#slow burn but also love at first sight and then also friends to lovers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kooktrash · 2 months ago

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effortlessly yours ✧ jeon jungkook

summary: in an effort to catch a break from the people around him, jungkook stumbles into a bar on the other side of town and meets you—the one serving his drinks. things happen quite effortlessly between you and before you knew it, you’ve welcomed him to change your life for the better.

✧ genre/au: banker!jk x bartender!y/n [she/her. afab]. strangers to lovers. smut.

✧ 16.9k words

warnings: smut. heavy plot. oc is lowkey broke as helll and jk is lowkey a chaebol but humble fr 😩. princess treatment. beware oc’s ex is taehyung and he’s not great. slow burn. smut—riding. missionary. oral [both receiving]. heavy make outs. heavy petting. breast play. use of protection. needy af. — jk’s friends kinda rude but also not? rich boys. financial problems. mention of economic differences. damn near love at first sight. everyone’s an ex boyf hater. oc forced to live with ex bc of money. love at first sight? jk is whipped :(. for once he’s not a fighter, he’s just a pretty boy with money to spoil his gf <3

song inspo: wasn’t looking — eliza, love between — kali uchis, blue — billie eilish, salvatore— lana del rey, I wanna be yours — arctic monkeys

I forgot but god bless @vngelicc for putting up with my constant plot changes and helping me out 💀

Many of your nights have been spent at this small place serving drinks to the same people, engaging in the same conversation, going through the same thing. Without a fail you’ve lived in this cycle of mundaneness and it drive you insane.

Nothing ever happened to you and when it did, it was never for the better. That’s what you’ve always thought anyway.

“Any Macallan? I'll have a glass,” You stared at the stranger with a blank expression, he met you with an unwavering gaze looking every bit out of place here as you felt.

He’s asking if you carry an expensive bottle of Bourbon that a place like this could not afford keeping in stock. If you did, no one here would want to pay the price of a glass. Compared to the regulars around the bar he clearly stood out to everyone. The college guys who lived a couple blocks down looked at him just as strangely as the two office workers down the bar did.

“We’ve got Buchannan’s,” You said plainly, taking his attention away from the aged jukebox in the corner that now had a big screen attached to it. It was your typical bar with its dark countertops, pool tables, darts, et cetera. It was the first place he could find on this side of town—clearly not a place of luxury.

“I’ll take it,” He tried to sound happy about it, biting down at his bottom lip as his phone screen lit up with notifications. He had nearly a dozen texts from close friends asking him what his plans were for tonight but he didn’t want to talk right now and they’d want to know why.

Soon you had his glass of whiskey in front of him and he was opening a tab while you helped others. You didn’t think much about the man aside from how attractive he looked. Many stragglers found their way here but after one night they’d return to wherever they’re from and never look back.

“You drink that expensive whiskey because you like it or because you can afford it?”

An older man spoke up from across the bar, looking at the stranger with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. He’s one of those guys that gets a few drinks in him and either wants to spark conversation or a fight. Part of you paid attention to the conversation, part of you looked at the line of messages on your phone.

“I’m sorry?” The guy from earlier asked seemingly unimpressed by the attempt to get to him. The older man was dressed in a dirty t-shirt and flannel while he wore some expensive suit like he’d just gotten off work.

“Or is it to impress?”

“Impress who?” A light scoff left his lips, looking around the bar, eyes hesitating on you for a moment. Aside from you there were a few others who might catch his eye but not enough for him to point out or feel the need to impress.

You weren’t even looking at anyone or him for that matter, your attention was solely on your cell phone and by the look on your face, whatever was on there was more important. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth and your brows began to furrow with concentration as you tried to make sense of what you were seeing.

unknown: can we talk when ur done working?

unknown: it’s about us

What?

“Y/n maybe? I doubt any of us are your type—“

What? You looked up immediately at the call of your name, ready to make someone another cocktail or close someone’s tab. Instead you were called in the middle of a conversation that you wanted no part of.

“Another beer?” You tried to cut in and shut the regular up but it was a useless attempt because everyone around the bar was already staring at you—including the stranger. How did you miss whatever they were talking about? You were too focused on the texts from a certain someone that you had lost attention to people at the bar.

“What is your name anyway? I’ve never seen you here before,” The customer told him, ignoring you and trying to push for more talk. You just sighed and leaned back thinking back to your phone.

“Jeon Jungkook,” He said in his usual confident manner, gaze flickering to you for a moment but you were distracted once more, this time typing rapidly. You were pretty, too pretty to be serving these guys on a Tuesday night.

Another man appeared from behind a door holding more bottles of liquor. He looked indifferent to whatever was going on out here but when he looked at you, you said something. Jungkook was more interested to hear what that was than whatever the people around him had to say.

The two of you talked for a while and he distracted himself with his phone.

hobi: doubles tomorrow with jimin and jin? 🎾

jungkook: I couldn’t think of anything worse

jimin: watch urself

jin: and where’d u run off to tonight

Your coworker, Yoongi, looked at you with concerned eyes. You’ve known each other long enough to know when somethings wrong and Yoongi was able to tell so fast, “If you need to make a call just go, I’ll take over for now.”

His friend asked the question he’s been trying to ask himself all night. How’d he find himself here on the other side of the city with the only people to entertain him being drunks and… you?

“Is he always like this?” Jungkook found himself asking now that the man from earlier had moved on to someone else to bother. You looked ready to run out but stopped to look at him. Yoongi was giving you time to sort whatever problem you had at the moment but now a customer was talking to you.

You shrugged, “Yeah but he’s harmless, a little annoying but funny.”

jungkook: some bar but I’m leaving soon

Jungkook looked at you up close now. You wore all black, somewhere between casual but dressed up enough. From what he can tell you’re pretty, like an effortless kind of pretty. You barely cared to engage with him, completely unaware of how he looked you over.

“Can I close my tab?” He asked as he fished for his wallet.

“No problem, remind me the name,” Yoongi came up from behind you, hand on your back urging you to go and he’ll take care of it. Jungkook looked at him with disinterest as you ran off in a hurry and sighed, “Jeon Jungkook.”

jungkook: it’s boring

The place he called home was about thirty minutes away from the bar he visited a few nights ago. He lived on the upper side of the city where buildings towered sky high and rent was at high rates, lavish nightlife and lounge rooms he could spend all night in drinking with his friends. That’s why it baffled him to sit somewhere like the place he’d gone to and feel so comfortable. It felt secretive, a mutual understanding of where one goes when they want to be alone and have a drink—no matter how bad it is. He wouldn’t have been able to do that around here without running into someone.

“Have you decided who your date will be?”

No, he had not. In fact it was the last thing on his mind and something Jungkook would prefer to fully ignore. It’s all he’s heard about for the past month and he doesn’t think he can go any longer talking about it. A date to a charity event hosted by his parents was too overwhelming of a task. They have to be polite, well maintenanced, proper, et cetera. He’s sure he can call up whatever woman he’d taken on a date these last couple of years but not a single one did he find… good enough? Terrible phrasing but the truth.

“Have you?” Jungkook asked one of his close friends, Hoseok, as the two sat in his office wasting time before they could be done for the day. His office sat on one of the top floors of a national banking center just a few minutes from where he resided. He sat behind his black oak wood desk spinning a pointed leather opener against his notepad creating a small dent in it.

“Obviously,” Hobi rolled his eyes playfully, making Jungkook look at him seriously. “Will she be as embarrassing as the one last time?”

“I hope not, last year’s date was a total mess. I couldn't look your parents in the eye for three months,” He said back, sitting down on the black leather daybed just a few feet away from Jungkook. The office was big with tall bookshelves and floor to ceiling windows overlooking skyscrapers and the Han River not too far behind. There was a desktop with two monitors along with a laptop and television, a closet and storage room—even a few dumbbells and a treadmill in the corner. “Do you know how hard that is when your father’s the CFO of the company I work for?!”

“I couldn’t imagine the difficulty of that,” Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle knowing firsthand how his dad can be when he feels disrespected—especially in front of the press while hosting an important, annual event.

“I’ve got dinner with the girl tonight, she’s been telling me about this friend who’s been dying to meet you,” Hoseok said with raised brows, “She’s pretty hot.”

“Who? The girl or her friend?” Jungkook asked, typing away on his desktop, searching for the bar he’d visited the other night. There was very little overview about the place, but he didn’t expect much anyway. It looked like it brought a decent amount of business to get by but nothing more than that. You must’ve been local to the area or why would you be working there? Hell, for how little you seemed interested in him, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. What was it that got his attention?

“Both,” Hoseok said in response.

Jungkook let out a small sigh watching the time pass by, “I’ll think about it.”

It was unlikely he ever would, he thought, attempting to focus back on his friend and who he was talking about. As arrogant as it might sound, there’s always someone dying to meet him. Usually it never works out and instead it’s used as a bragging right that they were taken out by him. He would like to meet someone organically, nothing forced or ingenuine. Someone he runs into and charms them without his reputation involved. How could he meet someone like that?

There was moisture lingering in the air as you left the small cafe you worked at during the week. It was midday and you wouldn’t have to be at work again till later tonight so the only thing on your mind was a good sleep.

You barely made it onto the bus when your phone began to ring and you put on your headphones to answer, “Hello?”

“Great, you’re alive. I was getting paranoid after the third ring,” Your friend said immediately once the call connected, “Are you off!”

“Yeah, until tonight,” You told her, staring out the foggy window of the overcrowded midday bus.

“Is Taehyung home? You want to come to mine instead?” Yeaun asked, sounding concerned but you just shook your head no even if she couldn’t see it.

“It’s alright, he’s not home anyway,” You said to her with a sigh, “I live there too and if he’s going to make a problem or it then maybe he should move out sooner.”

Yeaun was quiet for a moment, not sure if you were being serious or not. Or course it’s not the first time you and your ‘boyfriend—ex boyfriend—boyfriend’ break it off suddenly but this is different. You live with each other now and have for a few months. Why would Taehyung ask you to find a place with him if he was going to end it a few months into the lease? What an asshole.

“Alright, well I’ll talk to you later, maybe I’ll stop by the bar and catch up,” Yeaun finally said to which you mumbled back your response and ended the call.

You arrived at an empty apartment with a stack of blankets and pillows on the couch and a large bed with one person claiming it now. You tucked yourself into bed hoping that you ex boyfriend won’t be home when you wake up.

By the time the sun set and the only plan Jungkook had was to go home, he began to think about the place he visited a few days ago. There was nothing special about it but it was somewhat comforting—even with some of the elderly regulars getting on his case, he kind of liked it. It was amusing and harmless banter that he could put up with for some time alone. When he was off and his friend asked him to go out for dinner, Jungkook turned him down to drive across town on his own.

Like last time, the same people sat around the bar but a few new faces took up some of the tables scattered around. You stood behind the counter indulging in conversation with the bartender next to you and Jungkook found himself sitting at the corner of the bar top and away from the loudness.

“I see they didn’t scare you off,” You said once you spotted him alone. There’s not many new people coming by, especially ones that looked like him so he was easy to remember. He looked at you with rounded, curious eyes and shook his head, “Not yet.”

You asked if he wanted the same as last time and once he said yes, you were turning your back to him. He’s going to be honest… he couldn’t help but stare a little longer this time. You wore a short black skirt with dark stockings and a fitted tee making you seem casual and comfortable but at the same time he thought you were pretty. He couldn’t tell if you were into makeup or not but he assumed you’d be attractive either way. Last time you seemed glum, but tonight you were smiling.

“Am I that forgettable?” Jungkook asked when you made your way back to his side, he nodded toward the old man who bothered him last time and how he barely acknowledged him today. He wonders if he asked because he cared or because he wanted to have something to say. There was nothing better going on and unlike before, tonight he's up for talking—to you.

“No, he’s just a Drunk,” You whispered jokingly, moving just a little closer his way. To be honest, he nearly forgot all about you. The two of you had such a small interaction days ago that his life just got in the way. It felt meaningless and like it was never going to happen again but here he is, finding comfort at the little bar you worked at. He couldn’t help but be entertained by it.

“I asked my boss about the bottle you wanted last time and he said we can’t afford it for just one person, so you’re out of luck if you start stopping by more often,” You said casually, looking indifferent but he caught a glimmer of curiosity in your gaze.

“I’ll have to bring you some then,” Jungkook sat up straighter, “Give you a little taste.”

“I’m not into whiskey,” You gave him a small shrug, “I prefer the drinks where I can’t taste the alcohol.”

That made him laugh a little harder than he needed to, “Y/n, right? I think I remember hearing one of them say it.”

Your only form of response was a nod of your head but he didn’t mind the lack of enthusiasm. There’s something about the way you seem reserved but not scared to talk back to him sort of draws him in. You looked at each other with the same intensity and he wanted to see how long it could go.

“Y/n.”

You rushed away from him finding whoever needed help and he thought of what to say.

“So how many nights do you spend working here?” He asked once you came by him again. So far both nights he stumbled into this place you’ve been behind the counter with a blasè look to your eyes. It was a shame considering how pretty you were for you to be stuck behind a counter getting stressed over who knows what.

“Practically all of them,” You sighed leaning against the counter.

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t care for meaningless conversation ike this. It was such a waste of time and he always found himself struggling for what to say.

“So what happened the other night?” He blurted out before he could think clearly. He blames it on the whiskey for sounding so blunt as it rushed to his face. You couldn’t read him as easily as he thought and tried to figure out what he was asking about. The other night?

Oh.

“Nothing too concerning,” You brushed off your breakup with Taehyung hoping he knew nothing. The situation with Taehyung was not someone you wanted everyone to know about—especially not a stranger. It was embarrassing to admit you were still living with your cheating on and off ex boyfriend because it’s better than sleeping outside.

“And here I was hoping for a story time,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, checking his phone and the dozen messages and missed calls. Like earlier, you left him to help someone else and this time instead of him trying to find something to say it was you.

“If you start visiting more regularly maybe I’ll fill you in,” You said half-heartedly.

You’ve always thought—hoped—that home is where the heart would be. You should live in a place that doesn’t give you anxiety or depression. Living in this apartment with your ex boyfriends gives you both. When he was home you’d avoid leaving your bedroom at all and when he’s gone you’re worried about the time he’d get home.

You weren’t scared of him, but you hated him.

The two of you have broken up so many times at this point it’s embarrassing to admit how he has you now. After cheating on you and treating you like shit, you still moved in with him just those few months ago and now you’re paying for it.

“Are you going to work?” He asked curiously as you came out of your now solo bedroom. Taehyung was gentleman enough to sleep on the couch but apparently not enough to keep it in his pants.

“No,” You answered shortly as you slipped your shoes on. For some reason he thinks you’ll forgive him soon. He’s been trying to talk to you about it since the morning after he bothered you at work but you weren’t listening. How could he do something on impulse and expect you to let it go?

Are all men this stupid? Most? Oh, definitely, but surely not all? Who would want to be on good terms with a cheating ex so recent after the breakup?

“What are you gonna do then?”

What he really meant was, “Where were you going and who with?”

“Nothing,” you closed the door after yourself, choosing to shut him out rather than tell him anything. He didn’t need to know your whereabouts. For once you weren’t going to be at work and although you didn’t have big plans for your free night, you weren’t going to tell him or worse—spend it locked up in your room that still had his belongings.

You settled into place at your best friend’s place, filling her in on what’s been exciting or lack thereof.

“Not to feed the delusions but what if he’s stopping to see you?” Yeaun asked as you sat on her couch watching her look through her vinyls for something to play. After a while of telling her boringly endless tales of your life you came to the topic you were currently discussing.

Jeon Jungkook—the irregular-regular who’s begun to frequent the bar lately. Jungkook has been coming by for a few weeks now and although they’re always small interactions with him they leave an impression on you. He’s not like the usual guys who go there for a drink—or anything like the ones when you go out with your friends. Every now and then you wonder if he’s catching a flirty tone with you or not but then you think harder and tell yourself; not likely.

It’s too unbelievable,” You rejected the idea immediately even if it hurt you to do so, you had to be realistic, “He probably has a girlfriend or wife or someone, I don’t know.”

Call it a crush, whatever, nothing would ever come of it and you told your friends the same, “Either way I’m done with men, they’re all shitty.”

Yeaun shrugged, no longer pushing the idea of Jungkook. You haven’t told her anything that made it seem like Jungkook had any interest in you at all so really she was just wishfully thinking. You know very little about the man aside from what the two of you have gone over but it’s enough for you to know it would never happen.

You’re not crazy enough to believe otherwise.

Jungkook spent most of his day dreading for him to leave work and get ready for a dinner plan that was arranged for him. In all honesty, he practically disassociated himself from it the second he heard the tone the woman spoke in. Why did he let Hoseok talk him into doing this?

For nearly an hour he’s had to hear this woman compliment him on everything under the sun. Sure he was flattered but so? Did he really need to hear about himself from someone else? She didn’t seem like a bad girl but she knew too much about him that he never told her. She was too in his space and not understanding to slow down.

“I’m happy our schedules aligned to be able to meet like this,” She said as she picked at her salad, “I know you’re very busy.”

“I’m pleased too,” Jungkook raised his glass of wine to his lips, searching around the restaurant for a clock. Jiwon was a sweet girl but he wasn’t interested for some reason. She was attractive like Hoseok said but he’s not sure what is but there’s something that seems to draw him away from her.

By the time the bill came and she pretended to look through her mini bag for her wallet, Jungkook was ready to call it a night. He never expected someone with him to pay but something just drew him back… seriously what was it? She waited outside with him in hopes of knowing if their night would continue from here or not but Jungkook couldn’t wait to be done. He probably seemed rude with how he brushed her off and directed her into a cab, paying her fare with a lie that he’d see her again, but he couldn’t think of that right now.

It was taxing to meet new people and try to feel anything romantic toward them. Jimin is looking out for Jungkook and he’s well aware of that but Jungkook does not want something forced. He’s not asking for birds chirping and bells chiming but give him something that’ll make him feel things.

When he was alone in his car he found himself taking a familiar route in the opposite direction of his house. He’d left his date with Jiwon and for some reason was heading toward the bar he’s been going to lately. It took him a while to realize where he was going and about a block away he stopped to think.

What was he doing here? He could find any shitty bar where he knew his friends would never go and be just fine. He could be out with his friends or maybe getting to know Jiwon more in hopes of something blooming but instead he was going out alone. It was a bad idea to make this a regular thing. People he knows will begin to question where he goes and invade his privacy, he just knows it.

With a deep sigh he turned the engine off looking up at the brightly lit building in front of him. It was a small convenience store and deciding to not make his drive all the way over here pointless, he went inside.

He is starting to believe the universe in playing a trick on him. Whenever he’s gone to the bar you’ve been working at and tonight he decided not to go… bummed that he wouldn’t see you but clearly the universe had plans that couldn’t get changed. Instead of serving two drinks to customers, you’re walking down a refrigerated section of cheap flower bouquets. It’s like he was going to run into you tonight one way or the other. Just because he wasn’t going the bar after all didn’t mean he could escape you as easily. It was crazy.

You hadn’t yet spotted him as you opened the door to grab one of the cheapest bouquet of orchids you could find. It wasn’t until you were ready to walk back down that you saw him looking a little too interested in the small pints of ice cream. There were two options you could do, One: pretend you don’t know him and head to the counter or Two: acknowledge him? What if he was the kind of person that didn’t like being approached? It would be embarrassing for you.

“No work tonight?”

You stopped in your tracks, ready to walk past him when he spoke up. You looked around shyly, “Not tonight, Is that where you’re headed now?”

“Originally yeah, but good thing I changed my mind. You wouldn’t have been there,” Jungkook said, glancing down at the small shopping basket in your hands. He missed the way your face flushed at the comment, unsure if he meant it flirtatiously or not.

You had the small orchids, a couple ramens and drinks in the basket that made him smile just a little, “I’m assuming you live around here?”

“I wouldn’t be working here if I didn’t,” You say lightly, a smile playing on your face when you saw his, and glanced down at your basket with embarrassment. All Jungkook had in his hand was a single bottle of wine that he grabbed so he wouldn’t look strange approaching you, “Do you live around here too?”

“No, I uh, I’m kind of far actually,” He scratched the back of his head nervously, “But, I was doing some work over here.”

His face tensed at the way he must have sounded lying to you. It wouldn’t have been a good look for him if he said he went on a blind date with someone his best friend set him up with but raced here right after. It feels like the conversation shouldn’t end yet but he doesn’t know how to make it go on. Usually he’s able to tell what he should say to get someone’s attention on him for longer but he doesn’t know with you.

After a while, you began walking toward the register with Jungkook not far behind and you tried to act normal when you set your things down to be checked out.

Please, don’t decline, you thought as you tapped your card to pay. When you were done and hesitating to leave or not, Jungkook spoke up again, “When do you work next?”

“Why? So you’ll visit me?” You asked him with a little more enthusiasm. Maybe you were overthinking it but was there a chance that he wanted to talk to you too? It felt like he asked you something so you wouldn’t rush off before he was done paying.

He smiled, pleased to have you respond the way he wanted and he grabbed his things off the counter and turned to walk with you. You held your bag in one hand and your cellphone and wallet in the other and it was hard to miss the way your screen lit up with a phone call. You ignored the ringing but Jungkook was distracted now, “Do you need to take that?”

He held the door open for you wondering if it was your boyfriend or not and if he was just wasting his time. You shook your head, “It's no one important.”

“So you’re not seeing anyone?” Jungkook found himself asking, too impatient to beat around the bush any longer, “Or would you like to see me this weekend—or when you’re free— over drinks?”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, staring up at the handsome man in front of you with a baited breath. Jungkook was attractive, very attractive but did you need to be seeing anyone right now? Sure, it’s been a couple weeks since you and Taehyung fell off but you still live together. If he found out he would lose his shit… but at the same time…

Jungkook was intriguing and charming and so attractive you couldn’t wrap your mind around anything else.

“I’m free this upcoming Sunday.”

Before you split ways, you made sure to exchange information and you were practically rushing to tell your best friend.

jungkook: next time we should have stuck around and talked longer

When Sunday evening rolled in, Jungkook wore one of his black Prada shirts and black jeans. He tried dressing casual but this was as casual as he could go for seeing you out on a night like this.

“I could meet you halfway,” Jungkook insisted on the phone as he stood outside your building. It was a rundown apartment complex just like all the others in the area and even he felt unsafe, he can’t imagine how you feel every night. Okay, maybe he’s not used to anything outside of the private, gated community he grew up with.

“It’s fine, I’ll be down in a second,” You practically whispered as you hurried to hang up. With a final spritz of perfume, you left your bedroom as quiet as possible but it was no use. Taehyung sat there watching you.

“I’ll be back late so don’t wait up,” You practically grumbled as you went to put on your heels.

“Since when do you dress like that?” Taehyung asked with a slight scoff. Unlike your usual attire of baggy pants, sweaters, tees and the occasional skirt, tonight you wore a short, satin pink dress with heels to match. You looked pretty and it annoyed him because he knew why.

“Since I stopped being with you,” You told him, fishing for your key before closing the door on him like last time.

It took a lot of convincing on Jungkook’s part to let you let him pick you up and you had many reasons why. One, you didn’t want him to run into Taehyung or feel awkward. Two, you didn’t want him to drive all the way here if you’d most likely be in the inner city which was on the other side of town. And three, you were slightly embarrassed at your housing complex. You’ve seen Jungkook’s dress attire and the expensive watches, chains, drinking preferences he wears. He’s got money while you’ve got two jobs still struggling to pay your half of the rent on top of all the debt tied to your name.

“Well don’t you look stunning,” Jungkook said with a nervous chuckle as you approached him, eyeing his all black Porsche and how perfectly it matched him. The silk of your dress felt soft against his touch when you hugged him politely in greeting. You were slightly flushed by his comment and let him lead you to the passenger’s side.

“Were you waiting long?” You asked when he got into the driver’s side, looking you over one more time before starting the car.

