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kaciidubs · 1 year ago

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Walking in on Roommate! Chan | Pt. 2

❣ Summary: A lot can change in a month, but was it truly a change, or simply a realization? ❣ ❣ Word Count: 7.41k ❣ Warnings: Non!Idol AU, Roommate! Chris, fluff, smut, slice of life, slight humor, friends to lovers, slight! dom Chris, Dom/Sub dynamics, smut with feelings, sir/daddy kink ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Sir, and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Good/Pretty Girl, and Princess, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Pt. 1

It had been a month since the incident, and though you thought things had gone unchanged between you and Chris, your reality couldn't have been more wrong.

You seemed to linger more on every interaction with him, your brain working double time to process things he'd say or do as of they had a deeper meaning behind them - which they didn't.

He always left you little notes whenever he'd go out with Changbin for an early gym session, so why were you smiling at the hastily written messages and cutely drawn dragon-worm signature?

He always texted you on your break at work to remind you of any plans he made, so why did your heart flutter every time his contact popped up?

He always made sure your favorite snacks were in the pantry, and if you were running out he'd stock them up before you had the chance to add them on your grocery list, so why did you swoon every time your favorite bag of chips was sat on the kitchen counter?

There was no way your world flipped itself upside down over one incident, absolutely no way...

Unless.

"I'm screwed." You groaned woefully, dropping your head to the table in front of you.

Jeongin laughed, taking a piece of meat from your plate, "I told you to stop laughing at that guy's terrible jokes, now look at you!"

"What?"

"Jongsoo, the coworker you kept saying was trying to flirt with you but couldn't catch a hint?" Felix mused, tilting his head slightly, "Isn't that what we're here to talk about? 'Level three red alert', and all?"

"What? No, no," sitting up, you leveled him with a soft stare, "if this was about him, I would've picked a bar - he doesn't deserve the glory of being talked about over barbecue."

"Okay, so why are we here?" Minho huffed as he flipped a strip of beef on the tabletop grill, "Actually, better question, why am I here? Last I checked I never signed up to this whole 'red alert' code talk."

"Hyung, the last time we shared tea that you didn't know about, you ignored me and Felix for a week for 'leaving you out'." Jeongin spoke pointedly, recalling the way he practically cursed them out for 'disrespecting your elders'.

The former groaned, rolling his eyes, "Why didn't you just say you needed to shit talk someone?! Why are we speaking in code?"

"Because one of our friends has a big mouth, the other one forgets a secret is a secret the second you finish talking to him, another one likes sharing gossip online through subs and secret callout posts, one couldn't even buy a fuck to give about any gossip, and the final one... he's not allowed, he knows too much as it is already." You listed simply before taking a sip of your drink, "The group we have right now is formed out of the strongest tea holders, understand?"

"Anyways," Felix snapped you back into business, "what's happening? Why are you screwed?"

Steeling your nerves, you mentally prepared yourself for the word that were about to come out of your mouth.

"I might have a crush on someone..."

"I knew it." Minho announced smugly, taking another piece of perfectly cooked beef from the grill top.

"What?! There's no way you knew anything about this, Hyung!" Jeongin argued, sitting up in his seat next to you, "You don't even like people! How are you suddenly an insider?"

"Look at her!" He pointed the tongs in your direction, to which you tilted your head in confusion, "The past few days she's been watching her phone like a hawk whenever we all go out, she's been way too happy, and she spaces out more than usual-"

"Okay, that part could just be because of Lix's pot brownies!"

"Hey, hey, hey - ex-nay on the pot brownies-ay, okay? The whole world doesn't need to know - I only do it cause people ask me to!" The blond gritted out, pointing his fork in the direction of the youngest as a threat.

"Yeah, sure, next you're gonna say you only model for Hyunjin because he 'asks you to'."

"You little-"

"Hey!" The eldest of the boys snapped the tongs three times, effectively quieting them, "Shut up! We're here to get information, not talk about Felix's entrepreneur business, got it?" He pointed the utensil toward you yet again, "Talk. Now."

"Well- Uh... I don't know, it's not like I wanted it to happen, I was completely fine as friends with this person but then..." Shrugging your shoulders, you felt the events of the past month play back in your head, "I guess things just changed one day? Like, suddenly I could see them in this new light and now every time he does something so stupidly normal I find myself wanting to kiss him until I can't breathe."

"Ugh, that's both disgusting and cute - why did we have to talk about this over barbecue?" Jeongin whined before stuffing his face with a lettuce wrap. "Whosh th' lucky guy?"

"You really think I'm gonna reveal-"

"I swear to god, please don't say it's your coworker," Felix pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes, "you can do so much better than him - you don't have to do the charity work, I promise you."

"Lee Felix-"

"I know your heart's in the right place, but you don't have to cater to him, please."

"Would you please-"

"40 bucks says it's Chan." Minho hummed through a bite of his bulgogi.

The youngest nearly choked on his drink, swallowing a hefty gulp before coughing, "That's such a bad take! Chan Hyung? The man with negative rizz? The man who stays up long enough to say good night and good morning?"

"You say that like it's impossible!" The freckled blond argued, "It happens all the time in sitcoms!"

"Lix, please, I'd rather you not compare my life to a sitcom, I have enough happening for two seasons and a reunion episode as it is." You groaned, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh, "Can we just move on from the confession and talk about the movie night? I don't think my brain can handle the topic of my non-existent love life much longer."

Through a silent agreement, Minho ordered another round of food and the four of you continued onto much lighter - yet somehow more argument filled, conversation.

The coveted movie night was a monthly event that originally started with you and your friends, using the time Chris would be working late to have a movie marathon loaded with snacks, drinks, and cozy pajamas. It wasn't until Changbin caught word of the activity that the small gathering turned into a merged group affair; it was even enough to convince Chris to take time off to join in on the fun.

In the whirlwind of work and the existential crisis of realizing your crush, you'd completely forgotten that the event would be taking place tonight.

Funny, how fast time flies when your world is in shambles.

"Alright, that's all the blankets and pillows from the closet." Chris huffed, stepping back with his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork; the large couch draped with various blankets and piled high with pillows that were sure to be rearranged in less than a minute of everyone's arrival.

You snuck a glance from your spot in the kitchen, a soft smile growing from his look of personal accomplishment. "Looks great, hopefully we won't have Han and Hyunjin fighting over who gets what pillow again."

He snorted out a laugh, heading over to you, "You think so? Those two could fight over who gets the last chip with an unopened bag right next to them - it's happened before!" Leaning his hip against the island, his eyes glanced over the various snacks covering the surface, "D'you need me to help with anything?"

"Um- Yeah, actually, can you get me the bowls from the cabinet? We can open the chips now, it's almost time for everyone to show up." You turned to look at the stove's clock; 7:33 PM, a little less than half an hour until your shared apartment would be filled with a sea of people.

Chris hummed, pushing himself away from the countertop, and you found your eyes drawn to his frame; a black tank top - sleeveless by his own doing - showing off the subtle build of his biceps, and a matching pair of black shorts you'd seen time and time again.

It was his staple look, simple, perfectly cozy for the impending activities, yet somehow you still felt your heartbeat racing the longer you stared.

Yes, you knew he was attractive, your friends gawked about it for weeks since you first moved in with him, but when was he this attractive?

"The big bowls, yeah?"

Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you nodded, even with his back still turned to you. "Mhm, those are perfect!"

You were in, deep.

You turned your attention back to preparing the chips, opening a bag and sneaking one of the plain potato chips when you felt a hand at the small of your back - the stack of bowls sliding onto the counter a second later.

"Here you go."

This was normal, it was normal for him and his affinity for physical touch, but you still felt a rush of electricity shoot up your spine from his touch - your body freezing as you registered just how close he was behind you.

"Ah- Thanks, Channie!"

Normal. So very, very normal.

"You need anything else?"

Lifting your gaze from the snacks in front of you, your eyes immediately found his; warm and kind, a shade of brown you caught yourself daydreaming of time and time again - distracting enough for you not to realize the mere inches between your faces.

He smelled like mahogany and lavender, a faint musk of the cologne he always wore tinted with your laundry detergent he claimed made his clothes feel softer.

"I, um..." His stare was hypnotizing, sending every productive thought in your brain out the window, "I-"

The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he stepped back.

"That might be Han, he said he'd be coming a bit earlier."

"Yeah, no, that's fine - can you finish opening these when you get back? I'm gonna go get changed."

Chris hummed out a short "Yeah" before heading toward the front door, leaving you to collect yourself amongst the colorful serving bowls.

This was going to be a long night.

It wasn't long before everyone showed up; comfort clothes on and ready for the night's movie queue and rounds of snacks.

The seating arrangements remained in their usual layout with the mix of your friends between the couch or the floor, while you somehow always found yourself tucked between Chris and and the corner of the couch - arguably, the best part of any couch in your opinion.

This time, however, the arrangement was met with knowing side eye glances from your half of the friend group, a few of your girls sharing barely hidden smirks and whispers.

Before you could throw a pillow as a warning sign, a blanket of polyester blocked your vision and filled your nose with an all too familiar scent.

"Here," Chris hummed softly, rounding the edge of the couch to take his place next to you, "in case you get cold."

"Aw, you thought of me?" You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours as you unfolded his blanket and draped it across your legs.

"I always think of you."

His words made you freeze, your heart stuck in a limbo of floating to your throat or falling to the pit of your stomach while he carried on with the rest of the group.

I always think of you.

Always.

The revelation had the gears in your head working double time, the events of the past month playing like a movie in your mind - akin to the one currently starting on the TV in front of you.

He always thought of you, his caring nature shown in so many ways besides the ones you grew used to while living under the same roof; if you were running late coming home, you'd always have a text making sure you were safe - or, when you had important dates in your schedule, he'd be the one to remind you when they were a few days away.

Chris always did little things to show that you were on his mind, he always made it clear that you were important to him, that he cared about you as much as he did his friends.

But maybe... Maybe there was more behind it.

Your fingers glided along the blanket covering your lap, the fabric soft and welcoming like the hug of a close friend.

I always think of you.

It was like the three movies passed in the span of seconds, some of your shared friends tapping out after the second film, while the stragglers and self proclaimed cleanup crew stuck around to take in a cheesy family comedy of a man taking his family on a wild vacation.

"Min, you don't have to do that, you know," you chastized the black haired man as he washed the empty chip bowls, "I would've gotten to it in the morning!"

He scoffed out a chuckle, throwing you a knowing side eye, "Yeah, says the person who told me how much she hates the dishes with a passion stronger than Han's coffee addiction."

Deciding to protect your pride - knowing full and well he was completely correct - you wandered back into the living room where Felix and Jisung were folding one of the blankets, while Jeongin rearranged the pillows and Changbin gathered any missed trash lying around.

Felix shot you a sleepy smile, nodding his head toward the stack of folded blankets, "D'you want us to put these back in the closet?"

"No, you guys have done more than enough, seriously! I'll put them away, don't worry."

"What about this one?" Jisung held up the navy blanket you were using, Chris' navy blanket. "Want it folded? Are you still using it?"

"It's actually Chris's, I'll give it back to him."

Said man slipped away to his bedroom in the middle of the third movie, mentioning something about double checking some files for work before wishing you all a good night.

Humming in acceptance, the remaining boys gathered their belongings and headed toward the door, giving each of them a hug and making them swear to text when they each made it home safely.

Minho gave you a soft smile, though a certain glint in his eyes raised warning sign in your head, "Have a good night." He hummed with an air of mischief, slipping through the door before you had even a second to question him.

Frowning at the wood, you clicked the lock into place before gathering everything you needed to close off the living room for the night; tucking the navy blanket under your arm while balancing the other blankets in your hand. You stuffed them back into their bin in the hallway closet with ease, sliding the door shut and making your way toward your last stop of the night.

The sound of your knuckles against the door echoed through the empty hall, "Channie, you up?"

"Yeah, you can come in!"

Turning the knob, you were bathed in a soft purple light from his LED's, walking into the cozy atmosphere to see him laying on his bed with his phone in hand, "Hi."

He smiled, dropping his phone to the side as he sat up, "Hey, you - is everyone gone?"

"Yep, they helped clean up as usual, I'm just here to return this," you held up the blanket, stopping just short of the side of his bed, "thanks for letting me borrow it."

"You know, you can keep using it if you want, it's not like I won't know where it is."

Rolling your eyes, you held it out to him, "Chris, you and I both know I don't need anymore blankets in my room."

"What if you get cold?" He grinned, challenging you with glittering eyes.

"Then I'll use one of my blankets!" You laughed at his cheekiness, tossing the blanket in his direction just for him to catch it before it covered his face.

The room filled with your combined giggles, warmth settling over you as you watched him unceremoniously ball the blanket up and toss it toward his computer chair.

Just as you were about to announce your leave, your mind seemed to have a mission of its own the minute you opened your mouth.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, always - what's up?"

Always - god, was he trying to drive you crazy on purpose?

You needed clarity, something to confirm that you were seeing things that weren't truly there - making a purpose out of words that were simply meant from one roommate to another, one best friend to another.

"So... About what you said in the living room, when you said you always think of me..." You dropped your gaze from his, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to you, "Did... Did you mean it?"

"Of course I meant it, you're one of my best friends - I think about you all the time!" The smile he gave you was genuine, warm, filled with so much truth that it made your heart skip a beat.

Steeling your nerves, you looked up at him with a firm stare, "All the time?"

"Yes...? I mean, I think about other people and things too, but for the most part you've always been there... Why are you asking-"

"Did you think about me last month?"

His smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he searched your face for a hint of an answer. "What are you talking about?"

"Chris, did you think about me last month - when I walked into your room and I saw you-" Taking a sharp breath, you calming yourself before looking at him with pleading eyes, "Did you think of me?"

The silence was thick, the sound of your own heart filling your ears - you were certain it would beat right out of your chest and run out of the room to save you from this conversation.

"Would..." He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he picked at the sheets underneath him, "Would it be weird if I said yes?"

Your stomach flipped, your knees threatening to buckle and send you straight to the floor but you stood strong. "Would it be weird if I said I wanted you to?"

His head snapped back up and he stared at you with a look crossed between shock and awe, "Are you serious?"

"Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." The confession took you by storm, though you couldn't find it in yourself to stop talking, "And it's not just from that night - well, some of it is, but since then it's like... enhanced? Like, every little thing you do just lingers and sometimes I think I'm just going crazy because it's not like you've done anything new - it's just you, yet my heart feels like it'll explode after every text you send, or whenever we're in the same room, and I-"

The sound of your name from his lips stopped your panicked ramble, though the look he gave you did little to calm your racing heart.

"Come here."

Offering his hand, you cautiously accepted it and let him guide you onto his bed, straddling his lap at his instance while trying not to completely evaporate from the close proximity.

"Honestly, this isn't how I thought I'd end up confessing, but I guess there's a lot about us that isn't traditional," he chuckled to himself, his hands naturally finding their home on your hips, just below the waistband of your pajama shorts. "First, I want you to know that I think about you no matter what - you're always somewhere in my mind and at first I thought it was because you're my roommate, someone I care about just like everyone else in my life. But, recently things have been changing and I..." Taking a deep breath, his eyes found yours, a firm, yet comforting gaze holding you captive in those brown irises, "I have feelings for you- I like you, more than just a roommate or a best friend, and I didn't want to ruin things between us if you didn't feel the same w-"

You cut him off with your lips against his, swallowing the rest of his sentence with a small hum of delight - soft with a hint of cherry chapstick.

He melted almost immediately, tugging you closer as a hand slid up your back to keep you pressed against his body - almost as if he allowed anymore space between you, you'd somehow disappear into his dreams.

When you went to pull away, he followed like a desperate puppy and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Just so you know, that kiss means I definitely feel the same way."

Chris huffed out a giggle, narrowing his eyes playfully, "No, really? I would've never guessed!"

"Well, I know for a fact you also feel the same way." The lilt in your voice was teasing, making a show of rolling your hips against the mass that was quickly making itself known between your legs.

Biting his lip, he leveled you with a firm gaze, daring, "Don't start something you can't finish, baby."

The pet name made your heart flutter, and you tilted your head up in defiance, "What makes you think I don't wanna finish it, hm?" Grinding your hips yet again, you were able to work out a low groan from those wonderfully kissable lips, "I can finish it, Channie, just show me how."

Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in another mind melting kiss that had you letting out a shivering moan against his mouth as you tried matching his ferocity.

"You," he panted, nipping your bottom lip, "are gonna be the death of me, you little minx."

He kissed his way down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots he miraculously had no trouble in finding, leaving you wondering how much he truly knew about you to discover this information.

However, all of your critical thinking skills flew out the window when he sucked at a spot just underneath your jaw, turning you into a whining mess that only craved him and him alone.

Tilting your head to the side to grant him more room, you simultaneously tugged at his shirt - almost offended that he decided tonight of all nights to wear one in the privacy of his own room.

"Off, Chris."

He pulled himself away from the paradise that was your skin, gazing at you with simmering eyes, "Say please?"

Pouting, you pulled at the offending cotton once more, "Chris-"

His hands immediately found your wrists, tugging them gently behind your back as he tilted his head, fixing you with a tsk of disapproval. "Use your manners, princess, you know how this goes."

Your body temperature spiked, flashes of him saying the same fated words as a tease just to get you to beg for him before he inevitably gave you what you wanted, playing back like a film reel.

You know how this goes.

Swallowing down the demand threatening to bubble up, you relaxed in his hold and softened your undoubtedly needy gaze, "Please, Chris? Can you take your shirt off, for me?"

The smirk that stretched his lips had your stomach doing flips, the mere glimpse of the cocky energy he had inside of him making your mouth water and your pussy flutter with need.

"That's my girl."

He let go of your wrists to hike the hem of his shirt into his hands, before tugging it up and off with the coveted crossed-arm maneuver that he never failed to use as his prized flirting trick - and, god, was it a good trick.

Despite having seen him shirtless countless times, seeing him shirtless up close had your brain melting.

"Remind me to thank Changbin for keeping you in check with his gym routine."

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, could we maybe not talk about our other friends while I have you in my lap?"

Barely holding back your laughter, you nodded and slipped your own pajama shirt off in one go as a peace offering, tossing it to the floor where his currently laid. "Yes, sir - won't happen again." When he went rigid underneath you, you arched an eyebrow, "Oh? We have a sir kink, do we?"

Before you could tease him any further, he surged forward and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, passion fueled and determined as his warm hands found the new, uncharted territory of your back.

"You're playing with fire, princess." His tone was firm, laced with warning as he nipped at your plump bottom lip, "You really think you can handle it?"

The tantalizing threat of a challenge had your heart skipping a beat; you'd seen him get into one of these moods before, asking an open ended question that he already know the answer to, and playing that game now held too many promising rewards in the end.

Preparing yourself for the next words coming out of your mouth, you gave him an innocent smile, "I know I can handle it, sir."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back, graciously earning you the split second of weightlessness before you were pinned on your back with every sense of yours surrounded by Chris; the feeling of his soft, cool sheets against your back, the smell of him ingrained into the cotton threading, and the heart stopping sight of him hovering above you bathed in that soft purple glow.

"Tell me you want this." His eyes locked onto your own, brown irises filled with caution and hope, "If you want me to stop, I'll stop, and we can pretend we never let it get this far, I promise."

"I want this- God, I need this, I need you, Chris - keep going, please."

With your consent given, his fingers danced up your thighs and over the cotton shorts you wore - a matching set to the shirt that was long forgotten - before dipping past the elastic waistband to drag them back down the expanse of your thighs.

They were unceremoniously tossed to the ground with the ever growing pile of clothes, and when he turned to give your panties the same, eventual treatment, his jaw nearly dislocated from the rate it dropped at; a bright blush turning his ears and neck red.

"Holy shit- I-I mean, fuck- Please... Please tell me you planned this"

You were now laid in his bed fully nude, which meant you weren't wearing panties for as long as the movie night went on, and that thought alone had his dick painfully straining against his own shorts.

Shaking your head, you timidly knocked your knees together, bristling at the exposure of cold air against your pussy, "I, um... I really wish I could say I planned it, but I didn't." Blinking up at the ceiling, a sheepish laugh shook your shoulders, "It's more comfortable sleeping without them, you know?"

Of course, you knew he knew from a few fated encounters with him early in the mornings, courtesy of wandering eyes and a not-so-small situation he tried keeping tucked away - it seemed that between the two of you, underwear was a foreign concept in the privacy of your shared apartment.

Chris groaned, a low, aching sound that begged for mercy to be taken on him, "You're absolutely going to be the death of me, there's no way you're real right now - this has to be a dream." Resting his hands on your knees, he silently waited for your hum of permission before pulling them apart, following the angle of your thighs down to catch his first glimpse of your pussy. "Fuck, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up."

"Chris."

Your insistent whine didn't fall on deaf ears as he wasted no time in scooting down his bed and ducking his head between your legs; plump lips peppering wet kisses along your soft skin, from the inside of your knee down to the highest point of your inner thigh, before skipping entirely over your cunt to repeat the process to your other leg.

Each caress of his lips sent chills up your spine, sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves and powering the growing desire within the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, you wouldn't have to suffer much longer as his second trip down ended with the warm sensation of his tongue swiping through your lower lips with a careful curiosity.

A sound crossed between a sigh and a moan floated through him before his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs and he all but dove his head toward your pussy; lapping messily at the arousal dripping from you while aiming to explore your fluttering walls.

"Oh, shit-" Hands flying to his hair, you gripped at the roots as shock tinted pleasure shot through you, "Oh my god, Chris- Oh, god!"

The only sounds coming from him were muffled moans and lewd slurps, the only instances of his mouth leaving your pussy being him shifting his head up to focus his devilish tongue along your clit, and him pulling away for mere seconds of air before getting back to work.

He was eating you out like a man starved, and all you could do was lay there and take it with wanton moans and whines of his name.

"Chris, baby," you panted breathlessly, fingers tugging at his roots in hopes of gaining his attention, "baby, w-wait-" Pulling a bit harder, you were met with a groan of pleasure, sending your back into a small arch as the vibrations flowed through you.

With a small gasp of air, he pulled away just enough for you to catch the shine of your arousal coating the tip of his nose and lips, pupils blown with a fog of desire that made your mouth run dry.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? D'you wanna stop?"

"No, no, you're amazing - if we stopped now I might actually die," giving him a reassuring smile, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, "but as wonderful as your tongue is, I'd rather come on your dick first."

"Fuck." Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, he sat up with a groan, "We're going to have to do something about that mouth of yours."

Blinking up at him with faux innocent eyes, you tilted your head, "I'm just telling the truth, sir."

He smirked at the pout set on your lips, leaning over you to nip gently at the flesh, "That's fine, I just wonder what else it can do." Sweeping you into a feather light kiss, he murmured softly, "You'll show me later, though, won't you, princess?"

Your pussy fluttered, clenching around nothing as you nodded without hesitation - only focused on getting those pretty lips, tinted with the taste of your arousal, back on your own.

"Good girl."

Chris pulled back, laughing at your whine of disdain while his hands got to work sliding down his black shorts with ease, shifting to get them fully off and added as the final item to the pile on the floor.

In the midst of all of his moving, you were able to catch a glimpse of just exactly what he was packing and your jaw dropped - the accidental peek you'd seen a month ago barely comparing to the full on staring contest you were having now.

He was big, bigger than most you'd had before in almost every way, and you nearly began to consider if it would even fit; your gaze trailing up the slight curve it held, mouth watering at a prominent vein running along the side.

"I'll go slow."

Your gaze snapped back up to meet his own, the previously cocky aura he held now warm and comforting, and your - admittedly needless - worries subsided.

"And I meant what I said earlier," reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled open a small drawer to take out a small, obvious box, "if you want me to stop, just say so."

