in the thin layer of snow barely coating the porch before extinguishing.

You can’t help the furrow in your brows, staring at him as if to figure him out, attempting to glance into his large coffee colored irises, to no avail.  His shiny eyes dodge your attempts, the windows of his soul closed off, even from you.  Not that you were immediately entitled, though you figure with each trauma he had shared with you, he’d at least be able to look you in the eye.

“Come with me.”  You chirp.  “We’ll taste all the wines.  C’mon, and then we’ll be nice and hungry.  Drunk eating is the best.”  You extend a hand out toward him, your freshly painted nails perfectly imperfect in his peripheral.

“I’m not in the mood, Bambi.”

His gravelly voice has a certain effect on you, one you find not appropriate to dissect right now.  He lifts the cigarette back up to his lips, the chance to take one more drag stolen from him as you pluck it from his fingers, tossing it into the snow without regret, stomping your foot on it for good measure.

“Well, get in the mood.  Let’s go.”  

Boldly, you tug at his arm, unable to move him by yourself, you know.  But he willingly melts into your touch, allowing you to pull him up despite his protesting frown.  Though he follows you to stand, he doesn’t budge much further than that as you try to drag him back into the cozy warmth of the house.  The rounded tip of his nose glows red, the threat of a cold only pushing you to tug on his sleeve with no success in ushering him inside.

“I think ‘m just gonna head home.  You think someone else could give you a ride back?”  The question is hesitant, no longer wanting to participate in the festivities but still concerned for your well-being, especially if you were going to continue to drink.  

Your track record with alcohol wasn’t exactly great and he’d never forgive himself if something happened and he wasn’t there just because the sight of you talking to Jett had left a bad taste in his mouth.  But he couldn’t stand it any longer, watching you act so graceful all the time, especially to someone you didn’t particularly like, and then having to pretend that a simple kiss on the cheek didn’t absolutely wreck him.  A kiss that you hadn’t since mentioned, and he wasn’t going to humiliate himself by insinuating that you wanted him in that way.  No one wanted him in that way.

“What?”  You breathe, face shifting into a sadness Eddie wanted to kick himself for.  “No, you can’t go–”

“I’m sure Jett is ready and willing to entertain you.”

Low blow.  He could always count on himself to deliver a low blow at the worst of times.

Eddie knew now that you had a distaste for Jett, he knew that.  And yet he was stupid enough to continue using Jett as ammo against you for no reason other than his own insecurity.  If he continued to push you away then it wouldn’t hurt so bad when you realized he was scum of the earth.  Trailer trash.  A nobody.  That’s what he kept telling himself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  You fume, crossing your arms.

“I don’t know, Bambi.  You tell me cause I can’t figure you out.”

The use of his nickname for you stitched together with words of anguish only further confused you.  You couldn’t seem to win.

“Can’t–can’t figure me out?!”  You widen your eyes at him, only hoping to convey how ridiculous of a statement it is.  “Can’t figure me out.  What about you?!  You’re the one no one can figure out!”  

You’re on the verge of whining, begging in a sense.  Pleading with the most stubborn man in the world and god only knows what you’ll do if he doesn’t stand down.

“Maybe there’s a reason for that.”  He states simply, monotone.  It makes you want to yank your hair out by the roots and offer it to him, asking him if it’s enough.  If it’s enough to shut up the voices in his head.

“Yeah?  Because you don’t wanna let people in?!”  Uncharacteristically, you jab a finger into his chest, frustration making itself known across your face and you only know because his eyes ever so slightly soften.  “Eddie, all you do is give me mixed signals!  How many times do I have to tell you I want nothing to do with Jett?!  What do I have to do to get that through your thick fucking head?!”  He tries to get a word in but you don’t give him an opportunity.  “No, seriously!  I need an instruction manual or something because I’m trying!  I have been trying-”

“-I didn’t ask you to!”  He finally interrupts, sorrow filling his eyes.

With a deep breath, you calm your heaving chest.  It’s apparent you’re no longer cold, your skin hot from working yourself up.  Steam may as well be coming from your ears though it wasn’t your intention to get so irritated with him.  

“I wanted to.  I want to.”  Your voice comes out softer, a gentler approach to his sudden internal conflict.

“No.”

Turning away, he doesn’t quite move to leave but there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s trying to shut you out.  He’s trying to escape like some kind of feral animal but you refuse to give in.  You refuse to let him.  

“Yes.  Eddie–look at me!”  You demand with a small pull of his arm.

“No.”