“A l-little,” Jungkook couldn’t help but feel flustered as you turned your body enough to look at him better. Your dress rode up on your thigh and he tried to focus on the road, “But it’s my fault for being impatient. Next time I’ll give you all the time in the world if I get to see this pretty view.”

To be clear Jungkook has always thought you were attractive but this was different. This wasn’t just him finding the bartender serving him drinks hot or the woman at the convenience store pretty. This was you dressing up for him in a pretty color while sitting pretty in his car and looking at him with your pretty eyes.

“Next time?” You laughed softly, sitting upright and trying not to seem affected, “Don’t make promises just yet. You might not be able to keep them.”

“I always keep my promises,” Jungkook said, diving over the small bridge that separated your neighborhood from the rest of the city.

You went quiet after that, looking out the window curiously. Usually you stick to your area, the bus fare to go shopping downtown or eat at a fancy restaurant wouldn’t be too bad but the time. On the bus it would be at least an hour long drive full of stops everywhere in between and you didn’t have the time to make it a round day trip. It was nice seeing all the city lights when most of your neighborhood is dark aside from the occasional street lamp.

You were pleasantly surprised when he pulled the car in front of a large building and a valet came to the doors, directing you both out of the car. Jungkook instructed the valet on something you didn’t care to hear as you looked around. It was obviously a hotel but with a large restaurant inside.

“Ready?” Jungkook asked, suddenly at your side with a soft hand on your waist and you let him lead you in.

You felt oddly out of place when you looked around at everyone else but Jungkook didn’t seem to care. He was significantly underdressed but that didn’t stop him from pulling attention without meaning to and it made you slightly more comfortable. The restaurant sat on the top floor of a large hotel with a beautiful view of the city and amazing interior as well, “Do you like this place?”

“I have never been here before,” Jungkook admitted as he helped pull your chair, “I’ll give you an answer after dinner.”

“You’ll decide once you’ve gotten food?” You asked playfully but he just shook his head. “I’ll decide when you do.”

You weren’t sure how to respond but something about the way he looked at you told you he was being serious. Has he always been this forward? You didn’t think so. Usually he asked you a couple things and that was it. Or maybe you didn’t think there was any more to it. Sure, sometimes you’d catch him looking from across the bar but you always assumed he just needed something. When he asked you out the other night you assumed it was on a whim but now you’re not so sure.

It was far from a problem but you weren’t sure how to take it. Something tells you Jungkook comes from a different world than you do. When the server came you ordered a drink and tried to focus on the menu. All the prices were high and you couldn’t find anything in your normal price range. There were a lot of good options but what were you willing to choose?

“So, when you think of an ideal type, who comes to mind?” Jungkook asked, picking around his plate. The two of you had talked about practically everything you could on a first date. He was a couple years older than you, worked at a banking firm, lived in the upper east luxury apartments, studied abroad, et cetera. He learned that you have two jobs and dropped out of school because it was too expensive and honestly…you thought you lost him then. You thought he was unimpressed and no longer interested judging by the look of disappointment in his face but then he asks you what your ideal type is?

“Hm, I don’t know,” You started awkwardly, feeling his gaze shift toward you and looked you in the eye waiting, “Well I would want someone honest… and loyal bu—“

You stopped yourself feeling embarrassment edge on, it was ironic of you to say that was your type when clearly the past men you’ve been with have been anything but. A light scoff left your lips as you laughed a little, “I don’t know.”

“That’s it? Shouldn’t that be expected?” Jungkook asked. He was very loyal to his partners in the past but those relationships have long since been over and hold no meaning to him. He didn’t even think he wanted to date—considering how bored he was when the Jimin set him on—but here he was having the time of life trying to get to know you.

“Alright, well what about you? Maybe I need an example answer,” You joked, trying to shift the attention off you but Jungkook didn’t hesitate.

“I want someone I can relax around?” Jungkook was honest, “Someone I want to introduce to people close to me and someone that makes me think about them all day.”

“How do you decide who that person is?” You asked, moving your hair off your shoulder as you ate.

Jungkook smiled, “I don’t know. I just feel it.”

You talked about random things here and there. He explained what exactly he did at the banking firm and you told him your aspirations to be a hair stylist when you were younger. He asked why you never pursued it and you told him financial issues which made the conversation slightly awkward but it never ended.

By the time you finished and Jungkook footed the rather expensive bill, you rode down the elevator peacefully and walked out the building. Once the valet brought the car back around, you were less nervous to be riding in it than earlier and sat comfortably.

“I hope you don’t mind but I got you something,” Jungkook said once he was seated, “I wanted to wait till after dinner and then I forgot it.”

He reached under his seat where he had placed a small box earlier. You sat beside him watching him feel around for it, “Oh you didn’t have to—“

“I wanted to,” Jungkook said, placing a small box on your lap as he drove onto the street, “Think of it as a thank you for coming out with me tonight.”

“It’s nice but… isn’t it too much?” You swallowed dryly, looking at the simple Cartier bracelet, scared to even touch it, “I don't know what to say, thank you?”

“Don’t think about it, I just… I liked it and I wanted to gift you something,” Jungkook said honestly. He liked giving gifts and yesterday he was shopping for a new watch with Jin and he ended up finding the bracelet instead. For some reason he thought of you and before he could stop himself he bought it. It was one of the simple ones, not that expensive at all so he hopes you don’t think he’s stingy with money or anything. He’ll get you something better the next time you see each other. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Do you need help getting it on?”

You nodded shyly, unsure if you should take the gift but would it be rude to turn it down? What did he expect you to do after? You don’t mean to compare but Taehyung would never give you something like this. The most he spent on you is when he helped you get a new flatscreen but even then he only paid for half of it. When the car stopped at a red light, he quickly shifted in his seat to reach you better. With a hand around your wrist he pulled you forward as he helped you with the clasp. He was quite particular with how it looked on you and made sure the pearl motif sat at the center of your wrist.

It didn’t go unnoticed how he held your hand now as the light turned green. You didn’t pull back and let his thumb graze over your soft knuckles, “Pretty.”

Confusion rendered you silent on the ride back. It’s not that you were ungrateful but you were skeptical. You’ve never met let alone gone out with a man like him and you had no idea what to make of this gift. Was he seriously giving it to you or did you have to do something to earn it? Was he interested in you or just bored? Would a man like him just give someone a thousand dollar bracelet for no reason?

“You can just park right here,” You mumbled quietly as you pointed to a spot in front of your building. He opened your door for you and looked up at the building. Earlier he missed how the street lamp flickered giving everything a ghostly shadow. You let him walk you up feeling slightly embarrassed by the appearance of the staircase and hall but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Thanks for everything, seriously,” You said as you stood at your front door. At some point his hand had found its way to yours again and was softly running his thumb against your knuckles, “Are you sure about the gift?”

“I don’t accept gifts back,” Jungkook laughed softly, “Besides, it looks better on you than it would me. I’m showing my gratitude for having you out tonight. I enjoy your company.”

“Good, I like talking to you too,” you smiled warmly and he couldn’t help but mirror it.

“So when can we go out again? What’s your schedule like this week?” Jungkook asked hopefully.

“So you’ll visit me or take me out?” You asked playfully, more forward than earlier and his smile grew.

“Both, perhaps?” He asked.

Now, you don’t usually do anything on the first date. There was a big ‘If’ about the possibly of going out with the person again but Jungkook has been better than you could’ve imagined. It doesn’t make sense why he’s single and interested in you of all people.

Before you could think of what to do, he was moving closer. His touch was soft but there was no denying the way his hand wandered up to your waist, pulling you into him gently. You wrapped an arm around his neck before you could overthink it and leaned onto your tiptoes. Jungkook smiled, his other hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up. His lips brushed against yours teasingly, taking a moment before pressing them together in a first kiss.

You both were nervous at first but it was like something inside you came to life and you kissed him with more intent. Jungkook welcomed it, smiling a little into the kiss as he pulled back to catch his breath.

“I should go inside,” You giggled softly, turning away feeling flustered.

A small sigh left his lips, holding you close to him, “I’ll call you.”

It took less than a week for Jungkook to reveal to his close friends who the mysterious person he’s been seeing was. He was not trying to keep you a secret at all but there was only so much he wanted to say to them all and it was the basics. You were a just nice girl he’s met and went on a date with, but even that was enough for all the interrogations to arise.

“So how far did you guys go?” Hoseok and his hyper sexual mind felt the need to ask, “Or were you a true gentleman and settled for a hug?”

“We kissed,” Jungkook said, licking his lips at the memory, dealing his own cards for their next round of poker, “I’m taking it slow as of now.”

“Why’s that? The gala is not too far, shouldn’t you be focused on who is attending with you?” Namjoon asked, ashing his cigarette in the tray to the left of him. Jungkook ignored half of what his friend said as he readied to play.

“Y/n seems very different from me and I just don’t want to scare her off just yet,” Jungkook said honestly, thinking back to your reaction when he gave you the bracelet. He, of course, never assumed you came from much money especially considering he knew where you worked and lived but it wasn’t a problem to him. He was more worried if you’d manage in his life with the people he’s close to. It’s something he often wonders when the possibility of a relationship comes to mind but usually this is weeks into dating. The two of you have barely gone on one date and for some reason he’s already envisioning the future and what it could look like.

“Holy shit, that’s like a thousand bucks,” Yeaun looked over the bracelet, “And he just gave it to you? Where can I find a guy like that?”

“I guess,” You said, shifting your eyes to Yoongi as if he had the answers. The two of you stood behind the bar while Yeaun sat at the counter. It was early in the evening and you’ve been since 2:00pm and ready for your shift to end. Your friend’s been here ‘studying’ for over an hour but she’s been too distracted listening to your date stories. The bar was empty aside from a couple stragglers who got off work early but nothing crazy and it put you at ease.

“Does he know about Taehyung?” Yoongi asked curiously.

“No, it was a first date. I didn't think I had to dish out all my problems so soon and scare him off,” You joked as you looked down at the bracelet, “Besides, who knows how long this will last.”

“Have you talked since then?” Yeaun asked, leaning against the counter with interest.

“A little, yeah. He works at a bank so he’s got long hours at the office so I don’t really expect him to reach out to me much,” You told them honestly, “And who knows, it might’ve just been a one time thing.”

You shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal but part of you wondered if he’d reach out for another date or not. He said he would but who knows. People make promises all the time.

“Ugh, but he sounds like a dream—a dream with money,” Yeaun pretended to swoon as she gathered her things and stuffed them into her book bag, “Alright, I’ve gotta go home and study, keep me updated though. Bye guys.”

You waved her off and turned to Yoongi as he polished some glasses. He gave you a small sigh, “I like the guy, he always tips well.”

As your shift came to an end and you left Yoongi to deal with the night people, you got on the bus to take your usual route home.

jungkook: will you be working tonight?

you: I just got off actually

jungkook: I wanted to see you :(

You read the message at least three times unable to think of a response.

jungkook: have you eaten? shall we get dinner?

Just as you hurried to type, your phone began to ring and a smile came to his face, “You really are impatient, giving me no time to answer.”

Jungkook smiled as he drove over the familiar bridge that closed the gap between you, “Sorry, I’m not used to waiting. What are you doing then?”

“I’m on the bus, a couple stops away from home,” You told him looking at the passing buildings and the way the sun had fully set now, “What time do you want to meet for dinner?”

“Now?” Jungkook asked, “I’m not too far from your place, I’ll wait—or better yet what’s the next stop and I’ll meet you.”

Jungkook’s Porsche looked strange parking at The bus stop waiting for you and you felt slightly embarrassed by your appearance. Compared to last time you were nowhere near as out together and it was clearly evident you’ve just gotten off work. Jungkook was in his office attire but he still managed to look good.

“If you had given me a little more time I would’ve gotten dressed up for you,” You said light heartedly as he greeted you with a hug and kiss on your cheek.

“But I like seeing you like this too, reminds me of that black skirt you wore the first night I met you,” Jungkook said, taking your hand in his, “So where’s the restaurant you were talking about?”

Something has begun to really sprout between the two of you. Part of it still feels superficial to an extent but that’s how it’s supposed to feel. You’re not supposed to jump into anything so fast…

Yes, you’ve been meeting up a lot more regularly but you still keep each other at a distance. When you meet it’s usually out and tonight Jungkook wanted to be somewhere comfortable with you. He understood you got off work at the bar late and the last thing you wanted to do was go out so he opted for another way he could see you.

“Can I come over instead?” He asked as he sat at the bar one night. It was late, Yoongi had shut the music off and the lights turned on giving everyone a hint that it was closing time. Jungkook had arrived a couple hours before midnight to keep you company. Now that you’re closing he knows there’s a chance the night would come to an end soon and it’s the last thing he wanted. He had a stressful day at work that involved a meeting with the CFO—his father, about some reports. It spiraled into a conversation about the gala and who he thinks Jungkook should go with.

He had wanted to tell his father then that he wasn’t interested in being set up on a date because he had you but he struggled saying it. He doesn’t know where the two of you stand but he wants to figure it out. Jungkook watched you wipe the counters as Yoongi counted registers and he even helped wipe down a few chairs for you as he waited for a response. If the people at the office or his friends saw him cleaning up after strangers they’d laugh in surprise. He wasn’t the type to get his hands dirty and that’s exactly what he’s doing just to be with you.

Usually you always changed the subject when he asked, or hinted at him to go somewhere else instead but it was so late nothing would be open. Taehyung would be asleep if he was home but that was very unlikely. It was the weekend and he was most likely with his friends getting drunk somewhere and looking for an after party. There’s a chance he wouldn’t come home at all so what excuse did you have to turn Jungkook down?

In the end, you gave in and once the bar was closed, Jungkook drove straight to your apartment. He climbed up the familiar stairs, walked down the familiar aisle and stood behind you as you unlocked the door, warning him about a possible mess. Now, you weren’t cruel. Jungkook wasn’t walking in completely blindsided by the idea that you had a roommate but you weren’t totally up front with him. He knew your roommate was a guy but he wasn’t so sure about the relationship between you two.

Taehyung was half-asleep on the couch and Jungkook looked at him with furrowed brows as he followed into your room. You sighed, “Sorry, my roommate’s here.”

“It’s fine,” Jungkook said with a shrug as he began to unbutton the cuff of his shirt so he could roll the sleeves up, “How do you know him again?”

He wanted to ask more but he had to be patient.

“Do you want me to be honest?” You asked nervously but he nodded his head and waited.

“He’s my ex boyfriend. There’s still over six months on our lease but we’ve been broken up for… I think as long as I’ve known you now. We’re stuck living together until the lease is up,” You confessed in a single breath, “He sleeps on the couch now.”

“Your ex boyfriend?” Jungkook looked at the closed door, imagining the man who slept on the other side of it and his chest tightened. Why didn’t he just move out or why didn’t you? Was it a money issue, no one to let you crash out their place?

“Yeah but don’t worry, we don’t talk at all,” You tried to reassure him but you could tell he was too busy in his head, “What are you thinking?”

“Is this you?” He asked, holding up a picture frame in hands and staring at who appeared to be you but years younger. A small smile played on his lips that made you feel flustered as you took the frame from him, “Yes, don’t look at it. I was in a phase.”

“I can tell,” he joked playfully, looking around for something new to take his attention. Admittedly your place was small and it seemed like you had everything that expressed you shoved into your small bedroom. He understood you lived with someone else but is that what it’s like? What in this room belonged to Taehyung? You once shared it so there had to be something and that didn’t sit right with him. He had no need to get jealous but it made his throat dry to think about.

“What? You didn’t have something you were obsessed with growing up?” You asked, sitting against your row of pillows as he took a seat on your armchair. There was a vase of orchids on your vanity and books surrounding him as he stayed back.

“I was hyper fixated on water polo as a kid,” He confessed randomly, “But then there was an accident with my horse and I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Wait, that’s kind of sad,” You sat straighter, “But water polo?”

“Yeah, I switched to rowing and tennis when I was in college,” Jungkook said, and you looked at him curiously. Even in his business attire you can tell he had a lean, muscular body and you couldn’t help but stare. With an awkward clear of your throat you looked away, “Would you like a drink?”

“I can’t, I have to make it home tonight,” Jungkook said with a sigh as he stared out the window to his side. It was late and he wanted to spend more alone time with you but he probably couldn’t.

“Already?” You asked patting the left side of your bed as if calling for him. He looked between you and the spot, heart beating fast and he thought about it.

“Oh, if you insist,” He watched the way you rolled your eyes playfully, and laid back in your bed a little more, “You know, for some reason I’m comfortable around you even though we still don’t know each other that well. I think you did something to me.”

“Like?” You asked with a hint of amusement.

“You’re easy to talk to and I’m not used to that,” Jungkook said, noticing the distance between you getting smaller, shoulders nearly brushing against each other, legs angled in and your hand right in his reach. He took it shyly, looking over the bracelet he gave you last time.

Jungkook was being honest now. He doesn’t understand how or why but once he met you, he felt good.

“You like me that much?” You smiled teasingly and he couldn’t help but smile too. In the beginning he always took you to be indifferent. You didn’t pay more attention to him than you needed to and clearly you had things going on in your life that stressed you out.

When you began talking to him he finally got a hint of interest in your part but he found you hard to read—he still does. You smile more often now and joke around, go out with him, but want more. If you’re closed off because of the relationship with the guy who slept outside the bedroom then he really can’t stand him.

“I do,” Jungkook smiled harder, leaning into you, “And I’ve been thinking about kissing you again.”

Alone in your bedroom with a guy who’s nice and handsome and charming and… overall dreamy made things hard to resist. You kissed him shyly, lips pressed against his and he felt himself sink into your bed even further. His hands found the belt loops of your jeans and he hooked a finger using it to pull on top of him. You both were still dressed in your work clothes but neither of you seemed to care.

He hugged your hips, soft lips hungry for more of your touch and his mind went blank. Your hands cupped his face and you didn’t shy away from his wandering hands that snuck under your plain black tee and felt along your spine. With your body pressed to his, you rolled onto your back with him following after you, never wanting to break apart.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, kissing heavily and hands roaming but never straying too far. He didn’t push you for more even when you felt the way you affected him. Instead he kept the pace mutual, made you feel good and cared for.

By the time your lips were too swollen and sore, you had to pull back. His breathing was heavy and his hair was a mess of tousled black hair. He looked more of a wreck than you did and you couldn’t help but laugh softly trying to fix the collar of his white button up.

“I’ve got a meeting in a few hours,” Jungkook mumbled against your skin as he checked the time on his watch. It was way past midnight and he had to be ready by 7:00am. The drive home was nearly a half hour and he hadn’t prepared himself that well. As much as he wants to stay in your bed he knew he had to go.

You whined softly, hugging him closer before easing off. You let him stand up and he tucked the part of his shirt that had slipped out and attempted to fix his hair. There was an obvious bulge in his slacks that he tried to ignore even when you looked so inviting. It would be so easy for him to fall back into bed and keep going but he had to be responsible. Sadly, responsibility came in the form of having self control and remembering he’s got work tomorrow.

“I’ll walk you out,” You said with a small sigh. It was late and you had to be up early for the morning shift so it was right to end things. You needed to get out of your jeans and into bed. The two of you left your room quietly. His hand was on your waist, following you blindly out with his shoes in his hands and a calm smile.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” Jungkook whispered his promise as you unlocked the front door. He stood in the brightly lit hallway now. The goodbye was sweet and he found himself lingering behind when you shut the door. He couldn’t make out the full conversation but your ex didn’t seem to have been sleeping at all.

“Who was that?” Taehyung asked, sounding tired or irritated. He was laying down but with the light from the hall shining in you can make out the shape of his open eyes.

“A friend,” You said blandly.

“Can you do me a favor and keep your friends out of here?” Taehyung asked bitterly, “It’s my apartment too. I’ve already given you the room, the least you can do is respect me enough to not bring guys over on my bed.”

He stood alone in his office, trying to take a break from the busy day he’s had. Back to back meetings, lunch with his father, endless paperwork, hearing Hoseok scold him about not going further with you, etc., he needed a break. His phone sat on his desk and it was taking everything inside him not to call you. He’s tried distracting himself with the view outside his windows but it wasn’t working.

“I’m just saying, what’s taking you so long? If you actually liked this girl wouldn’t you have gone for it?” Hoseok asked with a shrug of his shoulders, “She’s got you whipped and you haven’t even done anything, that’s crazy.”

“It’s not even like that, Y/n’s just…” Jungkook looked nervous like when he had a school crush and would get teased about it, “I wanted to—she lives with her ex.”

“Red flag,” Jimin chimed in from his corner of Jungkook’s office, “Why?”

“Because she still lives with her ex, obviously. There’s still something there or else she would’ve moved out by now don’t you think?” Jimin explained making Jungkook run his fingers through his hair anxiously.

“Maybe money’s tight. Y/n said their lease still has another six months,” Jungkook bit his lip.

“Help her pay to end it then, duh,” Hoseok said with a shrug, knowing money wasn’t a problem for him or his friends, “Free her from the shackles of past relationships.”

This time Jungkook didn’t say anything because he was too busy thinking about it. He could help you pay it off, maybe even find you a new place but would you want him to? You always seem so tired after working both jobs and although he hasn’t made it official, he doesn’t like seeing the person he’s dating stressed all the time. He could easily take the weight off your shoulders if you let him.

“Isn’t Jungkook’s problem that he hates dating women after his money? Why are you volunteering him to pay for some random girl’s rent?” Hoseok asked with a scoff, “The girl I set you up with would never, FYI.”

He rolled his eyes, sinking back into his chair, “I don’t care about that girl. I care about Y/n.”

“So make it official, offer her help, and take her to the gala. Boom!” Jimin clapped like he solved world hunger.

He was going to, he planned to at least, he was just thinking of how to do it. It should be something simple but for some reason he’s nervous to do it. Everyone has already been nagging him about his personal life and as much as he’d like to keep you to himself, part of him also wants to show you off. You’re not what he expected

When he was alone in his office, he spent his time thinking about what you could be doing right now and how badly he wanted to see you. All you’ve done is make out and he wants to do more but he’s also happy about the pace you’re taking things. It seems right. He’s not jumping to get into your pants and you’re not running to his pockets. He respects you and finds you too stunning to let go even if you lead different lives.

After work, he headed right to where he’d find you and you were talking with some college guys who ordered shots at the bar. They were in some university jackets and seemed perfectly content taking up your time.

“Are those for me?” Yoongi asked, stepping out from the walk-in fridge of alcohol. He pointed at what Jungkook was holding and it seemed to catch your attention too, finally making you look over at him. Your eyes softened, standing up as he got to the bar.

He held a large bouquet of orchids, various types of the flower, some pink, some white, a little bit of both, a hint of yellow. They looked pretty and he held them out to you as he responded to Yoongi, “Sorry, hyung. Maybe next time.”

“I didn’t know you were stopping in tonight,” You said, taking the flowers graciously. Now that you’re sort of seeing each other he hasn’t been stopping regularly. Usually he sees you in your free time and occasionally if he goes to the bar but it’s usually at the end when not many people are left and you’re about to close.

“I meant to call but I forgot, forgive me?” He asked with a teasing smile, eyes glazed over as he watched you, “I just wanted to ask you something.”

You didn’t hesitate to step out with him, alone in front of your job, clutching the bouquet in your hands.

“So, I’ve been kind of pushing it off because I’m not sure what you’ll think, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and I can’t wait much longer to ask,” Jungkook started off with a nervous scoff, “And now that we’re out here and I’ve distracted you from work, it’s probably shitty timing but—“

“Jungkook,” You said, looking up at him, “What do you want to ask me?”

“Will you go out with me? I mean… I know we’ve gone on a few dates here and there but I don’t think to keep going with this without asking you for a relationship. I want to get to know you more and more and I don’t want to think about you possibly misreading my intentions and I just… really want to be your boyfriend,” Jungkook finished.

A smile spread on your lips as you leaned into him, one hand around his neck while the other held the bouquet from falling. His hands fell effortlessly on your waist, pulling you closer, feeling you nod your head against him, “Is this a yes?”