Leaning up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a foil packet, "Do you know about safewords?"

"Yeah," bringing his full attention back to you, he tilted his head, "d'you have one?"

"Pear, for a hard stop, or the light system if it's easier for you to work with."

Scoffing out a laugh, he shook his head, "Whichever works for you, baby - I'll remember."

As you laid yourself back onto his bed, he made work of ripping open the condom packet, taking out the rubber and sliding it on with careful, yet experienced ease.

"Y'know, I never thought someone could look hot while putting on a condom, but I don't mind being proven wrong." When he ducked his head in embarrassment, a familiar sheepish blush beginning to turn his ears red, you giggled at your small achievement.

"It's our first time together, I didn't want to just assume that... you know." Growing past his shyness, Chris settled himself between your legs once more, one hand holding the back of your knee while the other wrapped around the base of his cock - a shiver of brief relief running down his spine. "Ready?"

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "Ready."

Dropping his gaze, he leaned forward to press the covered head of his dick against your glistening entrance, biting his lip at the warmth emanating through before pushing onward - working the tip past your walls slowly.

The increasing stretch had a low moan escaping you, each inch introducing a new wave of pain tinted pleasure that shot from the top of your head to your toes. "Fuck, Chris."

He wasn't faring any better on his end, the lack of attention given to his dick since you first sat in his lap had him beyond sensitive and holding fast to his promise like a lifeline - go slow, go slow.

"Relax for me, baby," he gritted out, shivering as your walls clenched around the half of his length he managed to sink in, "just a little more, okay? Just need you to let me in."

"'M trying - you're so big." You couldn't find yourself to care about the desperate whine that took your voice, not when you were being deliciously filled with more to come.

Abandoning his hold on your thigh, he licked the pad of his thumb before bringing it to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of helping you relax further - and it worked. He was able to slowly sheath the rest of his dick inside of you, breathing a sigh of relief, while you shivered underneath him, canting your hips against the consistent flicks of his thumb against your sensitive nub.

"M-Move- Oh god, please move, Channie."

"Are you sure you're ready for that? I can wait-"

"Channie," looking up at him, you tried your best to give him a firm stare through the mind fogging lust, "I need you to fuck me; the color's green, it's so green, I promise - please, just fuck me already!"

He took his thumb off of your clit in favor of holding onto your hip instead, hovering over your body and keeping himself balanced with his left hand.

Licking his lips, his eyes searched your face for any signs of doubt, but he was simply met with desire and need. "Okay, only because you said please."

A smile lit up your face, and just as you went to give him a teasing reply, your body jolted forward and a surprised moan shot past your lips instead.

Another sharp thrust rocked your body and your hands scrambled to find purchase on his broad shoulders, latching onto him to take every quick, deep thrust he delivered before he fell into a regular pace of thorough strokes that had you seeing stars.

Chris watched every subtle shift in your expression after each thrust, drinking in the cute pinch of your eyebrows and pout of your lips while the sounds of your moans created a symphony in his head.

"Beautiful," he murmured, shifting his knees to allow him to drive deeper into your dripping cunt, "my pretty girl, taking me like you're fucking made for me."

The shift in his hips led you to lift your own, and the resulting graze of his cock against your g-spot had a near pornographic moan leaving you - neighbors be damned.

Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he made a mental note to keep that angle as long as he could. "There it is - Fuck, look at you."

Your nails scratched down his shoulder blades, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the man above you, yet he continued on without hesitation.

"I wish I told you sooner," stifling a grunt, he switched up the pace with slow, shallow rolls of his hips, "could've had this pussy wrapped around me every fucking night."

A helpless whine vibrated through you, but the following moan was something neither you or him was prepared for.

"Daddy!"

There was a brief pause, not even lasting a full minute though it was glaringly obvious to you - even in your blissed out haze. Blinking up at him with worried eyes, you were ready to apologize for the mortifying slip up until you realized he wasn't looking down at you in disgust - but, rather, unrestrained lust.

"Daddy, hm? Is that what my pretty baby wants?" Sliding his hand down your thigh, he maneuvered to hook your leg in the crook of his arm and bring it up higher, evidently opening you up more. "I don't mind, it's fitting - you don't need sir right now anyways, isn't that right, princess? So," rutting his hips into yours, a cocky smirk curved his lips, "keep being a good girl and tell daddy just how good he's making you feel."

You could've died right then and there and considered it a fulfilling life; pinned underneath your best friend, your roommate, fucked within an inch of your sanity while he murmurs the dirtiest sentences you ever imagined from those glorious lips of his.

"O-Oh, god- P-Please, daddy-"

"Please, what, baby? I love hearing you beg, but you have to tell me what you want."

He knew what you wanted, he could feel it with each pulse of your cunt, the way your leg tensed in his hold while your body writhed underneath him - you were close, and he wanted to see just how far he could push you.

"I-I want- Fuck-" You squeezed the flexed muscle of his bicep, while your free hand fisted the pillowcase underneath your head, trying your best to gather the brain cells to make a comprehensible sentence through his unrelenting pace. "I wanna come- wanna come for you," blinking up at him with glossy eyes, you submitted instantly, "please, daddy, can I?"

Chris' pace faltered for the smallest of seconds, his heart swelling and his dick aching for the release he'd been fighting back since he entered your warm pussy - there was no use in stalling for more time, not when you needed him as much as he needed you.

"Hold it for just a little longer, princess." When you gave a displeased whine, he leaned down to kiss the pout off of your face, "It won't be long, I promise - ten seconds, you can count with me, yeah?"

Nodding desperately, you snuck another kiss from him before waiting for his next instruction, trying your best to suppress your lingering orgasm.

"Good girl - now, can you use your fingers to play with your clit for me? You can keep holding onto me, just use your free hand."

You followed his directions diligently, quickly licking your index finger before managing to work your arm between your bodies and finding your puffy clit with ease; the lightest touch sending a shock of pleasure through your system.

"'S too much, I-I can't-"

He shushed you, "You can, I know you can, just count with me, okay? Focus on me, baby - starting from ten."

Swallowing back a whine, you took a shivering breath, "T-Ten."

"Good, keep counting."

As your slow, broken countdown continued, he took the time to adjust his position one final time; sitting up straight and using his left hand to gather your leg in the same position as your right, holding you spread open and fully subject to his will.

"Seven... S-Six- Oh my god-" Your eyes rolled, your body feeling like fire was liking at each of your limbs as you rubbed quick circles around your clit.

"Don't stop counting, princess," Chris grunted, licking his lips as sweat beaded along his forehead, "come on, five."

A short sob broke past your lips, eyebrows pinching together, "I c-can't- I can't, daddy!"

"Four." He continued on, angling your legs slightly higher and focusing on the almost hypnotizing wet slapping sound of your pussy all but drenching his cock and the sheets underneath. "Three - almost there, baby, keep holding it for me."

You made a noise, not caring what it sounded like as long as it was known that you were still hanging in there, if only by a thread.

"T-Two - my perfect girl, doing so well for daddy, s-so fucking proud of you," he gritted out, breaths coming in bated pants as he exchanged the speed of this thrusts for more power, watching your back arch off of the bed in the process. "One - come, come for me, baby."

Your body followed through before your mind had the chance to comprehend his words, white-hot pleasure flooding through your veins as you came with a cry of his name - at least, you hoped the sound that came out resembled his name.

Chris groaned, doing his best to fuck you through your orgasm until he came with a shivering gasp, almost pained, high pitched whines falling from his lips with each wave; his dick quickly being surrounded by the warmth of his cum filling the latex.

Hours could've passed before you were able to come back to your senses, blinking your eyes open and dazedly looking at the man above you.

Even after sending you to the moon and back, he looked as breathtaking as ever; chest heaving and head tossed back, large hands now caressing your thighs as your feet met the mattress once more.

"Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, lifting his head to look at you with glittering eyes, "You okay? That- I didn't go too far, did I?"

Oh, he was going to be the death of you.

Shooting him a tired smile, you shook your head, "I'm more than okay - that was amazing, daddy."

You didn't miss the way his dick twitched inside of you from your words, his hands squeezing you softly.

"Princess, as much as I love hearing you say that, I might end up fucking you through the mattress if you keep it up."

Biting your lip, you not-so-subtly glanced at the open box on his nightstand before looking at him with daring eyes, "If I call you my boyfriend, can you fuck me into the next morning?"

He paused as if heavily pondering your words, then slowly pulled out of your sensitive walls with a grunt, "If you let me call you my girlfriend and let me take you on a date, you can call me both and I'll fuck you until you can't walk."

A bright smile found its way to your face and you nodded happily, "Deal, boyfriend."

With a grin as bright as the sun, he made quick work of taking off the used condom before tying it and tossing it in the small trash near his nightstand; returning to hover over you with warm eyes, "Deal, girlfriend."

Safe to say, he upheld his end of the deal with flying colors, and you planned the date as soon as you regained the ability to walk a day later.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies for Pt. 2 [If you want to be added to my official tag list please fill out the form below]: @turtledove824, @boi-bi-ahaha, @skzworlddomination44, @brojustfknkillm3

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #bangchan smut #bangchan fluff #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader

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cruel-seduction · 2 months ago

Text

James Potter as Your Boyfriend

a/n - I am listening to my romantic playlist on repeat so it might be more cheesy than I intend it to be.

(୨୧) That Infuriatingly Perfect HairJames Potter is the guy who knows his hair is a mess and somehow still uses it as his primary flirting tactic. (Like, sir, did you actually think ruffling your hair would make me swoon? … Okay, maybe a little.) He smirks every time you roll your eyes at him doing it, but the kicker is when you catch him fixing it in a reflection right before seeing you. “Gotta look sharp for my girl,” he says with a wink. (Spoiler: he does not, in fact, look sharp, but you love it anyway.)

(୨୧) The Walking Ego (Who’s Secretly a Softie)He loves to show off in front of you, especially on the Quidditch field. He’ll pull stunts, grinning like he’s the coolest guy in the world, just to hear you cheer his name. (Never mind that he almost fell off his broom that one time; we don’t talk about that.) But when it’s just the two of you, his cocky demeanor drops, and he’s all shy smiles and quiet, “Did you really think I was good out there? Or are you just saying that because you love me?” cue him melting when you reassure him.

(୨୧) His Endless Need for Validation

James is the guy who constantly asks, “Did you see that?!” anytime he does anything remotely impressive, even if it’s just catching a piece of parchment midair. (You could be reading, and he’ll yell, “Love, LOOK!” before performing some ridiculous stunt). He’s a golden retriever in human form, and if you don’t immediately cheer for him, he’ll sulk until you give him a kiss. (You love it, though. Admit it).

(୨୧) His Terrible Jealousy

James acts like he’s the most confident guy alive, but the second someone flirts with you, his ears turn red, and he starts loudly talking about how amazing his girlfriend is. (You: “Subtle, Potter.” Him: “Not subtle, James Potter.”) If you so much as laugh at someone else’s joke, he’ll spend the next hour sulking until you kiss him and say, “No one compares to my idiot.” (He perks up immediately, naturally.)

(୨୧) The Chaotic Pillow Talk

James is that boyfriend who talks nonsense when you’re lying in bed together. One moment, he’s whispering sweet nothings like, “You’re my entire world,” and the next, he’s like, “Do you think Sirius could charm his hair to look like yours? Because I think about it a lot.” (You: “What the actual fuck?” Him: “I’m serious.”) Somehow, you love him more for it.

(୨୧) The Unintentional PDAJames isn’t subtle. At all. He’s the guy who’ll grab your hand in the middle of class, lean over, and whisper, “You look really pretty today,” loud enough for everyone—including Professor McGonagall—to hear. (You’re mortified; he’s grinning like a cat that got the cream.) And when you try to scold him later, he just shrugs and says, “What? I’m not gonna hide how I feel. Everyone should know you’re mine.”

(୨୧) The Emotional ProtectorJames may be a reckless Gryffindor, but when it comes to your emotional well-being, he’s shockingly thoughtful. If you’re upset, he’s the first to notice, even if you try to hide it. He’ll pull you into a quiet corner and say, “What’s wrong, love? You know you can tell me anything.” And if you cry? Oh, this man will hold you so tightly it’s like he’s trying to shield you from the entire world. (He definitely whispers, “I’ve got you, always,” like it’s a solemn vow.)

(୨୧) The Ride-or-Die RomanticJames Potter is the kind of boyfriend who makes you feel like you’re his entire world. He’s got that intense Gryffindor loyalty, and once he’s in love, there’s no turning back. He’ll write you corny notes like, “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and I’m including winning the House Cup in that list.” (They’re signed with little doodles of a stag and a heart because he’s the absolute worst.)

(୨୧) The Over-the-Top Romantic Gestures

He’ll do big, stupidly romantic things, like charming the stars in the Astronomy Tower to spell out your name (Sirius: “You’re disgusting, mate.” James: “Shut it, Pads, she’s the one”). But he’s also the type to leave little notes in your books, like “Marry me?” and “You’re the sexiest witch alive.” (You’ve found many letters in Hogwarts, A History. Yes, you kept them all.)

(୨୧) The Unexpected Vulnerability

Despite all his confidence, James has quiet moments when he doubts if he’s enough for you. “You could have anyone,” he’ll say softly, tracing patterns on your arm. (His voice cracks, and your heart aches). You always pull him close, reminding him that he’s more than enough, and he’ll smile in that shy, boyish way that makes your chest warm. (You: “You’re my James.” Him: “Always.”)

(୨୧) The King of Over-the-Top Gestures

James doesn’t just love you; he worships you. He’s the guy who’ll book out the entirety of Madam Puddifoot’s just to have a private date (you: “James, this is ridiculous.” him: “Ridiculously romantic, you mean”). But he’ll also sit with you on the Quidditch stands, freezing his arse off, just because he knows you like watching the stars after a match.

(୨୧) The Secret Softie

Yes, he’s cocky. But when it comes to you? This man melts. You mention being tired? Suddenly there’s a hot cup of tea waiting for you in the common room. (You: “How’d you know?” Him: “I’m James Potter. I know everything.”) He’d deny it if anyone else asked, but he lives to see you smile. His whole demeanor changes when it’s just the two of you—less bravado, more tenderness. (If you catch him staring at you all lovesick, just know he’s planning your wedding in his head.)

(୨୧) The “I’m Your Biggest Cheerleader” Energy

James will hype you up like his life depends on it. Got an essay due? “No problem, love, you’ve got this!” Need help with a spell? He’ll spend hours practicing with you until you nail it. And when you do, he’s out here clapping like you just won the Quidditch Cup. (Sirius: “Mate, chill, it’s a summoning charm.” James: “IT’S A BIG DEAL, PADFOOT.”) You can’t even be annoyed because the way he beams at you makes your heart flutter every damn time.

(୨୧) The Ego and the Heart to Match

James knows he’s hot—and he’ll never let you forget it. (You: “You’re insufferable.” Him: “You mean irresistible.”) But here’s the kicker: despite his cockiness, he’s never made you feel less than cherished. He’s the type to blow off quidditch practice just to study with you for your OWLs, or charm your quill to write faster when he sees you stressing. (You didn’t even ask. He just noticed.) He may act like the world revolves around him, but you’re the sun he orbits.

(୨୧) The Bravado

This man will not shut up about how good he is at everything—Quidditch, hexes, kissing you senseless against a bookshelf. And the worst part? He’s not wrong. (You: “Cocky much?” Him: “Confident, sweetheart. There’s a difference.”) But then there’s the unexpected softness, like when he presses his forehead against yours after, whispering, “You’re all I’ll ever want.” It’s the mix of arrogance and vulnerability that leaves you completely undone every time. (Yes, you’re ruined. No, you’re not mad about it.)

(୨୧) The “I’d Die for You” Loyalty

James would go to the ends of the earth for you—and you know it. He’s reckless when it comes to protecting you, stepping in front of danger without a second thought. (You: “Stop being so stupidly brave!” Him: “I can’t help it; it’s in the Potter genes. Do you want your kids to have these genes??”) Even in his most infuriating moments, you can’t deny how deeply he loves you. He’s yours, completely and irrevocably, and Merlin, does it feel good to be loved by James Potter.

#jamespotter #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine #james potter one shot #james potter dialogue #james potter drabble #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter x black reader #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x yn #james potter x y/n

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thesquidgame · 12 days ago

Text

Promises

Kang Dae-ho x reader

Summary: You and Dae-ho's relationship, from the beginning, to one night in a subway station.

Warning: female reader who can get pregnant, abusive parents, existential crisis, misogyny and toxic masculinity (not from Dae-ho), PTSD, shootings, injury, infertility, a lot of medical talk, surgery, male infertility, guilt and hopelessness, medical emergency with a pregnant woman, premature baby, lmk if I missed anything

The character's references to their infertility is their emotions and feelings towards the situation as a trauma response. A person struggling with infertility is not broken or a failure in any way whatsoever.

15k

It was the middle of the night, when you met Dae-ho. You were working at your job in a convenience store, and were staring at your phone. You had been scrolling for what felt like hours when you heard someone approach the cash register. You put your phone down, preparing for a quick transaction. Only to be surprised that when you looked up, you saw the most attractive man you had ever seen in your entire life.

He was wearing a full military uniform, and his hat was off revealing a shaved head.

“Um, hi.” You said, immediately internally face-palming because of your stupid first line.

“Hi!” The man said, “just this please!” He was smiling, even though it was after midnight on a Monday.

You panned down to see a candy bar and a sugary drink guaranteed to rot anyone’s teeth. Shockingly, you had only ever sold it to children before.

“Um, yeah of course.” Jeez, was um the only word in your vocabulary?

You quickly scanned the items, and the smiling military man grabbed them both, “thanks, see you later!”

Puzzled, you stared at him as he walked away, confused as to what had just happened with that smiling sculpted-by-the-gods man.

The man came in every night after that, always around midnight, and always with a smile on his face. After the first day, you noticed that he would go outside, eat whatever he had bought in front of the door, and then leave. You understood, sometimes after your shift ended you would stand in front of the convenience store for a while, just sighing. It was nice to have a moment of peace somewhere besides work or home.

After a week you got the courage to go outside and talk to him, “hi, excuse me, you’re welcome to come inside.” He turned, looking at you as he sipped his drink through a straw, “I just mean… I have another chair, you could. Um.” You paused, mortified. “I’m sorry, ignore me.” You hesitated for another second before saying, “Sir?” You were unsure of the title you should greet him with

He laughed, in a way that clearly felt like he was not admonishing you. “Sorry, that would be great.” He reached out his hand towards you, “and the only people who call me sir are the new recruits, you can call me Dae-ho.” You shook his hand.

Dae-ho came and sat on a chair that was halfway behind the cashier, and halfway in the open. “I’m sorry to be so awkward, I just don’t talk to too many people on the night shift. It’s the middle of winter so I thought you would be more comfortable inside.” He looked at you, entirely seriously, “I don’t think you’re awkward at all.”

You smiled, looking away from him. If he looked in your eyes he would definitely see how flustered you were. “Thank you.”

You were terrible at flirting. Terrible, awful. Every attempt you had made with previous guys and crashed and burned. The only people you actually dated were alpha male types who took control of every situation. They said the first line, your conversations followed their lead, and when you approached a topic they didn’t understand, or didn’t want to talk about, that would no longer be the topic you were talking about.

Dae-ho wasn’t like that. At all.

Whenever you approached a new topic he would prop his elbow up on the table and rest his head on his hand, staring at you intently. No matter how long it would take you to get the idea across, or how long you rambled on about one topic, he would listen. He would never interrupt, only ask questions when you were done.

On one especially cold night, the power went out. The streets had become icy, and Dae-ho refused to let you make your way home in the dark by yourself. And you refused to let him walk you home, only to turn around right after and walk by himself in the dangerous conditions to the subway station.

So, you both were sitting in the back room of the tiny little convenience store, as far from the front as possible to stay warm until the power came back on. Your phone said it would be in an hour at most, and you crossed your fingers that it would because it was getting colder by the minute.

There was something about a small room, with no windows, that made deep conversations so much easier. Dae-ho was sitting cross-legged in front of you, talking about his mother and sisters, and how close he was with all of them even into adulthood. It made perfect sense, every time you learned something about him it clicked perfectly into place like a puzzle piece.

“All of my sisters have kids already. My oldest sister has three already.” He said, eating a bag of chips that you snagged from inventory.

“Three, well that’s not so bad. One of my friends in high school had eight siblings.” You laughed, and Dae-ho grimaced.

“Nine kids, and I thought five was way too many.” He said, chuckling.

“By the way Dae-ho, I just realized I never asked how old you are.” You felt embarrassed. That was one of the first questions you were supposed to ask, but somehow you had skipped that step. Dae-ho had insisted you talk informally even though he was in the military, and you begrudgingly did so. It would be amusing if he was younger than you after all.

Dae-ho took a swig of his drink, “I’m 24.” You gasped, “really? I’m 25, that makes me your elder.” You laughed, and Dae-ho blushed.

“Yeah, I guess that does.” He said, smiling as he ate another chip.

“So how old’s your sister? How crazy three kids really is depends on your age.” You laughed.

“She’s 28.” Dae-ho said, looking down.

“Wait, that means that all of you are less than a year apart! Your poor mother.” You laughed, only stopping when you noticed Dae-ho frowning. “Oh, I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to-” “No, no it’s fine.” He said, “my dad really wanted a boy. So my mom, just- just couldn’t stop until I was born.” He looked pained, and your heart broke for both him and his mother.

“Dae-ho, I’m sorry, that must’ve been really difficult for your mother.” You reached out for his hand. It twitched, but he kept it still. Everything in Dae-ho’s nature told him to pull away, but all he wanted was to be comforted by you as tears threatened to spill out of his eyes.

He sniffled, “yeah, it really was. She had health issues for years after I was born.” You squeezed his hand, “I’m sorry, we barely know each other, I shouldn’t be crying about all my problems to you.”

“Dae-ho, it’s alright. I’m not going to judge you. If it would make you feel better, I could talk about my problems too.” You said, trying to comfort him. “You- you really don’t have to do that.” He said, wiping his eyes with the back of his jacket. He had offered to let you wear it too, over your already thick winter coat, but you refused to take away his only source of warmth.

There was a pause between the two of you, where you decided if you wanted to share or not. Dae-ho didn’t want to force you to talk, so he opened his mouth, ready to fill the silence.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m a failure.” You whispered. “I moved to Seoul with stars in my eyes or whatever they say, and so far all I’ve accomplished is a shitty dead end job. There aren’t any entry level positions for my degree open anywhere, and I just feel like my life is a boring, endless cycle.” Tears dropped from your eyes onto your jeans, “I’m really scared. What if it stays this way forever. Just being the under-achiever and the pushover who isn’t capable of making anything happen. Not interesting enough to have anyone listen to what I say.” Dae-ho squeezed your hand, interrupting you for the first time, “hey, I’m here. I’m listening. I think you’re interesting enough.” You looked up at him, and he smiled. “Who you are is enough, and you aren’t an under-achiever, or a pushover. You’re not failing, the world’s just waiting for the right time to let you live your destiny.” You smiled back at him and laughed. “Hey Dae-ho?” “Yeah?” “Can I ask you something crazy?” He smiled, and in that moment you could’ve sworn he would’ve said yes to anything. “Sure.” “Can I kiss you?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he leaned forward and kissed you. It wasn’t like all the kisses you’d seen in movies. Your tongues didn’t ‘battle for dominance,’ and you didn’t feel the burn of lust in your stomach. It felt- sweet. It felt safe. His lips were soft, and his hand was gently holding your cheek.

After a minute, he leaned back, and he blushed, “that was nice.”

You giggled as he wiped a tear off your cheek with his thumb, “yes, that was.” Right after your kiss the power came back on, “I guess it’s time to go home.”