He goes to turn his body even further away from you but the firm hold you have on his bicep stops him.  He keeps his gaze on the floorboards below, his nose twitching and eyes burning with the threat of tears.  You only know because you’re all too familiar with the mandatory frown that comes with holding them back.

“Stop doing that.  Please.”  You beg.

“I can’t be here right now–”

“What makes you think I can?”

He’s silent.  The world instantly feels so quiet, tiny snow flurries fluttering around you, making you feel as if you’re the only two people on Earth.  Echoes of the celebrating and hollering inside are faint although they don’t do much to pop the bubble you find yourselves in.  Then he breaks the silence, daring to plead with you this time.

“Bambi, please.”  He croaks.

Your initial thought is, please what?  You’d been pleading with him back and forth for god knows how many minutes straight and here he was doing it right back to you.  And for what?  It wasn’t a good enough plea, not for you.  You weren’t ready to let it go, if you even knew what “it” was.

“No, you’re coming inside and you don’t have to associate with me if you don’t want to but you’re coming inside.”

Your demand only seems to irritate him, his brows knitting together while he pinches the bridge of his nose in between his fingers.  If he was agitated then you were about to become enraged.  And that is not something you wanted.  You never wanted to display that kind of emotion toward him but he was practically pulling it out of you and you had to fight against it.  No one had ever been able to pull such a reaction out of you, not ever.  Even if you had gotten pretty close, you swallowed it down and hid it.

“Why?!”  Eddie seethes.

His outburst takes you back, though with the aggravation boiling within you, you were able to contain any reaction he was seeking, if any.  That wasn’t the case for long though as you then launch yourself into another tantrum after staring for a second too long at his snarled lip.

“Because believe it or not, I care, Eddie!”  You practically wail, your voice becoming hoarse.  “If you leave I’m coming with you because I’m not leaving you alone.  Not on Thanksgiving.”  Your head shakes in denial.

Against your own will, a single tear trails down your cheek and the moment you feel it, you’re rapidly wiping it away, hoping he never even saw it when you knew damn well his umber eyes followed it all the way down your face.  He only pulls his gaze away.

“I’m leaving.  You’re staying here.”  He decides, regret etched into his features.

In a final attempt to escape your grasp, he succeeds, feeling your fingertips linger for one last second before drifting away as he turns and makes his way down the porch steps, wood protesting beneath him.  The noise is the only proof you have that he’s actually leaving, that he actually feels he’s not worthy enough to stay.  

You refuse to give up so easily.

Your feet are already on a mission, nearly sprinting down the stairs even with the threat of slipping on the minimal amount of ice beginning to freeze over.  Eddie pays no mind to the fast paced footsteps crunching against the gravel behind him, making his way over to Sugar with his head hung low.  Your heart is racing, not just because you suddenly decided to sprint a few yards but because a healthy dose of dopamine has started coursing throughout your body, a good amount of anxiety accompanying it but not deferring you any longer.

Eddie makes it to Sugar, his hand reaching for the door only for it to be forced shut with a self-manicured hand.  If he didn’t know who the hand belonged to he’d be chewing the owner out for daring to touch his beloved truck.  Instead he rolls his eyes and turns as he prepares to reprimand you in a much more gentle manner than he would anyone else.

Except he doesn’t even have the chance when your lips are suddenly pressed to the corner of his mouth, your body pushing him against Sugar.  His hands freeze mid air, his eyes wide open.  Your hands are resting on his chest and–he can’t breathe.  You pull away, inches from him and he can’t breathe, he can’t speak, he can’t move.  As far as he’s concerned he isn’t even human anymore.  

“Stay.”  You whisper, your breath fanning over slightly chapped lips.

His lips won’t stop tingling, he can’t grasp the concept of what just occurred.  He refuses to even touch you for fear that you might disappear right before him.  Hell, he’s not even sure he’s allowed to.

It’s difficult to gauge his reaction, his heavy breath lingering with the smell of his cigarette that would probably gross you out had it been anyone else but for some reason, because it’s him, you don’t mind very much.  You must smell strongly of wine which isn’t always pleasant so you figure you’re even.

“Please stay.”   You repeat, nudging your nose into his.

It’s like he’s in a trance, his eyelids becoming lazy and his body relaxing when you reach up to trace your thumb ever so slightly over his jaw.  His forehead rests against yours, his eyes squeezing shut, and you can hear a gulp in his throat.  With his eyes still shut, he nods and before you can process it, he launches himself into your arms in a tight embrace, wrapping himself around you, his face buried in your neck.  A wetness catches against your skin catches your attention, Eddie’s body heaving slightly and you just know.

You know that the tear stains on your skin mean more to him than you could ever imagine.