“Yes,” You kissed his cheek, “Orchids are my favorite also.”

“Really?” He asked feigning surprise, “I guess I was lucky picking them out.”

“Are you staying for a drink?” You asked pulling back despite his hold.

“I don’t think so, I’ve got another crazy day tomorrow and I’ve got some errands to run. Do you close tonight?” Jungkook asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “You work too much?”

“I work too much?” You asked with a laugh, “You’re the one with back to back meetings.”

It was oddly endearing seeing the way he pouted despite his tough exterior. He wore a black suit and his hair was combed back, driving his usual Porsche but then pouting at you rather cutely and delivering you your favorite flowers.

“You’re right, I’ll take a few days off and spend all my time with you,” Jungkook said playfully, “If you think I’m clingy now just you wait.”

“Okay, okay,” You pushed against his chest lightly, “I have to get back inside before Yoongi kills me. Thank you for the flowers.”

“Mhm,” Jungkook bit his lip, keeping you close to him still as he refused to let go of your hand, “Can I get a kiss before you go?”

You sighed, pretending to find it bothersome but let him pull you back. You kissed him goodbye with a promise to call him when you get home and went inside as he drove off.

The flowers looked pretty in the clear cylinder vase you fit them into once you got home that night. You ignored it when Taehyung slammed the door and set the flowers on your vanity, smiling a little to yourself as you got ready for bed.

It took a week for him to officially ask you to be his date for the event of the year. He wanted to appreciate the tranquility he had with you at least a little before he brought you to everyone close to him. He didn’t want your opinion about him changing but he also wanted to show you off finally. In the end, he asked you over dinner and you had no reason to turn him down.

You didn’t fully understand what he was inviting you to and the gift he left for you one day only left you more confused.

“Just try it on, baby,” Jungkook urged you on as he busied himself in your bedroom while you stared at the box on your bed, “I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything better at the last minute but you’ll look beautiful either way.”

He already thought you looked pretty with how you styled your hair and makeup, you just needed a pretty bustier gown with orchids to match. It was a vintage Dolce & Gabbana dress that accentuates your figure nicely. Your neck looked plane but he fixed that with a few gold pieces and rushed you out the room. Taehyung wasn’t home—not that either of you cared if he was—but if you could avoid him the better. You didn’t need him looking at you some type of way and you’re sure Jungkook could go without it too.

“I could’ve found something to wear, you didn’t have to,” You tried to say but it was clear he wasn’t listening.

“I wanted to,” Jungkook fixed the cuffs of his suit, checking the time on his watch. “We’ll be late if we don’t get going now.”

When he first told you about the charity gala, you weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a few auctions, some guest speakers or small press but this was so much more than that. Hundreds of people filed into the large venue, chandeliers held high and disco balls spinning. Everyone wore suits and beautiful dresses who wore them more confidently than you did yours. There were performance acts happening all around you and a few people you’ve seen on television in attendance. Without meaning to, you leaned against Jungkook as he navigated through the seating and found your table.

“Look who’s finally decided to let us meet his girlfriend,” Someone said from the table as Jungkook searched around for his place card. Usually, he sat with his parents and his brother and his family but he started with his friends first. The others were busy speaking on stage and right now the guys seemed less intimidating.

“Y/n, this is Jimin, you’ll learn he never thinks before he speaks,” Jungkook joked, making you want to smile but unsure if you should.

“You clean up nicely for a waitress,” Someone else said and Jungkook looked up immediately. Hoseok was obviously joking—perhaps to impress the girl he’s been seeing and the one he set Jungkook up with for a date [who was surprisingly on Jin’s arm now]. One of the girls snickered, making your brows furrow.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Namjoon told him off, directing Jungkook to sit down, noticing how ready he was to speak up.

“You’re prettier than he said,” Namjoon told you with a polite smile. Jungkook’s hand rested on the back of your chair as he looked around for his parents before asking you, “Just ignore some of the stuff they say. I’ll handle it.”

“I’m not worried,” You admitted, sitting straighter as you looked at your name plaque on the dining set in front of you. He smiled down at you, “You are prettier than I first said.”

“So what’s it like busting tables, Y/n?” Some woman asked you and Jungkook turned, clearly annoyed. He couldn’t understand why Hoseok would bring the girl he went on a date with to the gala as Jin’s date instead. It didn’t make sense and once again his dear friend was bringing questionable guests.

“About as pleasant as your company,” You said with a smile, “Perhaps a bit more, I’d assume? I don’t know, I'm not a waitress.”

You were a bartender and a cashier, if this random woman is going to insult you could she at least be accurate? Either way, there’s nothing wrong with being in the service industry but judging by everyone around the table, they all look down it. You looked at Jungkook, in his designer suit, wearing the designer dress he bought you and feeling very obviously out of place.

“I’m gonna go to the washroom,” You whispered to him and concern flickered in his eyes. Your hand barely grazed his shoulder as you stood up and he placed his hand over it keeping you from leaving just yet.

“Everything okay?” He asked, not caring for anyone else at the table but you at the moment. You nodded with a gentle smile, “Yes, I’ll be right back.”

When you left the table it seemed like everyone was able to catch a proper breath, all looking at Jungkook as if he had something to say. He didn’t let you get too far out of his sight before he stood up too.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asked with an amused expression, “I want Y/n back, she’s cute.”

“I’m gonna find us better company,” Jungkook said as he looked at the women and Hoseok, “Sober company.”

“Come on man, we’re just messing around,” he said turning to Jin hoping for some help but Jin chose to stay out of it, “She’s great, honestly. Not what I expected.”

“Hobi,” one of the girls complained but Jungkook was taking his drink and leaving.

You tried to fix your appearance in the mirror but there wasn’t anything specific you could point to. There was just something that felt wrong and maybe it was being here at all. Maybe you’re moving too fast? You’ve already agreed to go out with him and you have strong feelings for him but if those are his friends… and these are the parties he attends… maybe you’re not cut out for it.

The women were flooded in designer and a sort of elegance you’re sure you didn’t possess and the others seemed just as luxurious. You work two jobs to keep a shitty roof over your head while you’re attending a ball in a dress worth more than what you make in a month. You might act like you’re not nervous but you’re anxious. It feels like you’re pretending to be comfortable. Do you deserve this sort of treatment from him? All he’s done since you met him is keep you company, shower you in gifts, listen you every word you said, and… brought you around those close to him but were you right for him?

He seemed too good for you.

“I was beginning to think you ran out on me,” Jungkook said with a chuckle as he watched you jump in surprise. He stood near the entrance to the washrooms and waited for you to come out for what felt like forever.

“You really are impatient,” You teased as he pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips, “Is everyone still at the table?”

“Probably,” Jungkook said, taking your hand in his and walking through the crowds, “But I’m sick of them, let’s do our own thing for now.”

Jungkook was as attentive as ever. He introduced you to anyone who came up to him and he looked genuinely happy to have you there by his side. You haven’t been seeing each other for long at all, but it feels right. At one point you reunited with his friends, except Jimin was off somewhere with Jin and the two girls. The rest welcomed you just fine and asked you questions about yourself. Sometimes Jungkook would say something about you that you had no idea he knew. Hoseok found it adorable how he spoke for you with a sense of pride or excitement. It was obvious to anyone who paid attention that Jungkook felt strongly for you and you for him. Although hesitant to let you in, you seemed to charm your way with his friends and it made him happy to see how well you fit in.

“Leaving already?” Namjoon asked when Jungkook made his rounds of farewell to everyone he knew.

“Yeah, we’re… tired,” Jungkook said but the smile on his face said otherwise, “And it’s late.”

“Hm,” Namjoon seemed amused as he looked down at the arm Jungkook had around your waist and how it ran along your hip, holding you close. The two of you looked like proper lovers on their honeymoon and he couldn’t help but laugh, knowing neither of you were close to tired—just ready to leave.

He smirked, “Have fun.”

“What did that mean?” You asked as Jungkook led you out but he just shrugged. Valet brought his car and you got in with him.

“Don’t know,” Jungkook said leaning over the middle consoled to kiss you, “Will you spend the night at my place?”

“I don’t have clothes,” You said, smiling at the way he seemed to deject, worrying at his bottom lip.

“I mean… we won’t really need tha—“

“Jungkook!” You hit his arm playfully, making him laugh. He drove to his place with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. He lived in a penthouse in the sky, at one of the most expensive apartments in the whole city. The entire ride up the elevator was filled with his rough hands holding you in his arms, telling you how beautiful you looked tonight.

“I can’t take too much credit,” You teased, arms around his neck as you went to the top floors, “You’re the one who picked out the dress.”

“It’s not about the dress,” Jungkook whispered, cupping your face in his hands, “It’s about the person wearing it.”

“And what about when I’m not wearing it?” You asked, stepping out of the elevator once it got to his floor. You walked ahead of him and he couldn’t help but look after you. Your hips swayed with each step, walking so effortlessly in a dress that accentuated your shape. It had his attention all night and he knew tonight was the night he’d have you. You were hard to resist but he was patient, he waited for the right timing to make sure what he felt was right and it was. He was so into you it was all he could think about.

“Y/n,” Jungkook called for you before you could skip too far from him. The two of you stood in the foyer now and he was taking your hand in his to keep you from wandering too far inside. His place was huge, the entrance alone had a level of class you didn’t expect. It was a two level penthouse with a grand staircase and pool on the balcony. Your heels created an echo that felt never endless and in the middle of the foyer was a rounded table with a small stack of mail and a large vase of orchids.

Now you feel bad always dragging him to your small bedroom in an apartment you shared with an ex boyfriend. It was something Jungkook never seemed bothered by—even when Taehyung would make a fuss about something—and that made you feel even more embarrassed.

You were too distracted to notice when he closed the space between you, hands on your waist as he pulled you against him.

“You’ve been handsy all night, y’know,” You teased him with a smile, turning in his arms to face him. He let his forehead lean against yours, and closed the space between your lips until you were kissing.

There was a hint of a smile into the kiss as he deepened it by dipping his head low, mouths moving in sync. Even with your heels, you couldn’t quite reach him and tried to lean upward.

Jungkook’s hands traced down your waist, falling to your hips and without pulling away, pulled you onto the table, sliding his mail to the floor. A light squeal left your lips, holding him tighter, “Jungkook.”

“I can’t help it,” He began to trail soft kisses down your neck, nibbling here and there to get a reaction out of you, “I’ve been good all the time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a cute and amused laugh that made him smile. One of the straps of your dress slipped down your shoulders and he hooked a finger into the thin fabric and pushed it back into spot. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to help you down from the table, not yet letting you go but walked toward the staircase “And I’ve got you all alone now. Nobody asking you for another round of drinks, or your… roommate, just you and I. I don’t think I can hold back any longer.”

With that being said, he guided you up the stairs taking you down a hallway toward the main bedroom. It was modern and dark with a wall of windows that overlooked the city lights. His bed was at the center with black sheets that he set you down and begins kissing you again.

Your hands ran down the front of his suit, pushed the jacket off and untucked it from his slacks. Every time you see him he’s dressed so nicely but you wanted to see what it looked like underneath. One time it had been late and last minute when he saw you and was dressed in a casual hoodie and sweats. You made out on your bed but never got far enough to take your clothes off. You know he’s muscular and lean but you needed to see it all.

Although your pace of undressing him was quick to your knowing, it wasn’t enough for him. He yanked at the buttons, pulling it off and your jaw nearly dropped.

"Tattoos?" You questioned with surprise, as he sat back on his haunches playing with the buckle of his belt. He unclipped the back of his silver watch, throwing it on the floor and pulled his belt fully out of the loops.

“Surprising?” He responded looking down at. Your dress was ruffled up around your waist and your legs looked smooth. You sat back on your hands to meet him halfway for another kiss and while his mouth was concentrated on yours and your tongues danced against each other, he slipped his hands down your back. Your dress had a lower back cut, barely held together by a ribbon that had been tempting him all night. How easy it would have been to undo it and kiss along your spine.

A soft gasp slipped past your lips and swallowed by his as he pushed the straps off your shoulder and let it pool around your breasts. He slipped it further down exposing more of yourself to him and he kissed down your neck. You were slowly fall back into his pillows with his mouth against your collarbone, guiding you to your back so he could take the dress off you.

He left wet kiss down your chest, hands tracing along your ribcage as you arched into him and your breasts fell and rose with each heavy breath you took. mouth left wet kisses down to your collarbone and between your breasts. You let out a sigh feeling his gentle touch and he cupped your soft mound, squeezing lightly before he brought his lips to your hardening bud.

“Is this good?” Jungkook asked almost shyly, tongue sneaking a touch on your nipple as his thumb swiped over it feeling it begin to stiffen. You could barely form words to respond when he repeated the actions a couple times.

"Jungko—ngh," you whined wriggling around a little for more. He looked up at you through a mess of hair and his teasing tongue flicked your nipple as his other hand groped the flesh of your left breast.

You touched along his back wanting to feel more of him pushing your breasts in his face and he drooled all over your boobs, sucking and licking your skin while you arched into him.

Once his tongue had grown sore, Jungkook moved along down your stomach pulling on it in hopes that he could get it off. With a small huff in annoyance, he sat back, looking down at your half naked body and tried to work out a way to take it off you. He raised your legs against his shoulders, sliding the flimsy fabric off and throwing it to the floor next to his shirt.

It didn’t go ignored the fact that you had been completely bare underneath, your pubic area exposed to him as you’ve gone all night with no panties and it was only now he realized.

“You had nothing under this entire time?” Jungkook asked, finally pulling his own pants down, not bothering to wait to get his briefs off and did them both at the same time. He barely gave you time to appreciate the veins leading down his V-line toward his hardened cock before he was leaning down to kiss you again, “If I would’ve known we would’ve never left your apartment.”

“Good thing I didn’t tell you then,” You said between gasps when he licked the shell of your ear, pressing his naked body against yours.

Tonight had been something he’s known for months and a yearly event that he needed to attend. If he had known and seriously kept you in bed you’re sure he would’ve heard an earful. You only chose to go bare so you wouldn’t get a panty line on the dress.

He must’ve liked your chest because he went back to your breasts hungrily latching onto a nipple again, choosing not to respond anymore as he got lost in your warmth.

Like earlier when he got the dress off, he hitched your right leg up until it was bent close to your stomach, exposing more of your wet pussy to his greedy eyes. Silky strings of arousal glazed over your folds making him run his tongue along his bottom lip. Jungkook was focused on your wet cunt, dragging a finger along the center where your juices puddled at your entrance. It was a wet, creamy sort of slick that coated his fingers and your clit.

You released a moan at stimulation, jaw going slack when Jungkook gripped your hips with his free hand and pressed you firmly to the bed. Making sure you wouldn’t squirm away, he dropped to his stomach, face between your lips as he went for a taste.

His lips were soft against your folds, eyes locked onto the sight of your puffy lips and let his tongue lick up the puddle of arousal. He practically sucked on it for a taste and left open mouth kisses on your cunt. You gripped the bed sheets tightly, legs threatening to shut but whenever you tried to squirm his head followed your movements.

Jungkook could barely breathe but it felt unnecessary as he nipped at your labia, sucking it into his mouth and letting your clit rut against the tip of his rounded nose. In all honesty, there was only one thing on his mind right now. He wanted to please you and make you feel good. He wanted to make you forget about any other guy and make you think of him and only him. His mouth closed over the stiffened clit suddenly and he began to lick and suck, feeling the outline of your slit get his chin wet like a dog lapping at water with thirst.

You had to be the sweetest thing to ever grace his tongue and it was making him lose his mind—aimlessly rutting his stiff cock against the bed.

Your head had fully tipped back, no longer paying attention to the pleasure he brought between your legs and sunk into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling moaning. Jungkook watched you succumb to what he gave you and he snaked a hand along your body, feeling the way your stomach caved in with deep breaths and settled a grip on your tits. His fingers were wet and he used the liquid to coat your nipples, rubbing them between fingers and quite literally tongue fucking you with your hips humping his face.

You were in ecstasy with his mouth slobbering all over your cunt. You couldn’t remember the last time you let someone touch you—pleasure you. It surely wasn’t with the ex you lived with. You stopped letting him in long before you broke up and even then he didn’t make you feel the way Jungkook did.

"Oh—" you moaned softly, hands in his

dark hair keeping him in place. He didn't say anything only guided you through an orgasm, feeling the way your legs shook and your breath hitched. Your clit twitched in his mouth and he tried to soothe the feeling with tender lips, tongue lapping at your release as you came down from your high.

Your eyes opened, looking right at the red tip of his cock, aching with need and pointing straight at you. He leaked with precum just from what he had done to you and he needed more. You tried to sit up on shaky legs, meeting him halfway for a messy tongue kiss, licking your arousal off his lips and some spit mixed into it. It was nasty but it made him grown with lust, especially when your hand snaked around his mushroom tip.

Jungkook dropped his forehead against your shoulder, staring down at your naked bodies and focusing on the hand you had on him. Your thumb was rubbing against the slit, smearing clear arousal around his head. His brows knitted together, a confused expression as you tried leaning back, managing to pull him into bed. It didn’t take long for him to get the hint and get on his back.

“Baby,” Jungkook tried to warn as you shifted to sit between his legs, leaning down to his stiff member. He was so close already and wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to handle before he had a chance to be inside you. A dry gasp left his lips as you went in without warning.

You flattened your tongue on the underside of his length, teasing a long lick from his base to the tip. Spit pooled in your mouth that you let drool out of your mouth and cover his tip, eyes on him the whole time. His eyes felt heavy but he refused to let them shut, wanting to see the way you took his cock into your mouth seductively.

A deep, throaty men left his lips as you swallowed as much of him as you could; never pulling your eyes off him and his head nearly tipped back with pleasure. Holding the base of his cock with one hand, you begin to bob your head setting a good pace, with your other hand on his muscular thigh.

Your eyes lock on the obvious muscles flexing under your touch, his abdomen more prominent than before and you eyed his tattoos curiously. Whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth was jerked off by your free hand that would occasionally run a little lower to massage his scrotum.

You can tell he was close which left you with a sense of pride. Your nose pressed into his pubic bone, taking steady breaths as you flattened your tongue and relaxed your throat to fit whatever more you can. Jungkook panted feeling the throb of his cock as his tip hit the back of your throat.

You roughly swallow around him, suppressing a gag and resume to deep throat him.

"Fucking hell," he groaned tossing his head back in bliss, hand hiding his face as it scrunched together in pleasure. Moans were pouring out of his mouth, sounds muffled into his hand, "I'm so—close."

It hit him at once, hips nearly licking from how hard his muscles tightened with pleasure. His cock twitched warning a gag from you before he couldn’t take anymore. You didn’t pull away, swallowing what you could of his release.

Jungkook slowly comes down from his high, hand petting your hair. His eyes were hazy and his mouth dry. It felt like he couldn't move a muscle but he needed to feel your mouth on his. He could taste himself on you and with your aftertaste on his he wished to kiss more, pulling you onto his lap.

It was the best head he’s ever received yet his cock ached for more.

“Condom?” You asked, nipping at his ear lobe making his eyes roll. He didn’t bother to shift you off his lap as he blindly felt around his nightstand for protection.

He let you slide it onto his member, watching it bounce back up, too stiff to budge and held placed a hand at the base as you moved to straddle him.

The expression you made as you sank onto his length was utterly beautiful and you radiated a confidence in taking him that he hadn’t seen before. Every time he’d seen you has led up to this moment where you could finally be as intimate as you please and he wasn’t the only one jumping for the chance. He didn't push to move even if he really wanted to and instead let you adjust. He wanted this to be pleasurable to you too.

"Jungkook," you whined, hands flat on his chest making your tits perk up and he carefully shifted his hips, rolling them up to dig just a little deeper.

“That’s it baby,” he muttered under his breath, watching your hair fall forward as you tried to concentrate on his thrusts. You ground your hips against him and he watched your body shudder with pleasure. It was hypnotic the way you pulled him and he couldn’t help but lean upward, kissing one of your breasts as you rode his dick for the first time.

He groped at your ass, spreading the soft cheeks apart and rammed into you when you threw your head back with a whimper, "Feels good."

You threw your arms around him, suffocating him against your chest as he bounced you on his dick, moaning against your nipples and drooling. Jungkook's nail dug into your soft flesh as he lifted your hips up and down on his cock.

He felt stuck, unable to move his hips as much as he wanted to and with a low grunt, he rolled you onto your back, knees digging into the mattress as your legs wrapped around his waist, “Fuck, I can’t.”

You didn’t pay much attention to his words as Jungkook began to quite literally drop dick inside you, grinding his pelvis into you with each deep thrust and it felt nasty to be fucked this way.

A familiar ring of nerves clenching around his member as it sucked him into your folds. He wasn't going to last much longer either.

He hasn't slept with someone in months and it definitely didn't feel like this. He didn’t give it up to just anyone despite what reputation he might have, and it took him time to sleep with you. He had to feel intimate in other ways before he let himself feel the pleasure you brought him.

“Gonna cum for me?” He asked softly, kissing your jaw and hugging your waist as he dug your pussy out, feeling your nails claw at his back.

“Please,” you begged, snuggling into his neck and his chest tightened with want. He put more purpose into his thrusts, bringing you and himself so close to the edge that you would tip over any moment. You sounded too pretty begging for him to just ignore.

A wave of pleasure washed over you, skin rising with bumps as a shiver ran down your body. He held you tightly as you moaned in euphoria, coming undone once again. Jungkook couldn’t hold on much longer and your legs around him gave him no choice but to fuck the rest of length in you until he came into the condom.

You laid together for a moment, both shaking and softly petty each other as you came down. Jungkook’s fingers combed your hair back and you straightened your sore legs as you let him pull out.

You don’t remember much aside from the drowsiness and he cleaned you up better than you could’ve.

He lied back in bed, pulling the covers over your naked body and fell asleep in your arms.

Once the sun rose into the sky, sneaking into the bedroom through the blinds and waking you from a heavy sleep, you found yourself feeling sore. You attempted to stretch but Jungkook’s arm trapped you against him.

“What time is it?” You mumbled to yourself, looking down at your naked body feeling self conscious as you rolled onto your side to find your phone. It was somewhere out in the foyer with the rest of your things you’d forgotten.

The time on Jungkook’s alarm clock read ten minutes past the bus. You should’ve been on it and on your way to the cafe.

“Y/n,” Jungkook mumbled sleepily, sitting up a little to see what was holding your attention, “Back to sleep.”

“I’m going to be late to the cafe,” You said, attempting to get up but failing miserably once he pulled you back down.

“Who cares about that one, let’s sleep a little longer,” He said and although your heart raced, you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Don’t you have work today? We’ll both be late,” You tried to reason but your now clingy boyfriend wasn’t hearing any of it.

“I’m in line to be CFO, I can do whatever I want and today I’m choosing to spend as much time with you as possible,” Jungkook said arrogantly but it was so easy to look past when he kissed your palm affectionately.

“Not all of us are as lucky,” You sighed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as you tried getting out of bed. Instead you just ended up underneath him.

His smile was mischievous, “So I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?”

“We already barely have time to see each other,” Jungkook said with a small pout, “And you live so far with someone who doesn’t deserve to see you as often as he does…”

“Well, maybe you should come stay with me. I know you said Yeaun doesn’t have the space to let you move in with her and I really don’t want you stressing about rent or living with someone you don’t want to live with,” Jungkook told you, slowly rolling off you once he felt he had your attention, “So what do you say?”

“You live far,” You tried to say, sitting up and clutching the sheets to your front. You weren’t completely opposed to it but shocked nevertheless.

“That’s why I think you should quit at the cafe,” Jungkook said eagerly, “That way you could focus on just one job and have so much more free time. I’ll take you or get you a driver—a car?, whatever you need to get to the bar. I know you like working there but at least you wouldn’t be running back and forth between jobs. I live far but I’m asking you, will you move in with me?”