Dae-ho picked up his trash and stood up, groaning loudly as he stretched. “Yeah, I guess it is.” You grabbed all of your things as slowly as you could, not wanting to leave Dae-ho’s side. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.” Dae-ho said as you stood outside the store, locking it with your key. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” Dae-ho turned around, looking like a sad puppy. You watched him slowly walk a couple of feet. He undoubtedly had no idea what he was doing, but he still looked miserably pitiful.

“Dae-ho?”

“Yes?” He turned around in a heartbeat, his big eyes pleading to you.

You sighed, “do you want to come and stay in my apartment? Since it’s so cold and you would have to wait for the subway?”

“Yes!” Dae-ho’s whole face lit up, and he jogged towards you with a huge smile on his face. You giggled, he was such a goofball.

You walked to your apartment slowly, due to the frigid cold. You almost slipped on ice several times. While Dae-ho was wearing heavy duty-combat boots that could grip the snow much better than your sneakers did, you still felt reassured in your decision to not let him walk home by himself. He caught you several times, and only almost slipped once, when he let out a very dramatic “ahhh,” when his left foot slipped for a half a second.

Giggling further, you felt bad when he looked at you with those big puppy eyes, but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny.” You giggled.

He glanced away, his cheeks growing redder, “okay, it’s a little bit funny.” Your apartment was a lot warmer than outside. The hallways and stairwells weren’t heated, but at least there wasn’t the constant threat of ice and the temperature wasn’t in single digits.

You weren’t sure what to expect when you got inside your apartment. Dae-ho was a gentleman, but you weren’t sure how he would interpreta girl inviting him into her apartment in the middle of the night.

The second you unlocked your door, you both took off your shoes. “Ugh, that smells awful.”

Dae-ho looked offended as he sat off the floor unlacing his other shoe. “It does not! So rude.” He apprehensively reached over to grab his boot, only to recoil in shock when he sniffed it, “Oh god. That is… That is just awful.”

You laughed heartily, your anxiety at least partially having gone away after you witnessed Dae-ho’s adorable reaction to his own shoes. He laughed too.

Your apartment was tiny. A studio room with the bedroom and living room areas divided only by a curtain. The kitchen only consisted of a single stove top and a mini-fridge. Yet, Dae-ho didn’t look uncomfortable whatsoever. In fact, he made himself at home. Right after he took off his shoes he walked over to your couch and sat down. “This is a really comfortable couch!”

For some reason, that made your giggles turn into something a bit more serious. “Thank you.” It was a really nice couch, and your favorite thing in your apartment. When a neighbor from the first floor moved out, she asked if anyone wanted a couch that “wouldn’t fit with the aesthetic of her new house,” and you gladly took her up on her offer. You had tugged it up the stairs and into your apartment. It had taken hours, and nearly a couple of broken bones. But it was a very nice couch. It was softer than any couch you had ever sat on, and when you looked it up you saw that it cost 1500 dollars. A number you found completely shocking to spend on a couch. “It is a really nice couch.”

Dae-ho didn’t seem to notice you getting emotional, “woah, and it reclines too. This is so fancy. I feel like a king!” He pushed the buttons over and over again, reclining and un-reclining several times.

He was entirely oblivious to your emotions, and you were glad. No one had ever commented on your fancy sofa. Not the few guys you had dated, not your friends, no one. But here he was, an incredibly attractive man, sitting on the couch that only he had noticed, giggling about a recline feature. His smile was infectious, and you didn’t want to bring him down. In fact, his smile made you start smiling too.

“Can I get you anything?” You said, bending over to look in your tiny fridge to see what you could grab for him. The fridge came with the apartment, and you didn’t see a reason to get a larger one. Especially since you lived so close to a store that sold almost everything you. Plus, you had an employee discount.

You turned around to see Dae-ho staring at you, and he blushed when you made eye-contact. “Just water is fine.” He muttered. You were confused for a second, just a moment ago he was acting like he lived here and now he was being shy?

Oh. Oh. You had bent over and he was staring at your ass, giving him quite a fine view. “Do you like the view?” You said teasingly.

“What? What view? Um yes.” He said flustered. You looked back at him, stifling a laugh, “I mean. No, no of course not. I- I would never.”

“Oh, so you don’t like the view of the skyline.” You gestured towards the window that was slightly visible past the half-drawn curtain separating the room into two.

“Oh! I love that view. Yes, of course.” He sat in silence for a moment, before finally understanding, “you’re messing with me, aren’t you.”

You giggled, walking over to him and handing him a glass of water. “Bingo.” As you sat down next to him on the couch the room grew quiet. You moved closer to one another unconsciously, and Dae-ho stopped when he was a few inches away from your face. You could feel his breath on your lips “(Y/n), can I kiss you. Again.”

You nodded, and he closed the distance between you. This kiss was just as good as the first, and entirely different. It was passionate, and his tongue explored your mouth. He kissed you like you were the air he needed to survive. You had never been that good at kissing, never finding it natural or comfortable. But with him, kissing was like breathing.

You and Dae-ho made out on the couch like teenagers for at least an hour. You stopped to make jokes, and talk about various things. But even after all that, you were still nervous. Although you really liked Dae-ho, you didn’t want to sleep with him right now. You weren’t even dating, and that was a boundary you didn’t feel like crossing until far deeper in the relationship.

You trusted Dae-ho, and knew that if you said no he wouldn’t push it, but you didn’t want to make things awkward. What if he left? What if he wasn’t interested any more? A lot of guys you had dated had been turned off by you not wanting to sleep with them. You couldn’t explain why you wanted to wait until you had been together longer. You weren’t opposed to sex before marriage, and you didn’t have any special desire to be a virginal bride. But that trust took a long time to build, and you hadn’t been in a relationship with someone you liked enough to date for longer than a few months. That was why it just hadn’t happened yet. A guy who got pissed you wouldn’t sleep with them was not someone you wanted to have sex with, and certainly not someone you wanted to marry, or really date for any longer than 30 seconds after they said that.

While you were taking a water break from cuddling on the couch, Dae-ho finally asked the dreaded question. “Do you want to sleep with me?” He sounded a little bit nervous and bashful, but knowing him he meant it. Dae-ho had a dislike for lying, something he had told you that stemmed from the trauma of not realizing that Santa Claus wasn’t real well into his teens.

Your whole body froze up. Another thousand questions ran through your head. What if he gets embarrassed and leaves? Or what if you were a complete idiot and he was like all those other guys. “I’m sorry, I really don’t want to. It’s just I’ve been waiting until I’m in a long term relationship and I know we’re going to-” Dae-ho interrupts you, “Okay.”

Wait, what. “Okay?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of water, “Okay. I don’t mind. I think we have a very important conversation about our favorite types of soup to get back to anyways.” You were flabbergasted. For some reason you hadn’t thought that anyone actually wouldn’t care. But here he was, not trying to push you any further. Not only was he not pushing about sex, but he wasn’t pressuring you into talking about your reasoning.

“Ye- yes. Yes we do.”

You stayed up until the sun had almost risen, talking about if stew was only stew if it had meat in it, if Santa’s Sleigh could really fly, and other random things from your lives.

Dae-ho finally started falling asleep, even though he was doing his best to hide it. After his eyes closed for far longer than the length of a blink, you giggled and put a stop to it. “Dae-ho, I’m really tired. Is it alright if we go to bed.”

Dae-ho’s eyes lit up. He clearly didn’t want to admit that he needed to sleep, so you gladly took that burden off his shoulders. “Yeah, sure, if you’re tired.” He kissed you gently on the forehead, and leaned back on the recliner, “goodnight (y/n).”

“Goodnight Dae-ho.”

In 30 seconds he was asleep.

You were wrong. It didn’t take a long time to build a deep level of trust with someone. Dae-ho said I love you on your third date, and you did on your fifth. You were living together in four months, and he proposed in six. You decided to wait until you got married to sleep with him. You wanted to feel completely and utterly whole on your wedding day, and having two moments that you considered important life events in one of the most important days of your life felt so perfect.

Dae-ho had slept with a couple of girls before, but he didn’t mind waiting at all. In fact, when you told him the reason you wanted to wait, he smiled a big smile and kissed you, “that is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said!”

Meeting his parents shortly after your engagement was the most difficult part of your relationship so far. His father was a quiet man. He sat cross legged on the low table you were sitting at, silently staring at you and Dae-ho while his mother brought out countless dishes one by one. You had met all of his sisters very early on in your relationship, so this was a dinner with just the four of you.

“So, I see you and Dae-ho are going to get married.” It was a statement of fact. You were quickly learning that Dae-ho’s father took everything seriously.

“Yes sir.” Dae-ho addressed his father. You knew they had a very strained relationship. Dae-ho always felt overwhelmed by his father’s militaristic personality and masculine persona, but never confronted him about it to try and avoid dragging his mother into whatever argument would ensue.

However, you weren’t expecting him to call his father sir. The same title he called all his superiors in the army.

“You will have the wedding in the church down the street.” Again, no question. Dae-ho fidgeted on the floor, a tell-tale sign he was uncomfortable. You squeezed his hand.

“We were actually looking at a few venues. There was one in a botanical garden that Dae-ho was especially…” Your sentence trailed off. Both men stared at you intensely. Dae-ho’s father like he was offended you were speaking, and Dae-ho with an increasingly uncomfortable look.

It was his turn to squeeze your hand. “The church is really nice. We can get married there.” He said quietly. He didn’t want to get married in the church. He wanted to get married in the botanical garden. But you could tell this was not an issue he wanted to approach with his father, so you let it be.

You plastered on a fake smile, “church it is!”

His mother came into the living room, with a smile the exact same as Dae-ho’s on her face. “Alright, the food is ready!”

His father immediately started grabbing food, not hesitating for a moment. “This is too salty.” He said the moment he took a bite.

Her face fell, “oh, I’m sorry.”

You reached for the same dish he had rejected, and put some on your plate before taking a large bite. “Mm, this is delicious Mrs. Kang.”

Her face lit up, “thank you so much!” Dae-ho’s father scowled at her, and her smile depleted. “I appreciate you being kind about it.”

Their family dynamics were playing out in front of your eyes. Dae-ho’s father was the boss. And everyone else had to obey him. The rest of the dinner played out in similar fashion, whenever anyone expressed an opinion differing from the family’s patriarch’s, it would get very quiet. Then, finally, he would start the conversation up again. You were the one who spoke ‘out of line’ the most. Dae-ho and his mother were far more practiced at deferring to him. After a delicious dinner, Dae-ho’s father stood up, “I think the men should go talk, the women can stay here and clean up.” Your stomach turned. You were liking this man less and less each time he opened his mouth.

Dae-ho was quiet, and followed his dad out of the room, into what you assumed was his dad’s ‘man cave.’

The second they left, his mother’s personality did a complete 180. A smile you hadn’t seen since she first entered the room spread across her face, and she asked a flurry of questions. “How old are you? Where are you from? How did you and my Dae-ho meet?” You quickly saw that Dae-ho took after his mother. Not only were they a splitting image of each other due to their enthusiastic smiles, but their bubbly personalities matched. You answered every question that she asked enthusiastically, and asked many of your own in return. As the conversation went on you finished packing away all the food and washing the dishes, and moved to sit at the table with a hot cup of tea that she had made from herbs in the garden.

She got quiet, and looked at you, “You know, my Dae-ho, he’s not like a lot of boys. He’s a marine, of course and he’s very strong, but…” She paused, taking a sip of her tea, “he’s soft. Not- not in a bad way, at least I don’t think so. But, he needs to be taken care of.’

“Not in the way I take care of my husband, with the chores and children,” she laughed, but it lacked enthusiasm , “But, more, in the way a man takes care of a woman.”

You knew exactly what she meant. You didn’t agree with the phrasing. It was clearly the mentality of the older generation, one that her father and husband likely drilled into her, but you understood. Dae-ho needed someone to treat him gently, the way he treated you. The way couples were supposed to treat each other.

She was saying that he was not like her husband, and that your relationship should not be like hers.

You reached for her hand and squeezed it, “I know. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of eachother.”

She smiled, and then the men came back in. Dae-ho’s father was acting like his usual self, and Dae-ho looked even more uncomfortable than he did before, if that was possible.

His father slapped him on the back, and said “we’ll do this again.”

You turned back to his mother, and you saw that a little bit of her spark had left when her husband came back into the room. You left quickly, without lingering in the apartment, and walked into the warm air of the summer night.

Dae-ho was quiet as you walked to your car. Once he stepped into the driver's seat (something you didn’t expect as you usually drove), he slumped over.

“Dae-ho, what’s wrong? Did your father say something to you?” You rubbed your hand over his back and felt his shoulders shake.

He sat up, and you could see tears running down his face, “I’m not going to be like him. I swear to you. You and our children will never have the same life as me and my mother.”

His face was red, and he was wetting his t-shirt with tears that had already dripped off his face, “Dae-ho, what happened?”

You reached towards his face and ran your thumb on his cheek, doing your best to wipe away his tears. He reached his hand up and gently held your wrist, not moving your hand away from his face.

“He- he told me I needed to learn how to be the man in the relationship. That I was weak, and that I- I-” You wiped away another tear, “I needed to put you in your place.”

Your heart broke. You had ideas of what had happened in Dae-ho’s childhood. Scars that you knew didn’t come from the Marines. Times when he took a long time in the shower, where you could hear cries just barely over the sound of the water.

He reached up and gently held onto your face, staring in your eyes as he cried “I swear to you, I will always keep you safe. We are going to be happy, and I will never let anyone hurt you or the family we’re going to have. I promise”

You nodded, and stroked his cheek again, “I know Dae-ho, you are nothing like him.”

He leaned in and kissed you, lightly, as tears streamed out of his eyes.

You got married in the church, on a cold day almost exactly a year from when you got trapped in the store in a snowstorm. Your wedding was huge, and while it wasn’t exactly what you had wanted, it was still a wonderful day. Although more than half the guests were his father’s friends and colleagues, more than enough of your friends came to celebrate the both of you.

During your engagement you had planned more than just a wedding, you planned out the next 10 or so years. You had been an obsessive planner since you were younger. It relieved your anxiety to have a path to walk on. If you saved for the next year and a half you could afford a small house on the outskirts of Seoul, it was in a military housing neighborhood for Veterans and active duty service members who had served 10 or more years. Dae-ho entered the military when he was 18, so he only had three years left until his second five-year contract expired, when he would be discharged.

After you moved into your house you would start trying to have a baby. You spent long nights talking to each other about your future. When you first seriously talked about kids Dae-ho’s whole face lit up.

“You really want to have kids. Little babies that are half you and half me.” You were laying on your back on the bed, with your head slightly propped up by a pillow, and Dae-ho was laying on his stomach, resting his head on your chest between your boobs.

“Yes Dae-ho, I thought we had already talked about this!” You giggled, twirling a short piece of hair around your finger. He grew his hair out a little bit, it was still short, but it wasn’t buzzed anymore. “Of course I want to have kids with you.”

“I just thought- I kind of thought that you weren’t sure, and were just agreeing to make me happy.” He said quietly into your chest.

“Dae-ho, that’s crazy. You know I wouldn’t lie to you, especially about something as important as that.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I think I just pushed the anxiety of the thought that you were lying deep down so I didn’t have to deal with it. I was just scared. Because of…” He took a deep breath against your t-shirt, breathing in your smell to comfort himself, “after you met my dad I was scared you wouldn’t want to have kids with me. I know- I know you said I was nothing like him, but I was still nervous.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and gently tilted his head back to make eye contact, “Dae-ho, I need you to listen to me. I want to have a family with you, because I love you. When I look at you I don’t see your father’s son, I see you. I see Kang Dae-ho, the man I love, the man I choose to be with because I know how kind and gentle and loving he is.”

Dae-ho smiled, and a tear tracked down his cheek. You whispered, “so, of course I want to have a bunch of mini-yous running around.”

You hadn’t decided how many kids you wanted, knowing that no matter what you decided on now would likely change once you had a couple of little ones running around. You decided to have at least two, a boy and a girl. Even though you knew the genders weren’t something you could control at all.

Your wedding day was fantastic. Although his father only smiled when there was a camera in his face, and two of Dae-ho’s sisters’ kids threw up, it was wonderful.

And your wedding night was exactly what you had been dreaming about too. Dae-ho was kind, and soft, and gentle. You had still been scared, so much pressure was put on the moment to be perfect. And, it was as close to perfect as it could be. It was romantic, and you felt closer to another human being than you had ever before.

There were several bouts of laughter whenever Dae-ho would make a joke to relieve the tension. Dae-ho started crying at one point, and it made you cry too. There was so much love in this moment that it overflowed and formed tears from the both of you.

You had almost saved up enough money to buy a house when Dae-ho got a call. It had taken you longer than you had expected to save up money. You were desperately looking for a job in your field, and while you were looking you got fired from the convenience store. Your boss’ son had gotten to the age where he started working, and they needed to save money. Although you weren’t happy about it, there was nothing you could do.

After spending a month applying to any and every position you could find, nothing worked out. So, you had to go back to working at another small corner store, unfortunately, this time with less pay. It had been two years since your wedding, when Dae-ho came home excited. He was going on a trip to the countryside with his company, helping train new conscripts.

He left the next week, kissing your forehead before rushing out the door. You giggled, he acted like he was going on vacation, instead of going to a work event.

The first half of the week was normal. Dae-ho called every evening, and he dropped his voice several octaves each time. You could tell that members of his squad were always around him whenever talked louder and acted more macho on the phone.

It was late on Thursday night when you heard someone knocking at your door. You were confused as to what it could be, maybe one of your neighbors needed help with something?

You looked through the peephole, surprised to see a man standing in a formal military uniform in the hallway. You opened it quickly, not bothering to fix your disheveled appearance.

“Are you Mrs. Kang?”

You rubbed your eyes with your hand, confused. “Yes. What is it?” “I’m here to inform you there’s been an incident involving your husband. We’ll need you to come with us.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, “what incident? What happened?” Dae-ho was at a training camp. He was supposed to be safe. What was happening.

“There was a shooting incident at the base, he is injured, but in stable condition. We will take you to the hospital as soon as possible. It’s best for him to have a family member with him at this time.”

“Okay, let me go change really quick.” You paused, looking up at the soldier, “Do you want to come in?” He shook his head, “No thank you ma’am.” You were still in shock. You weren’t fully conscious of what your body was doing as you changed and grabbed the necessities, a toothbrush, change of clothes, and all of you and Dae-ho’s medical information.

The car ride to the airport felt fuzzy, the soldier sitting next to you not saying anything as another man drove. The airplane was more surreal. You didn’t fly very often, travelling outside of Korea was a luxury you couldn’t afford. And whenever you travelled within Korea the train’s cheaper price point far outweighed the longer time it took to travel.

It started to sink in that something very bad had happened to your husband, and the thought itself felt like your heart was being squeezed in a vice grip.

The world still felt blurry until you finally arrived at the hospital. There was a vivid sunrise in the sky over the hospital, and you could hear birds singing.

The haze only completely stopped when you were guided to his hall, and a doctor approached you. “Hello, are you Mr. Kang Dae-ho’s wife.”

“Yes, yes I am.” You snapped into focus, a complete 180 from the past couple of hours. “Your husband is alright. There was a shooting on the base and in the chaos your husband was pushed down the stairs and fell onto a table.”

You let out a sigh of relief. In the back of your mind there had been a fear that your husband was critically injured, even though the soldier had informed you that he was stable. “He received injuries to his leg, back, and groin area. We don’t perceive any long term damage, however we will be monitoring him for the next couple of days.” “Can I see my husband?” The doctor had said all you needed him to say. Whatever else happened, the only person you wanted to hear it from was Dae-ho. You needed to be there by his side, to take care of him the way you had promised his mother you would.

“Yes, of course.”

The doctor led you down the hall, and opened Dae-ho’s door. He was awake and staring out the window from his hospital bed.

“Dae-ho!” You rushed towards him.

The look on his face confused you. He almost looked guilty. “What’s wrong?”

He chuckled, the laugh sounding forced, “I fell down the stairs, I’m gonna look a little weird for a while.” He smiled at you, but you didn’t believe it’s genuinity for a second.

You backed away from him to close the door, and then walked back to sit at his bedside. “Dae-ho, please don’t lie to me. Tell me what happened.” He looked away, and sniffled, wiping his hand under his nose to brush over it, “it’s nothing, really.”

You grabbed the other hand and squeezed it, “okay. Then tell me what it is about this ‘nothing’ that’s making you upset. I promise, no matter what it is, I’ll be here for you.”

He got quiet, and whispered, “I couldn’t help.” He sniffled again. “I woke up to the sound of gunshots, and I was running towards them. For once in my life I wasn’t being a coward. But when I reached the stairs to help, someone brushed my arm, and I fell. The person ran past me and out the door, away from the gunshots. I- I couldn’t do anything.”

You squeezed his hand again, “it was dark, and all I could hear was the sounds of bullets. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything. I thought they would come and shoot me. The one time I try to do something right, the one time I try to be a real man, I fail. I failed those people, and all I could think was that I was going to die. I wanted to run, I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t move. My legs would probably work, but I was just too scared. I’m a coward”

He was crying, tears ran down his face, “Dae-ho, that wasn’t your fault. You were scared, you did what anyone else in your situation would do, no matter who they are.” You reached forward, and wiped some of the tears off his cheek.

“In the dark, I feel- I feel the same way I did. When they closed the curtains earlier today to let me sleep I was terrified. I heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and I wanted to run. And then the shame for wanting to run came. But I was scared. I couldn’t make myself sleep. I was so scared (y/n), I’m so sorry, I was scared, I was sca-”

You interrupted him, “Dae-ho, please don’t do this to yourself.”

He sighed, “I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You leaned in, and laid on his chest the way he usually lays on you, “Dae-ho, please don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll tell you what, I’ll lay right here, and I’ll wake you up if I need any help. I promise you, nothing bad will happen while you sleep. ”

He nodded, even though you could still hear sniffling. It took him longer than usual to get to sleep. Usually within a minute it was lights out, but you could still hear the sound of quiet sobs for at least half an hour after you rested on his chest. You didn’t say anything, you knew that all he needed right now was presence, and to rest.

The next year was difficult. You decided to place your plans on hold to help Dae-ho heal. Nights were especially hard, you would wrap yourselves around one another for comfort. Dae-ho got quieter, and it was hard for him to be out in public. Everything was too loud.

You realized very quickly that the two things he found most difficult were the dark, and loud noises. After his company briefly tried to put him back into the position he had before, they discovered that he was incapable of doing it. The first time there was a shooting drill Dae-ho panicked and ran away. They found him in a closet crying. He had come home guilty, and you held him as he cried because of the fear and shame that you couldn’t take away no matter how hard you tried

His superiors switched him to a desk job. Although Dae-ho felt ashamed, you had to admit that it suited him better.

You moved into your new house after Dae-ho was officially discharged. He got a job at a small office run by another Marine veteran, and his hiring bonus was just enough for the down payment.

Although a lot of things had gone wrong in the last year, you settled into a life of normalcy. You got a job working for a fruit vendor at a local market, and were able to walk to and from work every day. The pay was just as terrible as before, but the hours allowed both you and Dae-ho to be home by 5 every day.

“Honey, I’m home!” Dae-ho said in English. ever since you had watched several 90s sitcoms, Dae-ho became obsessed with the cheesy line and said it every time he came home from work.

“I’m in the kitchen!” You called out, stirring a pot of soup you had made.

“Wow, it smells fantastic.” He said, walking up to you and kissing your cheek as he looked down at the pot. “You really didn’t have to do this, I know you must be exhausted.”

“I know, I just thought we should have an extra nice meal tonight.” Dae-ho raised an eyebrow, “why tonight specifically?”