Slowly, your fingers tangle in his hair, threading into the curls at the nape of his neck to lightly scratch his scalp soothingly.  The way he grips onto you tighter, his body shaking, only confirms that physical touch and affection was not a luxury he was allowed in his lifetime.  If he let you, you’d spend thousands of hours holding him, even in the cold.  Whatever he needed.

But the snow flurries began to grow larger and the wind started to pick up.  And you’d be damned if you allowed yourself and Eddie to catch a nasty cold when you could be doing the same thing inside next to the fire.  Though, as you thought about it, Eddie would probably shy away from your touch in front of everyone.  And that didn’t anger you in the way it normally would.  Because you couldn’t blame him, someone so touch starved that he began to sob the second he was willingly kissed and told he was wanted, for shying away from showers of physical affection in front of peers that only know him to be big, bad, Eddie Munson.  It would be too much of a change and you weren’t willing to force that upon him.

So as the cold grew more unforgiving, you continued to hold him.  He would be the one to decide when he felt he wanted to part from you.  And if you both got sick, so be it.  A stupid cold would be worth the price if you were able to provide him the touch he went so long without and so badly craved, even if he didn’t quite know it at first.

Eddie parted from you far sooner than anticipated.  His cheeks were rosy, his rounded nose matching, endearingly so.  His eyelashes were dotted with a few lingering tears, his eyes rimmed with red but sadness was absent from his features.  Instead there was a fondness dripping from his expression and though he parted from the embrace to gaze down at you, he still clung to you like his life depended on it. 

“Can I–can I kiss you?”  He whispers shakily.

You want to laugh, only because he’s acting as if you didn’t kiss him in the first place.  But you bury it deep down and only let a smile blossom.  

“Please.”  You whisper back.

This time, you’re more than happy to beg.  

Hesitantly, his shaky hand cups your jaw, the warmth from his skin more than welcome as he gently slots his lips against yours.  He’s slow with it, taking his time.  As you move in rhythm with him, you encourage him, moving his arms to circle your waist, pressing yourself closer and letting your hands travel up his chest to lock behind his neck.  

“I can’t stop.”  He laughs quietly, continuously pecking your lips like he can’t get enough.

“Don’t.”  You giggle into his mouth.

Teeth clash against teeth and though he hasn’t quite graduated to using tongue yet, you have the urge to introduce him.  Before you can pass your tongue along his plump bottom lip, he curses under his breath as he pulls away, only causing worry to spread across your face.

“You’re freezing.”  His hands rub up and down your arms to somewhat heat you up and only then do you realize your face feels completely numb.

“No, I’m fine.”  You protest against your better judgment.  It wasn’t exactly fitting to be in tights while one of the first snow falls of the year ensued.

“You’ll be a popsicle in like three seconds.”

Eddie softly smiles, reaching for your hand and tugging you with him toward the house.  A whine escapes you, a pathetic whimper but you manage to shuffle yourself along with him.  Before entering the realm of reality beyond the front door, Eddie turns to you, stars in his eyes, something glimmering.

“How’s my nose?  Snotty?”  He grins, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

~end~

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[orbital-inclination]

I requested more of the scenario Molt meeting og nightmare

I'm sorry for the wait anon! For a change of pace, you get a one-shot this time! word count: 3411 general content warning for canon typical violence and angst.

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

Something grainy, like gravel and sand, crunched under the soles of his boots as he shuffled back a step. One looping tendril made contact with a roughly cut boulder behind him. The height of the stone reached his hip. Clumsily, he ran his phalanges along its surface. He stepped around it and stopped once he stood on the south side, uncertain of how to proceed from there.

It was rare that he found himself in a space so wide open without someone nearby. He’d like to think he was better at navigating now than he had been when he was younger. Yet, regardless of how much time passed, he could never seem to quite outgrow the sudden spike of anxiety he felt whenever he entered a space that seemed... empty.

 He didn’t know what he was walking towards or away from. He could be approaching a canyon for all he knew.

A steady, lonely wind howled above him. It caught the tail of his tunic and the fabric slapped against his side. Something rustled in the distance. 

The wind turned cold. 

Ley lines of magic, negative and positive, wrapped around this world in a vast net of ever-shifting ripe tides. Instinct had directed him to follow the nearest positive swell but now he felt it move again. Bending as though to make way. Just as suddenly as the air had turned cold, a well opened up, and negativity cascaded down the pit and condensed into a single point of black frost. 

A shiver ran down his spine. “Nightmare…?”

Something about Rem’s magic didn’t feel right—

“How unlike you to make the first move. Was it not enough for you to…” his brother’s voice trailed off. “You are not my brother.” 

