#plot twist: he was never in love with y/n

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 || 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐖𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: angel of satisfaction || part two: here

summary_the fallout of your love story with jeong-won and how he begged long enough to drastically change your life.

warnings_ age gap (not specified but reader is in uni), implied sex, cheating, fluff, angst but happy ending , reader smokes, is implied to be American and PLOT TWIST at the end, NO PROOFREADING

notes_ need to watch goblin and the silent sea :( using the salesman tag to avoid the flop allegations

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo

✰ Index (+ fics here)

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

The smell of cigars filled your home: you never thought you would deliberately find yourself smoking.

But there you were, looking at the cloudy skyline while you threw out the unhealthy smoke.

Your phone rang and you pulled it out of your pocket.

The ninth call of the day. Three times three is the charm.

“What the fuck do you want?” You neutrally ask, ignoring the beating of your heart.

“…y/n? Thank goddess you’re answering” You roll your eyes. “We need to talk, there’s a lot you-“

“Jeong-won, I don’t want to talk about anything with you” The exasperated tone in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by him, which makes him feel even more stressed out. “In fact, I don’t want you to keep calling me. I don’t want you messaging me. I don’t want to have your follow on social media. I don’t want to hear your music in the clubs. I don’t want to ever fucking see your face again”

“Please, y/n. I don’t deserve to explain myself but-“

“I told you, you only had to pay for that dinner and forget about me. I suppose you didn’t mend things with your wife…” you abruptly cut him off, watching the smoke of the cigar fly out of your place.

“It’s complicated…” he sounds tired, sad and pathetic.

“Yeah… Everything’s that way with you. I just didn’t want to see it” you spit out, hanging up, leaving him to make a mess over the deadline.

You didn’t know how, but you would try everything just to forget him. But when you get out of the apartment the first thing you notice is the public trash can.

There lies the flower bouquet that appeared at your door three days ago. It had been Jeong-won’s first attempt to say sorry.

But so far it wasn’t working.

…

Three weeks into trying to move on. The first days felt like walking throwing a dark alleyway with no return. Tears always find a way to run out of your eyes, but you couldn’t deny, that you felt better.

Your friends helped a lot. Seoun-mi was the only one who said that if Jeong-won insisted, you could let him explain himself. Ruby and Jade immediately said no.

The spring was right around the corner. The rain was slowly coming to an end. The coats were being replaced with sweaters and cardigans. Even the sun cooperated, warming enough to make you go out to run.

Jeong-won crossed the street to walk towards his car. He had submitted a mini EP of music, expected to release mid-spring.

The city looked active, almost as if everyone had been trapped by the winter. He pulled out the keys to his car when he looked up.

His feet dragged him away, noticing a woman jogging down the street.

His face turned in awe after realizing it was you. Your matching grey tracksuit was hard to miss. He remembered you mentioned you were asthmatic, he wondered if you carried your inhalator.

“Y/N!” Jeong-won couldn’t care less if everyone stared at him as if he was insane. He started running hoping to get your attention.

His heart started beating so fast, the rush of seeing your face again, the hope of having you by his side again.

But that didn’t happen, you didn’t even listen. Music was playing so loud through your wireless headphones.

Jeong-won stopped running. He stared at your blurred vision and sighed in dismay.

His phone rang and he answered, still looking at you.

“Are you busy?” In-ji asked.

“No. I’m going home…” the man answered.

…

As the desperation started to burn you, the need to go out also grew stronger.

Ruby and Seoun-mi had seminars, and Jade had a meeting with her major advisor.

The outcome? You dancing all alone in a club.

You couldn’t go to the same one where you used to go. That’s where you met Jeong-won, it was too painful.

But as the alcohol sinks in, you start to feel tipsy, alerting you to stop drinking.

For a second you thought it was already too late but Han Jeong-won was actually there.

He gently pushed people to come to you.

There isn’t even time to feel angry, nervous, or panicked.

“What are you doing here?” You ask loudly.

“I came with a friend…” he admits, looking hopeful.

When you try to sneak away, Jeong-won grabs your wrist and pushes you against his chest. Only to then kiss you.

In his arms, you felt safe.

With his kisses, you felt cherished.

The man who urgently smashed his lips with yours in the middle of the dance floor while music blasted from the speakers was the love of your life.

He couldn't resist the temptation. Couldn't miss the chance and needed to let you know he always loved you. That everything was true.

"Please, believe me..." he pleaded, holding your hands.

"Fuck you, Jeong-Won"

Frivolously, you leave the taste of poison on his lips. His hand tried to grab yours again, but you slipped, leaving him.

Like you had already done before.

But it didn't make it easier, because tears started falling down the first step out of the club.

And in the middle of the cold night, you slip into your coat and start a quiet walk towards home.

You wished you knew he was mourning a life he had before you.

…

Caffè Americano…

The smell fills your nostrils and the warmth of the cup soothes the cold of your hands. Too many thoughts have run through your head over the days. And it was very rushed to say you were over Jeong-won. Walking through the same streets you once walked while feeling in love was devastating, as dramatic as it sounded.

But it’s a good day. You can feel like you are reaching peacefulness and it’s enough.

It’s been a month and a half since you last saw him. The world is not fresh, but it’s still open.

You walk out of the coffee shop, your boots sound with every step you take and the cool air makes the very few cherry blossoms in the trees fall.

Your eyes scan the street; everyone is just there living.

When would you start feeling like yourself again?

Apparently not at that moment. After coming down the little steps of the coffee shop, you look up and meet two people talking, just inches away.

Why was life so cruel? Why do you have to meet your ex-boyfriend and his wife right then and there?

They feel someone standing in their eyes, but they try to act so normal, like you hadn’t seen them. You start walking away. With firm steps and a well-hidden urge to run as well.

His hair looked the same, but his face looked less tired. She looked younger if that was even possible, with longer hair and more casual clothes.

Jeong-won and In-ji stare at each other awkwardly.

“Go after her” she softly tells him. Jeong-won stares back at her with unease before turning back his attention to you.

He knew you wanted to run away the moment you saw them.

“We already met once. What if we met again and she’s in the middle once again?” He can’t deny the anxiety growing as you stop waiting for the traffic lights to change.

“Jeong-won, perhaps we were really never meant to be together…” his face almost turns into a childish pout.

But maybe… In-ji was right.

She was kind, supportive and caring. She would’ve been a great wife. But their marriage started as a contract, Jeong-won never knew her completely.

He never felt the same way he did with you.

“We couldn’t even say ‘I love you’ to each other…” the woman admitted with a sad smile.

Then both turned to look at you.

“Go, explain her everything. And if we see each other again. It’s because we are meant to be friends. But that’s it…” Jeong-won almost felt his eyes turn glassy. But he nodded, gave Noh In-ju a brief kiss on the forehead, and literally started running towards you.

For a moment he thought about

You are still waiting for the green light when you hear him. You spot a cab and make him a sign to stop by you.

“Y/N !” When you look back, you see Jeong-won running, out of breath with his hand waving in an attempt to make you notice him.

You sigh, already feeling stressed out.

“This needs to stop. I can’t take it anymore!” You almost yell as soon as he ends up face-to-face with you. “I know it was just a coincidence and she’s your wife, but it’s not fair. I can’t do this anymore…”

You’re so mentally exhausted that you don’t even notice your eyes tearing up until the cool air makes you aware of the tears.

“Please, don’t cry. If you just let me explain… you and I-“

Boom. You explode…

“YOU AND I, NOTHING!”

It spills out of your mouth. The words even hurt you since you know it’s not true. People around stare but you don’t care.

“This is why I can’t go out anymore. I’m so scared that I will have to see your face again… “ his heart breaks, he can’t stand your tired and hurt tone, your burning cheeks, and your red eyes.

He wants to make it better but doesn’t know how.

“I never wanted to hurt you…” he admits with his broken voice and you find the strength to chuckle. “I will remember that when I’m gone…”

“You’re leaving?” Jeong-won finds himself panicking, already desperate to make you stay.

“If the office approves my petition, yes. I’ll leave in three weeks” his face goes pale. “And even after everything… I can’t hate you, Jeong-won”

Your cab arrives just in time, and you disappear without saying anything else. You don’t even look at him again.

And as the cab drives away, you begin to think about anything else. In hopes of forgetting about everything, starting with his face.

…

2:00 am…

You can’t sleep. It was the following night after a hangover day. Your friends almost cried, pleading you stay at least the rest of the semester. You hadn’t thought about leaving the apartment and all of the good memories built there.

You look through the open curtains at the skyline. The same crystal diving you from the city that once was your lullaby as Jeong-won hugged you and combed his fingers through your hair.

You were so sober that you even questioned if he deserved to explain himself.

What if he was in a bad marriage and he couldn’t get divorced but started seeing you? No… Then why did they look very happy talking to each other the last time?

What if he actually never meant to cheat on his wife but tremendously fell in love with you? No… He still cheated and never told you about it.

But he said he loved you.

And he looked sincere while doing so…

*beep beep*

Your phone makes you touch the ground again.

After hours of being in the dark, the light of the screen blinds you for a second.

Five new messages…

Jeong-won ♡

You never removed the heart beside his name in the contract.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I can’t sleep again.

and not because I’ve taken

the pills again. I miss you like

you have no idea.

I know I hurt you despite not

wanting to. But as I said, it’s complicated.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

My first wife and I had issues.

She always wanted to

control me. We almost had a kid,

but we lost it and that shattered my

life once again. So she urged me

to sign a fake marriage, now I see

how twisted and stupid it is.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I was so uncomfortable when this

new woman appeared at my place.

It was already a bad place

and it added up to my neglect. It was

never my intention to cheat on In-ji.

I was only being friendly

that night we met in the club. But the

more I heard you, the more I realized

how lonely I was. It was luck or a fluke

that you were in that burger shop

days after.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I swear to you, y/n, that every

word, caress, and moment I shared

with you was real. Never in my life

I’ve been more sure about

feeling like this. I wanted to tell

you about the marriage, but I

didn’t know how. I thought that

no matter how much I tried to

explain, it would sound terrible.

I was so close to falling in love

with her. But thank goodness

I didn’t, because I would have

settled for so little compared

to you. The marriage contract is

over. That day you saw us together,

it was the first time I saw her

in months. She told me to go after you.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I don’t think it’s enough

explanation. But I hope it’s

enough for you to believe me

when I say I truly love you.

I’m so sure I want to waste as

many years as needed as long as

you forgive me. Please don’t leave,

I need you. Even when I don’t deserve

it.

✓ ✓

You don’t cry, you don’t panic, you don’t even blink. You just lock the phone and set it aside. Your eyes locked on the ceiling as you start drifting off, succumbing to sleep.

…

It could’ve been any other day. But it was raining when you decided to drop the final papers to withdraw from the study abroad program and return home. The apartment was a mess, half of it already packed up inside carton boxes and the other half resting as if nothing was happening.

The decision was not properly made, that was clear.

Your head was a disaster, a swimming mess.

Your life has been quite boring but comforting ever since you entered your teenage years. Never in your wildest dreams, you thought you would be stressing over a failed relationship where the man was married.

Three months after that embarrassing night at the restaurant, you are in a very different place and situation.

The rain has stopped, the sun peaks between grey clouds but the streets are still a wet mess.

You avoid the puddles of water that form across the sidewalk. Your cable earphones get tangled with the bunch of papers in your arms. It’s annoying until you slow down to take them off and hold the papers properly.

You bump into someone. The altercation being a little violent makes you almost fall to your knees, but the stranger holds your shoulders.

And the papers fall from your hands, drenching in the water.

“Fuck…” you whisper, hurrying to kneel, not caring that your knees get wet, you can only save the top papers. You see the hands of the stranger also trying to save them. That’s when you look up at the stranger.

Without a warning you end up smiling, Jeong-won smiles back at the instant. Both of you chuckle.

The half-drenched papers slip from your hands again, completely drowning in the puddle of water.

“Is it too late?” He asks.

“For what?”

“For begging you to stay with me…” your hands snake to grab his. He had a black turtleneck sweater and a jacket hanging over his shoulder. He looked painfully gorgeous.

You think about all those hours you spent re-reading his messages.

“I think you have begged enough” you reply.

Needless to say… you just know it was meant to happen.

Your arms lock around his neck and it’s you the one kissing him. Jeong-won mentally sighs, feeling relieved and renewed.

You can feel his arms embracing you tightly, as if scared you would slip away from him again.

Out of breath, he rests his forehead against yours, witnessing how the pain slowly washed away.

“It’s okay…” you almost whisper, he nods, briefly smiling. “Jeong-won, let's go home”

You knew he understood. Both of you knew home was wherever the two of you were together.

…

The heat was slowly building up. The windows started to remain open all day and night. Jeong-won was slightly stressed out, he had an upcoming trip and was in a mall, outside of a candle store.

His phone was almost burning when he realized the day was indeed hot.

“Jeong-won?” He turns only to encounter In-ji, smiling brightly at him.

“In-ji…”

His ex-wife appeared upon him, looking gorgeous. She looked happy, with her long hair now dyed chocolate brown.

“How are you?” He asked giving her a quick hug. “I haven’t seen you in… a long time”

It had been a year, to be exact.

“What happened with y/n?” She asks straight to the point and Jeong-won chuckles. “Why are you laughing?”

“It was bad… Remember?” In-ji nods, then he points at a woman squatting while looking at candles inside the store.

It was you, wearing a sundress that hunched over the floor. A purse hanging from your shoulder with many keychains. And when you stood up and turned to the side, In-ji noticed your left arm was also busy, holding a newborn baby.

“HAN JEONG-WON, YOU HAD A BABY?” the man starts laughing while nodding. “Oh my goddess! Congratulations!”

“I can’t believe it myself” he admits after accepting the hug In-ji gave him.

It felt nice to see her. She was right, they functioned better as friends.

“It’s a girl, right? What’s her name?” His eyes brightened at the subject.

Jeong-won had a baby with you…

“She has two names. June Iseul” the name of the baby rolled over his tongue and he found himself smiling again.

June Iseul was born in the peak of the winter, weighing and measuring less than expected, with matted raven hair and grey irises that were slowly becoming like yours but shaped just like her father’s.

“That’s adorable!” In-hi admitted, feeling awe at the sight of the baby in your arms, wearing a rainbow onesie.

“And I guess you married her?” Jeong-won huffed.

You never denied how June Iseul had been an accident. She came to slow down your academic career, she also made you gain weight and lose some hair but her arrival amidst winter gave you half a year to recover. You felt amazing and June Iseul was growing healthy.

Jeong-won was happier than ever. He was just a little worried about the reason why they were in the mall. Your parents were slightly mad and very confused as to why you left home being single and a full-time student and you were going to visit them being a part-time student, with a boyfriend and a baby.

Jeong-won was nervous, excited, and eager to marry you.

“Well… happens that y/n doesn’t fully believe in traditional marriage. I’ve asked her on multiple occasions but she keeps saying that we shouldn’t push it yet” Jeong-won admits rolling his eyes, she chuckles, turning her head to see you invested in the newborn section. “She’s very smart”

“She is…” he agrees, joining the chuckles and smiling like an idiot at the sight of you with his daughter.

“Well I didn’t have a baby, but I got married” In-ji revealed, making Jeong-won almost gag.

“What? When?”

“Two weeks ago. I met him in Thailand and… I don’t know. I’m just… very happy” Both smiled, feeling in peace knowing everyone had moved on. “I’m happy for you, Jeong-won. I can tell you are living a dream”

“I’m also happy for you…” both smiled at each other.

…

An hour later, you are done shopping and the most important thing is in your hands; a stroller for June Iseul.

Jeong-won pushed the stroller as both of you walked towards a pasta restaurant.

“It sucks that you got me pregnant before my twenties ended. I should be in the club!” you object, exaggerating. You can hear Jeong-won huffing in disbelief.

“You literally go out to the club every week!”

He was right. Your life pretty much remained the same.

“And that’s one more reason I love you so much”

Even with the arrival of June Iseul, Jeong-won had no problems with staying with the baby while you attended classes or decided to hang out with your friends. He used to have a lot of free time, but now… he found the perfect routine.

“What are we ordering?” He asks, grabbing a menu as you both wait your turn to order and pay.

“You pick the pasta and I want a pizza with truffle oil. What do you say?” You negotiate with a smile.

He gets so lost in your beautiful face that he ends up smiling back like an idiot.

“What?” You ask again, chuckling at his silly face. “Nothing, I just love you so much”

You blush. And before you can say anything.

You hear some coos.

“I’ll order, you pick a table and feed Junjun” Jeong-won reassures you, knowing very well his daughter was demanding and using the silly nickname he had given her.

You take a seat at a secluded table and turn the stroller so you can uncover it.

June Iseul was awake.

“Hello, little blossom” she smiled and it melted your heart. “I know you’re hungry…”

She was very small and soft. She had that baby smell but as her mother, you thought your baby smelled perfectly compared to the others.

She locked her eyes with yours as you breastfed her, not caring about the attention because your back was facing the world, and the table was secluded enough to cover you.

June Iseul’s pale skin resembled her father’s, making her look a little like a porcelain doll. Like the one your friend Jade gifted her from Japan months ago.

The doll was very sophisticated and rested along with some baby books and toys.

“Your father isn’t very good at conversations with strangers, right?” You ask your baby as you pull her out of the stroller and into your chest. Your boyfriend seemed to awkwardly be exchanging words with the woman taking the order. It made you chuckle.

After a long night talking and him telling you every single detail of his life, everything changed.

Just when he got a little house in a modest neighborhood and asked you to move in, you accidentally got pregnant.

What seemed like a challenge turned out to be easier than expected. Jeong-won had been the perfect partner all along.

Ignoring the judgment from your peers in classes after you waddled around campus with a baby bump, everything was perfect.

Also ignoring all the insults you threw to Jeong-won while he held your hand in the delivery room, everything was perfect.

So seeing him come with the receipt of the order and taking June Iseul from your arms to burp her made you realize how lucky you were.

How fucked up things were until they weren’t.

You have a boyfriend begging you to marry him and a perfect baby that looks like him. Both are in wait to visit your homeland and parents for the first time.

The flash of your phone pulls Jeong-won out of his trance with June Iseul.

“Are you taking us a picture?” he asks.

“Yes, you both look so adorable” you admit looking at the screen. June Iseul perfectly locked eyes with his father and you captured it in a picture.

You would print it, use it as your lock screen, and send it to your friends.

Ruby immediately replies in the group chat, then Jade, and lastly Seoun-mi.

Rubz <3 ׂ╰┈➤

DILF + adorable baby spotted!!!!

Jadore ׂ╰┈➤

Is that the onesie I bought her?

June Iseul my baby 🩷🩷🩷

misu :) ׂ╰┈➤

Tell Jeong-won he’s not

holding her neck properly:)

misu:) ׂ╰┈➤

I love her <3

you ׂ╰┈➤

Everyone gets In-N-Out and

animal fries after we come

back to Korea (cold ofc)

you ׂ╰┈➤

For being such a good

trio of aunts 💋

You lock your phone with a smile on your face as you stand up.

“Where are you going?” Jeong-won asks.

“To wash my hands, silly” You lean forward to kiss him briefly and you can feel him smiling amidst the kiss.

It’s inappropriate but since the table is secluded, you feel playful enough to add tongue and have a little touch with his.

And then you remember your daughter is in the middle of you two and had just burped.

“She spilled some milk…” Jeong-won hurriedly says, breaking the kiss.

You chuckle and kiss your daughter’s matted hair.

“Then clean her, Jeong-won,” you say before leaving to finally wash your hands. As your steps grow further, you can hear your boyfriend talking in Korean with June Iseul.

“Your mother is a little spitfire. That’s why I want to marry her…”

There’s an embarrassing smile on your face when you look at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

___________________________

Taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @czarinera @dovediva @dreamersparacosm @girlythings111 @love2fangirl @migueloharassoulmate @fangirl4lifetime @wonallofme @otakusimp1 @muchwita @preppyfella @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[mxltifxnd0m]

sweet smiles and sweaters ── . ✶ s. winchester

summary: you want to be close to sam as possible, which means you might crawl into his old hoodie... with him in it

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x gn! reader warnings: no use of 'y/n', fluff, pure fluff, like tooth-rottingly sweet, word count: 1.3K a/n: this is just me being obsessed with sam bc who isn't?? but this was inspired by a video i saw on my feed lol hope you guys enjoy this fluffy fic with sam hehe <3 sam winchester masterlist

IT WAS SCARY how fast you fell for Sam. But how could you not? Sam’s smile never failed to make your stomach flutter whenever he aimed it your way. Oh, and how could you forget to mention the adorable dimples that appeared when he smiled brightly and never failed to make you melt in your seat. You could feel your heartbeat race at the sound of his loud and boisterous laugh when you said something funny and couldn’t help but laugh along with him; his laugh was the best type of pick-me-up you could ever ask for. 

Sam’s mind was one that you always admired; he was brilliant, and you always loved to hear what he had researched for the hunt you guys were on. You loved hearing him talk; the low timbre of his voice never failed to fill your veins with warmth as you stared at him as he spoke—no doubt with love in your eyes; you always smiled and nodded along as he spoke. 

Sam made you feel in a way that you never had experienced before—and it scared you. You never entertained the thought of the chance of him reciprocating your feelings because you thought he could never see you as more than as a friend, someone he hunts with, and someone to confide in—but not be in a relationship with.

The thought of confessing to him made your stomach churn and twist into knots (a rejection from Sam would probably hurt more than the time you were thrown down a flight of stairs by a vengeful spirit on a hunt). Besides, there was no way you were risking messing up the friendship you had established with him, nor with the dynamic you had with the brothers. 

So, your plan of shutting up about your feelings was your best bet to save you from messing everything up until Sam came in with a sledgehammer (a metaphorical one, of course) and shattered it completely. 

The two of you were chatting quietly through a movie (a terrible one at that) that was playing on the TV in the motel room the three of you were sharing. Dean was out at the nearest bar, and Sam was sitting next to you, his shoulder against yours. You chuckled at the joke he had made about the flimsy plot. You looked at Sam as your laughing subsided, seeing a soft smile on his face as he looked at you—fondness glinting in his hazel gaze. 

Sam unconsciously leaned toward you, his hand coming to rest against your face and his thumb swiping against your cheek softly. You couldn’t help but lean into the warmth of his hand, but you were slightly confused at the action. You didn’t verbalize it, not wanting to break the spell Sam had put you under. 

His eyes flicked from yours to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “Can I kiss you?” Sam’s breath was fanning over yours, resting his forehead against your own. 

You didn’t realize how close he had gotten but gave him a soft smile. “Yeah.” You murmured. 

Sam mirrored your smile before placing his lips on yours, drawing you in for the sweetest kiss you had ever gotten in your life (until that moment, of course). Your eyes fluttered shut when Sam kissed you, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours.

You were convinced that you were dreaming, but the warmth of Sam’s palm against your cheek told you that this was very much real and Sam was kissing you. It seemed to have lasted forever, but Sam pulled away from you slowly like he was reluctant to part from your lips. But he didn’t stray far; his forehead was still resting against yours.

You could feel your lips stretch into a broad smile, feeling giddy at the fact that Sam just kissed you. You slowly peeled your eyes open to see your favorite sight, Sam beaming down at you—something akin to love coloring his gaze as the two of you locked eyes with one another. 

Dean had a shit-eating grin on his face when the two of you woke up the following day after you guys had shared your first kiss but congratulated the both of you for finally getting over your fears and getting together. 

Now, you were at the table in another motel room, on another hunt in a random town in the Midwest, researching and typing away at your laptop. You couldn’t help but cast glances at your boyfriend, who was lying on your shared bed, his back against the headboard, as he flipped through one of the lore books he was able to check out from the library in this town. Sam’s brows were slightly furrowed, and you wanted to smooth out the wrinkle between his brows with either your fingers or a kiss. 

You smiled at the thought as you continued to look at Sam. He was wearing an old, worn Stanford hoodie that rarely saw the light of day, having been at the bottom of his duffle bag since he left university. You looked back at your laptop; you hadn’t found anything useful before looking back at him. You smirked to yourself before closing your laptop and getting up from the table you were hunched over for the past hour. 

Your hands went above your head, stretching out the stiff muscles in your shoulders and back before you padded over to the end of the bed where Sam was reading. He hadn’t noticed that you were there until you started to crawl onto the bed and towards him. 

Sam glanced up from the book to see your smirking face as you climbed up his body. “What are you doing?” He asked with a confused smile on his face. 

You didn’t bother with answering him verbally; you just shot him a sly smile before lifting the hem of the red hoodie he was wearing and crawling into it head first. 

Sam let out a shocked laugh, and an exclamation of your name fell from his lips. The book he was reading fell from his grip as you shimmied your way up his sweater. Sam squirmed slightly as your body shifted up his, plastering yourself against his. You eventually got your head through the top of the sweater, now being nose to nose with your darling boyfriend. 

“Hi.” You greeted him with a wide grin. 

“Hi.” Sam chuckled at your antics. His hand came to rest on your back as you straddled his body. “Is there any reason why you’re in my sweater with me?” 

“Do I need a reason to be close to my boyfriend?” 

“I suppose not, but you could have done without almost suffocating yourself in my hoodie.” 

You shook your head. “Nope, this is way more comfortable.” 

Sam let out a chuckle at your words, shaking his head. “Okay then honey.” 

“To answer your question, I was bored and I felt like it.” You weren’t exactly lying. Doing research on your laptop had lost its charm when you kept hitting dead end after dead end. But you weren’t going to admit that you just wanted to be as close to him as possible (there were days that you wanted to crawl into his skin, but you weren’t going to address that thought any time soon). 

“You got bored doing research didn’t you?” 

“Yep.” You popped the ‘p’ as you answered Sam, and he shook his head at you. 

He kissed your forehead, and your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his lips on your skin. Sam pulled back slightly before kissing you. You sunk into the kiss before he pulled back, placing another peck on your lips. 

“Are you going to stay there the entire time?” Sam asked you as he picked up the book from the bed. 

You nodded. 

“Will that be comfortable for you?” Sam had a slight frown on his lips. Not that he didn’t love having you this close to him, but he didn’t think that his sweater was big enough for the both of you. 

“I’ll be fine.” You told him before shifting downwards slightly, resting your head on his collarbone, and closing your eyes. 

Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you through the opening of his sweater. He kissed your forehead again before going back to reading. 

[join my taglist !; read rules before sending in an ask]

[liliallowed]

continuation of prev fic: (post credit scene if you will)

y/n: what was that?

dust: an eves dropping fly.

y/n: weren't you going out to look for that... demon thing of yours?

dust: yeah. I'm done. I caught them! [grabbing the red struggling heart]

y/n: you literally just left the place how did you...

dust: magic! also you can leave now. it's safe.

y/n: huh?

dust: yeah. thanks for being the bait! really helped out with the whole anomaly tracking.

y/n: me?

dust: yep. anyways see you later. I'm off to put this thing in a place where it can't commit suicide to reset the world real quick.

y/n:????

[babeyun]

falling alone ✩ l.hs [m]

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

Friday, 9:23PM.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't feel much, actually." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tuck in your shirt."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saturday, 10:32am.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I won't be long, I promise." 

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

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

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

"Maybe. Drive safe."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You love him so selflessly.

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

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

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

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

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

Tuesday, 6:23pm.

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

Duty called, after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday, 12:46pm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you."

Saturday, 6:43pm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He likes this. He could get used to it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why the attitude, princess? Something wrong?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Monday, 5:32am.

He did promise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come in!”

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

“I’m Dr. Lee. You must be—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Before that, Cha Soyoung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It looked so easy for them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something in your heart doesn't feel right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The rest? History.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friday, 3:40pm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The line rings three times before Heeseung picks up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes well with tears as she looks away.

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

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

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

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

Her gaze meets yours, surprised. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Monday, 6:32pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cha Residence, Seonmi speaking." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tuesday, 12:33pm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dr. Lee was a pertinent witness to the entire case, and had she not been involved, had she not said something, Mrs. Jeon's case would've remained open and no one would know of her whereabouts. Her family had been in absolute shambles for the last nine years, and frankly, as harsh as it sounds, I'm glad that it's finally over. Dr. Lee is not to blame for whatever upset feelings Mrs. Jeon may have, or whatever resentment she may have towards myself. If she wants to drag anyone through the dirt, she might as well drag me. Dr. Lee is entirely innocent in this, she was a huge stepping stone in bridging crucial pieces of information together and restoring the Cha family. In other words, keep my wife's name out of your mouth unless you're praising her. I'm tired of hearing this, so I have nothing more to say on the matter."

Your eyes are wide as he shrugs, before the reporter who spotted you makes a few moves up the steps, trying not to alert anyone else. You tilt your head at her, and she quietly steps up to you. She holds her recorder up slightly, and you nod, beckoning her closer with your hand.

"Dr. Lee, how do you feel about Lieutenant Lee coming to your defense amongst the influx of hate from netizens?" You lean down to her to speak into the small microphone, clearing your throat. "I think Lieutenant Lee is one of the most kind-hearted, driven, loving people in my life. There's a reason he's my husband, you know. I couldn't ask for a better man." The reporter's eyes soften as Heeseung turns around, bidding the reporters a goodbye as he buttons his coat up, trekking back up the stairs. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours as you give him a little wave. He walks up to you, giving the reporter a curt nod before slipping his fingers in yours. 

The reporter gives you a soft thank you, before walking down the steps. You let Heeseung guide you up the steps, and glance over your shoulder to see reporters taking photos of the two of you from behind. You nudge him with your elbow, and he looks down at you. "Yes?" "Kiss me." You tilt your head towards the reporters, and he snorts as the two of you reach the doors. "You sure?" "Positive." You nod as you pull your mask off, the camera flashes almost blinding as they watch you press your lips to Heeseung's, his arm wrapping around your waist as his hand cradles your cheek. Your lipstick stains his mouth as you pull away, and you give the reporters a cheeky thumbs up as he pulls you into the courthouse.

Sunoo's eyes are wide as you walk into his quarters with Heeseung, your lipstick now also stamped on his cheek from a kiss you gave him in the hallway. He smiles warmly as you offer a hug, embracing you tightly. "God, it's so nice to see you in love." He murmurs into your hair, patting your back before you all take a seat at his desk. The three of you are going over the options for lunch when you hear a knock at the door, your head whipping around to see your mother entering the office. Your eyes widen, and Heeseung is up before you know it. He's greeting her warmly, her face remaining stoic as he takes her coat. She looks tired, and you stand on shaky legs.

"Hello, Mother." You say softly, your eyes flickering to Heeseung and Sunoo as they stand to the side. She steps in front of you, her eyes scanning you carefully. You wince as she steps slightly closer, only for her to breathe out softly.

"I wanted to speak to you earlier this week, amidst everything in the media. However, I'm too prolific and I worried I'd be followed to your home, so I left a few messages on your answering machine. I assume you didn't receive them, so is now a good time?" She's still professional, your mother had no idea how to be comforting or warm. You nod slowly, shoving your trembling hands into your coat. "S-Sure. Yeah, we can talk." Your mother had never cared who was around when she spoke to you about anything. It was one of the more mortifying things about her, but she made up for it by keeping her voice quiet enough that only you could hear her.

"May I touch you?" She asks with a twinge in her voice you'd never heard, and you nod slowly. "Okay." She doesn't wait for another second, throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a tight embrace. Your eyes are wide as you look at Heeseung and Sunoo, their own the size of saucers as you awkwardly wrap your arms around her. "Are you…alright?" "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I read everything that you said in your interviews, about Chaeyoung and her reasons behind leaving, and how deeply you understood her dilemma. I never realized I was pushing you away, and I'm incredibly sorry if I ever made you feel like I wasn't supportive of your dreams or career choices. I know that this may be a too little, too late sort of situation, but I couldn't let more time go by without letting you know how proud I am of you and everything you've accomplished, not just as a professional but as a woman, as my daughter, as a wife."

Your eyes are stinging with tears as Heeseung's jaw drops, your mother pulling back to cup your face in her hands. "And I'll sue that little bitch for all she has for dragging you through the mud. I'll do it, I'll wring her dry of every asset she's ever acquired."

Her eyes are full of tears as you gape at her, before she presses a kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much, darling. I'm so, so sorry."

"Mom-" "I'm so glad to have you, darling. Please don't disappear on me, I promise you I cannot handle it." You let her pull you back into her embrace, the tears streaming down your cheeks before she pulls away quickly. "Alright, I've got a meeting I'm running late to. I just saw you in the window and I needed to pop in and talk to you. As you were, I'll give you a call later." She gives the three of you a curt nod, before taking her coat and skirting back out of Sunoo's office.

The three of you are silent, your arms wrapped around yourself as you cover your mouth with your hand. You don't wipe your tears as they stream down, and you look up at the men staring at you in shock. "She said she's proud of me." You whine suddenly, and Heeseung lets out a soft laugh as you walk into his embrace, Sunoo smiling to himself as Heeseung strokes your hair, sharing a glance with his long-time friend as you sob into his shirt. "Oh, my baby. You deserve all that and more."

"Should we push the meeting? I think we've got a lot of big feelings to work out, Dr. Lee." Sunoo speaks up gently, and you pout as Heeseung agrees before you can say anything. You mumble out an apology, but Sunoo shakes his head, waving you off. "Let me lead you out the backway, those reporters would have a ball with your crying face."

"Shut up, Sunoo." You scoff, making him snicker as he leads you both out of his office, your head bowed as you let Heeseung hide you from onlookers. You both quietly thanked Sunoo as he opened the door for you and bid you farewell, saying he'd try and get everything done before Heeseung's allotted vacation time. They agreed to meet again on Thursday, with Sunoo giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

"Give yourself some more credit, Y/N. You deserve it."

Saturday, 4:44pm.

"You found it? You look so beautiful, holy shit." Heeseung was laid on the bed, held up by his elbows as you stood in front of the mirror, a quizzical look on your face as you clipped in your earrings. You purse your lips, turning to face him, the sarong skirt of the dress he'd made you swinging slightly.

"You sure? It's not too…showy?" You pout, running your hands over the soft white fabric. You'd dug this dress back out specifically for this occasion, renewing your vows with your husband on a simple vacation in the middle of nowhere. By middle of nowhere, you mean the same field he proposed to you in, two hours out of Seoul and likely full of flowers this time of year.

"Baby, it's just you and me. You can be as showy as you want in your dress, as bummy as you want in your sweatpants. You're fucking angelic." He pulls you to him by your hips, "I did great on this hem, you can't lie." "Wonderful, yes." You roll your eyes, feeling his hands snake under the skirt. You allow it, feeling your cheeks warm as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your hip. "Let me go down on you." You sigh, rubbing your temples as your husband presses a kiss to your cleavage. "Heeseung, the sun is going to set and we're going to be doing this in the dark." "Can I go down on you after?" He questions, not really paying attention as he stands, his hands low on your back as he pulls you to him. "Heeseung." "Two orgasms, right after we're done, on the hood of my car." He offers, making you snort. "One orgasm, after we're done, in the backseat." "I'll take it!" He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, making you giggle as he lands a soft smack to your ass. "Stop it!" "You love me! Now get your cute ass in the car, we've got shit to do."

And it feels easy. It feels light, sitting next to Heeseung as he pulls out of the driveway with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding your fingers tightly. It feels good, listening to your husband sing along softly to soft jazz songs on the radio before you plug in your phone, and then hearing him sing along to your playlists. It feels like getting a breath of fresh air when you see the afternoon sunlight beaming on his skin, his white shirt reflecting the light painfully into your eyes. It feels like the way your heart starts beating a little faster when you catch a whiff of his spicy cologne, your eyes falling on him with a soft smile. It feels like an emotional orgasm when he times playing No Song Without You by HONNE perfectly to when you arrive, your pout being kissed off frantically by your attentive, doting husband. It feels like falling in love when he holds you close, pressing his lips anywhere you'd allow him to as you both reach into your pockets for the thick packets of words you've written. It feels like falling in love when he goes off script, holding the papers in his hand as he looks into your eyes. It feels like falling in love when he kisses your tears off your face as you tell him how much you appreciate his changes, it feels like falling in love when he says you should never thank him for doing what's right. It feels like falling in love, when he pulls a box out of his pocket and presents yet another gold ring to add to your set, with your initials engraved on the outside.

It feels like falling in love with he suggests you both pick flowers from the field to press when you get home. It feels like falling in love when he holds your hand and pulls you close when you've wandered too far, it feels like falling in love when he's kissing you against the hood of his car. It feels like falling in love when he carries you into the backseat and you wind up naked in his lap, a whining and writhing mess as he tells you how pretty you are, how much he loves you, how bad he wants to get you pregnant so everyone knows you're his. It feels like falling in love, when on the ride home, he can't keep his hands off you.

It feels like falling in love, when he wastes no time getting you in the bedroom, your dress on the floor with his shirt and pants. It feels like falling in love when he draws a bath for the two of you, it feels like falling in love when he tells you I love you as he washes your hair, your body, your face.

It feels like falling in love again, but this time? You don't feel like you're falling alone.

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

TAGLIST: @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @petalsofink @teddybeartaetae @chocminteu @moon0fthenight @delvziion @heeseungthel0ml @bbyjw @isa942572, @304files, @seungjiseyo @gaytron3000 @melonvrs @yizhoutv @riribelle @swaggieee

[alsofoundinpeas]

No One's Ever Had Me (Not Like You)

Summary: After JJ's insensitive remarks toward Spencer become too much to ignore, Y/N steps in to comfort him, igniting a friendship that rapidly grows into something more. Though Y/N falls for him first, Spencer soon finds himself falling even harder, realizing no one has ever cared for him the way she does—and he's ready to return it in full.

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Oral/Facesitting (f!receiving), dirty talk, praise kink (if you squint), masturbating (m!only), fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex/PinV sex (wrap it before you tap it lovelies pls), c** swallowing (I don't know how else to put that HAHAHA), slight overstim (for both parties), slightly ooc!JJ (for the plot), one brief argument scene between the reader and JJ. Fluff and smut. Coworkers to friends to lovers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader/afab!reader

A/N: I love a little "she fell first, he fell harder" trope, so I'm hoping you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) I am once again pleading my case that I am NOT a JJ hater!! I just saw a clip of this scene from season 3 and was inspired because I too have been in Spencer's shoes and honestly it hurts, so I wanted to change up the outcome a little bit. The title comes from Taylor Swift's "So High School" but the fic isn't necessarily based around the song if that makes sense. As always, please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

Y/N had never been particularly fond of JJ. They worked well together, of course—professionalism came first—but there was something about JJ that rubbed her the wrong way. It felt so high school to say, but Y/N had always seen her as a bit of a "mean girl."

Y/N had joined the BAU a year after Spencer, and she’d witnessed firsthand the awkwardness when Spencer, shy and eager, had asked JJ to go to a football game with him as a date after Gideon had given him tickets. A sweet, innocent gesture, only for JJ to show up with Penelope in tow, turning the evening into a humiliating disaster for Spencer. That was just one of the many moments Y/N had found herself bristling at JJ's treatment of him. Despite JJ’s consistent indifference and occasional cruelty, Spencer’s feelings for her had never wavered. 

Until today.

Spencer sat across from JJ on the jet, eager to share his excitement about the book he was reading and its similarities with Pinocchio, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm as he rambled on. He barely noticed the lack of interest in JJ's eyes, her eyebrows raised in a near-sarcastic expression as she muttered a disinterested "Wow" in the middle of his sentence. She tossed the case file onto the table without a second glance and stood. "Interesting. Coffee?" she asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness, her smile a brittle, saccharine mask. 

Spencer froze, his words dying in his throat as she swiftly walked away. He felt a sinking sensation in his chest—an awkward mix of humiliation and disappointment. Was he that annoying? His hands trembled slightly as he glanced down at the book in his lap, the pages now feeling heavier than they had moments ago. He cleared his throat, but the discomfort lingered, thick in the air.

Y/N had been watching the whole exchange from her spot on the couch, her eyes narrowing as she watched JJ throw her head back in a loud laugh at something Morgan had said about “escaping the robot” from across the jet. That was the breaking point. Y/N's stomach twisted with frustration. She was tired—so tired—of watching JJ repeatedly gut the sweet boy simply because he had a hopeless crush on her, one that JJ clearly saw as beneath her.  

Swinging her legs from where they were tucked underneath her, Y/N stood and made her way to the seat JJ had previously been occupying, sliding into it abruptly.

Spencer’s head jerked up as she quickly filled the seat, blinking hard as confusion washed over his features. “Oh! Uh, hey Y/N… was there something you needed?” he asked softly, his gaze dropping back to the table, hoping she wouldn’t notice the wounded look in his eyes.

“I was listening to your conversation earlier and wanted to ask if you would continue. Please.”

Spencer’s mouth parted in surprise, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. She… wanted to listen to him? He swallowed, his brows furrowing slightly as he hesitated before speaking. “You... you don’t have to do that just to make me feel better, you know.”

Y/N shook her head firmly, her hands coming together on the table as she leaned in slightly, her eyes never leaving his. “Spencer,” she said softly, her voice steady. “I’m not asking you to continue because I feel sorry for you. I’m asking because I actually want to hear what you have to say.” Her tone was gentle yet sincere, and there was no mistaking the genuine interest in her words.

Spencer’s heart raced as he stared at her, his mind struggling to catch up with the moment before he finally opened his mouth, stumbling over the words to continue his excited rant from earlier. Spencer felt something shift inside him with every hum of acknowledgment, nod, and occasional question or light joke. It hit him all at once—this was how she always spoke to him: fully engaged, genuinely curious. She didn’t see him as the genius or the outcast. She saw him as... just Spencer. A person. Not a curiosity. Not a burden. Just him.

And for the rest of the flight, Y/N encouraged Spencer to spill every single thought that came to mind, entranced by the sweet boy in front of her for the entire time.

It was late when they finally landed, the team worn out and eager to get home. With quick goodbyes and Hotch’s promise of a day off tomorrow, the group trickled out of the office, one by one. When Spencer was left alone in the bullpen, he let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he sat at his desk under the guise of needing to look for something before leaving. His thoughts kept drifting back to the interaction with Y/N on the jet. He couldn’t shake it. And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why.

It wasn’t like they weren’t already friends—talking to her was nothing out of the ordinary. But something about their interaction today felt different. Maybe it was how quickly she’d stepped in when she saw he was hurt? Then again, the more Spencer thought about it, the more he realized that wasn’t all that unusual either. He’d often felt out of place—whether it was the team’s teasing that sometimes went too far, JJ’s backhanded compliments that left him more bewildered than flattered, or the officers who looked past him because of his age or appearance.

And every time, without fail, Y/N had been there. She was always the one picking up the pieces of his bruised confidence, offering him quiet support with nothing more than a kind word or a warm smile, never asking for anything in return.

“Spencer?” 

Spencer jumped, the unexpected voice pulling him out of his thoughts. He spun around in his seat, heart racing, to find Y/N standing there, her hands raised in a placating gesture. He’d thought she’d already left with the rest of the team, but apparently, he’d been wrong.  

“Whoa, take it easy—it's just me. Are you okay?” Y/N approached slowly, her expression softening with concern as Spencer took slow, deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart.

“Uh, yeah! I-I’m fine,” Spencer stammered, wincing as his voice cracked. “I just… I thought everyone had already left.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said with a chuckle, flashing a sheepish grin. “I told Hotch I’d drop everything off in evidence before heading out, but I kind of took my time.” She shrugged, then glanced at him. “What about you? Why are you still here?”

Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing as he thought about her question. What was he still doing here, other than overthinking a simple conversation on the jet? He cleared his throat and stood up from his desk. “I thought I left a certain book here, but... it turns out it’s actually at home.” The weak excuse was followed by a nervous laugh as Spencer fidgeted with his fingers, silently hoping she wouldn’t question him further. 