You looked down at your feet, nervous, “well, I was thinking…” You looked back up at him, “I think it’s time to start trying for a baby.”

There was silence in the room for a moment. You knew Dae-ho wanted kids, but growing anxiety brewed in your stomach that maybe he wasn’t ready, or maybe the incident had changed his mind.

All that doubt was squashed when Dae-ho’s face erupted into the largest smile you had ever seen. He picked you up in both of his arms and started shouting “Yes, yes, yes! I’ve been waiting for this!”

He peppered kisses all over your face, and laughed heartily, “what do you mean you’ve been waiting for me?” You giggled, realizing that there wasn’t a hesitant bone in his body.

“Well, I mean that it’s your body. I didn’t want to pressure you. I figured that you would ask when you were ready.” The sentiment warmed your heart, and even though you didn’t think it was possible, made you even more sure you wanted this man to be the father of your child.

You kissed his forehead, “that might have been the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.” Dae-ho kissed you on the lips, and started walking towards the bedroom with you still in his arms. “Dae-ho! My soup.”

He pouted, but put you down. “After dinner.” You said, giggling.

“After a delicious dinner, I’ll have an even tastier treat.” You laughed, hitting him on the arm.

“Dae-ho, your mind is so dirty!” He laughed in response.

Your dinner was as delicious as you knew it would be, and your night was even better.

Planning was your strong suit. You had researched everything that would increase your chances at having a baby. You knew what you could, and couldn’t afford. Your budget fit raising kids, but there was no way you could afford IVF or any expensive medication anytime soon. You got a bunch of vitamins for the both of you, strictly tracked your ovulation cycle, and made a list of things you and Dae-ho couldn’t do to increase your chances of conceiving. No drinking, no eating certain foods, and an hour of exercise every day. You begrudged the lists. You only did all the things to increase your chances, but Dae-ho did everything enthusiastically. He was excited to take all the vitamins and eat all the special foods, and go on the nightly runs you had decided to do together after dinner. To him, it was another part of the exciting process of having a baby. To you, it was the torture you had to endure to get the greatest reward.

A lot of couples got pregnant quickly after trying. The year anniversary of the day you started trying, you started to get nervous. A year was abnormal

“Dae-ho, do you think something is wrong?” You asked him as you laid in bed one night.

“No, these things happen. It just takes longer for some people than others.” He kissed your shoulder as you spooned, and quickly went back to sleep. You stayed up longer, fearful about the possibility that something could be wrong.

A year and a half is when Dae-ho started to get anxious too. He did his best to hide it from you, but there were moments where you could feel his worry lingering in the air. Dae-ho’s sleep had gotten better. He would have nightmares, but he never had any trouble falling asleep. That changed when he started to worry about why you weren’t pregnant yet. He would hold you tight to his chest in the middle of the night, and you could hear his steady breathing for a much longer time than usual while you tried to fall asleep.

After two years, you made an appointment with a fertility doctor. It was expensive, so you wanted to postpone spending a lot of money on doctors as long as possible, but it became unavoidable. Whenever you had dinner with Dae-ho’s family you would both stare sadly at all of the nieces and nephews running around.

Both of his parents would poke and prod and ask you when you were having kids. His mother in a kind, empathetic way, asking you dozens of probing details in her excitement of being a grandma again. As soon as you started trying for a baby, Dae-ho called her. He was giddy and excited on the phone, and they were both deeply enthusiastic.

His father was different, and he got worse the longer it had been since you had started trying. He blamed Dae-ho for the fact that you didn’t have kids yet. He would always demand to know if you were pregnant yet. And Dae-ho would be forced to say that no, you weren’t. He would then call Dae-ho weak and tell him that he needed to “do better,” even though you being pregnant or not wasn’t something either of you had any control over once you had started doing everything you needed to to increase your chances..

But the biggest reason for you going to the fertility doctor, was that you both just really wanted to have kids. You would rub your belly absentmindedly during the day, and Dae-ho would quickly glance away each time you caught him looking. Your house was the same as it always had been, but with each negative pregnancy test it felt emptier. Quiet with the lack of pitter-patters from children’s little feet on the wooden floors.

You made an appointment early in the morning on Monday, before either of your shifts started. Dae-ho rested his hand on your thigh as you sat in the waiting room, his knee bouncing up and down at a rapid pace. “Dae-ho, it’s going to be okay.” You said, trying to convince yourself as well.

He smiled back at you, but you could see that you both had the same anxiety, “I know.”

They called your name, and you went into a middle-aged doctor’s office. “Hello, my name is Dr. Kim. Can I get a complete history from both of you.”

She had your medical files in front of her, and asked a dozen other questions to fill in any gaps. How often you had sex, what vitamins you were taking, what your diet was.

“Well, you’re doing what you're supposed to, the next step is to do some tests to see if there are any medical reasons you haven’t successfully conceived yet.” She confirmed what you already knew, you were doing everything right. In the back of your mind you had hoped that you had missed something. You were taking the wrong vitamins, or eating the wrong foods. “And how long have you said you’ve been trying to get pregnant?” “Two years.” You said quietly.

She continued to tap on her keyboard, “it is possible that you’ve just been unlucky, and that there is nothing unusual medically. However, two years of trying without conceiving is abnormal, so these tests will be necessary to give us a comprehensive view of any factors contributing to your unsuccessful attempts at conception.’

“Mr. Kang, we will need you to give a sperm sample. A sperm sample is the only test needed to rule out male infertility. Mrs. Kang, there are several tests we need to do to see if there is anything on your part preventing you from getting pregnant. Today we will get a blood sample, and schedule other tests today for later if neither of your results have any abnormalities.”

You nodded. The entire situation was deeply uncomfortable. You didn’t want this to be part of your journey to parenthood, you wanted to be like everyone else. Romantic, and in a warmly lit bedroom instead of in a white doctor’s office.

“What do I need to do for a sperm sample?”

The doctor looked slightly confused, “well, we have a special room with some… material… to help you ejaculate into a cup. Then we send the sample to our lab to run tests, like sperm count and sperm quality.”

Dae-ho tilted his head like a confused puppy, “what do you mean by material?”

She looked incredibly uncomfortable, but you could tell that Dae-ho was truly confused and not trying to put the doctor in an awkward position. You grasped his arm, “she means porn, Honey.”

Dae-ho’s jaw dropped and he shook his head “Oh no, I don’t need any porn, I have my wife.”

The doctor quickly interjected, “sir, your wife cannot come with you.”

Dae-ho blushed, “oh yeah, of course sorry.”

The whole situation was almost amusing. The doctor’s panicked face and Dae-ho’s embarrassed expression. But you didn’t have the energy to find it funny, you were too scared.

Dae-ho left for his tests, but stopped to kiss you before he left. “Goodluck, I love you.” You smiled, “You’ve got this Dae-ho, I love you too.”

The week after your doctor’s appointment was normal . You went to work, came home, then ate dinner together and fell asleep in bed next to one another. But there was anxiety under the surface. There were more silent pauses where both of you were too preoccupied with your thoughts to say anything, and you both stayed awake long after you turned off the lights in bed. Dae-ho slept with his hand on your stomach, and his hand was clammy with the same fear you were feeling.

You got a call on Friday afternoon, “Mr. and Mrs. Kang, could we schedule a meeting next week to go over your test results?” “Yes, the doctor said we should schedule some more tests, can I do that now?”

There was a pause on the other line, “Dr. Kim doesn’t think that is necessary at this time.”

Your heart dropped. They had found something wrong. You knew it. That was the only reason they didn’t need to test anything else. They had already found the problem.

Dae-ho came home half an hour later, and you were laying in bed on your side with the curtains drawn, crying. “Honey, I’m home!”

You couldn’t call out to him. You knew the statistics, it was almost always the woman’s. You were too ashamed to face him, knowing that you were the reason you and Dae-ho couldn’t have the one thing you wanted more than anything else in the world- a family.

“(Y/n)! Where are you?”

Dae-ho rushed through your small house, desperately looking for you everywhere. You heard the footsteps stop when he reached the bedroom. He was standing in the doorway when he saw your figure laying in bed. “(Y/n), what’s wrong.” He quietly approached you, walking around the bed to kneel down in front of you, reaching up to gently wipe your tears away.

“I- I got a call from the doctor. They got the results back and wanted to set up an appointment.” His face looked concerned, but he stayed quiet as he waited for you to continue, “I think- I think somethings wrong with me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I failed you.”

The tears started to come stronger. You felt like you couldn’t do anything right. You couldn’t get a job, couldn’t fix your husband’s trauma, and now you couldn’t do the thing you were made for as a woman.

“(Y/n), look at me,” he stroked your hair out of your eyes, “this is not your fault. We don’t know yet, and even if there is something about your body that makes it hard to have a baby, it isn’t your fault. It’s not something you have any control over. It’ll be okay, I promise. I love you.”

He kissed you gently on your forehead. You could tell that he was also hurt by the reality that there was likely something stopping you from being able to get pregnant, but instead he focused on you. It was so sweet, and so very Dae-ho.

He made you dinner, and you ate in bed before going to sleep with your arms wrapped around one another.

Your appointment was at the same time as the one last week. You were glad they could fit you in so early, as the anticipation was killing you. You nervously entered into Dr. Kim’s office, where she was sitting with papers in front of her that you could only assume were test results.

There was no beating around the bush. Once you sat down, Dr. Kim began to talk. “I’m glad that you were available so soon. I have looked over both of your results.”

You and Dae-ho squeezed each other's hands, hoping and praying for good news.

“Mrs. Kang, I have looked over your results and I’ve found nothing abnormal with your bloodwork.” You let out a sigh of relief.

She turned to look at Dae-ho, “I looked over your past medical history, Mr. Kang, and I noticed that 3 years ago you sustained an injury to your groin while you were in the military.” You Dae-ho’s hand gripped yours tighter, and your breath sped up. “Your sperm count was very low, and I believe that your past injury may have caused or contributed to that.”

You listened intently to the doctor, but Dae-ho was completely unaware of anything else she was saying. He was solely focusing on how it was his fault, and that he was the reason your dreams couldn’t come true.

“Of course we’ll need to do some testing, but this is the most likely conclusion considering that you have had a normal sex life and no other symptoms. I’ll write a referral to the urologist, and I suggest you go in for a consultation.” She wrote on a slip of a paper, and handed you a physical copy of the referral.

“Thank you, Dr. Kim.” You didn’t know what else to say. Dae-ho wasn’t responding, he was staring off into the distance, and you had to lead him out of the room.

Before you exited the room, Dr. Kim spoke up, “Mr and Mrs Kang?”

Dae-ho stayed facing forward, but you turned to face the doctor, “I truly am sorry, and I wish you the best.”

You nodded, and left, leading Dae-ho out beside you. Dae-ho didn’t respond during the ride home. You didn’t talk to him. Nothing you could say would make him feel better, you just needed to get home and then maybe you would be able to comfort each other.

Dae-ho walked to the bathroom as soon as you got home. You didn’t stop him, and sat down on the couch staring into space.

You heard crashing from the bathroom, and ran in to see Dae-ho throwing the vitamin bottles on the ground. “It’s bullshit, it’s all bullshit!”

The next bottle he threw down was glass, and it shattered into a million little pieces on the ground, “Dae-ho, stop!” You grabbed his arm to stop him from throwing another bottle. That seemed to snap him out of his daze.

He started crying, and you pulled his head down to nuzzle into your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, and started stroking his back. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault.” You quietly shushed him, and ran your fingers through his hair. “Shh, Shh, it’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is,” he sobbed, “I was the one who couldn’t do anything, I’m a fucking marine and I got pushed down the stairs and laid there like a coward. I’m the one whose fault it is that we can't have a baby.”

“Dae-ho, we don’t know anything for sure. We’ll go to the urologist and see if they can help us.” You gently pulled his head back to look into his eyes, the same way he did when you thought it was your body causing your infertility, “but even if we can’t have kids, I want you to know that this isn’t on you. Everything you said to me, about how it isn’t my fault and how no matter what it’ll be okay, is true.”

The sad look in his eyes showed that he didn’t believe you. You sighed, “let’s get out of here, you should go lay in bed and I’ll make us something to eat. Be careful when you step, I’ll clean up the glass in a second.” Dae-ho pulled away, “no, I failed as a father, I will not fail as a husband. I’ll take care of it.” You grabbed his shoulders when he tried to move away, “listen to me. The only difference between us is the name “husband” versus the name “wife.” Our job is to take care of each other. When I need you, you take care of me. And now, it’s my turn to return the favor.”

He nodded apprehensively. You could tell that he had some hold-ups, but he didn’t argue with you. You both knew this about your marriage, but everything his father had told him was hard to deprogram.

You made a stew, and cleaned up the glass while it was simmering. Before you entered your bedroom, you heard Dae-ho talking. You stopped outside the door.

“I promise you, it will all be okay. Your daddy is going to make sure you will get to see this whole beautiful world.” Concerned, you opened the door. Dae-ho was sitting in the bed holding a onesie that his mother had given him after you told her you had started trying.

“Hey.” You said, walking towards him and handing him the bowl.

“Hey.”

He ate a spoonful of the soup and then took a deep breath, “I’m so sorry that I messed up our plans.”

“Dae-ho-” You interrupted, but he held up his hand to signify that he wanted to finish his thought.

“I know you don’t blame me. But I can’t help the way I feel. I know- I know everything you’re going to say and everything you’re thinking, and I’m sorry but I- I just can’t believe you right now. I’ll only be able to when we have everything figured out. I’m sorry, that's just- that’s just what I need.”

Your heart broke, but you knew his words to be true. There was nothing you could say to change how he felt. “Okay. But if you know what I’m thinking, then you know that I mean it when I tell you that everything is going to be alright. I promise you I would never lie to you Dae-ho.”

He smiled at you, with tears still glimmering in his eyes, “okay, I believe you.”

Dae-ho scheduled an appointment in the afternoon later in the week. It was in the middle of the work day, but it was either that or waiting over a month. “I’ll take off work to go with you.”

“(Y/n), it’s fine. I promise.”

You objected again, talking with your mouthful as you ate a bite of oatmeal, “Dae-ho really, it’s okay.”

He paused, and looked at you, “to be honest, I want to do this by myself. I just- I don’t think I can take it if there’s something seriously wrong and you’re there. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I got bad news and had to look at you, I think it would kill me.”

You were silent, “okay, but if you need me, please, please just call.”

He reached over and squeezed your hand, “of course. You trust me, right?”

You squeezed his hand back, completely sure of what you were about to say, “always.”

Dae-ho didn’t call you during the day, but you called him several times. You were beginning to get worried, and told your boss that you had to leave early. She understood, and the second she said you could go, you ran towards your house.

You weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe an empty house, maybe an emptied liquor cabinet if there was bad news. What you weren’t expecting was for Dae-ho to be sitting cross legged on the ground in front of your table, with papers completely covering the wood.

“Dae-ho what’s going on? I was terrified!” You plunked your bag down on the ground.

He looked up at you, surprised to see you, “(Y/n), what’re you doing home?” “I’m only home an hour early. Did you not see my calls? I’ve been trying to reach you all day!” You said, exasperated but relieved to see he was okay.

He reached down to look at his phone, and then looked back up at you guiltily. He said quietly, “oh, sorry. I’ve been so focused I didn’t realize.”

You sat down next to him, looking over the papers to try and make sense of what they were.

Before you could understand, he grabbed your shoulders to turn you to face him. “I did all the tests, and- and it’s a lot of news.” You were concerned, he didn’t usually react like when he found out important things. And he certainly didn’t react like after your last visit to the fertility doctor. “They can fix it. We can have a baby!”

Your eyes lit up, and without realizing it happy tears began to leak out of your eyes. Before you could fully celebrate you had to stop yourself. “But then, what is this?”

“It’s expensive, it’s really expensive. But I- I did all the math and I think- I think we can do it.”

There were so many emotions swirling around in your head. Fear of the cost, fear of the future, but Dae-ho brought you back down to earth. “I know, I know. But (Y/n), it’ll be okay.”

You believed him, you would always believe him.

He smiled a big smile you hadn’t seen in a long smile, and he quickly pulled you into a hug. He pressed kisses all over your head, and finally, finally you allowed yourself to feel completely hopeful again.

You did another set of tests to make sure that you didn’t have any conditions yourself that would affect your fertility. Sure enough, all of your results came back squeaky clean.

Dae-ho’s treatment was going to cost a lot. The initial appointments you two had scheduled had cost over a thousand dollars.

Dae-ho’s surgery was over 10 thousand dollars. Your mortgage was high, and since it was still the early years of owning your house you wanted to pay as much as possible before interest tripled the original cost of your house. The conclusion that you reached was that you could afford the surgery in two years.

It was a bittersweet feeling, on one hand you were heartbroken that you had to wait longer, but a finish line made the pain easier. Finally, there was certainty. You circled the day when you would schedule the surgery for, and every morning you would look at the calendar to remind yourself what you were working so hard for.

Your house didn’t feel so empty anymore. The silence was still hard to deal with sometimes, but you and Dae-ho busied yourselves with buying baby clothes, and picking out things for the nursery. Both of you were happier, even though you could tell that Dae-ho still had a lingering guilt because of his condition.

In the week before the surgery you felt yourself buzzing with excitement. It felt like you were walking on air. Dae-ho was so enthusiastic that every day when he came home he would run to you, swoop you up in his arms and laugh as he kissed your face. It became the highlight of your day.

Most of the time people were nervous on the morning of a surgery. But not you and Dae-ho. The drive to the clinic was filled with laughter and loud music. Everything was finally going according to plan.

Right before Dae-ho went into surgery pulled you into a hug and whispered into your ear, “this is it, the rest of our life starts now.”

You squeezed him in the hug and smiled, and he waved goodbye as he walked into the room where he would get prepped for surgery. The longer he was in the operating room, the more nervous you got. You knew that the surgery would probably take an hour or an hour and a half, but as the time approached and passed that mark your anxiety grew. Finally, after two hours, the doctor came back.

You stood up excitedly, ready to hear the good news.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Kang, the damage was more extensive than we initially thought. We weren’t able to perform the surgery.” Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t handle this. You had kept it in for so long, had done everything right, had waited patiently only to have it end with even more bad news.

You couldn’t stop yourself. You ran over to the trash can and threw up your breakfast, overwhelmed with the grief of your hopes and dreams yet again being crushed.

Sitting in the waiting room, you felt broken. Your cheeks were wet and all you could do was stare straight ahead as you waited for them to bring Dae-ho out of surgery. It was an outpatient surgery, which meant that he would go home after. You were glad at first, because it would save money, but now you were dreading having to go back to the empty house together. You didn’t want him to see your pain and think for even a second that you blamed him.

Dae-ho was wheeled out, and you felt another piece of your heart break off when you saw the look on his face. “Dae-ho.”

He looked up at you with his big puppy-dog eyes, “Let’s go home. Can we please just go home.”

You were growing accustomed to heartbroken silent drives. Dae-ho made to leave the car when you got home, but you locked the door. You couldn’t deal with either of you having a breakdown once you were inside your house.

“Can we talk, please?” You begged.

“I’m sorry. I just- I had so much hope that this nightmare would be over, but it just keeps going.”

You looked over at him. “It’s not over. We’re not done. Please don’t give up. Please. It’ll be okay, I promise.” You pleaded.

Dae-ho finally looked back over to you, “okay. Okay.” He took a deep shaky breath, “we’ll keep trying. The Kangs aren’t quitters.” He said with a light chuckle, bringing a smile to your face.

The next week you went back to your doctor. “Unfortunately it looks like our only alternative is to do sperm removal followed by IVF.” He paused, looking at a list of personal information, “your financial situation would make this procedure very difficult, I hate to say this, but have you considered adoption?” Your heartbeat spiked, “yes, my husband is a Marine Corps veteran diagnosed with PTSD, we aren’t considered candidates.” You had been through all of this years ago. Early on you had looked into adoption. Before you had even tried to get pregnant naturally. Both you and Dae-ho wanted to help a child without a home and add them to your little family of Kangs. You were shocked to find out that because of Dae-ho’s PTSD you couldn’t adopt. He had nightmares and was afraid of loud noises and the dark, but there was nothing about his PTSD that would make him a bad father. But, for some reason a little note on his discharge papers crossed out one of your options.

“Okay, well the procedure will be expensive, but IVF for healthy women under the age of 35 has an over 50% success rate.”

Once you got home Dae-ho pulled you into a hug the second you crossed the threshold. “We’ll make this happen, I promise you.”

You burrowed your head into his chest and mumbled, “I know, I know. I believe you.”

And so the cycle started again. It was another two years before you saved up enough money.

You both had surgery on the same day, and watched with delight as the doctor showed you the embryos after they had medically joined your egg and Dae-ho’s sperm. Tears streamed down your face as you saw what would become your baby on the screen. You never knew you could feel so attached to a couple of small dots, but here you were. The doctor gave you a print out, something they didn’t usually do but Dae-ho begged for, and went home. Your appointment was scheduled for the next week, it was the happiest week you had in years. You and Dae-ho went on long walks every night, you got dinner with his sisters and your friends. It was fantastic, and the night before the implantation you stayed up late and talked about baby names for hours.

Everything finally went to plan. The implantation went smoothly, and three weeks later when you and Dae-ho were sitting in the bathroom together, there were so many emotions buzzing in the air it felt electric.

“I’m going to turn it over.”

“Okay.” Dae-ho was pressing his hands together and praying, something he almost never did.

You screamed, “oh my God!”

Dae-ho jumped up and grabbed the stick out of your hand. A pink plus sign.

Dae-ho shouted out in joy and wrapped his arms around you and started jumping up and down. Dae-ho then paused and sunk down to his knees, pressing his head against your belly.

You stilled as he pulled your shirt up and put his forehead against your stomach. You could feel wet tears on your belly. “Hello baby.” He whispered, “this is your daddy, me and your mommy love you so much and we are going to take such good care of you, I promise.”

Your heart felt full. Finally, you and your husband had a family. You were a mother, and Dae-ho was a father. The next six months were the happiest of your life. Dae-ho completely assimilated into his role as a father. He painted your baby’s room a pale yellow, and him and his mother picked out more baby clothes than your child could possibly wear.

He had a copy of every ultrasound photo in his wallet, in chronological order. There were so many of them that the wallet started to bulge with all the extra paper.

You were just as ecstatic as him. When you and Dae-ho were cuddling, he would reach around from his spot as the big spoon to rest his hand on your belly. You would draw circles next to it, and whisper to your baby, “it’s your mom. You know, before you and your dad were in my life I felt lost. And now, I’m happy about every step I’ve taken. It led me right here. Thank you little baby, mom loves you.” It was too early in your pregnancy for the baby to hear you, so you giggled to yourself before drifting off to sleep.

The only time you had ever seen Dae-ho’s father proud was when Dae-ho excitedly shouted, “we’re pregnant!” Three minutes after entering their house, unable to hold in his excitement for a moment longer.

Although you did hear his dad mutter “took you long enough” under his breath, his mother’s unapologetic excitement made up for it. Before you knew it you had five knitted baby hats and five knitted baby socks in the top drawer of your dresser.

Dae-ho would excitedly shout “we’re pregnant!” Whenever anyone would so much as glance at your baby bump. Most of the time it annoyed you to no end when fathers would say, “we’re pregnant,” while their wives were the only ones actually doing any work. But in Dae-ho’s case you think he earned it. He did all of the chores, prepared dinner for the next day the night before, and treated you like a queen. Besides, he looked so cute every time he said it.

Your pregnancy was easier than you could have ever imagined, even in your wildest dreams. You had no morning sickness, very little fatigue, and your baby hit all of their milestones early. You decided not to figure out if it was a boy or girl until they were born, and so your baby was affectionately nicknamed “little Dae” during your pregnancy.