No... no he was not. Rem’s magic felt cold, but not this cold. Though, the undercurrent of bitterness was painfully familiar. 

“… the sentiment is mutual,” Molt murmured. He steadied himself on the boulder behind him. Silently, he tried to gauge the other’s intent.

An air of suspicion and curiosity rolled underneath the cold. He had the sense he was also being appraised.

“And yet, you are Dream.”

He did not sound—did not feel happy about that.

“If it were not impossible, I would wager you were from a divergent timeline.”

“Our world had only one timeline,” Molt confirmed cautiously. His voice remained low. “… it’s tied to the multiverse itself. No resets. Just the one.”

“Ah, so you are informed,” his brother's voice mocked. “Your presence here suggests a paradox, then. For all my searching, I have never met another iteration of us who could breach the confines of their AU on their own. It seemed there was some law restricting the role of Guardian to Two.”

He nodded because that more or less described the situation back home. With a renewed sense of scrutiny, Nightmare said, “Can I assume then, that instead of your brother, you were the one who bit the apple?”

And Molt stalled. The question was so direct. It felt a bit like a verbal slap to the face. 

Nightmare hummed. “I see. That expression you’re making... It makes sense for my alternative self to have other motives if you are like this yourself.” He heard the grin in his tone, even if he could not see it. “Tell me, Dream. What do you say to adding to that collection of yours?” He— he couldn’t be serious. 

“In this multiverse, you have the opportunity to increase your power. If you collect the last apple from my brother, perhaps we can reach an agreement.”

His mouth felt suddenly dry. He had to consciously still his tentacles to keep them from lashing defensively.

“You… you want me to kill my counterpart.”

He struggled to wrap his mind around that. Less so the threat itself and more so that it was Nightmare who was asking him to do it. He felt sick.

His brother’s alternate rumbled a low laugh. “It would not be difficult for you. You dwarf him in raw power. I’m confident you could easily subdue him... Ah, but I see I cannot convince you. The thought distresses you. A pity.”

Gravel and sand crunched underfoot. The sound came quietly. “ … hmm just as I thought, you are blind.”

“...what are you doing?” 

Nightmare was amused by the question. Dread washed over him. Nightmare had been speaking to him civilly until that point, and while this mirror of his brother gave off an ambient feeling of danger, he had not taken the feeling as seriously as he should have. 

“I am considering what to do with you. Since it seems you are reluctant to cooperate. But you would be of a dull mind not to suspect that already. If you are anything like the thorn I have in my side now, I’m sure you will quickly surmise why I simply cannot let your existence go unchecked.” 

Molt slowly shuffled a step back. 

“… where do you think you will escape to? Are you even aware of what is behind you?”

Molt froze.

He sensed no one behind him but— the subtle rustle of fabric. A step was taken closer and it dawned on him that Nightmare had been trying to distract him.

Molt’s hearing was keen. It had to be. He learned to rely on it when sensing nearby emotions, and the flow of positive and negative wasn’t enough. But his haptic memory was better, and with one tentacle brushing against the boulder behind him, he knew which side he stood on and which direction he originally came from. 

He darted around the boulder, squarely placing it between himself and Nightmare. His brother’s alternate self stood still, contemplative and mildly surprised. 

“Hm. You cannot see, and yet you are able to pinpoint my position. Interesting.” 

Molt didn’t feel like providing a reply.

Nightmare didn’t move for a width of time that felt like years. And then, he vanished. The cold sucked out of the air in a blip of distorted space-time.

Alarm seized him. Given no time to think, he picked direction and distance at random and took a shortcut through. As he felt his bones materialize in reality again, a dense frame of cold magic solidified where he had stood seconds prior.

Displeasure radiated off of Nightmare in waves. “Come now. Don’t run. It’s unbecoming. We can discuss the terms of your departure from this world with maturity.”

Molt shivered. “Don’t. I would return to my reality if I knew how.”

“Then allow me to assist you,” Nightmare said, and the malice in his words sent needles crawling up his spine. He vanished again in a wash of cold. Molt leaped back, grasping at the nearest tide of positivity to carry him away.

He found his feet again on the sand. The sudden incline made him stumble. The seconds it took to catch his balance nearly cost him. A frustrated growl and the sensation of ice to his right was the only warning he had before a sharp object whistled past his skull. He teleported again and Nightmare followed. 

“Enough! Cease this childishness.” The burning cold struck his side. Molt tumbled to the ground. He rolled, gasping in pain, and launched himself to the side. “Stop! I don’t want to fight you.” A loud crack sounded where he’d just been. Gravel pelted his arm. 