It seemed luck was on his side, as she nodded slowly—her disbelief clear, but deciding not to press. Instead, she offered a soft smile and tilted her head toward the elevator. “Well, if you're heading out now, would you like to walk with me to my car?” Y/N asked, her voice laced with a hint of hope. “I can give you a ride so you don’t have to take the metro so late.”

Spencer was momentarily surprised by the offer, but before he could overanalyze it, he found himself nodding. She’d offered him rides before, and he’d always turned her down, worried he’d be inconveniencing her or that she was just being polite. But tonight, after the grueling case, he felt too drained to talk himself out of it. Honestly, he wasn’t opposed to spending a little more time with her—just the two of them.

“Um… that would be really nice, actually. Thank you.” 

Y/N waved it off with a playful grin. “It’s really no big deal, Spencer. I honestly wish you'd take me up on it more often. I worry about you on those late trains, and I live just five minutes from you. It’d be nice to have some company on the way home.” 

They continued their light conversation the entire way to the parking garage, pausing only when they got to her car. Y/N fumbled with her keys, unlocking the doors quickly before they slid inside.

The first thing Spencer noticed was the sweet fragrance of her perfume, filling the small space around them. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but now he found himself trying hard not to breathe in too deeply, captivated by the scent and wanting more of it. The smell of her shampoo blended with the fragrance, intensifying as she turned her head to back out of her parking spot. Spencer hadn’t even realized the car had started until that moment.

The next thing he noticed was the sticker on her dash reading Amor Fati. A faint smile curled at his lips as he shifted his gaze to her. He watched her silently for a moment as she focused on the road.

“Lover of fate, huh?”

“Hm?” Y/N frowned in confusion, shooting him a quick sideways glance as she stopped at a red light. It took a moment before she realized what he was referring to. “Oh, yeah. What about it, doc?” She chuckled, her voice light and teasing.

Spencer hummed, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, nothing… But, did you know that Friedrich Nietzsche built most of his philosophy around that phrase?”

They plunged into a lively conversation, exchanging thoughts on various philosophers and their personal interpretations of the phrase. Spencer was captivated. The only other person who had ever indulged him in such “nerdy” discussions was Penelope (mostly about Doctor Who, of course). It was oddly refreshing, but at the same time, it only added fuel to the fire of his overthinking.

What was it that kept him so hopelessly fixated on JJ? She could be a good friend at times—he wouldn’t deny that—but there were moments when he felt like nothing more than a charity case. Like that kid who clings to someone at school, oblivious to the fact that they don’t actually want to talk to them. She was beautiful, of course—anyone could see that. But they didn’t share much in common, and their hobbies barely aligned. So why did he always end up seeking her out, when there were so many other people he could spend time with?

After the incident on the jet, Spencer had made a decision. He was done pouring so much energy into the blonde liaison and instead would focus on building a genuine friendship with Y/N. Not just the casual co-worker relationship they had, but something real. Maybe that’s why her sudden attention on the jet had caught him off guard. Maybe it wasn’t a crush forming, but rather a deep-rooted loneliness, a subconscious desire for a true friend. That had to be it.

The drive to his apartment seemed to fly by, and as Spencer stepped out of the car, he was surprised by the sense of reluctance that settled over him. He murmured his thanks and goodnight to Y/N, offering a shy smile, his thoughts lingering on the brief but unexpected moment of connection.

"Hey, Spencer?" Y/N called just as he was about to close the door. He paused, and she went on, her tone genuine. "I meant what I said. If you ever want to skip the metro and ride with me instead, I’d love the company. Honestly, I enjoyed our drive so much more than the usual Top 40 hits on the radio."

Spencer’s smile grew, a hesitant nod accompanying the soft bite of his lower lip. This was the opportunity to build something real with her, and for once, he decided not to second-guess it. “I’d really like that, actually.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, a blend of relief and excitement bubbling up inside her. A smile spread across her face as she let out a soft breath. "Great. I’m looking forward to it," she said, her voice warm. "Goodnight, Spencer. Enjoy your day off tomorrow."

The first week of Spencer’s newfound behavior had Y/N feeling… disoriented, for lack of a better term. It wasn’t a bad feeling, not at all. She was genuinely thrilled by the extra attention, but she couldn’t quite figure out what had caused the sudden shift in their dynamic.

Spencer had begun riding home with her after work, both of them quickly growing fond of the newfound companionship. Throughout the day, he found himself gravitating toward her desk more often, offering to help with paperwork or providing a second opinion when she second guessed something. As they spent more time together, their conversations became easier—what had started as awkward exchanges soon evolved into Spencer initiating talks, no longer waiting for her to take the lead.

The irritated huff that escaped JJ’s lips as she stormed past everyone and into her office after Spencer politely declined her offer to sit with her and sort through case files, made it clear—Y/N wasn’t the only one noticing the change.

The next notable shift came when the BAU was called to California for a case. As everyone filed onto the jet and took their usual seats, there was one exception: Spencer Reid. When Y/N settled onto the couch, she was greeted by a soft, uncertain voice.

“Can I join you?” Spencer asked, his fingers nervously tugging at the end of his cardigan sleeves as he blinked at her with those sweet, vulnerable brown eyes.

The entire team glanced up in surprise, caught off guard by Spencer's decision not to take his usual spot across from JJ. Y/N, both puzzled and pleased, quickly moved to make space, patting the seat beside her with an encouraging smile.

"Of course, Spence. Go right ahead."

Spencer let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders drooping in relief as he settled into the seat next to Y/N, the tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying easing from his body. Ignoring the gawking from the others, he leaned in slightly, feeling more at ease in her presence. As Y/N opened the case file, he glanced at her with a small smile, ready to dive into the work with her by his side.

Morgan chuckled from across the jet, looking at JJ with raised brows as she scoffed to herself. "What'd you do to piss off the kid?"

“I didn’t do anything! And when did she start calling him ‘Spence’?” JJ grumbled, her arms crossed defensively as she narrowed her eyes at the two of them.

“Whoa,” Morgan muttered, his smile dropping into a frown. “Didn’t realize I was hitting a sore spot. What’s it matter what she calls him, anyway?”

JJ stiffened, her words catching in her throat as she struggled to respond. Morgan was right—she wasn’t the only one who could give Spencer a nickname. But that was her name for him, and it stung a little more now, given the distance that had been growing between them.

"It’s nothing," JJ replied quickly, forcing a casual shrug. "I was just surprised, that’s all." But even as she spoke, she couldn’t shake the unease lingering in her chest, unsure why it bothered her so much.

The remainder of the flight was spent with the team discussing the case, Hotch assigning tasks for when they touched down. Once they had gone over everything they could, the conversation tapered off, and silence settled over the cabin. Each team member retreated into their own thoughts, but Y/N and Spencer remained deep in discussion, quietly exchanging ideas about the unsub.

As they leaned in to continue their conversation, they unknowingly inched closer, drawn together by the ease of their shared focus. And when Spencer felt Y/N's knee brush against his, he kept his leg still, savoring the contact in silence—his secret to keep.

It took Spencer just over two months to finally gather the courage to ask Y/N to hang out outside of work or their shared car rides—something he had started contributing to so he could get more comfortable with driving. She’d quickly climbed the ranks of people he favored and felt comfortable with, but the fear of rejection still held him back. He didn’t want to jeopardize the connection they’d built, especially when it felt so important to him.

Spencer’s fear dissolved when he asked Y/N to come over and watch a film he’d picked up at an antique shop. Her excited smile and enthusiastic "Duh, I'd love to!" made him realize that she’d likely been waiting for him to take the first step all along.

He was grateful for how Y/N allowed him to move at his own pace, understanding that his accelerated path through high school and college had made it difficult for him to form connections. She never rushed him, giving him the space to open up when he was ready and letting their relationship develop naturally.

Y/N arrived at Spencer’s apartment, her arms loaded with snacks and dressed in cozy clothes, her excitement palpable. She enjoyed their car rides, of course, but an hour together hardly seemed enough compared to the time she truly longed to spend with him.

Y/N had been captivated by Spencer for years, but the more time they spent together, the harder her heart beat for him—every smile, every laugh, every conversation only added to her growing feelings. She told herself she was content with just being friends, that having him in her life, even in the smallest way, was enough. But deep down, she knew the truth—her heart yearned for something more, something that seemed just out of reach.

"Y/N! Hi, welcome in!"

The door swung open to reveal Spencer, his grin wide with excitement as he motioned for her to step inside. The sight of him—beaming with an almost childlike enthusiasm—made her smile in return. His apartment matched her expectations in the best way possible: shelves overflowing with books and quirky knick-knacks, soft, ambient light spilling from lamps that cast a cozy glow across the room, and a desk strewn with an organized mess of case files and open journals. It was a perfect reflection of Spencer—intellectually chaotic, but with an undeniable charm and warmth.

Spencer's heart skipped a beat as she entered the living room, and for a moment, he lost track of everything around him. He had always seen her dressed up for work—polished, professional, a perfect image of control. But now, in her casual clothes, with her hair down and no hint of the usual makeup, she looked entirely different.

She was still stunning, but it was a softer kind of beauty, one that crept up on him and left him breathless before he even realized it. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable at first glance, but once he took her in, he couldn’t seem to pull his focus away. Spencer had always thought he knew Y/N, but this version of her… this version felt like a secret he wasn’t ready to discover yet.

"Where would you like these?" Y/N asked, lifting her arms up with the snacks.

The sound of her voice broke Spencer from his daze, and he quickly moved to help, grabbing a few items to set them down on the coffee table. "Oh, uh, you didn’t have to bring snacks," he stammered, his hands fumbling with the food as he awkwardly rearranged it. "I was just going to order takeout or something. You’re the guest," he added, his words tumbling out in a nervous rush. His mind was racing, still caught in the subtle sweetness of her perfume that lingered in the air as he leaned in to grab the bags, making it hard to focus.

Y/N shrugged, a small grin playing on her lips as she set the snacks down. "I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And if you’re still craving takeout later, I won't stop you from ordering it. Sound good?"

He nodded, his nose twitching as he grinned, feeling his tension ease. It was just Y/N, he reminded himself. There was no reason to feel this flustered.

An hour later, with the movie playing and a bag of gummy bears between them, Spencer quickly realized he'd been wrong. He had plenty of reasons to feel flustered.

The film, which had subtitles, was riddled with translation errors. Each time a jumbled sentence appeared, Y/N would lean in close, her breath warm against his ear causing shivers up and down his spine as she whispered, "What does that one mean?" Her thigh brushed against his, neither of them making any effort to break the contact. Spencer felt an almost electric warmth spread through him from the slight touch, his body aching for more. Was he really that starved for affection?

That night seemed to crack something deep inside him, like a dam giving way to a flood of longing for touch.

Spencer—who had always been wary of physical contact—now found himself drawn to Y/N in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Every time they handed each other papers or worked on case files together, he’d make sure their fingers brushed. As he passed by her desk, he’d let his fingers trace along her shoulder blades, offering her a quiet smile that she always returned. After particularly exhausting days, he’d seek her out, leaning into her embrace, letting her arms offer him comfort and grounding. And during their hangouts, Spencer no longer hesitated to inch closer, letting his side press against hers, or allowing her to stretch her legs over his lap. The proximity felt natural, and he couldn’t help but crave it more.

It only got worse as time went on. He couldn't keep his hands off of her. It wasn't just casual touches anymore—it was almost as if every opportunity to be near her was a chance to close the distance between them. Y/N couldn't get enough of it. And the team? They definitely noticed. JJ, in particular, seemed to pick up on it right away.

JJ had attempted to confront Spencer about his growing closeness with Y/N before, but each time, he waved her off, insisting that he and Y/N had simply discovered they had more in common than he'd realized and that he just wanted to be her friend. JJ wasn’t convinced—not for a second. It was obvious to her that Spencer was falling for Y/N, and for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, it left a bad taste in her mouth. It wasn’t that she harbored romantic feelings for him, but she had grown accustomed to his attention. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed being the one to receive it.

The tension finally boiled over when the team was dispatched to a case in Oregon.

It had been six months since the incident on the jet, and Y/N and Spencer had become almost inseparable. Garcia and Morgan, delighted by their closeness, often teased them and playfully begged them to just admit they were dating—though both vehemently insisted that their relationship was purely platonic. Rossi and Emily often exchanged knowing looks on the jet, with Emily even going so far as to snap a picture of Y/N and Spencer sleeping on the couch after a case—a cute picture featuring Spencer’s head resting on Y/N’s and her face tucked into his shoulder as they peacefully dozed together. Even Hotch seemed to approve, having reviewed the Bureau’s internal fraternization policies just in case Strauss raised an issue. The only person who didn’t seem thrilled about it was JJ.

Two days in Oregon, and the team was already facing an uphill battle. They’d been working non-stop to build a profile for the unsub, but so far, nothing had gone right. There were no witnesses who could provide a description, a local officer had already compromised key evidence from the first crime scene, and the victims seemed to have no clear link to one another. Frustration was mounting for everyone, but for JJ it was mounting for an entirely separate reason.

Spencer had been managing his frustration through subtle touches with Y/N—brief brushes of his hand against her lower back as he passed, pressing his head into her shoulder with a frustrated groan after combing through their limited information for hours... But the moment that pushed JJ to her breaking point was when Spencer, noticing an officer staring at Y/N, pulled her possessively into him, his hand firmly gripping her waist until that officer left the room.

"Y/N?"

JJ's voice was tight as she stepped into the conference room the local officers had set up for the BAU to use during their case, spotting Y/N standing in front of the pinned-up map of the area as she studied the locations where the victims had been found. Spencer had just left, going to start more coffee for them since they were running low. The rest of the team was out in the field, reinvestigating the crime scenes for anything that may have been missed initially.

Y/N looked up, her brow furrowing as JJ closed the door. They weren’t close on a personal level, and Y/N couldn’t think of any reason, related to the case or otherwise, for JJ to want to speak with her alone.

"...Yes?"

JJ lingered near the end of the table, her arms crossed across her chest as she leveled Y/N with a look that immediately had her on edge. "I’m not trying to pry, but as his best friend, I have to ask… what’s going on between you and Spencer?" Her face was twisted in a scowl, her head tilting as she waited for a response.

Y/N's eyebrows nearly shot up into her hairline at that, a scoffed laugh leaving her lips before she could stop it. His best friend. Was she serious?

"Excuse me?"

"What's going on with you and Spencer?" JJ repeated, her voice deliberate. "Everyone’s noticed how he’s been acting—the constant touching, for one, is a bit much, don’t you think? He never wants to hang out with me anymore. It’s like he's all about you now. So, are you two seeing each other or what?"

Y/N turned to face JJ fully, her lips tightening into a thin line as she took a steadying breath. Her audacity was astounding, truly. The last thing she wanted today was to argue with this fucking—

"That's hilarious, Jennifer. Really," Y/N chuckled lowly, shaking her head. "Have you ever considered that maybe—just maybe—Spencer is an adult who can make his own decisions? I’m not the reason he doesn't want to spend time with you."

JJ stiffened at the mention of her name, scoffing in response. "Oh, clearly you have something to do with it. Before you started driving him home, he followed me around like a lost puppy. Now he barely even wants to be around me!"

That struck a nerve in Y/N, like a live wire finally sparked to life. A lost puppy? Was that truly how little she thought of him? Y/N's head tilted, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone as she spoke again.

"Don't you ever talk about Spencer like that again. He's not your fucking pet, Jennifer!"

Her voice was menacing as she stepped forward, grim satisfaction coursing through her as JJ stumbled backward.

"Spencer is a brilliant, capable man who’s never deserved the way you or anyone else have made him feel less than that. We’re not dating. But if we were, I wouldn’t be ashamed of him. Unlike you, who found the idea of a man like him adoring you repulsive instead of seeing it for the gift it was. Spencer Reid is a fucking treasure, and it’s entirely your fault you never realized how lucky you were to have his attention."

Y/N's face was flushed red with anger, her chest heaving as she seethed.

"So again, I have nothing to do with him not wanting to spend time with you anymore. Maybe he finally realized that you're just not as great of a person as you pretend to be."

Rather than waiting for the teary-eyed, speechless blonde to reply, Y/N grabbed her things and stormed out, heading out to take an early lunch. But as she swung the door open, she was met with Spencer standing right there, and before she could react, she collided with his chest. His hands immediately flew to her waist, steadying her as she looked up sheepishly.

"Shit! I’m sorry, Spence," Y/N muttered, still fuming from her conversation with JJ. Her face turned even redder when she realized he might have heard some of it, but she didn’t regret a word of what she’d said.

He hadn't just heard some of it... He'd heard all of it. When he’d left earlier, he’d turned back, intending to ask if she wanted to take a break from the map. Instead, he had been met with the sight of JJ closing the door, and he curiously (shamefully) pressed up against it to know what was going on.

Admittedly, it stung to hear JJ talk about him like that, even though he already knew she'd taken advantage of his past crush on her. But Y/N's words and how she defended him hit him harder than expected. It became clear in that instant—no one had ever been there for him the way she always had been, and somewhere along the way, he'd fallen deeply in love with her.

"Hey, hey, it’s alright," Spencer said quietly, his hands smoothing over her waist before resting gently on her shoulders. "Go take your lunch. You’ve earned a break. I’ll keep working on the geographical profile until you return."

Y/N offered a weary but grateful smile before walking away, leaving Spencer alone to process the revelation weighing on him.

That night, Spencer paced his hotel room, caught between waiting until they were home to tell Y/N how he felt or just saying it now. He felt like an idiot for not recognizing it sooner, for convincing himself his feelings for her were purely platonic. But now that he knew, it consumed him. He wanted to shout it to the heavens, to tell the world he was in love with her.

Spencer knew what he had to do. He realized that confessing his feelings in the middle of a case wasn’t ideal, but the thought of waiting any longer to let her know how much she meant to him was unbearable. That’s why, before he could talk himself out of it, he found himself standing outside her door at midnight, knocking softly.

"Spence? You okay?"

Her sleepy voice tugged at his heart as she opened the door, rubbing her eyes and letting out a soft yawn. She smiled faintly, gesturing for him to come in. The room was cloaked in darkness, but the moonlight spilling through the curtains illuminated the crumpled sheets, evidence of her restless sleep.

His heart hammered in his chest as he breathed in unsteadily, lowering himself onto the edge of her bed. She crawled back to the middle, flicking on the bedside lamp, the soft light casting a warm glow between them. His courage started to falter, but the gentle concern in her eyes anchored him. He remembered why he was here—because with her, he felt safe enough to face this, no matter how vulnerable he felt.

"Y/N, I—" Spencer began, his voice catching for a moment, but he continued anyway. "I heard what happened with JJ earlier, and it made me realize something I should’ve recognized a long time ago. I was so caught up in denial that it didn’t hit me until now. And I’m so sorry for that…"

Oh, fuck. He was starting to ramble. This isn't how he wanted this to go at all—

"Y/N... I'm in love with you. I am so, so in love with you that it aches. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. And it’s not just the way you look, though I could spend hours talking about how stunning you are. It’s who you are, the goodness that radiates from you. You make me want to be better, to wake up every day and try to be at least half the person you are. You care for everyone around you like it’s your purpose, and I want to be the one who takes care of you for once because you truly deserve that. I’ve never felt anything like this, and if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. But I just—I needed you to know."

Y/N’s jaw dropped as Spencer’s confession filled the air, her eyes welling with tears as the words she had longed for spilled from him. She moved swiftly, sitting up from the pillows and crawling toward him, a tear dripping down her cheek as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

"I love you too, Spencer Reid," she breathed, her voice trembling with sincerity. "I love you with everything I am."

Spencer’s lungs burned as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He returned her watery smile, his heart overflowing with love for the woman before him. Carefully, he cupped her face, his thumb following the line of her cheeks, his eyes filled with a quiet mix of wonder and adoration.

“Can I kiss you? Please?”

Her lips were on his the second he uttered the last syllable.

The kiss was both gentle and intense, their lips meeting with a deliberate slowness as if savoring every moment of crossing the line from friendship into something more. There was a hunger beneath the tenderness, an unspoken yearning finally being released. Their lips parted for only a second, allowing them to suck in a quick breath before they were back on each other. Each kiss was a quiet revelation, better than they had ever dreamed.

What started as an innocent declaration of their feelings for each other quickly evolved into something more ravenous as Spencer’s tongue prodded at the seam of her lips. The soft exhale Y/N released as their tongues brushed together had Spencer groaning, one of his hands sliding to cradle the back of her head as he savored the taste of her and the feeling of her lips against his. His other hand gingerly slid down her body, settling on her hip as he leaned forward, guiding her to rest against the pillows.

Y/N’s thighs parted eagerly to make room for him between them, her hands lacing through his hair as she tugged him impossibly closer. His elbows dug into the mattress beside her body as he hovered above her, swallowing the moan that slipped from her lips when their hips pressed together. He chased her lips when she tipped her head back, kissing her with an intensity that made her dizzy and had her whining into his mouth.

"I-I want— Spence, please—"

Y/N pleaded as his lips trailed down the side of her neck to suck a mark into her collarbone, though she wasn't even sure what she was begging for. She just knew she needed him. Her body felt like it was aflame, ignited by the spark that was Spencer's tongue soothing the possessive bruise now blooming across her skin. She needed him so desperately that her mind became a blur, consumed by an endless craving, unable to focus on anything but the overwhelming desire for more—more of him, more of this, more of everything he offered.

The thin fabric of their pajamas did little to conceal the feeling of his stiff cock grinding against her in subtle rocks of his hips as his hands began to roam her body, only adding to the overwhelming need she felt coursing through her. Spencer hushed her with a gentle peck, his lips lingering against hers for a brief, sweet moment before he moved to kiss her nose, her cheeks, and finally her forehead. With each gentle kiss, she couldn't help but giggle softly, her laughter melting into the space between them.

"I know, pretty girl. You're already so worked up and all I've done is kiss you," he cooed, the words taking her by surprise. He wasn't wrong. A wet patch had started seeping through the cotton of her pants, something his fingers had taken an interest in as he began to lightly skim up and down her clit with his knuckles over the damp fabric. "No one ever takes care of you, do they, baby? Let me be the one to take care of you, Y/N. Please?" He paused, gently lifting her chin so he could meet her gaze.

Spencer’s words quieted the storm raging inside her, and she took a deep breath, her body finally relaxing. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt such a strong desire to let go, to stop carrying the weight of everything alone. To finally surrender and let someone take care of her. So she did exactly that.

"Yes. God, yes. Please, Spencer," Y/N whispered, her eyes searching his, full of need and trust.

It was as if a switch flipped the moment Spencer got the confirmation he needed.

His lips were back on hers in an instant, devouring her as though she'd melt away if he stopped touching her for even a second. He rolled them over, breaking the kiss to glide his hands underneath the rumpled t-shirt Y/N had on for bed and lifting it over her head in one swift motion. Ignoring her soft squeal of surprise, he brought his hands down to her hips, massaging the skin there before sliding his hands under the waistband of her pajama pants to grip her ass.

"Look at you… You're nothing short of incredible. Absolutely breathtaking," Spencer murmured, staring up at her in awe. The soft brown of his eyes had faded, overtaken by the dark void of his dilated pupils, as if a veil had been drawn across them. "I can't even begin to express how lucky I am to have you... how beautiful you are."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed under his gaze, her teeth gently catching her lower lip as she placed her hands beside his head for support. She shivered as her nipples brushed against the fabric of his shirt, hardened by the cool air of the hotel room and the desire she felt coursing through her. She answered with a hum and ducked her head shyly, mouthing at the sensitive skin underneath his jaw as she wriggled impatiently in his hold.

Spencer chuckled breathlessly, squeezing her ass again before retracting his hands. His fingers danced along the waistband of her pants teasingly before he began to tug them down, dragging her panties with them. His heart raced as she wiggled out of them, hammering against his chest with a rhythm that felt almost deafening. He couldn’t comprehend what he’d done to deserve someone like her, but he would spend a lifetime making sure she knew just how precious she was to him.

"It's your turn to strip," Y/N mumbled as she sat up, straddling his waist as her hands found their way under his shirt. "I feel so... exposed."

Spencer’s brows quirked in amusement, a quiet laugh slipping out before he could stop it as she shoved the shirt up and over his head. She slithered down his body, grinning up at him before placing a kiss on his hip bone. His pants soon joined the growing pile of clothes on the ground, followed shortly after by his boxers.

"There. Is that better, sweetheart?" Spencer teased, but the words went completely unheard as she gawked at him.

Y/N kneeled between his spread legs, her hands planted firmly on his thighs as she took in the sight of him. He lay before her like something straight out of her most vivid dreams, more stunning than she’d ever imagined. He was effortlessly handsome—his hair tousled, lips slightly swollen from their kisses, and freckles and scars scattered across his shoulders and chest like a map of his past. His muscles were lean and toned, and the sparse hair trailing down beneath his belly button was far more enticing than it should've been. His cock was as pretty as he was, the flushed head of his more than impressive arousal matching the pink of his cheeks.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

"C'mere. I'm supposed to be taking care of you," Spencer grinned, motioning for Y/N to crawl back over him.

Instead of letting her settle with her thighs around his hips like she had previously been, he tugged insistently, her brows furrowing in confusion as she wobbled above him.

"Spencer, what—"

"Get up here," Spencer crooned, finally managing to maneuver her forward so her pussy hovered over his mouth. "And sit down."

Y/N's jaw dropped, her hands flying out to catch herself as she gripped the headboard. She was taken aback, utterly speechless. Here she was, being manhandled by Spencer Reid. The same quiet, awkward genius who rambled endlessly about statistics and couldn’t sit still for more than a minute was man-handling her and demanding she sit on his face. Was she dreaming?

"Are you— are you sure?" Y/N squeaked, staring down at him with wide eyes. "You really don't have to—"

Spencer turned his head so he could pepper open-mouthed kisses up and down her inner thigh, coaxing a soft moan from her as his warm breath fanned across her soaked folds.

"Stop all that worrying, pretty girl. I told you I'd take care of you—let me keep my word."

Before she could protest, Spencer gripped her hips, pulling her down at the same time he tilted his head up to lap his tongue over her core. Any hesitation Y/N had left evaporated from her body as a guttural moan ripped its way from her throat, her eyes fluttering shut as Spencer dragged his tongue over her clit. His movements were languid but hungry as he reveled in the taste of her, relishing her essence as though it was the very thing he needed to fuel his existence.

The air was filled with a mixture of moans and the slick sound of Spencer's mouth working between her legs, only amplifying the intense pleasure swimming through her body. Once Spencer was sure Y/N would stay put, he let one of his hands fall away from her hips, tracing it down his body until it wrapped around his cock. The breathy sounds she was letting out had him painfully hard, his thumb spreading the bead of precum spilling from the tip down the length of him as he began to pump himself.

"Oh, fuck—" Y/N whined as she forced her eyes open, turning to look over her shoulder at the sound of Spencer touching himself. The sight had her thighs trembling, a low groan rumbling in her throat as she turned her gaze down to look at him underneath her.

His eyes were squeezed shut, his brows pinched together in pleasure as his hand began to move faster. It was downright sinful. She'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Spencer alternated between fucking his tongue into her and sucking gently at her clit, the combination hurtling her toward her orgasm at a speed she never thought was possible. Y/N's hips rocked against his face, frantic whimpers slipping from her lips as her face began to scrunch in pleasure. The needy moans he was letting out against her skin pushed her over the edge as a sharp gasp broke free into the air, followed by a loud cry as her hands dropped from the headboard to tangle into his hair while she came.

Spencer whimpered as he let go of himself, instead using his hands to anchor her down while he gently worked her through her climax. He pressed a small kiss to her clit before she squirmed away, falling onto the bed beside him as her chest heaved. A look of adoration lingered on his face as he stroked her side and hair, pressing his lips to her forehead while she caught her breath.

Y/N flashed a small grin, rolling her eyes at his proud expression. A comforting heaviness settled in her limbs, pulling her deeper into the bed as she released a soft sigh. It took her a few moments to push herself up on her elbow, shifting to face him instead of lying flat on her back.

"How am I ever supposed to get anything done again now that I know you can do that?" Y/N murmured with a hint of exasperation, tilting her head to nuzzle her nose against his.

Spencer’s breath hitched as she draped her leg across his waist, hissing quietly as the head of his cock brushed against her warmth. He hummed, feigning thought before shrugging with a playful grin. "Could be a reward for a job well done," he teased, brushing a lingering kiss across her lips as his hand rubbed up and down her thigh.

"Yeah?" Y/N's hips began to slowly rock back and forth, the friction from his cock pressing between her folds making her head spin. "Well, can I reward you for a job well done then?"

Spencer's fingers flexed against her thigh, a low noise escaping him as he fought to keep his eyes on hers.

It made sense to him now why sailors would plummet into icy waters at the sound of a siren's call. If that call was anything as alluring as the sound of her voice, he'd happily do the same. She could demand the most heinous things of him right now and he'd do them simply because she asked.

But tonight was about her.

So instead of caving and begging for her touch, he shook his head, his lips quirking up at the pout forming on her lips. "As much as I would love to take you up on that offer, I'm supposed to be taking care of you, sweetheart. Not the other way around."

"Okay... so then take care of me by fucking me. Please?"

Spencer's resolve broke at her words. How could he possibly deny her? He'd be an absolute fool not to give her whatever her heart wished for.

His lips met hers in a fervent kiss as he moved to hover over her once more. Two of his fingers found her soaked pussy and sank inside of her with little resistance, a smug grin finding its way to his face as she gasped loudly into his mouth. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along her jaw before he whispered into her ear.

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

Y/N bucked her hips up into his touch, writhing underneath him as she nodded frantically. There wasn't a thing in this world that she wanted more. "Yes, Spence, please. Please fuck me. I need it—"

Spencer groaned, latching his lips onto the side of her neck as he inhaled sharply through his nose before he sat back on his heels. His fingers slipped out of her, her eyes widening as he brought the digits to his mouth and sucked them clean with a satisfied hum.

"Flip over."

Y/N followed his command without hesitation, the rush of anticipation making her feel almost detached, as though she were on autopilot, waiting to see what he would do next. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder before he reached for a pillow, tucking it underneath her hips to prop her up. A low whine emitted from her chest as she felt the flushed head of his arousal bump against her entrance, her hips canting back in an attempt to get him to push forward as he leaned forward, his chest brushing her back as he planted his hands into the mattress beside her.

"Do you want it like this, sweetheart? No condom? Because I can go find one..." Spencer murmured into her ear, his breathing labored as he teased her opening.

"Please— Wanna feel you, Spence," She whined into the pillow, arching her hips into his touch, though he remained just out of reach.

Spencer's eyes squeezed shut as a pang of arousal shot through him, taking a shuddering breath to mentally prepare himself not to blow his load before he even fucked her. With a kiss to the back of her head, Spencer began to press forward, easing into her inch by inch.

Y/N's mouth gaped open against the pillow she'd tugged underneath her head in a silent moan, the sensation of him finally filling her more intense than she'd expected. Her fingers gripped the sheets as he bottomed out, a pitiful whimper slipping free as she wiggled her hips in an attempt to adjust to the feeling. Her walls clenched around him instinctively as she adjusted, causing a broken moan to fall from his lips as his head rested against her shoulder, his breath puffing across her skin in warm bursts.

His right arm kept him braced above her while his left arm made its way under her chest, pulling her close as his hand began to grope at her breasts. His fingertips pinched one of her nipples, reveling in the soft moan she let out. "Are you ready for me to move, pretty girl?" He breathed, peppering kisses along the side of her face as he waited for her to relax.

At her nod, Spencer began to move, his thrusts slow but powerful as he repeatedly drove into her. He shifted up onto his knees, pulling her hips back into his languid thrusts as she moaned beneath him. The angle allowed him to brush her G-spot with every stroke, causing her toes to curl with each pang of pleasure that wracked her body. His hands squeezed the flesh of her ass, a low whine bubbling in his throat as he took in the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her.

It was downright erotic, the sight of her arousal coating the wiry curls at the base of him driving him insane. She was so fucking wet for him. The knowledge that he was making her feel this good made his head spin. He couldn't keep it to himself anymore. He needed to show her how deeply this was affecting him, to make her understand the intensity of the way she made him feel.

Everyone knew Spencer liked to run his mouth. It wasn't a surprise that this remained true during sex. What surprised Y/N, however, was how absolutely filthy of a mouth the man had. Spencer, the same Spencer who had barely uttered a curse in all the years she'd known him, was now stringing together words that would make even the most foul-mouthed person blush.

His pace increased with each word he murmured, small "ah, ah, ah's" spilling from her lips as he began to really pound into her.

"Does that feel good? Huh? Finally being taken care of the way you deserve?"

"Fuck— look at you, baby. Taking my cock so well. Do you like that? You like feeling me stretch you open?"

"Such a perfect pussy, sweetheart. So fucking good for me. So tight. My beautiful girl."

Every vulgar word he breathed into the space between them had her mind reeling, her body teetering on the edge of release as her walls fluttered around him. Desperate moans began to spill from her as she took everything he had to offer, her teeth digging into her lower lip to try to stifle the noises in an attempt not to wake everyone on that floor of the hotel. Spencer's gaze was locked on the way her ass rippled with each thrust, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as his brows pinched together and his mouth hung open.

"S-Spence— I'm so close—" Y/N whimpered, burying her face into the pillow beneath her as she moaned helplessly.

He dragged one of his hands away from where it was squeezing her hip, shoving it between her hips and the pillow propping her up as he began to stroke her clit in time with his thrusts. "Let go, sweet girl. Cum around my cock. Show me how good I make you feel."

She cried out at that, thrashing underneath him as the tension coiling in her lower belly finally snapped. Spencer's hips stuttered, a guttural moan wrenching its way from his throat as she squeezed around him, her legs trembling as one of the most powerful orgasms she'd ever experienced washed over her in waves.

"God— fuck, I'm about to cum," Spencer grunted, his eyes squeezing shut briefly as he swallowed hard, his chest heaving with exertion as he fucked her through it. "Where do you want it, pretty girl?"

"Wanna taste you... Spence, please—" Y/N slurred beneath him, weakly pushing up on her elbows to turn and look at him over her shoulder. Her bottom lip was swollen and lightly bruised from how hard she'd been biting at it, and her eyes were watery with unshed tears as the pleasure began to overwhelm her.

The sight of her looking so ruined almost had him spilling inside of her, and with a muffled curse he pulled out of her, fisting his cock as she rolled onto her back and stuck her tongue out patiently. He shuffled up her body, bracing himself with one hand against the headboard as he gazed down at her reverently. The amusement he felt from the brief feeling of deja vu from having her in a similar position earlier that night was short-lived as his head tipped back, a strained whimper filling the air as her tongue brushed against the head of his cock.

It only took a few pumps for him to cum, his eyes rolling back into his head when she sat up to take him further into her mouth as rope after rope of his essence flooded her throat. Y/N sucked gently, working him through his orgasm until his hips were jerking and he was whining, pulling off of his softening cock with a slick 'pop'. He crumpled onto the bed next to her, his heart pounding almost painfully against his ribcage as he struggled to catch his breath.

Spencer wrapped her tightly in his arms, his lips brushing against the top of her head with soft, repeated kisses. Between each tender touch, he murmured how incredible she made him feel, how he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to share this life with her, let alone love her the way he did. Y/N whispered back, her voice soft but full of conviction, telling him how deeply she cherished him and how every part of her was filled with love for him.

Her fingers idly traced patterns across the flushed skin of his chest until he caught her hand, pressing tender kisses to her knuckles before quietly slipping out of bed. She groaned petulantly as he pulled her to her feet, ushering her towards the bathroom with a pat to her butt and a mumbled but passionate lecture on the timeframe after sex in which she needed to pee to avoid getting a UTI. Even though she knew he was right, she still rolled her eyes as she trudged into the bathroom. She decided to brush her teeth while she was there as well, giggling to herself at the thought of kissing Spencer with the taste of him still in her mouth.

When she stepped out, Spencer had changed the sheets and set a bottle of water on the nightstand, flashing a drowsy grin as she slipped into bed next to him and turned the lamp out. "What's all this about?" she teased, her smile breaking into a yawn.

"I'm taking care of you, just like I said I would."

It didn’t take long for exhaustion to settle in, both of them murmuring good nights between soft kisses. As they drifted off together, Y/N felt certain he would be taking care of her for the rest of his life—and she was just as sure that she would do the same for him.

Continued A/N's: Happy (late) start to December!! I really hope you guys enjoy this :') I plan on doing a little something (maybe, possibly ;) ) for Christmas, so stay tuned for updates on what that little something may be. Also, a loving reminder that my requests are open! :) <3 K

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[shellshocklove]

snapshot | old man!logan

pairing/AU: old man!logan howlett x female!reader

summary: short on money for rent, your joke about starting an only fans account, to earn some extra cash, goes over logan's head. but when an accident with charles puts your life in danger, logan takes you up on your offer.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! friends with benefits vibes who are also idiots in love, implied age gap, swearing, mentions and drinking of alcohol, use of pet names, logan's a bit of a grumpy dick, sex work, logan can't use a phone, logan can carry reader but he's also extremely strong, smut, praise kink, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), dom!logan, logan's got a dirty mouth, a little dacryphilia, sloppy blow job, facial, cum play, no use of y/n

a/n: a little disclaimer. i actually have no idea how OF work i only read the wikipedia page, so i've taken some liberties with it to fit it with the plot lol. the idea for the reader as charles' caretaker is inspired by @joelsgoldrush's fic never is a promise <- incredible fic that everyone should read! and also a big thank you to @guiltyasdave for all the encouragement on this fic!! <333 happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The coffee tasted sour on his tongue as he waited, engine running on empty, but the whiskey kept his throat warm. Behind the apartment complex the sun crawled up the horizon and split the the dark asphalt in pieces with streaks of blinding sunlight. The street lights shut off just as you walked out, the rickety door slamming shut behind you.

Watching you round the front of the limousine Logan pulled his seat forward, his rough hand grabbing the wheel as his left foot tapped impatiently on the footrest. A tickle in his throat had him greet you with a cough, and he brought his fist to his mouth.

"Morning to you too," you said, voice laced with sarcasm.

"Don't fuckin' slam the door like that– I've told you a thousand times," Logan grunted back and put the car in drive.

This was routine at this point. He picked you up in the morning after driving all night, and dropped you off again in the evening before he started his shift. Employing you took a large wad of cash out of his pocket, but at least he didn't have to worry about Charles being taken care of. You weren't a registered nurse or anything, not someone who'd had all the right references and education, but you needed money and didn't ask questions, and that had been perfect for Logan. He'd hired you about a year ago, and everything after had been routine.

When you didn't say anything back, only shifted your weight in the seat and leaned your head against the window, it pulled at something inside Logan. He couldn't deny you were a beautiful woman. He liked the way your nose curved, how soft your skin felt against his cheek every time you'd given him a reluctant hug, and he liked the way you smelled. It was primal, and in another life Logan would've had you in his bed already, but in this life, Logan was done with beautiful women.

Still early enough for the roads to be empty, Logan pushed the speed limit as he waited for you to speak – to finally say something trivial like you did every morning – some song you'd just discovered, or the plot twist in the reality program you watched every night, or how they were out of your favorite yogurt at the grocery store. He'd reply with a grunt, or with nothing at all, just letting you talk.

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan noticed how you picked at the skin around your nails, and when the sharp metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils, he heaved a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong with you?" he grumbled. A lilt of annoyance coated the words, and Logan hated how your silence had affected him. His harsh tone didn't seem to bother you, and the realization cut like a knife; biting down, Logan's jaw clenched.

"It's nothing."

Logan had to hold back the scoff he wanted to let out, "Clearly it's somethin', kid."

Finally, a reaction out of you. Pushing yourself to sit up straight, you let out a sigh as you turned your head to look at him. "My landlord raised my rent again… I'm thinking about how I'm gonna pay rent this month. I'm gonna be a few hundred bucks short," you told him.

Oh.

Gripping the wheel a little tighter, Logan couldn't help himself from asking, "You tellin' me you're quittin'?"

He couldn't blame you, he thought he paid you a fair wage, but it seemed that everything had gotten more and more expensive lately. The rides had been few and far between and the tank of gas didn't take him as far anymore. The weekends kept him afloat, along with bachelor and bachelorette parties, prom nights, and knuckleheaded business men too fancy to drive a regular cab to the airport. Had it not been for Charles' medication he'd give you a raise. Logan wasn't stupid, he knew he couldn't do this without you.

"No," you shook your head, "I wouldn't do that to Charles."

But you'd do it to me, Logan thought and let the words unsaid hang in the air between you as he pulled onto the dirt road leading to the smelting plant.

"I'll figure something out," you said, before a smirk teased over your face, that smile breaking forth the old you hidden behind this morning's melancholia. "Maybe I should start an Only Fans or something," you laughed.

"What's that?" Logan grunted, too focused on keeping his foot soft on the brake and avoiding the potholes to hear your joking lilt.

"Only Fans?" you questioned, one eyebrow raised in surprise before your eyes softened at the corners. "It's a social media platform for porn," you explained, "It's subscription based so you make an account and people pay a monthly subscription to see your content."

Porn?

Slowing down to a stop outside the gate, Logan put the limousine in park, the engine still humming.

"And how's that gonna help you pay rent?" Logan wondered, turning slightly in his seat to finally get a good look at you.

You were quiet for a second, eyes searching his face before the sound of a distant train had you looking away, almost bashful. "It's ridiculous," you muttered, "I don't have anyone to do it with anyway."

Before Logan could cough up an answer your hand found the passenger door, and a gust of sharp desert air seeped in. "I'll figure out the rent somehow… Sleep well, Logan," you told him, a wistful smile coating your features, before you climbed out the limousine and opened the gate. His eyes stayed glued to you as he drove past you, flicking to watch you close the gate after him in the rearview mirror. When you headed for the tank without your usual wave, a frown pulled at his face.

Stepping out of the limousine, Logan watched you leave, watched the way your hips swayed with new interest. Reaching into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, he found his flask – desperate to quench this fresh thirst with the last sip of burning alcohol, smoothing his dry throat. 

The cold coffee left a brown splatter as he discarded it; the coffee seeped into the sand. Inside the steeled walls he now called 'home' reeked of dust, like stepping into an antique shop, and Logan couldn't hold back his cough. Walking deeper into the plant with heavy steps, the old trinkets and equipment told a story of time passed.

So much time had passed.

Hanging his suit jacket over the back of one of the chairs Logan started working the small buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off before tossing it gently over the ironing board. Food would have to wait, he already knew the fridge wasn't stocked. Instead, he found the bottle of whiskey he'd left on the table, grabbing it by the neck before he took a large swig.

The whiskey helped, at least that's what he told himself, but his senses never dulled enough and the weight never got any easier. Sitting down heavy on the bed, Logan drank long and hard, but he couldn't keep his thoughts from trailing to you and what you’d muttered. I don't have anyone to do it with anyway.

What was it you'd called it? Just Fans? No, that wasn't right… Only Fans.

Logan remembered the first tape he ever saw; it had been the 70s, a summer in California, at some party he'd been forced to by a beautiful woman. The tape had been projected onto a wall in the living room, like background noise no one paid attention to. It had been lewd and obnoxious, but no one had seemed to mind, high as kites and drunk as skunks. Soon, Logan hadn't minded either, whisking away the woman to make his own private porn in one of the bedrooms.

Behind the woven fabric of his slacks, his cock twitched at the thought, but it wasn't the porn playing at the party, or the memory of the woman he'd fucked that filled his mind, it was you. 

It was innocent at first; the way your front teeth nibbled on your bottom lip as you pondered your next move in a game of chess opposite Charles, how your eyes sparkled under the low streetlights as he drove you home at the end of the day, and how your perfume had filled the limousine and clung to his skin that one time you'd left your jacket in the passenger seat. His hand came down to rub over the growing bulge in his pants, soothing the growing ache with a hard press, pulling a rumbling moan from his chest. 