Truly, you had never been happier.

Dae-ho came home with take-out at the usual time. You liked to eat healthy, but it was Friday night and you agreed to have a little treat at the start of every weekend.

“Honey, I’m home!” Dae-ho called out. No response.

“(Y/n), where are you?” You had to be at home, either you or your boss would have called him if you had to stay late.

He walked through the house, finally stopping in front of the bathroom door. Dae-ho shakily opened it, and upon seeing the scene inside, immediately rushed to you.

You were laying on the floor of the bathroom, unconscious and surrounded by blood. He rushed into action, he had run scenarios of every possible nightmare scenario that could happen the second you got pregnant but it didn’t even come close to preparing him for this.

He picked you up and ran to the car. Dae-ho didn’t remember the drive to the hospital. Every other second he would glance at you lying unconscious in the passenger seat as he sped through the streets of Seoul.

The hospital parking lot was full so Dae-ho parked illegally. He picked you up in both arms and rushed you into the ER, not bothering to turn off the ignition.

The staff jumped up the second they saw you, and quickly tore you out of his hands. A doctor quickly noticed your baby bump and asked you if you had any previous pregnancy complications. He shook his head, and before he could react they were rushing you away from him. He tried to race after you, but two orderlies held him back. Once he couldn’t see you anymore, he collapsed to his feet sobbing.

Dae-ho was hyper aware of everything going on around him. Every beep, every footstep, everything. A doctor came out and questioned him on your medical history. He had it memorized.

It felt like forever before the doctor came out.

“Mr. Kang?”

Dae-ho immediately stood up and nodded, “your wife experienced something called placental abruption. It’s when the placenta detaches from the uterus. Due to the severity, we performed an emergency C-section.”

“Emergency C-section?” Dae-ho blurted out, “no, it’s too early.”

The doctor sighed, “Yes, 25 weeks is very early, however it was our best option.”

“How are they?” The doctor was talking too slowly, Dae-ho needed answers now.

“Your wife’s placental abruption was very severe, and there were significant complications. She’s very weak, and will have to stay in the ICU. She will need further surgery to try and fix the damage, but due to the amount of blood loss we couldn’t continue the surgery longer.” Dae-ho felt like there was a weight crushing his chest. He couldn’t breathe, “and- and the baby.” He was scared to ask. He didn’t know if he could live if his child died, and he knew he couldn’t if you left him.

“He’s in the NICU, I’m going to be honest with you, premies this size struggle, but we will do everything we can and if he begins to improve, his outlook is very good.”

His son. His son. He had a little baby somewhere in the hospital, all alone and by himself, without his mother to take care of him. Completely new to the world. “Can I- can I-” The words didn’t come out, but the doctor seemed to understand.

“Yes, of course. Due to disease risk you can’t visit for long and will have to wear sterile clothing, but you can visit briefly.”

Dae-ho didn’t have to decide which of you to see first. He had to see his son. He knew you, and he knew that you loved your baby more than anything. You wouldn’t want him to be alone right now. A nurse put a set of scrubs on Dae-ho, and then he was ready to enter the room. He had a face mask, a cap, and gloves on, and there were booties on his feet.

As soon as the automatic door slid open, time stopped. There were several babies in the room, but Dae-ho’s eyes quickly found the one that said “Baby Kang.” His feet moved without realizing it, and before he knew it was standing in front of the incubator.

His son was so small. He was tiny. There were wires everywhere and his skin was bright red. But even then Dae-ho could still see his tiny chest rise and fall slowly. Dae-ho started crying and it was one of the only times in his life where he felt no shame for breaking down. The tiny infant in front of him was perfect.

“Sir, you can reach your hand in to gently touch his arm.”

Shaking, Dae-ho reached his hand into the incubator. A wave of emotions passed over him when the baby grabbed onto his finger. The tiny baby held on for dear life.

Dae-ho waited as long as he could, standing, staring at his baby boy until the nurse told him he needed to leave before the risk of viral infection became too high.

The nurse led him to your room. You were laying in a hospital bed with a million tubes attached to your body. You were unconscious with a tube pushed down your throat, with tape over your eyes to prevent them from getting dry.

He reached towards your hands, and took your gloved ones in his.

“(Y/n). He’s perfect. He’s so perfect, and I can just- I can just tell he’s a fighter. He’s so strong, just like his mommy. He- he loves you, and we- we need you to hold on.” He was crying, wetting the mask over his nose, “I’m so proud of you, of both of you. I need you so much, please I just-”

He started sobbing. There were no words able to express everything he felt, and everything he wanted to say. All he could do was cry.

For the second time that day, he was kicked out of a hospital room. “Can I- can I stay?” He pleaded to the nurse.

She sighed, “you can stay in the NICU waiting room overnight. But, I recommend you go home first.” She motioned to the plain scrubs he had been given to change out of his blood-soaked ones. “If you have any baby things collected yet, you should get them. Also, bring any insurance information and medical records for your wife, and some comfort items for both of you if she wakes up.” The word if stabbed him in the heart, but he nodded.

Dae-ho didn’t want to leave either of your sides, but he had no choice. His parents were visiting one of his sisters in the countryside, and the majority of your friend group were at a wedding in Jeju that you couldn’t go to due to saving money for the baby.

Dae-ho was determined to get from home to back as quickly as possible. Once he got to the parking lot, he clicked his car keys several times. He didn’t remember where he parked, he was in too much of a rush to get inside when he arrived at the hospital. Dae-ho walked around the entire parking lot looking for the car, before going back inside to check with the front-desk woman.

“Hello, ma’am, I came in with my wife and I- I can’t find my car.” He said, his tone of voice exactly reflecting his feelings.

The woman looked up, “okay, we have cameras in the parking lot, what is the make and model?”

He gave the information to her, and when she came back from a room he assumed held the security cameras, she had visibly paled.

“I’m so sorry sir, I checked the cameras. It appears as if you left the car door open and the vehicle was stolen. I can call the police and we can see what they can do.” She said apologetically.

“No, I can- let’s just do that later okay.” Dae-ho turned around and walked out the front door. He had no energy left.

Dae-ho walked to a subway station next to the hospital, and jumped over the turnstile. He knew his way around the subway station. In his early 20s he didn’t have a car, and had familiarized himself with the city’s subway stations. If anyone confronted him about not paying, he knew they would quickly back down once they heard why.

Dae-ho sat down on a bench in front of the train that would take him home, and put his head in his hands.

“Excuse me sir, would you like to play a game?” Dae-ho looked up to see a tall man in a well-pressed suit staring down at him. “No.” Dae-ho snapped, looking back down at the floor.

The man sat down next to him. “Do you know how to play Ddakji?”

Dae-ho scooted slightly away from the man, determined to ignore him.

“If you play with me I will let you in on a-”

“Listen here sir, I don’t know you and I do not want to play a game. Please leave me alone.” Dae-ho said, looking the man in the eye, trying to deter him. The man let out a slight chuckle, “not even for 100,000 won?”

Dae-ho wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. The thought of the cost of all your medical treatments was something he hadn’t thought about yet. It was so far less than his fear for both of your lives that the thought of paying medical bills hadn’t come close to entering his thoughts before now. He had heard stories of friends-of-friends dying or going bankrupt because of hospital bills. He was horrified of the same thing happening to you or the baby. He would do whatever it took to save you, borrow millions of dollars from loan sharks, work 20 hours a day, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. It was a potential he couldn’t confront. He wouldn’t let you die, but what would he do even if he could get the money? You would be destitute, and his child growing up in poverty was a thought that horrified him. As much as he hated it, a short game with a crazy man would be worth it if it could help prevent that possibility.

“What’s the catch?” Dae-ho was desperate, not stupid.

“Well, if I win, I give you 100,000 won. If you win, you give me the same, simple as that.” The man responded, his smile not quite reaching his eyes..

“I don’t have 100,000 won.” Dae-ho didn’t care about embarrassing himself in front of strangers on the subway, he had much bigger things to worry about.

The man sighed, “okay, you can pay with your body instead if you’d like,” Dae-ho raised an eyebrow and turned back away from the man with a scoff. The man chuckled again, “no no, not like that. Let’s just say, I take off 100,000 won for every loss. Sound fair?”

Dae-ho felt humiliated. But he couldn’t fail you. He couldn’t fail you over something as stupid as a slap in a children’s game. So he nodded.

The man opened up his briefcase and held out the two pieces, “blue or red?”

By his fourth attempt Dae-ho’s face was red and hurting. With every round he got more and more frustrated, shouting out obscenities after every slap. On the fifth attempt he finally won. Dae-ho shouted out, and with his victory the man handed him two 50,000 won notes.

Dae-ho was ready to walk away and forget the strange event that just happened, when the man spoke. “Kang Dae-ho.”

He turned around, “how the fuck do you know my name?” Dae-ho didn’t consider himself a violent man, but he turned around and walked to stand directly in front of his face.

The man chuckled, “you are 34 years old. You’ve been married for 9 years and you and your wife have been trying to have a baby for 6 of them. Yesterday, your wife went to the hospital at 25 weeks with an emergency C-section.”

“Fuck you,” Dae-ho threw a punch at the man, who caught it.

“If your child and wife receive all the treatment they need to survive, you will have to pay about 750 million won.” The man smiled, “which is far more than you can afford. You will be destitute if you can get the money. And if not- well… then I guess we know what’ll happen.”

“Why the fuck are you saying this to me?” Tears burned behind Dae-ho’s eyes, threatening to break free.

The man handed Dae-ho a business card with three shapes on it. “Call this number, my organization could help you.”

Just at that moment Dae-ho’s train came, and the man let his arm go to let Dae-ho stumble away. As he sat down on the subway Dae-ho pulled out his wallet. He took out the first ultrasound photo. The first image he ever saw of his baby. You both started bawling once you saw the tiny baby on the screen, and heard the quiet steady beat of your baby’s heartbeat over the monitor.

Dae-ho started crying in his seat on the train. He had dreamed for his entire life about what it would be like to be happy. Truly happy, away from his father’s judgement, away from the military, away from all the pain in his life. And finally, finally it had happened.

His life was beyond his wildest fantasies. He was married to the most wonderful woman in the world, and was going to be a father. You and his son were the greatest things on the planet. You were lovely and kind, and your baby had to be just as lovely and kind as you. And the two of you were somehow his, somehow his family. And then everything fell apart. He had to save you, had to fulfill the promise he had given you so long ago. That it’ll be okay.

“I promise you, daddy is going to take care of you. I’ll see you soon and then you, me and mommy will be okay.” Dae-ho kissed the ultrasound photo, then pulled out his phone and dialed the number on the card.

This took so long I don't think you understand 😭. I'm not sure how regular I will be able to write, my second semester started halfway through writing this fic and I am so crazy busy that I have almost no free time. My writing has a lot of medical stuff in general because that is my other interest besides writing (#womeninstem lol) I think I'm starting to really find my voice in writing, and it a pretty raw and realistic style. Have a good day, drink water and get sleep :)

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darthkote · 4 months ago

Text

Cody: Sir, we should keep moving.

Obi: and why exactly is that? Stop and smell the roses, Cody.

Cody, faltering: I'd love to- it's just that there's no roses and my blacks are pinching me in all the worst places, and, really, General, did you have to wear that new cologne this morning, it's terribly distracting and faintly-

Obi: rosy? Yes, I was getting there, but you seem to have beaten me to it. Glad to know your senses are sharp as ever, Commander *thoroughly continues flirting*

#cody: *derealizes*#star wars incorrect quotes #codywan #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #ct 2224 #star wars #the clone wars #clone headcanons #star wars headcanons #star wars memes #clone troopers #blaster fire and explosions are happening in the bg of this convo btw #incorrect star wars quotes

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hellhazbinstuck · 11 months ago

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do some angst with the hazbin hotel characters? Like we get into an argument and they yell and notice we went silent, looking as if we were gonna break down into tears, IM SORRY I JUST LIVE FOR ANGST AHHH

Hazbin Hotel characters making their S/O cry

Alastor

He was preparing for tomorrow night's broadcast when he heard the door open.

He had been working on his radio broadcast and hotel things for the whole day. He was under so much stress and took it out on you.

"Darling, you know I've been in here all day. Is it that difficult to knock?! You know these things are important! Why must you interrupt me?!"

He didn't get an answer. You just slammed the door and ran out.

He felt terrible as soon as he saw sadness in your eyes.

He ran after you and hugged you, rubbing circles on your back and telling you how sorry he was.

Lucifer

He was very pissed at how much Alastor and Charlie got along.

He was working on his rubber ducks, not hearing you walk in.

He didn't know you were in the room until you hugged him from behind.

"What? What is it now?!" He shouted, dropping his rubber duck to the floor.

"Could you leave me alone for five minutes when you know I'm busy?!"

"Wow, fuck you!" You said before slamming the door and using your powers to get to the hotel.

Alastor opened the door to see you crying and brought you to the couch, giving you a hug.

You barely got the chance to finish telling Alastor what happened before Lucifer ran to you, crying and apologizing.

You were able to talk things out and agreed to be more open about feelings.

Sir Pentious

Pentious was working on a new invention. But, since he was trying to get redeemed, it couldn't be for evil.

He was trying to build things to help with the hotel. Right now, he was making something to lift Niffty up around the hotel.

You were trying to help while also keeping the egg bois under control, not realizing you were distracting him.

"Will you please stop already! You're supposed to be watching them, but you're just as annoying!!"

You had tears in your eyes as soon as you turned around.

"Fine!" You yelled before running off.

"That wasn't very nice, boss. You should apologize."

When Pentious saw you, you were sitting on the couch by the TV with Charlie hugging you.

"Y/N, may I speak with you? I would like to apologize."

You silently nodded, standing up next to him.

"I'm sorry, my dearest, can you ever forgive me?"

"As long as you promise to tell me what's wrong and how to properly help in the future."

He pulled you into a hug and wrapped his tail around you.

Husker

The bar was open way later than usual because Charlie decided to have an open house for the hotel.

Free drinks were pretty much a necessity when you're trying to lure in sinners.

Husk seemed fine/ his usual brand of grumpy.... Until he saw you talking and laughing with some guy and pulled you into an empty hallway.

"What the fuck was that? Did you really think I would be too busy to see you flirting like a whore?"

Even with tears in your eyes, you could tell he's been drinking vodka straight.

You pushed him away from you.

"That's my cousin, you asshole! He was asking me about the hotel."

You ran away, going right to the room you shared with Husk and trying to go to sleep.

Husk spent the rest of the party drinking water and eating a few snacks to fight the future hangover.

When you woke up, Husk had his wings and arms wrapped around you. He didn't even bother trying to sleep.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I was such an idiot and I hurt the best person who's ever been in my life. I freaked out about seeing you with someone else..... because I know I don't deserve you, and I don't want to lose you."

He was crying into your shoulder, and you pulled him into a hug.

"You couldn't lose me if you wanted to. Just remember, I love you more than anything, and I'd rather die again than lose you.

(A/N : This sucks ass and I'm sorry this took me so long. I hope you like it, though. )

Requests open

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yurozo · 5 months ago

Text

uxoriousness/meritoriousness

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝ leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: following a recent outing to spain, leon indulges himself in the chaos of the theatre as a temporary reprieve. what he doesn't expect is to find you, a duke's daughter which captures his attention.

tags: fluff, romance, fem!reader, no use of y/n, early modern century britain, knight!leon (?), terrible flirting on leon's behalf.

a/n: it's 18th century britain leon babey! i attempted at making it as accurate as possible, but i did push flexibility in prose and conventions. i'm thinking of making this about five parts, so please let me know if you want to see more! <3 side note: uxuriousness is an 18th century term to be excessively fond of your wife, and maritiousness is a less common word to be excessively fond of your husband. ;)

part 1, part 2, next parts coming soon!

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

Leon Kennedy, from the period of his last excursion to Spain, was admitted a frequent visitor to the theatre. Not particularly for the novelty of it; in truth he had no interest in watching the actors sing about their prose, but instead for the solitary comfort the booth often provided. To lounge in a padded chair and lose oneself to the idle chatter of the audience below bestowed a barrier that subsided his reserves, his tiring thoughts of blood staining his sword and the cracking of ribs as his weapon sinks between them.

Certainly not for another more pervasive reason. Most definitely not the Lady sitting in the booth across the orchestra, watching the play with rapt interest.

You had become a recent obsession of his, watching every slight change in expression that you wore so freely. Distaste at every nobleman vying for your affections, wistfulness at the chaste kiss between two actors, dejection when the curtains came to a full close. A painful curiosity ignited at your countenance and he could hardly withdraw his eyes from your person until the performance had concluded. Several weeks had passed in this kind of intercourse, content with being an unacknowledged admirer and not letting himself be overcome with more powerful considerations.

That was until he spotted another man in your booth, desperately pleading with your hand in his rigid grip, and that same revulsion in your face, which propelled him upwards. He forbore any immediate inclination to withdraw his sword and allow him the same fate he willingly gave to his enemies for even daring to grab you without permission.

His manners were very much admired in his circle, with many honoured with such an attention as his. It is for this reason that he is sure no true gentleman should ever dare force himself upon a woman, and especially not someone with a countenance more touchingly beautiful than he had ever dared to imagine before.

In descending the last steps of your booth, however, your foot faltered and while Leon hastened to assist you, the man’s grip could no longer sufficiently engage to confine. While you were not materially hurt in your fall, it was reason enough to refuse any gracious acknowledgement from the other man.

“My lord,” Leon derided, standing in the gap between the two. “I believe your presence is wanted elsewhere.”

The man remonstrated, and represented the serious danger that threatened from so rash a proceeding. “My lady,” said he in a solemn voice, “Sir.”

The man quickly departed, as the waning patience of Leon could clearly not have endured the repeated attack on another persons honour. But these cogitations were but of short continuance; they vanished with the appearance of your hand, waiting for his to assist you. He does so, pulling you gently to him, and greeted you with a softness oft unfamiliar to him.

“My lady,” Leon said, folded in a deep bow; “I am sorry, exceedingly sorry, that you may have been given uneasiness.”

He wanted so desperately to bring your hand upwards, to brush his lips against the soft unscarred skin of your knuckles. But he is noble in heart, and too afraid to break convention in a manner of all people, so he acquiesced himself to squeeze it once instead. The accomplished mind of his was more likely to succeed in silent attentions than by a formal declaration of his sentiment.

“Any such sentiment was easily quelled,” you responded, the gentle remonstrances in his favour becoming more pleasing and more convincing. “Thank you, Sir, I felt nothing but surprise at your sudden appearance.”

“Your surprise could not be greater than mine in being noticed by you,” said he, hesitating ever so slightly in his forwardness. “My lady.”

A hint of flush coloured your mottled cheeks that retrimmed the flame building with an ardent fire. “Allow me to thank you, Sir,” you said, retracting your hand from his. “If you are not diverted, to join me.”

The present confliction of passion seemed endless; he had already formed an inkling of affection for someone so far out of his station to even consider a proper courtship, and yet the very idea of never feeling that warmth in his palm again ached fiercely. Perhaps it was simply due to the long stretches of time in which he received none at all, but the crime of engaging in a past attachment was severer and more painful than he had imagined. Your hand was gentle in a manner that he is not, uncalloused where his are weathered from a swords grip.

“I shall,” he replied, allowing for you to seat yourself first before he followed, a timid eagerness in his step.

Leon seized the opportunity thus offered, attempting to converse with you, while he was yet considering what he could say, that might interest and withdraw you from this severe reserve. From the style of your dress, he imagined that you were a person of honourable, yet modest personality, who exhibited an air of comfort in the midst of his usual experience of strict upper-class nobility.

It was something about you, he decided, that circumstance had punished him gravely with your presence. He could not remember a true life without it, for all manner of previous happiness seemed finite in comparison. In fine, you were both infinitely charmed with each other, although you lacked the nerve to voice such affections.

“Are you engaged, my Lady?” he said, in a tone much too hurried for the quiet air of the booth. His brow pinched at the suddenness of the intrusion, at the lack of care in his tone that may have painted him impatient, or at worst, rapacious.

“I fear not,” you laughed, and what a wondrous sound it is. Had you been able to encounter his eyes, you may have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight lightened them. Feeling all the more common awkwardness and anxiety of the situation, now forced yourself to speak. “Are your affections taken by another?”

“No, my Lady,” said he, “present company excluded.”

You coloured and laughed at his reply, and any guilt of his previous misstep is comforted by the brightness of your gaze, cast upon him of all people. Should the divine have asked him now to give all of him to you, he would have gladly obliged in that very moment, forfeiting all mortal possession and any semblance of self in your honour.

“Are you enjoying the play thus far?” you started, still flushed of the affectionate gallantry that he bestows upon you.

“I do not recollect that I am.”

“You do not enjoy romance?”

“I certainly have not the passion which some people possess,” said Leon, “but I am not steadfast in my conviction.”

You turned to him then, proceeding all the particulars of the romantic genre, and would shortly have recited some very plentiful dictation had Leon not interrupted you once more.

“I have never met anyone of such true enjoyment,” he observed, cutting your speech not out of malice, but of something else entirely. Curiosity, or even sensibility, for he had received all your intelligence with the forbearance of civility.

“Exceedingly so,” you answered, “but I honour your sentiment.”

“My sentiment has changed,” he admitted so fondly, that he feared every fault of his would come to light, “in the presence of such knowledgable company.”

When Leon looked upon you again, surreptitiously enough that you do not notice the length of which he watches you, you watch the two actors embrace each other with welled eyes. Even if Leon never considered himself a poet, surely he could manage a soliloquy that encapsulated the joy in basking at your presence much better than any writer. What fascinating sensibility that you wielded so easily, the same way he holds his weapon, freely and without uncertainty.

The curtains drew shut only moments later, uproarious cheering filling the theatre chambers so any further conversation is halted in its vibrance. You clapped politely beside him, assuming an air of graceful satisfaction, and he clapped in turn, if only to momentarily revel in this moment. Never had he felt so beguiled by a story, attention so pulled by the audience as he did now, supposing that memorizing every detail would supply further dialogue to engage your consideration.

While the audience continued their remarks on the performance, mixed with them many instructions of execution and taste, Leon stands from his seat. Despite the initial surety of his action, a hint of trepidation in his expression gave way to his inability to end a happiness so supreme as to efface all impressions of the past.

“It has been a very agreeable day,” you said to Leon, allowing your hand to be lightly grasped in his. “Never has a play entranced me so. I hope we may often meet again.”

“As do I,” said he, and gave you a final bow, just so you could not see the torment in his expression. Would you let me permit you home, is what he did not say.

“Goodbye, Sir-”

“Leon, my Lady.”

“Goodbye, Sir Leon.” The traces of an unbidden smile once again rises, for now you had a means in which to contact him further, to call upon him the next time you waited his presence.

“I am your humble servant,” said he, trembling with anxiety and sinking with despondency, remained for a moment to gaze upon you, unable to take leave yet irresolute what to say that might prolong the moment occurring.

They took leave of each other; you back to the obligations of the family which expects your maintenance, and he to the tavern to drown the remembrance of his disappointment.

#do i think this will be viral? no. this is for a very niche audience aka me and three other people #but i enjoyed writing it so much and really its all about the act of creation #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy #resident evil fanfiction #ali writes #leon kennedy x fem!reader #re4 leon #leon kennedy x you #reader insert #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #18th century au

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hederasgarden · 6 months ago

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May I please request "You heard me. Take. It. Off.” with Mafia Jake Seresin? (make it as dark as you'd like!)

This got…wildly, unexpectedly dark guys.