“Then what happens next is your own fault,” His brother’s voice snarled.

He took another shortcut. Aiming north of the dense vortex of cold desperately trying to put some distance between himself and his brother’s counterpart. He needed that distance to escape this AU. If he attempted the jump too close to Nightmare he might unintentionally drag him along, or Nightmare would be able to sense where he went and this fight would never end. The temperature plummeted. In a split second, a cold tendril snapped around his middle. And then he was flung. His body hit the ground once, twice, and his skull was knocked against something hard. 

A hiss shuddered through his ribcage. Molt clenched his teeth as the world spun, attempting to swallow back the sound. 

“You brought this on yourself, Dream.” 

Gravel and sand crunched at a steady pace. Malice approached slowly. 

He struggled to push himself upright. The ground beneath him swayed dangerously. His tendrils lashed, writhing in defense of their host. But the ground beneath him lurched, his arms buckled, and the ground swung up to meet the side of his skull again. 

His soul pulsed so fast and hard in his chest, he thought he was going to be sick. 

“Poetic, isn’t it? I wonder... did the same desperation drive you?”

Cold wrapped around him and slammed his back into a hard, stone wall. 

Claws dug into his jaw, roughly pinning his skull to the stone slab behind him. A strained hiss tore from his bared teeth. He found the strength to wrestle one arm free and dug his claws into the wrist pinning his head down. Nightmare’s strength didn’t waver, but an involuntary noise rattled through him, a jolt that was close enough to a flinch to be nothing else. 

Faintly, Molt felt the phantom echo of a hot brand race up Nightmare’s arm, starting from where his claws dug into his wrist.

“W-why are you doing this? I am not from your timeline, so why?”

“The distinction is irrelevant,” the grip on his jaw tightened. “This fate, it’s the least you deserve. For everything you put me through. For every day I was left to defend myself while you selfishly basked in undeserved praise.” 

Exhaustion crept into his limbs. He felt weaker and heavier by the second.

“Would you have always resented me?” Molt gasped out. “If things had been different... If our lives had been better—”

Nightmare barked out a bitter laugh. “Even as you are now, you are naive. No. I cannot imagine a world where I did not hate you. For us, no other outcome was possible.” Molt flinched. “... you doubt me? Do you actually believe my alternate self doesn’t resent you?” 

The knife in his heart gave a sharp lurch. It would make sense... wouldn’t it. For all he hadn’t done, who wouldn’t resent him? 

“N-Night...”

“You neglected your responsibilities, Dream. You were selfish. I’ve always wondered if you had known what I stood to lose that day. If you had known what they had planned to do—” “Nightmare!” Molt snapped. He was terrified, his soul shook, and he was painfully cold. “That was my home too!” Something snapped. He felt the abrupt, quaking shift in Nightmare’s demeanor. Rage colored all rational thought. Molt didn’t know what he intended to do and he didn’t have time to think about it. That rage solidified into a single, sharp tool. Malice soaked the thing so vividly, he could almost see it. A serrated bone dagger.

Molt jerked his head to the side, the claws on his jaw slipped, and something sharp and blisteringly cold scraped the side of his skull.

He might have blacked out for a few seconds. He couldn’t be sure. One moment, his vision was black. Then it was white. He’d yanked a tentacle free in the next. A resounding crack thundered through the stone lab behind him. Nightmare’s grip on his head slipped, caught off guard. Molt kicked his shin, and as Nightmare staggered, snarling, he flash-stepped out of immediate reach. 

A safe distance away he sank to the ground. 

Head swimming, he lifted a shaky hand to the side of his skull. He felt bone. The dry, clean surface of a malar bone. The muddy, blurred shape of his palm swam in and out of focus. 

Nightmare stood very still for a long moment. His emotions felt stunted and Molt could not identify the feeling that had rendered him so still. Moments ago, Nightmare had been content to hurt him in every possible way.

“Get up,” Nightmare said. And he couldn’t identify the emotion behind that command either. It felt like anger but brittle. “I said get up!”

A tremble racked through his body. He felt a forbidden spark of anger ignite in his throat and shakily rose to his feet.

As he slowly lifted his gaze, palm still pressed to the side of his skull, he saw black tar and went still. 

It was one thing to guess the shape of the magic that had tossed him around the field like a rag doll, but it was another thing entirely, to see it.

The ground felt like it was tilting. Nightmare was taking too long to respond. And though he hid it well, he was clearly in pain. Head swimming. Pounding. Red-hot needles. Nausea pricked through his brother’s bones.