Soon the innocent memories of you turned to filth. Logan's mind filled with images of you underneath him, his cock buried balls deep in your wet cunt as you withered for him. Then, as quickly as the first image had come, another took its place: of you on your knees with your mouth stuffed with his cock, gagging around him and swallowing him down like a good girl.

With each rubbing press to his cock, Logan couldn't shake the rolling images of you. It was wrong, never had he thought about you like that, never had he wanted to think of you like that, but once he'd started, he couldn't stop.

Working his fingers, it was almost instinctual as they moved to undo the button of his pants. His hand dug into his front, large hand palming himself with hard presses, as his cock hardened. Trailing his fingers upwards, stopping right above the elastic band of his underwear, his hand so close to wrapping around himself, a hint of shame pulled him out of the gutter.

He shouldn’t think about you like that.

Pulling away, like he'd burnt his hand, Logan let out a deep grumbling sigh. Leaning back on both hands, he let his head fall back as he squeezed his eyes shut. In his pants his cock throbbed with need. It had been a long time since he'd had a woman, so long since he'd felt the velvet walls of a tight cunt wrapped around him, too long since he'd felt like he wasn't a monster, if only for a few blissful seconds.

Bringing the neck of the whiskey bottle to his mouth, Logan drowned his need in  temporary numbness, focusing instead on how the warmth filled his chest and dulled every ache. Falling back with a heavy bounce, he nursed the bottle in the crook of his thick arm, letting his eyes fall shut.

Logan couldn't remember the last time he wasn't tired, couldn't remember when his body didn't ache with every move. His veins bled through with rust and alcohol, and he hoped the latter made the corrosion run smoother.

His eyes fluttered shut, and the same flashing images filled the darkness. Years of fighting, years of killing, all the people he'd lost. It was the same show every night, and every night it tore a piece of him away, of his joy.

The bottom of the whiskey bottle clanked sharply as it hit the floor and a cough got stuck in his throat. It ripped and jerked in his chest, and he keeled over himself, fighting against it. When his head hit the pillow again, his eyes didn't fall shut, they trailed the walls, found the holes of blinding daylight seeping in through the holes in the corrugated metal sheets, and his thoughts found you again.

Curiosity got the best of him, and a hand dug into the back pocket of his pants for his phone. The small icons and text blended together as the screen lit up his face. When Logan held the phone a little further away the screen only got blurrier. With an exasperated sigh, he sat up, his body protesting as he grabbed his suit jacket off the dining chair, digging into the inner pocket for his new glasses.

Slumping down in the chair, his glasses resting at the tip of his nose, he tapped at his phone. He rarely used the thing outside of work, but suddenly he tapped at something that made it speak to him.

"I'm sorry I didn't quite get that," his phone said.

"Hello?" Logan spoke back.

Again his phone lit up and the voice answered. "Hello, what can I help you with?"

"What is Only Fans?"

……..

Fitting a brittle leaf between your thumb and pointer finger, you studied Charles' plants. The table always looked a mess after he'd tended to them, dirt spilled onto the table and tools thrown haphazardly about. Cupping your hand, you brushed the dirt into your hand, and discarded it into a pot you thought needed it.

Flicking your wrist, you looked at the time again. It was getting late. Usually by this time, Logan would have you halfway home already. Resorting to cleaning up the tools, you decided to give him half an hour before you'd start looking for him. He never slept in, although you could clearly see he needed it. 

Logan wasn't a man to show weakness, not to anybody, rather, he showed his teeth, barking and fighting against you or anyone who dared speak to him. It had intimidated you at first, and you'd held your tongue, afraid he'd bite your head off, but in time you'd come to realize that his gruff demeanor was just that, a façade. 

Charles on the other hand, senile and more and more forgetful, was the opposite of his son. On good days he beat you at chess while he told you stories about 'the good ol' days'. His imagination was vast, telling stories about the X-Men like he knew them, like he'd been a part of them, and especially by nightfall his stories would become even wilder. He'd tell you about his 'abilities', how he could read minds. He'd tell stories about Logan too, tragic ones, that if it hadn't been for the stack of comics you'd found, you would've almost said they were true.

Finding the chair by Charles' bed, you watched him deep in sleep. A heaviness could be felt in your chest as you thought about how his good and lucid days had seemed to get fewer and fewer lately. You found yourself having the same conversations with him, and once again today, he didn't want to get out of bed, telling you his head hurt. 

You wished you knew more of his condition, but Logan wouldn't tell you anything other than that Charles suffered from seizures, and if he didn't get his medication the consequences would be great. The way Logan had said it to you, his voice sharp and strict, it sounded serious, and in the year you'd taken care of Charles, you'd been diligent with his medication. Not once had you experienced a seizure with him.

Reaching over him, your palm found Charles' cheek. Stroking your hand lightly over his face, you felt the prickling stubble against your skin. His comment earlier about his head, had you worried. Logan usually supplied you with Charles' medication – from where you didn't know – there hadn't been any doctor's visits or health checks from what you could recall.

Maybe Logan didn't have insurance? It was your only explanation, a reason for why he'd found a more creative way of caring for his father. 

In a way you respected it, hacked an unknowing crack in Logan’s harsh façade– he cared. Only respect didn’t keep you from wanting Logan to tell you more, to open up, but wringing out more than a grunt from him was difficult. Instead, you made sure to let him know when you were running low on the pills and injections, and usually by the next day he'd hand over a new bottle. 

Stroking over Charles’ cheek, another chill of nervousness ran up your back where a worry tugged at your neck. 

Yesterday, after a week had passed since you'd asked Logan for more medication. He’d told you not to worry, that he’d have the pills soon, but running so low you'd had to resort to rationing Charles' doses.

Pulling back your hand, your eyes found your watch again, but before you could register the time, Charles stirred beside you. Then, an excruciating blinding pain permeated through your body. It rang in your ears and had your body shaking in agony, but at the same time you couldn't move. You wanted to scream, let out the pain that froze you to the chair, but no noise came out. When your vision started to go foggy, you thought that this must be what dying was like, but never would you have thought dying would feel this painful.

Through the ringing in your ears, a heavy creak of the tank door could be heard– or was it a trick your brain played on you in your last moments? Like the broad figure moving closer, slowly, too slowly, like it walked through water. You couldn't see who it was, but you didn't have too. Surely, your brain showing you Logan in your last moments, must've been a trick. The figure hovered over Charles, maybe it feasted on him first, reaped his soul as an appetizer before it would have you.

And just as quickly as the pain had taken you, the pain stopped.

Heaving for breath, your body fell forward, it was like the air couldn't fill your lungs quick enough. Two large palms cupped your cheek, tilting your head to Logan's frowning face. If you didn't know better you thought he looked scared.

"You okay?" he barked, your head rolling in his hands, "Hey! Bub, look at me."

You found the strength to nod your head, but Logan seemed far from convinced. He swiped his thumb over your cupid's bow, a flash of red coating his thumb and his face turned to stone, his frown so deep it looked chiseled.

Then he moved with an uncharacteristic haste, hiking you up in his arms and carrying you out of the tank. Closing your eyes, you tried to put your brain back together the way it used to be, but everything felt scrambled. When your back hit the soft mattress of a bed, you finally opened them.

Over you, Logan's large form hovered. He said something to you, but you only registered his mouth moving, your eyes glued to his pink soft lips, and your vision cleared completely.

"Drink this," he ordered, shoving a glass of water in your hands, and just like that your hearing had snapped back. "'m gonna go check on Charles– don't fucking move."

With no energy left in your body, you wouldn't dream of it. Logan watched you take a careful sip, the water lukewarm, before he left you in what you finally realized was his bed. The first sip nourished your dry throat, like you’d walked for miles in the desert without tasting as much as a drop. Surging forward, you chugged the rest of the water before you fell back against his pillow, clutching the glass in the crook of your elbow.

The smell of him on his sheets overwhelmed your weakened mind; a deep heady smell with a warmth to it, woven through with the heaviness of man. It soothed your mushy muscles, helping release the tension in your body.

The time passed differently now, fast and slow at the same time, and after an eternity and a second Logan was back. The weight of him where he sat down at the edge of the bed, had your whole body tipping towards him. His large palm found your cheek again, the rough pads of his fingers soothing over the skin.

"You doin' okay?" he asked, his deep voice filtering through a hint of worry.

"W-what happened to him– to m-me?" you managed to croak out.

Logan's heavy hand didn't move away when the furrow between his eyebrows deepened, the one that seemed to be a permanent feature on his face.

"He had a seizure," he told you, like it was obvious, taking the glass of water from your hands,

He must've caught the way your face turned, the confusion that flitted across it, one that spelled 'seizures don't affect other people'.

"Listen," he started, drawing back his hand, "There’s no other way of explainin' it to you other than tellin' you that all those stories he's told you about him– about me… they're all true."

The frown that deepened over your face at his words, must've challenged the permanent one over Logan's face. "W-what? The stories about the X-Men?"

"Yes, the X-Men– Is he talkin' a hole through your head about anything else?"

"No, but… there aren't any more mutants."

"Not new ones,” he sighed, “But we're old, sweetheart– the last there is." His voice went quieter and quieter as he spoke, a hint of sadness eating the words, before his palm found your cheek again. "You see… Charles he's a very powerful mutant, and years ago he started a school for mutants–"

"–I know all of that already Logan– he told me," you cut him off, "I never believed him, I thought he was just confused– the stories they–"

"–I know, bub," this time he cut you off, but he let the next words linger on his tongue. Drawing back his hand, his eyes found the wall behind the bed. "I never meant for you to get hurt– it's my fault. If he gets his medication he's fine, but… you ain't the only one who's a few hundred dollars short– it's been a slow month."

Before you had a chance to reply, Logan rose on his feet. "The seizures messes with your brain, so get some rest. I'm gonna get his medication, and I'll wake ya in the mornin'." Logan didn't wait for you to protest before he grabbed the car keys off the table, and left you alone in his bed. 

Outside the moon climbed the sky, and the new darkness, along with your scrambled brain, had your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier.

……..

"Wake up, sweetheart."

Logan's gruff voice pulled you from a dreamless sleep; a sleep like you'd just closed your eyes. Blinking, your heavy eyelids pulled shut just as quickly as you'd opened them, leaving you with a snapshot of Logan's body hovering over you. You hummed, sleep coating your brain, while your body felt like you'd put it through the wringer at the gym.

"It's mornin'."

You tried again, blinking your eyes open with more success. Logan's black suit jacket was nowhere to be seen, instead he adorned a white tank top. Letting your gaze roll over him, you noticed the scars etched into his skin, so many scattered up and down his strong arms, and suddenly the memories of last night filtered back into your brain.

"Logan," you whispered so low even you weren't sure you’d heard it.

"I'm takin' you home, alright? I'll watch him today," he told you.

When Logan told you something, he meant it. Leaving you in his bed, it was like a replay of last night as he grabbed the car keys and black suit jacket off the table. 

Slowly, you sat up and leaned on your elbows, letting the world spin for a minute. Your clothes from yesterday clung to your skin, and you felt both cold and sweaty as you got out of bed.

With each step you took every muscle ached, but somehow you managed to walk out the door. The burning light of the morning sun blinded you, and with one hand raised you shielded your eyes from the harshness while you walked closer to the humming impatient motor of Logan's limousine. Just as you'd sunk into the leather seat and managed to shut the door behind you, Logan stepped on the gas, and the smelting plant vanished in the rearview window. 

When you'd finally left the dirt road behind and hit the highway, you cracked the window ever so slightly – the morning air blowing away the last of your tiredness. The closer you got to the city, the more your stomach growled. You hadn't had a thing to eat since lunch yesterday, the aftermath of Charles’ seizure knocking you out before dinner– you needed something to eat.

"Can we stop here?" you asked and pointed at a sign advertising a diner off the next exit.

"I'm drivin' you home," Logan replied, his eyes glued to the road.

"Logan, please, I'm starving," you begged with a pout.

A beat passed, his fingers tapping over the wheel as he weighed his options, then his eyes found yours where they lingered. Staring back, you didn't know what to do. Logan wasn't a man that said yes, he liked things done his way. You bit down on your bottom lip, showing off your front teeth like a silent 'please' written over your face, and Logan huffed.

The loud buzz of conversation hit you first when you stepped into the packed diner, Logan in tow. Waiters ran back and forth between the booths lining the windows, taking breakfast orders and pouring coffee, and at the sound of the bell as the door swung shut behind you, one of them looked up at you.

"Seat yourselves," she said with a smile as golden as the syrup poured over hotcakes, "I'll be with you in a jiffy."

Walking deeper into the diner, you found an empty booth in a quiet corner. Logan seemed pleased, never too keen on people, and after what you'd come to know after last night, you could understand his hesitation.

Logan. The Wolverine.

You remembered the comics from when you were a kid, remembered this one kid in your class in elementary school that had been obsessed with them, reading every issue and Wolverine had been his favorite. He was a scientist now, last you heard, and here you sat opposite the comic character himself.

"Mornin', what can I get you guys?" the waitress asked, pulling up to your table.

"Um," you grabbed at the laminated menu in front of you, your eyes scanning over the breakfast items. Everything looked good, your stomach growling loud as you took in the pictures, but then again you didn't think you'd ever been this hungry before.

"Just coffee f'me, ma'am," Logan grunted.

"Could I get a stack of the blueberry pancakes… and a coffee for me too, please?" you ordered, watching the waitress with the name tag 'Stacy' write down your order.

"That'll be all for you guys this morning?" she smiled.

"Yes, thank you," you returned her smile.

"Alright, I'll be back in a second with your coffees."

While you waited for your pancakes, Logan wasn't much company. He sipped his coffee, black and piping hot, as he leaned against the corner of the booth, legs spread wide, watching the people coming and going. In the silence between you, you decided to study him while you sipped your own coffee. He must've felt your gaze over him, from the way he clenched his jaw, but he never turned his head to look at you, instead he let you look.

When your pancakes finally arrived, you dug in immediately. Fresh, hot and deliciously pillow-y and soft, it was the best thing you'd had in a while. The blueberries weren't too sweet, cutting through the sweetness of the pancakes with a tangy taste, while the bitter taste of your coffee woke you up and filled you with new energy.

"So," Logan suddenly spoke up, almost making the piece of pancake you were chewing on go down the wrong pipe. "How you feelin'?"

"Like I'm having the worst hangover in human history," you joked, "But better now after some food and caffeine."

Logan only hummed, turning his head back to people watching as you ate your pancakes. His silence had a frown work over your features when you placed your knife and fork down to sip on your coffee. He'd been so quiet all morning, which in truth wasn't new, but there was something about him now, something about the way his scowl dug a little deeper into his skin that had you asking:

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothin'," he answered, curt and to the point.

"Clearly it's something," you pried with a tilt of your head.

Another beat passed, before he leaned forward, a cough getting stuck in his throat. It sounded worse than it was, he'd told you once. So, you sipped your coffee, your eyes flitting away like you needed to give him privacy.

"I've been thinkin' about your proposal," he finally said, and you felt your eyebrows pull together in a frown.

"Wait?" your eyes found his, "What proposal?"

"About that subscription thing– the porn," he waved his hand, and leaned back again.

"Only Fans?" you asked, keeping your voice low, "It was just a joke, Logan."

"Well, maybe it's an idea for the both of us. I need money for Charles' medication, and you need money for rent– it'll just be us earnin' a little extra on the side, a win-win situation."

Letting his words sink in, you mulled over his idea in your brain. It wasn't like you weren't attracted to Logan, in truth, you'd wanted him to fuck you for a while now, but it had only been a fantasy, one to conjure forth late at night when you slipped your hand into your panties. To have it become a reality, served up by Logan himself on a silver platter, you'd never imagined.

How could you say no?

"Okay," you said, your voice breathy as what you'd just agreed to settled in your stomach. Having a little more cash in your account every month wouldn't hurt, and getting dick regularly sounded just as nice, it had been too long. "I'm in."

Logan only replied with a curt nod accompanied by an approving grunt, "Now eat your pancakes so we can get goin'."

………

"Cold feet?"

With the limousine parked outside your apartment building, a week's worth of anticipation came to a head. You and Logan hadn't really talked much in the days passed since the diner; Logan's main interest more in you feeling better after experiencing Charles' powers for the first time. He'd let you have a few days off, to heal up, to which you'd taken the opportunity to do some research and set up an Only Fans profile. Currently it was blank, but tonight that would change.

"No," you shook your head, telling true. "You?" you asked, turning in your seat to face Logan.

Logan eyes darted across your face. He never looked at you like that, and for a moment the oddity of the situation, of what you were about to do, settled in your stomach.

"No," Logan finally decided, and reached for the door handle, “Let’s get it over with before it gets too late.”

At his movement, you reached forward and grabbed his forearm, "Wait!"

With a grunt, Logan turned. "What?" he asked, his eyes settling on you with an eyebrow raised.

"I-I have an idea," you told him, and you didn't know why you stumbled over your words. With your hand still wrapped around his arm, his eyes fell to your touch, lingering before they found yours again.

"I was thinking–" you started, retracing your hand, "Well actually… I just restarted taking birth control and I wanted to settle into it before we have sex, so I thought maybe– if you want to of course," you rambled.

"Spit it out, bub, I ain't got all night," Logan cut you off.

"I thought maybe I could suck you off– here in the limo," you 'spat' out your suggestion, your front teeth immediately coming down to bully your bottom lip.

"You want to suck my cock… here?" he repeated. Leaning back in his seat, you didn't know if he spread his legs on purpose, or if he unconsciously drew your eyes to the bulge hidden behind his slacks.

"Yeah, I mean…" you shrugged, "I thought it could be hot? Like something that people would want to see?"

"Right," Logan hummed, reminded of the invisible audience, and reached for the key in the ignition.

Leaving your apartment building in the rearview mirror, Logan searched for a more secluded place to park. The windows in the back of the limousine were tinted, impossible to look into, but you didn't want to take the risk of getting caught. After finding an empty parking lot, backing up and occupying a more private space in the back corner, Logan guided you around the limousine with a hand resting gently over the small of your back. Climbing into the back with you, his broad form filled the space.

Inside, he'd turned on the lights, the colors slowly fading in and out and casting soft shadows across his features. The leather creaked as he sat down, his spread legs already inviting you to slot between. A fleeting feeling of nervousness tickled in your tummy, the reality of what you were about to do washing over you like a wave on a stormy ocean.

Logan watched you from his seat, a picture of sin in his suit, as he slipped his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and fished out his glasses. His jacket fit snugly over his wide shoulders and he'd undone the top buttons where you could glimpse curling chest hair. The way he looked at you through the glasses, eyes dark and curious, had a warmth of arousal starting to pool in the core of yourself.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up, "I was thinking I could set my phone up here–" you pointed to the space between the leather seats and the window. "And then you could use your phone and film me?"

After a little bit of fiddling to get your phone to stay upright, you turned to Logan, your phone capturing your slow walk towards him. He sat with his legs spread wide, his large palms resting on either side of his thighs. When you reached for the hem of your shirt, his finger twitched, digging into the leather, and a toothy smile spread over your features.

Tossing your shirt you sunk to your knees and slotted between his legs. Looking up at him through your lashes, you held his gaze as you sat pretty for him, fanning out the skirt you'd worn specifically for today. He reached for his phone and pressed record when you curled your hands behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra, capturing your bare chest.

The air nipped at your exposed skin, making goosebumps ripple over your skin. Looking up at Logan, his eyes burned against your skin where he took in your breasts, his eyes glided over your bare skin for the first time and soothed out the bubbling nerves that had been brewing. When your eyes caught on the tent growing in his pants, you had to restrain yourself from surging forward, your mouth already watering at the thought of tasting him for the first time – of your wet dreams becoming a reality.

"S'pretty," he murmured, voice deep and guttural, soaked in arousal.

He cupped your cheek gently, the rough pad of his thumb skating over your skin bringing with it a calming safety. Your eyelashes fluttered as you tilted your head into his hand, desperate to feel more of the weathered skin of his hand against your body.

"Y'sure you want this, sweetheart?" he asked.

Opening your eyes, you held his gaze. "Yes, please," you nodded in his large palm, "It's the only thing I've thought about all day." And it was the truth.

"Shit, baby," he groaned in response, dragging his hand down your neck to rest heavy over the top of your breasts. "S'that so?"

Gathering your hands in your lap, you nodded slowly, your teeth caught on your bottom lip as his hand brushed over your right breast. "Thought of how you'd taste," you confessed, the phone in his hand forgotten as you focused entirely on Logan.

"Yeah?" he prompted. One knuckle brushed over your hardened nipples, pulling a quiet whimper from you– pleased he leaned back, "Take off my belt, then."

Bouncing on your knees, you leaned forward on his command, and pulled the leather belt from its loops. You did it slowly, tilting your head upwards to catch his eyes through the glasses. He helped you with the zipper, making you watch as he dragged it down.

With your eyes fixed on his hand you noticed three barely healed scars between every knuckle, and you remembered who Logan really was. The Wolverine. He caught you looking, and his hand tightened into a fist, tightening it for a beat before he relaxed it over his thigh. Leaning forward, you placed a soft kiss over his knuckles, and his hand dug into his thigh.

"Sweetheart," he breathed out, his voice strained.

In the depths of your chest you felt a pinch, a tiny stab in your heart that felt too real, too personal for what you were about to do. Willing it away, you leaned back on your ankles instead, your hands dipping into the waistband of his pants to pull down his slacks. Lifting his hips to help you ease them down, a quiet grunt escaped him, a deep sound that traveled down your spine and pooled in your core.

Behind the soft cotton of his underwear the firm hard line of his cock strained against the fabric. The sight of him, large and heavy, and hidden, had your eyes widening with lust, and a slickness soiling the gusset of your panties.

"You want my cock, don't you sweetheart?" he coaxed, his free hand finding your jaw where he cupped it, squeezing your cheeks together.

"Y-yes," you breathed out, your smile straining against his grip before you dropped your mouth open, showing him your tongue.

"There you go, baby– good girl," he praised, pressing his thumb down on your tongue and rubbing the saliva around. A soft moan caught in your throat at the praise, and behind the camera Logan's eyes darkened at his new discovery.

Wrapping both your hands around his wrist, you held his hand in place as you closed your lips around him. Slowly, you moved your head, up and down, up and down, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked on his thumb like you would his cock. Logan's eyes were intense behind his glasses, his jaw clenching tight while he stared into your own.

"Such a filthy little thing f'me– so desperate for my cock down your throat you'll suck anything, ain't that right?"

A choked moan escaped you; they way he talked to you adding fuel to the fire in your core. Between the seam of your cunt you ached, wet arousal dripping into your soiled panties. He must've watched the way you melted for him, your brain turning to mush in front of him, because when he pulled his hand away, he laughed. A deep guttural thing from the depth of his chest.

"C'mon little angel," he tapped at your cheek, "Let's put you out of your misery."

Clouded in arousal, your brain stalled at the nickname, and you felt a new gush of arousal spill between the seam of your cunt. Logan's nostrils flared and a wild darkness settled over his face.

Shifting on your knees, you leaned forward to palm him through his underwear. Making sure to flick your eyes up at him (and the camera), you dragged your finger up and down gently, seductively, before you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his clothed length. Above you, Logan sucked in a breath, his free hand coming down to pet your head and press your face firmly against his bulge.

You couldn't help but breathe him in. Breathe in the heady deep scent of man, cheap whiskey and cigars – the unique scent of Logan. When you let out the softest little sigh, you felt him twitch against you, and quickly his hand on your head traveled down to the back of your neck where he pulled you back with a harsh yank.

You yelped.

"No more teasin'–" he reprimanded and let go of you, "Be a good little angel and make me come."

Logan leaned back into the leather, his body relaxed and inviting with one hand still occupied with filming you. Watching the deep furrow forming between his brows, and the way his eyes burned your face through his glasses, you could tell he wanted to take control, make you do what he wanted.

With a curling smile, knowing full and well you had the upper hand with one of his hands occupied, you slipped your eager hands into the elastic waistband of his underwear and tugged.

A wild and wiry patch of graying hair met you first, and you felt a flock of eagerness flutter in your stomach. Tugging the fabric down slowly, you made a show of revealing just an inch at a time. When you finally reached the end of him, you felt the wet head of him graze your cheek, leaving a streak of precum, as it sprung free.

His hard cock bopped heavily in front your face, and you felt your eyes widen at his size. He was big. The hefty length of him cushioned against his balls hanging heavy over the band of his underwear. Reaching a shaky hand forward you took him in your hand for the first time and familiarized yourself with the thick weight of him. With your other hand you traced the thick veins that lined the girth of him, memorizing every ridge and freckle before coming up to thumb at the fat tip where a pearl of wetness beaded.

A mix of awe and uncertainty pooled in your chest. How in the hell were you gonna fit all of him down your throat?

"'s okay, angel," he cooed, his heavy hand back to stroke over your head. His touch soothed you, a rhythmic warmth that shed all your insecurities.

With a content sigh you leaned forward and parted your lips to press a soft kiss to the leaking tip, pulling a "There you go, good girl, open your mouth f'me," from Logan. Urged on by his praise, you got a little braver. Flattening your tongue against him you started with a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, your tongue dipping into the slit to taste him in earnest.

Above you, a groan rumbled in Logan's chest, a sound that had you eagerly taking more of him in your mouth. Suckling carefully on the fat tip, you let your tongue tease the underside of him, humming in content when you felt him harden even more in your hands.

Letting the excess spit run down the length of him, it pooled over your hands where they struggled to wrap around the thick girth. Slick sounds came from your hands when you started to move them over the soft skin, coating him fully in your saliva with every tug.

"Shit, bub, y'look so fuckin' good around my cock," Logan's voice vibrated from his chest, "But y'can take it deeper, can't you? Take that big cock down your throat?"

Well, you would certainly try.

Your knees dug into the carpeted floor of the limousine, pressing a deep pattern into your skin. Popping off his cock, you sat up a little more and shifted your weight. Looking up at him through your lashes, you were reminded of the camera pointed at you. Looking straight down the barrel of his phone you sunk down further on his cock.

Dropping your jaw, you felt your lips stretch as his hefty cock filled your throat. All too quickly the head of him kissed the back of your throat and you had to fight your gag reflex. Pulling off with a gasp, your eyes widened as you looked up at him.

"It's so big," you told him, both of your slicked hands jerking him in a slow rhythm.

"I know, angel," he cooed, his thumb running over your cheek. Leaning forward again, you placed a soft kiss to the fat head, and he hissed, "Too big f'you?"

"No," you shook your head, smearing the head from one corner of your mouth to the other, spreading the precum leaking onto your lips, and humming at the taste of him. "It's perfect– taste so perfect," you said through a pillowy kiss to the head.

With a buck of his hips, he pushed back into your eager mouth, slipping the fat head through your swollen lips and into your flexed throat, "That's it– right where it belongs, huh?"

Fitting him as deep as you could down your throat you felt dizzy with desire, an almost overwhelming feeling; the smell of him so close, how he filled your mouth and made your jaw ache. When your nose pressed into the grayed patch of wiry hair at the base of his cock, you spluttered with need, spit soaking the length of him as you came off him with a cough.

In an instance, Logan was on you, his free hand petting your cheek as he searched your eyes, "You okay?" I wouldn't be until after, when you edited the video that you'd realize he'd dropped the phone, focusing only on you in that moment.

"Yes," you replied, looking into his eyes with a toothy smile, "I want more– I want your cum."

"Fuck," he hissed, letting go of your cheek and leaning back into the leather seat, pointing his phone at you, "Go on."

Fitting him back down your throat again, you got lost in it as you found a rhythm. With a hand stationed at the base, you bobbed your head, letting your tongue dance over the length. More saliva dripped down and pooled over your hand, slicking up his pubes. It was messy, and hot, sticky and wet. Above you, Logan muttered praises between grunts and moans, encouraging you to take him deeper and deeper.

Feeling your throat loosen with every bob of your head, you pushed down and swallowed around him. Your eyelashes fluttered as you gagged and coughed, tears starting to prickle from your eyes, but you were determined to please him– to make him feel good.

When his hand came down to wrap around your throat, his thumb skating over your neck to feel himself, your eyes rolled back in your head in pleasure – the sight of you making Logan let out a deep growl. He kept the hand clasped around your throat as he started to buck his hips, feeding you his cock in small lazy thrusts.

"Right there, angel, so fuckin' good f'me… my good girl– choke on it," he mumbled.

You hummed around him at the praise, the vibrations pulling another deep moan from him. Fucking your face, bubbling spit trickled out the corner of your lips, soaking him and the coarse hair on his balls where they slapped heavy against your chin. Slipping a hand between your thighs, you couldn't help but touch yourself through your underwear – the white cotton translucent and drenched with your arousal.

Chasing his high, Logan's thrusts started to come quicker. More and more saliva overflowed, dripping down your bare chest and slicking you up in depravity. The grip Logan had around his phone was lazy, but he made sure to capture the way the shifting colors of the low limousine light gleamed over your slicked up chest.

"Such a good fuckin' throat–" he growled, squeezing around your throat as he pushed himself as deep as he could. Your nose brushed the wiry patch of his pubic hair, and you felt yourself start to gag around him as your lungs squeezed and throat tightened. He kept you down as you spluttered and swallowed around the length of him, and when the edges of the world started to blur he pulled you off with a jerk.

Gasping for air and filling your lungs with lost breaths, the hand Logan had wrapped around your neck was now pushing your own hand away to wrap around himself. The tears on your cheek mixed with the strings of saliva on your chin, as you looked up at him through fluttering lashes. Watching him stroke his cock, your eyes widened with interest as you shifted on your knees to sit up straighter.

His hard cock pulsated and throbbed with need as he stroked. Up and down you watched his hand; watched how beads of precum drooled over his fingers, mixing with your saliva before it dripped down onto your chest. A primal feeling came over you – an urge so strong to taste him come undone and claim you as his.

"Please," you begged, the fat head ghosting against your lips with every jerk, "come for me, please– wanna taste you so badly."

Logan's grunts and growls grew deeper and wilder as he stroked himself faster. "Look at me, angel," he ordered, and when your eyes locked with his, combined with a final hard stroke, he aimed the wet tip towards your face and came hard.

The first pump of his sticky warm seed, made you flinch before a smile widened and you leaned closer. Dropping your mouth open, he came all over your face, coating your cheeks, your nose, and forehead. Thumbing at the tip, he aimed at your waiting mouth to squeeze out the last few drops, and he finally let you taste him.

Wrapping your lips around the head, you suckled around him through content hums. You were covered in his cum, claimed, feeling the sticky seed drip down the bridge of your nose. You loved the way he tasted, salty and bitter, like Logan.

When the feeling of your tongue dancing over his sensitive head became too much, he pulled away with a hiss. His phone was still aimed at your face, and a little more clear-headed he filmed the aftermath of his orgasm closer.

"Even prettier with my cum on your face, angel," he said, letting his finger drag over your skin to collect his cum.

Pretty.

"Thank you," you whispered, your throat hoarse as he fed you his cum.

You hummed around his finger as he cleaned you up, making sure not a single drop would go to waste, and when he was pleased with his work after you'd shown him your empty tongue, he cupped your cheek.

"Good little angel," he told you with a pad, and pressed the stop button on his phone.

Back at your apartment the buzz of the excitement of the night lingered as you replayed the scene on your computer. You thought about Logan, about where he was and who might sit in the seat where you'd sucked him off only hours earlier. You thought about how filthy his mouth had been, and how much it had turned you on. And lastly, you thought about how you couldn't wait to see him again, and for him to finally fuck you.

Editing the video together, the last thing you did before you fell asleep was upload. Logan had taken a photo of your hand over his clothed cock before he'd left you, a picture that was now set as your profile picture. All tuckered out, you closed your computer and fell back against your pillows, dreaming of the smell of leather and cheap whiskey.

James & Angel ✨👼 📍 Texas subscribers: 15,478

1 post: "cute girl gives older limousine driver a sloppy blowjob"

..................

hopefully this was okay? i have concepts of a part 2 lol so please don't ask for it. instead, a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and/or tell me what you'd comment under james' & angel's first video! my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[sceletaflores]

woo, my baby's got me all mixed up!

feat: logan howlett & wade wilson

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, swearing, a bastard doomed polycule, more of 'why have just one bf when you can two bf's and why have just two bf's when you can have two bf's that are also each other’s bf's???', p in v, double penetration, one (1) single use of daddy, creampie(s), fingering...kind of (fem!receiving), oral sex, face sitting, face fucking, straight up nasty porn w/ zero plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: this is a shorter one-shot but i can't not format it like a full fic i have to or i'll get hives. this is also just pure freak nasty gross actually probably the filthiest thing i've ever written that i thought up off too much nyquil pm last night. kisses!

wade gets to whiskin’ (and logan's there too)…

"You're killing me babe," Wade groans lowly, cheek pressed to the slick skin of your inner thigh. "If my balls didn't feel like they just got the shit beat out of them in a back alley I'd be as hard as David Hasselhoff watching David Hasselhoff movies."

His hand is at work between your thighs, thick index finger slipped into your sensitive, puffy pussy.

It should gross you out that he loves doing this so much. It should make your stomach twist with all the unpleasant feelings a normal person might get.

It should, but it doesn't.

The familiar stretch is lost from taking Logan and Wade at the same time, a rare thing in your sex life because of how big they both are. But you were in a mood tonight.

Your pussy still clenches around him, trying in vain to tighten up, not used to feeling so empty.

The subtle pressure of Wade’s finger toes the line between pleasure and the sharp burn of 'almost too much' as it swirls along the sensitive walls of your pussy.

The first time he did it you were too fucked out of your mind to do anything other than ask what the hell he was doing.

"Gotta mix it up babe," was his reply, as easy as anything. "Don't want the baby batter to curdle, if you know what I mean."

Your heart stopped, flames lapping their way up your body as Wade scooped the thin line of come trickling from your abused hole to fuck it back in, back where it belonged.

It was so filthy, so depraved that it made you go liquid between your legs.

Your eyes almost immediately slid over to Logan, ready to see him shaking his head in irritation like he usually did whenever Wade ran his mouth in bed. You found nothing, no deep grimace or raised brow in sight.

There was an unmistakable heat in his gaze that matched your own, the inky black of his pupils blown so wide you could hardly see the hazel of his irises.

The casual raise of his right shoulder when he met your eye was undermined by the way his cock started to harden where it laid against his thigh, effectively tattling on him.

It told you all you needed to know about how he really felt watching Wade between your spread legs. That alone was enough to get you ready to go all over again.

It sort of became a thing after that.

"I'm not even doing anything..." you mumble breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't have to baby," Logan purrs from behind you, lips pressed to the top of your head. His hand skimming down the side of your body is enough to make goosebumps pebble along your skin, "Look perfect just like this."

It's been hours now, but they're still going. You're convinced that the two of them are the world's biggest horndogs, just once is never enough.

You lost track of tonight's rounds sometime after number five, not counting mouth and hand stuff of course. And it's starting to catch up to you, you’re tired, spent.

Wade curls his finger just right, brushing against the spot inside you that has a broken whine passing through your grit teeth. Your thighs start to tremble as a smug grin spreads across his face.

"Yeah, there it is," he teases, his voice low. He keeps the tip of his finger snug against that spot, rubbing firm circles over the sensitive nerves. "That's that spot ain't it, gorgeous."

"Wade," you mewl, hands fisting the sheets as you fight to keep still. You're worried too much squirming will make their come start dripping out around Wade's wrist, and you can't have that.

There’s a sudden silence to your right, the heaviness of it pulling at your attention. You shift slightly, catching the faintest rustle of movement from Logan.

His breath is warm against the crown of your skill, his strong chest still plastered to your back—but he's too quiet, too still. You tilt your head just enough to peek at him out of the corner of your eye, and the sight alone is almost enough to make you come on the spot.

Logan is leaning against the headboard lazily, arm that isn't circled around your waist snaking down his own with the hard length of his cock in his hand.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him, red and leaking pre-come all over his knuckles each time he twists his fist over the thick head. Your hips grind down unconsciously, a needy moan falling from your parted lips. The wet sound of it has your cheeks burning, eyes fixed on the way his heavy balls bounce with each rough tug, still so full.

"Fuck, that's it," Wade murmurs, slipping a second finger inside you while he presses a shit-eating grin to the soft skin of your lower stomach. "You like it when daddy jerks off while I'm knuckle deep in you?"

"Watch it," Logan mutters warningly, tone gone low and dark as spilled ink. His hand doesn't slow, the loose grip of his fist slipping up and down his dripping cock in time with the slick squelch of your pussy.

Your hips buck up against Wade’s hand, a loud whine tearing from your chest at the dirtiness of this whole thing. The familiar heat starts to stir in your belly, your pussy drooling more mess over his wrist the longer he plays with you.

Wade barely muffles his chuckle against your hip, dropping a quick kiss there before pulling his soaked fingers from your velvety warmth. You whine at the loss, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

You’ll both get what you want soon enough.

"Alright, we should all know the drill by now people," he announces to you and Logan with a loud clap, pulling away from between your thighs to roll flat onto his back.

“Time to hop on the saddle, John Wayne,” he finishes, giving your ass a loving tap.

Logan snorts into your hair, dropping his cock to grab your hips and gently manhandle you until you’re situated directly over Wade’s face while Logan kneels in front of you. The jut of his cock bobbing inches away from your mouth.

Wade’s greedy fingers pry your swollen lips apart to watch the way his and Logan’s come starts to seep out from you, falling to drip onto his bare chest. He blows over the wet length of you, the cool air from his mouth has your hips twitching down in search of any friction you can get.

“Not so fast,” he scolds lightly, grinding his knuckle against the wet seam of you. Your nails dig crescent moons into his scarred shoulders, threatening to break the skin.

“You’ve gotta savor this moment, hot stuff,” he says slowly, leaning up to press a kiss directly over your throbbing clit. “You got the best seat in the house, don’t take it for granted–”

"Enough," Logan grunts, heavy hands falling on your shoulders to push you down on Wade's face, fully closing the gap. "Quit runnin' your damn mouth and make our girl feel good, red."

Wade's hands tighten their hold on your thighs, his hips bucking up off the mattress like he can't help it. His surprised moan rumbles against your clit, loud and shameless.

You cry out at the first drag of his tongue over your aching pussy, hot and wet as it slides through your dripping slit. You pitch forward, too caught up in pleasure to think clearly as you take Logan’s cock into your mouth. You take him all the way down to the root in one swift move, burying your nose in the dark hair surrounding the base. 

"Fuck," Logan bites out, eyes twisting shut as he feels your warm throat enveloping him. He takes your hair in his fist gently, just holding it as you swallow around him. 

Your hands move to rest on his thick thighs, nails scratching over the hair scattered along his skin. His breath shutters in his chest, his hips rolling forward ever so slightly, chasing the tight heat of your mouth.

The mix of your tongue tracing along the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock and the low, wet sounds of Wade devouring you has him pulsing in your mouth.

Your thighs shake on either side of Wade's head, the steady grip of his hands the only thing that keeps you from collapsing into a boneless heap on the mattress.

Your hips twitch the tiniest bit, rocking forward enough to grind your clit over the slope of his nose. He groans under you, squeezing the meat of your thighs in encouragement as he swirls his tongue through the mess dripping from your hole.

“That’s a good girl,” Logan praises gruffly, his hips speeding up. “Shut him up, baby. Make him fuckin’ eat it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, dragging your pussy along Wade’s mouth faster. You moan desperately around your mouthful, brain going hazy around the edges.

The frantic pace you set only makes their come leak from you faster, dripping down Wade’s face faster than he can keep up, and there's just so much.

A steady, thick stream of it that feels almost never ending thanks to Logan coming like he busted a pipe and absolutely flooding your insides every single time.

Wade doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest though, swirling his tongue along you with a new sense of urgency. His hands grip your hips tighter, his blunt nails digging into your skin deliciously as he slurps and sucks with unbridled enthusiasm, chasing every drop of come.

He’s sloppy with it, come sliding down his cheeks and chin in thin rivers of white.

Logan’s rough breath hitches above you, his fingers tightening in your hair as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks just the way he likes. His growl sends a thrill down your spine.

"C'mon, Wilson," Logan grunts, his hips speeding up. When you peer up at him, you can see the goading smile that just barely tugs the corner of his mouth up.

“Spitters are quitters, you know that."

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[imaginesbymonika]

Not a violent dog | Part 1

Pairing: Logan x fem!Reader

Plot: Back in Wade‘s world Logan meets someone he thought he would never ever see again.

Warnings: slight spoilers for Deadpool 3!!!! mentions of death, angst, cursing, and fluff at the end if you squeeze your eyes at the screen, I haven’t written in A WHILE so bear with me

Masterlist

Wade met you in 2016, while he was staying at the X-Men mansion. You didn’t look up from your spot behind the counter when he came into the kitchen, your eyes were observing how the colorful cereal chunks were floating in the brownish milk. It didn’t take long for him to ultimately recognize you. “You’re Y/N!”, he exclaimed loudly, as if he made the discovery of a lifetime:” Cat Claw, was it, right?” You didn’t respond, instead, your y/e/colored eyes solely looked up. At the sight of his face, you slightly tilted your head. He immediately began ranting about how he truly believed that you could have had your own franchise if Sony cared enough about women before he made a shiver run down your spine.

“You’re Logan’s girl, right?”, he asked innocently, however, the next thing Wade knew, was how the bowl of cereal slammed against the wall right next to his face. He didn’t flinch, instead, he merely ran his finger down the milk stains before putting them into his mouth:” Oat milk, how responsible of you. We should all take better care of Mother-Earth, con-.” But before he had the chance to end his sentence, you made a few long steps toward him until your faces were only a couple of centimeters apart from one another. “That is so hot.”, Wade whispered while you studied his burned features.

“Don’t you ever take his name into your mouth again, or I’ll cut your tongue out!”

“That’s even hotter!”

Wade very quickly learned that despite your powers, your inability to die, and your unbelievably harsh persona you carried a lot of heartbreak inside. Things between you and Logan didn’t end well. You heard about his death through Charles Xavier, a couple of months after he mysteriously disappeared. And never getting any actual explanation or closure had turned you into a person no one could recognize anymore. You were always angry, short-tempered, and mean like a nervous dog. Because let’s call it by its name: you were beyond hurt. There was no term in the dictionary that could fully define how you felt about the whole situation.

So when Wade came across the other Logan, he eventually brought you up. “You’re a hero in my world, you know. Everyone idolizes you.”, Wade explained, looking down at the canned food and taking it into his hands:” No wait, scratch that- almost everyone loves you.”

Logan, who was sitting with his back turned to Wade only scoffed:” Whoever that person is, they’re probably smarter than the rest.” “Yeah, maybe.”, he simply replied, looking out of the window:” I mean, she doesn’t talk about it. Except for this one time where she was really, really drunk and we sang karaoke together…it was terrific.”

“She?”

Wade turned his head:” Yeah, Y/N.” He observed how Logan abruptly tensed up, almost as if the name alone switched on something inside of him:” Say it again.” And for one short second one could've argued that Logan was begging. The sound of his voice was almost vulnerable.

The man in the red outfit blinked a couple of times before he gazed into the open air:” We are about to find out something significant for the plot, guys!”, he whispered excitedly before clearing his throat and turning back to Logan: “Y/N, you know- the X-Man. Wasted potential if you ask me, Sony could’ve made so much money off of her. She’s really popular with women and girls above the age of 14, I-.”

“Cut the bullshit!”, he turned in his chair, eyebrows furrowed:” You are telling me that in your world, she is still alive?”

“What a plot twist!”