“I have to think about it,” you sighed, sinking further into bed and the thought of getting up to answer missed calls from your job made you want to hide under the covers. You really did not like working there. It was early hours, shitty pay, and rude people. At least at the bar it was nighttime and the people knew you. And it would be nice to no longer live with Taehyung…

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, pulling you into his arms knowing you were seriously considering it, “… And if you ever decide you don’t want to be at the bar either… you’ll be with me and have all the time in the world to do what you want.”

“You’re offering too much,” You said playfully, hugging him lovingly, “I’ll really start to think about it.”

“Please, I could give you whatever you want if you just let me,” Jungkook says.

In some strange, unexplainable way, he fell for someone so unlike him. It was effortless and comforting to the point that nothing would bother him about it and all he wanted was to be with you. He could ignore everything else, or solve anything just to be with you.

It’s like you’re what he’s been looking for and he’s what you need—someone trusting, reliable and loving.

Ever since he saw you buying orchids at the convenience store, he can’t help but think of them when he thinks of you. You remind him of one.

Beautiful, charming, graceful. It didn’t matter if you had different upbringings or experiences, all he knows is you’re fit for him and he’s fit for you. He’ll show you things you’ve never seen, treat you to luxuries and care while you teach him more about yourself. Let him really get to know you and what makes you smile.

To do that, you have to let him in.

“So no work?” Jungkook asked hopefully making you roll your eyes, trying not to smile.

“I guess not,” You sighed, feeling him begin to smile against you and hurried to stop him, “But I should still go home.”

“To pack?”

“No, to shower and get dressed,” You corrected him, laughing at how he whined, “Well talk about it more later, last night was…”

“A lot?”

“You can say that”

::.

haven’t posted in forever and I needed to drop something for yall 😭I hope you enjoy it when it’s out and pls bear with me lol. idk if it’s good I’ve been working on it for too long to tell There’s definitely errors and questions yall might have so pls feel free to send it in inbox!

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outlawinthisworld1117 · 4 months ago

Text

And they were roommates…

☆ pairing: Mingi x (fem)reader

☆ genre: Friends to Lovers. Fluff. A sprinkle of angst. Slow burn? I guess…

☆ summary: KQ was holding the raffle of a lifetime - the opportunity to live with Ateez for an entire year. As someone who isn't particularly a K-pop fan, you were intrigued by the opportunity to travel with free housing. You didn’t think that you would actually end up winning… nor that you’d end up getting close to a certain member.

☆ warnings: toxic bf (not Mingi), some cursing, nsfw? suggestive material, mentions of cheating (again, not Mingi), some poorly written angst, there could be more but I don’t think so??

☆ word count: 14.5k (I went a bit insane for my first fic. I could probably cut it down, but I’m not gonna :P)

☆ authors note: This is heavily based on a scenario I had in my notes app for months. Mingi is my Ult! and I’m a hopeless romantic, which was a huge inspiration for this story. This work is fiction and purely self-indulgent (really as all fanfics should be), it doesn’t reflect any of the members personally. Also, I know that Mingi isn’t afraid of heights and actually enjoys rollercoasters, but for the sake of my 20th Century Girl reference… I had to make him the ultimate scaredy cat. Also, Yn is supposed to be the nickname version of Y/N… Enjoy!

Eight pairs of eyes are locked onto you as you awkwardly smiled back at them, waving ever so slightly. Eight of the most stunning men you’ve ever encountered stood before you, and one of them had particularly captivated your attention. His intense gaze, defined nose, and grown-out bleached hair pulled you in, igniting a spark of something new within you. His stare burned into your very soul, making you break your gaze and scream internally, overwhelmed by self-consciousness, Jesus H. Christ… how did I end up here???

—Two Weeks Prior—

(translator mode on :3, Hinata is Japanese)

Hinata: -Yn, look at this-

You catch sight of the notification glowing on your phone, and curiously you click the link your friend sent you.

-Win a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live with ATEEZ for an ENTIRE YEAR!!! Simply sign up through email, and you could be our lucky winner! If you’re chosen, you’ll receive free housing, travel expenses covered, an incredible job working alongside ATEEZ, and the opportunity to become friends with the group!-

You scoff, wondering, What is this? It seems like a scam. Your phone pings once more, a new message from your friend lighting up the screen.

Hinata: -I thought it was fake at first, but look!!! The raffle is posted on the official Instagram!! *screenshotted post*-

You: -Hina…you are the K-pop fan, what are you telling me for?-

Hinata: -You have been nonstop talking about wanting to travel somewhere you have never been before. Why not take the chance? Just sign up for the raffle. What harm could it do?-

You: -I don’t know, but it’s not very likely I’ll win anyway.-

Hinata: -So? It’s not likely you’ll get struck by lightning either, but we both know that it is still possible. Just do it!-

You: -Fine. Though you have to promise me that you won’t be mad at me if I win. I know how much you love those guys.-

Hinata: -Trust me, I will not be mad. I applied and if I win I’m giving it to you. I love them, but I will not be able to function if I am around them. Ironically, my biggest fear is meeting Ateez lol :3-

-Plus, you know how to speak Korean pretty well because of school, whereas I can hardly speak the only language I do know…</3-

Smiling at your friend’s text, you opened up the website for the raffle on your phone and signed up, thinking with a hint of sarcasm, I’m probably more likely to get struck by lightning… may the odds forever be in my favor, right? Little did you know that just a week later, you’d receive an ear-piercing call from Hinata, her voice bursting with excitement as she screamed that you won the raffle.

The next week was a complete blur for you. Phone calls with KQ executives, packing bags, and getting on a plane bound for Seoul, South Korea. Your head felt so strange as if you were wearing a large fishbowl; everything you heard echoed, yet at the same time was also muffled. Your knuckles were nearly white from the grip you had on your carry-on’s handle. The rhythmic pounding in your chest was so fast you feared your heart might leap out. You sat down in your cozy window seat and took deep, calming breaths. You reminded yourself that change was a gift, and this was an opportunity of a lifetime. Hinata was beyond excited for you, so why shouldn’t you feel the same for yourself? Finally, a chance to embark on your long-held dream of traveling abroad, and luckily for you, you already had a very solid grasp on the language… it’s almost like it was fate. You shook your head, Fate? Please, since when do you believe in such silly things. You closed your eyes as the plane took off, willing yourself to sleep for the duration of the flight.

—Present Day/End of Spring—

The eight men in front of you began to speak, starting from left to right, introducing themselves one at a time. The eldest, had long, dark hair framing his face, a comforting smile, and eyes full of curiosity. His name, Park Seonghwa. The way he carried himself instilled an overwhelming sense of safety within you, and you just felt in your bones you would get along well.

The next man in line was much shorter. Actually, out of all of them you noted, he was the shortest, only taller than you by an inch. His exterior had a look of calm composure, but you could sense chaos within when you made eye contact with him— Kim Hongjoong, he was the Captain of the ship. Despite the intense energy he gave off though, you didn’t find his chaotic nature intimidating. Instead, you could tell that you were both quite similar but weren’t sure whether or not that was a good thing.

Moving on to the man with fluffy brown hair that towered above the rest, his smile was radiant and slightly crooked, which you found very endearing. He waved his large hand at you as he said his name, Jeong Yunho. He had a familiar aura, like a home away from home, so you hoped you would be like family.

Shifting over to the shy man in line, who gave off the energy of a Doberman, but looked like a Maltese. He politely introduced himself— Kang Yeosang. His smile was so warm, it made all your anxieties melt away and suddenly you knew that this raffle was a good change for you. He looked over to the man standing next to him and your gaze followed to the sturdy mountain with dimples. His broad chest and confident posture made him seem scary, but as soon as he spoke his true nature was revealed as the very sweet, Choi San. His upbeat and comic personality had you feeling excited to be his friend. As if a magnet was pulling you towards him, you looked over to the next man in line and felt your face flush a bit.

Song Mingi was his name. His face had such a look of careful observation, disguised as cold indifference. If you hadn’t known any better you would have felt hurt by the look on his face, but something pulled at your heart and you could just feel that he was the most goofy, caring, and kind soul you would ever meet. Fate? I don’t believe in such things… So you brushed off his current expression and begrudgingly moved on to the others in the line.

Next was Jung Wooyoung. He seemed like the polar opposite of Hongjoong, presenting a chaotic exterior, concealing a polite and calm soul that shone brightly through the cracks. You sensed he might be a bit of a handful and would take some adjusting to, but deep down, you could also feel that, once you got to know him, he would prove to be one of the most treasured friends to have by your side. You smiled warmly at him before shifting your gaze to the last, but certainly not the least, man in the group. The moment your eyes fell upon him, memories of the big teddy bear in your room back home flooded your mind. He possessed the most fascinating eyes, somehow managing to be both intensely intimidating and incredibly comforting all at once.

With the final introduction behind you, you realized it was now your turn to speak. You swallowed thickly and took a deep breath, striving to recall all the Korean language lessons you had diligently attended in college.

(translator mode on :3)

“Hello, I’m Y/N and I’m very excited and grateful for the opportunity to live here with you guys. It is so nice to meet you all and I can already feel like we will get along well. Thank you for welcoming me into your home, and I hope that this coming year will be one full of great memories!” You bowed your head quickly and straightened out with a nervous, but excited, smile. The group gazed at you with surprise painted on their faces, though Mingi couldn't help but let a sly smirk dance at the corner of his mouth, as his eyes sparkled with amusement. With all formal introductions fully out of the way, the remaining KQ staff slowly departed from the house, leaving just you and the boys in the living room; the atmosphere was thick with newcomer jitters.

“Aigo! Your Korean is quite good,” Hongjoong praised. He motioned toward the couch for you to sit while the other guys situated themselves in various sitting places around the room. You took note of where Mingi chose to sit, which was on the floor, next to your spot on the couch. Leaning back and propping himself up with his arms, he just focused on you. You shifted a bit in your spot and tried to pry your eyes away from him and onto Hongjoong.

Dismissively you waved your hands, “Ah, it’s not really. I only took a few years of classes during university, but I haven’t gotten to use it much since then, so I am a bit rusty.”

“Nonsense! We understood you perfectly,” Seonghwa smiled.

“Well, either way, I get to practice the language now and I’m very excited to see how much I improve over the next several months,” You buzzed.

“Just talk to Wooyoung, you’ll get plenty of practice in,” San chuckled, casting a playful glance at his best friend.

“Hardy har, I don’t talk that much,” Wooyoung responded, his eyes sending dull daggers toward San.

“Wellll… you kind of do. But we all still love you!” Yeosang chimed in.

“Speak for yourself, Yeo,” Jongho scoffed. Wooyoung lightly pushed the bear of a man, and Jongho pushed back a bit harder. Wooyoung wobbled on his chair trying not to fall over as he regained his balance. You giggled at the comfortable banter amongst the boys.

You looked over at Mingi to see his reaction, but you found that he had been looking at you the whole time. Your breath hitched in your throat as his eyes bore into you, and he opened his mouth to speak.

“So who’s your bias?” He questioned. The other men moved their attention from Wooyoung and Jongho, onto Mingi, and then to you.

“My what?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“Bias? You know, which one of us is your favorite?” He also furrowed his brows, wondering what was with the confusion.

“Who’s my favorite…?” You paused, absorbing the strange requested information from the tall man.

“Yeah… Typically Atiny’s have a favorite member,” He grinned at you, thinking that you were playing a game. Changing his sitting position he rubbed his nose and sniffed, moving to cross his arms smugly adding, “I’m kind of a crowd favorite.” His tongue poked at his cheek mischievously. The others just looked at him with blank stares and shook their heads slightly.

“Are you now?” You teased, looking him up and down. You didn’t doubt for a second that what he said was the truth, he was gorgeous and charismatic, but you and the other guys wouldn’t give him the satisfaction by agreeing with him.

“I’m sure I’ll be your favorite in no time,” He smirked at you and winked. You forced the blush creeping up on your face to go away.

“Well, I’m not really one to play favorites, Mingi,” You teased, feeling comfortable enough with him already to do so, “Plus I don’t know you guys at all, so even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to answer you right now,” You lightly laughed, crossing your arms, and shaking your head at the bleach blond man.

Your response had all eight of them looking at you strangely, and you wondered what you said that made them react that way. Yunho decided to speak for the group, “You don’t… know us?”

Oh… right, they were probably expecting a fan to live with them, you thought before answering, “Not really… I mean I know who you guys are. I don’t live under a rock, my best friend is a huge fan of ATEEZ. Personally, though, I don’t really listen to K-pop much, so aside from what my friend tells me… I know almost nothing. I didn’t even know your names until you guys said them.”

They all raised their eyebrows as far as they could go, mouths nearly agape. It took a second for them to process what they just heard. Mingi however was just curiously eyeing you, a grin still plastered on his face, as he breathily laughed.

“How ironic that out of the hundreds of thousands of Atiny’s that entered the raffle, the person who won isn’t even a fan of ours,” Wooyoung chuckled, which created a chain reaction amongst the boys, who all started laughing.

Thankfully, they didn’t appear to be upset by your lack of fandom, and there was something about Mingi’s reaction that had you thinking he was actually a bit relieved. You couldn’t help but nervously laugh along with them for a moment, as the sheer absurdity of the whole situation finally hit you, “I guess it’s probably a bit disappointing that I don’t know you guys, huh?”

As the boys calmed down, Mingi took the opportunity to answer, “Disappointing? I wouldn’t say that at all. I don’t know about the other guys, but personally, I much prefer that it turned out like this.” He looked at you with wonder, making you feel like the only person in the room. His eyes are so pretty…you snapped out of it when Hongjoong spoke, “I’m curious though, if you aren’t a fan of us, then why did you apply to the raffle?”

“I wanted to travel to someplace new, and it seemed like a really interesting opportunity. A place to live and a job included? It’s not exactly something I would want to pass up. My friend knows me well I guess, which is why she encouraged me to apply,” You stated simply and the boys nodded in approval at your answer.

“That’s a good friend you have,” San approved.

“Yeah, Hinata, she’s great. Actually, she lives in Japan, so this is the closest I’ve ever been to her, which is kind of nice,” You smiled at the realization, “Maybe I’ll take the chance to visit her next year before I have to go.”

The eight men around you had only known you for a short amount of time, but the mention of you leaving them already had them feeling pangs of sadness in their chests. Mingi just looked at you with a straight face, but his eyes— oh his eyes… he’s like a puppy— tell you everything he was feeling.

“So you speak English, Korean, and Japanese… it’s almost like you’re an idol,” Hongjoong pointed out, trying to shift the mood of his group, laughing weakly at his own joke.

“Ha! I’d make a pretty shabby idol,” You chuckled, a shiver running down your spine at the idea of performing, “I don’t do well when it comes to stages or crowds. If only I didn’t have stage fright though because I do like singing and dancing, and I’m not too bad at rapping either…”

“Plus you’re gorgeous,” Wooyoung added, making you feel bashful.

“Looks like we’ve got an ace in the group,” Mingi smirked in the most sinful way as he continued to stare at you. God, those lips of his…

Hongjoong nearly shouted, preventing your mind from going somewhere it shouldn’t, “Oh! Before I forget, we should go over the rules that have been put in place for the coming year.” He got up and grabbed a piece of paper on the kitchen counter before returning to his spot on the couch.

“Rules? Don’t we have enough already because of Hwa?” Mingi sighed. Seonghwa gave him a poisonous side glare, which made Mingi airily laugh.

“There’s only a couple of them. The managers thought it would be a good idea to have them,” Hongjoong said to prevent any arguments.

“So what are they?” You asked, wondering what could be so important that rules had to be put in place.

Hongjoong cleared his throat before he read off the page, “First rule: no unapproved content of the group or Y/N, whether it be pictures or videos, can be posted online.”

“I don’t even use social media, so that’s the easiest rule I’ve ever had to follow,” You chirped.

“Not even TikTok?!” Wooyoung blurted, shocked at what you admitted.

“Especially not that one,” You shook your head, thinking about the days you wasted away on that app in the past. Sure, you had an Instagram account to keep up with Hinata and your friends from back home, but that was it. You never posted on there anyway.

“Glad I won’t have to worry about you then, Y/N. The rule applies to all of us though… so please-” Hongjoong paused to look sternly at San, Yeosang, and Wooyoung, “-just don’t post anything with her okay? There will be a group picture uploaded to ateez_official to show our winner and that’ll be it for now.”

The three boys just gave sheepish grins and looked at the ground. You giggled, loving more and more the dynamic they all had with each other.

“Okay, final rule, and the managers have it in bold so I assume it’s the most important,” Hongjoong read it inaudibly to himself first, eyes going wide, he coughed a bit before sharing it with the room, “uh- um… it just says You aren’t allowed to date her, so don’t even think about it…”

If you were drinking something you would’ve spit it out. You choked on nothing and started laughing, “Seems like another easy rule… as if that would happen.”

Each of the boys had different reactions though. Hongjoong and Seonghwa kept serious faces, thinking that your response was valid but they knew that the rule was actually very necessary. San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang giggled a bit at it and your subsequent reaction, but they too understood how essential the rule was. Yunho and Jongho just looked at Mingi because they already knew that rule would be needed. Mingi looked like a kicked puppy, and your reaction made him feel even worse.

“Ha yeah… easy rule,” Jongho doubted, feeling that having the rule in place might end up causing more trouble than not having it, “Y/N, you will be living with eight guys around the same age as you. It’s more likely than you think…”

You calm down from your laughter, realizing that you were the only one not taking it seriously, “Oh… um— it’s not that I think it’s unlikely. It’s just that it won’t be a problem. Trust me.”

“The managers didn’t seem to think so,” Seonghwa frowned, giving you a worried look.

“I don’t think you understand, Y/N. Since we will all be living together and spending lots of time around you, one of us may end up developing feelings for you,” Yunho clarified, already glaring at Mingi. You suddenly felt very hot in your seat as eight pairs of eyes stared at you once again.

“Oh…” You addressed calmly, “Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news to whoever that could be, but I’m already in a relationship. So when I said to trust me, that it wouldn’t be a problem, I meant it.”

That’s right, you already have a boyfriend, Yn!! Sure… we’ve technically only been dating for a month and it’s not like we love each other. I was going to end things with him before leaving… I mean for crying out loud your love language is quality time! But I do like him though…and he wanted to try long-distance, sooo why not give it a chance. Right???, You internally screamed, kicking yourself ever since you arrived. You were a loyal person above all else and cheating was something you would never ever do. So they really did have nothing to worry about.

The group of boys had a look of relief on their faces, especially Hongjoong, who was glad that there was a solid reason for the rule to be followed. Mingi, however, had a blank expression on his face, trying his best to hide that he felt like he’d been shot by your words.

“Fantastic…” Hongjoong started, “… well then… shall we show you to your room?”

—Beginning of Summer—

The first month of living with them was truly an experience. Hongjoong and San had the best English, so you turned to them whenever the language felt overwhelming, though before you knew it, you were chatting comfortably with each of them. It felt wonderful to form such genuine friendships with them all. Hongjoong loved to share clothes and always showered you with compliments about your unique style. Ever since he discovered your birthday was the day before his, he affectionately started calling you “twin.” When Seonghwa caught you playing Animal Crossing on your Switch, he insisted you add him as a friend, and now you both trade items and play events together.

Typically, when you hung out with San and Wooyoung, you found yourself either acting as a moderator or third wheel, but you didn’t mind one bit because they were always so sweet and made you laugh wholeheartedly; And whenever you craved some peace, you’d seek out Yeosang. His calm demeanor always put you at ease, and when he finally opened up, you discovered his hidden sense of humor, leading to a treasure trove of inside jokes between the two of you about the others.

On the days when you deeply missed your family, spending time with Yunho was a comforting relief. He reminded you so much of your brother and always welcomed you to join him in video games, making everything feel just a little bit more like home. Jongho was happy to have you around since you were the youngest person in the house; only by a year, but to him it meant he could say, “I’m not the maknae, Yn is.”

You once thought that living with a bunch of boys would be a challenge, and while there were moments that tested your patience, they became the most incredible roommates you could have ever hoped for. Thanks to Seonghwa, the house always sparkled with cleanliness, and you never found yourself confronted by those gross odors typical of boys back in the States. To your relief, they weren’t overly rowdy either, which was essential since you cherished the peace and quiet. They would only unleash their loudness on game nights, revealing their fiercely competitive spirits.

Playing games with them was a unique experience; there were times when you knew winning was a distant dream, and others when you felt a glimmer of hope. As you got to understand each of them better, devising strategies became easier. Jongho shared that same competitive fire, and when the two of you teamed up, you were a force to be reckoned with. However, it wasn’t long before the others grew a bit weary of your winning streak, and soon enough, everyone was reassigned to new game night partners. You pulled his name out of the bowl, which is how you ended up with Mingi. When the boys found out that your MBTI was INTP they called you and him the “two Ts in a pod”, thankfully though it didn’t catch on.

After the first week, your initial infatuation with Mingi wore off. So now you were able to enjoy having him as a friend. He was always around you when he could be. Watching movies with you in the living room, helping out in the kitchen as you made food, sitting on your bed when you folded your laundry, playing video games with you and Yunho, teaching you choreography at the studio, walking around with you whenever you decided to get some fresh air, doing his lives with you in the room— behind the screen though, as to not break the first rule, whatever you were doing he was there with you. You liked having him around; and now that it’d been a month of living with him, you considered him to be your best friend, and you were his— well… except when Yunho was around. He would get pouty and Mingi would have to reassure him, “She’s my best girl friend, Yun. You are my soulmate.”

“You mean it?” Yunho would sulk until Mingi would hug him.

“Soulmates since 9th grade,” Mingi reassured him, putting their foreheads together to do their little spin, giving you a wink as he faced you.

Your relationship with your boyfriend had been doing pretty well too. He was putting in a lot of effort to keep in touch with you, which was not something you were expecting but still appreciated. He would call you several times a week when the time difference allowed for it. You noticed every time you picked up his call Mingi would give you a look before he left the room. It was always the same look, and you could never tell what it meant because he somehow looked sad, annoyed, and unbothered all at the same time. Those brown puppy eyes of his made you feel uneasy as he closed the door behind him. It feels like guilt…why? Your calls with him were usually short, and afterward, you would go find Mingi and sit in a comfortable silence until one of you spoke. It was a strange routine you had and you still hadn’t quite figured out why you two had it in the first place.

“How’s the boyfriend?” Mingi asked, breaking you out of your head before you could go down a thought spiral. He’d never asked that question before.

“He’s good, about to go to sleep…” You looked into his eyes searching for any clues to fulfill your curiosity. You kept eye contact for a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity. His boba eyes searched yours, secretly hoping you could hear his internal struggle; wanting you to understand how he felt while also hoping you’d never find out. He looked away and put on a sly smile.

“Good, I get you to myself then,” he laughed. You rolled your eyes, glad to have your familiar banter back.

“You’ve always got me to yourself,” You shook your head, “I hardly get any time with him so it’s nice to have the phone calls.”

He just nodded and snarkily protested, “Yeah but you love me, not him.”

“I…” unsure of how to react to that you looked at the floor and thought, I should be offended that he said that, but I’m not. Your face actually felt kind of hot because of his words and you took a second to brush the feeling off before responding, “Of course I love you, Min. It’s different with him though. I may not be in love with him, but I really do care for him.”

He turned and smiled at you, reaching out to ruffle your hair up. You playfully swatted his arm away and smoothed your hair back down. He just sighed, “He better know how lucky he is to have you then.”

Yawning, he stretched and rested his hands atop his head, which lifted his shirt up a bit exposing a small area of his naval. It caught your eye and you found yourself staring, your face felt hot again. He looked over at you and smirked, “You hungry?”

“Wha—h-huh?” You looked away quickly, meeting his gaze as he lowered his hands back down, a small tint of blush was visible on your face.

“I’m hungry. Do you want to come eat with me?” He rephrased, giving you a knowing look.

“Sure,” you smiled sheepishly, trying to will away the butterflies you were feeling.