Nightmare took one step closer. Molt flinched back, and a bitter smile crawled over his brother’s teeth—

“NOT SO FAST!”

A sharp ping. His vision was eclipsed in hazy blue. Before Molt could blink, he found himself yanked to the side, several feet away.

He was released, gently at that, and stumbled once as gravity resumed its normal weight. The world erupted in a cacophony of noise. With color and light sloshing together, it was difficult to make out shape and form, but the stirring magic immediately in front of him was familiar.

“Blue?” Molt whispered, but like Nightmare his magic felt just slightly off. The hope in his soul withered. He was surrounded by strangers.

“MWEH HEH HEH FEAR NOT STRANGE INTERDIMENSIONAL CITIZEN! WE ARE HERE TO SAVE THE DAY. NIGHTMARE! YOU WILL NOT GET AWAY WITH THIS!”

Whatever his brother’s mirror said in reply it was drowned out by noise.

“Wait.”

But his voice was too low. Too quiet. And his plea went ignored.

Too much happened at once after that. The Swap Sans launched himself into the fight. Light. Movement. A flash of white. Bones summoned then shattered by the furious sweep of a black arm. Nightmare’s strength was weakening. The balance had tipped. And battling three by himself? Nightmare couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

Most of the fight happened too fast for his barely stable eyelight to track.

So he did what he always did when the world around him became too chaotic to follow. He reached for the cold pitch of his brother’s magic. 

He followed the current of cold as it funneled into a singular point. Pushed back, and back again by a burning white star. Hope. Concentration. Concern for the other, yet the courage to see his actions through to the end. The familiarity of the magic here was disconcerting. But his head already ached something awful and he didn't think his nausea could get much worse. The phantom lashes he’d endured at Nightmare’s hand still burned. But... Nightmare. He felt his twin’s exhaustion, felt the unsteady slip to his heel, and his alternate was closing in now and—

The shortcut was rough. Poorly executed. And finding his balance on the balls of his feet was not fun. He raised his arm defensively, anticipating the attack seconds before, and found his hand closing around the pole of a golden staff. It smacked into his palm with a solid clank. It hurt only a little bit. His own magic absorbed the brunt of the blow to feed itself. To lessen some of his own pain. And staring into the wide eyes of his own face was... 

Dizzying. 

Everything was dizzying. 

That startled look melted into one of fear, and it didn’t make sense. His own rib cage hitched, sharing that fear second hand and then it dawned on him how this might look. Oh. He thought. …oh.

He released his counterpart's weapon and yanked his hand back. The other skeleton flash stepped out of reach, his soul pulsing with the rhythm of a terrified rabbit.

Within the pool of frigid cold at his back, he felt a spark of something that felt suspiciously like gratitude. Nightmare struggled to stand for a moment, winded, then laughed. The sound was not pleasant. “Recklessness must be a universal trait.”

“That’s enough,” Molt rasped. “Please. Just stop…”

“You should have taken my offer when you had the chance,” Nightmare sneered, words bitting. But more than anything, they felt defensive. The darkness pinched into a small, black star, and then he was gone.

“I SEE. WAS I MISTAKEN THEN? ARE YOU AND NIGHTMARE ALLIES?” Blue had taken a defensive stance beside his teammate. His weapon was drawn, but he didn’t move yet. His soul hummed with grim focus. The suspicion hurt. 

Molt struggled to speak for several precious seconds. Unsettled. He was reeling from the fight, from everything he had learned about this reality and the cruelty of his brother's words and actions and he was trying ever so hard not to let a tremble snake its way into his voice. It was very hard... to hear someone say those awful things in Rem’s voice.

He shook his head and said softly. “We aren’t.”

Blue’s brow furrowed. “THEN, WHY DID YOU DEFEND HIM? 

The words ‘because he is my brother?’ were on the edge of his teeth but the hostile edge to Blue’s magic and tone made him pause. It was less a question and more of an accusation. And that answer wouldn’t have been exactly true besides. 

The tendril on his back coiled defensively. 

He hadn’t stopped to think before he leapt in front of Nightmare. It hadn’t been a “should I or shouldn’t I” situation in his mind. In that moment he was unable to look past the pain and hurt his brother’s mirror was experiencing. In that moment, the distinction didn’t matter. He had to put a stop to it, that’s all. He couldn’t fight his brother. In any form he took. He just couldn’t do it. It reminded him of too much. And he couldn’t stand to watch that either. 

But how could he possibly explain that? 

A step behind his teammate, Dream was trying to calm down. Blue’s presence helped but he was struggling. Molt took a step back. He was causing someone pain and distress. He didn’t want that. Blue’s stance shifted. Bracing.