Turns out, Logan lost his version of you years ago on a mission. “It was supposed to be an easy one.”, Logan explained, while the two men wandered through the desert-looking realm:” Get into the lab, eliminate the mutant killing weapons, and then leave again-.” He took a deep breath, while his eyes roamed over the uninhabited land. His angry eyes suddenly much softer and sadder:” We thought we killed every guard. The bullet came out of nowhere, and hit her right in the chest.”

Only the sound of the wind cut through the stillness. „ We were supposed to get married. Charles had already promised that we would be able to build a home in the woods next to the School. So she could become a teacher… she always adored the mutant children that lived there. Said she wanted some of her own one day, with me…”

Wade stared at the ground:” I am sorry.” But Logan shook his head in comeback:” It’s all good. That’s how life is.“

“That’s what she always says as well.”, Wade muttered under his breath, as the two continued walking:” But I know she's always lying to me.”

[chiyuuchu]

I. The plot twist of admiration <3 (1st August 2024)

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Prompt! The girls are figuring out who could be the one sending Y/n all these gifts.

second part here!

A/N i’m ngl, i giggled writing this

It had been a few weeks since Y/N started receiving anonymous gifts on her desk: bouquets of flowers, boxes of her favorite sweets, and bottles of her preferred drinks. Each day brought a new surprise, and the girls in Class 1-A were buzzing with speculation about who the mysterious admirer might be.

Mina, who loved a good mystery, was the first to voice her theories. “You know, I think it might be Midoriya. He’s always paying attention to what everyone likes. He could be the type to remember your favorites and surprise you.”

Momo, thoughtfully considering Mina’s suggestion, nodded. “That’s true. He is very observant and considerate. But what if it’s Kirishima? He’s such a romantic. It would make sense for him to shower someone with gifts.”

Kirishima, who happened to overhear the conversation, laughed and shook his head. “You guys are way off. I don’t even know what’s going on!”

“Wait.. You know who it is? Tell us, tell us!” Mina pleaded.

“Hey! I never said that I knew.” He chuckled.

Todoroki was another candidate in their discussions. “Todoroki could be a possibility too, ribbit.” Tsu suggested. “He’s a real gentleman and always seems so reserved. Maybe he’s showing his appreciation in his own way.”

Tokoyami was also brought up. “And what about Tokoyami?” Jirou pondered. “He might have a knack for quietly admiring someone.”

Despite their numerous guesses, Bakugou’s name never came up. The girls agreed that Bakugou was far too brash and temperamental to be involved in anything so romantically inclined.

One evening, Y/N was in the dorms’ kitchen, searching for her favorite drink. She had just realized that her last bottle was missing and was feeling frustrated. As she rummaged through the fridge, Bakugou walked in, holding a plastic bag.

He noticed Y/N’s agitated state and raised an eyebrow. “What’s got you all worked up?”

Y/N sighed, pulling out an empty shelf. “Someone must have taken my favorite drink. I was really looking forward to it.”

Bakugou scoffed, then reached into his plastic bag and pulled out a bottle of Y/N’s favorite drink. “Here. I just bought a few. Don’t make such a fuss.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as she took the bottle from him. “You—”

Bakugou didn’t wait for her to finish. “Whatever. I’m outta here.”

The next day, Y/N found a new gift on her desk—this time, a beautifully wrapped box of her favorite pastries. As she unwrapped it with a smile, the girls began their speculations once more.

“It’s gotta be someone who’s been paying close attention,” Mina said. “Maybe it’s still Midoriya?”

“Or Kirishima,” Momo added. “What if the other day he said it wasn’t him was an act.”

“Or Todoroki,” Kirishima laughed and suggested, rejoining the conversation. “He’s always so polite and thoughtful.”

“Or maybe Sero,” said Hagakure. “He could be into you, who knows.”

Y/N smiled to herself, thinking about Bakugou’s recent actions and his subtle but considerate gesture in the kitchen. She decided to keep her suspicions to herself, enjoying the mystery and the warmth of the gifts.

As she bit into one of the pastries, she smiled. “I might have a pretty good idea about who it is.” The mystery of the gifts was delightful, but Y/N couldn’t help but feel a special appreciation for the person who had been making her days a little brighter, even if no one else seemed to have caught on yet.

As Y/n darts her eyes over to Bakugou In the corner of the classroom. Bakugou who was silently watching from afar had a soft smile on his face as he makes eye contact with her.

[poguelandiarafe]

broken promises | rafe cameron

pairing - rafe cameron x female reader

warnings - angst, mature language, mentions of infidelity.

summary - after coming home to rafe in bed with another girl, he tries to break up with you, claiming 'it's for your own good'. you don't let him, not allowing him to play the victim. there's a plot twist at the end btw :)

masterlist

part two

--------

"it's for your own good, y/n. you know it is."

the room is heavy with tension as you stand in front of rafe. as you stand in front of the man who, for the past three years, always told you he'd do anything for you, who told you how much he loved you every day. now all those words feel meaningless.

he's sat on the edge of the bed, jaw clenched as he watches you pace in front of him. his gaze is fixed on the floor, unable to meet yours while your words punch through the air. his hands are interlocked, resting in his lap as if he's trying to restrain himself from grabbing you and forcing you to let him explain. but it's too late for that now.

"no, no, no, rafe," you say, voice trembling but getting louder with each word, "you do not get to have the satisfaction of ending this relationship. i won't let you sit here and pretend you're ending it for me when you're the one who fucked up."

your voice echoes off the walls that once contained your shared love and laughter but now contain heartbreak and infidelity. the sheets of the bed are still messy and as you glance at them, they do nothing but fuel your rage. your chest is heaving and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. the anger and betrayal course through your veins as you try to make sense of what you came home to.

"sofia." her name makes you sick to your stomach as you say it.

rafe closes his eyes, like if he can't see the mess he created it'll all go away. he lets out a shaky breath but still remains silent. you laugh dryly when he doesn't respond and his head snaps up to meet your gaze.

"say something." you demand, "say something, rafe. or i swear to god i'll walk out of here right now."

he inhales deeply, running a hand over his buzzed hair, "what do you want me to say, huh? that i regret it? of course i fucking do, but it's happened! i can't do anything to change that."

your mind is racing, thoughts consumed with images of him and sofia together. of her standing right where you are now, her laying where you lay every night.

"wow," you whisper, kissing your teeth, "you don't even care do you? you don't even care that i had to see the love of my life in my bed with another girl."

"our be-"

"don't!" you cut him off, "don't you dare say our bed, rafe. i don't want to share anything with you after what you've done."

"y/n, please, i'm sorry," he says, vulnerability lacing his words, "i never wanted this to happen."

"never wanted it to happen or never wanted me to find out?" you scoff, "you're not the victim here, rafe. nothing about this makes you the victim. not only did you cheat on me, but you're trying to end this with me? i don't think so."

his eyes darken and he lets out another shaky breath. you're staring at him intensely, waiting for his next move, for him to do something. he stands up, stepping closer to you and attempts to touch your arm before you step back.

"don't touch me." you warn, voice cracking slightly, "just... i'm gonna go. i can't be here right now."

his face falls, the depth of the mess he created finally setting in. he watches as you grab your bag, shuffling around for something inside until you find it.

"i'm pregnant, by the way," you announce, throwing the pregnancy test at him before turning around and leaving, "merry fucking christmas, rafe."

[robin-obsessed]

WHEN I SAY MY JAW DROPPED :O

this has gotta be the one of the best Soobin plotted stories i’ve ever read, real and genuinely

i did in fact read the entire 43k words in one sitting but hey, i’m on a crazy long road trip so what better time than now? and it’s taken me too long to read this fic so now or never 💪

but this entire story was a roller coaster in the best way possible, lissie. also, using blonde Soobin was so fatal to me as a person 🧎‍♀️

cast: soobin ✗ fem.reader (ft. le sserafim's chaewon, billie's suhyeon, nct's jaemin, treasure's jihoon, txt, and other idols)

synopsis: a story of you, a girl from the forest, and the crowd you meet as you move to the city. all of them pique your curiosity, but one stood out the most. a blond boy who you’ve never met, but it’s as if you’ve known him all along. in between the familiar and the unknown you have entered, the said boy will do anything to keep you alive and by his side; for now and forevermore.

genre: magical realism, psychological thriller, slice of life, slow burn, reincarnation au, angst, a tiny bit of fluff, mature content (obsessive behavior, corruption of innocence, drug(s) consumption, explicit smut)

based on: music björk's "isobel" (1995) (genre: art pop) and literature peter pan

word count: 43344 (43.3k) (wow!)

warning(s): deaths (this is a reincarnation au), amnesia, disassociation, reality warping, recreational drugs consumed and mentioned (cigarette, alcohol, cannabis), blood, gore, murders, insects (specifically butterflies and moths), morally gray characters, toxic relationship, obsessive and possessive behaviors, stockholm syndrome, mention of missing person incident, mention of parental abuse and neglect, explicit sex, unprotected sex (safety first!), oral job (f & m receiving), handjob (f & m receiving), marking, manhandling, creampie (if there is something that i forgot, let me know!)

message from the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

it was the end of january 2023 when lissie was on her way home from her relative’s house, her parents in the passenger seat as she drives out of the residential area. the radio was playing a fm that specifically plays 80s and 90s music. a song came on. she didn’t recognize it but she knew she heard it before—a style of an artist so unique embedded in her memory. “this is definitely a björk song” she states, her mom sitting shotgun replied, “of course it is.” the song stayed in her mind until she came home, still obsessed with the newest txt comeback, especially the daydream concept photos, the peter pan-esque story, and the track “farewell neverland”. that was the spark that created this brainchild, an ambitious one, and much more abstract than ashen.

after about 4 months in the making, it is here! i struggle with writing this story because there is no clear path beginning, middle, and end when i was writing it + college is hectic. but i’m proud of how it becomes! this is also part of my milestone open collab "discover: 200" which you can check out! hope you enjoy :D p.s. (y/f/n) = your full name

soundtrack / moodboard

there is a glimmer of light in the darkness.

slowly.

slowly.

it’s falling away from your embrace.

“don’t leave me.“ a voice calls. a voice that you’ve never heard. but it’s like you’ve known it ever since the start of what you are.

“i’ll find you.“ the voice faded past as fast as the blowing wind.

the light became a speck before being enveloped in the vast nothingness.

-

the stumbling of the floor comes to a slow and fading halt. the scenery behind the vertical glass stops. the people inside the small space stand up and grab their stuff from shelves hanging from the ceiling. any time they take a step, the floor sways. they’re heading the same way: to the exit.

a suitcase landed on the platform of the train station before its handle is being pulled up and dragged the weight above and underneath it. the suitcase moves along with its owner, weaving through the legs of the passengers that arrived at their destination. wheels trailing along the concrete floor where people have stepped on, the owner heaves in the noonday. the suitcase sat on the pavement as its owner tried to text the taxi driver they ordered from an app. multiple cars passed by before one arrives in front of the owner, their suitcase, a hand-carried bag on top of it, another one slung on their shoulder, and a backpack on their back.

one taxi stops nearby. a man steps out from the driver’s seat before looking at the pieces of luggage. the owner reads the taxi’s plate number, the same one from the order on their app.

“miss (y/n)?” he said a name.

“yes, i am,” you answered.

the man helps to put your luggage into the boot of the car, leaving you with your backpack as you enter the backseat. stickers and other paraphernalia greets you as it’s the first time you ride a taxi. the seat you’re sitting on is much softer than the one the train has, not believing it has only been hours since you left.

the solemn atmosphere makes you look at the concrete towers around you much more calmly, admiring the walls of it that are made of tinted glass. the sun’s reflection is on the layered surface of the towers as the vehicle moves. rumbles coming from cars, vans, and motorcycles along the road muffled by the thick body of the taxi. eyes never fail to widen when seeing colorful moving pictures on a large screen—advertising a product you’ve never tried.

“first time here?” the taxi driver says. you glance at the rear-view mirror, his smiling eyes meeting you underneath his salt-and-pepper hair.

“yes. i’m moving here,” you answered.

“well, good luck, young lady. moving to a city is hard.” the driver added a small comment, making you nod.

your head looks behind you to the road you are passing; recalling the land vehicles you rode to be here. the station you departed from and the house you left to go here. the house that another tenant has bought at the price that was offered, well, at what your grandma had offered to be sold in the will she gave to you.

none of your parents was there when you were little—your father left and your mother died in childbirth—your maternal grandmother took you in as there is no other living relative. yet, even with decades between both of you, she still has the energy to care for you. you recalled one time when she mentioned how you resembled her daughter back when she was young, telling you stories of your mother’s shenanigans back when she was your age and older.

“it’s as if her presence is in you.“

“i’m raising my daughter again through you.”

every time she says those words, you see her eyes glisten under the light before she holds them back and swallows them.

your grandma was always a green thumb. having a house near the crowded trees lets her have her own backyard—a gift from her husband when searching for land to build a house on. when you went home from school, you always found her in the backyard garden, watering the flowers and vegetables she grew or having tea by the terrace. your curiosity led you to see her doing her activities in the garden: cleaning weeds, putting manure for the nutrients and even letting you put seeds in the soil when you were just a wee little human—helping her plant another patch in the bed of dirt.

“you should always be grateful for nature, darling.“ you recall what she said, seeing the ends of her clothes covered in the dirt she didn’t bother to clean. “without it, our species might not even survive.“

your distinct memories of her landed when you catch grandma humming and singing in the garden as she cared for her plants. they danced, moving their stalks in rhythm with how she vocalised each note. she turns around to see you, letting out a small smile—as if they told her you’re there. she taught you the same thing and more when she realized you could do the same, seeing a sprout moving along with you as you dance around it on the emerald grass, its leaves waving in your direction following your jumbled hands.

the backdrop of the forest is always there when you help your grandma with her garden, doing the heavier labor as she picks out the seed and nurtures the plants in whatever she tries to make them happy and grow. the rustling sound of leaves by the breeze makes you lift your head, letting the moving air grazes your face. grandma has always taught you that the forests have something in them she connected with, a communion of fairies, magical animals, a pack of boys living in the woods who stayed together because they were ‘lost’—led by one of them. those were the connection she made while she read the fairytale books to you, making it as if it happens in real life. but the story of that lost boys always stuck with you as she reminded you that you might meet them someday.

“they’re nice boys, (y/n). all of them have sacrificed something to live in the forest. magic and perseverance help them continue living their lives. i can see you being friends with them.”

shivers will run down people’s spines if someone tells them there are things inside the forest where their house sits near, but you always think that it means new friends, new and interesting people to meet because you don’t have many friends—chastise from your lack of parents and social skills. the only friend you have is your grandma, but you always have an inkling that the lost boys your grandma told you are your friends, especially the leader that she called pan.

you and your grandma lived your lives in harmony before her old age gets to her health. while you were there beside her, sobbing your eyes out, you remember what she said that night.

“you will call mr. jung, the mail carrier who helps us send the flowers and vegetables we sell, and tell him to come here. he will help you with who to call and your next steps.“ you looked at the wrinkled skin on your grandma’s hand, holding yours in it with your warmth transferring to her slowly cooling touch.

“i, i don’t know what to do, grandma.“ you sobbed.

“you don’t need to worry. mr. jung will help you on how to be an adult, (y/n) my darling. i’m satisfied with my life and i’m glad you’re my granddaughter. i apologize if i’m not the best parent in your life, making you live this lifestyle with me…“ you don’t find a sorrowful person on her deathbed. instead, you catch a glowing smile on her face, a woman satisfied with her life.

“promise me, (y/n).“ you see her lift your hand onto her stomach.

“i promise, grandma.“ her hand lets go of yours before cupping your cheek, the warmth from her palm dissipating more and more.

“spread your butterfly wings and don’t stay here, darling.” your eyes widen at her words.

“live your life somewhere in the city and make her dream a reality. sell this house, sell the furniture in it so you have enough extra money along with your will. mr. jung will help you how to take care of it. your mother, your grandpa, and i will follow and guide you from the skies.“

you couldn’t rebut what she said. but you can only nod your head, letting her thumb brush away the fallen droplets from your eyes. your breathing is shaking as you felt the weight of your responsibility and your promise to her on your shoulders.

the dream of living in the city has always been a dream of your mother’s ever since she was together with your father—grandma relayed. but when he left, her footing crumbled as she tried to survive so the baby inside her live to see the world. your grandma told you the story the day of your graduation, but you didn’t take it in you that you will have to do it. even if you could, you’ll always want someone near and dear to you by your side.

“i- i promise. i’ll do that.“ you continue nodding your head as you stand up to call the man with your phone. hand trembles as you turn around to focus on the call, letting her close her eyes. the air seemed heavier as you talked to mr. jung, telling him to come to your home. your figure turns around when the heavy air lifted away, something reminds you to lift your shoulders and chest—a reminder to be confident. your grandma sleeps on the bed peacefully. stepping towards her figure and holding her wrist, you find no pulse as you let go of her for the last time.

the will she gave you read the same thing: “go to the city and live your life there.“ and you do just that. you learned lessons upon lessons about how to be an adult with mr. jung, who your grandma considers a partner that helps her with her business—a long-time friend of your family as his mother is friends with your grandma. he was the last person you recognized as you enter the station, hugging him tight as you left him, a streak of tears trailing down his cheek as the last person of your family left your little village.

“here is your apartment.” your landlady opens the door as you enter the open space, daylight coming in from the windows and balcony. boxes upon boxes litter one side of a wall of the living room, tracing the sticker with your fingers to recognize a few of them to be from your old home address.

with the will she gave you, you can afford a one-room apartment near a college campus. you liked how your bedroom splits from the living area as you want to divide your privacy if you ever have someone visit you here. she shows you the pieces of furniture she received from your orders based on recommendations by mr. jung—considering the size of the room and the look you want it to be with his and the landlady’s consultations. she is a sweet lady from the conversations you had with her on call or chat. and she can’t help but sympathize with your situation when you told her why you move here, making her help with your moving and even buying decorations for your first apartment.

“i didn’t unpack what you order or send here so that you can arrange it yourself.” the landlady spoke as you entered the bedroom. it is as spacious as you thought from the picture she gave you. a mattress rested on the floor with unassembled frames of a bed near it right by where the bathroom is supposed to be. you dropped your pieces of luggage right in front of a covered oval mirror leaning beside the wardrobe. a small smile emerges with your eyes marvelling at the unit back and forth, making the landlady giggle with joy. you walked to the living area when she holds your hand and give you a note on how to reset the keypad lock for the front door.

“take care of the apartment like how you want to take care of yourself. rent is due at the end of the month. and if you have settled, you can come to my apartment for dinner. my treat.” she said as you both walk to the front door.

“i, thank you so much,” you spoke in disbelief.

“you’re very welcome, (y/n). i hope you enjoy your stay here.” the landlady said as she waves you goodbye and left to go to the lift. your eyes scan the other five doors in the hallway of your floor before following the instructions to reset the code to your home on your own. she mentioned how all the tenants living on this floor are also young adults like you when she brought you here.

hearing the clicking of the closing door, you turn around to gaze at the space that you can call your home. one thing, in particular, catches your eye; the only thing on the balcony. the same little sprout who danced with you is now in a clay pot, white petals tilted towards the soil as if a dark cloud is resting above it. as you walk closer, it notices your presence—letting you see it straighten its stems with a little wiggle signalling to you “i’m okay!“ from the journey it went through as you shipped it here along with your other belongings.

after picking up the swiss army pocket knife from your backpack—a gift mr. jung gave before you part ways—you open the boxes one by one. pulling out the little racks that you’ve bought online but also the items you’ve shipped from back home. specks of dust are flying everywhere and even making you sneeze as you note to wipe the items one by one with a washcloth. you open a box full of story books grandma used to tell you as you put them on your dining table, fairytales that you’ve remembered from every cover of the books before the word “pan“ meets your eyesight.

you gaze at the cover as the memories are coming back to you. how you remember to look towards your forest in your black outfit, coming back from your grandma’s funeral as you sat on the back porch—the floras she took care of are wilting without her presence. a mix of determination and fear mixed into your head as you say goodbye to the boys that come into your dreams and imagination, specifically pan.

a bell ring startles you.

you glimpse towards the door before going to the small monitor that the landlady showed you, putting your pocket knife on the table. you didn’t expect her to come back faster as she seems to be busy with other errands. but when you see the grainy footage from the front door camera, you were startled at seeing people around your age. five people, to be exact.

are they the neighbors she mentioned who lived in the other five rooms?

you thought about it as you walked to the door and unlock it, letting a small crack enough for you to gaze at the five figures.

“hello, neighbor!” one girl said. she has a short hairstyle with the inner layer bleached—a black tank top decorating her figure. your eyes widen as you let the door ajar, glancing at them one by one. beside her is another girl with her long black hair straight down, and three guys with variations of hair colors. one of them stood out, having blond hair and taller stature than the other two.

“h-hi…” you stammered as the other girl lets out a small laugh.

“the landlady told us that there’ll be a new neighbor moving in on our floor a few days back, so we prepared a welcoming gift for you. she mentioned that you’re our age so i guess it’s proper for us to welcome you here since all of us are college students and buddies.” the other girl said, holding a cake that is sliced so you can see the colorful flecks inside it, as one boy who wears a red bomber jacket nod at you.

“well, thank you. i didn’t expect any welcoming gift. you can put the plate on my dining table.” your words reached their ears, leaning away as you let the people come into your messy apartment. you block the mess from their view with your body, making them stand on their own shoes after pulling them off by the door.

“i just arrived here an hour ago. so, i’m really sorry for the mess.”

“nah, don’t worry. i relate to you so much right now.” another boy said. you give a glimpse to identify the boy as the one with the green oversized t-shirt, colorful tattoos scattered on their forearms.

“crap, we haven’t introduced ourselves.” the boy in the red jacket as all of them line up.

“i’m jihoon.” the boy said before nudging the girl beside her.

“my name is suhyeon and the other one is chaewon.” the girl with long black hair continued before nudging the short-haired girl.

“i’m jaemin and this is…” the boy with the green t-shirt said to the blond one.

“i’m soobin.” he lets out a small smile before looking away. the intimidating aura coming from him makes you cower before you regain your courage and take in everybody.

“nice to meet you, everyone. i’m (y/n),” you speak as they all look towards you, even soobin turns his head back when you said your name. the other four seem to nod their heads at each other before shifting their focus to you.

“you know what? we can help you, (y/n).” jihoon spoke as he stray from his group, moving to the makeshift path you made from the floor that is full of bubble wrap by its side.

“i guess-“

“i agree. more workforce to help you around doesn’t feel wrong, isn’t it?” jaemin continues what jihoon is thinking as both boys let out a small smirk at each other.

“then after this, we can chat about you and us too, if you want. introducing one another.” suhyeon answered as you turn your body to find the four already scrambling the living room full of boxes and plastic-covered furniture, other than soobin who is standing with an unreadable expression.

“okay, but- wait.”

“guys…” you heard a booming voice beside you as you turned toward the source. soobin has his forearms on his back as he stares at the others, all of them facing him—including you discreetly.

“chaewon and suhyeon can help in (y/n)’s bedroom. jihoon, jaemin, and i can help here. i’m also guessing that you haven’t made your bed frame?” his head turns to you, making you instinctively nod your head before soobin continues, “we assemble it at the end, got it?”

the other four said a ‘yes’ as you turn to soobin, stunned. soobin seems to notice as you catch him taking a peek from the corner of his eye.

you walked to your bedroom following the two girls as they stood around your luggage. it feels weird to know someone so easily tells others to do things. but you realize if it’s not you, the owner, how will they arrange your stuff in your apartment?

“well, i’m thinking of putting the clothes in this suitcase into this wardrobe, then the shirt and pants on the shelves inside.” with that comment from you, all of you get to work.

the two girls nod their head from your guidance, opening the suitcase and bags of clothes you brought as you glimpse outside the room to view the boys opening the boxes with anything that they could of. you wanted to help your new acquaintances, but when you turn to grab your pocket knife off the table, you were met with an empty one. the search for red knife goes one by one, lifting the leftover bubble wrap and empty boxes then glancing at both jihoon and jaemin’s hands who are helping you unpack your orders—assemble if needed. lastly, you land your eyes on the blond boy’s, the blade folded as he grips it in his palm. you tried to approach him, finding his head drooped while looking at his other hand. the same fairy tale book you saw is now in his grasp: the one with the lost boys and pan.

though you can’t see how he looks at it, his vision lingers there—a beat too long—before he shook his head and turn to the side, letting him glance at you from the corner of his eyes. you give a brief tight-lip smile before you look at your pocket knife in his hand, the one that he holds so tight.

“i’ll do the box opening. you can do the arranging.” his voice, soobin’s, said as he give the book to you before pulling away and following what the other boys do, letting you stand there, collecting your thoughts before you arrange the stuff you’re putting in your new home.

the sky has moved from a light blue to an orange as you all rested in your new living room. empty boxes stacked near the entrance and dust still gathered on the floor as you told them you’re alright to sweep it by yourself. the toolbox that jihoon brought from his room saved the assembling part of the bed frame as he sat near suhyeon. chaewon lets out a victorious cheer as she rests her head on the cushion near where jaemin is sitting. you and soobin sit side by side on the floor as you held back a wide smile whilst looking at the tidy room, imagining any other decorations to be added if you have the money and time, and certainly a friend for your little flower on the balcony.

“i-“ you let out a small giggle. “i can’t thank any of you enough.” your heart palpates as you heard the chorus that came from the others.

“you’re welcome, (y/n). it’s the least we can do for our new neighbor.” chaewon reaches for your hand, giving it a small tug.

“not the least, if i consider it. you’ve all done so much yet i don’t know enough about any of you.” you chuckled, staring at the rest of them and how you were the only one out of place in terms of fashion and style. you’ve noticed how each of them are stylish in their own way, urban streetwear being the main look that you’ve connected between all five of them—making you feel left out once again in your hand-me-down overalls and shirts. the sense being left out coming back after a long time it has disappeared since the day of your graduation.

“well, now that we’re done.” suhyeon stands up and grabs the fruitcake she brought and nudges it to you. “we can get to know each other more.”

you give a small gaze at the cake and tea spoon right beside it before retrieving it from her. “okay.” you replied.

“i don’t know if mrs. bae is kidding or not, but you are around our age, right?” jaemin asked. you chuckled as you cut the fruitcake.

“i am 21. all of you are too?” you said, knowing deep down what they will mention after it.

“yeah. we are!” chaewon enthusiastically said, earning a head shake from jaemin as she continues, “oh, did you move here to go to college here? you’ve transferred your credits, right?”

“i-“ you hold on to the plate, hand on the spoon as you scrape the cake into it. “i don’t go to college.” your shoulder shrugs down as the rowdy atmosphere is now unnaturally quiet, making you able to make out the distant sound of engines running down the road from fathoms below the floor you are in.

“i couldn’t afford college. i move to this area cause i find it the cheapest and i could blend in, you know.” you give a taste of the fruitcake, letting the sweetness melt onto your tongue as if fairy dust was sprinkled on it—reminding you to one of your fairytales where the fairies eat cake like what you’ve described. it tastes like something your grandma bakes, letting the memories simmer in your thoughts that you hope none of the people in front of you notices how the mix of emotions you’re feeling makes your eyes tear up.

“hey…” jihoon leans forward from his seating posture. “you don’t have to be ashamed for not going to college…”

you nodded your head, remembering your grandma’s message on how college doesn’t equate to success. but, when you found out you were the only graduate of your high school year to not leave the small town for college, you were devastated. you wanted to be equal with your peers, though not in a friendship sense. but the resources you have couldn’t afford it and you don’t know if you can repay a loan if you take one out. so you gave it up and let yourself be until grandma told you to live here.

“thank you. i risk everything to be here. i don’t have a safety net until i got a job and i haven’t applied to anything.” you then continue to eat, wallowing with yourself as you realized how unprepared you are. how you want to punch your brain for not thinking of any plans once you came here. sporadic is a word that can be defined for you, but grandma always reminds you that life is an adventure, no matter how planned or unplanned it is.

“wait.” you heard suhyeon exclaimed. “speaking of a job, all of us are working at the same place. and they overloaded us with customers that we may open a position up to help and cover more.” she added, making your eyebrows raise.

“you do?”

“yeah, soobin knows, right? we need more people?” suhyeon asked the boy beside you.

“uh yeah, but i don’t think that is (y/n)’s cup of tea.” soobin replied. you tilted your head towards him, eyebrows furrowed.

“why? where do you all work?”

“it’s a pub near here called neverland.” jihoon answered.

you’ve never seen yourself working at a pub. you don’t even recognize what job prospect is available here in the city because you only ever see yourself as either a gardener or a florist—most of the time you spend is with the floras in your house. but you guess it’s much better than working somewhere unsafe and you could use the cooking skills you learned back when you replace your grandma to care for your household’s everyday meals. you desperately need money and grandma asked you to spread your wings—try new experiences—and it’ll be much better if you work with people you know rather than complete strangers.

“i could work there.” you said, “but one of you has to teach me how to mix the drinks if i’m being put at the bar…”

“of course, we will.” chaewon said, a warm smile on her face as the light outside shone on her. the dark has shown up as they pushed the light of the day away. one by one, all of you looking outside the window to figure out the time that has passed. “i guess it’s our time to go, right, guys?” she added.

the chorus of agreement sounds as all of you stand up and you brought them to your front door. you replied to their farewells as they scurried one by one in the hallway, doing whatever they planned to do, leaving you alone with the blond boy.

“i guess i’ll get going?” he asked as he turned to face you, his figure leaning against your doorframe.

“yeah, i have to sweep the floor and clean myself up because the landlady asked me to join her for dinner.” you lick your dry lips. “it’s, it’s been a long day for me.” you exhaled.

“you definitely deserve a rest,” soobin looks down at the floor, “and can i ask for your number?”

“m-my number??”

“yes, for the job and for joining our group chat. we love for you to be there.” soobin replied. your mind recalibrated from thinking outside of the realm. he wants you to join in as a friend, not whatever imagination that shows up.

“yes, yes, definitely.” you grab soobin’s phone and insert your number, giving yourself a small “test” message as you catch a chime coming from your phone deep inside the living area. when you looked up to give the phone, you catch how soobin nips his bottom lip. a look of something radiating in his eyes: warm and sweet. a slight shine that you’d seen before. but you shook your head as a sting suddenly surges in your head.

“you okay?” soobin asked, noticing how you grimaced even though you tried to not show it if possible.

“i’m fine. sorry for concerning you.” soobin shook his head, letting out a smile as you notice how dimples form on his cheeks. he stepped backwards as you step closer to hold your door open. you examine the five other doors on your floor and how each of them is where the friends you made today live. soobin walks to the door right next to yours as he punches the code into his keypad.

“see you soon enough, soobin.” you peeked behind the small space of the ajar door of your new apartment as soobin stepped in and turn around to close his door, giving one last glance at you.

“it’s good to see you, darling.”

the door close as your mind is stuck on the last word he said. a word you haven’t heard in a long time from a voice you’ve newly identified, yet you get a recollection that you’ve heard that same voice before.

closing the door of your apartment, you rush to go to the balcony and fling yourself on the railing that splits you from the outside world. your heart thumps as you collect yourself, dropping yourself to your knees as you breathe the open air. eyes staring at the buildings littering your view and one open space of shaded green that is the campus where your new friends go to.

you know you’ve listened to that voice before, but every time you tried to dig deeper, the sting comes back.

resting yourself down on the floor as you leaned your back against the railing, your eyes landing on the pot with a flower you’ve known all its life wilted as if it recognizes the sentiments you’re feeling. you let out a small smile as you stick your hand out, smoothing its petals to soothe it from a distance, seeing how your fingertips turn green just like your grandma’s.

your fingers sway in the air as the flower and leaves follow you. another leaf grows as you trace it from a stem and two shadows come into your vision. a butterfly comes and rests on your flower, but there is also a moth sitting by the side of the pot.

the way their wings contrast the shade coming from the darkening sky behind you, you let out a small smile as you watch them together. but as you stare at them closer, your head spins as it gets heavier. shaking it away, you step inside your apartment and brought yourself to clean up after a long, tiring, yet exciting day.

-

“i’ve never seen a butterfly and moth at the same time, you know?” your spoken words fly into the vast space. the bustling sound of moving leaves enters your ear, masking the waves of the ocean behind it away.

you gape at the beautiful butterfly and moth pairing under the faded illumination of the purple and orange sky—letting the day go by once again in this place. all the magical things that you’ve seen mesmerized you, making you think back on how you are here in the first place. the sensation of nature that you haven’t felt in a long while, associating it with the freedom you had without the weight of expectations.

“you could see more of this island, darling…” a warm touch rests on your shoulder and the ends of your flowy dress graze your calves. turning your body around, you gaze at the being that brought you here. his blond hair all over the place, the outer garment he wore stretches down until his covered legs, leaving the middle of his torso bare as you view how his skin glistens in the sunlight.

“if, you stayed with me here, in neverland, with the boys too.” one of his hands grazes the apple of your cheek with his knuckles. a confident gaze in his eyes with doubts speckling in. the ground crunches under both of you from the dead leaves he stood on as he steps closer.

“pan, you know i can’t stay, right?” you reminded him as he answered with a small nod that is so short and fast, you almost didn’t notice it if you hadn’t focused on him.

you can’t count how long time has gone for you back in your home, but it has been three days since you arrived in neverland. on that day when pan arrived, you were struggling to do your homework. you were mad at yourself to succumb to your adolescent life. the life you now realized is full of limbos as you can’t seem to define yourself. how your parents expected you to be proper and poise and teachers expect you to do well in your studies.

all you wanted to do was to play as you used to after seeing your younger siblings play with their friends by the street while you have to do your chores—haven’t experienced that euphoria when you are forced to face adulthood. you miss seeing stains on your dress from playing at the park where fancy-looking people also enjoy themselves, trailing down a path full of beds of flowers as you grazed your fingertips against their petals, feeling them coil to the touch. how only on this island that you can touch them again and they reciprocate by wrapping their petals around your fingertips; missing you, as if they learn about you from the plants you sightsee back home.

you wish you didn’t grow up.

it sticks into your mind as long as you remember it by the time you’ve entered secondary education. when the thought of it showed up as you detect the ink dried out from your quill—blotches of them leaving a stain on the paper you were supposed to collect to your teacher, that was when pan arrive. the boy who gave you the choice to escape your routine.

“you can stay young with us, darling,” he spoke the words that has formed in your mind to combat the specific sentence showing in your head. the corner of his mouth slightly raised as the mischievous yet sweet small smile he shows when he sets down at your bedroom door appears once again. you can’t help to be enamored by it.

pan is the most enchanting boy you’ve ever seen, much more than what the girls at your school called handsome. he is a tad bit shy but when the boys pry him to open up to you, he is the sweetest, even sweeter than your younger siblings—which you can’t believe as they are as sweet as honey. yet, he also has a sense of dauntlessness in a way, especially facing the pirates and other beings you’ve met days before as he travels with you throughout the island.

“but i can’t let go of my family either, pan,” you respond, eyes glancing at the sky above as if you can look at their phantoms back home. it is how you came here anyway, recalling caressing the cloud as the magic dust he brought levitated you to bring you here.

“aren’t they worried about me?” you sighed, speaking your mind before closing it, bracing for the answer from him.

“you know they aren’t.” you clenched your eyes. “they have not been ever since your younger brother was born.” pan told you the painful truth that is lodged into your consciousness.

you never wanted to be the oldest child in a patrilineal world. the consequences of the period you lived in where men are seen to be the wisest, even if they have older sisters. you love your siblings. you do. but you wished you were an only child so that your parents won’t set you aside.

you have told none of that information to him.

“how’d you know that?” you open your eyes and glance toward him. pan lets out a knowing smirk, eyes glinting at how you’ve caught something that he didn’t notice. it impresses him how intelligent and careful you are.

“i’ve tried to see if there are people who are similar to me, similar to the boys too. people who just want to escape the world and stay in peace, even if we have pirates such as hook who barges in.” he chuckles before continuing. “then i come across you and i saw myself in you. how you wanted more than the world had to offer to you now. when you live in that city block with your pot of flowers beside the windowsill, you’ve always looked out as if adventures are waiting for you to start it.”

and adventures did indeed start when you came here to neverland. you remembered seeing a moth resting on one of your flowers as pan introduces himself to you, witnessing you floating in your room before he grabs your hand and take you away. other than the pirates you encounter—the ink-covered captain hook and his mates, you recalled how the boys helped you save yourself from a siren’s song when you play by the beach. as they describe it to you that very night, they’re holding your body back and put rolled-up leaves to plug your ears, muffling its melody as you slowly gain your consciousness back. pan got so furious that he even encounter the siren itself, similar to what he did to the captain of the pirates. he lets you sleep with your head on his shoulder by the campfire—the only one that stays awake as his other boys are also asleep—warming you up after having 2/3 of your body submerged in the wavy ocean as you follow the siren’s melody.

you knew there were unrecognizable auras as he stares at you when you regain your consciousness, hands cupping your face as your trance falls away similar to the water by the beach, only seeing him in your sight as it clears out. your muffled hearing still helps you listen to the ocean waves as he checks all over your body for any injury you could’ve got. his eyebrows furrowed and creases formed on his forehead before you soothe him with your palm behind his back and on his shoulder blade, letting him hug you to calm him down; while he wraps you tight in his arms.

“i used to live in your world too, but circumstances in my household left me no choice but to escape. that’s how i find the boys, how we came to neverland, and how i got this magic after volunteering myself as the leader.” he stares at you with known sadness in his eyes. one part of the look he gave you is the same one as when he saved you from the pirates and the siren before the flame of anger seems to take their place as he faces them on behalf of you.

“you wanted to save me, then?” you questioned him.

“i don’t want you to be alone. you will not be when you have us. when you have me, darling.” he replies, blinking away that sadness as that unrecognizable gaze from the rescue and campfire yesterday came back. the shattered light coming from above the leaves you’re under shines on pan in the best way possible. his eyes look more alive because of it, while a few of them land on his cheeks and the area where you can catch his dimples forming.

you nodded your head, “i understand now from what you said earlier.” your hands rested on his forearm as he catches yours in his.

“nobody understands me as you do. it’s a terrifying choice for me to take, pan. but…” you wet your lip as you paused.

“i’ll stay. but you also have to let me visit them if i can.” you propose to him, to which he replied with a wide smile that makes his dimples show up. he tugs you closer to him and you felt his arms around your back, making your head fall onto his shoulder. his warmth against your skin makes your heart swell, how it can only be heightened if you’re hugging each other skin on skin. the tightness of the grip lessens as he pulls back from you but then pushes his head near yours, his forehead touching yours when you realized something plump is on your lips. his lips.

your body froze when he leans back, licking his own lips as you see his eyes looking down at your face. your cheeks started to heat up as you try your best to glance at him—eyelids fluttering—before the lights on his face faded. turning your head, you see the slowly descending sol touch the ocean surface.

“i’ll promise to take care of you, darling.” he declares, a small smile on his face. you lean your figure forward, making you have to tilt your head back so you can catch his eyes.

“it’s (y/n). my name is (y/n).” you correct him, a small smile embracing your appearance as he follows. you never told him your name as he also calls you darling, akin to how your mother called you. if you want to stay with him, surely you can trust him with your name, correct?

“you know, my name isn’t actually ‘pan’”. his reply making your eyebrows rose. pan always introduces himself as pan. even the boys call him pan every time they’re with you. but his story of staying in your world catches your attention once again. yes, his name is different compared to the boys, yeonjun, beomgyu, taehyun, and kai. it is as if pan is a title of some sort, a title given to a person who will take care of neverland and balance them. you’ve heard that name before from your world, maybe even read it in a book you’ve read, but you forgot which one is it and what it means.

his hands embrace both of your cheeks as he told you something sacred, only for you and the other lost boys.

“my name is soobin.”

-

“hey, (y/n)!”

you shake your head when someone calls your name. in front of you is a silver long table mirroring a distorted reflection of you wearing your apron and uniform for work. your eyes cast towards the source to see jihoon at the other side of the counter where the bar is, pushing his hand that is holding a piece of paper.

“order for table 6,” he told as you step towards the divider, scanning in the hand-written order for the table—you recognize is jaemin’s handwriting—and turning around when you listened to the water running and dropping into the sink as it pierces the mostly quiet room. the blond boy lets it run as he cleans a few of his kitchen utensils whilst he shifts to look at you.

“divide and conquer, (y/n)?” soobin stated which you nod, letting the note slide into his vicinity as he scans it.

“i’ll do club sandwich,” you tell him as you heard clinking coming from the bar jihoon is tending.

after the night that soobin left your unit, you received a notification from a group that is named “the lost children“, recognizing the names of your five neighbors in the member’s list. they gave you the name of the manager and co-owner of the pub, jungkook—or, as the others like to call him “kook”—to you. you expected little when you texted the manager, thinking he’ll have a much more crowded pool of candidates that are waiting to get a job too since it is one of the more popular hot spots near the campus. that’s when he called you in a few hours after you reached out and interview you the next day, meeting the tattoo-covered man with his menacing piercings resembling the appearance of pirates that your grandma has described in the fairytales you’ve remembered. he tests you on your cooking skills and many more before he then hired you on the same day, especially interested in you joining when you said you can work full time.

“our pub is full of part-timers for a reason. but we need a full-timer who can be versatile as well. help the kitchen, tend the bar, facing the customer. though your skills are rough, polish them enough and you can work here effectively.” kook said as you nodded, secretly cowering from his enormous presence. indeed, he also gave you more trust because of your scheduling, holding onto the list of ingredients and ledgers full of business numbers that you have learned to identify yourself.

students from the near campus come and do their shifts, most of them are around your age like felix, aeri, lia, and jongho. but in night shifts, your friends are your saviors. ever since you’re here with them, you’ve been following their guide on the art of serving food and beverages, rotating each of your position so you could try it all and gain every information you could get. but especially in night shifts, you’ve noticed how you—coincidentally—have been with soobin most of the time. either in kitchen staff, bar staff, or servers.

and the boy, well, he reciprocated it as if it was a pleasure for him to be with you most of the time. as if he planned this with jungkook or mingyu, the other co-owner and kook’s second in command, to put both of you together.

with a few gazes at him, your headache also comes back from time to time, bracing yourself against the nearest surface if the dice rolls and lands on the chance it happens. and each time it came, soobin is the one mostly on your side. the throbbing pain you suffered against your head piercing even your skull before his touch on your shoulders soothes you down. but now, more and more are forming as you rather waited at the kitchen staff, where only a few heads can notice than let the customer see how “unwell” you are. even with the rotation of staff, soobin is the one that stayed with you the most, with suhyeon and jaemin having a few rotations with you too.

each time, more things trigger you. seeing jihoon and his skills with his tools, seeing jaemin slouching down with a book in his hand, seeing chaewon and suhyeon giggling with each other, and even kook and his second-in-command with his hands wrapped in front of his torso. it’s like experiencing déjà vu from time to time. but you are being bombarded by them one by one. it doesn’t even feel like one to you anymore. yet, you struggle to find the right words to describe it. the memories that are being brought up come from within you, but whose memory is it from, and when did they burn them into your mind?

many nights have gone since you moved. you’ve decorated your apartment much to your liking and much more with your friends’ contributions. a lava lamp rests on the coffee table—bought by jaemin and chaewon, suhyeon gives you a scrapbook that you filled with journals and small doodles, jihoon gives you a set of kitchen utensils, and soobin gave you a music box that plays a song with a mermaid? siren? perched on top of a boulder, singing a song to you. it’s so familiar like you’ve heard the song being blown with the wind before, entrancing you before your conscience falls back.

your plants also react to your joy and pain in ways that you’ve never seen before. sprout now having friends of its own—though not much as the plants back then. they decorate the balcony of your apartment as if it’s a sanctuary that reminds you of your old house, grandma’s garden, and the forest as its background. vines grow even from the cracks of the wall as you try your best to accommodate every flora that grows in your small area. but you also see dead leaves falling onto the soil as time only moves forwards. yet even that, your green thumb helps to heal them, telling them they’re amazing as you visibly look at them repairing themselves from your energy.

in those many nights too, you’ve tried to join in on the activities your new friends do. walking around the night, eating street food in a busy neighborhood, looking at the rows of racks at thrift shops that are cheap enough for your budget, and many more. you stand at the back with soobin most of the time, trying to blend in with his street-style ensemble, reluctant to join your friends who are openly having fun. yet even being your usually quiet self, you still have fun and try to open up more.

as time goes on, you learned the dynamic of the group much more. sure, all of them are mature in their own ways, but soobin gives off a sense of dominance within the group, not just when you hang out but also when you all are working. his domineering demeanor resembles a father figure, something you experience little in real life but can also pinpoint from the many stories that you’ve learned and faded memories that have shown up.

your relationship with the others is as smooth as a sail, but with soobin? you sensed something unusual. the air around both of you is heavier than it is. how his round eyes are cold as you can feel them biting your skin. how his blond hair stands out so much it pulls out a vivid memory of yours—like you’ve seen it in an illustration before. a cartoon, maybe. all of them becoming blurry to you.

but, you also see something with soobin when you hang out with him and your friends. how he laughs with them freely. how he openly talks to them about his struggles with his homework—you learned all of their majors and found out that soobin is a literature major. how he blends in well with the thrown teases within the group, including a few thrown to you, which you tried to come back as good as they are. yet you could detect that shield he puts on whenever he nears you. it’s as if there is danger for him when he is with you, or danger for you when you are with him.

the door of the walk-in fridge needed both of your hands to be pulled, the gushing cold air coming out into the kitchen as you step inside. produces like vegetables, fruit, and meat stacked on shelves. there are the ones you have cooked with before but also ones that you are still learning to cook based on the recipe book kook gave to you; complete with instructions on how to cook it. the recipe of the club sandwich is nudged into your memories—a staple food that many came here to consume—as you pull out the fresh ingredients that you needed. each step of your movement echoes in the medium-sized room, yet it is masked by the hum of the cooling fans above, not letting you pick up anything or anyone stepping closer to you.