—Middle of Summer—

Your job certainly kept you busy, and you were feeling the rush of it all. It had been a few weeks since you started; KQ had graciously allowed you to settle into the house before handing it over to you.

“What’s your dream job?” Hongjoong queried. You thought about it for a moment. Having a job was never something you dreamed of, but you liked having something to keep you occupied, and of course, having money was always nice. Going to college meant you got to be independent for a while, so you did it for the sake of the experience. You majored in art and design since it had always been a passion of yours, but after graduating you weren’t too sure that you wanted to make it a career. It was always more of a hobby anyway.

“Hmmm, I guess I don’t have one,” Your face looked contemplative, but not sad. You were okay with this aspect of yourself, “My dream has always been to travel, so maybe if my job lets me do that then I’d be happy.”

Hongjoong nodded, thinking over your response and then smiled, “Lucky for you then that your job with us will have plenty of that.”

You perked up, “My job?” That’s right, that was part of the raffle. I almost forgot, “What will I be doing?”

After weeks of traveling to multiple places alongside them on tour, you were finally back home, even if just for a little while. That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor in the middle of the empty studio late at night, staring at your reflection in the large mirror. Ateez’s newest assistant manager… has a nice ring to it I guess. You’re basically a glorified nanny— picking up food for the boys while they were practicing, running errands, and ensuring they didn’t overwork themselves. But, honestly, you didn’t mind at all; you had already been doing these things for them before anyway. It just meant you got to spend all day with them and get paid for it, which made you happy. The work wasn’t hard, and the salary was generous— far more than you ever earned at any of your jobs in the US. As you laid down on the floor and gazed up at the ceiling, you reflected on the long day you had. Watching the boys pour their hearts into perfecting their art deepened your admiration for them tenfold. You stretched out on the floor and yawned. I probably should head back to the house, I’m sure they’re all wondering where I’ve been. As you sat back up you heard a light knock at the open door. Mingi walked in and sat next to you, nudging your shoulder with his.

“You good?” He smiled warmly, giving you a much-needed energy boost. You smiled back at him and nodded, looking at his eyes— those eyes, gosh I never get tired of looking at them, full of so much emotion. He always looked at you with such care and it made your stomach flutter.

“Aigo, what time is it?” You opened your phone to check and noticed a missed call from your boyfriend, “Shit…”

Mingi’s eyebrows raised, “Where’d you learn to talk like—” He stopped as he saw the notification, taking a sharp inhale, and furrowing his eyebrows. You tried calling him back but it just went to voicemail.

“Shit. He’s probably upset that I didn’t pick up,” You put your phone down and flopped back onto the floor, looking at the ceiling once again.

Mingi had never seen you upset like this before and he hated it. Hated that he was the cause of it. He laid down next to you, your arms brushed up against each other, and he looked over at you, “Maybe he’s just asleep… I’m sure he’s not mad about one missed phone call.”

You could feel your eyes getting misty and you tried to blink away tears before they could form, “It’s not just one missed phone call. He’s been a lot busier lately and with my new job, our schedules just don’t line up anymore… I— I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks. I just don’t know what I’m doing with him anymore, Min. I’ve been with him for over three months… I thought by now that my feelings for him would have grown stronger, but they haven’t. Maybe I should’ve ended things with him like I had planned before coming here…”

Mingi thought hearing you say something like that would’ve made him feel ecstatic but it didn’t. He looked over at you and saw a single tear break free, rolling down your cheek. He thumbed it away and grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circles on it. You covered your eyes with your other arm trying to hide as you started to softly cry. Mingi could feel tears threatening to bubble up to his eyes, but he forced them away trying to focus on consoling you. He continued to rub circles on your hand, slowly as you calmed down until the tears stopped. Your face felt hot and your eyes puffy. Using his free hand, Mingi slowly caressed the tear stains on your face. It made you understand just how much he cared for you, whether it be as a friend or as more, you didn’t care. What you truly cared about was the realization that you had devoted more time and affection to him, your best friend, than to your own boyfriend— you felt immensely guilty like you had been emotionally cheating. You know what you have to do, Yn. You turned to look at Mingi, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his gaze offering you comfort.

“Thank you,” You whispered to him.

“For what?” He whispered back.

“For always making me feel better, for always being here,” You comfortably sighed.

“I’ll always be there for you, Yn. Always,” A stray tear started to roll down his cheek and you wiped it away, carefully caressing his face with your thumb. He closed his eyes and melted into your touch. You waited a bit to enjoy the moment before you spoke.

“I have to break up with him… don’t I?” You whispered so quietly that he almost didn’t hear you. His eyes opened when your words registered with him, making his heart beat faster.

He cleared his throat before answering, “Is that what your heart is telling you?”

You thought about it and nodded slowly. Your heart wasn’t telling you he was the one, and maybe you always knew it would end up this way. You knew with full certainty though that you’d be fine, as long as you had Mingi by your side.

It took a few days, but you were finally able to call him. You expected that he wouldn’t take the news well, but what you didn’t expect was him yelling that you didn’t even try, nor did you ever care for him. The phone call ended with your face once again tear-stained, shocked at his reaction, left wondering if you really knew who he was in the first place.

As you opened the door to your room, Mingi was waiting, leaning against the wall. His arms were crossed and his face looked angry, you assumed that he could hear your boyfriend— no, ex-boyfriend— yelling at you. You were tired and didn’t want to deal with trying to talk him down, but as soon as he saw your face, his angry expression dropped, and he pulled you into a deep hug. His chin rested on your head, hot tears finding their way to the corners of his eyes. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, his warm embrace being everything you needed in that moment. The other boys had heard the yelling too and were huddled at the end of the hall, feeling a range of emotions, but most of all aching that they couldn’t do anything to help you right now. They each went back to their rooms, letting Mingi do what he did best. Love.

After what seemed like hours, he graciously guided you to your room, helped you prepare for bed, and laid down beside you. That night, you found solace in his embrace, holding onto him tightly as tears streamed down your cheeks until you finally drifted off to sleep, comforted by his tender strokes through your hair.

—Last Day of Summer—

It’d been four months since you moved in and three short weeks since the breakup. The morning after, you had woken up to find yourself in bed alone, assuming that Mingi must have gone to his room quietly after you had drifted off to sleep. The events of the night before had been intense, you couldn't shake the memory of how furious he was. Though, strangely enough, you didn’t feel guilty like you'd expected. Instead, an overwhelming wave of relief washed over you. You hadn’t fully grasped the mental toll that relationship was taking on you, and now that you were free from him, you could finally see just how toxic he truly was. You felt silly for not seeing it before.

So now that it’d been a few weeks, you were getting ready for work and found yourself feeling the happiest you’d ever been—enjoying single life and the moments spent with your eight amazing roommates. Feeling especially grateful for your best friend and the depth of his care for you. You thought back to when he helped you get ready for bed, even when all you wanted was to curl into a ball and sob until you lost consciousness. He chose your favorite pajamas, turned away while you changed, and gently helped you through your skincare routine. He even grabbed his toothbrush from his bathroom so you could brush your teeth together. Then, when it was time to sleep, he laid down beside you, ensuring you fell asleep with a sense of peace.

Mingi was truly a blessing in your life, and your love for him ran deep. You couldn't help but smile, thinking about how his personality did a one-eighty from when you first met him to now; you laughed as you remembered the little crush you used to have on him. Used to? You stopped laughing, eyes shooting wide at your intrusive thought. You shook your head trying to clear it away like you were an etch-a-sketch, Yes… used to. I don’t anymore. I love him, but I’m not in love with him. Deciding to move past it, you finished getting ready and headed to work with the guys.

————————————-☆-—————————————

Today was a rare day, everyone had a free afternoon in their schedules and the boys had decided it would be fun to do something together.

“How about karaoke?” San suggested. Everyone looked at him with blank expressions and side eyes, deflating him a bit.

“Really? We just got back from the studio, no more singing today,” Yunho groaned, “How about an amusement park?”

Yunho’s suggestion made San perk back up, liking that idea much more than his own. The other guys and you agreed too, and you felt a rush of anticipation—an amusement park sounded like a blast, and luckily there was one not too far away. Memories flooded back; could it really have been so long since your last visit to a theme park? Maybe Disney World when I was ten? The thought sent a thrill through you, especially at the idea of the roller coasters, knowing how much joy they had brought you back then. A harsh reminder brought you down from your excitement though; a famous boy group in a crowded park? Not a good idea. You sulked, which grabbed the attention of Mingi.

“What’s got you down? You seemed so excited just a second ago,” he prodded.

“Did you guys forget who you are for a second? We couldn’t possibly go to such a popular place so close to a comeback, you’d be swarmed,” You looked at each of the boys, some of them already sporting a new haircut or color. Mingi’s grown-out bleach job was replaced with brown dye and blonde streaks. It made him look a bit like a calico cat actually, which you thought was really cute. Yeosang had neon green hair peppered with black stripes, Yunho’s hair was silver, and San’s flaming red hair practically begged for the attention of everyone within a kilometer radius. A few of them furrowed their brows, a flicker of understanding passing over their faces as they realized you were right. They slumped a little, the weight of disappointment settling in as they felt their fun afternoon slipping away. Hongjoong, however, pulled out his phone and smirked.

“Give me a second,” He said, dialing a number.

A couple of phone calls later, you found yourself in an empty, Lotte World, a surreal playground all to yourselves. The entire park had been closed for the rest of the day just for the eight boys standing beside you. Sometimes, you forgot about the immense power they possessed, and you found it extremely intimidating. The only other people around were you and the few park staff members left to keep the rides running. Oh— and a crew of cameras—Hongjoong only managed to convince them to go along with the idea by agreeing to have content filmed. So, while you were technically working, your only real task was to have fun.

This was the very first time you’d be on camera with them since the group picture that was taken when you first met. It sent a wave of unease through you as if a million prying eyes would be scrutinizing your every move. Mingi noticed the change in your demeanor as the cameras were being set up and turned on.

Instinctively, he draped his arm over your shoulders, his hand offering a gentle, reassuring comfort as he slowly rubbed up and down your right shoulder. You eased into his touch and felt your anxiety levels decrease as you searched for his familiar cologne to envelope your senses; he always smelled of wood, citrus, and mint, a combination you’d grown to love. Today though, his cologne smelled a bit more musky, like warm sage and sea salt. To your surprise it made your mouth water a bit; breathing in deeply, you asked him, “New cologne?”

He looked at you with a smirk, hoping you’d notice. He gave a quiet mhmm in response, as he moved you in front of him and started massaging between your neck and shoulders. The varied pressure made you close your eyes and quietly sigh, melting beneath his ministrations. Pulling you a bit closer to him, he leaned down next to your ear, and just slightly above a whisper asked, “Alrighty then, where should we go first?”

It made you jump a bit and squirm out of his hold on you, your ears felt hot. What the hell is in the air here? Mingi looked more attractive to you than ever and you swallowed a thick lump in your throat you didn’t realize was there. You coughed a bit to clear it, and the feeling, away before you spoke. Thinking about what you wanted to do most here, your eyes gleamed with excitement, “How about we go on a rollercoaster?”

As if it was now his turn to have his demeanor change, Mingi’s aura shifted. He no longer had that flirty air about him, instead, he froze. He tried hiding it, but his face went pale and eyes wide. The calm breathing he had before was replaced with shallow breaths as his heart rate picked up. He really was a big scaredy cat. You didn’t seem to notice though as you grabbed his hand and dragged him along with you to find the nearest rollercoaster, yelling out to the others, “Who wants to come with us?”

Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Yunho eagerly joined in, and San, wanting to stick close to you all, tagged along as well. However, when you reached the coaster, he suddenly hesitated, backing out and opting to wait at the entrance. “Are you sure?” you asked, disliking the thought of him waiting alone. He nodded quietly, but before you could offer to stay with him, Mingi interjected, “I’ll wait with him, it’s okay.”

Mentally, he let out a sigh of relief, grateful for this easy escape from having to ride what he considered to be a death trap. You watched as they walked away from the empty line, heading towards the outside of the ride. Turning your attention back to the exciting rollercoaster in front of you, you felt a rush of anticipation as the employee prepared everything. You shared a glance with Yunho, both of you silently agreeing to sit together. Outside, San stood captivated by the sprawling metal structure of the coaster, while Mingi's gaze was fixated on the entrance.

Once the initial sense of relief passed over him, a different feeling began to settle in—regret. Now that he was away from your side, he couldn’t shake the longing feeling that he wished to have stayed and pushed through his fears. It wasn’t until he was out of breath, one hand resting on Yunho’s shoulder, that he realized he had sprinted back. You were already situated in your seat on the coaster, and Mingi had just reached Yunho in time before he boarded. Yunho, recognizing the urgency in Mingi’s eyes, nodded with understanding, aware of his friend's silent plea, and quickly left to accompany San. You looked over with confusion in your eyes, but a smile on your face when you saw him sitting down in the seat next to yours, pulling the bar above over his shoulders to secure himself in. There was no going back now, but he didn’t care, as long as it meant he got to be beside you.

Despite how he felt on the inside though, he couldn’t stop his body from reacting to his fear. As the ride slowly started to go up the incline towards the first drop his eyes screwed shut and his breath began to match his erratic heartbeat. You heard the labored breathing next to you and saw that Mingi was absolutely terrified, worried for him you asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I…” He struggled to speak, hyperventilating by this point, “I’m scared of heights…”

“What!” Your eyes blew wide, full of concern, “Then… why did you get on?”

He grabbed your hand, and squeezed it tightly, hoping that your touch would help ground him, “I… I wanted to be with you.”

The coaster was now only a mere meter away from the drop, but all you could do was look at him. His desire to be with me outweighed his fear… Your eyes remained locked on him, brimming with a mix of love and concern. You gently intertwined your fingers, and he finally opened his eyes to meet yours. In those familiar brown depths, you could read his every emotion. His gaze had always been a window to his soul, revealing his true feelings. While on the surface he looked mortified, his eyes whispered a different truth—that he had never felt more at ease and secure in his life. As the coaster finally dropped he exclaimed, “Y/N-ah!— I love you!”

The exhilarating rush of adrenaline from the coaster intertwined with his confession left you feeling truly electric. You raised your hands high, savoring every second of the ride, and slowly, he lifted his hands too, a radiant smile blossoming on his face. Seeing his huge smile as his fears melted away tugged at your heartstrings so deeply that whatever had been holding you back from embracing your feelings for him shattered completely. You found yourself swept up on a rollercoaster of emotions, realizing with extreme clarity that you were truly in love with Song Mingi, finally allowing yourself to believe in the magic of fate. Just loud enough for him to hear you gushed, “I love you too, Mingi-ah!”

You couldn’t see his face very clearly, but you could feel his warmth as he shifted your conjoined hands to press a heartfelt kiss against the back of your hand, causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter uncontrollably. As the coaster finally came to a stop, your hand still remained tightly interlaced with Mingi’s, it just felt so natural; but when an employee approached to assist you both out of your seats and a camera crew waited for you to get off, ready to capture the moment, you found yourself reluctantly having to let go. Holding hands was a sweet, innocent gesture between friends, yet the presence of the camera made you hesitate, it felt too intimate in front of the lens. It took a bit of time to finally pry yourselves away from them, but once you did, you were hit by a sudden desire to get a bag of theme park popcorn.

Making your way back by yourself from a concession stand, you stumbled upon voices speaking in stern, hushed tones. You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but when you heard your name being mentioned, it froze you in your tracks. Discerning the voices from each other you realized that, Wooyoung, San, Yeosang, and Yunho were talking to Mingi.

“I’m not stupid Mingi, and neither are they, we can clearly see that something is going on between you and Yn,” Wooyoung exasperated.

“Woah, woah, I never said you were stupid,” Mingi rebutted, feeling a little hurt, “Do you really think I would call you that and actually mean it?”

“Woo—” San warned, trying to bring his friend down to a level-headed place, “careful…”

Wooyoung glanced over at San, then to Mingi, and back to San again, taking a deep breath to calm himself because he wished to avoid making things worse, “Right sorry… what I mean is; We heard you on the ride, loudly confessing to her, and then you’re expecting us to pretend like we didn’t?”

Mingi looked at the ground and shuffled his feet, unsure of what to say. You listened intently once he found the words, “I’m not going to ask you to pretend. Feel free to shout it out like I did, but before you do, think about how it affects her. Not me. She’s the one that would face the consequences of my actions. If anyone is stupid here, it’s me. I was selfish instead of being smart. I don’t want to have to regret saying it to her, so please… not for me but for her, could it stay between us?”

There was a silence as Wooyoung thought over the proposition he was given, and Yunho was the one that commented next, “I can’t say I’m surprised. I figured it was only a matter of time before you told her how you felt.”

“It’s just a shame you can’t do anything about it,” Yeosang added, always being one wanting to see love win.

“Well… not exactly,” San grinned, “We can pretend to not know anything. It’s just a matter of making sure that Joong, Hwa, and the managers don’t find out.”

“And Jongho,” Wooyoung added, finally breaking his silence, finding it hard to stay upset when Mingi’s puppy eyes were present.

“Jongho already knows about Mingi’s feelings, and he would figure it out pretty quickly if we acted like nothing was going on. Getting him in on it is better than keeping him out of it, he’s less trouble that way,” Yunho disagreed, earning concurring nods from the other three.

“Are you guys going to let me in on it too, or am I to be kept in the dark as well?” You chimed in giggling, deciding it was probably a good moment for you to join the conversation.

“How long have you been there?” Mingi asked, his face feeling hot.

“Long enough…” You smirk, giving him a knowing look.

“None of that…” Wooyoung butts in, “It looks hella obvious when you look at each other like that.”

“Like what?” You inquired, tongue in cheek, playing dumb. You felt frustrated by the assumptions being made, especially since you and Mingi hadn't yet had the opportunity to discuss it together.

Wooyoung sighed heavily, and once again Yunho spoke in place of him, “Look… we’ve all been away for a while, and people are going to start noticing. For now, let’s just head back and enjoy the park while we can, we can figure this out later. I’m sure we’re all hungry; where should we eat after?”

————————————-☆-—————————————

You once thought the world to be anti-romantic, but that wasn't always your belief. You grew up filled with hope, longing for the kind of love that danced through the pages of books and lit up the screens of movies, and you were certain that such love would one day find its way to you. It was, without a doubt, your heart's deepest desire. So when you got your first boyfriend, you believed that this was it, your dream was finally going to come true. Except it didn’t— you were only in middle school and two days later he dumped you for the girl you sat next to in class. It was okay though. You were a resilient kid, determined to not let a fleeting moment with a silly boy dim your spirit, so handling it with grace you moved forward. Throughout high school, you had crushes that flickered like weak candle flames, nothing ever truly igniting. It had slowly started to dim your hope. Your standards had become impossibly high molded by the enchanting stories of fictional romance that no ordinary teenage boy could ever hope to match. It wasn’t until college that you entered your first real relationship, the taste of first love felt exhilarating. It lasted for a couple precious years, but it all came crashing down when you discovered your only love had been cheating on you. You were heartbroken, utterly shattered, and this time, your hope didn’t have the strength to bounce back. You couldn’t help but wonder why you even bothered getting into that relationship with your most recent ex-boyfriend, especially when you hadn’t any hope it would work left within you. That is, until you met him— the man sitting in front of you who you hadn’t realized took your shattered hope and pieced it back together with his gentle love. So now, as you watched him set a piece of food on your plate, you could say with full certainty that you no longer believed the world to be anti-romantic, and that true love does exist, it just takes its time to find you once you’re ready for it.

You paused in eating, eager to capture Mingi’s attention. He was always so completely immersed in his food when he truly enjoyed it, and you couldn’t help but find that trait of his really adorable. When he finally looked up and caught your gaze, a wide smile appeared across his face, making your heart swell. Looking down at your shared table, you made sure that no one was looking before you turned back to him and mouthed, I love you.

You didn’t know it was even possible for him to smile bigger, yet somehow he did. A soft giggle slipped from your lips when you noticed the tips of his ears turning a cute shade of pink, and with an adorably flustered expression, he cupped his face in his hands, trying to hide as the color deepened to a vibrant red. Your heart raced at his reaction, and you could feel a warm blush creeping onto your cheeks. Wooyoung, sitting beside you, caught onto what was going on and lightly nudged your shoulder and Mingi’s foot from beneath the table, delivering a silent reminder that you both needed to tone down the obviousness. Eventually, he uncovered his face, scratching at the back of his head as he struggled to redirect his focus back to his plate. Just when you thought the tension might linger, Hongjoong came through with a perfect distraction— a drinking game. He set down on the table a lottery spinner, and the balls inside held rousing questions just waiting to be unleashed. Rules of play were simple; a spun fork chooses who gets to go, when you get a ball from the cage you have to answer its question, and if you don’t, take a shot.

Hongjoong started off the game with the first spin. You watched the fork tantalizingly go round and round before it stopped on… you. A nervous grin was plastered on your face as the spinner was passed down to you; you gave its handle a couple of turns before a ball popped out. Opening up the small plastic container, you pulled out a folded piece of paper, and smoothed it out before reading aloud, “What physical feature do you find the most attractive?”

A small wave of ‘ooo’s and looks of curiosity passed throughout the group. You weren’t expecting the questions to be risqué, yet here you were, staring down at one that made your stomach do a flip. Your throat felt suddenly dry, and everyone staring at you in anticipation made your seat feel hot. Out of all the people there, Mingi was the last person you expected to say, “Oh, this’ll be good…”

He had his arms propped up on the table, his chin resting on his hands, and a sinful grin playing at the corner of his lips. To you and the guys who knew, it was painfully clear what he was up to, but to those who didn’t, he appeared to be nothing more than a playful, teasing friend. You gave him a warning glare, to which he responded by mischievously poking his tongue slightly between his teeth and scrunching up his nose. He’s cute… so I’ll let it slide.

“Welll? What’s the answer!” Wooyoung poked, wiggling his eyebrows, earning an amused chortle from you. Figuring there’d been enough suspense for the night, you cleared your throat and then quickly answered, “Lips.”

“Any size?” San inquired, joining in on the apparent group taunt fest.

Face getting red, you answered, “No… I like big lips the most,” Looking down you quietly added, “ I-I mean…I really like kissing and it makes it more enjoyable. At least it is for me anyways, I don’t speak for anyone else.”

Not realizing the effects your words had on him, Mingi’s leg was nervously bouncing, and his cheeks had a slight dusting of blush on them. Ending your turn, you spun the fork and silently prayed that it wouldn’t land on you again for the rest of the night. Round and round it went, coming to a stop on… Mingi. He opened the ball that the spinner spit out for him and read it aloud, “Who was your last spicy dream about?”

His head whipped up in shock, his eyes wide with mortification reaching for his glass to take a shot, receiving a few disappointed groans from his curious friends. After downing his drink, he locked eyes with you, giving you a silent answer that secretly you had desired to know. Smirking you decided to take the opportunity to mess with him like he did with you.

“Come on man, not even going to humor us?” You teased. Wooyoung had stifled a cackle at the look on Mingi’s face— a nervous side eye as he shook his head, spinning the fork to end his turn. You just snickered, feeling content with his reaction.

————————————-☆-—————————————

Nighttime had fully settled in by the time everyone left the restaurant and the hot humidity of the day had dissipated from the air. It was a warm, refreshing walk back to the house, and with the bittersweet knowledge that it was the last day of summer, you felt a deep yearning to do one last thing before it slipped away, “I want to get some ice cream, any of you guys want to join?”

The guys paused for a moment, weighing their options, but after a long and exhausting day, they ultimately decided to head home for some much-needed rest. As expected, Mingi chose to stay behind, lingering in the promise of alone time with you. Once the guys had walked out of view, you felt slightly awkward, uncertain about how to move forward now that things had shifted between you. Almost immediately, though, Mingi reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers in a gentle embrace that brought a sense of comfort through his familiar presence. He always had a remarkable ability to put you at ease in those moments of tension, making your world feel just a little bit lighter. As you started your journey towards the nearest convenience store, he cleared his throat, “So… big lips huh?”