That felt like betrayal too. Molt swallowed something bitter behind his teeth and tried not to think of it that way. Ignored that small part of him that hissed and felt a little bit angry. It didn’t make sense. He knew the person in front of him wasn’t his friend.

“FRIEND, I WANT TO GIVE YOU THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT BUT... YOU ARE ACTING SUSPICIOUSLY.”

“I’ll leave,” Molt said. His head was pounding, and the last thing he wanted was to be dragged into another fight. “Wait...” Dream took a breath. “You’re hurt. Stay for a minute, let’s talk.” “DREAM IS RIGHT, POTENTIAL ENEMY OR NOT, IT WOULDN’T BE RIGHT TO LEAVE YOU THIS WAY. NOT TO FEAR HOWEVER, I AM ALWAYS PREPARED!” “It’s okay. I don’t need candy,” Molt said and felt vaguely like he was reading the lines of a script. If Rem or any of the others were here, they’d be calling his bluff. “Then, what do you need?”

“Somewhere calm, with hope. That’s all.”

The two exchanged a look. Surprise, suspicion, resignation, dread. “I SEE. SO YOU ARE LIKE DREAM THEN. BUT SURELY THAT'S NOT ENOUGH. I... I CANNOT SEEM TO CHECK YOU FOR SOME REASON, BUT YOU DO NOT LOOK WELL.”

Blue seemed to ask to Dream something silently. Concern. Suspicion. Acceptance. Dream sighed. “I know somewhere. It’ll be okay. We’ll be keeping an eye on him together, right? The place I’m thinking of is isolated so...”

“IT’S SETTLED THEN.” he finally dismissed his weapon, and Molt felt the tendrils on his back slowly lower. “SO THEN, NEW FRIEND, WHAT DO YOU SAY TO A TRUCE? WILL YOU COME WITH US?”

He gauged their intent for a moment. Rem had sometimes remarked that his empathy made him gullible. But Molt was tired, and sore, and aching. The others weren’t here. And he let them make decisions for him too much anyway. He hated to admit it but Nightmare was right. Dream wasn’t a physical threat to him. He was scared and trying so hard to be brave, and Molt was trying equally hard not to feel rattled.

“Okay,” he said.

Blue made a noise, something between acknowledgment and mild confusion. Dream offered a strained smile. He supposed they had a lot of questions.

[percynorthwest]

jegulus microfic - fool

June 21st - @jegulus-microfic - words: ~650

suuuper fluffyyy

Regulus awakes with the smell of food in the kitchen, soft music playing, and a glimpse of sun in his face. He can't help but let out a soft smile as he lets his eyes adjust to the light. He stretches his arms above his head and lets out a soft yawn. He doesn't quite feel like getting up yet, he want to soak in the emotions that this day brought. When he moved, the black cat laying by his feet stands up, arches its back, and starts walking up to Regulus' face, sniffing his hair before laying down by his chest.

"Hi, Luci," he mumbles while stroking her soft fur.

The cat immediately starts purring, and Regulus can't help his giddy excitement about it all. He's so pathetically happy. He buries his face in Luci's fur, smiling so big that he felt like his face was splitting in two.

"Wisee~ meeen saaay..." James' baritone voice can be heard from the kitchen, which only makes the warm feeling of happiness in Regulus' stomach grow. "Only fools rush in."

Regulus throws his legs off the bed, and lifts the cat into his arms as he joins James in the kitchen, the pathetic smile still oh so big on his face. If Regulus from a mere three years ago could see him now...

"But I caaaan't help," James continues, turning towards regulus as he sees him exiting their bedroom. "Falling in love with you..." he's singing into a wooden spatula which he holds in one hand, and he puts his other on the side of Regulus' face.

Regulus leans in and meets him in a welcomed kiss.

"Good morning love," James says, voice still a bit grainy from sleep -which only makes regulus want to drag him back to bed- but that's besides the point.

James is smiling softly and warmly at him, and Regulus feels so much that he has too look away from those brown eyes for a bit, before meeting them again.

"I've made breakfast," james says, nodding towards the kitchen table already set with plates, pancakes, juice, bread, fruits, and everything else in their fridge probably.

"I see," Regulus answers, still with a big grin. "Is this to be expected every morning?" he teases. "this is really... wow."

"It's quite nice, right? and i'll see what i can do, -no promises- but of course our first morning as roommates had to be extra perfect." He says with a smile.

"Any morning with you is extra perfect." Regulus can't help but say as he leans in again to kiss him.