“hey.” you flinched from the voice as you shift to meet soobin’s towering figure beside the shorter rack—hugging your ingredients close to your chest. soobin’s eyebrows raised as he looks at how you huff and puff to let the shock out of your systems.

“soobin, don’t scare me like that.” you nudge him with your elbow as you heard his giggles before returning to scan the shelves for any missing produce you might not have grabbed.

“you know what i see this walk-in fridge like?” soobin hums as you turn to watch him with a cut of beef on his, waiting for his answer.

“a cave by the ocean.”

your eyes stayed on his figure as he picked up the ones he needed effortlessly with his long limbs, “the cold air is like the wind blowing from the sea. the ocean has an inlet into the cave that is right below a small hole in the ceiling, letting the sunshine in and reflect the blue on the walls of the cave, like how the white light of this room creates a sort of blue tint to the metal walls.” soobin gazes towards you, “anyone that likes the beach would love to stay there.”

“have you been to one?” you turn to face him, the door of the fridge at the wall across from you, eyeing him curiously.

“i have. you also, right?”

your body stiffens from his words as unidentified memories swirl up once again. closing your eyes to shake it off, you find yourself in that cave instead, overlooking a beach that stays halfway into the mouth of a wide cave. the walls reflecting the rippling water as you gaze up to find a hole that lets in a ray of sunshine. it’s like an illustration. an illustration that you’ve seen before in the fairytale book you’ve read where you finally remembered where it is from. pan.

you thought your ears were deceiving you as you didn’t mean to catch the noises in the memory. but your ears picked up the sound of laughing as you turn around to find people sitting by an unlit campfire. five figures all wearing battered clothes with ripped fabrics on their top or by their calf-covered pants. stepping closer, you felt the softness underneath you as you stare down to see yourself bare-footed on the sand and the white skirt of a dress sticking to your calves from the blowing wind.

it felt real. too real.

“darling!“ someone calls as you lift your head, seeing one of them turn head towards you. the face is fuzzy but you note how bright their hair is.

blond.

darling.

“darling.” you close your eyes and shake your head as you open to see soobin now right in front of you. the ingredients he held now gone, replacing it with your shoulders on each of his palms. his eyes in line with yours, close enough that you can look at the creases on the outer corners on both, how his bottom lip slightly jutted out—creating a discreet pout. his irises move to watch all around your face, not landing on your sight at all. you receive a light rhythmic brush on the sleeve of your upper arms, letting your breath follow the rhythm that you captured.

“fuck…” he looks down. you never heard him curse before in the weeks you have moved here, and that’s with how you, he, and the others almost hang out every night outside of your work hours. but, by the looks of it, he didn’t say it as a usual exasperation. how soobin’s face twitches to different emotions in microscopic ways amazed you. but it creates something heavy in your heart as well. soobin is very much concerned about you if he is feeling this way. his head turns away, facing the shelves nearest to you both while trailing his eyes down the ingredients inside. that’s when you picked up his mumbles, catching a few cut parts of the sentences that he spoke in rapid fire.

“- that’s too far.”

“shouldn’t push too hard.”

“she’s in pain again.”

“i knew she remember.”

“almost there.”

“soobin!” your call reaches his consciousness as you stare into his eyes, reflecting the expression he gave to you before right back to him. his rambling’s sudden stop is what you predicted as his wide eyes stare towards you. how panicky he seems like he knew what you’ve experienced is coming before you do. putting down the ingredients you held on the shelf, you turned towards him.

“i’m okay…” soobin hears you sound as you soothe him down more than when he soothes you, something that seems so natural to you even though you never had this kind of interaction with him. his figure relaxes from every caress you give. your hand rubs onto his upper arm as you sense goosebumps forming on the exposed skin of his sleeves. the hum of the walk-in fridge filled your hearing sense as you stare at his face. his tousled blond hair disarray as you trail your eyes down his apron-covered front.

a second too long. feels like millennia of knowledge injecting into you who you don’t know how to decipher.

retracting your fingers back to your own figure, you immediately pick up the ingredients and retreat toward the warm doorway. soobin not following you as you let him collect his thoughts while you quickly prepare the ingredients.

“customers are waiting, soobin,” you said to him as loud as you can from behind the counter.

“coming,” he replies as you went back to work, shaking your head from the weird yet recognizable look in the boy’s eyes.

hours pass as you both do your job, the sun already set from the glimmer of light you can see through the hole between the kitchen and the dining area. suhyeon greets you with a small smirk as you both stand by the employee’s locker room. her hand holding onto your shoulder as she asked, “you’re coming right? it’s not that often that kook has to close the pub early for the match in a few days.”

“yeah, i heard from him we could work until the latest of nights especially if your college won.”

kook’s strategy to cut your work hour for today in preparation is admirable to others. his lip and eyebrow piercings shining under the light from the ceiling as he told all six of you so. but you still can’t believe what the others said about him. how they describe him as a manipulative boss that is slowly lowering the supply cost the pub needs and the reason the ingredients are sometimes not enough. you thought he might be saving for something, but even with your limited business knowledge and scanning the sheets full of numbers he trusted to you, it shouldn’t have to cut the cost of supplies. right?

every time you checked the ingredients and brewery, you count how the quantity has dwindled more. you wanted to check on it with mingyu, but you remember he said “just trust him” every time you tried.

other than that, whispers fly between the part-time workers about how kook is a gambling addict and womanizer—even hitting up on lia at some point. you want to give the benefit of the doubt, but you remembered mr. jung’s advice to you in one of your adulting lessons that are always sticking in your mind.

“play hard to get with your trust. not everyone is as trusting and reliable as your grandma.”

a hand wraps around your shoulders as you see chaewon letting out a cheeky smile, “what took you both so long? the boys are waiting.”

you heard the chain strap from her bag clinking against her side of the body. your eyes glance between her, yours, and suhyeon’s outfit. how you’ve blended in with all of them with your own style too. the color is still your signature earthy tone, but you are confident enough to wear something a little tighter and expose more skin but with a baggy outer that they suggested to you as you all thrift shopped. the black tank top you’re wearing sticks to your torso and you felt the lightweight earthy green coat covering you from the chilly night air as you all walk out to the empty area full of dining chairs stacked on top of the table.

the boys are waiting behind the glass windows when you can catch the usual white stick already in between jaemin’s lips; clouds of smoke flowing out of him. suhyeon lets you and chaewon out as the boys turn towards you, jihoon showing an annoyed voice as he nags on why it takes so long for the three of you. your vision glance at soobin, who is in a black ensemble, sweater, jean pants, and a black beanie that accentuates his blond hair. a tight smile formed on his face as he saw you, letting you reply with your own before chaewon and suhyeon pulled you to be by their side.

your eyes still haven’t adjusted to the neon lights and signs that the city has offered to you even with the days you’ve settled here. the many heads you can’t even count by the street, especially the ones full of shops and restaurants. faces you pass by seemingly familiar in ways that you might see them or feel their presence, mindlessly live their lives that you are curious with too. the lights shining in blue, white, and pink illuminate all of your friends’ dark attires as you all approach a street that is famous for its restaurants. jaemin leading all of you into one that is full of people, the crackling sound of the grills filling your ear as you smelt the smoky aroma before seeing the rising gray cloud.

the six of you sitting face to face, three on each side with suhyeon and chaewon not wanting to let you go. jihoon orders what all of you want as jaemin and soobin talk about something you can’t understand because of how rowdy the place is. you like to make homemade food, but with your work schedule, you don’t have time for dinner, so you went out a lot and eat the cheap street food that is offered on your way back. you still like to read the recipe book you inherit from grandma and want to cook each of them up. even using the fruits and vegetables that you grew yourself like what grandma has someday in the future. but you don’t feel right to exploit your savings that way, so you try to keep it for yourself, mostly.

“how many bottles do we want?” jihoon’s voice heard.

“soju?” chaewon asked. “maybe three for now. different flavors. get the original one.”

your eyes trail to chaewon, enlarged as you lean into her ear. “i never tried alcohol before.”

“never?!” she turns as you nod your head. the three boys seem to notice chaewon’s exclaim as suhyeon leans in.

“you should remember, chae. she’s literally an independent woman who moves to the city for the first time. i don’t expect her to drink any kind of alcohol,” the long-haired girl said as you watch jihoon lean in.

“yeah. not only that, we can help guide her to her first time drinking,” he said, weirdly enthusiastically that jaemin who sits two seats away has to lean in and rebut his friend.

“wait, (y/n). do you actually plan to drink?” the four turn their heads to you as your eyes move between them before landing on soobin’s who sits across from you. something nudges your shoe-covered foot as you lean down to see soobin’s shoe on yours, smoothing it down slowly as you face all of them. grandma’s phrase rings in your mind once again.

“i’ll try. maybe just one glass. i don’t know what will happen but i’m with you all and i trust you. so, why not?” you replied as chaewon shook your body as you all waited for the food you order.

by the time the food arrived, you helped grill the barbeque as they trust you to cook it well—a perk of being placed in the kitchen most of the time. when you met the green bottles full of alcohol, you see jihoon picking up one bottle and giving them to suhyeon as each of you passes the small glass that came with it. hearing the small crack, you view suhyeon with the bottle and cap’s seal broken, waiting to be opened and drunk.

“this is the original flavor. it’s gonna taste like water but bitter and you’re gonna feel something hot after drinking it in your stomach. that’s the alcohol.” you listened. then chaewon gave you the small glass which you hold carefully as suhyeon helps pour it. raising your glass that is nearly full of liquid, you put it against the light beside the cooker hood, analyzing how clear it is. it does look like water, you thought as you see suhyeon pouring the soju into her own glass; the others holding onto their own filled glasses.

“we can’t let the meat too overcooked. let’s do a toast.” jihoon says as chaewon giggles beside you. “soob, give ‘em”

“ahh okay…” soobin said as you watch him smile, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. “i don’t know what i’m thinking about letting (y/n) be part of us, the lost children. but i’m glad to see her with us now. we listened to your stories as well as we share ours, though you heard more of the other than mine—but i listen and i care. we all are glad to be your friends, (y/n). and fuck the people back in your hometown for not seeing you that way.”

“hear, hear,” suhyeon exclaimed beside you, yet you continue to gaze at soobin as he continues.

“let’s give a toast to our new friend, (y/n), and for her new life here with us.”

“cheers!!!” the words bouncing from one person to another as you follow, clinking your glass with the others as they throw their heads back and drink the liquid in one try. your glass meets soobin’s last, pursing your lips as you stare at the object in your hand before returning to him.

“slowly, darling,” he mumbled even from across the table as soobin drinks his shot before putting the glass on the table. there’s a sound of a knock on the wooden table from his glass before he returns to the tongs he used as you both cooked with the grill.

letting the rim of the glass close to your lips, you lean the glass as you get the taste of alcohol. the liquid is so familiar yet it also isn’t as it tasted weird on your taste buds. you familiarize the bitterness that suhyeon mentioned but didn’t expect the subtle sweetness in the aftertaste—the glass was half empty. you notice all of them expecting your reaction before your mind said, screw it, and down the other half down. the soju arrived cold at the table so it refreshed your esophagus before you put the glass down on the table before you. your face grimacing from the weird taste as you look at jihoon’s concerned expression.

“it’s… okay. i’ll try the other two flavors too but only one shot,” you comment as you caught the four loudly sigh. you continue to get your own tongs and help soobin cook, who is staring at you with an unreadable expression.

for you, it was another two shots of two different flavors of soju. but for the others, they order two other bottles. even with that, you can perceive how tipsy you’ve become, almost similar to when you’re lacking sleep. but you were awake enough to see all of your friends unhinged, seeing their bodies wobbling and drunkness overcoming them. yet, when you look at soobin, he’s not like the others. sure, he drank more shots than you, but you notice that he never pours his own drinks again after a while as the others scramble around to get the green bottles until they’re empty.

after putting the food in your stomach, you feel the fullness from eating but the tipsiness from the alcohol as you let your eyes wander. glancing at soobin, you see him giggle, watching the way suhyeon and chaewon are leaning their head against your shoulders.

“we should end the night, shouldn’t we?” jaemin mumbles as jihoon picks up his belongings, not saying anything before soobin lets out a nod.

the other four leans near your body as soobin pays for the food before all of you scurry away into the streets. the walk to your apartment building comes in variations of volume—from the crowded street full of people—before it slowly fades away as you all walk towards the residential areas.

the other four are at the front of the group as you and soobin stay behind, giggling to yourself as you see them doing their usual shenanigans, but more hyper and chaotic than ever before. you knew with your mostly sober mind, you’ll probably be the one to help them if you could. but you are glad soobin is here without you, not letting you wallow in your thoughts about what is happening right this instance, what happened in the pub, and what happened between the two of you: senses are more hyperaware than ever.

you always thought that the soobin you met—a colder and intimidating guy—was really him. but at the barbeque restaurant, you now recognize that it is a mask. and it’s slipping more and more as he drinks. soobin becomes a bit more talkative with you under the influence of alcohol. usually, he only does small talk with you and it’s jarring to hear that compare to his dynamic with the rest of the group. though you both just met the day you move, you always knew that there might be something more than a cold and calculated demeanor. but why is he hiding it from you out of all people?

“it feels like we’re playing parents here and they’re our children.” soobin exclaimed as you walk behind your friends, facing your head to him.

“we cook for them. we pay for them. we take care of their drunken selves.” he continues then faces you, letting his words fade into the night.

“they’re not that childish. but when you think of it… yeah. why is it always us, though? i, i know they trust you and you seem to know how capable you are. but why me too?” you let out a small chuckle as you hear jaemin’s waves of laughter that you never caught before filling the air from suhyeon tickling him. the background slowly moves as you identify the tower that all six of you live in. the shining dots on the floor each has a tenant inside, living life the way they do.

“i mean you are the most responsible out of all of us. maybe that’s why many young adults go to college.” he trails off as he speeds forward. you turn your head to the front to see your friends already meters away as you stride as fast as you can to keep up with soobin.

“what is that supposed to mean, soobin?” his figure stops when both of you are closer to them and the tower.

“it’s…” you see him nibble his lips before continuing. “young adults attend college—which is technically a school that is not mandatory—because they want to stay young. making friends again and doing club activities. it’s what a child learns to do in school.” soobin turns to you, “they don’t want to realize they’ve grown up.”

eyebrows furrowed, you continued the step toward your other friends before looking behind you. “and how’s that relate to me being responsible?”

“you moving here on your own with no preparation other than your savings and the roof to live under. you knew you had the skill and level of responsibility to take care of yourself in a new environment if you are ready enough.” soobin’s eyes cast down, and he blinks rapidly, processing each word that he spoke to you.

“you knew you had to grow up.”

soobin pokes his tongue to his cheek as he follows you and you walk to your tower. your hands following his and put it in your coat pocket to not let the cold win.

you had no choice but to grow up when you graduate high school and especially after your grandma passed. with the limitation of your actions and wealth, grandma always helps you grow into the person you are. ready to face anything, even if it’s intimidating. she told you to be positive as people can reciprocate it back, but slowly in the city, arguments are thrown to hold it back. people are crafty in the city and lies are thrown everywhere, even near you.

yet you still seem optimistic. the story of pan and the lost boys were also the story of facing your coming-of-age and how people want to stop it. you can vividly remember the five boys in the book and the girl they brought from the real world to stay with them. yet she leaves because she realizes she has to grow up. what if she stays? what if you stay back at your town and do not move to the city?

the elevator’s ding signals the opening door as all of you step and disperse to get out. all of you move haggardly, knowing the painfulness of a tired body coming to you all and especially the ones who are very intoxicated.

“i’ll try to make a hangover soup for all of your breakfasts, okay?” you speak as they nod their heads. chaewon and her pouty face reach to you and hug you as the other follows, crushing you into a tight grip as soobin smiles until his dimples show.

“thank you so much, (y/n). you’re the best” jihoon says as he hiccups. raising your shoulders, it signals them to let you go as they say your good nights with jaemin being the last one as his unit is right near soobin and yours. as the door closes, the hallway’s silence enveloped you and soobin. your eyes moved to see him rubbing his head, pushing his beanie off before he holds it in his hand.

“you’re also gonna give me a bowl of the soup even if i’m not as drunk as them?” he asked as you let out a small smile, nodding. awkwardness flies between the two of you as you sway your body, hyping yourself to talk to him, but you don’t know what to talk with him.

“i’m sorry, by the way.” you hide your startled self as soobin pushed forward to speak, shifting to face you. “for worrying you back at the pub.”

“oh… yeah.” you lick your dried lips, nudging the fallen coat on your shoulders up. “sorry for worrying you too. from my daydreaming session precisely.”

“you had a lot of that since you arrived here. even holding onto your own head like you’re in pain. are you really okay?” soobin steps near you as you look away. it is always with soobin that it’s painful. but when it’s with your friends, you also had moments when you disassociate. seeing not your friends, but different boys wearing clothes that have tears on them. yet you recognize them too.

but it’s always with soobin that your “daydreaming session” becomes more prominent. though not as sore as the first one, you can still feel something press on your memory, telling you to process and remember something. but what?

“uh…” you shook your head, teeth biting your lower lip. “it’s like my brain is trying to tell me something, especially with you five. i have this weird memory recall suddenly where i am by a beach or in a forest whenever i’m with you five, especially with you, soobin.” you heard him inhale after you call his name.

eyes meeting his, his eyebrows creased as he steps closer, your feet almost touching his as you recognized how confidential this piece of information might be to just give away. but because he is the reason you feel this way, maybe he could have an answer.

“it’s like… i know you before, but from where exactly?” your hand animately moves as you try to express your thoughts. “i could label it as a déjà vu or maybe it is a coincidence. i, i don’t freaking know…”

“hey…” soobin reaches out and holds your shoulder. “thank you for trusting me. i don’t know how i can help you but you can definitely rely on me.” he nods with you following.

gulping down your saliva, you look towards soobin who is giving you a small side smile before you give one of your own. the light from the ceiling cast a shadow where you can only see his silhouette—like a sun does near the horizon. something pulls you in and as if soobin knows too, his head moving forward slowly towards yours. you can feel his breath meeting yours, eyes staring at his with brief glances make as you’re taken into a black hole that is him, pulling you in more and more.

“don’t you have class tomorrow morning?” you asked, finally able to pull away as you catch his mumble “fuck“ as he retreats to his front door. pushing his code in, he twists the door handle and pushes the door open with his back.

“i owe you one. good night, darling.” he nonchalantly spoke, didn’t think about anything he said, and stepped into his unit.

“good night, soobin,” you replied after the door closes as you return to your own.

the suffocation of the room is prominent as you feel every pump of your heart from what happened. you don’t care if it’s nighttime, but you need to calm down and process everything. the leaves from the plants—especially sprout with its daisy flower blooming—whirl when you arrived. you sat in your usual place against the back of the wall beside the railing: a favorite of yours where you can glance at your plants but also view the city. you curled your knees up to your chest as you peer towards the plants, seeing them reflecting your expression with their posture animately, even the nuances of the flusteredness you tried to push away. your heart beats not from fear, but because of the fluttering sense that you had.

you never asked why soobin called you darling. the first time you heard it, it overwhelmed you until it broke you down. but him calling you by your nickname even if he doesn’t know it is comforting. as even if you walk towards the future, the past is still there to remind you who you are. the little reminder of grandma and your storybooks help, but someone calling you darling is different.

one of your hands rested beside your curled-up body so you can hold it up. the tile floor is cold to your touch with a little softness coming from the plants growing in the cracks. your mind runs high on what happened. but what happens next? soobin now knows why you’re like that. but shivers still ran down your spine from his figure as if you met him before, that he is someone you cherished.

you don’t know how long time has gone but you feel something touching your hand on the floor. looking at it, you see a vine wrapped around your forefinger, not in an intimidating way but a soothing one as it caresses your skin. when your finger moves, it immediately retracts from your touch and follows your movement, left and right, and even growing and shrinking.

you’ve watched grandma do that before when she wants to decorate the house, even telling the trees that are planted in your garden to follow her guide. yet you don’t know if you also get that ability before now. your fingertips revert to your skin color from the green chlorophyll pigment, a smile form on your face as you feel grandma’s presence soothing you—even an unfamiliar yet identical one who you can only conclude is your other family member—as you pick yourself up and prepare to drift into slumber.

-

the grass gets greener beneath your touch, feel it being refreshed from the energy you gave to them. the sound of the waves crashing to the shore filled your ear as you turn towards your little cave opening where you reside. a little cave you call your home.

the boys left you alone as you wander near where you live, a dagger strapped onto your thigh for safekeeping or if you want to drink coconut water from the fallen fruits on the sand. you look down when you see the grass leaves wrap around your fingers. they do seem to love you here, the plants. it’s as if you’re the calling of mother nature visiting neverland for the first time. your ability seems to grow more as time goes on with you staying on the island, even forgetting what is going on in the faraway place you used to call home. will they remember you? will they question your existence? you don’t know unless you visit there. but the thought of leaving always leaves your mind as you are already too attached to the boys here, especially to pan.

you learned how to craft basic things through yeonjun’s lessons, finding the right herbs to eat with taehyun, hunting and fishing fish with beomgyu, and exploring the island with kai. soobin, well, he is always busy with things relating to his position as pan.

by the campfire, you heard all of their stories, excluding soobin’s who is somewhere on the island. when they came back at sunset a few hours ago, they brought a crate of things they stole from hook and his mates. all you do is talk and let each other talk as you can see the moon reaching the peak of the sky right at the open ceiling in your cave as you ate dinner from the fishing pile. you sensed beomgyu and kai leaning their heads against each of your shoulders as yeonjun and taehyun take turns drinking the rum that is inside that crate. their stories were your realization as to why they are called lost boys.

“soobin told you how all of us came from the same world as you, but we all have the same tune of problems. adolescence expectations and targets, pleasing the parents with studies and their results after it. some are more dangerous than the others but we know they ostracized us in a way.“ taehyun speaks the tell-all as yeonjun pushes his hand out with the bottle of rum that is near empty—not caring about what happened right after as you grab and drink the bottle until the last drop, licking the sweet residue off your lips before you wipe them with the back of your hand. all of them telling their stories one by one, opening up and showing you their most vulnerable side as you listen intently—understanding them more because most of the time you spend here is with soobin. all of that conversation spoken between all of you lasted until the pile left only soot and faint smoke flying up. the four boys rise up from the logs as they lay down on their respective spots with you helping to clean up the cave.

“thank you, mother.“ you heard beomgyu teasingly mumble, his voice slurs away as you let out a giggle. it is a jest for them that they see you as their mother figure—being the only female in the commune yet also helping clean and arrange things in it. but the more you think of it, you seem to like it. you’ve always cared for your younger siblings a lot back home. but the connection is a tad clearer, especially with your blooming relationship with their leader, who is a much more authoritative figure.

putting the utensils and other things in the right place, you look at the night sky illuminated by the surface of the sea. candles lit up in a few corners of the commune to help in navigating. your hand traces down your exposed skin by your neck and collarbone, pressing it down to feel the pain from where soobin marked you as his a few nights ago. both of you don’t know exactly what to do, but it felt right to explore more—and a little more explanation on the education side from what you learned at school. your legs are still sore but it’s slowly masked by how heavy your head is, both from the soft and relaxing atmosphere but also the substance flowing in your body. it tells you to rest up but you don’t want to, letting your steps take you outside the mouth of the cave.

you inhale the clear air you are now much more used to than steams coming out of the running machines outside of your previous house. the wind caressing your skin and rustles the plants. your thought returns to soobin and how mysterious he is slowly becoming. he promised to tell you everything, but he disappears into the day until the middle of the night, hasn’t returned and he didn’t tell you about it at all. you wanted to pry the boys, but your guilt showed up first before you take action.

sitting down on the sands near where the water crawls, you let your eyes droop. you couldn’t lie—you wanted to—but you seemed lonely. isolated. yes, you live with five other people, but when words have different meanings depending on the layer of connections you get yourself into, you are slowly getting ostracized in a group full of ostracized people. you’ve contemplated speaking about it to soobin but your guts tell you to not do that as he then went away more and more because of his pan duties. he told you what does his nickname come from as you both lay beside each other nights ago.

“pan is a title that this island’s deity gives me and makes me responsible to protect neverland, the species who live here, and the island’s nature from evil or any other dangerous parties. but i gave it another reason to help children from back in our old world to face their fears even for just one night, as an imaginary friend that brought them to neverland. there will be mythos written about me and my actions, which i don’t mind.” soobin rustles beside you as you felt his knuckles caressing your cheek, “you’re the first adolescent i had to help. the boys and i are stuck in this age as we grow up slowly, sneaking to see people our age outside the island knowing what to do with their lives. all but you.”

sure, he promised you adventures—which you had. but he never seems to bring you to his adventures. the other species on the island like fairies and sirens were told by soobin to respect you. but when you wanted to get closer, they back up and left you behind as the vines crawl to comfort you without you telling them to do so. yet, you don’t understand why they should fear you that much. you are the same as the humans here, including the pirates.

that’s when an epiphany struck you. a bolt of lightning in the bottle.

you remembered how soobin promised to bring you back to your family once in a while. but you never did—even with him flying away there for hours, gone until he came back.

you also realized that he never brought people to neverland again after you though he tells you it is one of his “jobs”. as if even with how young they are if they come here, they could recognize you from their world. it is as if he is done with his pan tasks outside of neverland, like he is satisfied to take care of other things. all after, you stayed. but he still went to your old world, doing whatever tasks he does without even considering your ultimate wish to visit your family.

hooded eyes are covering your vision when you tried to stand up by yourself. your balance is off in a way that you misplace your legs when you walk. but you can feel the underwhelming rage growing inside you as it slowly sheds away with every heavy step you took from the wet sand that sucks you down.

you needed to go home to your family, no matter what it takes. you don’t know what is beyond the horizon from the island but with a ship or boat, you could try. every step you take—no matter how sporadic—is heavy but agile with the growing fury that is flowing through your veins.

you could see the opening of the cave, planning to cut the rope and steal the boat that the boys have by the little sheltered cove you called home. but your body is pulled backwards, and something heavy covers your mouth and nose. with your intoxicated body, you were too late to get the dagger as darkness enveloped your vision.

-

“what do you mean you know nothing about her whereabouts?“

the boys cowered as they stare at their leader with a look so unnatural than his usual. his clothes were cleaner and tidier than his usual tattered ones as he left to visit the town where you used to live. papers were scattered beside his feet as the boys stare at him.

“we don’t know, soobin. we swear,“ kai mumbles as soobin strides towards him before lifting him by his collar. his teeth grinding against each other as he lifts himself off the ground with his power, dragging the other boy.

“when is the last time you see (y/n)?” kai struggles to swallow his saliva and answered as soobin’s grip rested near his throat, struggling more to breathe as soobin caught the sound of the boy’s clothes tearing little by little.

“when did you last see her?!“

“l- last night,” kai mumbles as soobin float closer, sniffing something weird on his friend before he realizes, dropping him onto the sand where taehyun is waiting to pull him up to his feet.

soobin scans the commune to find anything out of place, observing each and every part of the commune when he sees an unfamiliar wooden crate near the ones he knows. he drops to the sand before striding towards the crate and opening it to find a few empty bottles of rum.

“did all of you drink last night?“

“yes.“ yeonjun doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“did she drink any last night?“ soobin sends a follow-up answer, hoping they say “no” before turning to them and they meet him with silence. returning his gaze, he sees how emotionally down they are as they haven’t recovered from the substance, but it is much worse when you’re in recovery from how drunk you are especially when you’re not used to it. he caresses the wooden surface for any clue where they got the bottles of alcohol. that is when he felt a small indent near the bottom of the crate, which he recognizes in his waking mind. soobin shook his head in disbelief before bracing himself.

“hook. she’s with hook.“ he turns around and strides to shake his friends.

“this is all your fault. if you let my love get away like this, i-.” soobin didn’t finish as he shake his head in disbelief. he returns to his pile of loot, picks up a machete he hasn’t used in a while, and straps a sheath behind him to put it in. the other boys stare at their leader in various states of mind: guilt, tiredness, fear, and nauseous. soobin heard the rustle coming from the side, peeking to find taehyun taking a glimpse of the papers before the tall boy got up and returned to the others’ presence.

“prepare yourselves. we’re going to raid their ship,“ soobin said as he lets his pouch full of magic dust strap on his belt as the others scurried away to pack up what they need. you could’ve escaped with the dagger he gave you, but with your drunken state that he guess you had, the likely chance for you to escape is abysmal. his hands clench and unclench from the overwhelming emotions he is having, pouring out of the vase that is his mind. he has to punish the boys somehow. he will do that after he gets you back from those nasty hands of the pirates.

the boys stuck to his behind as they traverse through the forest instead of following the coastline—a much faster way to reach you. but even with the path cutting their time, the jungle’s topography is dangerous and unexpected. the usual clear path that he and the boys took now blends in with the rest of the forest grounds, obscuring his way. pulling out his machete from behind his back, he cuts the thick vines as best as he can. no spoken word is needed. his focus is only on getting you back in his arms.

but the jungle seems to fight back as he can only see the small glimmer of the light outside. with every hack of the machete, he sees the butterflies and moths going out of his way—a few fallen from not being fast enough. not minding the other four, he lets the machete whack the last few vines before meeting the beach where the pirate ship docks. the masks of the chirping birds cover the boys’ whisper as they trail the sand to the behemoth of the ship where you are. not wanting to wait anymore, he flies to the bow of the ship.

soobin’s eyes landed on your figure that is being tied at the bottom of the mast. your dress sticks to your skin, the ends of it flowing with the ocean’s wind even with your hand tied behind your back. head lulling down as you tried to rest, seemingly too tired to fight any longer. that’s when he sees the pirate captain, hair long until his nape, piercings adorning his face, tattoos littering his hand, and knuckles, with a hook on the other wrist.

“captain hook!“ soobin drops on the bow as hook turns his head towards his voice with you raising your head. the frown on the man getting deeper, pulling out his sword from his side.

“seize pan!“

the crewmates climb and crawl to the boy’s figure. all holding melee weapons of various shapes and sizes that it became too hectic for him. but using his machete, he blocks the incoming metal as the clanks touch every part of it. every lesson he learned with his friends on sword-fighting lies on this. the remnants of cuts from the training are a reminder of his loss. but he held on and continue to train until he can fight with it. but even with his magic as part of his arsenal, his skill plummets from the overwhelming amount of crewmates trying to stop him.

soobin clench his fists so tight that veins show up near the surface of his skin, sensing his power succumbing and creating a chamber inside him where it collects. he hasn’t seen the backup of his boys, adding it to the wrath that is filling him up. soobin fights and deflects as hard as he can until his magic is too hard to handle. the dust he held in his pouch falling out to his skin as they fuel his anger.

“AGHH!” soobin shouts, exploding the outrage as all things near him are pushed away and landing on places on the ships. blood splatters onto the wood and his tidy clothes as his body holds on, his nerves reacting to a sting with a liquid form a little running stream on his cheek. brushing it with his thumb, he finds the crimson liquid that is from his cut vessel.

bodies fall limp as they ran out of blood. the mast and other shrapnel of woods stick out of their fleshes as the blood pools the path between him and you. yet, pan smiled. he smiles as he steps towards your shaking body. you’ve probably never seen this much blood and all he wants is to come and comfort you from it. his footsteps covered in blood as the living crewmates cower from his moving body. you spoke nothing as the emotions overwhelmed you, eyes glistening from the tears threatening to fall. hook disappears with no trace, blown out by his magic burst.

his hands hasten to cut the rope that binds you in one slice. dropping his machete down as he holds you tight, staining your white dress with the blood on his hands—hugging you and resting his hands around your upper back. he felt you crumble under his arms as he closes his eyes, hearing your gasps before letting loose a small whine from the overwhelming emotions. your hands grasping his body in a tight squeeze.

“it’s me…“ he spoke lowly into your ears, letting the creaks of the moving wood on the ocean waves fill the space. pulling away to open his eyes, he sees your wide eye face and furrowed eyebrows as he smoothes down his thumb across your cheekbone, blood smearing on your face.

soobin’s body is pulled back when he felt a hook under his jaw and something sharp pierce the outer texture of his forearm. he heard the haggish breath of the captain hook in his ears, even felt the cold metal from his piercings touching the boy’s earlobe. yet, you didn’t seem to hurry and stop the pirate, standing there as your body is quivering.

“sweet dreams, pan,“ the pirate whispered as soobin’s eyes trail down your white dress and the blood stains he gave you before going down to your legs. that where he sees it: drops of blood landing in a small pool beside your right heel.

your body slumps down as your skin is losing its colors fast. soobin’s body thrashes against hook before he punches the pirate’s gut with his elbow, letting him go as he rushes to grab you as you fall. your mouth lets out whimpers as soobin sees behind you, seeing your dagger pierced into the lower black with blooming red on the white fabric.

“no… NO!“ soobin shouted as he turns to hook who don’t have any remorse to help you up, an unintelligible look on his face. holding your body as best as he can, your whimpers haunt him as he listens to footsteps finally arriving at the ship. turning to see the boys walking towards your laid body on soobin’s arms, pulled by gravity as your head hangs down. not strong enough to lift it yourself.

“why aren’t you doing anything?!“ the boy continued to scream. he tried to stop the bleeding, covering near the cut as best as he can, and not pulling the dagger out; knowing that more blood will flow out. but he felt a cold touch on his warm hands.

“i…“ your voice is so little only he could pick up. soobin’s tears fall on his cheek as your life fades away.

“don’t leave me.“ soobin cries, your body already limp as you don’t have control of your own agency anymore. his hands push your body up as he hugs your fading warmth. the last time he cried this hard was a long time, something he never wanted to talk about with anyone but allowing you to hear it. you were the only person he trust. you’re his world and here you are, being ripped away from it by the dagger he gave to you.

“you believe in another chance at life?” he remembers you asking, seeing the sunrise on the beach after he came back home from returning a child back to their home. “well, i do. i hope i get a chance,” you answered, drawing in the sand between where you both sit. small circles that are similar to the foams coming from the waves.

“i will like it and even with another chance at life, i want it to be with you.” soobin spokes as you stop drawing and let hold on to your hand with his.

“i promise. i’ll find you.“ he whispers into your ear when he sees your face empty of life. his jaw is locked tight as something dangerous is filling up inside him. everyone was stunned yet none was helping you as he lets himself let go.

the last thing he sees was red as he opens his eyes.

soobin’s body folds up on his bed, sweat forming on his face and his bare torso as he stares at the morning light filling up his bedroom. the digital clock on his bedside table showing the hour with its red lights. he rubs the creases form on his face, even the tears that have fallen from the corner of his eyes.

the past few nights were full of this specific dream he had over and over again, as if he is there in purgatory. yet, when he met the refreshing outside morning air on his way to his college class, his step springs into motion as if nothing happened—pushing it back with his usual memories. well, that and all the sacrifices he made to be here. the gallons of blood he had to step into at that ship deck doesn’t scare him, but he embraces it instead. getting to know each motive and detail that make him feel that enraged that day.

his open laptop obscures the way his hands move on his notebook. the flowing ink draws on the lined papers with the mention of words he heard in the dream and more he recognizes. but two are the most prominent: pan and darling with the lines between each other. the writing is unintelligible for others but him. and there is also a certain word that is flooding onto the sheet of paper, creating a reminder to not let him forget why he is here now.

(y/n).

(y/n).

my darling, (y/n).

when he found out another tenant move in into the apartment next to his, he didn’t expect to see his long-lost lover’s face; though different because your more timid side is shown. soobin had prepared for the day when he agreed to do it—to tell you who he is, who his friends are, and more—but he always thought he had to shield himself from you. he doesn’t know if the (y/n) he recognized is his love, the (y/n) that left him amid a maroon-colored deck all alone, bodies were thrown everywhere even with his lost boys and the captain not surviving. blood dripping down the side of the ship and drops into the salt-filled waters.

he realized the moment that he, jihoon, suhyeon, chaewon, and jaemin met, they are this life’s version of his boys—jihoon and his handiness skill like what yeonjun had; jaemin and his vast knowledge like taehyun’s; suhyeon’s friendliness like kai; and chaewon’s aloofness like what beomgyu has. all of them need a friend who can guide them and take care of them. they don’t hesitate to nominate him even with his humble excuses.

soobin also didn’t expect to be born in the same situation he had back in his earlier life. ignorant father and abusive mother that he had to cope with every time he can. he didn’t have a youthful life like what his neighbors have and that increases his childishness, which he learns to masquerade under his mother’s tantrums. the rum he used to steal from the pirates is being replaced with cigarettes and occasional recreational drugs that he doesn’t hesitate to do even in his teenage years—no one cared for him as a person anyway back before he met the lost children.

after reading a book about pan and the lost boys in a library back when he entered his pre-teen years, all the memories locked inside him are out of the boundaries and flood his memory. how at the mention of a dangerous siren, he remembered saving you from it. how pan first met darling is a more simple explanation when he met his darling and take her away to his home: neverland.

but when he read the ending, he had to pause as he read to find the decision of her leaving neverland and growing up to finally let pan see her as an older woman—a mother to her children—which he can’t bear to read more because it remembers it to his own mother. his darling wouldn’t leave him that way, right?

when soobin needed to get more money, he never expected to stand outside a pub called neverland near his campus. he braves himself and does observations when he met face to face with jungkook—remembering that the hook he fought was named captain jeon like the last name of his boss that conducts his interview with and make him rely on him for his income. everything was set in place—a group of friends, an abode, a neverland. all he could do is wait until the day he found darling, or when darling moved to find him and his friends.

you seem to still have your affinity to plants and he observed how plants follow your guidance with just a flick of your finger. it is something he admired you for, especially when you told him you had that gift before and it became stronger in neverland. he remembers seeing how the tips of your fingers turn green every time you influence the floras. he remembered you calling the group to help you move the pots of plants you bought for your balcony garden; just like how you teach the boys how to garden back on the island. but he can’t lie. he felt intimidated by them and how they can care for you where he can’t. how your attention stays on them but not to him.

he used to experience the same headache, but because of his resilient soul from all the pain he bears, he lets it embrace him. the length of it becomes so short that it is now so swift and disperses instantly as his old life’s memories come back again. and with the small reminder of your life with him back on that island, he notices the head-crushing headache you’ve experienced. but by the way you cower. it’s much more painful than what he experienced—just like what he was told. he wanted to pull that pain away from you because you’ve had too much, letting him feel it instead. after all, he is already numb to it. but when you start to only get a few swaying heads instead of the difficult headaches you’ve gotten days before, he can’t help but to smile to himself—and how happy he is you’re embracing your memories back.

it will not be long until you remember him again.

when you arrived here, he played a more passive part to integrate you into the lost children. even protecting you at a point because you might not be his love that he recognizes. but when the headaches arrived, he lets you in into their culture, ways, and style—how he remembered you embrace the lost boys’ way so fast back in neverland. your own clothes blending in with their new street style, like your white dress combined with a leather corset that he stole from the pirates. he stands back and gazes at how your behavior joins in with the rest of his friends, shopping sprees in thrift shops, walking in the night with them, and now, alcohol is your recent interest. he lets out a small smile when your caring side shows up and takes care of the rest of the friend groups, giving your homemade recipe to try, helping in discussing the homework he and his friends have with your knowledge, and taking care of them when they’re sick.

just like how a grown-up is.

as he heard your story on why you have to grow up fast, he is furious. when you said you had no choice but to be like that, letting your adolescence envelop you, he wished he could have his magic back and pray to the altar before the deity that gave him the second chance to also wished for you to have a regular childhood where you can let your childishness stick within you.

he remembered the phrase “the great pan is dead“ chanted by the beings he met on the island as they see him sacrifice himself to rest, letting him succumb to his wish to be returned to you whenever it could be. he will wait an eternity just to be with you again, and that time has come.

soobin stayed at the sidelines as one of the servers, looking at the large crowd full of familiar faces dining and enjoying his campus’ victory in today’s match—a step closer to the semi and final matches. the part-timers who work here are all being brought because of the many patrons that have come, letting him finally meet the few workers you had worked with. he listened to jihoon's grunt as he returns from his run around, giving the boy a small smile as soobin gave him pats on his back right after. the music playing from the speakers is loud and booming, rattling the whole bar area where the girls are serving, including you. he grimaced when sees your tank crop top as you served college guys drink, seeing their lusty eyes on you as kook told you to have fun.

his eyes stayed on you who is having a great time, even having your own gin and tonic at the side to drink. kook wanted to let the “big guns” out for tonight that he predicted, letting the boys and girls wearing similar revealing shoes and having the island and forest vibe from the main interior thematic to stand out more—castaways having fun eating, conversing, and dancing the night away; just like he and his mates did back in his neverland. that’s when he sees more people crowding the bar area. soobin walks towards it after taking care of a few orders to see the crowded front of the bar with chaewon dancing on the bar top. she pulls suhyeon up as they walk around the bar top, seeing your wide smile from the ground before they pull you up.

he walks closer to the counter between the kitchen and the front as his eyes can’t look away from you who is dancing on the bar top, letting the alcohol break your restraints just for the night as more of the bartenders are getting busy with the many orders. you sway and dance with the music as best as you could, the yellow lights illuminate the bar reminding him of how you and the boys dance the night away back on the shore of neverland—the campfire create a perfect lighting as you and the boys dance around it.

the night went crazier. even he was brought into the craziness when he step behind the bar to see if another order is done, seeing you turn around and face him at the area as you dropped and walks towards him, speaking no words when you get him into your embrace and dance around following the music blaring from the speakers.

the crowd fades out like the sound of the waves he used to hear, his hands embracing your waist like he used to remember. the lights creating stars in your eyes like the one he remembers seeing. your hands wrapped behind his nape, bringing him closer to you. he wishes he could save this moment even under his hesitation and your forwardness because of the alcohol. he lets you go as you have to continue your work and he does too until late in the night of today and early time of tomorrow.

his back hurts from cleaning the place up, swiping the trash away with his broom as he can see all the workers lookingmessy all around, yet he couldn’t find you. soobin turns his figure towards suhyeon at the bar, cleaning up the spilt-over drinks on the wooden top, eyes blank as the alcohol effect fades out.