Pairing: Mafia boss!Jake Seresin x F!Reader Word Count: 1.3K Warning: Threats of violence (sexual and physical), mafia themes, and a very not in character Jake (basically just a dude wearing his face). Some themes are not tagged. A/N: I’m gonna need you guys to be gentle with me on this one. It is my first foray into writing darker content. I have zero idea if this is the vibe you guys were wanting or not. 😅 Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

You can tell something’s wrong when Rooster arrives to collect you from your desk at reception. He usually greets you with a joke and a smile, leaning over the divider to flirt with you, but today his expression is all business.

“The boss wants to see you.”

If his demeanor wasn’t enough to raise alarm bells, his choice of words certainly is. The Boss— not Jake or Hangman. A wave of anxiety rushes through your chest, settling like a stone in your gut.

“Of course,” you reply brightly, trying to mask your nerves. “Let me just grab my phone and notepad.”

“Leave them,” he instructs. “Just you.”

“I’m not getting fired, am I?” you ask, letting a hint of genuine anxiety slip into your voice. You school your expression into that of the wide-eyed, ditzy front desk girl whose only concern is keeping her job. They can’t discover who you really are.

“I know I lost that package last week, but Bob said it was okay,” you lament, trying to stall. “Am I in trouble?”

“I was just told to get you,” Rooster replies tersely.

As you round the desk to pass him, he grabs your bicep with a tight grip. You stumble to keep up with his brisk pace in your heels, but he doesn’t slow down, almost dragging you across the bustling warehouse floor. Though none of the workers look up as you pass, you can feel their eyes on you. By the time you arrive at Jake’s office your hands are shaking and you feel like you might actually throw up. It’s a struggle to push through the panic and remember your training. But eventually you do, plastering on a pleasant but confused expression. You have to play your role, your life could depend on it.

Jake watches you from behind his desk, his dark green eyes cutting over your figure before moving behind you. He jerks his head and the door closes. You’re alone with him and you swallow, throat bobbing in instinctive expression of fear.

“Mr. Seresin…” your words trail off when he raises his hand.

“I’ll admit, it took me a while to see it,” he says, his attention focused on unbuttoning his cuffs to roll up his sleeves and reveal inked skin. “Do you want to know what gave you away?” he asks.

Something, somewhere went terribly wrong you realize. He knows who you are.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I don’t understand what’s going on. If this is about the package…”

He fixes you with a withering look, the tick in his jaw at odds with the calmness of his demeanor. “Don’t,” he says softly.

You fall silent and hold your hands together in front of you, toying with the bracelet on your left wrist. Hidden within the heart-shaped charm is your panic button. You press it and force yourself to stay still; it won’t take your team long to respond. You just needed to keep things from escalating.

“It was your eyes that gave you away,” he continues. “You fluttered your lashes and swayed those hips with the best of them, but it’s hard to mask that kind of intelligence.”

When you don’t react to his words, his grin disappears. “I’m paying you a compliment, sweetheart. Say thank you.”

Years of training urge you to maintain your cover, but deep down, you know it's pointless. The past three months with Jake Seresin have taught you that he doesn’t like being deceived. You know keeping up the pretense will only make him angrier.

“Coming from you, that’s no compliment,” you say, sounding more composed than you feel.

As a slow, genuine smile spreads across his face, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Something is very wrong. Everything about this conversation feels off —from his calm, measured tone to the deliberate, unhurried pace of it all. He should be worried, even scared, at finding a cop in his operation.

“Let’s skip over the part where I ask if you’re wearing a wire and you lie to me,” Jake says, moving to stand in front of his desk. You instinctively take a step back but he simply looks at you, making no move toward you. Instead, he casually leans back, crossing one leg over the other. “Take off your dress.”

The abrupt shift in conversation and his tone have your mind spinning to keep up. “What?” you ask uselessly.

"You heard me. Take. It. Off.” You stand rooted to the spot and he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I’ll do it for you if you prefer.”

You glance at the clock on his desk. It’ll be at least another 10 minutes before backup arrives, and a lot could happen between now and then, none of it good.

“No, no. I’ll do it,” you’re quick to say, desperate to maintain some sense of control over the situation.

With trembling fingers, you reach for the zipper on the back of your dress, moving deliberately slow to buy yourself a few extra seconds, though you know you can't delay the inevitable. You hunch forward, raising your shoulders to let the fabric slip down your arms. As the dress pools at your feet, you step out of it, leaving yourself in just your undergarments. Goosebumps spread across your skin as you stand there, shivering and exposed.

“There’s no wire,” you tell him, jutting out your chin.

Jake grins, reaching into his pocket. “I know. You’re far too clever for that.”

One by one, he pulls out the tiny bugs you had hidden in his office and the warehouse, letting them fall to the floor. As he grinds them under the heel of his Italian loafers, you can only stare at him in stunned silence.

“Right about now you’re trying to figure out how to stall me long enough for your team to get here. Am I right?” He asks.

You shake your head, terror swimming in your veins. If he knew about your panic button, then—

“It’s shockingly easy to get a cell phone jammer these days,” Jake tells you.

He pushes off his desk and you scramble back, body coiled and ready for a fight but, to your surprise, Jake stops a few feet in front of you. He picks up your dress.

“I want you to remember this feeling,” he says, gaze wandering over your exposed skin. “I want you to remember that I can do whatever I want with you. You’re powerless here.”

He tosses your dress at you. “Put it on,” he demands. You stand frozen and unsure of what game he’s playing. “Or not. I don’t mind.” He adds, his smirk making your stomach flip unpleasantly.

You scramble to redress. Once you’re clothed again, you still feel vulnerable.

“Now that you understand the score, let’s talk about how you’re going to help me.”

You stare at him in confusion.

“LAPD’s personnel files are shockingly easy to hack into,” he reveals, picking up a folder on his desk and thumbing through the pages. “Rooster’s on the way to pay your grandmother a visit,” he informs you.

The anxiety and fear you experienced before pales in comparison to the overwhelming terror that grips you as you come to a horrifying realization: it’s not just your own safety that’s at stake. You’ve damned your poor, sweet, elderly grandmother who thinks you still have a desk job at the precinct.

“I wonder if she’ll offer him those same homemade cookies she gave me when I stopped by,” Jake asks with a smile.

Send me a request

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #ivy after dark #hangman x reader #hangman x you

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quinloki · 4 months ago

Note

How would your blorbos react if you accidentally walked in on them naked. 🤔

To provide more context for ya it can be a non-established relationship

Or early on in the relationship. Let’s just say you saw a fair amount of….well almost everything 😅😏

-🌕

>.>

<.<

😇

Oh man, walking in on Kid is one of those - Oh. - moments. It's hard not to stare. It's hard when you stare. I can picture Kid looking down and then looking back over at you.

"Wanna a ride, sweetheart, or a picture?"

It's a legit offer, mind your words carefully.

Sabo has half as much sense as he'd like to admit he does - instead of pulling his pants back up he grabs his hat and covers himself, red down to shoulders regardless of what expression he's managed to put on his face.

His shy reaction will likely prompt you to close the door, but if you don't - if you, say, continue with whatever you came in to say to him, he'll manage. Aside from holding his hat in place, he'll be comfortable enough.

... which... now... I'm just imagining updating Sabo on something and he's standing there naked save for a pair of gloves and his hat over his dick.

...

/ahem/

Marco won't bother to cover up, and is more likely to turn toward you and ask you what you needed. His expression will be relaxed (if you can even tear your eyes away from his cock to SEE his face), and his tone will be easy and and inviting.

He'll talk business if you can keep your wits about you, but he will teasingly flirt you with his words if you lose your composure. Something more physical could certainly happen, but he's going to follow whatever flow presents itself, so he won't push it if the opening isn't there.

Thatch will cover himself with his scarf.

... it is not terribly effective.

Tomatoes would be envious at the manner of red Thatch turns.

If YOU flirt with him he'll crumple like a house of cards, but otherwise you will likely get a very meek plea to allow him to get dressed before you continue talking business. He *cannot* concentrate like this.

Izou will act like he's clothed. Good luck to you, one way or the other. If you're lucky the only thing that he will be wearing is some lipstick and a pair of gloves.

Sir Crocodile does not get accidentally walked in on. But you don't need to know that. You'll need to make up for viewing him thus without permission - don't panic, he's sure you'll... appreciate the punishment.

Shanks probably walks around naked on the deck of the ship so much you're not seeing him naked for the first time when you walk into his room. He's laying in bed naked with a rose in his mouth giving you bedroom eyes and you don't even look up from your report, setting it on the table and informing him you're allergic to roses, and he should put on pants before coming out on deck.

#quin answers #quin muses #reader insert #x reader #anon asks #marco the phoenix #eustass kid #sir crocodile #shanks one piece #sabo the revolutionary #Thatch one piece #izou one piece #🌕#mdni

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johnwickb1tsch · 1 year ago

Text

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 2 <<Part 1

-You are sitting on a bench in the lakeside park, reading a book and enjoying the bright winter sunshine when a cold nose presses into your hand. You look up to find a blue pitbull nuzzling you for pets. “Oh hi there, baby,” you coo, scratching his broad head without a thought. You follow the leash to the owner, and are very surprised to see Mr. Wick standing there, looking endearingly embarrassed about it all. “Sorry,” he says. “He pulled me over here.” He gives the dog a look as it leans against you, getting side scritches with a blissed-out doggo look. You have a notion that Mr. Wick might be jealous, somehow, but you push it away.

“That’s ok. What a good boy. What’s his name?”

“Um…Dog.”

You smirk up at him. “Original.”

He sighs, looking at you through his hair, and it pulls at your heartstrings for some reason. You pat the bench beside you, and he accepts, though he sits as far away as he can. “He likes you,” he says, looking ruefully down at the dog. “Do you have pets?”

“No,” you admit. “I travel too much.”

“Yeah?”

You can tell he’s surprised to hear this. Most people are. But you live frugally on your barista’s salary so you can go abroad for a month or so. You’re a budget traveler for sure, but you’ve been all over the world.

“Yes. I’m going to Italy this summer.”

“Sounds nice.”

“You’ve been?”

“Several times. For work.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m retired.” He doesn’t elaborate, and you leave it for now. You don’t really talk anymore, just look at the lake, and pet his dog who leans all his solid weight against your leg. You are content in the companionable silence.

You think he is too.

- It’s interesting sometimes, watching the interpersonal pageants of the regulars. When thrice divorced Victoria Fraser-Sims lays eyes on Mr. Wick for the first time in what you have come to consider his corner, she starts coming in for a lot more no-fat double-shot sugar-free vanilla lattés. All the locals are quite…aware…of Vicky’s predatory habits. A part of you wonders if you should warn Mr. Wick, but you reckon a single man who looks like him is quite used to fending off hungry cougars.

She starts by sitting near his table in her tight workout clothes, ostensibly bending over to pick up repeatedly dropped objects, affording various views of her generous cleavage and spin-class toned rear end. You know you have no right to feel so pleased that Mr. Wick seems to ignore her.

But then she ups her game, so bold as to sit down at his table with him to chat. He talks to her politely. One day, she actually succeeds in making him laugh. You hear it, loosed like an arrow that strikes you from across the room.

You have zero right to be jealous, of course, but you can’t help it. You and Mr. Wick have a thing.

Maybe just in your own head, but still.

But maybe they would be a good couple, you reason sadly, making yourself think realistically. Closer to the same age. And he does seem so lonely.

A few days later they come in the door together, seeming content, and your heart plummets to your feet. Holy shit, she actually pulled it off. They’re dating, you’re perfectly convinced.

In that moment you decide to back off. Mr. Wick is at least twenty years your elder. What the fuck would he want with an awkward little gremlin like you? It’s amazing sometimes, how well you can delude yourself. A curse of having a vivid imagination, perhaps. He’s just polite, and you are kind to him, because he seems a little broken. You resolve to behave. No more quips. No more teasing. From this day forward it shall be only, Here’s your coffee, yes sir, have a good day.

You’ve never been terribly good at keeping resolutions, but you’re going to try.

-Your determination to leave Mr. Wick alone is timed conveniently with a new hire who is around your age. He is and cute, and you get on immediately. Your flirting is fairly harmless, though you know the shop is filled with loud laughter from the two of you when your shifts coincide. Sometimes you feel Mr. Wick looking over at you after you’ve had a good chortle, and you sense he is annoyed.

Once, you catch him glaring at Brian’s back like he might like to carve the boy’s liver.

You try to quiet down, but it never really lasts. It’s been a while, since you’ve met someone who you click with so well. A comrade makes working in the service industry slightly more endurable, after all.

-One day, you burn yourself on the steamer wand while Mr. Wick is waiting for his order. Maybe it’s the volume of the unladylike expletive that spills from your lips, but he does not hesitate to come around the counter to check on you. It hurts like a motherfucker, and while you blink back tears you are quick to dig out ice to put on it. He even more quickly bats it into the sink, flipping the faucet on. “Cold water is better.”

Before you know it he is guiding your wrist into the stream with a gentle but exacting grip. “Hold that there,” he instructs. You can’t fathom disobeying him.

Brian stares rather dumbfoundedly at the customer behind the counter. “Um…sir? You can’t be back here.”

“Then get her the first aid kit instead of standing there looking useless,” he snaps, and the young man jumps into action, scurrying away.

John gives a low whistle once you’ve finished with the cold water, blotting you dry at the butt end of the counter. “You got yourself good.”

“It’s not the first time,” you sigh. You’re not particularly clumsy, but it happens when you’re juggling five things at once to keep the drink orders moving.

John bandages the burn for you, frowning at the salve provided in the first aid kit that expired years ago, but deciding it will do in a pinch. His long-fingered hands are precise, but gentle, and as he touches you, you feel your brain turn to mush. You can’t remember the last time someone took care of you like this.

Maybe he’s not mad at you after all.

Later that day you appear from the back, to find a little paper pharmacy bag on the counter with your name written in concise black print. Inside there is more ointment, large Band-aids, and a little Snickers chocolate bar.

How did he know it’s your favorite?

Even though you didn’t see him come or go, you know it was Mr. Wick, and this small gesture touches you to tips of your toes.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #yandere john wick #yandere #bittersweet john wick imagine #john wick fic #john wick imagine

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variberry · 10 days ago

Text

some things about arcane that never fail to make me giggle:

Mel and Jayce getting freaky while Viktor is LITERALLY DYING in the next room

"Crank it"

Salo thinking Ambessa was going to put him in charge

"Ten outta ten, toots"

Jayce witnessing the apocalypse while Heimerdinger plays a jaunty little tune

"wait, this isn't my bedroom...?"

Local Cuisine

Mylo's eyebrows

"Viktor??? 👀 My god..."

Ambessa flashing Jayce

"What's wrong with my pAaNtS?"

Sassy Viktor

Vi and Jayce failing to charge up the hammer

"I thought you were done with hextech :("

The look Silco gives Vander when Felicia says she's pregnant

Viktor's NOTICEABLE grimace when Mel starts to flirt with Jayce

Most of Salo's lines tbh he's so unserious

Sevika's terrible haircut in season 1

"Oh... you must be cold" SIR ENOUGH

Ekko and Jayce's instant rivalry over being Heimerdinger's favorite boy

Mylo taking literally FOREVER to pick locks like dude isn't this your thing why do you suck

"thAaaaT's MEE!"

Jayce's cliche recruitment speech

"Me mAM named me MaTiLdA"

Silco's hair in the alternate reality

When Mel slaps the wine glass out of Ambessa's hand

"Goodbye, Jayce." "GoOdByE?"

Caitlin instantly changing sides after Vi calls her cupcake

Heimerdinger's little pet

Heimerdinger

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alexander-arcturus-black-lupin-r · 7 months ago

Text

Hanging Out

Spencer wasn’t one to detail his calendar to the last minute. But he liked having a clear idea of when he was going to be doing. He walked out of the office deciding to pass by a little coffee place for a breather, he didn’t dislike paperwork he just hated how much and extensive it was. He was on an indefinite break after just being lied to over and over again by an incredibly annoying suspect.

He watched as you stood outside frowning at your phone.

“Hey, Stranger.” you looked up at him and smiled, his heart skipping a beat.

“Hey Genius, what’s up?”

“I should be asking you?” you shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Come one now, you know you are a terrible liar.”

“Only when it’s you.” you sighed as you showed him your phone. “My best friend is on a date with my boyfriend, she made him text me to break up.”

Spencer squinted, analysing everything about the picture.

“They look comfortable, his posture leant more into her, this has been going on for a while.”

“So I’m not crazy, thank you.” you slid your phone into your pocket. “I’m trying to figure out what to do now.”

“Would you like to go have lunch together?”

“I just got broken up with Spence don’t you think a grace perios is in order?” Spencer turned slightly red at his ears.

“I-I mean the restaurant they’re at, a-and pretend but-”

“Revenge huh?” you cross your arms and envisioned it. You weren’t a confrontational type infact you hated it which was ironic considering your job but you managed to alienate any feelings towards your criminals and your loved ones.

It might get messy.

“OR you could just enjoy lunch SOMEWHERE ELSE WITHOUT ME i won’t take offence i promise.” Spencer looked genuinely scared that he might have crossed a line.

“I don’t know where the restaurant they are is so-” you held out your hand. “I’m trusting you to take me there and back.”

Spencer grinned and it was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. “You can think of it as a hangout instead of a date.”

“I actually would like to go on a date with you, a real one.”

He nodded but the shy smile on his face betrayed him.

“I haven’t had the best er dating history.”

“I don’t care, it’s you Spencer, I like you.” He grinned again and you felt your heart beat faster.. “You have a pretty smile Reid.” His grip on your hand tightened.

“You are pretty.”

“Can I get one big bowl of croutons and a glass of railway?” Railway was some new smoothie that had everything I like in one glass.

“Alright, and what about you sir?”

“A club sandwich and a cup of coffee.”

“Your order will be with you in a few,”

You turned to look at them when Spencer stopped you.

“Have you texted him back?’ You shook your head taking out your phone.

“Should I?”

“Call him instead.” you blinked when you realised where he was going with this.

“I think you’ve watched a lot of revenge drama, Dr. Reid.” He looks away, blushing. You lean in and take in the man infront you. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“You are spinning me, sunshine.”

“Sunshine?”

“If you saw yourself in my eyes, I think you’d understand.”

You leaned back. “How the tables have turned.”

You heard glass break to the side but didn’t flinch keeping your eyes on the doctor as he kept his on yours.

“Touché.”

You scrolled through your contact.

Brrr

He picked up.

“Hey, listen. I saw your text and honestly no hard feelings. It’s good we didn’t move in together or packing would be so annoying to deal with. I hope you and her are happy, Bye.” you ended the call without a second thought.

You blocked him and put your phone back in your pocket. All the while you were keeping eye contact with Spencer.

“You look way too good for someone who just got dumped.”

“What can I say.” you shrugged before winking at him. “I had someone help me stay steady.”

“You are a flirt.”

“Only for you doctor.” Spencer’s head fell back as he laughed. It was a boyous laugh that also had you laughing too.

“HEY!” you stopped laughing as you had met the eyes of your ex who was fuming above you.

“Why are you here?”

“I should be asking you, why are you on a date with your co-worker?”

“Says the one on a date with my best- ex-best friend. You're funny, don’t you think so, genius?”

Spencer’s eyes were sharp on the two as he nodded, “Funny guy.” his voice chilled up the summer afternoon. “Now if you two would move out the way, our waiter is right behind you.”

Fuming the both of them left and you and Spencer had lunch together. You both received a joint text from Aaron giving everyone the remainder of the day off.

“Hey, Spencer,” He looked at you as you both exited hand in hand. “Do you think you can walk me home?”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

______________________________________________________________

no.3 of spencer reid's firsts

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phoenixblaze1412 · 1 year ago

Note

Im obsessed with jealous Dottore scenarios...

Can u write a oneshot where Krupp starts trying to flirt with Reader (who is just looking at him with a blank expression like "huh") and then Webttore sees it and gets so angy... staring daggers into Krupp and plotting his death as he SPEEDWALKS OVER THERE to deal with him...

PLS..... im insanr... - 🐓

Very well!^^

You were only doing your tasks in the laboratory until your co-worker Krupp started talking to you.

"How about you and I have dinner after work?"

"Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are? They are simply stunning!"

You could only stare at the man with a confused expression. You don't know if Krupp is currently drunk or have drank something terrible that caused him to act like this. Nonetheless, you ignored your fellow scientist and continued with the task Dottore has assigned for you. But alas, Krupp just won't stop leaving you alone until he gets your approval to go on a date with him, to which you kept declining.

Unbeknownst to both of you, Dottore was watching the whole thing unfold in front of him. Him glaring daggers behind his assistant's back, a frown evident on his face as Krupp kept complimenting you and your talents. He would've just let the man be if he was flirting with other people but you? Oh, no, no, no. That made his blood boil. Finally at his limits, he set down the equipments he was holding and marched his way towards you and that incompetent Krupp.

You let out a huff as you tried to hide yourself among the various test tubes and beakers just to avoid your annoying co-worker. To be honest, you'd rather be alone in a room with Lord Dottore himself than be in the same presence with Krupp. How the man keeps yapping just makes you want to rip off that ugly moustache of his. Luckily for you, your savior walked over in all his menacing glory.

"So, the offer still stands. I'd like to take you out on a date--"

Before Krupp could even finish his sentence, he was immediately grabbed by the shoulder and forced to turn and face his own boss.

"Instead of taking her out, how about you get back to work, Krupp. Your gibberish nonsense is not needed here in the workplace. If I ever see you talking to her again, I will hang you by the throat, gut out your insides and leave you in the dungeons to rot among the rats. So do kindly leave her alone. Got that?"

Oh, if only you could see how frightened Krupp was after Dottore had threatened him. How Dottore gave him his most malicious grin that already shows how he will not hesitate to kill him on the spot.

"Y-yes sir!-"

The Doctor simply threw Krupp to the side before glaring down at him. Krupp immediately got up to his feet before running off to do his tasks, never to speak to you again. You could only smile in relief now that there's no annoying co-worker forcing you to go have dinner with.

"What's with that smile, hm?"

"It's nothing, Lord Dottore. Thank you for making Krupp leave me alone. He doesn't know that I'm already taken, it seems."

"Tsk. I'll come up with something that will make everyone know you belong to me then. Now enough of that smiling already. Get back to work."

"Will do, Lord Dottore."

You watched as the harbinger sauntered off before going back to your tasks. Oh, how you find it adorable when your partner becomes so aggressive towards any person that tries to ask you out.

What you didn't see was how Dottore was already fuming red after seeing you smile at him. He's annoyed at himself for easily melting at a simple smile that you give before quickly shaking his head and walking back to his station to finish his work.

Making a mental note to himself to make sure to mark you with hickeys and love bites later on once he has you all to himself alone in the privacy of the bedroom...

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore #female reader #gender neutral reader #il dottore x reader

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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! I was the anonymous requester who you said your new fic coming out forever my heart sounds like! If possible could you make it separate so I’ll have more to read! Also if you could add Kylian being her first everything like even kiss!

This is the longest fic I've written up to date and I'm beat. Sorry it came out a little later than I planned.

Love Heals

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — request: «Ok please make this long again but maybe something with Kylian where reader had a really hard life working full time sometimes overtime and multiple jobs with an abusive family while going to school like her sister would bully her, mom abuse her and dad was neglectful and her jobs were terrible too like she has burns from working fast food and him being emotional and shocked because she is so happy all the time and her finally deciding to tell him after a long time like something like a fight or something like he proposes to her makes her tell him and how she is scared to trust him and tells him shes looking to get married»

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 11.k

Warnings! ANGST!! Abuse, abusive family, injury, violence, burns, referencing to past hurts, depictions of violence, insecurities, anxiety, trauma, self-conscious reader, anxious reader FLUFF! lots of comfort, protective Kylian, he would kill for you, mild smut at the end, unprotected sex, soft sex, soft Kylian

The restaurant was busier than usual tonight.