Ugh, its so cheesy it's making (a part of) him want to throw up. He used to roll his eyes whenever couples would act like that, whether it be on a film or in real life. but now? he gets it. He really fucking gets it. Sure, him and james hasn't been together for long, well a year is quite long, so maybe they were just in some kind of eternal honeymoon-stage. But regulus loves it nonetheless.

"And roomates? have i been demoted from boyfriend?" he jokes as James hands him a cup of warm tea.

Regulus sets Luci down to get his hands on the cup.

"Hmm, maybe friends with benefits?" James smiles and grabs Regulus' hips, kissing the top of his head as Regulus takes a sip of the warm tea.

"mmm, sure."

They each take a seat at their kitchen table. the music is still playing softly in the background. outside it's shining. their (though she was Regulus' first) cat sips water from her bowl. Maybe they had to paint a few of the walls, unpack (a lot of) boxes, and maybe the apartment was tiny and far away from everything, but it was theirs, and it was the place where they shared the first of the many 'more than perfect' mornings.

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 23 - Up and Coming

Summary: Eddie wasn't used to success.

Word Count: 752

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Angst? But then happiness? Eddie Munson sad-sackery turned into perseverance and joy.

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Eddie wasn't used to success.

The Munson name meant being unpopular, being picked last. It happened to him for his entire life.

Maybe when his mom was still alive things had been a little different. But he'd been young, and Kindergarteners didn't care what your name was as long as you wanted to play pretend or race cars or hopscotch with them.

He had to grow up once she was gone. But once you were grown there was nothing to protect you from the harsh realities of the world. Of the unfairness of others.

People told him he sucked, that his clothes sucked, his taste in music. The more hits he took, the tougher his skin became, and before long those words didn't hurt him so much. Instead of digging into him and carving out a piece of his happiness though, they dug into the ground below him and created a canyon between him and the others.

But it was hard to build a bridge on your own; so he found others like him--other freaks--to help get across the social void until they could try to find a piece of the world they could make their own.

Or build it themselves if they had to.

And they did.

They built a club for themselves, an identity. Embraced the word freak to mean someone different, someone looking for a place to call their own. They started their band with a plan to get out. To find a place of belonging, to find a future, to find something more.

To find success.

It was elusive. The closer they got to it, the further away it seemed to get. But it's what drove them to keep going. Drove Eddie to keep going. He encouraged them to work harder, to push themselves further, and to never give up.

They moved to Indianapolis. Then to Chicago. They played fests and clubs and opened for bigger bands.

They just. Kept. Going.

But a handful of fans that could sincerely be called friends at this point, and gigs that still didn't fully pay the bills, and t-shirts that they simply could never sell enough...that wasn't success.

Right?

So when someone woke him up early one morning, pounding on his door, he certainly didn't expect it to hit him like a freight train.

Dave flung the newspaper at his head and then grabbed fistfuls of his t-shirt and shook him. All the while screaming "we did it! We did it! We made it Ed!"

Three Up-and-Coming Bands to Keep on Your Radar By Alex McCall

The headline was big.

Front of the entertainment section of the Tribune with a grainy black-and-white picture of him and the guys on stage at some venue. He couldn't quite tell which one, but they'd been booking gigs pretty regularly now so it could have been any of them.

Eddie rubbed the sleep from his eyes and scanned over the page, over the paragraphs about the other bands that he'd vaguely heard of in passing, until he reached the two paragraphs about Corroded Coffin.

This McCall guy sung their praises. About their stage presence and their unique sound. About the small group of fans and praises from local critics Eddie had never heard of. About the four of them and their synchronicity on-stage.

This, that, and the kitchen sink.

It was a see it to believe it moment and Eddie simply could not believe it.

The article even ended with a quote from Eddie himself, one he couldn't remember giving.

"Guitarist Eddie Munson says the band is 'destined for a bigger stage' as he sips a can of Dr. Pepper and I have agree wholeheartedly. Keep Corroded Coffin at the front of your mind because these guys are going places and you don't want to miss your chance to get in on the ground floor.'

It was wild.

It was unbelievable.

"Davey I'm gonna need you to pinch me or something..." he muttered softly.

It was everything he could to not to feel like he was about to die, as his whole life flashed before his eyes. Every time he felt like a failure, every struggle he thought they'd never overcome.

Pain erupted in his arm and he was brought back to reality to find his friend grinning wickedly at him.

"OW!" he screeched "What the fuck! Not that hard!"

Eddie looked down at the newspaper once again, reread the article, and touched the picture reverently.

And that's when he realized...they found their place.

They found their future.

They were on their way.