“suhyeon…” her eyes glance at the tall boy as she lets out a sheepish smile. “you’ve seen (y/n)?”

“uh… yeah…” she slurs. “i think she is in the restroom. she mentioned that her stomach’s hurting. probably puking from drinking too much.”

“okay. thanks…” soobin answered, hearing her teasing “for sure, papa.” before he went away.

he remembered how his friends have called him “dad” while also calling (y/n) “mom”. something he remembered the boys also called you and he in your previous life.

stepping inside the kitchen for the first time in hours, he saw felix and lia focusing on cleaning the plates first as he found the room to be much cleaner than what he expected. the door to the employee lockers—where the restroom is also located—is ajar as he steps closer, hearing his footsteps clearer before he heard a thud on a metal.

“move back, please…” soobin caught a small familiar whimper. peeking through the door, he finds someone being covered by a large man with tattoos. seeing the man move, he finally sees the person he was searching for. you.

“kook!” soobin calls as kook turns his head towards his voice with you raising your head. the frown on the man getting deeper.

“let her go.” he steps closer. your eyes widen, seeing the boy’s disorganized hair and clothes with a frown on his face. even with nearing a meter in front of him, soobin can smell the stench of alcohol on his manager much stronger than on yours.

the man lets out a wicked smile where his facial piercings make him more menacing than ever; so similar to the captain he fought against. your body is cowering more than ever before he heard you grimace. he sees your eyes wandering between the two males as soobin steps forward more and more.

“not again. i won’t let you get away with this.” soobin picked up the murmurs of kook harassing his female employees once in a while. it is only suspected that the girls in his group might be his next victim. he didn’t think it could be you. the regrets he built for letting you in with his and his friend’s way are showing again. but he won’t let the man win twice.

the drunken kook slides forward, fist high up, and soobin shielded with his forearm. punches were thrown as soobin tried to defend himself from him, getting a few cuts from the rings on his hands. the boy’s eyes drift to the papers flying as kook is thrown near it, writings on the paper, and a table full of numbers and a few lines of ink on it as soobin continue to fight against your assaulter. the man’s fist hit soobin’s nose and his head is thrown back with his body stumbling. he could feel the blood coming out of his nose as the memories of combat he learned back in his previous life come back. that’s when he picked up your whimpers as you covered your head, getting heavier and heavier.

soobin tried to reach for you as kook grabs him from behind, letting him see you scream in excruciating pain as you drop to your knees. the image of you kneeling and falling on the ship’s deck flickering in his eyes as he punches the man’s gut with his elbow before giving one last punch to his face, knocking him down onto the empty cardboard boxes that their ingredients came from.

he rushes to hold your body as your body becomes limp and your breathing shortens. the tears falling from soobin’s eyes as he sees you becoming unconscious in your white tank top work outfit. the blood running on his face drops to stain the white as he brought you up, letting your head in the crook of his neck as he sobs.

“no…” soobin begs.

“not again please, darling.” he soothes your back as he recalls what the deity said upon his wishes.

“the memories she will get of you will be accompanied by the sense of stabs being pierced into her body. she will become strong enough, but don’t bombard her with too many things as she might die from too much pain.“

“(y/n) please.” soobin sobs, resting his face on the crook of your neck. your skin is cold against his warm touch.

that’s when he sensed something caressing the side of his body, rubbing the side of his abdomen before he leans away. your hand smoothes down on his red-splatted white tank as he brought his eyes to yours, hearing you mumble unintelligible words when you open your eyes, seeing the tears flowing down the corner of your eyes when he sees your eyes enlarged.

“it’s you,” he heard you mumble, raising the hand that startled him to his face, letting it caress his wounded cheekbone as you can’t close your mouth tight. your body shook as you mumbled.

“it’s you, pan.”

“you remember me? do you remember us, darling?” soobin whispered as he sees you nod.

-

it’s weird to learn again about someone you used to love, especially with your fragmented mind now being whole with the epiphany that you’ve experienced in soobin’s arms. in pan‘s arms. as you remembered everything, even with your current situation close to his warm figure, your knowledge of the world transforms from within you. you couldn’t rebut anything as the doors of your memories are unlocked one by one.

but you can’t bear to let it out to the boy holding you. could you trust him? is he the boy that you knew? the boy that brought you to the island? the boy who held you in his arms as your light dims along with your fading life?

your trembling body sat up against soobin’s thighs. you try your best to wipe the blood off his face before he hugs you so tight, it took your breath away. in the circumstances that you live in, memories of your moments with him show up more and more when you let soobin hold your face in both of his palms. you now recognized why you’ve felt a certain way with the forest in your grandma’s back garden, the boys you adore in your fairytale book. it’s because of him. it’s because of him and the boys you lived with on the island that your grandma read and you imagined in your mind.

his eyes glisten with tears as he leans in and give you a peck on your cheek. yet you don’t know how to react. should you wrap your arms around him? should you pepper his face with kisses? should you grimace away as you try to collect yourself, hurting him instead?

soobin leans back as you stare into his eyes before letting them fall away, turning to see kook’s body laying on the floor. he follows you, hands unclench from your body as he relieves you.

“did kook touch you? i swear if he did then-“

“he...” licking your lips, you compose yourself. pushing your thoughts to the ones created before memories of him come back. “he is drunk, soobin. it’s- he is trying to tell me something but in a jumbled way. then my head hurts once again. i tried to tell him to give me space. he then pressed forward yet he couldn’t articulate his words to me. that’s when you came.” you look towards soobin before back at your boss.

soobin lets out a sigh as he helps you stand up and lean against the surface. he goes to his locker to take out his phone and call someone as you stare at the scattered paper on the floor that is supposed to be your job to analyze—papers that kook pushes for you to hold. you see something in his eyes grow like a person just realizing something out of horror. it's as if he was forcing you to pick it up with his unintelligible voice. or that he could be in danger. with your weak body but subsiding pain, you scoot down and gathered the messy papers in your hands so that you could put them in your bag and analyze them back home.

footsteps are heard on the floor above you, approaching the stairs. mingyu steps down from his office area, seeing his friend hammered on the floor before gazing at soobin’s battered face and you behind your locker door. your boss shakes his head as he helped pick his friend up from the ground. soobin approaches to help as you look at kook’s hair covering his face, the rings that decorate his hand covered with a tiny bit of crimson coming from being in contact with the younger boy’s face.

“he will forget this the next day.” mingyu juts his chin to his friend. “close the pub for me tonight, okay?”

you and soobin nodded as mingyu lets his friend be held upright by the boy before going up the floor and packing their stuff. the room is too quiet that you can even hear your breathing, even kook’s who you know is alive but unconscious.

the rest of the workers stare as they watch both of the bosses walking out with soobin helping kook into a cab before it goes into the dead of the night. a few of them give a glance at you and how you also have blood on your white top as chaewon approaches you, not as sober as you are now who has conflicted thoughts.

“did- did he touch you in a way? cause if he did, i’ll punch him in the nuts for y-“

“he didn’t.” you’re piecing the long story into a short one to tell her in that short moment. “he’s drunk and soobin stopped him before he did anything that threatens me,” you replied, feeling another hand wrap around to find jaemin trying to hold you up as soobin returns inside, telling the others to continue cleaning up. you just want to think about anything else other than your newly discovered memory of your fairytale-like life.

when all six of you went home, soobin stayed beside you at all times as your brain sobered up, you see jihoon and jaemin helping chaewon and suhyeon each. your heart beats inside you as you don’t know what to say to the boy that “save” you late in the night—you’re not going to be surprised if dawn is approaching minutes away.

staying back from the crowd, you perceived soobin’s hand wrap around your shoulders, his defined muscles resting on them as he guide you home while the others stayed at the front.

you and the rest of the girls giggles as you stood in the moving elevator with the rest of the boys just letting out a small smile between the reflective interior of the walls. all of you helped each other settle one by one as you visit their apartments, you’ve visited chaewon and suhyeon’s before—when all of you tried the clothes you’ve bought—but you’ve also now seen the living areas of jihoon and jaemin for the first time. each of them having a distinct style that is so “them” respectively before you said goodbye and return to the hallway of your apartment along with your next-door neighbor.

when you see pan after a long while with your rowdy friends, you can’t help to feel a tug in your heart as soobin’s shoulders sag when he faces you. you stood in the middle of the hallway when you step towards your door.

your thoughts wrapped around each other. but you want to straighten up one by one and make your faint pain stop. and you knew who can.

“can i stay with you? today has been overwhelming and i just realized who you are and such. it’s…” your voice trails out as soobin steps and wraps your wrist with his hand.

“of course, you can.”

“okay,” you replied with a faint voice.

“i think you should put your stuff back at your place before you stay at mine,” he spoke out.

you look between him and your door as you nod and step away from him to go to your home. putting your shoes on the rack, you immediately go take a shower and scrub away the blood stain seeping into your top as best as you could. staring at yourself in the mirror, you wear a loose oversized t-shirt and pyjama pants that you always wear for the night. your footsteps take you towards your front door before you heard a rustling behind you. turning around, you find the plants’ leaves hitting the glass barrier of the inside and the balcony.

almost forgot. you said to yourself as you approached your watering can and poured water in it before you walked to your balcony. letting the water hydrate them, you let out a hum that grandma usually sings to make them happier and more energized. you recognize sprout’s moves as it takes the lead to dance like how you see grandma’s plants also do, making you giggle as the other plants try to follow it. not recognizing the notion, but at least attempting to.

“grow well for me, okay?” you mumble to them as you spot a moth landing on top of one plant, seeing its beautiful yet aggressive-looking patterned wings fluttering before resting on the leaf under the moonlight. looking as familiar as ever that you’re going to pin it to your mind to take a picture of it so you could identify its species. as you silently greet it, you then step inside and turn your lights off to let the moon shines inside and return to soobin’s front door. it is always a thing that grandma also teaches you as a moth travels with the moon lighting the night sky as its point of navigation. with all the unnecessary lights off at your grandma’s home, it won’t let the moths be attracted to other light sources—their biggest killer.

hearing the muffled ring from behind the door, your eyes switch between starting at the camera lens on the door and the wooden material of the door before you heard the familiar yet faint sound of the beep. the door opens into the small silver of a dark hallway.

“darling.” you heard the recognizable voice calling you as you could see soobin emerging from the darkness in a more loose white t-shirt and sweatpants. the short sleeves covered his shoulder, unlike the sleeveless tank he wore back at the pub. your eyes wander before staring at the wounds on his face which looks untreated and a dark-purplish area around his nose

“can i patch you up?” you murmured. it has always been second nature to you to heal something like healing plants from their sickness with the knowledge grandma taught you. yet, a certain push comes as your vision is cut off by a memory of you patching him and the lost boys up—pushing you to ask.

“yeah, you can.” he then pushes his hand forward for you to hold, which you put yours in carefully before he pulls you into the darkness.

when you enter, only small patches of light cover the living room, resembling fireflies you’ve regularly watched in your backyard garden since you were a child. and the fireflies you encounter back with pan as you both travel the forest under the raven sky. but it’s lit enough for you to see the sheer size of the main area. his apartment is bigger than yours as you scan the room filled with his paraphernalia that makes it pretty homey but youthful as well. your head turns towards him as he stayed quiet, letting you take a few minutes following empty walls to find the kitchen and a small dining table that is also larger in space than yours.

you knew about his childhood back in your “previous life”; the painful story that came to mind with a sense of concern. but you don’t know if he lives the same one in this life as well. if so, how did he get the money to buy all this stuff here?

footsteps follow him as he opens a door to his bedroom—all the units here only have one bedroom each—as you can find it is decorated in a more natural-looking style. a slab of wood sticks onto his wall, combining it with a few posters of musicians you recognized. his room looks a like a forest with the dark green accent wall behind his bed. the swirls of darker green created a shadow that looks like trees are planted and standing tall in his room. you view soobin, who is walking to his bathroom and opening its door.

“wait for me. i’ll search for the first aid kit.”

“i will,” you said back as you see the stream of light coming out of the bathroom.

your eyes travel onto the decorations littering his room. the way you recognized a few of the neverland-themed items is amazing: conch shells, glass bottles filled with colored sand, and a framed map of “neverland” like the one he had before with him, even to the way the map pictured the geography. you notice a pretty large piece made of glass shaped like a vase near the window of his room, hoses connecting to as it lets more than one people can use them in a single try. they continue to wander to his wardrobe and tables, clothes thrown on the floor but collected in a pile—reminding you of his pile back in the cave you called home.

you glimpse at his upright laptop of his on the desk with a notebook and an open book he marked on. stepping to approach it, you stepped onto something small as you look down at the night-lighted room to see something red. picking it up, you recognize it immediately. a swiss army pocket knife just like what you have; or what you had because you haven’t found yours in a while now.

as you placed the pocket knife on the desk, you heard the bed creaking, making you turn around to gaze at soobin sitting at the edge. his eyes go to you as he lets out a wide smile, the cuts and bruises on his face obscured by the small light source by his bedside table. your footsteps gliding you in front of the boy as you looked at the first aid kit beside him on the mattress.

“you didn’t patch it up on purpose, did you?” his eyebrows raised hearing your words, and his smile widen before he lets out a nod, earning a giggle from you: grinning like a child would when they’re caught doing something. you lean in to get the first aid kit and open it to pinpoint the basic medicines to help remedy his cuts. his bruise might need to be compressed with ice to let it heal later.

grabbing the antiseptic, you squeeze it out onto his cuts in tiny bits. his teeth gritting and breath hitches as you brush the medicine around with your fingers and let it spread to cover the wounds. you found three cuts on his face, one on his left cheek, one on his right jaw, and one on the bridge of his nose as you patch them up one by one. your heart palpitates inside of you when you caught soobin’s eyes staying on your moving ones—letting you catch him multiple times and he catches yours if you’re curious enough. soobin let his legs open to make it easier for you to stand closer to patch him up, his hands hanging near your waist.

“you know.” your eyes landed on his. “this reminds me of when you put those leaves on me to help with the sunburn on my face.” soobin spoke as you paused your action of smoothing down the strip on his nose. remembering clearly the moment he mentioned.

you were sitting underneath the coconut tree when you watch him and the boys playing kick the empty coconut. the sun was so bright that day, unnaturally bright as sweat even shows on your skin. yet, they played with no complaints. but when the boys return to the cave, you went to check on soobin to see him frowning. his cheeks have darkened a few shades.

“it’s stinging me,” you remembered his comment as you realized the sun had burnt him. your mind instantly thinks of one plant you remember that has a soothing component in its moisture that could help him.

soobin follows you as he puts on his signature white outer garment into the nearby edge of the forest you and taehyun forage in. the plants greet you as you asked them the specific plant you’re searching for, pointing the way to the specific plant you need as you stood in front of it. asking it permission, it lets go of two of its leaves as you help it grow back the leaves with your green fingertips.

pan was sitting on the small boulder as he stares at you doing your own thing before you step between his legs, letting his hand hold you by your lower waist. so intimate, you thought. you remembered as you can hear his sighs from the cooling sensation meeting his burning skin, letting both of your thumbs caress the leaves down on his cheekbones as he looks at you with love in his eyes.

just like what he is showing to you now.

you smooth the strip to let it stick before tilting back to see his face clearly. his eyes still hold that familiar loving gaze at you that is giving you a shiver, but you don’t know how you can reciprocate it with everything that is crossing your mind now.

nibbling your bottom lip, you move to sit beside soobin as you help pack the first aid kit back before putting it on your lap. a long sigh comes from you as something grasps onto your hand, looking down to see his on yours. with the way he touches and soothes you, you want to reciprocate so badly. but the doubt comes in once again as your mind is still in a mess from tonight’s incident and your unanswered questions are answered all at the same time, at the same moment.

“i…” you sucked your breath before turning your head towards the blond boy. “i miss you so much.” his fingers tangling with yours.

“i miss you too,” he replied before you shift your head towards him. the emotions you’re experiencing are overwhelming. the way each memory now comes to you is not with pain but with ease is perplexing when you now remember who he is.

“i should’ve remembered you when i heard the name soobin and your blond hair, realizing it was the same blond hair being represented in a book with the title pan,“ you whispered, letting giggles out from him. the sky is dark outside but it calms you both down when a yawn emerges from you. turning around, you listen to his chuckle as you let him pull you.

soobin opens his duvet to let you in as you lay down on his bed, which is bigger than yours. your body was stiff as you stare at the dim and now dark ceiling as soobin turns the lamp off. your eyes adjusted to the room as the light from outside the window helps you to see. movements on the bed making you more alert as you can feel your heart wanting to jump out of your chest. your hands are tugged above the duvet when you perceive his now familiar touch grasping yours once again, making you turn your head towards the boy who has his body turned sideways towards where you sleep.

following him, you let the light from the outside caress the side of his body. his face relaxes as you lean in closer towards him, letting your free hand reaches to him and caress his face—the different texture of his soft skin to the strip that covers his wound.

“you must be waiting so long for me to remember if you knew about us,” you speak your thoughts as he replied with a hum.

“i was. but it was worth it. i want to have you back in my arms again when i finally knew who moved next door. but when you don’t react the same, i knew i should take a long route.” soobin replied, leaning his cheek into your palm.

“i feared that you won’t remember me.” he lets out a sentiment before he lets go of your hand and let it trail up to place underneath your jaw, letting him caress your neck as he can feel how your pulse is so quick because of him.

“is it only us who knows this? i’ve been putting a peg on the lost children and how similar they are to the lost boys. even kook and mingyu too with hook and his first mate.” you questioned. soobin’s eyes cast downwards as you waited.

“only we know. their aura and demeanor resemble them, but i don’t think they remember anything. maybe it’s because their look is not the same as us who are, piece by piece, the same person,” he answered, hearing the rustling on his bed as you scoot closer. wanting no one to hear about this, as it is only both of you who know this deep secret in your life.

every memory of him comes back right this instance and how you spend many nights like this. talking instead of sleeping as your curious mind melts in with his curious mind; child-like curiosity that lets you figure out the world with open eyes.

“how do you know this could happen?” you let out a question you were dreading. with all the things you have faced in your life, you didn’t know you also have one before it. that’s why you’re so attracted to pan and the boys, because they are your friends. after all, they are your family, and because pan is yours to call.

“do you remember how you believe in another chance in life?”

your breath hitches and your eyes widen as you stare at soobin.

“this is it. isn’t it?” you mumbled as soobin lets out his signature dimpled smile.

“and i knew that i’ll find you again, right?” soobin replied as you nod, letting him move you closer as you rest your forehead against him. letting his warmth combine with yours and envelop both of you as your tired body can finally rest.

“how do i know i should trust you?” you mumbled as you felt soobin’s breath combining with yours. finger trace your jaw before cupping your cheek.

“may i kiss you?” he asked gently before you let out a small nod, letting your nose tip touch his before he tilts and slot his lips into yours.

the kiss was gentle, yet familiar. the memory of your first kiss in the middle of the forest comes back as he asked you to stay. the memories of neverland from the joy to the sorrow coming back, as it finally landed on the time you die in his arms. recognizing the distinct warmth that is his once again.

you close your eyes as you sleep near his face—letting your nose and lips near his, you listened to the sound of calm rolling waves once again for the first time in your life. the sound that always comforts you when you sleep in soobin’s arms.

“you can always trust me.”

-

“i knew something was going on between the two of you.” suhyeon pointed with her forefinger at you who was sprawling on the couch of chaewon’s apartment. your t-shirt sticking to your skin with your legs almost giving out on your way home. a tired smile shows on your face as you gaze at the boy sitting beside you, letting out his sheepish smile and resting his arm around your shoulders. the sound of ice cubes and lemon in the glass of gin and tonic on your hand shakes as you giggle with your other three tipsy friends.

you trusted soobin’s words as it was the last vibration you heard before you push into your next phase of sleep. you believe that he’s telling the truth as you woke up from a great slumber and greet him to see he made your breakfast that day. and since that day, you try to rekindle your love for him back.

it’s admiring, really. how patient soobin is with your relationship as he helps you remember things and reminds you of things he did with you back on the island, even exchanging mementoes you recall with each other. you really want to tell the others how they are back on the island, but soobin stops you as he doesn’t want them to hurt you if they say they don’t remember.

“i’ve tried hinting it to them but there’s no use. they won’t remember.“ soobin complained.

so you let go of that notion and let your relationship with soobin bloom once again.

he has taken you on three dates where only the two of you are present. one of them is at his campus. he lets you stay with him at the library while he is doing an assignment—letting you chime in with your opinions that could help as you give him a few kisses on his head for encouragement.

your second date was when he took you to watch a play hosted by his campus theater club. the handbook they gave you says it’s a rendition of a midsummer night’s dream and soobin rambles more because this play is the one he analyzed last semester. you let out a chuckle as you see how his eyes gleam in glee as he stares at the actors performing on stage, even mumbling out a few lines he remembered. you kiss him on his jaw as you try to stop his jaw from dropping from the performance, lighting, sound effect, and many more.

the last date was when he and you set up a picnic at the park after both of your shifts at the pub is finished for the day. you finally discover the food he was making as you weren’t allowed to enter the kitchen—your rotating job that day was as one of the servers.

back when he and the rest of your friends visited your unit for dinner, you told him how the foods you made are from your grandma’s recipe book she wrote for herself and for you to keep—showing them the book as they discover the various foods in them. you didn’t realize that soobin took pictures of a few of the recipes to be your menu for the picnic. you were in awe at how similar the taste it before soobin showed it to you, letting laugh in the middle of the night at the empty park.

then, he lets you try a few puffs of his cannabis vape too as you share a bud of his earphones. psychedelic music playing.

“it’s gonna be trippy but you should relax your mind and let it take you away,“ he chimed.

your mind flew to other places with your hyperawareness. the touch of the grass is much sharper but you sensed something more as it energized you, letting the sound of the music enters one ear and the other hear the rustling wind against the leaves. soobin’s giggles almost all the time as your mind calms down before you’re being brought into a giggle fit you don’t know how to stop. letting your head rest on soobin’s shoulder as you stare at the view of the empty lot and the sound of a running stream from the bridge near where you sat.

remembering the nights you had with him just like this, even with your friends.

your plants seem to recognize the blooming feelings you have been feeling, and it surprises you how your potted plants and even the vines have flowers on them. some of them even grew a fruit which they let you pick.

that was the first time you recognized just how strong your emotions influence your connection to the plants and how with them in their flowering phase along with you, more butterflies and moths have gathered at your balcony as they eat the pollen and help spread it. you can’t help but also connected to the critters too as more and more came, remembering what grandma said, “you are one of them too, darling.”

and the thought that maybe they’re your ancestors crossed your mind as you see three distinct monarch butterflies always resting in your sanctuary.

this morning, before you went out with your friends, you find the three monarch butterflies you give the plants their nutritional needs when one landed on your hand as the other two follow. one of them is sitting on your green fingertips as if it knows how it does too.

“hey, grandma,” you spoke to the critter as it flutter its wings, happy that you recognized her too. you speak around with the butterflies—your mom and grandpa—when you see another color on the sprout. taking your attention away, you stare at the sight. its body larger than butterflies, a moth. you’ve seen this moth before with its distinct colors. a moth that you now recognized after getting help from a forum. the same moth that shows up in your backyard garden when you and grandma are drinking tea together, seeing it perched on top of the kettle.

“grandma, what is this one?” you point your fingers to the creature as it flutters its wings, greeting you.

“oh, this one.” grandma’s eyes glance upwards as she thinks. “i believe this is the garden tiger moth. you can see how its wings have a pattern similarly shown on a tiger’s or panther’s fur, right?”

you nodded as it flies and landed on your thigh. “hey, little one.”

“hey, little one,” you muttered as you look at it moving around on sprout’s petals. you have never seen this one in a while since that day and you surely don’t understand how it goes to your balcony in the morning sun where it should sleep with its companions. maybe, it has visited your balcony more than you know as it’s comfortable with it.

“i’ll let all of you stay with the moth, okay?” you push your hand out as the butterflies follow your others and rest on the leaves, saying your farewell before going with your friends.

you had a great time going to a music festival together as soobin stayed by your side at all times, openly telling the others that you are together right. which you both silently confirmed as you rested in chaewon’s apartment for another round of drinks.

“is that why soobin pushed me to cook up the other orders a few days ago? you were preparing her a meal?” suhyeon jokingly groans as jihoon nudges her, winking to let them know he knows.

“i was the one beside him when he took a picture of (y/n)’s grandma’s recipe,” he said before jaemin cuts him.

“then why didn’t you tell us? we could help be your wingmates, you fuck,” the tattooed boy comments, making all of you laugh as you put a hand on his shoulder.

“it’s okay. we’re both happy together now. with and without a wingman helping us.” you reassure him as you heard suhyeon’s mumbling “but i want to be your wingwoman, soob.”

“okay, i owe the four of you something now.” soobin replied as the others giggle including those who sees soobin slapping his forehead.

as you finished the rest of your glass, you finished your time together as all of you retire to your abode. you wanted to walk to yours when you sensed soobin tugging your arm, letting the force bring you to him as he wrapped his hands around your clavicle for a tight hug.

that’s when you perceived something hard against your lower back.

his breath brushes your earlobe as he traces it with his lips. your eyes enlarged as your hands reached his arms and grasp them, feeling something bubbling inside you. soobin’s lips trace your exposed neck before going up once again to the side of your ear as he whispers.

“i need you.”

your eyebrows are raised as you tug his hands off your body, letting you turn around as you tilt your head. you and soobin didn’t drink as much as the others, you are mostly sober with a slight buzzing on your head. yet his hooded eyes stare at yours with something different igniting inside him. his hand trails down to rest behind your shoulder as he pulls you into his vicinity.

“you need me?” you questioned as you let yourself get influenced by him, putting your palms on his biceps as your body rubs against his. the way your black graphic t-shirt blend in with his—the lost children’s style influence yours as you put away your light green and beiges to use darker greens instead. if you let your old self sees you, you might have been a much different person. almost unrecognizable. a gin and tonic lover who went out almost every night and hangs out with a crowd who are not in your realm. but this is what you understand as “spreading your wings.”

and you are spreading yours to embrace soobin.

“i want you. i need you. i crave you. i-“

you slammed your lips to his. your hands climbing up to his shoulder before pulling his head closer, tugging his soft blond hair as he nibbles your bottom lip, earning a quaint whine from you. your hands trail to cup his face as his tongue infiltrates inside your mouth to greet yours, letting it dance with each other as you can’t help about your muffled moans.

both of you are heaving as you let go. soobin’s lips are smeared with your purple matte lipstick—courtesy of jihoon’s recommendation as chaewon and suhyeon are arguing between the two swatches they chose for you. his hair and t-shirt are dishevelled from your grip as he jutted his chin between your door and his door, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“yours,” you replied as soobin lets out a smirk and wrap his hand around your wrist before pulling you to him as he punches the numbers in.

both of you stumble in as you tried your best to take your shoes as fast as you can, hearing soobin’s giggles as you throw your bag on his couch before you turn around to his gigantic silhouette illuminated by the few lamps on in the living room. he strides toward you and encompasses you in his arms, letting his lips return to their rightful place on yours. you perceived how his touch is seeping through the fabric of your top as he holds you where your ribcage is. you patted your hands down his front before meeting the end of his shirt. pulling upwards, soobin stretches his arms up high as you finally see his bare chest and abdomen after a long while.

you remembered viewing the exact thing as in neverland—especially with his signature dirty long white outer garment draping on his shoulder. his muscles are there and it’s enough for anyone to realize how fit he is without added effort and making him bulky. his figure looks more ethereal under the faint moonlight and yellow light coming from the lamps, making him look much more inhuman, especially with his unnaturally blond hair. your hand trails down his pectorals as he is trying his best not to push away from shivers, instead he lets his forehead and nose rub against yours as you trace the ridges on his body, in between his muscles on his abdomen and side.

it took you too long to admire his body quietly as you sensed his hands holding onto your hip, tugging your oversized t-shirt out of your pants. he gives you a peck before lifting the material as you let him. his eyes trace how your chest is covered in a sports bra—your favorite type of bra because of the freedom movement you get. you knew how unsexy it is but he didn’t care as he leans in to kiss your lips before trailing down to your jaw, neck, collarbone, the expanse of skin right above where your breasts are. biting your lip, both of your hands tug lightly on his hair as he bits lightly on your skin, seeing faint darkness form because of him and the dark purple makeup leaving a trail because of your lipstick stain on his lips. you let out a breathy moan as he trails his nose back up to the junction between your neck and collarbone.

“remember how i mark you here?” he whispered before giving a small kiss.

“yeah…” your hands trail down to hold his hands in yours before you felt him suck on the exact spot he gave to you in your previous life. a moan left out from you as your head remembers the memory simultaneously as he did it to you now. the night’s darkness masked both of you as the bonfire burns the remaining firewood when your curiosity caught you. you never told your parents how you knew about this stuff but it seems it’s a natural phase if you love someone. soobin lets the boys sleep elsewhere—something he rarely allows as he wants all of them to be secure—just to get you both alone and make love.

“can’t wait any longer,” he groans, pulling away as he caught you by surprise. soobin lifts you from the floor and carry you in a bridal pose. you let out a quick shriek, almost falling off before looping your hand around his shoulder.

his foot pushes the open bedroom door wider as best as he could before the sound of it slamming against the frame shocked you from the force of his foot, making you frown as he puts you to the ground before he lets out small apologies, peppering more kisses on your face. soobin smiles when you reciprocate and attached your lips back to his as his warm palm caress your bare skin. his hand tugs the end of your sports bra as he pulls it up. the tight yet flexible material is gripping onto your skin as he pulls it away, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

“i miss these two,” he mumble before attacking your left boob and cupping the other one with his free hand. your giggles subside as the pleasure wins once again. soobin continues his attack on your breasts with your hands helping his own trail down your body before cupping your jean-covered cheeks. your breathy moans are getting more rampant as he pushed more, one of his hands moves forwards to cup your core at the front as you rub it against him.

“it feels good to know you want me too.” soobin muttered. his touch, even with the layers, makes shivers run down your spine.

“i miss you too, pan. so much,” you replied, his hands unbuttoned your pants before he pushes you to the edge of the bed. your hands pushing your upper body up so you could see him crouching down and pulling your jeans off of you. your legs automatically helped, straightening them as your skin meets the room’s temperature. you lean your head back as his lips trail kisses from your ankles to your knees before to your inner thighs, your body jitters from the tickles and shivers. your hands fell out and now holding your body up by your forearms, you gaze down to watch him getting closer and closer to your core, squirming in his hold when you sensed his breath touching your wet underwear. he leans in and gives a small kiss to your covered core when you felt yourself gushing more.

“so wet.” he lets his nose tip caress your covered slit and clitoris before he sniffs. “you smell like flowers.”

his thumb rubs onto your nub—“he remembered” the words came into your thoughts—before looking up to find your face casting down on him. your body turns putty in his hold as your jaw slackens from how good it is

“darling. my darling,” you whine as he called you by your nickname, a faint slap of your underwear band that he pulled meets your skin as you catch his smug and darkened eyes resembling a much stronger look you hope you are showing to him. soobin’s hand encases your body between the bed and his body as he pulls your panty down, expecting him to throw it before you see him tugging it into his back pocket. his nose scrunches as he looks at your stunned face before he leans down as gives you a short yet satisfying kiss.

“go up the bed,” he commands. you scoot yourself up to his bed, sitting cross-legged as you wait for him who is standing by it. his gaze lands on you as if you were a piece of sculpture in the middle of a museum. he unfasten his pants as fast as he could and you notice his dark gray boxer with an outline and a dark spot at the end of it. you swallow your drool as you remember the first and only time you ever had a man’s member inside you. it was his. and you can’t even wrap your palm around him fully.

you exhale as he pulls his boxers off and his cock sprang up; the blood rushing down to his member as he senses the arousal all around him. soobin leans in and crawls onto the bed with you. you thought he was going to push you down and trap you under him like the last time you had intercourse on the island. he chuckles at your bewildered face as he lays down with his head on his pillow, facing up along with his cock standing tall. your mouth opens as you wanted to ask before he cuts you.

“come sit on my face.”

“i- what?” your eyebrows crease as soobin leans up and grabs your waist, handling you as you sit scoot closer to his head.

“please? you smell so good and i want to devour you. i couldn’t forgive myself if i don’t.” soobin said as you bit your lip.

“i don’t want to suffocate you, soob-“

“you will not suffocate me. i’ll hold your hips up.” he nods his head, trying to convince him. your gaze continues downward as you see his length twitch, the blood pumping into it. you as you let out a nod before you sit on your knees.

“face my dick, darling.” he returns to command. you carefully hover above his face, placing your other knee on the other side of his head. soobin’s hands come to resting on top of your thighs as he drags you down. you let out a breathy moan as his nose tip grazes your lower lips, making you lean forward and rest your hand on his abdomen.

“just like that, yes.” soobin murmured as you lean your body more forward, almost meeting his curving long length. your body trembled when you felt something wet against your lower lips. you tried your best to turn around, yet your physique doesn’t allow it. your jaw slackens and moans come out in a quiet and timely manner. as his tongue moves around and he gives a suck on your clit.

you leaned forward and trail your hand up to his erect cock, a hum coming from him as the slurping sound continues. you wanted to focus on pleasuring him too. that’s when you catch the drops of pre-cum coming out of him. this turns him on. this is also a pleasure for him.

your thumb reaches for the tip of his dick as you rub the liquid down on the tip. your body wants to grind on his face because of how sensitive you are as he holds your thighs down, not helping you at all. you lean down and see how the liquid looks like a bead of pearl, letting the tip of your tongue touches his head as you picked up his muffled groan from between your thighs. one of your hands reaches to wrap around his member as best as you can—still as big as ever as you remember it with how there is a gap even in your hold. you lean forward more as soobin’s grip on you slacken to let you rest your tummy against his skin, trailing your tongue up from the base to the tip of his head.

“hmm… fuck…” you mumbled as something pierced through your lower lips before his tongue returned. his digit pushes in then pulls out in a small rhythm as you tried to follow it with the hand stroking his dick, resting your lips against his tip before you wrapped them around it, enveloping the very top of it as soobin continues.

the build-up gets higher and higher as time goes on. edging closer and closer.

your body quivers as he added another finger in, making you cum without even warning him. but soobin’s groan tells you otherwise as he devours your release. as he pushed deeper and scissors you to prepare for him, you swallow more of him as best as you can, the edge of your mouth hurting from stretching it so much. your tongue caressing the side of his cock as you felt it at the back of your mouth. when your gag reflex reacts, you pulled him out and focus on breathing as soobin enters one more finger.

“ahh, soob-“ you moan. your nails gripping his skin creating crescent-shaped marks on his thighs as you lean forward and help stimulated him. soobin’s muffled howl continues as you finally hear him clearly. his head leans back on the pillow as he finally let you focus on him.

“fuck. i need to feel you more,” he spoke, pulling you off of him as you place yourself beside him. your hand is still stroking his cock. his face tilts to you as you continue. the way the pre-cum falls and mixes with your saliva is perfect lubrication. your eyes gaze and meet soobin with the same lustful gaze looking back at you.

you move around and straddle his lap. your folds touching his exposed skin, caressing the side of his cock. sitting on it enough so it stays in between you and his abdomen.

“shit. you’re so beautiful,” he commented as you tilt your head and enjoyed yourself grinding on him. your face turns as you sensed the sensation of the caress before it lands on a mirror sticking to the door of his wardrobe. even with how small you are from how far it is, you can see how you look like. well, how unrecognizable you are with your melting eye makeup and smeared lipstick combined with saliva and drool, resembling soobin’s lips under you as he left a mark on yourself, staining your thighs with the color on your lips.

you gnaw your bottom lip as you hold yourself up with your knees, grabbing soobin’s length as he reaches his hands out to caress your thighs.

“i love you, soobin,” you murmured. fly high much more above the clouds.

“i love you too, (y/n),” he replied as his tip nudge your prepared core and you let it slip in you. soobin’s hands move to your waist as your body trembles. the familiar feeling you recognize will only subside if you continue. and how you want to continue because of him. only him.

you felt him deeper as you let your butt touches his thighs. the way his grip on you tightens as you hold yourself up, both of your hands on his chest now. his eyes looking at you with stars in them, the moon shining perfectly on the side of his face, with the lamp’s color combining into a beautiful hue. you let out a muffled whine from how full you are because of him. the desire scouring inside you makes you want to bounce on him. but as you prepare, soobin’s eyebrows furrowed.

“you’re okay with this? it’s been a long time since we did this.” his gaze is full of lust but also cautious, rubbing your butt as it trails to where he can trace your lower lips widening to let his cock in, making you squirm.

“i don’t want to hurt you.” his ever-changing demeanor makes you melt in his arm.

“i- i can,” you spoke, moving on him slowly as his hold moved to your waist. even with the slow drag of you lifting your hips up and down on his shaft, both of you enjoy it. his thumb reaches up and caresses your right nipple, making you move your hands to his shoulder as you lean forward, letting your hips move on his length.

soobin reaches for your fallen hair and pushes it away from your face, letting his palm cup your cheek as his thumb caresses your lips before he pushes it in. you moaned around his digit as you continue to move on him, feeling his tip right at the edge of your entrance before falling down onto him in quick succession.

“that’s right. you feel so fucking good,” he mumbled as you nod your head, sucking on his thumb as you felt the other one rubbing your clit.

“ah! fuck!” you squeal. soobin moves his free hand to your upper back to push you closer. his tongue pushes out and circles your areola before sucking one nipple. your head turns down to see him marking your breasts. his blond hair tickles your nose as you sniff it, smelling a faint wood scent as you are being stimulated by many things. his shaft filling you, his thumb rubbing your nub, and his tongue and teeth giving dark spots on your chest.

your hips faltered as you let out a louder moan than usual, facing the headboard as you breathe as best as you can.

“hold on to me,” soobin whispered as you lower yourself on him and looked at his face. your hands grip his muscled arms as he bucks himself into you. his heels on the mattress and knees touching your thigh as he thrust up into you. you let your body succumb to him.

“that,” you reach to hold his jaw. “fuck. that feels so good.” you moan as you stare at soobin’s smirk, a dimple on his cheek as he reaches his hand to pull your hair back.

“you’re clenching on me so good. make this pussy mine. made it just for me,” he mumbled before slackening his hold. your forehead touches his as you lean down and kiss him hard. your moans are muffled as he quickens his pace, breathing and groans mixing with each other. eyes only focusing on his face.

“you’re mine,” he spoke, changing his pace into a slower one, but he slams deep in one push. your spent body taking him in as it gets deeper and deeper. his hand rubs your lower stomach and pushes it, feeling his enormous cock inside of you.

“say it back,” he said with a lower register.

“i’m yours.”

soobin groans as he pushes himself up and sat up with you on him. he attacks your neck as he lifts your hips up, thrusting upwards as you felt your g-spot being hammered multiple times and becoming much more sensitive. your eyes gaze at the mirror, meeting soobin’s backside as his muscles contort to hold you and push into you. his lips take bites into your skin as your nails caress down the expanse of his back.”

“say it again.”

“i’m yours. i’m yours,” you mumbled those words like a mantra as soobin expertly moves your hips with just his strength. more marks bloom on your torso and your neck as your nails scratch his skin, claiming him as yours too.

you pull soobin’s head from your body as you face his determined and lusty face. his eyebrows furrowed as you trace it with your thumb.

“you’re,” a thrust makes you moan. “mine too, r-right?”

“darling. i’m always yours forever.” he gritted his teeth as he said that, more determined than ever as you push your lips to him. your mouth slotted open as he pushes his tongue with yours. drools fall out of the edge of your lips as you chase your high. his thrusts continue as you meet your hips with his with the energy you still have.

“fuck!” you shriek. “i’m gonna cum!” you warned him unlike last time as you pant along with him.

“cum with me. i’m following you,” he mumbles as his eyes glance straight to yours and nowhere else. your hand resting on his nape as you look at how purple soobin’s lips are from your lipstick, faint black streaks are there too from your melting eyeliner from swear and tears.

your mouth slacken as a loud pornographic moan came out of your voice, clenching onto his cock as your eyes roll back from the immense pleasure as you felt your cum gushing out. soobin’s thrusts faltered as he lets out a moan, your hands holding his face as he cums right after you. your inside is warm as he fills you up, pushing you down to fit him inside. but even with that, you feel both of your mixed cum leaking out of you.

both of your breathing match each other. the room is filled with your breathing sounds and sounds from you moving against him because of the moisture between your bodies. you can't hold yourself to let out a smile as you lean down and kiss him, seeing him by the beach with the sunset behind him as memories of him gushing into your brain. his hands caressing your back and trailing down your spine. foreheads sticking to each other as you let the atmosphere come down and seep into you.

you lean your body close as soobin hugs you tight on top of him. chest on chest. breath by breath as you let your eyes wander on his face. how both of you blend in with each other. how both of you are the same.

“stay with me.” his voice rings. a memory of yours rekindles, both of your feet on top of the leave-covered dirt of the forest.

“hmm?”

“stay with me. move in with me. we can live together. sleep in this bed together. cooking each other food. all of those domestic shit we can do together. we have the floor for us as our cave in neverland but i wanna be closer to you.” his tangent stops as you stare at him, your mind conflicting with the smaller voices in you. so small that it isn’t noticeable as the doubt gets bigger.

“i’ll keep you here by my side. safe. happy. until forever.” his eyes let out those same eyes you see back in neverland. soft yet determined. but something spoke to you in the back of your mind, indecipherable, but you note it.

“how about my plants? my other stuff? i can’t just let go of that after having it here for months.” you voice out the doubt as his lips pouted.

“you could always stay back to them. i’m not gonna stop you from taking care of your apartment. i want to see you wake up and go to sleep every day beside me,” he reassured, caressing your cheekbone.

“please, my darling?” he pleaded.

your furrowed eyebrows soften as you lean into his touch, and let out a hum as your mind finally made the choice.

“i’ll stay."

-

that sentence rings in your mind until it became subtle and vanishes into thin air.

you kept your word. you stay with him.

a month has passed since you agree. clothes moved to be put beside his in the wardrobe. apartment left unattended with only unneeded stuff inside and your plants you still take care of. the status of your apartment changes from a home and became more of a sanctuary, bleeding its influence of only the balcony to the inside of the clean and tidy four-walled rooms.

yet, even with you not living there, you promised yourself that you didn’t let it go. the evidence of your hard work ever since moving here will still be there. but the time you spent there isn’t as much as it used to be. you now live with soobin. and now, your apartment has become a secret garden just for you and sometimes for your friends too. if you remember it, you went. but a secret can also be forgotten.

another month has passed. moments upon moments between you, soobin and the others have become one-on-one similar to how all of you were in neverland. even you can see some similar physical traits between the others and the boys who you could now name from memory. yeonjun, beomgyu, taehyun, and kai.

and yet, you don’t have that many human connections anymore outside of them. your other co-workers seem to ignore you even though they used to be friendly towards you. you used to take a break with them during lunch break—especially with aeri and jongho—but it changed. they seem to stare at you with caution and you don’t know why.

all of that becomes more prominent when you can’t seem to go outside without the other five with you. at least one has to stay by your side as soobin allows it. you trust them as you listened to stories of thugs bothering chaewon and suhyeon, making all of you promise to stay with each other and not go out alone. soobin kept his promise to keep you safe even if he always has to be beside you.

kook only talks small words to you at work. he gives no more ledgers for you to read after the incident. mingyu also greets you with a few words before taking care of his work. it was depressing to experience that, but when you come back to your new humble abode, soobin is always there to take care of you, either by cuddling you or pleasuring you in every inch of the living room.

and now, another month later, here you are alone on the balcony of soobin’s apartment as you see the light blue swallowed by the horizon; drinking your favorite gin and tonic with only a few droplets of it left. your mind is still reeling when you heard the news that he has laid you off from neverland. kook doesn’t even bare to tell you why and you wanted to guess it is because he is ashamed for the things he treated you to but months have passed since that. there goes your safety net.