You playfully punched his arm with your free hand and then covered your face, embarrassed you admitted to that truth earlier. He moved your hand away gently so that he could look at you. One of the first things you noticed about him was his lips, and every time you looked at them it stirred something within you. Deep down you’d always wondered what it would be like to kiss him, how his plush lips would feel on yours. Would they be firm? Soft? Slow or hungry? You couldn’t help but stare at them now. He smirked as he realized where your gaze was directed and he licked his lips, “What kind of ice cream do you want?”

You looked away to find that you were already in front of a freezer stocked with the sweet treat. When did we get here? He pulled out a banana flavor for himself and waited patiently, thinking quickly you answered, “Uhhhh… strawberry.”

He picked one out just for you, went inside to pay, and then returned to settle beside you on the bench outside. In the warm air and a comfortable silence, you both savored your ice cream; every now and then stealing glances at the other, before returning back to your delicious treat. You both were acting like giddy kids with their first crush. As you took the last bite of your ice cream and discarded the wrapper in a nearby bin, out of the corner of your eye you spotted a playground and booked it for the swings. Mingi, caught off guard by your sudden movement, understood quickly and followed after, tossing his empty wrapper away.

You loved the swings, always feeling a rush of freedom when you soared through the air like a bird. Slowly, you swung back and forth, tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of the stars, though you could only catch faint glimmers due to the bright city’s relentless light pollution. Mingi mimicked you, but he ended up losing his balance and tumbled right out of the swing seat. He hit the ground with a soft thud. Instantly you rushed over, anxiously checking if he was okay. His small, infectious laughter reassured you that he was fine, and you couldn’t help but join in, finding it hilarious how he always seemed to forget just how tall he was.

You grabbed his hand to help him sit up and dusted the dirt off his shoulders, not realizing how close you ended up to his face until you felt his warm breath on you. He was biting at his lip as he stared at yours, causing your heart to flutter. Your faces merely a couple of centimeters away from each other, you’d only have to move just a bit to— Mingi pressed his lips upon yours, closing the gap between you. His lips were soft, like a velvety pillow against your own. You could feel the gentle tickle of his breath beneath your nose, as his fingers wove through your hair. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss as you both lost yourselves in the intoxicating sensation of each other’s touch. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, and you happily parted, granting him access into your mouth. In that moment, you realized you would forever love the combination of strawberry and banana that flooded your senses. After what felt like a blissful eternity, you finally separated, your breaths mingling as you rested your foreheads together. He smiled gently, eyes sparkling, and he gave you a quick, tender peck that held a world of affection, “I love you so much, Yn. Ever since I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one for me.”

His words made you absolutely melt, making you feel like the main character of an early 2000s rom-com movie, “You gave me the hope to believe in love again, Song Mingi.”

You gave him a deep, heartfelt kiss, pouring into it every emotion you desperately wished to express for him. He grinned against your mouth, glad that he finally had you.

“I’m going to safely assume that this means we're dating now, in secret?” He said looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes that made you feel weak in the knees.

“Oooh, this will be fun. Dating in secret, like we are in some kind of sitcom or something,” You grinned, assuring him he was right in his assumption, “We should head back soon though if we want to keep this a secret.”

—Middle of Fall—

Six months since moving in and over a month of secretly dating Mingi. You two have become quite skilled at creating the illusion of being just friends, though really the only thing that had changed was that now you shared kisses when no one else was watching. For Halloween, you had a couple's "besties" costume; you dressed up as Fred and Daphne, and somehow you had convinced Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho to be Shaggy, Scooby, and a gender-bent Velma, to keep suspicion at bay. Hongjoong and Seonghwa seemed none the wiser, and you and Mingi were as happy as ever.

—Beginning of Winter—

7 months. You began researching apartments in the area, knowing that you’d much prefer to stay in Korea than return to the States. This was home for you now. During your secret sleepovers, Mingi would eagerly share his thoughts on which neighborhoods offered the best apartments, that somehow were always conveniently within walking distance for him. You weren’t going to complain though.

—Christmas Day—

8 months. Mingi surprised you with a gift you had always hoped for over the years, and you couldn't help but wonder how he knew that you wanted it. He must be able to read minds… oh, Jesus, I hope not. The thoughts I’ve had about him… You gave him a handmade gift, which made him cry; he was such a deeply emotional person, which you loved more than anything.

Christmas was one of your favorite holidays, and you had always wanted to share a kiss with your boyfriend under the mistletoe, a sweet moment you had never experienced before. When you had spied some dangling over a door frame, you scanned the area for watchful eyes before you pulled him in for a quick kiss. Well, maybe not so quick… he pulled you back in, turning it into a fervent, hasty make-out session that left you both breathless.

—New Year's Eve—

Only a few days later, the guys and the KQ managers had organized a team New Year’s Eve party. As the clock struck midnight, you and Mingi locked eyes from across the room, playfully blowing kisses to each other, not daring to do it for real in front of everyone. Though, once everyone had gone to bed, you finally got to share your New Year’s kiss, “Happy New Year, Yn.”

“Happy New Year, Min.”

—End of Winter—

10 months. It was nearly a year since you moved in, and today was your five-month anniversary with Mingi. You both were fortunate enough to have the day off and at last, you could finally celebrate together. Since Hongjoong and Seonghwa dedicated their entire day to fine-tuning their Matz performance at the studio, you two were free to do as you pleased, without having to worry about getting caught. He surprised you with a wonderful breakfast, that he made himself, and after you finished eating together, he excitedly told you to get ready because he had something special planned for the day.

As you were getting ready though, outside rain began to pour, heavily; the moment the first crack of thunder rolled in, it became clear that your plans were dashed. You heard a soft knock at your door, and Mingi poked his head in with a warm smile that brightened the gloomy atmosphere, “Change of plans, put your pajamas back on. Let’s make a blanket fort.”

So you did, and it was amazing. It was enormous, full of soft pillows, twinkling string lights, and an array of fluffy blankets to lay on. The fort’s opening was perfectly positioned right in front of the TV in his room, and you had a double feature of each of your favorite movies.

—Beginning of Spring—

Work comeback was happening in a couple of months and the festival performances were starting to pick up, and after the long winter break from the last tour, you were excited to be traveling with them once again. KCON was upon you in just a few days, and you felt like a hamster tirelessly running on a wheel amidst the whirlwind of preparations. Yet, despite the chaos, everything felt just right because you got to spend every day by his side, watching him passionately rehearse until he deemed the routine to be perfect. He always looks so hot when he’s dancing.

“You’re drooling, Yn,” Yunho laughed.

“Ha ha… am not,” You snapped out of the trance Mingi had you in and you wiped your mouth, it was dry, Yunho was just teasing you.

“You practically were,” San jumped in, also noticing how you were staring, “Gotta be more careful, you’re gonna give yourself away.”

You looked over to where the managers, Joong, and Hwa were, talking to each other about KCON details, “Yeah… they’re too busy to notice anything right now. Thank god…”

“You were looking at him like some horny teenager,” Wooyoung chimed in, joining the bandwagon, “Heck if I didn’t know any better I’d think that you two haven’t— nah, you two have had… right?”

You looked at him with big eyes, face red as ever, whispered yelling at him, “Shhhhhut up, Woo.”

“Are you serious? You two really haven’t slept together yet?” He looked shocked. Yunho pushed him a bit, signaling him to cut it out.

“Who cares if they have or haven’t. It’s none of your business,” Yunho defended.

“Thank you, Yun. It really isn’t his business,” you huffed.

“Yeah, Woo, we all live under the same roof. We would hear them if they were,” San theorized, thinking that he was helping, causing you to hide your face in your hands out of embarrassment.

“They could go somewhere else,” Wooyoung rattled on.

You let out a muffled groan, “Why do you want to know so bad…”

“Know what?” Mingi had walked over to take a water break, wondering what had you so flustered.

“Why you two haven’t fucked yet,” Wooyoung said nonchalantly.

Mingi choked on his water, sending him into a coughing fit, he croaked out, “Wh-what? W-why are you talking about that?”

“The way Yn was looking at you earlier… let’s just say it wasn’t very PG,” Yunho attested. You glared daggers at him. So much for defending me earlier, huh?

Mingi looked at you with a smirk, “Oh really?”

“Please not you too. This is four against one now, it’s not fair,” You whined quietly, “It’s also not a very safe topic of conversation, there are people here that aren’t supposed to know about us, remember??”

They all looked over at said people, who were still not aware of what was going on, you continued, “It’s far too public to talk about that.”

“Careful there, Yn. Your words sound borderline suggestive,” Wooyoung jested.

You got up and started to leave, “Yeah no, not doing this anymore. I’ve got things to do, gotta work ya know.”

“Ahh come on, I’m just having fun,” Wooyoung pouted, Mingi pushed him slightly, causing him to fall over. The three boys just laughed at him as you left the room, taking a much-needed calming breath as the studio door closed behind you.

————————————-☆-—————————————

There was a team meeting in fifteen minutes, and you found yourself preparing coffee for everyone, standing in quiet anticipation as you waited for the coffee maker to finish brewing. Suddenly, you felt a pair of arms wrap gently around your waist, drawing you into a warm back hug. Mingi rested his chin in the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry for earlier. Woo has no filter when it comes to that sort of thing.”

You turned around and hooked your arms around his neck, “Oh I know. It’s fine really, no harm done, just extremely flustered is all.”

He nodded, moving his hands so that they settled on your waist and lazily rubbed circles, “Still, he shouldn’t have kept messing with you. So what if we haven’t? Why rush? We have the rest of our lives together.”

“The rest of our lives?” You grinned.

“Of course, you’re not getting rid of me that easy,” he laughed.

You smirked, “Well I hope I won’t have to wait that long…”

He raised his eyebrows, mouth slightly agape, you continued on, “Do you plan on making me wait, Princess?”

His face flushed at the nickname, caught off guard by how it was used. With a spark of newfound confidence, you playfully continued to tease him, letting your hand glide down his chest before using your pointer and middle finger to slowly walk in a line back up. He leaned in closer, his voice taking on a graveled tone, “Of course not, I just never wanted to make you feel pressured, that's all.”

“You could never make me feel pressured, Min. We don’t have to rush, but it’s been pretty long already… don’t you think?” You whispered, faces close enough to feel each other’s breath.

Mmm, was all he could muster in response before crashing his lips against yours. Unlike the first time you kissed, this one was filled with a deeper hunger and a passionate fire that burned for the other. He lifted you effortlessly and set you down on the counter, continuing to kiss you with fervor, moving from your lips to your ear, and then trailing down to your neck. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you felt him smirk against your skin, a mixture of desire and longing building inside you both. His hands snaked up under your shirt, resting his hands above your waist, and you carded your fingers through his hair, while your other hand pulled him in closer to you.

“Hey Y/N, the new choreographer is lactose intoler—” Seonghwa entered the room, stopping at the sight before him. You both broke apart immediately. Mingi helped you down from the counter, and you bit at your thumb nervously. Seonghwa just stared at you both, dumbfounded, and then continued as if nothing happened, “—anyways. Just make sure that you don’t put milk in there alright… I saw nothing.”

As quick as he entered, he left, leaving both you and Mingi in shock. You giggled nervously, “Welp! Hwa knows now. Do you think he will say anything to Joong?”

Mingi thought for a moment before he shook his head and laughed, “No, I think we’re good for now, but it’s probably best to save the hot and heavy stuff for when we aren’t at work from now on.”

You flashed him a sheepish grin as the coffee maker chimed, signaling that it had finished brewing. Turning to pour the dark liquid into each cup, you tried your best to recompose yourself after what just happened. Mingi snapped the lids on once you were done, then offered his hand to help carry half of them to the team meeting, a small gesture that made your heart flutter.

—Coachella—

12 months since winning the raffle, and one week until you had to move out. Lord have mercy on my soul, pleaseeeeee, was all you could think when your platinum blond boyfriend walked out of the dressing room. You felt embarrassingly turned on just by what he was wearing; an unbuttoned jacket, and distressed jeans that left little to the imagination, paired with a large faux tattoo scrawled across his chest advertising his signature phrase. It was all too much, you could already feel your face heating up, and the sweltering weather of the valley was not helping; Neither was the fact that you and him still hadn’t found the chance to relieve any of your accumulated tension… since there was always someone around to interrupt your attempts, keeping you from going through with what you both longed for. You had reached a point where sexual frustration was constantly bothering you, with no way to resolve it. Before you and him had talked about the possibility of it, self-satisfaction was enough to ease the longing, but now, not even that could provide the relief you desperately craved. Just seeing him walk around had you involuntary pressing your thighs together. You had never felt more aroused before than you did now and it was becoming distracting to your task at hand.

Your job today was to lend a hand with quick changes and keep track of props. The guys would soon start their last performance and you still hadn’t double-checked that each prop was in its correct spot backstage. Shaking your head to clear your mind, you got up and headed towards the prop table. Everything was in its rightful place and you didn’t have much to do but wait, so you kept yourself busy by fiddling with the cane that your silly boyfriend held during his part in Arriba.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to play with the props before?” Mingi leaned in, whispering sweetly in your ear from behind, startling you and causing your heart to race. You spun around, eyes wide, holding your chest as if it would soothe your erratic heartbeat. With furrowed brows and a lighthearted faux frown, you swatted at him, but he effortlessly dodged your playful attempt.

“Jesus Min! Don’t sneak up on me like that,” You lightly chastised as you crossed your arms, not actually upset just spooked.

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist,” He smiled, hands up in the air in surrender, “Anyways, are you excited for the show?”

“Always!” You beamed.

“What do you think of tonight’s outfit,” He did a little twirl, holding out his arms, displaying the large tattoo for you better. Trying to hide the blush on your face you looked away from him, and he grinned, “I’ll take that as a yes then?”

Nodding, you turned your gaze back to him, biting down on your tongue, your eyes lingering on him with a mix of lust and love, “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear…”

“I’ll go put a shirt on right now, I can’t have you dying on me,” He joked.

“No, keep it off. One less thing to take off later,” You teased, feeling proud as you watched his face turn a light shade of red.

“Oh? What’s later?” He flirted back, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

“You’ll find out after the show,” You grinned, leaving him hanging, and giving him a reminder, “You’re on in five.”

“Cheer for me?” He said, flashing a cocky smile as he slowly started walking to join the rest of the guys.

“Of course! Knock ‘em dead, Princess,” You winked, blowing him a kiss.

————————————-☆-—————————————

The morning sun poured in through the hotel curtains, gently coaxing you awake. Your eyes fluttered open, landing on tousled, messy platinum locks. As you yawned, you felt the comforting shift of Mingi’s arm around your waist, drawing you in closer as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. A soft giggle escaped your lips, feeling tickled as his breath brushed against your bare skin, memories flooded in of all that unfolded the night before. Clothes discarded around the room, his strong grip holding you firmly against the wall, his gentle touch igniting waves of unimaginable pleasure as you both came undone together. Wrapped in each other's warm embrace, eventually drifting into blissful sleep.

“Morning, Love,” He smiled softly against your skin, his voice coarse and warm with the lingering embrace of sleep. He started placing soft, lazy kisses along your neck, and you let out a content sigh.

“M’good morning, Min,” You moved your hand so that you could play with his hair. It still felt soft despite all the times it had been bleached. He hummed happily and you wished that you could stay just like that all day, lost in each other’s presence, but there was so much that had to be done. Begrudgingly you said, “We should get up. There’s a music video that needs filming…”

With his morning voice still present he groaned, “No, let’s just stay here. They can get it done without us.”

You airily laughed at his pathetic, and cute, attempt to convince you, “I wish, but alas it’s quite unfortunate that it can’t be done without us.”

He moved above you, propping himself up with his arms, a sinful look in his eyes, “What if I tried persuading you in a different way,” He slid his knee so that it was in between your legs, slowly moving it up, and pressing lightly against you.

“Mmmmm, tempting,” You breathed out, trying your best to prevent yourself from letting him rile you up, “but I would rather not risk getting scolded by Hongjoong.”

He sighed, a smirk on his face as he flopped back down on the bed, “Okayyy… you’re right.”

“There’s always later tonight, though, if you’re still feeling persuasive,” You grinned, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before you hopped up.

He called out to you before you went into the bathroom, “Count on it, Love.”

—End of Spring/Move Out Day—

The year had flown by and your time at the house had come to an end. You cherished every moment spent there, but a thrilling sense of excitement grew within you for the new chapter awaiting in your new place—conveniently just a few minutes away within walking distance, just as Mingi had always hoped. You looked at your empty room in the house one last time, a bittersweet ache settling in as you closed the door behind you. All of the guys awaited you in the living room, ready to help you get settled into your new apartment. As you looked at each of them, you were reminded of all of the great memories you spent with them over the year, and tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes. Half of them had already been crying, and the other half seemed on the verge of starting as they pulled you into a warm group hug. As they let you go, Hongjoong spoke, “I guess this means I can finally stop pretending like I don’t know you and Mingi are dating, huh?”

He enjoyed the look of surprise on everyone’s faces; no one knew that he knew, not even Seonghwa who felt betrayed, “How long have you known?”

“I guess I always knew it would happen eventually, ever since her very first day here. I would be quite disappointing as a Captain if I couldn't sense the feelings of my team members,” He explained, “Plus I saw them canoodling on the playground last summer. Way to be subtle guys…”

“Ope! He’s known since day one,” Yeosang cracked up, covering his mouth.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked, confused.

“The primary reason behind the rule was to prevent conflict. I knew that if I had spoken up and kept you two apart, it would have created even more problems than simply allowing you to be together. Deep down, I couldn’t help but secretly wish that you both would finally start dating, the tension had become almost too much to bear,” He reasoned, then smiling sweetly he admitted, “I’m rooting for you both, genuinely.”

You heard the soft sound of sniffling and turned to see Mingi in tears, his arms outstretched, longing to hug Hongjoong, “Captain… I love you, you really are the best.”

“Yeah, yeah… I love you too— “ He dodged the embrace, redirecting the topic back to you, “Let’s get you moved into the new place shall we, Yn?”

—Epilogue—

Life started to feel like each day was unfolding in a beloved book or favorite movie. You were offered a permanent position at KQ, which you eagerly accepted, thrilled at the thought of seeing the guys every day. You found genuine delight in going to work; albeit it was a strange feeling for you to actually be excited about your job for once, but nevertheless you had no reason at all to complain. Eventually, you got the chance to visit Hinata on a trip to Japan, and when you introduced her to your boyfriend she damn near passed out. She was absolutely ecstatic for you, insisting that you had to make her your maid of honor since she was the one who encouraged you to do the raffle in the first place. You couldn’t help but shake your head and laugh, reassuring her that there was truly no one else you would rather have in that special role when the day came. Mingi joked with her, “I haven’t even proposed yet and she’s already assigning her maid of honor…”

Jokes aside though, he couldn’t wait for that day to come, already dreaming up the perfect way to do it; And he always seized every opportunity to tell you that you were the love of his life and he couldn’t wait to spend forever by your side. You were his everything— and Mingi was yours.

“I love you.”

“Forever and always.”

Masterlist

#... oh my god they were roomates #ateez #fanfic blog #fanfic #kpop #ateez x reader #atiny #kpop writers #18+ mdni #mingi x reader #mingi #song mingi #ateez mingi #first fanfic #mingi fluff #ateez soft hours #ateez soft thoughts

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severeturttism · 1 month ago

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[SFW] rottmnt! raphael, leonardo, donatello, michelangelo | who fell first vs who fell harder & romance troupes

raphael "raph" hamato you fell first but he fell harder - the friends to lovers slowburn.

you guys had known each other for years and were close since you were in the awkward croaky teen stages; and it's a slow burn of sorts - you realise you love him really early on (because, really, who couldn't love this sweetheart?), but it takes our wonderful raph a lot longer to catch onto his own adoration for you. with the constant pressure mounting upon him, i truly feel that he only recognises how much he's loved you after leo gets dubbed as the new leader of the 'mad dogz'. now you're his and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

leonardo "leo" hamato you fell first but he fell harder - fake relationship turned mutual crushing, sprinkled with some good ol' fashioned angsty 2nd act.

being friends for many years, when leo asked you to play into this "fake relationship" in order to prove to his brothers that he was, in fact, the better hamato, you agreed readily. why not? he's your friend and you'd love to help him- oh shit, you love him. the realisation is sudden and frightening, any any attempt you make to have your feelings known is shut down (unintentionally or otherwise) by leo. you give up and go no-contact to let the feelings simmer away. leo realises how much he misses you, realises he's in love with you, and hunts you down so he can apologise and profess his love for you (bonus points for the way he presses his forehead to yours afterwards). happily ever after~

donatello "donnie" hamato you fall at the same time, and you might as well crash with how hard you both fall - similarities attract, your romance is not conventional or societally normal, but that's what makes it yours.

you were both menaces together, whether it be through the everyday lab explosion or borderline biological warfare in a vial. you never spoke of your relationship, but you both know when the shift occurred. when wearing his battle-shell in your presence turned into taking it off when you were around. when standing an inch apart turned into you draping yourself over his shell as he worked. when writing reports at opposite ends of the desk turned into him sitting on your lap, tapping away on his tablet behind your head as you typed away on your laptop. love was a convenient word, you both decided - what you had was so much better.

michelangelo "mikey" hamato he fell first but you fell harder - sunshine/storm-cloud dynamic where sunshine helps storm-cloud see life through their eyes, tooth-rotting fluff ensues.

also plays into love at first sight and unresolved trauma troupes. he loved you when he met you, because he could see through that grouchy outer-layer you projected. every disgruntled frown was another reason to make you smile, and every disappointed huff was another reason to make you laugh. he learns quickly you've got things to work through, and he's ever so patient with confronting those big feelings, but he'll show you how good the world can be in the meantime - and good it is, with him, you realise. slowly, you find yourself seeking him out more often... god, you fell so hard you might as well run into a brick wall. he's there through the tough, and you'll be there through the tough for him too.

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mujeans · 2 months ago

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MY ONLY LOVE, MY ONLY ONE ✦ LCY

SYNOPSIS ✦ you and anton’s relationship through the years - because maybe not all love has to be young.

“if we’re both still single by the time we’re thirty , let’s get married.”

TAGS ✦ anton x f!reader, one-shot, angst, fluff, non-idol au, yn has mommy issues, slice of life, bffs to lovers, slow-burn

WARNINGS ✦ mentions of drinking at a bar, reader isn't really referred to as y/n or _, just "you" 😭

WC ✦ 4k

PLAYLIST ✦ only by leehi, still into you by paramore, every summertime by niki, toothbrush by dnce, bad by wavetoearth

AUTHOR'S CORNER ✦ was originally meant for heeseung, but i changed it lolz also ik i said i'd post it in a few days but i finished it early and wanted to put it out so i hope u enjoy!

snobby, proud, self-centered - these were the words that described anton's first impression of you.

he'd just moved to town, tagging along with his parents to the local mall when his mother stopped in her tracks, causing him to nearly walk into her. he looked at her confusedly when she suddenly gasped, and squealed someone's name, before she practically ran up to another woman, who he'd soon find out to be your own mother.

"guys, this is my old friend from college," she'd told him and his dad. "and this is her daughter," she said as she gestured to you.

you'd been few inches taller than him, so he was intimidated by you and immediately got the impression you were looking down on him. (well, you were, literally.)

"why don't you two kids go to the arcade? here, my daughter has a game card," your mother spoke as she ushered you two away whilst the adults went somewhere else to catch up. anton and you awkwardly stood next to each other as the parents left you two alone.

once they were out of sight, you seemed to deflate; the intimidating aura wiped and replaced by a more relaxed and amicable ‘you’. somehow, you felt more human, and he let out his own steady breath when you smiled and held out your hand for him to shake.