Every table seemed to fill as quickly as it was cleared, and you found yourself darting between the kitchen and the dining area without a moment to catch your breath. The clatter of dishes and the murmur of voices blended into a chaotic symphony around you.

The only thing you could do to get the orders done on time was to run. Your feet were aching in pain, you were so tired you felt like collapsing to the ground. Your hands were shaking, you were holding three plates in one hand.

Despite the ache in your legs and the fatigue weighing down your shoulders, you pushed forward. You had to.

This is how your typical day went— gruesome, tiring, a relentless cycle of exhaustion that demanded everything you had to give.

As you hurried past a table, a customer’s voice cut through the chaos, harsh and dismissive.

“Hey!” the man shouted, “You messed up my order again.”

You froze, the plates of food suddenly too heavy to hold. Your heart sank as you turned around to face the angry customer. You immediately recognized him. Sam.

He had come to the restaurant a few weeks ago and tried to flirt with you. You turned him down, and ever since, he had made it his mission to make your life a living hell.

He comes in every day and just harasses you, knowing you can't really do anything about him because he's a customer.

You're usually good at handling the situation, most of the time just letting him run his mouth. Mostly just insults and catcalls. You endure it. But he's been ordering drinks all night, and the restaurant is packed.

Using all the patience you could muster, you took a deep breath and made your way to him. “I apologize, sir. What seems to be the problem?”

“I said you messed up my order, bitch,” he growled.

You flinched at his tone, feeling the familiar sting of shame. But you kept your composure. “I apologize for the inconvenience. May I know what you ordered so that I can correct the problem?”

Before you could take note of his order, he stood up. “Fuck you,” he sneered. He threw the glass of liquid at you. The strong alcoholic smell tells you that it's whiskey.

The cool beverage soaked your clothes, a stark contrast to the warmth of the burns you received earlier from the grill. You didn’t even notice the pain anymore, the stinging sensation was normal now.

“Get m-me a new... new drink!” he continued. His voice grew louder, and you could hear his slurred words. Drunk.

You could feel eyes on you, but you tried not to look anywhere. The customers and the waiters were all staring. You felt the hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

"Excuse me." You heard a man's voice from the table next to Sam's. You looked over. A tall, handsome man was looking at you with concern.

He was seated with a group of friends, all of whom had stopped their conversation to watch the unfolding scene. The man stood up, his presence commanding immediate attention.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked, his voice calm yet firm. His eyes, kind yet resolute, met yours for a brief moment before shifting to Sam.

Sam sneered at the newcomer. "This doesn't concern you," he slurred, his words barely coherent. "This is between me and her."

The man stepped closer, his posture unyielding, his body shielding you from Sam's view. For some reason, you felt safe with him here. "It does concern me. You're being abusive, and that's not acceptable."

Sam's face twisted in anger. "Who the hell do you think you are?" he spat, trying to push the man away. But the man didn't budge.

With a calm yet authoritative voice, the unnamed man responded, "I'm someone who won't stand by and let you treat her like this." His tone was steady, unwavering, and it seemed to cut through the drunken haze clouding Sam's mind.

Sam glared at him, his drunken bravado faltering. "Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?" he challenged, though his voice wavered slightly.

The man glanced around, noticing the restaurant manager approaching with what seemed to be a concerned look. But you knew better.

Richard’s never cared for your well-being or any of his employees, for that matter. He was a money-hungry man who only cared about the restaurant’s reputation and how much money we were bringing in.

Working for him was a nightmare, but you had no choice. This was the highest-paying job you had and the only reason why you could pay your tuition for the semester.

He approached quickly, his eyes flicking between Sam and the newcomer, assessing the situation.

“Is everything alright here?” Richard asked, his voice tight. His eyes were piecing daggers at your form, and you subconsciously cowarded into the man standing next to you.

“Actually, it’s not,” the man said, turning to Richard. “This customer has been harassing your staff. It needs to stop.”

Richard’s expression hardened, though he managed a tight smile. “I see. I’ll handle it from here.” He glanced at you, a warning in his eyes, before turning to Sam. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Sam’s drunken rage flared again. “I’m not going anywhere! I’m a paying customer!” He shoved his chair back, nearly toppling it over, and lunged at Richard. But before he could do any more damage, the stranger intervened, stepping between them with practiced ease.

“Let’s not make this any worse,” the man said calmly, placing a firm hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’ve had too much to drink. It’s time to go.” As he said that, two men from the table he was previously sat at stood up to join him, their presence reinforcing his authority. Sam looked between the three men, his drunken bravado quickly dissipating into defeat.

Richard, seizing the moment, nodded curtly. "I'll call you a cab," he said, signaling to one of the other waitstaff to assist. Sam, now subdued, allowed himself to be led away, grumbling under his breath but offering no further resistance.

The tension in the room slowly dissipated, and you felt your shoulders sag with relief while your stomach turned with dread. Richard was going to make you pay for this. For losing a customer. For causing a scene.

The tall, handsome man turned back to you, his expression softening. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, his eyes scanning your soaked clothes and the fatigue etched on your face.

You nodded, though your voice betrayed you with a slight quiver. "Yes, thank you. I’m sorry you had to get involved."

He shook his head, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Don't be. No one should have to deal with that alone. I'm Kylian."

"Y/N," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Kylian said warmly, his eyes never leaving yours. He was about to say something else when Richard interrupted.

"Y/N I need to speak with you, now," Richard barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Kylian must've seen the fear in your eyes because he stepped closer to you, almost shielding you from Richard. Your heart fluttered at his gesture but you knew what would happen if you didn't listen.

You reached out a shaky hand and tapped him on the shoulder, your eyes silently communicating that you were okay. He stared at you for a second analyzing your features before nodding slightly and stepping out of the way, making you face Richard again.

Richard’s eyes narrowed at the interaction, wondering How you knew Kylian Mbappé. But decided not to say anything. He looked at you. "Go change your clothes. Meet me in my office in 10 minutes."

You nodded looking at Kylian one more time before scurrying away.

****

Kylian watched you leave, a sense of unease settling in his stomach. Something about you tugged at his heart, drawing him in.

He had first noticed you when he came in. You were a small, maybe 5'0. Your hair was dark, but he could tell it was dyed, your natural color peeking from the roots. You had soft eyes and full lips that seemed to curve into a smile every time you took an order. Your uniform hung loose on you, he could tell you were thin, but not in a healthy way. He had to do a double-take when he saw your name tag.

Y/N.

For some reason, it causes butterflies to erupt in his stomach. He decided then that before the night ended, he would talk to you. Charm you. Get your number.

He spent the whole night watching you as you bustled around the restaurant, taking orders and delivering food with a grace that belied the chaos that seemed to surround you.

And then he saw Sam. The way he talked to you, the way he treated you, made Kylian's blood boil. He had been about to intervene when you came over to Sam’s table, and it was then that he noticed your arm.

Peaking just out of your sleeve was what looked like a burn. It was red, fresh. The sight made his heart clench. What happened to you? Did it hurt?

When Sam started yelling at you, Kylian knew he couldn't stay seated anymore. He stood up and had to fight the urge to punch Sam in the face when he threw a drink at you.

The restaurant bustled around Kylian as he watched you hurry away. Without thinking, his feet moved to follow you, but Hakimi caught his arm. "Hey, where are you going?"

"I just... I need to make sure she's okay," Kylian said, his voice filled with concern.

His friend raised an eyebrow but nodded, letting go of his arm. The look on Kylian's face was unlike anything he had ever seen. The pure concern in his eyes was so heavy that it took him back. He had never seen such desperation in the man. All to follow you.

Kylian nodded and made his way towards the back of the restaurant, following the path you had taken.

Meanwhile, in the small staff restroom, you stood in front of the mirror, trying to steady your breathing. The whiskey-soaked uniform clung to your skin, and the cold, damp fabric made you shiver. But the chill didn’t compare to the icy fear that gripped your heart.

Richard was going to be furious. You had to figure out how to calm him down before it was too late. You pulled off your uniform and began to change, your hands shaking as you tried to button up your spare shirt. You were so tired. Your body felt like a weight was pressing down on it, making it impossible to move.

A knock at the door startled you out of your reverie. “Hello, are you okay? Do you need any help?” a deep voice called out.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you realized it was Kylian. You quickly finished changing and opened the door, revealing him standing there, concern etched on his face. His eyes softened as he took in your appearance, still damp from the spilled drink but now clad in fresh clothes.

"Hey," he said gently, eyes scanning your figure for injuries. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

You managed a small, grateful smile, touched by his genuine concern. "Thank you, I'm okay," you replied softly, though you couldn't hide the lingering unease in your eyes.

He nodded, his expression serious yet comforting. "Is there anything I can do?" Kylian asked, his tone sincere.

Before you could respond, a sharp voice interrupted from behind him. "Y/N, my office. Now." It was Richard, his impatience palpable.

You glanced nervously at Kylian, who met your gaze with a look you couldn't decipher. You forced a weak smile before hurrying past him towards Richard's office.

****

Kylian stood rooted to the spot, watching you disappear down the hallway. His stomach twisted with worry. But then he heard Richard’s voice, his words barely concealed by the thin office door. Kylian felt a knot of anger in his chest as he heard Richard berate you.

You were fired.

Kylian clenched his fists, barely controlling the urge to barge in and set Richard straight. But he knew that would only make things worse for you.

As soon as he saw you leave Richard’s office, he made his way over to you. “Are you okay,” he repeated. It's all he seemed to ask you since you met him. It made your heart flutter how much he cared. Even if he didn't know you.

You looked up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying. He felt his chest clench with regret. If he had known Richard was going to fire you, he would've never left you alone. “yeah, I'm fine, ” you sniffled, forcing a smile.

He reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. Your skin was soft, delicate. You froze at his touch and he quickly removed his hand.

Contrôle toi, mon vieux, c'est pas le temps. He scolded himself.

The air became awkward as you stared at each other. His fingers itched to touch you again. He cleared his throat breaking the silence. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, his voice low. You shook your head.

“No, I’ll be okay.”

Kylian sighed. He couldn't leave you like this. “Can I at least drive you home?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

You hesitated, your instincts telling you to refuse, but the exhaustion in your body won you over. "I... I guess that would be okay," you murmured.

Kylian's face brightened with relief. "Great. Let me just grab my things."

As he walked back to his table to collect his belongings, you took a moment to steady yourself. Tonight had been draining, emotionally and physically, and the idea of spending a few more moments with him was strangely comforting.

You didn't know what to make of Kylian's attention, but right now, you would enjoy every bit you could get.

Kylian returned quickly, his friends giving him knowing looks as he walked away. He led you to the door, a protective hand gently guiding you out of the crowded restaurant.

****

The car ride was quiet, with the only sound being the soft hum of the music playing from the speakers. You couldn't help but stare at Kylian as he drove.

He was handsome. Tall and lean. His skin was dark, a soft brown. His eyes were brown, the deepest you had ever seen. He had nice lips and a sharp jawline.

He looked back at you every now and then, checking that you were still there. The gesture made a warmth bloom in your chest.

Never had anyone stood up for you the way he had. A complete stranger at that. Even though you had just met, and it was stupid of you to get into a stranger's car and let him drive you home. You had never felt more safe than in this moment. With him. Beside him.

You wanted him to keep driving, take you far away from everything.

The halt of the car jolted you out of your trance. Kylian looked at you, his eyes soft. "We're here," he said. "Is this your house?"

You nodded, not wanting to get out.

Kylian got out of the car and walked around to open the door for you. He took your hand, helping you out, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You didn't want him to let go. "Thank you for everything," you said softly, shyly glancing up at him.

He smiled, his lips curving up and his eyes twinkling. "Anytime Y/N."

And with that, you turned around and made your way to the house.

****

Kylian watched as you disappeared behind the front door. His chest felt heavy, his thoughts consumed by you. He missed you already.

He had never felt this way about someone before. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He felt a strange pull towards you, a feeling he couldn’t explain. All he knew was he wanted to spend more time with you. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to hold you.

Kylian made his way back into his car, starting the engine and pulling away from your house. His mind was whirling with thoughts of you.

Just as he pulled into his driveway he remembered something. He never got your number.

****

It was weeks before you would see him again.

This time at the bookstore you worked at. He walked in with a teenager by his side. And judging by the uncanny resemblance between the two, you could tell they were brothers.

You felt your stomach drop at the sight of him. Before he could notice you, you quickly fixed the scarf around your neck where your father's handprint lay fresh and prayed to God your concealer was thick enough to mask the bruise on your face.

You busied yourself behind the counter, stealing glances when you could. They were in the school supplies section, browsing. His brother was animatedly discussing something with him, his gestures mirroring Kylian's in a way that was both heartwarming and bittersweet for you.

You smoothed your scarf nervously, a habit that now concealed more than just your attire, hiding the marks you hoped no one would notice.

As they approached the checkout, Kylian looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the world seemed to pause.

Your throat felt dry and your knees grew weak. The stare he was giving you was an intense one. One that made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You stayed like that for a while. Just staring at each other. His brother stood beside him oblivious to the unspoken exchange, chattering on excitedly.

Then he smiled. It was a gentle smile, one that made you feel warm. He began to walk towards you leaving his brother behind to do more browsing and approached the counter. Your heart pounded in your chest and your mouth felt dry.

"Hi," he said, his voice soft. His eyes searched yours, looking for something. But you didn't know what.

"Hi," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. He leaned forward on the counter, his body angling towards you in a way that felt like a secret. You felt his scent surround you. It was spicy and musky. Your chest fluttered in response.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he said, his voice filled with a longing. Your heart skipped a beat. The tone of his voice, the way he was looking at you. It was almost overwhelming. Never had someone regarded you with such care, such intent.

You felt like a flower being basked in the warm sunlight for the first time.

You managed a small smile. "Yeah, me too," you said, your voice small.

He smiled back. Your stomach clenched. You love his smile. Love the way it made you feel safe, wanted.

He looked like he was about to say something when his brother interrupted him, holding a stack of supplies. "Kylian, come pay for this," his brother said. Kylian nodded, reaching for his wallet.

As he began to unload the stuff from his brother's arms onto the counter, his gaze locked with yours again. He didn't speak but instead held your eyes with an intensity you couldn't understand.

You managed to break the contact by looking down and started to ring up the items.

When you were done and Kylian had paid, his brother thanked you. His smile was sweet and genuine. Kylian looked at you, his eyes searching yours.

You felt like he was trying to say something, but he didn't speak. Instead, he reached out and took one of your hands in his. His palm was warm. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the contact.

"Can I have your number?" he asked, his voice filled with hope. You felt a warmth spread in your chest at his words.

You froze at his words. No one had ever asked you for your number before. At least, no boy.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond. The idea of giving out your number both excited and terrified you. Did you really want to be his friend? As your stepmother always said you tend to bring more harm than good into people's life.

And Kylian was such a good person.

Could you really burden him like that? Suffocate him with your baggage. You weren't meant to be loved. Clearly. After all even your own father didn't want you. Why would he?

You knew that once he got to know the truth about you he would run for the hills. You didn't want to get attached to him only for him to leave you. Heck, you could already feel yourself tearing up at the thought.

But then, looking into Kylian's earnest eyes, you saw something different. Something you both desperately craved. The need to be loved. To be seen.

Slowly, you nodded, your heart racing. "Okay," you managed to say, your voice barely audible but filled with a newfound resolve.

Relief washed over Kylian's face, followed by a soft smile that lit up his features. He's so beautiful, you thought. He handed you his phone, the screen already lit up with the phone app open. With trembling fingers, you entered your number, feeling nerves twisting in your guts.

"Thank you," he said sincerely as he took back his phone, typing a quick message to ensure your number was saved. Your phone pinged beside you, the screen lighting up with the message 'Hi.' from an unknown number. You couldn't help but smile.

Unbeknownst to you, Kylian saw it. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever met. And he's met a lot of women. It was no secret to the world that Kylian Mbappé was a heartthrob, sought after by many.

But in that quiet moment at the bookstore counter, he gave himself to you. Mind, soul, and hopefully if all goes according to his plan, body.

He was yours.

He emptied out the space in his heart and placed you there, a refuge from the stormy world you knew too well. It scared him what he was ready to do for you. After all, he didn't even know you.

And yet, in that instant, everything felt right. His instincts, usually so finely tuned on the field, told him that you were worth the risk.

As he glanced at his brother, who was waiting impatiently by the door, Kylian knew he had to go, yet he couldn't bring himself to leave just yet.

"I have to run," he said reluctantly, his voice tinged with regret. "But I really want to talk to you more. Can we meet sometime?"

His question once again made you hesitate. But looking into his soft brown eyes made you melt. So you decided right then that you would enjoy his company for as long as he wanted you and would mourn his loss when he would eventually leave.

You nodded, unable to hide the smile that crept across your face. "Sure," you managed to say, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness.

"Great," he replied, his smile widening. "I'll text you."

With that, he squeezed your hand gently before turning to leave with his brother, who was now calling him urgently. You watched them walk away, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you—hope, disbelief, and a hint of fear.

As the door closed behind them, you leaned back against the counter, replaying the brief encounter in your mind. Could this be real? Was this some sick prank your stepsister was playing on you?

The last thought wasn't far-fetched considering all the other horrible things she had done to you. But for once you hope with all your might that it wasn't.

You glanced at your phone, seeing his message still displayed. The word "Hi." seemed to hold so much promise.

For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you could be happy.

****

The weeks that followed were amazing.

Every time your phone buzzed with a message from Kylian, your heart skipped a beat. He was surprisingly persistent, often texting just to check in, share something funny, or ask about your day. Each conversation felt like a lifeline, a small escape from the turmoil of your daily life.

It felt good to have someone care.

You met Kylian a few more times after that encounter at the bookstore.

He would invite you to charming little places tucked away in the quieter parts of the city, where the two of you could talk for hours without interruption. Where you could forget the bad shit in your life and simply enjoy his company.

Kylian was easy to talk to, his presence soothing and his laughter infectious. He listened with genuine interest when you spoke, his eyes never leaving yours as if you were the girl person in the world. The only thing that mattered.

He introduced you to a side of life you had never known—A life you had only ever dreamed about. A complete contrast to the coldness you were used to. A glimpse of what could be if you dared to dream.

But as much as light Kylian brought into your life, doubts gnawed at you.

How long until he left you? How long until he saw the bruises you couldn’t hide? The pain you couldn't mask?

You feared the day he would look at you with pity or, worse, regret. Each time he texted or called, a small part of you braced for disappointment.

But that day never came.

Instead, he surprised you. Time and time again. Like right now.

You stood outside the bookstore, your breath fogging up in the cool evening air. Kylian had texted you earlier, asking if you could meet him after your shift.

His messages were usually funny and easygoing, but this one had a sort of seriousness that made you nervous.

As you waited, you replayed last night. He had Facetimed you late into the night, just to chat about nothing and everything. Like you usually did, but something was different that time. He was flirting with you.

At first, you thought it was just your imagination. How could Kylian Mbappé possibly have a crush on you? But as the night wore on and the playful glint in his eyes and compliments got more and more obvious, you couldn't deny it anymore.

Not with the way he looked at you through the screen. The way his voice softened when he said your name—it all pointed to one undeniable truth.

One you were too afraid to face.

"Hey," a familiar voice called out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You turned to see Kylian's head peeking out of his G-Wagon, waving at you. His smile was as bright as ever, making your heart race.

"Hey," you replied, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach. You walked over quickly, excited.

As you approached the car, he opened the passenger door for you, always the gentleman. "Hop in," he said, his tone cheerful but with an undertone of something more serious.

You settled into the seat, the warmth of the car contrasting to the chilly evening outside. Kylian glanced at you, his eyes lingering on your face a moment longer than usual. "You okay?" he asked, his voice softening.

You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a bit tired from work."

He seemed to accept your answer, though his eyes still held a hint of concern. "I thought we could hang out at my place," he said, starting the car.

Your heart skipped a beat.

"Sure," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flurry of emotions within you. You had never been to his place. The idea of spending time at his place felt both thrilling and intimidating.

The drive was filled with easy conversation, Kylian telling you about his day at training and a funny story about Hakimi and Ousmane. You laughed at his stories, feeling more at ease with each passing minute.

It wasn't long before you arrived at his apartment, marveling at the modern building towering above you. Kylian led you inside, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, a touch that made your skin tingle.

His place was spacious and elegant, filled with personal touches that made it feel warm and inviting. You noticed photographs of his family, friends, and teammates scattered around, giving you an intimate glimpse into his life.

"Make yourself at home," he said, smiling as he gestured to the living room. "Want something to drink? Water, juice, maybe some tea?"

"Tea please," you replied, settling onto the large plush couch. You watched as he moved to the kitchen, his movements fluid and graceful. It was hard to believe that he was real sometimes. You felt lucky that you got to know him like this. See him like this.

When he returned with two steaming mugs, you accepted yours gratefully, wrapping your hands around it for warmth. He sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the heat from his body.

"So," he began, his tone casual but his eyes serious. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

Oh, no.

Your heart skipped a beat, anxiety creeping in. Was this it? Was this him leaving you? Telling you he didn't want to be friends with you anymore?

But instead of delivering bad news, Kylian's expression softened, his gaze gentle yet determined. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you," he said sincerely, his voice quiet in the cozy ambiance of his living room. "And I want to be honest with you."

You held your breath, unsure of where his words would lead.

"I like you," he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. "More than just as a friend."

Your heart pounded in your chest, disbelief evident on your face. What?

"I've been thinking a lot about us," he confessed, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "About you. And every time I do, I realize how much I care about you. Want to be with you." He reached out, gently holding your hands in his large ones.

Your mind reeled, trying to process his words. Did he really mean what he was saying? Or was this all some cruel joke?

You glanced at him, your eyes meeting his, searching for any hint of it being a lie. But all you saw was sincerity. The same sincerity you had come to know from him.

He truly believed what he was saying. But how?

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Your chest fluttered at the thought of him liking you romantically.

"I mean I want to be with you," he said simply, his eyes holding yours. "As your boyfriend if that's something you want too."

Your heart pounded harder at his words, and you felt a rush of emotions flood through you—surprise, joy, and a lingering trace of fear. The idea of someone like Kylian wanting to be with you romantically seemed almost too good to be true.

"I... I don't know what to say," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly despite your efforts to steady it. You looked down at your hands, unsure of how to process your feelings.

Kylian squeezed your hands gently, his touch reassuring. "You don't have to say anything right now," he said softly. "Take your time. I just wanted you to know how I feel."

His words were comforting, his presence grounding. You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze once more. "I... I like you too," you confessed, "But... I don't know if you should." Your voice was shaky as you whispered the words.

Kylian's brows furrowed at your words.

"Why shouldn't I?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. His concern was evident in his eyes, but there was also a determination that showed he would be easily dissuaded.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking. "Because... because I'm not... I'm not who you think I am," you admitted quietly, feeling vulnerable. "There are things about me... things I haven't told you."

Kylian listened attentively, his expression softening as he waited for you to continue. "I have a lot of baggage," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "And... and sometimes things happen that... that I can't control." You glanced down, unable to meet his gaze. "I don't want to burden you with my problems."

He was silent for a moment, processing your words. When he spoke again, his voice was steady, soft, loving. "You're not a burden," he said firmly, lifting your chin gently so you had to meet his gaze. The intensity in them made your heart beat faster. "Whatever you've been through, whatever you're facing... you don't have to face it alone." His eyes searched yours. "I care about you," he continued softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "And I want to be there for you, in whatever way you'll let me."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "But... what if... what if you find out things about me and you..." Your voice broke, the fear of rejection clawing at your heart. You couldn't lose him. Not with how well he treats you. How he makes you feel. You need him.