“i’ll help you pay for your living costs,” soobin replied after you confide in his safety from the layoff, wetting the work dress that he still uses from the pub a few hours ago. you didn’t understand any better—non-city native playing the game to live in the city—so you confide with the people you trust, especially soobin.

and with you having no job and being under soobin’s care. you stay around the tower most of the time, helping the other four to clean their apartment units, buying groceries for the fridge and your “family” dinner at jihoon’s place, and taking an interest in drawing from the scrapbook you remember suhyeon gave you along side taking notes—resembling the few pages you’ve filled in from months before. you’ve tried your best to draw your friends, but you knew you could do more and so you continue with that, taking it as a full-time hobby, and might become a job opportunity too. besides, what is your other hobby you love and are passionate about other than drawing and journaling?

yet even within the six of you, you can’t relate to any of their struggles anymore. college, work, getting their own money, clubs, and many more. cause of it, you felt as if you are straying away. you wanted to connect more with them, but you don’t know how to connect it, especially with the other four and all the things they have that you don’t. you tried your best to reach out to them other than hanging out. you tried, but everyone seems to ignore you. no one answers your text in the group chat and no one answers your call until your data ran out. unless you’re the one replying to them, they never replied to you. it’s like you’re in a vacuum where no one recognized you existed. yet, you don’t know how to escape the bubble.

you’ve tried to confide in soobin again but he is busy focusing on his exams coming and you don’t want to bother him for something so trivial. if soobin is nearing an exam, the other four must also be doing that. and it makes sense if they ignore you. it just makes you feel more ashamed being so clinging.

yet, even with that, it doesn’t answer why’re you feeling weird.

it feels like you've fallen out of the world, realizing it doesn’t call or care for you.

sitting by the balcony with the near-empty glass, you consider sucking the lemon to have the taste of gin and tonic in your hand again. but if the drink you were drinking represents the world you live in—no matter how uncaring it becomes to you, you will not consume it and you rather leave the slice alone; just a tiny glimpse of what the world that you used to feel again. your phone is always near you as you waited for any notifications to come and ask for you, but no one reaches out to you unless it is necessary. you are now all alone as you could only look out to the unfamiliar view.

you’re forgotten by the world. and you just realize it now.

everything was normal. but what is this?

your vision is clouded by the sense of unfamiliarity with the view behind the fence of the balcony. but that is all you could do while waiting for soobin to get home from the college’s library for a study session with the others. the food you made is laid on the dining table that is meant for the two of you. the sun sinking down from this view is not the same as the one from your sanctuary.

your sanctuary.

an epiphany crosses your mind as you stare back into the living area straight to the front door of the apartment. how could you just remember it now? you should’ve visited there if you can. but the thought of that didn’t even cross your mind for the last month you’ve been living.

thoughts also clouded your mind as doubt comes in. doing the others’ services and taking care of them didn’t make time for you to even visit your sanctuary. you don’t want to lie to yourself, but is there a reason they made you forget?

the urge for you to stay being fought with the way your heart pushes you to go back to your place. rain hasn’t come since forever as you were under soobin’s sweet words last month. words full of love and care, even with his soothing gesture to calm you down as you got your last paycheck. words that let you cling to him as a rock and the way your other four friends lift you up too.

but it doesn’t feel right.

you push yourself up as you walk and walk, ignoring his pieces of furniture as you put the glass on the coffee table and you walked out barefooted. everyone was outside, no one can stop you now.

every conversation for the last three months is running in your mind. and you found a thorough line to it: everyone on this floor seems to stop you from getting back to your own apartment. hypnotize by a force to make you stay with soobin. and they succeed. they comment in bad ways but all of them have said the same thing.

“soobin will be disappointed.”

and you didn’t want to disappoint soobin. you didn’t want to disappoint your love.

but why should you visit your sanctuary disappoint him?

yet here you are standing on the door right next to it. the alarming beep rings into your ear as you tried your best to find a hint in your mind of what the passcode is—it’s been so long since you’ve been here. your mind buzzing with worrisome before a memory knocks on its door.

“the group chat,” you mumbled to yourself, recalling a message for all of your friends’ passcode in it. opening the chat, you type the right keyword as a list of six appears. the list of passcode for all six units on the floor. you stare at yours as you make out six digits that are so familiar.

the birthdate of grandma.

“grandma…” you mumbled. it’s been a long time since you hear the word too.

the hesitation comes as fast as a shooting star as all the memories that were pushed back of yourself and your home are pulled into the limelight once again. you put the passcode in as fast as you can before barging the door open wide as you see the glimmer of the sun still enter the room from the outside. hoping to look at your clean living room and area that you left.

but what you find is different.

vines crawling inside your living room on top of your couch and all over the tiled floor as they all are reaching towards the front door. but when you inspect them closer, you didn’t feel any sense of liveness from them. all of them are dry, crumbling under your touch. your feet carefully step between the empty spaces of the growing vines as you step into your sanctuary. the sky is still lit enough to see the leaves' silhouettes, but dark enough that you didn’t instantly notice that they lost their signature green colors.

your beige pants blend in with them as you turn yourself around, seeing all the plants in the pot have wilted. strong stems and leaves crinkle with no nutrients and water. their dried leaves under you every time you took a step—inspecting how badly you’ve treated them that they’re lacking on things to live. you picked up a small shake piercing through the sunset’s wind sound, shifting to detect the source from a daisy flower with most of its petals fallen on the soil. a gasp emerges as soon as you see it and you approached the flower. you touch its stem lightly—none of the green shows up on your fingertips.

“sprout?” you mumbled to it, eyes stinging as your vision blurred from the tears after seeing what happened to your precious plant. it waves its leaf to you—a small force from anything and it will fall. you pushed your might to make your green thumb back, to at least redeem yourself helped it after having it under your care for a long time—your first plant. but after the reduced usage of it for the past three months, you didn’t know it will affect your skill this way.

these plants were supposed to be under your care and you failed. your palm opens under sprout’s leaf and a small blow pushes the leaf to fall to join the composting petals, landing on your hand. the tears break out and streak down your cheek as the magical feeling of the sanctuary dims along with the sun down the horizon. your eyes trail the vines that have entered from the balcony door when you realized what they wanted to do.

they all wanted to reach for you. to come back. but their anatomical limitations failed them.

you failed them.

your knees buckle as you sat among the plants you promised to care for, their lives dissipating from you as you didn’t care about the soil on your fingers staining your cheeks. you rub your face to wipe the tears as your guilt cascades out of you. just realizing what your carelessness has gotten to them, and what the others have stopped you from doing. breathing becomes unbearable as your head hurts. that is until you felt something caressing your hair-covered cheek.

turning towards the source, you find a moth gliding next to you. its wings flutter as you can trail the intricate motives on it.

the garden tiger moth.

it flies into your open door of the unit as your eyes watch. the urge to make you follow the critter is pushing for you to stand up and observe what is it doing in your apartment.

you pursued its silhouette as best as you can but you realize how agile it is as it enters the bedroom quickly. when you approach it slowly, you see its shadow on the wall across from you as it lands on pieces of paper on the desk. pieces of paper that used to be the ledgers you get from kook. the last one was from the day of the incident.

stepping closer, you approach it as you met its white-colored back of the paper. your hands pick the paper up as you search for what is interesting on the paper before you turn it around. your eyes catching the numbers printed with scribbled notes. all of them are crossed out multiple times as you find one that is clean. weirdly clean,

“i have to tell (y/n)…“ you read it loudly to yourself.

“go on.“

your head lifts as you searched for the voice that sounded familiar but then find no one around except for you. your eyes continue scanning the paper you find now before returning to the stack of paper. he gave you more than one sheet that night, you recalled. you pick up another one as you flipped the paper over, finding it full of marker scribbles as a few of them are readable enough for you.

i’m here to tell you, (y/n)

please believe me.

you pick up another paper to examine readable writing that you need to decipher longer before you pick up more and one last one as you turn it around. words written crashing down the ink from the printer, the numbers swallowed by the black marker’s ink as you were met with a phrase.

soobin is not what he seems to be

“soobin is not what he seems to be.” the voice sounded once again as you look back up, still finding no one as you gathered the paper in your grasp.

“who are you?” you mumbled, sniffing your runny nose from the leftover emotions you let out. you walk around your room as you near the mirror you bought along with the wardrobe. walking past it and giving a small glance, you didn’t find yourself in your beige pyjama pants and soobin’s oversized t-shirt. instead, you were met with a figure wearing a long flowy white dress. you see them barefooted as specks of red are on the ends of the dress. letting your eyes trail up, you finally discover the figure’s face.

it’s you.

you jumped before stepping closer, seeing the moth now resting on top of your head before you see yourself smile.

“i didn’t think this would work.“ you see yourself speaking from the mirror, but you didn’t even move your mouth in real life, only your reflection. the moth landed on your head as you return to the frame.

“i’ve been watching over you ever since you lived with your grandma, darling.“ you put two and two together

“who are you? and are you the moth?”

“i’m you. well, you from the past life. where we flew to neverland with pan and meet the other boys.” you let out a small smile as you lean down to peer at the bloodied dress.

“well, yes, i am the moth that you’ve found where you were a child. the moth that visit you in your first day here. the moth that stays here at night to take care of you. it’s been fun befriending your ancestors. especially your grandma and mom.”

“you mean the butterflies?” you nod.

“it’s your family, all of them even outside of the monarch species. there is a reason your grandma said to you to spread your wings. she always knew your lineage is connected to the butterflies just like i do with the moths. similar but not the same.” your eyes are trying to read your face as you search for the right words to continue.

“she is so proud of you and everything you face. adulthood is hard and even i could say that when i didn’t even live past 20 years of age. but after what you’ve become from the last three months and how you left the plants alone. she didn’t visit as much. i was mostly alone trying to help the plants but there is not much you can do in a body of a moth.” hearing it, you stare down at the floor as the guilt pushes you, your movement heavy because of it.

“why are you telling me this?” you said, nibbling the inside of your cheek as you glance back at your reflection.

“though you have your memories back, not all of them are there. i’m here to help you open them. there is a reason you see me like this. there is a reason that your last moments with soobin were with you in his arms.” you showed the bloody dress and dishevelled hair.

“because of kook stabbing my back, right?”

you recalled the memory of it in your mind as you and soobin had a pillow talk. just another night for him and you to open up about yourselves and your memories coming back. that night, he mention how you died in his arms. how hook stab your back as he kidnapped you. your memory of that time was chopped into parts you don’t know how to assemble them. and even with you pushing yourself to remember, it’s not there and now you’re hurting yourself too much.

“no. we’re the one that is asking him to do that.”

what?

eyebrows raised, you stare at yourself as you see your reflection’s sullen expression.

“why is that?” you continue.

“i will help you but brace yourself. this is going to be painful. please close your eyes, (y/n).“

the tear pooling from your eyes falls as your eyelids close. lasting words echoes in your voice.

“trust me, (y/n). i am you.”

you heard waves and your body swaying, standing on a not-so-stable foundation. you tried to move your body when you lean back and met a sturdy beam. wooden creaks masked the crashing waves as footsteps come closer.

something lifts from your head as you grimace from the sunlight hitting you directly even with your closed eyelids. they’re blurry as you opened them. your head is pounding as the sun hits you when you take the salty smell. a specter standing before you as it slowly taken its more recognizable shale—a triangle shape on the top of human figure.

“good morning,” an familiar voice calls out to you. your gaze focuses on their tattoos peeking out of the sleeves before they rise to see the piercings decorating their face.

“who are- ah gosh!” you exclaimed from your aching head, looking sideways as you recollect your thoughts back one by one. the captain in front of you lets out a chuckle as you hissed away, shaking your bounded hands as best as you can.

“hope you had a good sleep. you being drunk last night makes our job easier,” the pirate answers as he stood still, seeing you recover yourself before your eyes focus on the moving commotion behind him. the pirate crews all are moving items here and there on the deck: tying the ropes of the sail, preparing gunpowders and cannonballs—your eyes travel above your head when you see the ripped sail from the mast you are tied to. all the pieces culminating in your head as the cogs in your brain move to put them into place.

that’s when it hit you.

they’re leaving. and they will be leaving with you.

“why am i here, hook?” you said with your gritted teeth, rubbing the rope against the wooden beam as best as you can. you knew that it might work as yeonjun taught you to cut a rope with a rock, even showing you how to do it when you helped him cut a trapped animal from one of the traps he use to hunt.

“that’s captain jeon to you, miss. i suppose because you live with those lost boys you called me ‘hook’ too.” the captain spits out as your gaze continues moving to observe the hectic ship’s deck. the urgency growing inside of you as you don’t know if you can conceal your hands from moving faster than they should be. the faster it will be, the better the chances of you returning to your commune.

but did you want?

“answer my questions or i’ll scream my heart out so the boy-“

“you’re here because you’re in danger!“

the captain’s words cut yours off to a halt. eyes narrowing as you stare at the captain, noticing the paper on his only hand with the arch of his hook nudging against your forearm.

“right as we want to talk with you about something. i heard you grumble to yourself about not being able to go home.“ the captain continues as your gaze on him is full of caution. but you don’t want him to know that when he spoke the words about going back home, you remembered your thoughts from last nights before going unconscious, even in the middle of the rum’s influence.

“we saw pan flying back from the other world holding a stack of papers. fortunately, a few of them were caught by the wind and fall to our area.“ hook looks down at the paper he holds before pushing one towards your vision.

“you couldn’t believe what we read.“ his words fade as you stare at the writings and a drawing on the paper.

MISSING

(y/f/n)

Description: Last seen in a white dress...

your eyes gaze down at the words before you stare back at the illustration above the name. a sketch of your face that resembles as close as you look. looking down once again, past the big words of where to report and the informations of your appearance, you see words written in cursive. an afterthought that someone might have wrote as you read the words one by one. eyes widen when you understand what is implying.

please bring our darling back.

your heart tugs within you making you bite your lip. the leftover emotions from last night come again as you look elsewhere, shaking your head to not internalize the words.

“how, how should i trust you that soobin brought this back here? you could be lying and made, and-“ your running thoughts stopped you from talking. your gaze returns back to the captain, seeing a slight frown in his expression before he looks away.

“mingyu, bring the other ones.“ hook spoke loudly to his first mate, mingyu, when you heard the wooden sounded behind you—the area of the upper deck you could vividly identify from memory. footsteps rapidly approaching where you were tied as you notice around ten more sheets of paper identical to the one the captain showed you in his hands. some of the ink streaks makes the words larger and some of them crinkled under the sun—must’ve been picked up from the ocean’s surface as you might guess from a sheet of paper falling from the sky.

you scoured the papers one by one as your breathing becomes short. finding the exact same information even to the small cursive writing that is littered in different areas of each posters. not believing what you figured out may be true before you even see scratchier handwriting that a child must have written—one of your youngest siblings.

“they’re searching for me.“

your thoughts from last night came back to you as your drunken rage determines you to make the choice of going home because of how lonely you are feeling. even after staying here for longer than you remembered, you still miss your family back home. you can’t help but be to envious of your younger siblings as your mother and father spare you, but that doesn’t mean that you hated their guts because they live. if the posters said anything, they’ve missed their oldest sibling too.

the thoughts reminds you back to soobin’s plea to make you stay. doubts still are within you as you wanted to go home before he tells you how much they don’t worry about you. how he told you stories of his own parents and why he now lives here with the boys. pan’s arms are around you as you cry your heart out from how much you miss them. the unfulfilled promise he still owes you that made you that drunk last night.

how he convinces you so much that you believe him.

“is everything pan told me a lie?“ you said with a resolute voice, the rage making the vase inside your splinter into smithereens as you can’t help but let the tears that were prickling your eyes out and stain your cheeks. the muscles on your face contort as you felt folds forming from how you frown and blare your nostril until it became numb to your nerve how sore it is.

“we- we don’t know, (y/n)-“ his voice got caught off as a familiar moth flow to land on the paper. a moth you remember staying by your pot of flowers by your windowsill. its wings flutter as you stare at it, vision got blurry as you covered them.

instead, you were greeted with a white fog as you gazed at an intersection that you recognized to be where your home is located. you were idle as you stare down to see the end of the paper gushing from the night’s wind. you’re seeing the road as part of the poster itself, sticking onto a pole while being blown by the light gush of the night’s wind.

that’s when you notice a shadow rushing around the lamppost across from you that you see also have the same posters. the silhouette gets clearer and clearer until you take in colors on a person right under the streetlight. the familiar outer garment turned into a white coat as did with his tattered pants became clean, but their unnaturally blond hair stood out.

pan.

soobin.

his eyes gaze at the poster right across the street from where you at as you see him ripping it off and tucking it beside his other hand—where you can see how thick the stack is. he does that multiple times on the posters on poles and beams, picking away other people’s effort to search for your whereabouts. and as he pulls them off more and more, you realized just how much he doesn’t care about your status to the people back at your home.

his mumbling voice gets closer to where you at before he’s standing in front of you. you couldn’t say anything even if you want to. at this state, you were the paper that he will be ripping from where they stick you in a few minutes.

shivers run down your body as you met soobin’s dark gaze while he stares at the poster—you. when you look down on his image, the sleeves of his white coat are littered with maroon petal-like patterns. too unnatural to be done by a tailor. you can even smell the iron-like scent exuding from the patches.

“this world doesn’t deserve you, my darling. you’re mine to keep in neverland. and i’ll do anything to make you stay.“ soobin monologues to the drawing of you; his cold demeanor is something you recognized from the first months you lived as his neighbor.

“if it means i have to kill the people that spread these posters,“ he said with his clenched teeth before ripping the paper off.

the sound of it rings in your ear as you heard the rustling of trees from the shore beside the pirates’ ship. your gaze returns from the leaves as you see your bloody self between the captain and his first mate as you gave a nod.

“we need to get out of here.“ you find your resolution as you were met with a saddening gaze of yourself before you perceived something surging in your body. an alert of some sort playing in your head as your vision returns to the forest. the trees are moving from above, the branches getting tighter to form a barrier of some sort. that is until you feel something hurting you from the inside in a form familiar to a lightning strike, quick in succession. a few more painful slashes you felt within you as you can feel plants losing their links to you. all the plants that you have connected with throughout the island is telling you the same thing as more and more hits come to hurt you.

“he’s coming. pan is coming.“ you said with your might as strong as you could, holding the pain inside to not let the pirates panic. hook’s eyes widened along with mingyu before the captain commands his mates to hurry up. a slap on the skin is what you felt when the island’s plants are being cut off one by one, all of them are there to protect you and to let you leave with the pirates as fast as you can.

the captain is turning around when you call, “captain jeon.“

he turns towards you as your limp body leans forwards from exhaustion. but you held your head up high as you said to him, “if he comes closer to me, i want you to kill me with the dagger i brought.”

you knew about the dagger’s disappearance as you felt how light the sheath of it wrapped around your thigh. you remember it falling from your grasp when you wanted to attacked who kidnapped you. and so, you knew that they have it their possession. it will be a haunting memory for the boy to see if he is not careful enough.

“what do you mean, miss-“

“you know what he is capable of.“ you sniff your runny nose as the emotions are pouring out of you. “he won’t stop until he gets me back. and i rather die than be with his manipulative self.“

your vision reverts as you stare at yourself in the mirror. the weights on your words echoes in your thoughts as you finally recalled the whole truth that is also hurting yourself from within you. fists clenched as you try to bare it.

“then soobin came flying to the top of the ship’s deck with a machete. slashing every crewmate that fought for us before his powers explode around the human barrier.“

your eyebrows furrowed, listening to you talking as the exact memory is playing into your head. on how you tried your best to look away at the brutality and the truth of the boy you love so much. you soothe yourself from the pain in your head for learning the ultimate truth. a force within yourself is pushing back on something powerful to make you not remember. something that must have come from a being as strong as pan.

“blood and flesh splatter everywhere as soobin approaches us. he had a manic look in his eyes before untying us. i was numb in wretch and disgust for the boy i love to be as ignorant to other people. the blood of the crewmates stains our white dress as he hugs us. but you remember what i said to hook, and we felt something pierce through our skin from the lower back. the dagger he gave to us.“

you stare at yourself as you were given a bird's eye view of your memory. you remembered mentioning the dagger you talked about with soobin before he was being put off of it. but you called him out about his pocket knife as he immediately reply with “i don’t have a pocket knife.” something that makes you squint your eyes as you remember a certain swiss army knife in his possession.

your memories continue to play in your mind as you see yourself slump on the deck where you see soobin being held back by captain jeon. the pain surging through your body and your head getting heavy from the blood loss. that’s when soobin hits hook in the stomach before reaching for you, wrapping your weaken body near his own.

“i almost spoke our last words to him before death comes to pick us up in his arm as we lose so much blood, staining his already bloody hands to add more to his kill list.“ you continue to tell.

“i…“ your voice is so little only he could pick up. soobin’s tears fall on his cheek as your life fades away.

“you know what i wanted to say to him as i died in his arms?“ your old self asked as you stare at her in the mirror.

i love you?

i’m sorry?

those were what you thought before you hear the actual answer.

“i won’t forgive you.“

the words caught you off guard as you make sense of it. for sure, that is what you will say to him after everything that is done between you and him on that forsaken island. his restrictions to you to visit home even when he flew there to do his errands, his hold on you so tight that he won’t let you go until he needed too. the way he trusted the boys to take care of you, to be your guard in both positive and negative way. and also, the other beings on the island hating you might be one of the evidences of that—he doesn’t want you to be close to other beings.

“why didn’t these memories come to me when i remember?” you muttered as you stare at yourself, seeing the sagging of your shoulders as a tear dropped from your eyes.

“you don’t know. i know you don’t because soobin did something to stop you from remembering that.” you give a solemn smile.

“i was given a chance to see myself and neverland for the last time before death take me away to the afterlife. that’s when a sudden burst came from him. it killed those on the ship: hook, yeonjun, taehyun, kai, and beomgyu who arrived at the beach, and more people that i knew won’t have a chance to live because of his first outburst. but it is bigger in scale than i thought.” you inspect the blooming trauma in your eyes before continuing.

“every living being on the island was dead because of him and his selfishness. and it turns neverland into a lush island full of crimson.” you let out a frown, continuing to listen.

“so he take our dead body to the island’s deity’s altar and beg for it to give him a second chance to be with us, but he failed.”

your legs wobble, especially from the known information about him as you hold on to the mirror’s frame. how can he be so cruel to other beings? he is the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. but now, you don’t know if what he told you is the truth or not. what his actions is really from him or just something he want to portray to make you believe him.

“that’s when he purposed something. he’ll get us back and rip our memory of bad things involving him and our captivity by his side. in return, he gave up his powers, immortality, and the neverland island.”

“he’s immortal?” you then got a reply with a hum.

“all of the lost boys are immortal, especially with his responsibility to be the imaginary friend to children who is scared to grow up. he never wanted to do that in the first place, right?”

he never wanted to grow up. that’s true. all the lost boys never wanted to grow up beyond 18. beyond the cusp of adolescence and childhood. maybe he wanted you to be like that too, but you were mortal and you were knew to the place. the other boys got killed by his powers—maybe his power set transcends immortality.

“‘the great pan is dead’ was what everyone was chanting as he sacrifices himself. i watched from the nearby tree with clenched as the island lost its protector; all of them not knowing that he is sacrificing them too, just to get you back.”

and that’s why you’re back with your ability to connect with plants coming naturally—your gift of loving them back your home is embraced by the island’s magical rules. the lost boys are back but not in the same body. hook and his first mate is back and so are the pirate mates who are your other co-workers in the pub. maybe there were even more people like you back then who had elemental powers on the island. maybe they are there but soobin’s selfishness holds you back to discover and learn from them.

but what you are disappointed about yourself is how you can easily believe him after all of that. and now you’re here, getting back into the same cycle when he even made you forgot to take off the plants that you have promised to yourself, especially daisy sprout who you have been given since you were child living with your grandma. you didn’t have any choice to fight against the forces that pushes you to forget, before you helped by uncovering the truth.

“how about the rumors about kook at the pub?”

“it’s false. he might be the only other person to realize the reincarnation. the poor man was having paranoia as he tried his best to approach you and tell you about this as fast as you can. he forces himself into his subordinates’ vicinity so that they can remember about soobin. his hoarding of the money for the ingredients is his pirating tendency going on. but after that incident at the locker room, he might not even be sane with your layoff—wanting to get rid of you for his and his crews’ safety.” you sounded, rambling about the information as if you witness it yourself—maybe you did and that’s why you can articulate it so well.

“some foul play might also happen that even make you more dependent on pan. i would guess that he even convinced the two owners to let his rotational shifts be with you most of the time.” you continued as your mind runs in hyper-speed, connecting the dots one by one.

you breathe heavily, head in your hands as you try to soothe yourself as best as you can. but it’s not working. doubt always comes in like someone spying on you and you rid yourself of the mirror.

“what should i do?” you ramble on and on the same words, walking out of your room as your legs buckle and make you fall on the dead plants. your emotions are overwhelming you so much that it pains your body.

your body curling into a fetal position is natural for you. you let your tears wet the dead floras that you let down. breathing becomes hard as you hug yourself, regretting everything about the life you had now. the moth crawls on your figure as you heard yourself mutter sweet words to encourage you.

what should i do?

what should i do?

you sensed another thing on your skin as you open your eyes to stare at the hand in front of you, laying on the bed of leaves. you see a monarch butterfly moving about on top of your hand. one that exudes such a familiar aura as you can’t help but to greet it.

“grandma…” you muttered. it turns to face you.

“let us help, darling.” you heard the familiar timbre echoes to you.

more shadows of winged insects enters your balcony as they all land on you. yet, you don’t feel ticklish, you embrace them. they open their wings to protect you like a shield, covering your body from danger, temperature-wise or maybe physical danger.

as more of the lepidopterans rested on your body, more information came to mind. a highway of them built up as quickly as it can as you gather the information in your brain and process it as fast as you can. you couldn’t articulate each and every one of them but a few through lines were made: how everyone in this city is a reincarnation of every being on the island. sirens, fairies, and other beings you aren’t close with back on the island, even if you push yourself to before they pushed back. you find the fact more reliable as more moths gathered and introduce yourself to your network of information. most of them were the beings in the previous lives on the island. their apologies reverberate in your mind, them not being there with you.

“pan said awful things about you that we can’t help but believe. now we know we were wrong. he was trying to make us stay away to keep you all to himself.”

they all rested on your figure as you sense something wrapping around your forefinger. your eyes glance down as you see glowing green shining from beneath, repairing the dead plants as they move to wrap you around and even grow flowers for the insects to help, spreading life and information.

you are connected with both of them.

“how can we help?” you heard you ask, the garden tiger moth hover near your face as your antennae moves to capture what you were going to talk about.

“if what the moths said are true, that all of the people here are reincarnated from neverland too. we will deliver them a message. the truth. stealthily.” you sounded as resolute as ever, a tear falling from the corner of your eyes and landed on the plants that are healing themselves.

your antennae move as it receives your command. the critters and the plants now joining under your command as they surround you like a cocoon—finishing your metamorphosis.

-

for about two months, you dwell on your task to deliver the people of the city a message. the truth about their existence and the cause of the world they live in. butterflies and moths work in tandem to uncover the memories suppressed by the brain and the force that also holds you back. and every time you succeed, the plant life will overgrow and tackle the glass and/or concrete walls.

acting on intuition is becoming such a normality for you ever since everything changed, especially when it comes to your matured abilities. knowledge is coursing through your brain from the pieces of information you get, sending them to your plants to store and sort. getting even stronger with every overgrown plant that has grown because of people knowing the truth.

you play soobin well for someone that has been untruthful about your well-being in the past few months now, decorating his apartment unit better with a few trinkets that remind you of him and neverland. all of that is to not let him sniff the stronger flower scent exuding from you, the flower scent that might have been with you all this but elevated as your influence grew stronger.

waking up late at night is now a habit of yours. you crawl away from soobin’s arms and greeted the lamp-lit living area before you go to the balcony. you used to only gaze at the nightlife that is happening but now; you let your arm out across the barrier. the time to wait doesn’t take as long as when you started when an eclipse of moths gather and land on the length of your arm. the overflowing news makes you close your eyes. they dash behind the lids: gathering all the information that benefits you before you send them out once again. the prickling sense on your skin still lingers as you return to soobin’s sleepy figure in your shared bed.

“can’t sleep?” someone asked, startling you. you find the boy you were thinking of sitting up against the bed’s headboard, his blond hair in disarray. even from the entrance of the bedroom, you can see him squinting his eyes. goosebumps unconsciously form on your skin.

“ah, yeah… i went to get a drink.” you blatantly as you stepped closer, gnawing the inside of your cheek as you approach him. he didn’t greet you with his usual small smile before you practically kneel on the mattress as you crawl closer. he grabs your body into his, something so natural to him. a searing kiss follows as you reciprocate the best you can, feeling his tongue trying to push in between your lips as you reciprocate. soobin leans away as you breathe heavily before he sniffs the crook of your neck—the hickey he gave you just hours ago is still burning your skin.

“you smell like a bouquet of flowers more and more,” he mumbles. you can’t help but rub his blond hair, giving a hum as he continues to sniff your accented scent. yet your gaze tells otherwise. if one can see, they recognized that worrisome is growing in you.

even though you are trying your best to not question the changes in things that occurred and settle into your “new life” that is nagging you, you’re worried that soobin seems to figure something out. a day could pass and a new piece of information can change your standing. soobin might be glad you’re not as curious as you were back in your previous life, but you exchanged it with how meticulous you are now.

why does this bother you? that’s because soobin never wakes up while you’re awake to receive your messages and each time that has passed, he is getting more aware—exceptionally faster than the first month of operation. you can figure it out with how tight he holds you more and more, then how much he marks you as his on any occasion he can, even in visible areas so people could know you are his. the ring of messages is approaching the campus area you lived in and his awareness seems to get more explicit every minute.

but didn’t you like it that he holds you like his world? should you?

you rub his blond hair as he drops on the mattress along with you. his hands wrapping and pushing your torso to his so it stays close. you felt him nibble on the skin of your neck, which makes you let out a breathy moan before he murmured.

“wake me up if you’re gonna leave the bed. i don’t want to be left alone.”

your vision stares at the sunken pillow as you slip away from him before giving him a long kiss. his lips linger on yours as you give a small hum before resting your head on his chest. shifting your head to the side, you couldn’t hold back the guilt and disgust showing in your facial expression.

with your ability to know everything, you, the plants, and the lepidopterans work together to gather intel whilst you gave out the message. and as the edge of the city is successfully influenced in one try—letting the plants grow and fight the city itself. but as it comes closer to the campus area and your tower, the stronger the force to make them not remember is going, making you have to do more than one visit to each person. and you hated that it could let your critters get damaged, how you can even sense the minuscule pain from them just because they got slapped away for being too close.

after waking up from the cocoon, you felt more potent than ever when you see the chlorophyll green trails along the beds of your fingertips before arriving at your knuckles as you use more and more of your ability. the flower scent coming from you is getting more prominent in every iteration of new information, new messages successfully carried, and new buildings occupied under your supervision of spreading plants.

every time the whole five of them left the tower to do what they were doing—classes, their shift at the bar, et cetera; you returned to your sanctuary and only your sanctuary. you changed your passcode to something only you know. opening the door, you are greeted by the growing vine that is a few meters away from your door, a glow of green running about like ocean waves that illuminate your living area. your home became so lush that it inspired you to draw them in your notebook. the plants instead elevate your pieces of furniture so that it gives out a new aesthetic. and every time you return, you immediately rid yourself of the dirt-covered clothes so the others couldn’t suspect you of returning to your apartment, especially because of soobin’s biased opinion on what you can and can’t do that still makes your fist clenched.

you let your head rest on soobin’s chest as you can hear his heart thumping beneath you in a steady beat. calming you as you close your eyes, receiving many signals from the spreading insects and plants that help spread your message: to make them think intuitively and to make them remember the neverland island.

receiving so much news about people thanking you is overwhelming, to say the least. hearing their call of missing neverland and who they were made a bubble inflating inside you about how they could have just lived their lives without pan intermingling them into his wishes. how he took their lives away from them just so he has you back again. you thought the overgrown plants will receive complaints from around the city, but with your now-connected hive mind, you realize just how much they missed the greenery and the whole atmosphere of the island. because they aren’t weird, they are part of your lives.

you kiss soobin’s pouty lips goodbye as you see the others waving with their hands holding their various styles of bags before all of them step into the elevator to do their days full of classes and work around noon. as you heard the moving machinery carrying them down the tower, your smile falters as you paced to your apartment and press in your new passcode.

the glowing greenery decorates the entire apartment as you stepped inside, seeing the flowers and vines growing around with butterflies and moths resting on them as they turn to greet you in their own way. you pull off your slippers as you strode onto the bed of leaves that formed in your home, letting the plants welcome you as you let your refreshed energy transfer to them. your eyes transfixed on the large wall behind your couch full of vines bordering its side and smaller stems connecting in the middle of a large open patch. the plants illustrate an intricate map of the city, the vines growing slowly as your messages continue to be successfully sent from the edge to the center of the map: where you reside. where the resistance is the strongest.

the patch is slowly getting covered as you can identify the recognizable layout of the campus area. a small flower pinpoints the epicenter of the influence before it’s complete. you observed the vines approaching the block where the neverland pub stands, only in a few hours that their occupants will understand the truth.

kaleidoscopes of butterflies and eclipses of moths gather under your unspoken command before flying away to deliver your message, to make them remember who they are in the past and what their guardian did for the sake of himself. more of them left and come back to aid in your revenge as you isolate yourself for hours n a meditative state as the sun passes the threshold of the afternoon approaching sundown. very different from the isolation that soobin gave you. you’re more alive.

your bedroom is mostly left untouched by the growing vines as you walked inside it, replacing soobin’s clothes he told you to wear with your own overalls and a shirt that is grandma’s hand-me-down. you felt more like yourself with it, but you don’t know if you are yourself given the consequences of who you are. you aren’t the innocent (y/n) that first arrived at the city, but you are not the (y/n) that the lost children are trying to portray. the new isolated adventure you have indulged in has created a new you, resilient and intelligent.

however, when you spot the music box soobin gave you on your desk, your foundation makes new cracks. what will happen to him after all of this? you still care for him but you learned that by doing this, you might indulge his dangerous self more and more. his childish, possessive self that claims you like a toy in his possession. pan has good in him when he volunteers to be the island’s protector, but he should know that nothing lasts forever in reality.

maybe this detour adventure of yours will let him and you see who both of you truly are.

you picked up the music box and open it to see the recognizable siren song playing in an orgel-like style. the melody and harmony twinkle into your ears. you hold the music box and place it on the dining table as you look at the boulder with the siren spinning. your thoughts return to that incident by the beach where pan and the lost boys helped naïve you to fight the siren song. soobin’s eyes spoke so many things as the influence died down, but only now could you recognize an underlying rage in it. maybe he had that rage since he was a child, and that is why he can’t fully let go of his childhood.

your phone that is tucked in your pant pocket rumbles against your thigh. your eyes gaze at the open balcony door to watch another group of critters enters and exit from the sanctuary. pulling it out as you pushed the melody of the orgel away, you glance at the screen to find the name you didn’t expect. kook.

“hello?” you answer the call, eyes glancing sideways as one moth landed on your hand.

“(y/n), i’m sorry for laying you off. i-“ you heard the men sigh. “i’m sorry to worry you that much and for the papers.”

the moth confirmed what your suspicion is. “we have got through captain jeon.”

“thank you for making me remember.” he lingers on his last words a second too much before the line is cut. your eyebrows creased when you gently drop your phone onto the table beside the music box. you see the vines climbing up the table’s feet and intertwining with both of the items. your head turns towards the wall when you detect the greenery has reached where the campus is, already covering the location of the pub as it crawls faster towards where you are.

you should be glad, but his lingering worries you.

the end is near for your two-month journey of establishing the truth. the plants grow from your might as your worries making them glow in the early evening. your skin has an underlying tint of green that is climbing up to your elbows in the shining sun that is sinking. the strength to push is tiring. but you want to say that all of them deserve to rest knowing the unjustness they’ve faced, including yours.

you move to rest your hand against the fence that separates you from the outside, gazing at your doing that you can detect only a few meters away, approaching the tower you live in. greenery stands out from the grey concrete as the sky becomes darker, sun shining on them giving out a trim highlights to the dull buildings. some plants travel slowly but some are fast—some even make the already available grass patches more lush as you see from the campus yard from where you stand. yet nobody questioned it as you watch small specks of shadows flying about, landing on one person before flying away. you assure them through the critters that it is normal, they’ve seen it neverland. that they should be grateful for nature because, without it, a species might not survive.

but doubts come back once again—ethically. is what you’re doing too much?

you have let revenge and justice push you to act against what soobin has done to you and you let the world pay for it. the world he made so you could be together. so what if you destroy it? destroy him? just one shot and you can make it, but will finishing this take away your humanity too?

you didn’t pick up the frantic footsteps outside of your apartment before you heard the beeps from the incorrect passcodes entered. exhaling your breath as the green light radiates more of the room each second, you turn towards the small monitor that list up when you heard bangs on the door.

“darling!” you recognized the familiar tone muffled with the door. glancing at the monitor, the blond hair peeks from beneath the screen as he is getting more and more desperate, trying to break the door away if he could. beeps replacing the sound of air as you stare at the door with an empty face, approaching it with the hint of green still left on your forearms.

with a small click of the door and a small gap between you and him, soobin pushes and immediately captures you in his arms. the casual street-style black outfit he wears for class today is in shambles as he cups your face. you were met with a frantic, noisy face full of many emotions where you could identify two that stood out. rage and panic.

“(y/n), darling,” he calls as you remain in your blank expression, pushing your emotions elsewhere to your plants and influence so they could grow even under these circumstances. but even deep inside you, you’re trembling—one slight change and you can break down in his arms once again. your heart is beating under your skin as you push with your might. you felt one vine travel up your overalls and wrapped around your finger when your body suddenly moves from soobin’s hold as he pushes you behind him.

the sound of a rip cut through the vast air in the room as you caught a silver of his expression change from the boy before you were being pushed back. your expression instantly changes when you see him brandishing the swiss army knife he had to cut the growing vines that are closing to both of you when before he cuts them off in a swift motion, hurting you too. you hold on from groaning in pain as you listened to the ripping sounds and hurting voices within you, pushing yourself up to watch soobin cuts the sentient plants more and more. hands wrapped around his front, you hold him back with your strength as best as you can. yet, he didn’t stop even if you might claw his skin off.

“let me go! let me fucking go! they’re influencing you, darling!” soobin screams as you put all your weight to the floor to stop him from moving, wincing in pain as he gets a few slashes on them because of his long and unrestrained limbs.

“these plants deserve me more than you.” you spit out as he continues to try to move even under your grasp. looking away to focus on holding to him, you didn’t see soobin pulling something out of his pant pockets when you hear the sound of a click. a familiar click.

“i knew i should have burned these plants when i helped you move them here.” eyes widen from his doing, you watch the lit lighter dropped onto the bed of leaves in front of both of you as they ignite—combining the few dried materials along with your flammable apartment parts. you could feel them aching from within you. the moths and butterflies are flying to get to you, but they’re caught by the fire and its crackle that flew as it spreads.

your eyes glance at your fallen friends as you let go of soobin, pushing him away as you stare at your work all being demised. the walls started to burn as you can’t bear the pain, making your legs buckle under you as you rested on the patch that are unlit. you still sense the slashes from the pocket knife as an underlying pain, seeing soobin doing so—the cold demeanor returning to him with an expression of satisfaction.

“STOP IT! YOU’RE HURTING ME!” you yelled, curling your head into your hands. peeking between your fingers, you see soobin pausing his movement before turning around, approaching you with his hand tight around the handle of the knife.

“you should’ve never gone back here. i told you so.” his timbre is unrecognizable.

“and for what? punishing me? stopping me to know the truth about us? about you?” you shouted back as you lift your head and stare at him. the heat of the fire is surrounding both of you as you see the vines turning into ashes, reaching for you so that they could stay alive.

“you sacrifice everything back in neverland to have me back and yet you didn’t tell me the whole truth about what you’re doing on that ship. how could you?” you shake your head as you felt sorry for how he manipulates your thoughts about captain jeon from his recalling. how he also manipulates your perception of kook in this life.

“you could’ve just brought me back to let me meet my parents-“

“they won’t fucking believe you’re alive after you went missing for months, darling.” your breath hitches as he kneels to get closer to you. “you’re mine. no one deserves you more than me. and if i brought you back, they’re gonna claim you back.”

“because they are my family, soob-“

“and if they did so, you’re not going back to me. i know it,” he continued. his jaw is tight as he tilts his head. his eyes pierce into your trembling soul. “i rather ignore your wish instead so you’ll stay with me.”

“you’re fucking cruel. fucking selfish,” you spoke behind your gritted teeth. one stem seems to crawl out to you as you place your palm on them, trying your best to heal them. but it was too late as you felt the life dispersing from it, because of the fire that spreads too fast.

“i’ll do anything to get you to submit to me. that also means hurting you. those plant powers of yours shouldn’t work to fight against me. they are neverland‘s powers, to begin with.”

you almost wanted to believe him where your mind is scrambling to find the right words to say against that. that’s when you remember a memory of yourself in your past life, long before meeting pan and him taking you to neverland.

you miss seeing stains on your dress from playing at the park where fancy-looking people also enjoy themselves, trailing down a path full of beds of flowers as you grazed your fingertips against their petals, feeling them coil to the touch. how only on this island that you can touch them again and they reciprocate by wrapping their petals around your fingertips; missing you, as if they learn about you from the plants you sightsee back home.

no. the gift you have isn’t neverland-owned unlike pan’s. yours were there in the first place. even in another life, you still have it. your grandma has the same gift as well. you being in neverland only enhanced it. pushing it more than your capability. maybe there were people like you who has those gifts too, on the island or not.

at the realization of that, you sensed something bloom inside you. it tickles you as you see the familiar green glow exuding in your veins before collecting in your palm. you push it against the floor as it is lit with a dim green glow beneath the orange flame. your energy being transferred one last time to get the grasp of the plants that are hurting to help you. to sprout who you can feel is still alive somewhere in this room. to the butterflies and moths who are there to deliver your message. the souls inside them, your ancestors, the reincarnations, and your old self.

you let out an exasperated laugh, “yet you didn’t count for this, huh?”

pushing yourself up, you stumble on the patch as the fire steps closer to your skin. rising above the flame, balls of fire also float out of the surrounding fire. their flames dispersed and you finally saw the small bodies of the butterflies and moths that were with you in this room. the wings replace with flames as you command them to go away from your apartment and spread the message. more passionate than ever while you face the being that causes this world and city to appear.

“that is impossible,” he muttered under his breath before seeing you let out an unnatural smirk. dark green shade blends in with the skin on your arm.

you replied, “nothing is impossible in this world you made. pan.”

your clothes were burnt on the edges as the plants create a path for him to come close, reminiscent of the bubble wrapping that litters the floor on your first day here.. the charcoal-colored vines pull him in as you stand face to face. you would gladly beat him, but punching isn’t your best skill as you remembered back from training with him on the shore of the island.