“sorry, my mother can be a lot to handle. you play DDR?”

turns out, you were way more fun when your mother wasn’t around.

holding hands was something you two did often.

your friends would often tease you two about it, but neither you nor anton thought much of it. it was completely platonic, right?

but nonetheless, you two were relentlessly asked if you were dating, even when one or the other was in a relationship with someone else. in fact, your closeness had led to your first and most recent boyfriend breaking up with you.

"can you believe it? everyone knows we're literally just friends," you ranted to anton later that night. "so what if we're close? he himself had his own girl best friend - several in fact!"

anton hummed to let you know he was listening, busy working on an assignment that he'd spent far too long procrastinating.

"i mean, how insecure can he be? is it really that unbelievable for a boy and a girl to have a completely platonic relationship?" you paced around his room, not caring whether or not he was listening. you just needed to get the day's frustrations out - and where better than anton's comfy and personalised room?

something about the hanging leaves, band posters, the warm lamp in the corner lighting up the room, it was your favourite place to hide when your mother would be in another one of her moods.

"i'm never going to date again. ugh."

"you sure about that?" anton half-heartedly asked.

"yes. if i have to sacrifice our friendship to kiss some guy, then no thanks."

anton turned to you with a smile playing at his lips. he didn't take you seriously at all.

"anton..." you whined. this wasn't funny to you.

"sorry, sorry," he said, but you could still hear the laugh in his voice. instead, he took your hands in his apologetically, the warmth a familiar gesture.

"if you never date again, then i won't either."

"anton, you've never dated."

"well, it's like you said. if i have to sacrifice our friendship to kiss some girl, then it's a no for me too."

he stared at you sincerely. you guys knew you both would probably still go on to date other people, but the promise felt real anyway. what with the way he was staring up at you.

"swearing yourself to celibacy for me? how sweet," you relented, sitting down on his bed, your hands still clasped in his.

suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

using your linked hands to pull him closer, his chair rolled over, knocking against your knees.

"anton, let's make a pact: if we're still both single by the time we're thirty, then let's get married."

graduation came faster than anton expected, and he only realises then that he's known you for five years now.

as expected, you and him had taken lots of photos together (wait, when did he get taller than you?), and eventually your families decided to dine together at some fancy restaurant after the ceremony. it a celebration of the two of you leaving high school, and moving onto the next chapter of your lives: university. something you were particularly stressed about.

"why is applying for uni so hard?? i'm just a girl - just accept me!"

anton could empathise with that sentiment - he'd been an exceptional student, yet his lack of curriculars had ended him up on three waitlists, and with one rejection. not to mention how complicated the process was, what with all the different requirements for every university. honestly, he felt like he'd been lied to by all those people telling him not to worry.

looking over at the parents busy in conversation, he noticed that the both of you had finished your meals already.

"can we go? i'm gonna take her out for a drive," he asked them, gesturing to you.

surprised by the sudden plan, you looked to your parents for approval.

"aren't you going to stay for desserts?" your dad asked.

"i'm sure we'll find something sweet on the way," anton replied simply.

"well, i'm okay with it," your dad agreed, looking at anton's parents who nodded back.

you watched him turn to your mother, a silent argument spoken through their eyes. she reluctantly sighs, a sign of surrender, and you cheered on the inside as anton pulled you away and out of the restaurant.

going for drives was something you and anton always did when either was stressed or upset. windows down and music blared as the sky turned an array of colours, it really felt like the movies in moments like this. you sighed contentedly, head propped up on your elbow as you stared outside. the wind combined with ONLY by LeeHi being the only sounds between you and anton.

"ah, i'm not sure if i can do this whole university thing," you confessed your thoughts. "if applying is already this hard, i can't imagine the real thing."

"it won't be this bad. c'mon, we'll be together, right?" anton's voice replied.

"always."

silence engulfed the two of you again.

"i want to do something crazy. something that'll make her mad."

"yeah? any ideas for this crazy plan of yours?"

"hmm... what about..." you trailed off, thinking for a while.

"what about a month-long trip around europe?"

anton's head snapped to you, eyebrows reaching his hairline.

"seriously? she'll actually lose it."

"not that she already hasn't already done so several times before," you grumbled into your elbow. "besides, i'm always sticking to her stupid rules. i just want to do something 'rebellious' before we get thrown back into classes and assignments and homeworks and blah blah blah..."

a pause. then, “let's do it. where do you want to start?"

"really? you'll do it with me?" you perk up, finally looking at him.

"duh," he rolls his eyes, as if you ever leaving him alone was such an unimaginable thought. "let's figure out those visas first though," he added as an afterthought.

2 Notifications yn : you free later this week? yn : feels like i haven't seen u in forever

anton sees the notifications later that night, and sighs as he pushes his hair out of his eyes. he takes a quick look at his monthly calendar.

to be truthful, the two of you had been swamped with finals and work this past semester, so you hadn’t been able to hang out as often as you used to.

seeing that the next part of his coursework wasn't due until next saturday, he decided he had just enough time.

anton: what about tmrw? 12pm at café bleu

"i was thinking..." you started. "what if we do another month-long trip this summer? like we did last year.”

anton grunted at the thought.

"honestly, i've stayed up countless nights this sem for this stupid assignment. i wanted to catch up on sleep thus summer.” i don't think i really have the time for another trip.

"oh. that's okay! we're both going back home anyway, so i'll just come over to yours like always."

"sure, if you want to watch me sleep all day."

but the way he said that - it was a clear no. he didn't have the time, not when he was going to spend all summer trying to catch up on missed sleep.

"never mind, then."

the waitress placed your orders in front of you, and the two of you began to eat in terse silence.

looking at him closely, you notice the darkened eyebags, the pale skin, the way he hadn't even bothered to wear a nice outfit. anton had been pretty cold towards you lately, and he felt guilty, but he couldn't help it. stress was a bully everyone was a victim of.

seeing the way your demeanour seemed to shrink, he was hit with a wave of shame and regret, and took hold of your hand.

"hey, remember that show we watched in senior year? it has a prequel movie coming out soon. we should watch it together."

you perked up immediately. "really? when?"

"november, i think."

he frowned when you faltered, but then you said something that completely sent his heart to the ground.

"i can’t. anton, i'm going on a study exchange programme."

talking to jake was easy. talking to him was nice.

in the three months since jake arrived from australia, anton and him had quickly become good friends, (although he would never be able to replace you). so of course he's sad that the exchange programme was coming to an end soon, and jake would have to leave for home.

however, that meant you'd be coming back too, and he was far more excited about that. the past three months had felt empty without you, even if you were a bit absent from his life for some time before the programme started.

so anton finds himself at café bleu in the same spot you'd told him about your plans, but this time with jake on the other side.

"we'll stay in touch though, yeah?" jake assured him. "i'll definitely come visit some time, this place is really great."

"i'll be looking forward to it."

"i think you're more looking forward to me leaving though, aye? what with your friend coming back too."

at the mention of you, anton couldn't stop the smile from spreading on his face. he really did miss you.

"yeah, she's my rock. always there for me - well, except for these past three months. hopefully you'll get to meet her when you visit."

"i'd love to meet the girl you've been talking about this whole time!"

"you'd get along well," anton nodded, imagining the three of you sharing a slice of cake at this very café. "hey, why don't i call her right now, and you can meet her? although it's just online."

jake nodded eagerly, "why not?"

pulling up his phone, anton quickly swiped to the favourites tab on his contacts app, and called you. after just two rings, you pick up.

"hey! what's up?" your voice greets him, bringing an instant smile to his face.

"nothing much, just wanted to introduce you to jake - he's the student who came in your place as part of the exchange programme," he introduced the guy, turning on his camera.

"oh, hi!" he hears you say after he turns the screen to face the other.

"hi! nice to finally meet you. hope australia treated you well,” jake starts smoothly.

"trust me, it has. everyone so nice and welcoming, i just love it here."

"sounds like you've settled in nicely, i'm almost sorry you'll have to pack up and leave again. but hey, you'll be back home and reunited with this guy, right?" jake laughed.

"well... about that."

anton knew something was up - your voice had that same tone as when you dropped the bomb that was you leaving for the next three months. just before you said your next line, anton felt his heart sink again like it did the first time.

"i've decided to transfer here.

"anton, i'm staying in australia."

once again, anton finds himself in a graduation gown. but for the first time, you're not at his side.

looking at the photos his mother took of him on her phone, he couldn't help but feel a little upset by the lack of you next to him. for the past nine years, he's never had much solo photos; you were always with him, sharing these moments.

but this time 'round, he's completely alone, and your friendship has devolved to instagram mutuals, reduced to liking each other's posts and reacting to stories. the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

surprisingly, your mother still came to watch him graduate, even if he was only ever just her friend's son.

"oh, anton. you've grown so much since i first met you."

"thank you, auntie," he says awkwardly.

"you know, i miss the two of you. my daughter's all the way in another country, so i barely see you anymore..." she trails off in thought. in the past few years since you left, she seemed to soften up in your absence, no doubt missing you despite the strained relationship between the two of you when you left.

"oh! have you seen the photos? she just graduated herself last week," she fished for her phone in her bag, and began to swipe through her camera roll to show him.

"i wish i could've been there, but i'm not sure she would've wanted that. she's lucky her dad attended instead."

anton shakes his head. "not true, i'm sure she would've wanted you there."

but he wasn’t sure. have your feelings about your mother changed? or were you still upset with her? he doesn’t know. he hasn’t known much about you in a long time.

"i guess we'll never know, will we?"

swiping through more photos, anton's eye caught onto a few of them, where you were standing particularly close to another guy.

"auntie, who's this?"

"ah, him? why, that's her boyfriend, of course." she then turned to look at him oddly. "hasn't she told you?"

he frowned, and shook his head. he's a little off put by the fact that you didn't bother telling him, but then again. you two haven't exactly been friends in a very long time.

and just like that, memories of a pact resurface in his head. it was never going to come true, wasn't it? but if you ended up marrying this guy, anton could never bring himself to watch.

the sound of his friends' voices brought him back to reality. "hey, anton! come over here-" and he forced himself to shake off the thoughts, joining the group instead.

anton had been learning to live life without you for the past four or five years now. he had a new friend group, a nice job in the city, his own apartment, all without his best friend. it was hard to unlearn all the mannerisms he didn't even realise he had for you, not until he would get home from the grocery and realise he bought two boxes of sushi like you used to share, or when he'd almost bought a second, folding mattress for when you'd come over for a sleepover, or even just holding an extra hair tie or two on his wrist in case you needed one.

and that was all in the past now, he's finally began to move on from mourning the loss of your friendship. he only thinks about you once in a blue moon, and his life feels like it's no longer on pause.

but you were always cruel to him.

"wait, what?"

right when he'd begun to move on, you came back.

anton stared at you in shock; when he heard the doorbell ring that day, he'd never have expected you to be on the other side. an intelligent 'wait, what?' was all he could muster when he finally registered just what, or who he was seeing.

"hi," you say in that familiar voice of yours. and you almost sound out of breath, although its clear you hadn't run there.

he finally lets you in after a moment, and you explain how you're moving back, and starting at a local company. you tell him about life back in australia, the friends and experiences you made. you tell him about the past five years of your life as if it was just any normal day after high school.

as if you hadn't just completely left him on his own, his other half gone with you.

although the conversation is stilted and awkward, and theres a gap between you that feels wider than the distance between australia and home, anton's still glad to see you. it almost feels unreal, and he wouldn't believe any of this was real if he couldn't feel your weight pushing down on the sofa, or the very essence of you in his living room.

you and anton agree to get coffee some time after you've settled back in, and he asks if you need any help.

"yes, please! its like i brought my whole life from australia back with me, what with all the boxes i need to unpack."

and so, leaning against the door frame, anton watches you walk away again, catching himself wondering if it would be the last time he'd see you again in a while. he had to keep reminding himself that you were back for good.

"oh, and me and my boyfriend broke up."

anton sucks in a breath, and slips his hands in his pocket to hide the shaking. he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel - angry? relieved? sorry? anton hasn't known how to feel in years.

"just wanted you to know," you spoke into the air, after you received no response from him.

so with an awkward wave, you leave him once again, with a promise to see each other soon.

"happy birthday!" people greet as they enter the bar, giving anton a quick hug.

"thank you," he smiles back. "wow, twenty-seven. i feel so old."

"twenty-seven isn't that old," you tell him, hugging him from behind as a surprise. he chuckles and holds onto your arms clasped around his middle for a bit before letting you go sit across him.

"think about it, we've been friends for longer than we haven't!"

"including those four or five years we barely spoke?" you raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip from your glass.

"shh, what years? we've always been as thick as thieves," anton grins, pinching your cheek.

after you moved back, it didn't take that long to rekindle your previous relationship. somehow, you two picked up right where you left off, like there was never a period in your friendship filled with almost radio silence.

"you two," eunseok sighed with an exasperated but fond tone. "if i didn't know you guys were 'just friends', i would've thought you were dating."

"or married!" sohee shouts from somewhere.

you roll your eyes at your friends and coworkers, the guests. dating allegation were nothing new in your relationship, having suffered from them for over ten years now.

"we have been friends for a while now, huh? fourteen years is pretty crazy."

"i honestly can't remember a time when i didn't know you," anton agrees.

"being 'friends' for longer than you haven't is quite the achievement," wonbin remarks with a knowing look. "personally, i don't have toothbrushes and extra clothes at my house for my friends though."

all this talk of friends and friendship was making your head hurt.

"anton, remember the pact we made at sixteen?"

anton looked at you sharply, knowing exactly what you were referring to, but asking anyway. "no. remind me again?"

with a scoff and a smile, you said, without regard to the fact that everyone was half-listening, "when we promised we'd marry each other by thirty if we were both still single?"

clinks of glass and utensils falling around the two of you, your friends were suddenly more invested in the conversation, not even trying to hide their curiosity.

"you really want to talk about this right now? in front of everyone?" anton murmured, voice low enough just for you to hear.

you stared at him, and then continued.

"well, looks like there's three years left to our promise. three years left to run away from me." that pulled out some laughs.

anton just stared at you with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

"well, i haven't run away for these last eleven years since, have i?"

whoops and cheers filled the bar; you yourself were surprised with anton's boldness and honesty. you always did wonder why he barely ever dated, only ever having a few flings here and there.

suddenly, you felt a little flustered by his bold declaration, and the implication that he'll wait out the remaining years.

"i..."

suddenly, anton's face morphed into a smirk as he took another sip from his own glass, eyes still on you.

"what's another three years?"

"ah, my mom keeps asking when i'm going to settle down," you whine to anton, sitting in his living room as you two share a late midnight snack.

something about it all feels nostalgic, whining and complaining about your mom to him, sitting in his comfy room (or this time, his apartment), with a vinyl record playing in the background. this is home, you decided.

what you don't tell him is that your mom had been more specific with her words.

(when are you and anton going to get married and settle down?? i want grandkids, you know!)

anton laughs lightly, feeding you another sushi. the whole atmosphere was quite domestic, and you wished you could spend the rest of your life like this; with him.

"some things never change, do they?" he remarks with a fond smile. and your heart melts a little.

(hopefully soon, mama.)

"isn't sushi a little heavy for a midnight snack?"

"well, it's not just any midnight, isn't it?" anton asks.

and he's right. it's actually a special one - the night before your birthday.

looking at the clock, you see that it's almost twelve, and you find yourself thinking back on the past twenty-nine years. anton's in most of the memories, something you weren't particularly bothered about. when you two spent that day at the arcade together, something about it all just felt right.

you've always loved change, always wanted more experiences. but one thing you wanted to stay the same forever, was anton being by your side. when you'd gone to australia, it was a slow realisation that some part of you was missing. only when you reunited with anton did you realise why that was.

the soft beeping noise of a clock brought you back from your thoughts, signalling that it was finally twelve o'clock. that you were finally thirty. hearing shuffling behind you, you turn to look at anton for the annual hug and cheer that made your whole birthday.

but instead, you watched in shock as anton sunk onto one knee, and pulled out a box.

"don't look so surprised, now," he chuckles awkwardly. "this was a long time coming."

"i know... i just. i didn't expect you'd do it as soon as i turned thirty," you laughed. "looks like someone couldn't wait any longer."

"can you blame a man who waited fourteen years?"

you shook your head before anton called our your name, even though he already had your full attention.

"my only love, i don't have to hide my feelings anymore. i love you."

with a deep breath, filled with years and years of longing, he finally asked.

"will you marry me?"

TAGLIST ✦ @yoursyuno @totheseok

#MUJEANS ✦ FICS #riize #anton riize #anton x reader #lee chanyoung #chanyoung x reader #anton fluff #anton scenarios #anton imagines #riize fics #anton fics #riize x reader #lee chanyoung x reader #riize anton x reader #anton one shot

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joelmama · 2 years ago

Text

The Fisherman's Wife | Oneshot

no-outbreak!AU, no-Ellie!AU (😞), (basically it's pretty much devoid of anything canon, I'm sorry 😭 I just was desperate to see Joel as a fisherman.)(also don't ask what time-period this is set in i have no clue)

pairing: fisherman!Joel, soft!Joel x afab!fem!Reader content: arranged marriage, angst, fluff, smut. summary: The free-spirited Reader is arranged to marry a divorced Fisherman named Joel Miller. And although she protested this at first, she soon wonders if maybe she could be happy with her new husband. word count: 28.2k (yeesh) warnings: NSFW 18+ - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. mentions of death, age-gap (reader is 27, Joel is 48), smut - oral (f receiving and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, reader is inexperienced (meaning loss of virginity), lovesick Joel, and not beta'd! (if i left anything out please let me know :))

(oh and an obscene use of Y/N bc i write in third person 😩)

Ao3 Link

A/N: Hiii~!!! so usually I write fics for a completely different realm of content. but I haven't been able to continue my most recent fic bc this idea has been stuck in my mind for fricken weeks!!! and it wouldn't get out of my head until i actually wrote it down. TLOU has just been on my brain constantly these days i guess 🙄 (🥰). anyways i thought i'd write it, post it here, and then disappear back into my usual corner of the internet, never to be seen again 😈. i hope you enjoy my story!! ILY <3

Far out from the rainy coast of the Pacific Northwest, sat a small island, always caught in the throes of an aimless sea. It was called the Isle of Ardor. Named after the burning passion of love. It was a peculiar name for the island, as it was always embedded within dark, curling swirls of stormy rain clouds; As well as the sour emotions that came with the storm— provided, of course, by the residents of this Isle. So the island was often left without the feeling of love. Neglected, for lack of any other words. Far from the symbol of love that was known by the world.

Sure, there was the love that was bestowed by marriage, when a man first sets his sight on his arranged lover dressed in white. Or even love passed between a parent and a child, when a mother first hears the first laugh that tumbles out of her sweet childs lips. Or the fumbling platonic love that creates itself in whispered secrets during sleepovers between friends. But none of it was burning. None of it was passionate. It was a simple form of love. A perfect representation of the simple life that was often led on the Isle of Ardor. Despite its exciting name.

A more fitting name would perhaps be something more simple. Unembellished. Basic. Ordinary. Sturdy. Something to match the uniform march of the adults in this town, as they traveled along the cobblestone roads in early morning light. Headed towards their humdrum jobs that kept the economy of this island churning like a slow cog in the machine. Meanwhile, the children were taught about this monotonous life in school. Sat rigid in their seats, the stiff collar of their uniform scratching at their necks. Forced to listen, forced to learn that there was only one path for them to take. All signs pointed, roads led and everything suggested that these children— Just as their parents, and their grandparents— were destined for a life of simplicity.

It was the exact opposite of what Y/N wanted. She abhorred the idea of simple. She wanted excitement. Yearned for passion. Craved the burn of love that left scars on your heart and bruises on your lips.

Her wants and desperate needs were proven in the way she grew up. There wasn’t a day that went by where she wouldn’t step out of line. Her wrists would be sore from the snap of her teacher's ruler. Her ears would grow tired of the constant reprimand from her father. And her knees would bleed freely from the times she would escape the horrid monotony of life, out into the nature beyond. But the island was small, and her feet could only take her so far, so she would always easily be caught. She would return home with her sore wrists, tired ears and bloody knees, and sit by her bedroom window, hoping for something greater to take her away.

It never came.

Eventually, she grew older. She matured, and she learned how to stay in line. For the most part. But as she aged, her tongue grew sharper with wit, and she soon often got in trouble for using words that could rival a sailor’s. By the time she was of marriageable age, no one on the island wanted anything to do with her. This all of course was to the dismay of her father. Who at this point thought that he would never be rid of his rambunctious daughter.

He loved her with all of his beating heart, of course. But on the Isle of Ardor, all fathers wanted the same thing for their daughters. By the age of eighteen, they wanted their girls to find a satisfactory suitor to take care of them so that the fathers didn't have to worry as they faded into their old age.

By now, all of Y/N’s classmates were already married. While at the age of twenty-seven due to her wild nature, no one had brought any offers to their household for her hand in marriage. Her father grew weaker and weaker as worry settled into his bones.

Y/N on the other hand was ecstatic by her lack of prospects. Being a spinster meant she didn’t have to worry about some silly husband, wife or partner she didn’t truly care about. If people thought she was crazy? So be it. It was all worth it for the price of her freedom.

And now as she had no other burden brought on by school or a job, she would oftentimes be found by the raging ocean. Her toes deep in the blackened sand, skin salted by the sea and her hair tangled by the mischievous winds. And this is exactly where she was the minute she found out about the news that would tear her world apart.

Her father had found her a suitor.

The news was brought to her by the young messenger boy who would carry the most recent word of mouth with him on his rusty bicycle. Her father had flagged him down, offering a bill or two to find his daughter and bring her home immediately to meet the man she was destined to marry.

The poor boy. He didn’t deserve to be met with the rage of a mad woman, but that was what he stumbled across when the news of her arranged marriage escaped from between his lips. At the sight, he suddenly understood why she was considered the town spinster. She was angered and chaotic, screaming into the wind when his words finally registered. She looked like a feral animal, the way she gnashed her teeth, yelling about the unfairness of it all.

Him being no older than ten years old, couldn’t really understand why she was so upset about this news. She mumbled a few things— Something about her loss of freedom and self expression. But it was all very strange. He was used to the usual reaction from young women whenever they heard the news of their engagement. They were always… ecstatic. Squealing like pigs as they clutched onto their nearest friend, family member or even just a stranger. Or if they were unhappy with the prospect of marriage— just as Y/N was now— they were always able to hold their tongue until they were alone.

Her reaction was all just very… strange. Very different.

And different, it was. She now sat, stewing in her anger, refusing to even spare a glance towards her future husband.

A celebratory dinner, made carefully and happily by her aunt, sat on the wooden table stretched between them. It was all the distance she needed to ignore the man she was meant to be betrothed to. But even though she could avert her gaze, there was no getting past listening in on the conversation that flitted between this man and her family members.

She had learned that he lived on the other side of the island. So now it made sense that she didn’t recognize his surname when the messenger boy first told it to her. She barely got to know the names of her neighbors, let alone those on the windward side.

He was known as Joel Miller, only learning his first name when her father greeted him at the beginning of the evening, with a sturdy handshake at their front door, the casual name falling from his tongue as they exchanged niceties. As she stood behind her father’s shoulder, she refused to look at him even then, her eyes steady on the toes of her boots.

Now at the table, the topic of his occupation also arose during the conversation. He spoke of his adventures out at sea, and what he encountered in his life as a fisherman.

Typical. A fisherman. The most sought out job on this island as they were mainly considered as gods since they provided the island with prosperous amounts of food and good fortune. The people that held the title of ‘fishermen’ were always the most sought after when it came to marriage. Y/N wondered how her father was able to find a man like that for her.

But as the dinner went on, the secret was soon revealed. Because she soon learned that his wife had left him. Many years ago, late in the night as a stowaway on a cargo ship headed towards the mainland. The only thing worse than a spinster was a man whose wife had left him. And now the puzzle pieces were fitting together.

They were a match made in heaven. The crazy woman and the unwanted man.