Kylian's expression softened even more, his eyes desperately trying to convey the deep affection he felt for you. "I'm not going anywhere," he said gently, his words filled with conviction. "I want to know all of you, Y/N. The good, the bad, everything." He paused, giving you a moment to absorb his words. "If you'll let me."

You searched his eyes, finding only sincerity. You were so used to people lying to you that you had become a master at sniffing it out. But his eyes held no lie. Only truth. A truth that made your heart explode.

Maybe, just maybe, this could be real. A chance at happiness you never thought possible.

"I... I want to try," you said finally, your voice wavering. You cleared your throat and repeated, "I want to be with you."

A smile spread across Kylian's face at your words. Yes, he thought doing a little victory dance in his head. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands still gently holding yours. "Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Thank you for giving us a chance."

The stare between the two of you grew heavy, a longing for something more.

As if sensing your thoughts, Kylian's eyes dropped to your lips, his gaze lingering there a moment before moving back to meet your eyes. "May I kiss you?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of his lips on yours. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible but dripping with need.

Without hesitation, Kylian leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that felt like coming home. It was a slow, tender kiss that sent shivers down your spine and made your heart flutter in your chest. Your first kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in him, your hearts beating in tandem.

When the kiss ended, it left you breathless, Kylian smiling against your lips. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. "And I'm never letting you go."

****

The warm air from the heater greeted you as you walked further into your house. You were just coming back from the library after completing a group project that was due next week.

It had gone well, despite the stress the people you were working with brought you.

Your mind wandered briefly to Kylian, as it often did now whenever you found a moment of peace. You guys were official now. And every moment has been nothing but pure bliss.

You finally felt like you were starting to understand what happiness was.

You closed the door behind you sighing with relief, grateful for the warmth after enduring the cold at the bus stop. You missed the first bus and had to wait for the second one in the freezing cold. All you wanted now was to get into bed and text Kylian until you feel asleep.

You were taking off your shoes when you felt it. A hand yanking the back of your hair, pulling your head backward. You tried to scream but a slap silenced you.

"Thought you were smart, didn't you?" your stepmother spat, her voice filled with malice. "Thought you could fool us? You whore!" She let go of your hair, giving you a hard shove. You stumbled backward, landing on your hands and knees.

"So this is why you've been coming back home with that stupid smile on your face every day. You're fucking Kylian Mbappé," she hissed, her eyes blazing with anger.

Your heart sank.

How did she know? Had your stepsister told her? How did they find out?

You had to get out of there or they would...

You scrambled to your feet, ready to run, but a kick in your stomach sent you falling back down. Your stepmother loomed over you, her eyes wild with rage. "You fucking slut!" She kicked you hard in the ribs. "You little whore!" She kicked you again, making you double over in pain. "You will regret ever looking at him," she threatened as she continued to beat you. You were powerless against her kicks and slaps.

She stopped finally, panting. "Get up," she snarled, her voice filled with hate. "Now!"

You struggled to get up, your body screaming in pain. Your stepsister was watching you with hatred in her eyes. She was holding your phone. The same phone that had the lock screen image of you and Kylian from a recent outing. His arm was around your shoulders, both of you laughing at something silly he had said.

The picture had been taken by a fan who had asked to take a photo with Kylian. But she had noticed him put his arm around you, and instead of asking for a selfie, she had snapped a photo of the two of you instead.

It was your favorite picture, something you looked at whenever you needed to be reminded that all of this was real. That you weren't dreaming. That someone like Kylian truly cared for you.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you watched your stepsister throw your phone on the floor, her heel stomping on it.

The screen shattered under her heel.

You wanted to cry, but you were too scared. You had seen the anger in your stepmother's eyes. You knew you would be dead if you cried.

"You'll pay for this," your stepsister sneered, glaring at you with all the hate in the world.

You yelped as your stepmother grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. "You'll learn your place," she snarled, her breath hot against your ear. "And we'll teach you."

A whimper escaped you as she dragged you toward the basement, your stepsister following close behind.

You knew what was coming.

Your heart raced with fear as they dragged you towards the basement, the familiar dread tightening your chest. Each step hurt you as they dragged you down them. They would leave bruises that would last weeks. You know this from experience.

Your mind raced looking for a way out, but finding none. There never was. But for some reason, you held out hope.

The basement door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room that smelled of dampness and decay. This was where they often took their anger out on you, where their punishments lurked in the shadows, waiting to be inflicted.

You trembled as they shoved you forward, the concrete floor cold against your hands and knees.

"Please," you managed to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. But your stepmother's grip on your hair tightened, silencing any further plea. The air thickened as they circled around you. Like vultures. Predators.

And you were the prey.

"You think you're better than us," your stepsister spat, her face contorted with venom. "Fucking him just because he's famous. Pathetic. He doesn't want you anyway, look at you."

You bit back tears, fighting the urge to scream, knowing it would only provoke them further. Her words stung more than the cuts on your body. And your mind started to believe her.

Maybe she was right.

Pain seared through you as another blow landed. In the haze of torment, you closed your eyes, desperately clinging to the memory of Kylian's warmth, his gentle words.

His face, his smile, the way he defended you against the world. You would miss him.

You knew this was the end. You could feel it.

Your body was numb and you were dipping in and out of consciousness, the pain and fear overwhelming. As darkness threatened to consume you, memories of Kylian flooded your mind.

You recalled the first time you met him, how his genuine kindness had shattered the walls around your heart. The quiet moments stolen between you, where he'd hold your hand and promise you a future where no one could hurt you. Leaving sweet kisses on your lips.

You'll miss his eyes the most, you think. Those deep, comforting eyes that always saw through your pain and whispered hope into your soul. Even now, battered and broken, he's all you can think of.

As darkness closed in, you clung to the image of him, willing yourself to survive for him, for the promise of a better tomorrow he represented.

Despite the agony, a faint smile flickered on your lips as you drifted into unconsciousness, imagining his arms around you, shielding you from the cruelty of the world.

****

Kylian was a man of instinct.

It's why he dominated on the field and off. His senses were sharp, attuned to the slightest shifts in energy around him. Never missing the slightest detail.

That's why, when he hadn't heard from you all evening, a knot of unease twisted in his gut.

You had always texted him after getting home, no matter how late. It was a routine for you. And you were a very routine-oriented person, so he knew you didn't forget.

As the hours ticked by without a word from you, Kylian's concern grew into a gnawing worry.

He replayed the events of the day in his mind, recalling your smile as you parted ways after he'd dropped you off at the library. The memory brought a bittersweet smile to his lips, but it did little to ease his growing anxiety.

He had offered to pick you but you had declined. You could tell he was tired from training and you didn't know when you would be done. So you told him you would take the bus instead and promised to call him.

He tried calling you, but each attempt went straight to voicemail. Panic began to creep into his chest, tightening with each unanswered ring. He paced his living room, his mind racing through possibilities, none of them pleasant.

Finally, unable to wait any longer, Kylian made a decision. Grabbing his car keys, he headed out into the freezing night, his thoughts consumed with finding you, needing to ensure you were safe.

The drive to your house felt agonizingly long. His foot pressed harder on the accelerator, urging the car to move faster. When he finally pulled up outside your home, a chilling sense of dread settled over him. Something wasn't right. At all.

He approached the front door cautiously, his heart hammering in his chest. The warm glow of light spilled out from the windows, contrasting sharply with the darkness that seemed to loom over the house. Kylian hesitated for only a moment before reaching out to knock.

No response.

His knocks grew louder, more insistent, but still, no one answered. Frustration and fear surged within him as he contemplated his next move. With a surge of determination, he tried the doorknob, praying it would yield. To his relief and horror, it did.

As he stepped inside, the silence of the house enveloped him like a suffocating blanket. "Y/N? Mrs. Y/L/N?" he called out, his voice echoing through the hallway. No reply came.

The uneasiness deepened with each step he took further into the house. Every room he checked yielded no sign of you or anyone else. That is, until he reached the basement door.

A chill ran down his spine as he slowly opened the creaking door, revealing a scene that shattered his heart and ignited a rage unlike any he had ever felt. There you were, battered and bruised, huddled on the cold concrete floor.

Unconscious.

Kylian's world froze as he took in the sight before him. His heart shattered into a million pieces at the sight of you, vulnerable and broken on the basement floor. Rage surged through him, raw and primal, as he knelt beside you, gently brushing a strand of hair from your bruised face.

"Y/N, baby" he whispered, his voice choked with anguish and disbelief. "What have they done to you?"

His hands trembled as he carefully lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. The bruises on your skin, the cuts that marred your once vibrant spirit, filled him with a fury he could barely contain. Tears blurred his vision as he held you close, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance, though he knew you couldn't hear him in your unconscious state.

He doesn't remember when or how he called the ambulance, but he did.

All he could focus on was you, your safety, your well-being. The minutes waiting for help felt like an eternity, his heart pounding with fear.

When the paramedics arrived, Kylian reluctantly let them take you, his hands lingering on yours as they wheeled you away. He couldn't bear to leave your side, but he knew he had to. He had justice to seek for what had been done to you.

He would make sure they rot. They would burn for what they did to you.

Hours passed in a blur of interviews, statements, and waiting. Kylian refused to rest, his mind consumed with thoughts of you, praying silently for your recovery. He felt powerless, haunted by the image of your broken form in that basement, unable to protect you when you needed him most.

Finally, a doctor approached him with news. You were stable, physically battered but stable. Your ribs were broken and there were numerous bruises and cuts. Burns covered your arms but the doctor said they were old.

The burns he had seeen the first time he met you.

With each word that exited the doctor's he felt himself get weaker and weaker.

Just what have you been going through? And how had he not seen it? He felt like a horrible boyfriend. He had promised to protect but he failed. He failed you.

Kylian stayed by your side as much as the hospital allowed, holding your hand, talking to you, silently willing you to wake up and tell him that you would be okay.

He had called his mother the first night he stayed at the hospital. He knew he would have to leave you to answer police questions and the only person he trusted you to was her.

She was beside him the second he called. She knew something was wrong. He couldn't hide it anymore.

He had broken down in his mother's arms. Telling her everything.

She listened and didn't interrupt him once. She hugged him tighter, kissed his cheek, and whispered 'I'm proud of you' over and over. Then she sat next to him, waiting for you to wake up.

****

The first thing you felt when you woke up was his hand in yours. You blinked, disoriented, trying to recall what happened, but your mind was hazy and clouded. One of your eyes was swollen shut, making it hard to see clearly.

Pain radiated through your body, each breath sending sharp stabs through your chest. You groaned softly, the sound catching Kylian's attention instantly.

"Y/N," he whispered, there was a tremble to his words. "You're awake."

You turned your head towards him, your good eye focusing on his tear-streaked face. His fingers tightened around yours, as if afraid you might slip away again.

"Kylian..." Your voice was weak, barely more than a rasp, but the relief in his eyes was palpable.

"Shh, don't try to talk," he murmured, gently brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. "You're safe now. You're in the hospital. Everything's going to be okay."

You tried to nod, but the effort was too much. Instead, you squeezed his hand lightly, a silent acknowledgment of his words. Kylian's gaze never left your face, his eyes filled with love. Anguish.

The weight of your suffering was etched deeply into his features. He wished he could take your pain away. Switch places with you. Shield you. Protect you from all this. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I should have been there. I should have known."

You wanted to reassure him, to tell him it wasn't his fault, but the pain and exhaustion were too overwhelming. Instead, you gave his hand another gentle squeeze, hoping he understood.

Kylian leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if trying to transfer his strength to you. The quiet hum of the hospital room, the distant beeping of machines, and the rhythmic pulse of your heartbeat were the only sounds, grounding him in this moment.

His mother, who had been silently watching from the corner of the room, approached with a soft smile. "She's awake, Kylian. That's a good sign," she whispered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Kylian nodded, though the tightness in his chest didn't ease. He was grateful for his mother's presence. Her calm strength a lifeline in this sea of chaos. She had always been his rock, and now she would be yours. Extending that strength to you.

She turned to you and softly introduced herself, "Hi, Y/N. I'm Fayza, Kylian's mother. You're safe now, darling. We will take care of you. You just make sure you get as much rest as possible."

You managed a faint smile, your eyes tearing up at the warmth and kindness in her eyes. For the first time in your life, you felt the love of a mother.

Her words washed over you like water, drowning you in the security that only a maternal figure can make you feel. The tears that you desperately tried to hold in spilled over, tracing silent paths down your cheeks.

Fayza reached out, gently wiping them away with her palm and you found yourself leaning into her touch. But she didn't seem to mind. The room, despite its clinical sterility, seemed a little less cold with her there.

The days that followed were a blur of medical treatments and police interviews. Kylian stayed by your side.

He was there every moment he could be. Fayza took turns with him, ensuring you were never alone. Bring you food that she made and making sure you have everything you need. Especially love.

The police investigation moved forward, and Kylian was relentless in his pursuit of justice for you. He spent hours with the authorities, providing every detail he could remember, every scrap of evidence he could find. His determination was fueled by the image of you in that basement, a memory that haunted him and drove him forward.

Throughout your recovery, Kylian's teammates and friends offered their support. You were scared to meet them at first, afraid they would hate you for dragging their friend into your mess.

But they loved you. Becoming super overprotective and treating you like a little sister. They visited the hospital often, bringing flowers, cards, food. Anything you wanted.

Physical therapy was the hardest.

Your body was broken, to say the least. Fractured collar bone, multiple broken ribs, a bruised lung, and a concussion that seemed to cloud your thinking.

Everyday was a battle a war within yourself.

Kylian was your constant companion through it all, encouraging you during the grueling sessions, holding your hand when the pain became unbearable.

It was weird at first having someone care for you like that.

But Kylian made it easy.

He learned your routine, anticipated your needs, and cheered your small victories as if they were monumental achievements. His love and patience never wavered, even on your toughest days. He was your anchor.

The worst of it was when he saw your scars for the first time helping you get ready for a bath.

He had been so careful, so gentle, as he helped you undress, but the moment his eyes fell on them, his breath caught in his throat. The sight of them, a cruel testament to the pain you had endured, tore at his heart.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling suddenly exposed, vulnerable under his gaze. Ugly. He was the first guy to see you like this and you hated how this bruised body was all you had to offer. But he didn't mind.

In fact that was the moment he realized he loved you.

His fingers traced the lines of your scars, as if to erase them. To erase the horrible past that caused them. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Every part of you."

You blinked back tears, overwhelmed by his words. "I don't feel strong," you admitted softly, your voice trembling.

Kylian cupped your face gently in his hands, his eyes locked on yours. "You survived," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "That's strength, Y/N. You're here, fighting every day. That's what matters. And if you can't be strong, let me be your strength. Let me protect you. Let me love you."

You froze at his last sentence.

He had never said those words to you and neither have you to him. Your heart leaped in your chest at the raw honesty of which he said.

This time you didn't hesitate, didn't ponder.

You'd know for a while now that you loved him. How could you not? When he was the man that you prayed for. Your rock, your refuge, your protector, your lover. You loved every inch of this man and Finally. Finally you could tell him.

"I love you too, Kylian Mbappé."

He held you close that night, placing kisses on your shoulder as he held you from behind whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

****

Two years later...

You stood in front of the window, watching the tranquil view. The girl who reflected in the glass looked nothing like the girl from years ago. Your smile was radiant, your eyes sparkling with a happiness that only true love could bring.

Kylian had proposed to you six months ago, after the trial was over. Your family had been found guilty. Turns out your stepmother and sister were on the run. They thought they killed you that night so they fled, along with your father.

The thought of them being okay with just leaving your corpse to rot in the basement made your stomach turn every time you thought about it.

You shook the thoughts away. you weren't about to let them ruin your day. not anymore.

Your wedding was small. A private ceremony with close friends and family. You had chosen a beautiful vineyard as the setting, overlooking rolling hills and sun-kissed grapevines. The familiar scent of roses and freshly cut grass filled the air, mingling with the laughter of your guests.

The afternoon sun bathed everything in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows that danced along the paths between rows of vines.

Kylian stood at the end of the aisle, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that still made your heart skip a beat. He wore a classic black tuxedo that accentuated his tall, athletic frame. Looking absolutely amazing.

You really married him.

Ethan walked you down the aisle. The two of you had gotten really close after Kylian had officially introduced you. He considered you family, a big sister. Someone he could come to for advice, which he often did. He was super protective sometimes rivaling Kylian.

Which was saying something.

Ever since Kylian found you in that basement, battered and bruised, he felt this urge to always be by your side. This urgent need. It scared him sometimes, how much he loved you. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

You were his whole world. The love of his life. His last love. The reason his heart beats.

As Ethan placed your hand in Kylian's, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting everyone in a warm, golden light. Kylian looked like he was glowing. You will never forget that view for as long as you live.

Now that you were closer, you realized he was crying. You smiled at your groom, feeling the weight of your love for him in your chest.

Kylian's eyes locked on yours, love pouring out of them. You knew he would love you for all eternity. And you loved him the same. You were home.

"I love you," you whispered softly, looking into his eyes.

Kylian's lips curved into a sweet smile, his voice filled with emotion. "Je t'aime, mon âme."

The officiant pronounced you husband and wife, and Kylian swept you into a passionate kiss, the cheers of your guests fading into the background. In his arms, you felt whole, complete.

And you both knew that no matter what came next, you would face it together. You had found each other in this chaotic world, and nothing else mattered.

The feel of arms wrapping around your waist pull you out of your daydream as soft kisses are placed on your shoulder. You lean back into Kylian's embrace, smiling as his lips travel up your neck.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" he asks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

You turn around, meeting his eyes.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you," you reply honestly. "About how much you've changed my life."

Kylian's arms tighten around you. "You're the one that's changed my life, Y/N. You're my reason for living." He tilts your chin up, capturing your gaze. "And I promise you, mon amour, that I'll love you until the day I die. That I'll make you happy for all eternity. Je t'aime." He seals his promise with a burning kiss.

The type that leaves your skin burning and heat pooling between your thighs.

His arms around you grow tighter as his kiss grows deeper. Soon he's walking you backwards to the bed. You fall on your back with a laugh but it's silenced by another kiss.

He starts to take off his shirt. You can barely think straight at the sight of his abs. Even after two years of having him to yourself you still get weak in the knees. Your panties already damp from that kiss.

His lips start traveling south as he pulls up the shirt you're wearing(his), exposing your body to him. The softness of the bed comforts your back as his heavy form press more into you. You gasp into his wet mouth, feeling his covered hardness press against your thigh.

His hands push up your shirt and massage the softness of your tummy on his way up to your covered breast. He backs from your lips to look at your fluttering eyes. “Can I?” his voice deep with lust and adoration for you, no matter how many times the two of you do this, he’s never lost the habit of asking.

“Always,” you whisper against his swollen lips, pulling him back into your lips. He lifts your shirt over your head and unclasps your bra, rubbing his thumbs over your harding buds. You moan from the contact into his mouth, a soft groan from his throat in response.

“Kylian,” your voice goes up an octave from the fire of his touches.

“Trésor,” he responds, kissing down your chin to your neck, placing soft kisses into your supple skin. “Je t'aime.”

His fingers slip down to the hem of your panties, pulling them off in one quick motion. He kisses down your belly, placing light kisses all the way down to your inner thigh. You whine, spreading your thighs in invitation.

“Patience, my love,” he chuckles, his breath fanning over your covered heated core. “I want to make you come on my tongue.”

Your eyes flutter close at his words.

He tugs your jeans and underwear off, discarding them somewhere in the spacious hotel room.

His grip is tight on your thighs as he gets down so he's at eye level with your cunt. He groans at the sight, wet and inviting.

A treat.

He places a soft kiss on the folds before taking in as much of you as he can into his mouth. He's good, really good. Your body arches and twitches with every moan ripped from your throat.

He's messy too, with loud slurping and quick inhales mixed with groaning coming from between your legs. You get louder as a coil begins to tighten in your gut, feeling his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it feverishly.

"You taste so fucking good baby. Mhm, love this pussy. Love you." He whispers against your folds. The vibrations send sparks flying throughout your whole body. You can feel yourself getting closer.

A white heat floods your senses as the coil snaps, reaching your toes as you spasm. Kylian drinks up every drop, getting drunk on your taste, chuckling as you push against his head to get him away.

He sits up, chin glistening with your arousal eyes locked on yours, and wipes the excess off with the back of his hand, smirking down at you with lust-blown eyes. “You’re so fucking pretty like this, mon coeur,” He leans down and kisses your neck, nibbling on your skin, making you gasp and whimper.

“Kylian,” you whimper as he presses your leg against your chest. His smile flatters once again, the indents of his nails on your skin now noticeable. He hovers over you, his body covering yours, your small frame drowning in him.

His hand trails down and your eyes follow. He wasn’t small by any means of the word, very much the opposite. Girthy, long, and beautiful. You love every inch of him.

You place your hand against his jaw, bringing his attention to your face. Flushed, teary-eyed, lips puffy and bruised. “Please, I need you,” you whisper, voice already showing signs of another orgasm. Just the thought of him inside you was enough.

He leans down and kisses your nose, pressing his forehead against yours. And with a nod, his weeping tip pushes past your folds and is embraced by soft, clingy gummy walls.

He groans at the feeling, kissing away the tears of pure pleasure that break from your lashes at the intrusion. “You're so tight. Feels so good. Putain,” he whispers into your ear, holding you close as he pushes in. His towering form shadows the lights from your eyes, the difference in size making your head dizzy.

He lets out a startled moan as his hips slam into yours, listening to your guttural moans. “Merde, breathe, breathe baby,” he coos, massaging the tensed muscles of your stomach and hips.

You’re not a virgin by any means but with him, it always feels like the first time. It could have been his size, it could have been that he was the only man to have you. Or maybe, it was because this connection meant more than sex.

You're enveloped in his love. This is otherworldly. Nothing could ever make you feel like this. Feel this good. Nothing. No one.

You giggle and that giggle turns into a laugh, Kylian staring confused, eyebrow-raising.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh but I’m just so in love with you,” You smile, rubbing his arms and pulling him closer. And you mean that with every fiber of your being. You never thought you'd be here. In the arms of the man you love. The man who loves you. It's bliss.

“I love you,” you say again to his shocked face, nothing but the truth in your eyes. You wiggle your leg out from under him and wrap them around his waist, heels tapping his toned ass. Kylian shivers before engulfing you in his embrace, tucking his face into your hair.

“Say it again,” he whispers, rocking his hips into you.

“I love you,” you groan, bliss shooting up your spine. His pace was slow, deep.

“Again,” he hisses, you said it again and again and again, with each time his thrust increases. His breathing is shallow and the wet sounds of your bodies echo through the room. Your poor neighbors. “I love you,” he chokes out through his pants and moans.

The heat of his body invades yours and you feel like you're melting into each other. Sweat from his chest drips onto your lashes and you blink it out, moans bouncing off the walls as his pace quickens, more forceful, slamming into that spot deep inside of you.

“Ohmygod,” you squeal, “Kylian–I-” he slams his lips into yours swallowing all of your sounds. His voice pitches up as his moans increase, breathing heavily onto your face.

His pretty face scrunches up as a loud grunt rips from his mouth, the warmth being dumped inside of you sending you over, clamping down on him harder, gaining a wince from him.

He places his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged as he stares into your eyes before collapsing onto you, spent and satisfied. His weight comforting, grounding.

You lay there for a while, you rubbing his back as he places kisses on your neck and whispers praises in your ear.

And to think that you would have this forever, have him forever. The thought brings a smile to your lips and you kiss his shoulder.

This man was your everything. your love, your protector, your soulmate. you were his world, his heart beating only for you. He healed you with his love.

Your Kylian.

-Bianca🌻

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