“i should be like the darling in the fairytale book about us. leaving neverland to grow up, letting you stay as their guardian. now you brought me here to this fucking hell hole to be with you. you who-“ your voice is strained as you let out all the pent-up rambles that have travelled inside your mind for months.

“you who don’t even respect me for who i am.” you pursed your lips and shake your head.

“i was protecting you. your family aren’t as different as mine back in that life. i have to live with them again twice before i push myself to lash out and get my inheritance from them early. you know what they are like. and even if i brought you back to them, do you believe they care?” soobin argues back when you caught a small implication between him and his parents that made you angrier, shaking your head in disbelief.

“you didn’t even fucking see the small sentence written on that poster. they do in that life. in this life, they also do. grandma does and always will care for me even until her last breath. and if you say what you’re doing is caring for me. you’re fucking wrong!” you shouted, clenching your fist as you hold on. your head is swaying because of how much you are exerting, but you drive forward.

“nothing in this world is black and white, darling. look at what you’ve done. and you didn’t even stop it.” soobin opens his arms as you gaze around. the flame that was only burning the room now ignites the ceiling and your floor—hurting the tenants above and below you who aren’t supposed to be involved. your vision lands on the building across from you. the building that is full of plants make holes in the wall as you see leaning because of the lack of foundation. because of your influence to let them recognize that nature will beat concrete and it endangers the people in them.

“i’m doing this so i can have a chance with you once again. you know you want to when you asked me the exact thing on the island.” soobin approaches you as you turn around to face him. his countenance mirrors yours, who has tears running down your cheek.

“you promise me an adventure in our previous life.” you swallow your breath and stabilize yourself as best as you can. “yet you kept me like an animal in a zoo. you kept me in this beautiful paradise of a cage and limit me from anyone.” your glare spears through to his barrier. yet he throws his face away and scoffed.

“then stop spreading the plants to make it better. you’re hurting people.”

“you hurt ME.” you pointed your finger to your chest as you stepped forward. “and you hurt them too when you sacrifice them to get me back.” you rubbed your hands against your hair, wanting to rip them off your scalp.

“these plants and my ability to connect with them help me stay sane back on the island. the same thing is happening now.” you step back to fully look at him as you continue. “i know that every person in the city is related to neverland. every siren and mermaid i never met. every fairy and magical being on that island that loathed me under your manipulation so i could stay with you. with what i’m doing, i’m telling them the truth, soobin.”

tilting your head, you sniff away your runny nose and let the tears streak down your skin. the flame produces the burnt smell you recognize. pan stood in front of a fire that frames him and it could be interpreted in two ways: the bad guy trying to keep things wrong or the good guy trying to make things “right”. and you are conflicted because of that.

you understood, deep down, you might be a lost cause. even with all the effort that you do to do justice for the people in the city—even jaemin, chaewon, suhyeon, and jihoon who are under his command—, you don’t know if you could find justice for yourself. because soobin has a special place in your heart.

he was the boy that found you at your lowest and helps you build yourself up. he was the same boy that keeps you safe with the adventures you, him, and the lost boys had. he was the most explicit person to show you how much he cared for you. without him and his selfishness, he might not give you and him a second chance. you might not meet your grandma without that second chance. you might not have these grand adventures with the lost children without it. and like what grandma reminded you: life is an adventure, no matter how planned or unplanned it is.

and you knew you only had one choice to end this. the one way that you and pan, the catalysts of all of this, will be satisfied; even if he’ll like it or not. besides, if he could be selfish, you could too, right?

your face held a stern expression of resolute, a mixture of emotions sprinkle in them to help you more. putting your foot carefully one after the other, your body is now inches away from touching his, eyes gazing at his who is frantically looking all over your face. trying to read the complicated message you’re letting out.

“if you want me to stop this.” you nip your bottom lip, hesitating to continue as the stake of what you’re doing. yet you pushed forward.

“if you do love me, let me go. let yourself go.” you reach for his right wrist and wrapped it with your hand.

“without the powers. without the memories. just you and me. let’s start over.” his previous gaze at you becomes large, facing you who has a determined expression.

“grow up, soobin.”

you pull his right wrist and rise it up before plunging the pocket knife into your chest. the pain you’re feeling is familiar to your body, because of what you get from the previous life and the aching your heart felt with every revelation. yet, the pain helps you subside everything as you can see the blooming maroon color coming from your chest.

soobin frantically tries to hold your limping body with his free hand as comfortably as he can. your grasp on the knife’s handle didn’t let go as you pull it out of your chest before pushing it into soobin’s. both of you taking part in killing one another.

you expected to see a look of disgust when he grimaced at the pain, but a smile formed on his face. his eyes shine with the light of the flame reflecting it. you also followed with your own smile as you stare at the red handle of the knife that shines along with the flames mirroring light. soobin’s eyes stare at you with his signature eye smile. you glance at the darker patch on his black t-shirt and the tool that causes it.

“i always knew that it was my pocket knife. no wonder i never found it here,” you mumbled as you and soobin buckled and landed on the floor, hands holding onto each other. he’s still strong enough to let out a chuckle.

“i was trying to-“ he cleared his throat, “to not let this happen again. yet here we are.”

“here we are indeed,” you reply. under the crackling of the flame, you didn’t hear the banging door of your apartment as you recognize the sound of your friends behind it. it’s admirable for them to still come and try to get you out even in this burning building. but with a look exchange between you and soobin, you know both of you won’t survive this.

soobin moves his hand and pushes your body to his, embracing you for the last. your blood staining his shirt along with his blood on yours. your eyes stare one last time at the burning plants around you as you see a familiar silhouette of sprout, its petals burning as it lets you carry on.

“i’ll see you on the other side, pan,” you mumbled to his ear, letting the flame consume both of you as you almost didn’t catch his whisper.

“see you on the other side, darling.”

-

the stumbling of the floor comes to a slow and fading halt. the scenery behind the vertical glass stops. the people inside the small space stand up and grab their stuff from shelves hanging from the ceiling. any time they take a step, the floor sways. they’re heading the same way: to the exit.

you step out onto a smaller train station from where you left as you embrace the air of the town. the suitcase you drag has a duffel bag on top of it while you sling another carry-on in one arm and a backpack on your behind. all you need to do is contact the number you kept.

you did so as you walked around the abundance of people that also step out from the same train as yours. all of them forming a line that you follow to the exit. putting your phone by your ear, you heard the beeps as your call is going through the noisy invisible waves. eyes open wide as you try to see the person you’re calling.

when you step outside, you caught someone calling your name. you couldn’t help to let the smile out as you face them.

“mr. jung!” you exclaimed, trailing away to the man as he comes and wraps his arms around you as best as he could with the luggage you carry. letting you go, he helped you carry pieces of your luggage into the boot of his van.

it trails down the road as you glance at the town you left after grandma passed away. but you always knew you returned here. that’s how much you miss her.

“how’s your detour in the city?” mr. jung asked you as your eyes stare out of the window.

“it was eventful, to say the least. i spread my wings like what grandma asked me to.” you heard him chuckle as he drops something on your lap. it glimmer under the sunshine when you take a peek.

“you were lucky there is one more condo empty when you needed my help. i knew your grandma would want you to live in a smaller residence rather than her house. she wanted life to be easier for you.” mr. jung speaks as you picked up the item, examining the key to your new home. you were glad the inheritance was enough, and you learned that you have to search for a job soon. mr. jung said that there is a new flower shop in the downtown area, maybe you could try applying there.

stepping out of the van, you were met with a five-story building as the older man helps you put down your luggage beside you. your eyes admire the clean building as you stare at the window of one condo on the third floor. the condo you can call yours.

the rumbling of the van fades away as you remember mr. jung has to pick up one of his children from school. your eyes glance at the amount of luggage you have to carry up to the third floor. if only he could stay here longer to help-

“need any help?” you heard a voice calling for you. your eyes followed the source to find a tall boy with a black sweater and jeans, his bag’s strap slung across his chest. you see the black color of his hair root under the bleached ones. he must have bleached it so much that it looks dry and burnt. but you are glad to see him embracing his natural hair color back instead of bleaching it.

“you must be the new tenant,” he announced, pushing his palm towards you. an invitation for you to shake.

“i am. my name is (y/n). and that would be so helpful- uh...” you reply and shake his hand. feeling something electric cruising between the two of you as you tried to guess his name.

“soobin. it’s soobin. you’re my next-door neighbor.” he replied, his gaze landing on yours longer than you expected with you reciprocating. his face is so familiar, especially with the way he speaks with his eyes.

you let go of his hand as he gestures towards the two pieces he could carry. both of you enter the lobby of your condo as you step into the elevator. your grip on the handle of the suitcase is tight as you sensed the awkwardness exudes between the two of you. that’s when you accidentally take a peek at his open canvas bag to see a few books resting inside.

“you must like your books.” you give a small comment as you heard him chuckle.

“the perks of working in a bookstore, i guess,” he replied as you heard the ding of the elevator when its doors opened. your eyes landed on the boxes put outside of the door that you could recognize must be yours. soobin puts down the luggage near your feet before he straightens his body. that is when you notice that there is a tower of open empty boxes at the door across from yours.

“you also just moved in?”

“yeah. two weeks ago and i settle in pretty fast,” soobin replies, his body swaying as he gives a shy look at you.

“how- how about you? where did you come from?” he returned, curiosity evident in his voice.

“i’ve been this town citizen for most of my life. but i tried going to the city for a detour of some sort,” you replied whilst a chuckle left your lips.

“what city, to be exact?”

when you thought about the city, your memories get blurry as you can only remember a few striking images of the city.

“it’s a city that is so lush, full of overgrown. it doesn’t look like a city, to be honest, it looks like-“

“a forest.” soobin cuts you with the exact word you’re going to let out next. meeting his eyes, you see a look of recognition in him as he does as well to you before it fades away.

“i came from that city too. i guess i knew it was my time to leave and say farewell to it.” soobin replied, a smile showing on his face as you see the dimples forming from it.

“yeah, me too,” you answered as you exude the same smile.

even with both of your blurry memories of said city, it is real.

somewhere deep between tree covering, lies an abandoned city. the concrete towers have crumbled down to its foundation as it lets plants grow on it. creating a dichotomy of grays meeting greens that looks menacing, yet fascinating.

neverland.

taglist: @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @stayzentiny @rebsmoonn @boba-beom @angelbythewindow @ttyunz @izzyexe @serendipityjaemin @elavin

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2023. all rights reserved

[paddockletters]

back to us | franco colapinto

summary: you’re franco’s ex, but the two of you remain surprisingly close friends but when fans spot you together at events and in each other’s stories, they start speculating whether you’re back together. author's note: prob i'm gonna do a 'tag list', do you want to be on it?

oneofyourfriends

liked by francocolapinto and 9,872 others

tagged: francocolapinto, yourusername and 6 others

oneofyourfriends: Time flies when you're with the best people

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user11: WAIT. I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS. are they back together or what? I NEED ANSWERS💀

user2: is this a subtle confirmation or are they just really good at making us question everything?

user3: Franco and Y/N, I swear if you two are playing with our hearts again, im done

user4: this is the most ‘we’re in love but won’t admit it’ pic I’ve ever seen. can someone just give us the tea already?

user5: WAIT WAIT WAIT. I was literally just talking about them a week ago. are we getting an announcement soon?? 👀

user6: this picture screams ‘we’re secretly in love but just messing with y’all for fun’ energy 😏

user7: hold on, i know I'm not the only one who’s just realized they might be together again after all this time 😳

user8: they've been lowkey giving us these vibes for a while now, I knew it! 🫣💘

user9: not them teasing us, just admit it already!

f1gossipdaily

liked by francolapinto, yourusername and 8,852 others

f1gossipdaily: 🚨 SPOTTED: Franco Colapinto leaving a fancy dinner spot in Buenos Aires with a mistery girl... maybe his long-term ex, Y/N 👀 Thoughts? Drop them below!

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user1: FRANCO AND Y/N??? I’M SCREAMING. Are we back in 2020 or what?! 😭🔥

user2: that’s not just a friendly dinner. look at the way he’s smiling at her. IT’S LOVE 🥹💘

user3: plot twist: they never stopped dating and have been clowning us this whole time 🤡

user4: Franco and Y/N liked this post… yeah, they’re up to SOMETHING 👀

user5: imagine being THIS iconic that the entire internet loses it over a dinner. Y/N supremacy

user6: not me already planning their wedding even though we don’t know what’s going on

user7: i bet they were just talking about how to break the internet again

user8: Franco and Y/N liked this post?? THEY KNOW WHAT THEY’RE DOING

user9: they’re feeding us crumbs, and we’re still feral

user10: wait… what if they were on a DATE?! someone investigate asap!!!!

user11: they are like ‘we’re definitely back together but in denial’ 😭

yourusername

liked by francolapinto and 73,471 others

yourusername: A little bit of everything lately

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user1: I swear, the dog looks like a puppy version of the one Franco had weeks ago... 👀

user2: WAIT. Is that the same dog that was in Franco’s photo a few weeks ago???

user4: the dog’s adorable, but the wine glasses? 🧐

friend1: that puppy is seriously the cutest thing ever, i’m obsessed! 💗💗

user5: that dog is CUTEEE but I’m too distracted by the wine glasses. ARE YOU AND FRANCO BACK TOGETHER OR WHAT?! 😭

user6: i'm just here for the dog. I need details about the second glass though 🤔

francolapinto: 🐶💓

❤️ liked by the author

user8: Franco really out here in the comments…

user9: WAIT A MINUTE, are you back together???

user10: just stop playing with us, i'm begging you! 😭

user11:I’m sorry, but the fact that Franco commented has me DEAD 💀 I need answers!!

user12: just admit it, Y/N. The other glass is for Francooooo

lando: when’s the dog playdate? Asking for a friend🐾👀

❤️ liked by the author user13: ariana, what are you doing here??? user14: that friends is franco, right? RIGHT??? user15: wait, did Lando just say THAT?? 👀 user16: lando, stop it. are you throwing some shade at Franco or just being a good friend? user17: this is a mess. now I’m even more confused. Y/N and Lando? Y/N and Franco? Someone help me out 😭

[missqhughes]

ON THE RECORD | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn hughes x fem!reader

-> contains: dom!quinn, unprotected pnv, m!oral receiving filming sex, physical fighting, bruises and blood, sexual acts and themes, exgf!reader x vince dunn

-> IN WHICH: it’s the first canucks vs. krakens game of the season; and for quinn, this time it’s personal. when y/n’s ex has some words to say about their relationship, he shows both of them exactly who she belongs to.

-> locked in to this fic so hard bc i haven’t written in forever, so i finished writing it in the shower BUT NOT LIKE THAT I PROMISE. also there’s 100% discrepancies in real game play vs in this but please bare with me for the plot. (hope you love it as much as i do!)

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

y/n was never nervous for a game.

but nothing could take away the ache she had leading up to this one.

it had been a while since her and quinn started dating, and he had it out for her ex since she told him all the horrible things he did to her; cheating, lying, hooking up with multiple women during the season, making a fool out of her publicly. however, she begged quinn not to start something; let bygones be bygones and leave it be, arguing how she left it all behind her. he agreed, knowing he didn’t want any bad press on himself; as captain and as someone the media knew wasn’t a fighter in the league.

y/n sat with her friend in the suite , fiddling with the sleeves of quinn’s jersey, eyes following where he was skating; he looked calm, focused, attentive to warm ups.

“dude, you need to calm down,” her friend laughed, noticing her obvious stress, “nothing is going to happen between them, i promise.”

y/n looked at her friend, “i know, i know. it’s just… quinn hates him. i know vince, and i know he can’t help himself from a fight. i’m just worried.”

“think quinn can’t handle himself?”

“no i know he can, i don’t want him risking getting hurt over something as stupid as a fight,” she retorted, gaze still fixed on the ice, “especially with vince.”

“i think you’re being dramatic,” her friend chuckled, taking a sip of her cold beer, “it’s just another game, no big deal.”

y/n sighed, shoulders relaxing a bit, allowing her friend’s reassurance to ease the tension in her body, “yeah, you’re right. just another game,” she said, cheering her cup with hers.

——————————————————————————

CANUCKS 3 - KRAKEN 2 / 3RD PERIOD

quinn was good at keeping his cool.

he had to, after all.

he ignored the glares from vince, his attempt at intimidation lingering through the entire game.

they didn’t come close in contact, until during a time out, quinn heard a voice call out at him,

“y/n here tonight? bet she came just for me,” vince chirped, a sinister, smug look on his face as he skated past him.

quinn stayed stone faced.

further into the final period of the game, he felt a body slam into his, nearly losing his balance and almost falling into the boards,

the whistle blew, and quinn was met yet again with vince’s hubristic stance,

“saw you’re with her now, how’s that goin for you? bet i come up a lot,”

vince spat, quinn skating closer to him, his temper beginning to spark in his body,

“get over it bud. she’s done with you.” quinn said calmly, the other players around the ice not aware of the situation brewing beside them.

“look hughes, you’re not special,”

with each word, the kraken gets closer and closer to quinn, puffing his chest and spewing hate, the hands in his gloves in the beginning of curling into fists,

“it was just you to get over me,”

quinn’s jaw tightened,

vince laughed bitterly, “she’s a slut, you tonight someone else tom-”

vince couldn’t even finish his sentence before quinn shoved him hard, both their gloves dropped as they fought, quinn bringing him down to the ice, delivering blow after blow to his face.

it all happened so fast, y/n heard the pounding on the glass, cheering on a fight, and feeling her stomach twist when she saw 43.

oh god.

none of the refs were able to get quinn off of him alone, his fists not stopping until they were bruised and bloody, matching the wounds on vince’s face.

quinn was panting with anger, face tinted crimson, a light bruise forming on his cheekbone where vince had landed a punch. he couldn’t feel the near splits in his knuckle, too riled with adrenaline to feel anything but rage.

——————————————————————————

fortunately enough, the canucks ended the game with a win, but that didn’t change how fired up y/n knew quinn was going to be when she saw him.

she was allowed to be in the locker room during post game interviews, and she watched nervously as interviewers swarmed and crowded quinn, bombarding him with questions.

he was asked about the fight, detail, if vince had said anything to set him off, the why as a captain, he would start something on the ice.

quinn’s expression remained nothing short of blank, refusing to answer any questions regarding it, pursing his lower lip, “nothing to say about that. keep it about hockey and that’s it.”

after post game reports had finished, y/n waited outside by the doors for quinn to come out.

she didn’t know how he was going to be when he came out, pacing with worry about what the media would twist this game in to.

y/n heard the heavy doors click open, quinn in a lazy rendition of his suit, walking over to her; the bruise on his cheek deeper in color than when she initially saw.

“hey baby,” she said softly, opening her arms for quinn to embrace without hesitation.

“hey,” he replied, tightening their hug before pulling away, “cmon, we need to go home.”

quinn didn’t give y/n a chance to respond when he hooked his hand into hers, leading her to his dark tinted car in the lot.

y/n slid into the passenger seat while quinn loaded his gear into the trunk, she looked out the window until the driver’s side door clicked shut.

she looked over at quinn, an unreadable look on his face; he said nothing, instead putting the car in drive to go back to their shared apartment.

the drive home was silent.

the only sound being the hum of the car engine and their steady breaths. quinn always had his hand on her leg when he drove, but this time his hand was a little higher, his grip a little tighter, all whilst he kept his gaze fixed on the road. y/n’s breath would hitch ever so slightly when his fingers kneaded into her skin.

——————————————————————————

quinn was still quiet even after getting home.

frustrated, y/n spoke out, “quinn, what did vince say to you?” she said with a sigh,

“shit about me. about you. us.” he mumbled, taking off his suit jacket and undoing the black tie he had on.

“so, that’s reason enough to give me the silent treatment all the way home? you’re acting like that was my fault,”

“i never said it was your fault.”

“you don’t have to! it doesn’t take a lot to know you’re upset,” she retorted,

“y/n,” quinn started, walking over to where she was standing, holding her by the neck when he kissed her roughly, biting her lip when she moaned lightly into his mouth.

he tapped the back y/n’s of legs, and she jumped hooking her legs around his waist without objection.

quinn waltzed them to the bedroom, their kiss nowhere close to cooling off. quinn lightly tossed her on the bed, lips peeling off hers to suck and bite on the exposed skin of her neck.

y/n groaned lightly, beginning to unbutton his collared shirt, when quinn pulled off of her, leaving y/n with furrowed brows.

“quinn, what’s wrong?” she said, propping herself up on her arms, looking up at her boyfriend, confused.

“wait here baby,” he said, leaving the room.

she nodded, and about 15 seconds had passed when quinn returned to the room, his phone in hand with the camera app already opened.

“you want to make a movie huh?” she said, beginning to peel off the jersey that housed quinn’s name.

“only for our number one fan. leave the jersey on,” he said, “but everything else, off. now.”

y/n nodded, slipping down her pants and thong, her pussy already aching with the desire quinn had filled in her.

quinn swiftly undid his belt with one hand, lowering his pants and boxers to leave his hard length exposed.

“c’mere, suck.”

y/n obliged, moving down to her knees to meet quinn at hip length, the phone flash shining brightly in her face when she took the tip of his dick and swirled it around her tongue.

quinn groaned, moving his free hand to pull y/n’s hair into a ponytail with his fist. his breath quickened, y/n taking all of him in, bobbing up and down; quinn’s hips matching her rhythm.

he had almost forgot he was recording her, but when her lashes fluttered up to perfectly view the camera whilst she sucked him, quinn knew he was close to cumming.

quinn groaned louder, fucking y/n’s face, her moans sending vibrations on his dick that pushed him to his release. he pulled out of her mouth right when he was about to cum, y/n sticking her tongue out to collect his release.

god he was loving this.

he stopped the video as she wiped the leftover release from her face, pulling her up for a sloppy hot kiss.

quinn pulled away, the two panting with puffy lips, “bed, ass up, baby. now.” he instructed, reopening his phone for the perfect view.

“yes captain,” y/n said, just ready for whatever quinn had in store for her, her wetness beginning to seep down and stick to her inner thighs, burning for him to touch her.

after hitting record, quinn wasted no time aligning himself with her, pumping in and out a few times before going fully in, his hips meeting her ass, eliciting moans from the two of them.

his pace was rapid and brutal, moving her hair away from her and back into his hands, revealing to the camera the “hughes” jersey she was wearing.

“fuck, quinn! mm, so good— my god, fuck,” y/n moaned, echoing with the sound of their skin slapping against one another, her noises music to quinn’s ears.

he continued to pound hard into her, y/n’s knuckles white from how hard she gripped into the sheets, feeling her stomach tighten, about to reach her high.

quinn felt her pussy tighten around him, knowing she was close, “gonna cum baby? go ahead, cum,” he husked, coming to his second of the night.

she screamed in pleasure, her cunt coating his dick, mixing with his as he filled her up with his release.

quinn pulled out of her slowly, giving time to show the camera a view of her dripping puffy pussy, ending the video with a hard smack on her ass.

y/n yelped, falling into the bed. quinn turned her around, gently kissing her in her dazed state.

“you okay baby?” he asked gently, caressing her face with his thumb,

“mhm, but i think you killed me. i’m exhausted,” she laughed, quinn smiling and bringing his lips down to peck hers, “sorry, want me to go start a shower for us?”

“you know me so well,”

quinn crawled off of her, grabbing his phone before slipping into the bathroom,

he opened instagram, typing in vince’s username into the search bar, itching as he opened their messages tab.

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[winterarmyy]

Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 2.9k++

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.

P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.

It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.

Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.

She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.

Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?

Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.

Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,

"Oh you're back?"

"How's the team?"

"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."

"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."

"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"

But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."

And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.

For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.

And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.

Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.

Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.

Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.

And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.

When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.

For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.

"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.

"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.

"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."

Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.

But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.

Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.

Something is wrong.

Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.

"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."

 "...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"

As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.

His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.

"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.

At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"

But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."

He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"

Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.

What is happening?

Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.

Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.

His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.

The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.

Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.

Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.

Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.

"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.

Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.

Will it work though?

Well, she got to have to try for it work.

She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.

When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.

The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.

However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.

There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.

"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.

But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."

The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."

Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.

But, does she?

Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.

After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.

Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.

His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."

Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.

It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.

The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.

Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.

He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.

This is not Bucky.

She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.

Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.

His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"

Fuck, it feels so good.

"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.

He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.

He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.

He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.

"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."

She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.

This is getting out of hand.

Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.

She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.

This is wrong.

This has to stop.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.

"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.

God, what if he doesn't care?

What if he'll get mad and force it on her?

She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.

"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.

As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.

"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.

Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.

She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.

He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.

It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.

She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.

As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.

But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.

But what if he had something to hold on to?

A hope to look forward to?

A person to protect?

Or a home to go back to?

Would he still be the same monster he had been before?

She have not a slightest clue.

But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.

And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.

Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!

[leclerclov3]

｡･:*˚:✧｡ P1 BABY!!!!!!

masterlist

✰Pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

✰Warning: /

✰Summary: in which the world gets a glimpse the wild celebrations that follow after lando's first win

mclaren

Liked by yourusername and 848,449 others

mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER!

LANDO WINS THE #MIAMIGP!!

view all

yourusername THAT'S MY MANNN 🧡🧡🧡

yourusername I'M SO PROUDDD

user82 OH MY GODDDDD HE DID IT!!

user91 one lost an appendix and won, the other hurt his nose and won something's going on here 🤔

user73 lando nowins became lando norris

user56 LANDO YOU'RE THE ONEEE

user66 ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE!

user45 Lando is the king of Miami !!

user82 he done it

user04 Let's gooooo

landonorris

Liked by yourusername and 2,602,846 others

landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1 🏆 ps. thank you for all the support babe couldn't've done it without you 🧡

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername SO PROUD OF YOU LOVEEE

↳landonorris couldn't of done it without you 🧡

yourusername LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO

*liked by landonorris*

georgerussell63 Congrats mate!!

lewishamilton WELL DONE

fernandoalo_oficial Bravooooo

maxfewtrell So proud brother

oscarpiastri Well done man

user41 Don't break the trophy lando

user77 i have never celebrated a victory as much as today

user48 This Lando Norris win is the plot twist we all needed in the 2024 season

user32 DU DU DU DU LANDO NORRIS

yourusername

liked by landonorris and 81,729 others

yourusername so proud of you love words cannot even express all the emotions i feel right now 🧡 go papaya🏆

tagged: landonorris, mclaren

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landonorris awwww that's so sweet thank you love

↳yourusername you deserve it baby 🧡

oscarpiastri where was my post when i won in japan hmmm 😐

↳landonorris she clearly likes me more then you mate

↳oscarpiastri exuse you she so doesn't

↳landonorris she so does

↳yourusername kids no fighting in my comment section i like you both equally

user819 omg they're so cute

user628 literally the it couple of the paddock

charles_leclerc i was third why wasn't i mentioned y/n 🤨

↳yourusername ups...🤷‍♀️

user28 i just love her relationship with everyone on tge grid

user52 she is the moment

user71 he literally ate and left no crumbs let's go landooooo

user91 so proud of him i might of cried..

mclaren so is this the lart where we say that you cried like a baby or....

↳yourusername admin...watch your back i know who you are..

↳mclaren oh..oh that's not...

yourusername

liked by landonorris and 1,829,910 others

yourusername as you can clearly see we had a fucking blast and onece more i am so proud of you lan you deserved this 🧡🏆

tagged: landonorris, georgerussell63 and 10 others

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landonorris i have a killer headache but at least i don't have and other physical injuries

↳yourusername you were close had i not been there..

↳lewishamilton you're not fooling anyone y/n you were both drunk of your ass and i had to babysit

↳yourusername FALSE FALSE ACCUSATIONS I SAY

carlossainz55 had a blast glad we got to celebrate together

charles_leclerc alex says to not let me drink so much again

↳yourusername next time bring her too we'll get her drunk aswell problem=solved

↳charles_leclerc smarttt

↳alexandrasaintmleux you're both dumb 🤦‍♀️

user28 i love her relationship with the grid

user48 icons all of them

user72 i am so jealous rn

user29 i've never had such intense fomo in my life

｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:

HE WON HE FREAKING WONNNN WOO!!! as you can see i'm very excited so i just had to write something about it i know it's not the best but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless <3

[writtenfangirl]

Madness

I wrote this so long ago and then abandoned it because I didn’t know if the ending was satisfactory or not. I thought it would have a greater plot as well but when I couldn’t find it, I was dissatisfied until I reread it and realized the prose was too good not to publish.

Fluff but also a little bit of angst if you squint hard enough.

In which Benedict Bridgerton finally reveals the truth.

She was beautiful. Too beautiful, if Benedict was being perfectly honest with himself. Not the kind of beauty that had him picking up a paint brush and painstakingly striking an easel with lovely swirls of color but the kind of beauty that distracted him, made him brood in a dim corner of the room, watching the little twists of her mouth and the subtle way she arched a brow. Beauty to the point of distraction, like spending hours watching shooting stars dash across the night sky, not realizing as dawn approached on the horizon.

It was utterly maddening.

She was utterly maddening.

How was he meant to live, to exist and breathe, to witness such great beauty and yet have none of the capacity, the right, to keep it?

Just a glance from her, a single curve of her lips, and Benedict could feel his faith in God strengthening as easily as he could deny the Lord’s existence. Only a benevolent God could create such ecstatic beauty and yet no benevolent God could exist in this world if Benedict had to bear the cruelty of Y/N’s indifference.

Maddening.

He sighed, the sound bereft as he continued to watch her charm the eligible men of the ton. She had a veritable cabal of men gathered around her and if any other debutant had been in her position, they surely would have been overwhelmed by now.

But not Y/N.

Never Y/N.

With her head held high and her smile demure, she directed the men as easily as if she was holding court. A slight clearing of the throat and already, someone had a glass of lemonade in their hand while a flap of her hand would have the men falling over themselves in an attempt to get her a chair.

A queen holding court, indeed.

Benedict rolled his eyes at the man to her right, who practically shoved at the man on his left in order to catch Y/N’s attention. Not that it really mattered though, especially not when Y/N’s attention was focused on Benedict.

Even from across the room, the tension between them felt palpable. Exhilarating. It always had been with Y/N. Thick and smooth, the connection between them as tangible as their own beating hearts. Just a shared look between them and the world fell silent, the edges of his vision practically darkening at the edges until he saw only her.

Beautiful. Even as her face contorted with hurt for the briefest of seconds, her eyes pulling away from him and returning to the crowd of men that surrounded her.

Benedict gritted his teeth, the only sign of annoyance he let himself show.

“I see you are not quite so enamored with our diamond.”

Benedict’s head whipped to the left, finding Lady Danbury watching him with those shrewd eyes of hers. The old crone had her cane gripped tightly in her hands and Benedict fought his grimace at the phantom pain that shot up from his ankles. The dowager countess had a terrible habit of whacking gentlemen she didn’t like with that sturdy cane of hers and Benedict had felt the brunt of that pain far too many times for his liking.

Still, as a gentleman, he couldn’t very well ignore the woman. It would have been terribly rude of him to and it went against every fiber of the etiquette that had been drilled to him as a child.

He spared Y/N another glance before he spoke. “You think all those men enamored with her?”

“I think they think themselves enamored by her,” Lady Danbury said. “She is quite a beauty and accomplished too, I hear. Are you acquainted with the young lady?”

He had been, when he was young. As recently as a few months ago, Benedict had counted Y/N as one of his dearest friends but with everything that transpired between them…

“We are familiar with one another.”

Lady Danbury arched a brow, directing her attention back to Y/N. She was animatedly speaking with Anthony and Colin, the only time the entire evening where her smile didn’t seem a little bit forced. “Your brothers seem friendly with her. Why aren’t you?”

Because he was a stupid, bloody, idiot who didn’t know how to keep his damn mouth shut, that’s why.

But his pride would never let him say that, especially not in front of Lady Danbury. “We are familiar with each other.” He repeated, voice tight.

Lady Danbury’s eyes flickered. “I seem to recall your mother telling me about how you and the Lady Y/N were thick as thieves not so long ago.”

Bloody hell, the old crone was relentless. He didn’t want to talk about his and Y/N’s falling out, especially not with her.

He suddenly whirled, cocking his head to the side. “Oh, I believe I hear someone calling me.”

No one was calling him but not even his impeccable manners could make him stay.

Lady Danbury harrumphed. “I may be old, boy, but I am not deaf.”

“Definitely hear someone calling me.” Benedict even cupped a hand, placing it on the side of his mouth before he yelled a quick, “I’ll be right there!” He turned back to Lady Danbury, who was looking at him as if she knew his claims were a lie. “Lady Danbury, if you’ll excuse me.”

The dowager countess simply gave Benedict a knowing look yet let him go.

He ducked into the crowd towards… bloody hell he couldn’t find anyone he would rather talk to. His brothers were still off speaking with Y/N and he didn’t feel like speaking with his mother, who would likely hound him about his fight with Y/N. Which left the last person of their party, Eloise. A quick scan of the room revealed his sister in the other side of the room, conspiratorially whispering to her best friend, Penelope Featherington.

He zoomed towards them, turning his back on Y/N and Lady Danbury.

Eloise caught his eye as he approached and her lips pursed in displeasure. “Why do you look as if you’re expecting me to bail you out of a horrible situation.”

“Can’t I see my favorite sister with joy in my face without being suspected of ill intent?”Benedict said with a grin before bowing to Penelope, who returned the gesture with her own curtsy.

Penelope ducked her head to suppress a giggle.

Eloise rolled her eyes at him. “What do you want?”

“To ask you why you’re sulking in a corner instead of dancing despite—“ he pulled at the dance card in her wrist, every single line filled with names that were unfamiliar to him. “Did you put fake names in your dance card?”

Eloise snatched her wrist back. “Yes. I thought that with Y/N grabbing the attention of so many of the gentlemen, I would be spared the embarrassment of having to entertain any gentlemen tonight. Unfortunately, I was wrong.”

Benedict turned to Penelope. “How many approached her?”

“Six,” Penelope smirked, “and those six quickly turned right back around.”

“Well with a full dance card, I’m not at all surprised.”

Eloise rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Spare me the lecture, brother. I’m sure I’ll hear enough from mother tonight.”

“She caught you?”

“After Eloise turned down the sixth one, Lady Violet began to suspect,” Penelope explained.

Benedict grinned. “When have you known me to lecture you?”

She gave him a saccharine smile, the kind that Benedict always knew would end with her barbed words. “Aren’t you meant to be fawning over Y/N? You’d done it most of our life.”

He bristled at her words.

Penelope shot them a curious look. “You never told me you were acquainted with the lady?”

“Hadn’t I?” Eloise frowned. “Lady Y/L/N’s family and ours have been acquainted for ages. Of course, she rarely ever came to London and if it hadn’t been for her father’s recent passing she wouldn’t have had a season at all. Mama had held hope that perhaps one of my dear brothers would begin to take some responsibility and marry her.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper that was so loud, it still reached Benedict’s ears. “Personally, I always thought Benedict would offer. He and Y/N had a special bond growing up. Even Daphne thinks so.”

Benedict had never hit a woman before but perhaps, just this once, excuses could be made for one’s sisters.

“So, well acquainted then,” Penelope said with a slight smile.

“I do recall Benedict pining after Y/N for years,” Eloise mused, uncaring as Benedict’s mood soured. “You never did tell me why it is you suddenly became estranged”

“Not that it’s any of your business.” He grumbled.

Eloise batted eyes innocently. “Irritable today, aren’t you, brother? Could it possibly be because of the cadre of men that hound every one of Y/N’s footsteps?”

“I have changed my mind. Francesca is now my favorite sister.”

“I love you too, Benedict,” she all but grinned.

He turned his attention back to Y/N, who, to his surprise, had taken her leave.

“She’s in the garden, if you wish to speak to her,” Eloise said, noting his wandering eyes and nodding towards the open veranda at the side.

“What gave you the impression that I would like to speak to her?” He tried to do his best nonchalant impression but not even Benedict was convinced of his own performance.

Eloise simply rolled her eyes at him before tugging Penelope’s arm. “With Y/N taking her respite, I imagine there will be a sudden influx of gentlemen who would like to dance. Let us make ourselves scarce.” And she pulled Penelope along, the red head offering Benedict an apologetic look.

He glanced at the crowd once again before letting his feet carry him through the veranda and out towards the garden. There were still many people milling about outside that granted them protection from scandal but it was much more intimate than the loud din of the ballroom.

The night was cool, the spring air serene compared to the humidity of the ballroom.

He spied Y/N, her back turned against the door. Upon hearing his approach, she sighed. “Good sir, if you did not understand me, I wish to be al—“ she turned and her words died at her lips at the sight of him. “Oh. It’s you.”

She looked even lovelier up close. She always did. Whether dressed in a simple frock with her long hair flowing down her back or dressed ornately with jewels adorning her, she always looked lovelier up close.

“What do you want, Benedict,” Y/N said, dropping that societal mask she employed inside.

“To apologize.”

She shook her head. “There is nothing to apologize for. You asked for my hand under false pretenses, I rejected you. End of story.“

“Under false pretenses?” He echoed, his own tone turning sharp. “You think my proposal to be insincere? Is that why you rejected me?”

“I did not think it insincere, I knew it to be insincere. I heard you and the Lady Violet discussing me. I heard when you declared your intention to ask for my hand in marriage simply because she had asked you to.”

Oh.

Oh.

He remembered then, the conversation he had with his mother right before he proposed.

“Propose to her,” Violet had urged just as breakfast had been served, with only Benedict and Violet dining.

“I am not even courting her, mama,” he replied exasperatedly. It had been far too early in the morning to entertain his mother’s insistence on seeing him wed to Y/N. She’d pestered him about it in one form or another even before the Y/L/Ns had come to visit the Bridgertons and Benedict knew she would not stop until he and Y/N were formally engaged.

But Y/N had just ended her mourning period for her father. And though societal mandates dictated that it was perfectly reasonable for Benedict to ask for her hand in marriage, he knew how deeply she mourned the man, especially since his death had placed her in such a precarious position. The late patriarch of the Y/L/N family had been fond of his only child, even if she had been born a girl. And Y/N had loved him, even if his death left her and her mother saddled with financial debt despite coming from the longest line of barony in England.

“What does it matter that you are not courting?” Violet demanded. “You have known her since you were both children. You’ve been courting her all your life.”

“Mama, please leave it well enough alone.”

“What is it that you do not like about her?” She insisted. “She is beautiful and accomplished and you have known each other your whole lives. Any young man would be fortunate to be bound to her in marriage.”

“I never said anything that would imply otherwise.”

“Then why do you refuse to ask her for her hand in marriage? Doing so would spare her a season in London and limit their financial troubles.” And then she had gasped in indignation. “Or is their financial troubles the very reason why you refuse? I never raised you to be avaricious!”

Bloody hell. “I am not avaricious, mother. I do not care about her dowry or lack thereof!”

“Then what is it? Do not tell me it is because you do not love her. I have seen the way you look at her.”

Benedict had eyed his fork, had wondered if perhaps, it would be a better to shove it in his ears than listen to his mother’s hullabaloo.

Instead he took a scone, spreading a generous layer of clotted cream and jam so his hands had something to do rather than maim himself.

“And how is it I look at her, mother?” He drawled.

“The same way your father used to look at me.”

At that he had paused, scone half-raised to his mouth. He hadn’t known what to say anymore. Mentions of his own father had always been capable of silencing his mind.

Finally, he had decided on telling her the truth, that his mother may finally stop pestering him.

“Asking Y/N for her hand in marriage had always been the plan, mother,” Benedict relented. “I was simply waiting for the perfect moment.”

Violet smiled at her son kindly. “There are no such thing as perfect moments, dearest. Only moments that can be made perfect. And whether you ask her later or tomorrow or next week, that moment will be perfect by virtue of you asking.”

She was right, of course. Violet Bridgerton was so rarely incorrect especially in matters of the heart and love.

Benedict had given her a smile, and said, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Well, since you so graciously asked me to, I shall propose to the Lady Y/N, if only to make you happy.”

That must have been what Y/N heard. Not the whole story but the end, when Benedict had teased his mother.

Now he was convinced that God existed and that he must be cruel. Only the machinations of a cruel God could have lined up the timing perfectly.

Y/N’s eyes flickered as she regarded him. “I do not wish to bind you in marriage with someone you do not hold any affection for. You have fulfilled your promise to your mother and have asked for my hand. I rejected you. We no longer have any obligations with one another. Good night.” She made a move to pass him, to walk back to the ballroom to her gaggle of men but Benedict’s hand shot up, gripping her arm and keeping her to him.

His hands were gloved and even Y/N’s arms were sheathed in silk. And though he had never felt gloves to be particularly offensive, he wished to burn the ones that covered their hands. If only so he could feel her smooth skin beneath his fingers.

The heady scent of her perfume wafted through his senses. She smelled divine, like walking through a garden of roses under the cover of moonlight as the stars twinkled above his head. Utterly mouthwatering, and capable of driving even the sanest of men into insanity. The scent of distraction.

Always so distracting.

Benedict forced his mouth to speak before his brain could forget the words he needed to say. “Do you think so little of me? Capable of such cruelty especially when it comes to you.”

Y/N’s brows met, a flash of pain in her eyes and then it was gone. “It is the opposite, really. I think the world of you, Benedict. Only a gentleman would offer to marry a girl he has no obligations to simply because of her precarious position in life. You are an honorable man and any woman would be lucky to call you their husband. It is why I cannot accept your proposal, not when you do not love me. Not when there is no one on this world more deserving of love than you.”

Benedict frowned at her. “Why do you continue to insist that I do not love you?”

“Because you do not!” She pulled away from him, wrenching her hand from his grasp. Her eyes were pure anguish as she looked at him and the very sight of her pain had him staggering back. “If you truly held any affection for me, I would know. I have studied you all our lives, Benedict. And in all the time we shared together, you had never shown any affection for me beyond that of a friend. Your proposal hurt, Benedict. I have loved you in every way a man could be loved for so long and for you to ask for my hand in marriage out of pity—“ She choked, eyes widening as if she didn’t mean to say the things she’d said.

“You love me?” He echoed, heart beating quickly in his chest. He wondered, briefly, if his fast beating heart marks the day he really lived. If Y/N’s confession had been the reason he truly felt alive for the first time in his life.

Her face crumpled in pain as she stepped back. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said those things. Please take your leave, Benedict. That I may salvage whatever scraps of my dignity is left.”

But Benedict did no such thing.

Instead he took her hands and lowered himself into a kneel, setting his eyes upon her. The arching light of the manor spilled over the veranda casted her in a soft glow that took his very breath away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in alarm and whatever pain she held there was washed away by her surprise. “Benedict, what are you doing?”

“Begging you for forgiveness.”

“What? Benedict, get up.”

But he held firm, his determination cementing his knees to the ground. “Forgive me, Y/N, for my grave transgressions against you. That you had ever lived your life doubting my affections for you, or wondering if I cared for you as more than a friend are sins I will carry with me to my last breath. It will be my great shame that I had not made it abundantly clear that I love you. Because I do love you. Most ardently.”

“Benedict, get up. This is madness—“

“You are right. It is madness. The way I feel for you would drive the sanest of people into lunacy. But if loving you is madness then I don’t ever wish to be sane.”

Her eyes gleamed silver with unshed tears that threatened to fall from her pretty eyes. “B-But that morning, the day you proposed—“

“I did not propose to you out of pity for you, I did it out of pity for me. I needed to put myself out of my misery and finally marry the only girl I ever had the privilege of falling in love with rather than continue pining after you in secret.”

She let out a a laugh through her tears, the sound like bells chiming during a storm. Light and beautiful despite the pouring rain that threatened to drown it out. “Ask me again.”

His heart leapt to his throat, pounding so quickly he struggled to get the words out. But they came nonetheless, the words clear and betraying none of his anxiety. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”