Y/N felt nothing but sympathy for his first wife. Surely, she was just the same as she. The only reason a woman would leave her partner was if she yearned for freedom beyond the tassels of marriage. Maybe eventually, Y/N would make the score two for two. Leave him behind just as his first wife did. The thought brought an overwhelming onslaught of anticipation that burned within the girl's core.

But she had to be patient. She couldn’t just leave him when all eyes were narrowed in on their engagement. The whispers on the street all revolved around her, and how she was finally able to snag a man after all these years. Even more speculation was offered when they found out who the man was. Apparently these two were a circus act around the Isle of Ardor. A horrific accident that none of the residents could tear their eyes from.

Maybe that’s why their wedding was so crowded.

A few weeks had past, and she had yet to grant the man with her gaze. All she knew of his looks was the quick glimpse of silver she saw scattered amongst the brown in his hair, and the hard set of his jawline, clenched in an anger that seemed to always be present. So as she walked down the aisle, her fingers clenched around a wilting bouquet of daisies, she kept her eyes pointed towards the horizon that lingered in the distance.

Traditional Ardorian weddings were always held in the same place. On the cliffside, hanging over the tempestuous sea that always danced near the shores of the Isle. The same clergyman, performed the same ceremony, spoke the same gentle words every single time. She has been to countless versions of this very same wedding throughout the duration of her life. Though, she never thought that it would be her who was forced to stand under the wedding arch. Especially in her late-mothers wedding gown, in front of the entirety of the small town that sat on the coast of Ardor.

The most surprising part of it all was when she exchanged her ‘I do’s’ effortlessly and without any complaint.

Maybe that was what also surprised most of the wedding-goers, as they began to whisper to one another. The crowd seemed disappointed, almost as if they expected a spectacle from the woman they deemed a recluse. From the rumors they’ve already heard through the grapevine, maybe they were expecting her to grow reckless with abandon. To stomp her feet and scream out to the gods. So when they were met with this quiet, timid version of the woman, who spoke her vows with no contradiction, they all stood and left the wedding. Completely missing out on the part when the man was told to kiss his bride. Which he didn’t even do.

A very strange wedding indeed.

It all came to a head when the man called Joel finally brought his new wife towards the threshold of their (used) marital home. It was a few hours after the ceremony, and usually this part of the evening was paired with bright, eager smiles as newly-weds were finally allowed to consummate their love. However, as we already know with this couple, the night went very differently than the norm that is usually presented.

As soon as he had unlocked the door for his established home, the woman stormed through the front entrance, her eyes darting around each corner as she took in each aspect of her new home. Trying to find something to dislike. But it was an agreeable home. Comfortable and cluttered with trinkets that must’ve meant a great deal to the man. It was… interesting. So after finding nothing she could truly complain about, and be the disastrous wife she planned to be, she whipped towards him in an unexpected flurry, her arms folding across her chest.

Her eyes finally landed on him for the very first time. And she stilled.

He was older. Much older. But she already knew that from the information she learned from her father. What she didn’t know was how good age looked on the man. He was handsome... And so much larger than she had thought. His shoulders were wide, emphasized as he stood in the doorway. His hands looked strong and calloused, obviously capable of working against the aggression brought forth by an unforgiving sea.

Then there were the features she had only caught glimpses of, but yet she was overly familiar with— due to the flashes of her memory that blared across the dark of her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep. His brown curls were unruly across his forehead, despite his attempt to manage them with gel, most likely trying to look put together for the wedding. They were painted with faint hues of gray, evidence of the twenty-some years he had against her.

Her eyes tugged towards his familiar jawline. Strong— just as she remembered. But it wasn’t clenched in anger, or anything else of the sorts. His features were molded in a form that looked to be like curiosity. Maybe this was the first real look he had of her as well…

That’s when she met the deep brown irises of his eyes. The sight of which was a drastic contrast of anything else she had known of him. They were almost… warm and forgiving, bordered by the faint outline of crows feet, formed over the years. His gaze was soft in the way he considered her features and dragged over the curves of her body. So different from the harsh lines of the rest of his body.

She held her arms tighter against her form. Feeling vulnerable under his stare.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting to happen…” Y/N finally spoke the first words she ever said to the man who was considered to be her husband, “But I can assure you that it’s not what you’re thinking.”

The man simply stared at her, his eyebrows raising at her words. She took a step back as he took a step inside, but felt foolish as he only did so to turn around and shut the front door behind him. The familiar sea breeze now lost to them.

When he turned back around, he spoke the first words he ever said to the woman who was considered to be his wife.

“I wasn’t expectin’ anything.” He replied, his sentence simple and his accent faded.

She had heard his voice before. When he was speaking to her father and reciting his vows. But now that it was directed towards her, it finally dawned on her how deep it was. How it rumbled through his chest in such a way that it settled deep within Y/N’s bones.

She was perturbed by the sensation. So much so that her next argument was lost on her tongue.

“Follow me.” He said, in the absence of her words.

Since there wasn’t much left to do, she did just that. The small house shifted under the weight of their footfalls as they ascended up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s eyes were trained on the sight of his broad back, taking up so much space as he ventured through the hallways of this two-story home.

Her eyes were soon torn away from his form as she took in the decor of the rest of his— their house. It matched what she saw downstairs. Everything was nautical themed, something common within the homes that littered this island. But the way this house was decorated was different. Instead of the manufactured ocean aesthetic that Y/N was used to, everything about this house was… natural. The way she felt in this house felt exactly how she felt on the beaches that ringed around this tiny island. She never thought she’d ever meet anyone who was able to capture the essence of the natural world so effortlessly. She began to soften, similar to what she felt when she saw that look in his brown eyes.

She squared her shoulders against the thought, forcing her resolve back to the forefront of her mind. This was the last place she wanted to be. She had to remind herself of that.

“This is your room.” Joel muttered in that deep voice of his, stopping at a door sat at the end of the hall. His large hand twisting the golden doorknob, it swung open as he pushed against the wood.

“My room?” Y/N questioned, as she stood on her tiptoes, staring into the confines that were now revealed from over Joel’s shoulder. She took in the sight of a wrought-iron bed, a vanity and a wardrobe built out of dark-stained wood. Furniture to call her own for the first time.

“Your’s.” He nodded in confirmation. And then he stepped aside, letting her venture further into the room. She breathed in the fresh air that was granted by the windows that still stood open against either wall, crickets calling through the crevices, seeping in from the dark of the night.

She ran a hand over the handmade quilt that covered the mattress, cool against her palm, unslept in for months— maybe years.

The floorboards squeaked under her feet as she turned quickly towards where Joel was standing. But the doorway was empty. Her words of gratitude fell flat against the air now that there was no one to direct them to.

He must’ve snuck off as she was admiring the room, assuming she wanted to be left alone. Which she did. But no one had ever respected her privacy before. She definitely wasn’t expecting the courtesy from the man she was forced to marry.

A weird feeling wormed its way into Y/N’s heart, one she had never felt before. She chose to ignore it as she plopped onto the mattress, springs squeaking under her weight, staring at the vacant space where Joel once stood.

Weeks passed by, and neither one of the newlyweds tried to make any contact with one another as they resided in their separate bedrooms.

Since Y/N was now destined to be a doting housewife, no one had any expectations for her beyond the household she currently lived in. And since Joel was avoiding her just as much as she was him, it was easy to dismiss his heavy footfalls that rang out against the house in the early hours of the morning. All she had to do was wait until they faded off the steps of the front porch, and then she was free to roam the house that was now half hers.

Though after her exploring was finished, most of her days were spent in the garden, overgrown from lack of maintenance, but Y/N happened to like it that way. She was elated to find it, as she stood on the precipice of the backyard that very first morning. And now Y/N could be found curled on the antiquated porch swing that sat among the weeds, a book cradled in her lap, stolen from the office she also discovered on her second day of living with her new husband.

However, as she relaxed in the garden, sun shining over every inch of her exposed skin, guilt would soon riddle her bones. It was another feeling she wasn’t used to. But now that she was married and now that she knew that Joel wasn’t the horrible intrusive husband she thought he would be, she decided he deserved to come home to a warm meal. So eventually— after a few of her days spent basking in the sun, the guilt becoming too much— she would one day venture to the market nearest their marital home and pick up ingredients to make the man some dinner after his long day at the docks.

She would never actually eat with him, of course— only leaving the homemade food in a ceramic pot stationed in the middle of the kitchen table. But she hoped her gesture proved enough that she wasn’t exactly angered by his newfound presence in her life.

Despite the fact that she still planned on her escape.

It was obvious that Joel wasn’t a bad husband. And of course, that brought pause to the woman. She wondered what exactly it was that drove his first wife to leave him when he wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought. But the mystery still couldn’t counter with the fact that Y/N was desperate for her freedom, and desperate for a love that would set her heart on fire. Surely she couldn’t find that sort of thing on this tiny insignificant island. She had to escape. Didn’t she?

The topic stayed constant on her mind as she perused the books in Joel’s tiny library (library being a generous term, it was actually just one shelf tucked in the corner of his office). One day, in the living room, she even stumbled upon a great big atlas that Joel had left behind, turned open on a page that showcased an image of the world. All the little squiggles and lines that made up the map of their great big earth, her soulmate must have resided within one of those faraway places. He couldn’t have been so close, on the tiny dot that represented the Isle of Ardor, it seemed impossible.

Now lost in thought about chances and percentages, the young woman paid no mind to the time that passed as she flipped through the large pages of the atlas. The sun was dipping low beneath the horizon, painting the skies with pinks, and oranges. She had yet to even make dinner when Joel had walked through the front door.

She stood quickly from her spot on the couch. As a habit, her tongue fumbled through the words that would leave her mouth whenever her father would return from work.

“Welcome home.”

Joel paused in the doorway. His brows furrowed in confusion since by this time the woman was usually found locked in her bedroom. And typically, when one welcomes you home, you’re supposed to reply with some form of gratitude, at least this was custom to the Isle of Ardor. But Joel was at a loss for words. To have his new wife, ready and expectant of him was unfamiliar. Especially since she had granted no interest in him for the past few weeks.

“I forgot to make dinner.” She told him, seemingly desperate to fill the silence. Her tone was soft with apprehension, she looked like a timid little rabbit. “I’m sorry.”

Taking in her words, and the sight of her— chest heaving as she stood by the couch, almost as if she were caught in the act of something despicable— Joel soon realized that this was all an accident. He wasn’t meant to find her like this. She had only gotten lost within whatever activity she was currently indulging herself in.

He caught sight of the atlas he left on the couch late last night. It was there since he was currently making plans for his upcoming fishing trip, but it was quickly forgotten once the threat of sleep had forced him to make his way back towards his bedroom. Was that what she was looking at? His lips parted with even more realization, if that was the case. He had a sneaking suspicion why she would be interested in a book like that. But he wasn’t about to ask her any incriminating questions.

“That’s alright.” He breathed, shutting the door behind him and foregoing any accusations he could potentially throw her way. “I can make something.”

“No, please.” She begged, as if guilt forced her back into the role of a doting wife. “You’ve had a long day. Allow me.”

She moved through the small living room of the house in long strides, headed towards the kitchen. She was determined to be the good wife she promised to be when she made her vows. Even if it was a lie at the time. Even if it still was as she planned for her escape.

As she brushed past Joel, her wrist was suddenly encased in a pool of unexpected warmth. His calloused fingers were wrapped firmly against her skin. In the month that they had been married, this was the first time he had ever touched her. Her heart lodged itself in her throat. Her gaze shifted so that she was staring wide-eyed up at her husband.

“Let me help you.” He murmured, his own eyes pleading her for something she was unsure of.

“Okay.” She whispered, nodding her head slightly, since there was nothing else she could do.

Now here they were, standing in their humble kitchen, stove hot and burning as they both stood over the swirling pot of spices, vegetables and fish. This form of intimacy was unfamiliar to them. It was the closest they’ve been in weeks, and it felt far more vulnerable than it did when they stood across the aisle as they spoke their vows. Joel’s hand was gripped harshly against the wooden spoon as he stirred the contents of their stew. Y/N’s fingers were latched onto the salt shaker, her eyes trained on the little grain of bitter crystal that was lodged in one of the holes.

“Here.” Joel practically whispered, holding up the spoon for his wife to taste. She glanced up at him through her lashes, hesitantly, before slowly leaning forward.

Her supple lips formed around the wood as she slurped at its contents. Joel shivered at the sight. He knew that his new wife was pretty, but seeing as she took his requests so willingly, was a sight to behold. Her lips seemed so plush, and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blew cold air across his offered taste, almost had him down on his knees. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed harshly against his dry throat, mind littered with filthy innuendos.

“How’s it taste?” He asked, his voice strained, forcing away the provocative thoughts that forged to the front of his mind.

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she held the flavor on her tongue. But soon a small grin flickered across her features. Joel’s stomach dipped at the sight. A feeling he hadn’t felt in years— maybe decades... maybe ever.

“It’s good.” She replied, wrapping her own smaller fingers around Joel’s hand as she brought the spoon up for a second taste. The touch of her hand was a shock, to say the least. It was only their second instance of skin contact and yet it was so much different than before. Only because it was her that was touching him. Willingly— no, purposefully. Embarrassingly enough, the surprise of it all was somehow too much for the older man. The spoon slipped from his grasp, clattering against the tile, splashing stew across the lower half of the surrounding cabinets, as well as the long hem of Y/N’s skirt. Joel took a large step back, the heat of shame licking up his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Sorry— I— Sorry.” He stammered, finishing his words somewhat lamely. He felt like a shy little school boy, he couldn’t even meet her gaze. It was humiliating.

That was until he heard the sound of her laughter. Soft and tinkling, with no hint of malice. She wasn’t laughing at him, she wasn’t even laughing with him. It was more like she was laughing at the entire situation, or maybe at nothing in particular. He finally braved a glance up at her, to see those supple lips curled into a bright smile. His heart lurched at the sight.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t acknowledge his fumbling apology, instead she shook her head slightly, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, a smile still apparent on her face as she got to her knees and began to clean up the mess. She didn’t even worry about the splotches of blooming red that was scattered across the white fabric of her pretty skirt. She let it stain. Lasting proof of the very first dinner they shared as man and wife.

He served it up in heaping spoonfuls. Steam lazily swirling up from the hot meal, confined in ceramic bowls that Joel had pulled from the cabinets. After Y/N’s laughter had faded from the air, the only sound that graced their ears was that of spoons scraping against the stoneware as they savored their last bites.

No words were spoken as they sat at the kitchen table. And the woman couldn’t decide if it was awkward or not. She was never one to be deterred by the presence of silence, but she was curious if the man who now sat across from her was.

Not that he was a man of many words. He was silent in the very way he lived. His actions were always careful and well thought out. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t heard of him before their betrothal. You don’t turn the cogs of the rumor mill if you keep to yourself. Which is what Joel seemed to do.

So maybe he liked the silence. Y/N decided she did as well.

Though it was finally broken when they stood at the kitchen sink, Joel was washing the dishes while Y/N dried— All serenaded by the sound of running water and clanking utensils. That was all it was until his words filtered in through the white noise.

“I’m leavin’ tomorrow.” He told her, eyes trained on the tiny soap bubbles attaching themselves to the skin of his hands. They were iridescent in their color. The distraction of it left the furrow between Y/N’s brows unknown. She wondered where on earth he could possibly be going. But the question was soon answered as he continued.

“It’s the first fishin’ trip of the season. Gonna be gone for a week or two.” He explained. Her mouth formed around a silent ‘ah’ as understanding dawned on her.

Fishing expeditions were always a big spectacle in this little town. Caught in glimpses on her way to school, Y/N always observed the teary-eyed farewells passed between the fishermen and their families. Hands up in the air in enthusiastic waves of goodbye as the ship drew further out to sea, becoming a small insignificant dot and then turning into nothing against the horizon.

She liked the return days far better. They always seemed much happier when loving arms wrapped around trembling shoulders, a warm embrace to signify how grateful the fishermen were to be brought home safe and unharmed. It was one of the few times this island lived up to its name.

And now the woman was left wondering if Joel expected her to become one of the teary-eyed family members waiting down by the docks.

“What time are you leaving?” She asked, carefully setting down the bowl that resided in her hands, it clinked against the wooden countertop.

“Early.” He replied, his large fingers hooking around the faucet lever, shutting off the constant stream of water. In its absence, the silence was louder and the same could be said of that deep voice of his. “Don’t worry. I’ll try not to wake you when I leave.”

So now the question was answered. He didn’t expect anything from her. Just like he said that very first night. It was still a foreign concept for her. She wasn’t sure if she truly believed it.

Though the belief finally found her when she woke up late the next morning, the sun deep in the sky, shining bright over her bed and warming her skin. She laid there for a minute, staring up at the ceiling as she considered the quiet state of the house. It was silent now more than ever. Left without the sound of Joel’s familiar footsteps as well as a final goodbye.

The time spent alone in the little house was surprisingly dreary.

At first— once the realization that she had the house to herself settled in, the woman was ecstatic. She had never been left to her own devices before. Usually she would have to cheat her way out of the ever-present company of her family, just for five minutes of precious solitude. Now she had hours of it— days of it. It was exhilarating. It was freeing. It was… lonely.

And maybe just a little bit scary, as she curled under her sheets at night, unable to explain away the creaks that filtered in from under her door now that Joel was gone.

Joel.

The absence of him presented Y/N with the unexpected discovery that he was a form of comfort that surrounded the walls of this house. Almost as if he were the protector of this hearth. And now that he was gone, the little noises she heard at night shifted into dark threatening creatures within the confines of Y/N’s overactive imagination.

She cursed herself for her sudden lack of backbone.

However, the daytime was somehow worse. Because at least during the night, her fear would soon subside once the calming tendrils of sleep coaxed Y/N back into her dreams. But during the day, when she was sitting on that squeaky porch swing, boredom would be the next thing to burden her. And there was nothing she could do to alleviate herself from it.

There were only so many books in Joel’s collection. Only so many rooms that were left to explore (excluding the master bedroom of course). And only so many activities that she could think to do to distract herself. So as she sat there aimlessly, swinging back and forth under a late afternoon sun, it dawned on her that she was most entertained when navigating this new delicate life that she shared with Joel.

Which eventually brought her to the greater realization that it wasn’t fear or boredom that caused the ache that burned low in her stomach. No, it was the fact of the matter that she had simply missed Joel. One might describe that ache as yearning. But Y/N would definitely not be the one to do so. So she ignored the feeling.

She ignored it until it was replaced with the growing buzz of anticipation when the day of Joel’s return finally arrived.

Excited whispers were passed from mouth to ear as everyone spoke about the ship's return. Y/N had caught a conversation while perusing the pitted-fruits at the market, relaying the information that the boat was set to dock later that evening. And as she quickly returned the contents that resided in her basket— replacing it with enough ingredients for a meal made for two rather than one— Y/N wondered if she was perhaps sharing in the excitement that took over the small island.

Which would be very odd, for she never once felt united with her fellow townspeople, and she could hardly believe that she was excited to see the man she was forced to marry. Though the oddest thing was, (and this was still unbeknownst to the young woman herself) was that she hadn’t thought of her underlying desire to escape, whatsoever. Not even once while she was left alone for the past two weeks, which by all means would have been the perfect time to plan her getaway. But the notion was completely lost to her mind as she hurriedly made her way back home so that she could start on dinner.

It was a sight to behold.

Later that evening, as Joel stood in the entranceway, limbs overtired from his harsh venture out to sea, he thought he was hallucinating. The last thing he expected when he walked through that door was to be met with the image of his wife, looking oh-so pretty in a light blue dress, waiting eagerly by a table full of food. The whole scene of it was washed in a golden light from candles set across the room. It was set to look like a dream. Was he dreaming?

He had thought their dinner the night before he left would be the last one. In fact, he had thought that would be the last time he'd ever see her.

Joel wasn’t an oblivious man. He knew how she felt about this whole arrangement. It was obvious in the way she would avoid looking at him when they had first met. And even if he couldn’t see the hatred she harbored for him within her irises, the woman wore her heart on her sleeve. He could see her indignation in the way she huffed around the house and stomped her way into the garden. Which was all made much more confusing when she started leaving him hot meals after his work was finished by the dock. He didn’t anticipate such a kind gesture from her.

She was a mystery. But he supposed she leaned more towards the side of completely hating his guts as she was still bent on avoiding him those first couple of weeks into their marriage.

Not that he could blame the woman. He only said yes to her father’s proposition because the man looked so desperate. He was practically down on his knees. And Joel couldn’t say he wasn’t enticed by the idea of not having to return to an empty home any longer.

But Joel wasn’t attached to the idea of their marriage.

So if she wanted to avoid him, he would grant her the space she needed. If she wanted to huff at him in anger whenever their paths did cross, he would take the onslaught. And if she wanted to escape into the night, never to be heard from again, who was he to try and stop her?

In the meantime, he would enjoy the meals she left for him.

Then came the night when she decided to share it with him. Sure, it was an accident. And the entire encounter was fumbling and awkward. But it sparked a small bout of warmth deep within his chest.

He supposed that feeling was hope. Or at least that was the conclusion he came to as he was rocked to sleep by the ebbing waves underneath his ship. He had felt hope before, it’s been a long time, but he knew what it was. That’s all it could ever be. But what was he hoping for?

Hope that this could be something more than a marriage certificate? Hope that she would stick around, at least for a few more weeks? Hope that he would see her face amongst the crowd as their ship pulled back into the dock?

When he didn’t see her, the warmth was lost to him. And in its absence that’s when he knew that’s exactly what it was. Without that flame of hope, he was now shrouded in darkness just like he knew his house would be when he returned under the setting sun.

So he was not expecting this. Not at all.

“You’re here.” He said, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. A little line appeared between her two brows as confusion riddled her features.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, head tilting with the question.

“I don’t know. I just… thought that maybe you’d be gone.” He replied, shaking his own head slightly as he admitted his suspicion out loud.

Busted.

Y/N’s shoulders tensed as the words hung in the air between them. She should have known that he’d catch on to her plans, she wasn’t usually the type to be subtle with her grievances. But there was a twinge in her stomach at his admittance. The one thing he expected of her was exactly the one thing she wanted. And he would’ve let it happen. The hidden honesty in his words coerced the same thing from her own lips.

“I thought the same thing.” She confessed, a small bashful smile forming on her lips. The corners of Joel's mouth twitched up into a fleeting smile. It was gone within seconds. But the gleam of it still shone within the depths of his brown irises.

Then he offered her a small understanding nod. And that was all that was needed. The flame of hope flickered on.

They both took their seats and ate the homemade dinner in comfortable silence.

The same fragile routine had now taken place every night since then. As soon as Joel would return home from the docks, he would be greeted by the sight of Y/N chopping up the chosen vegetable for that night. If he came home early enough, there would still be certain tasks that needed to be finished, and she never complained when he would step in beside her with freshly washed hands— the sleeves of his flannel rolled further up his forearms— ready to help.

He liked those times the most. There was something serene in the way they moved around the kitchen together, as if they were living proof of perfect harmony. So most days, Joel would finish the menial tasks at work as quickly as he possibly could to return home before she finished cooking. He was greedy for more of these interactions to hold under his belt. And he would always be slightly disappointed whenever he found the table already set. Though that grievance wouldn’t last long as he was soon greeted by Y/N’s smile, that seemed to be getting brighter with each passing day.

Unfortunately for Y/N, she was not granted with the same reassurance.

As it turns out, Joel was a brick wall of a man, which was a fact he was completely unaware of. So his expressions of contentedness were lost on the woman. She wasn’t observant enough to notice how he would return home from work earlier and earlier each day. Or to catch on to the way his eyes would linger on her while they silently ate their dinner.

What she did notice was how he never smiled. It was as if he never learned how to. Maybe he had been a sad little baby from the moment he was born. Or perhaps he did know how to smile, and he just never had a reason to. Not even now. Not even with her.

Which, to be honest, was a punch in the gut for the young woman, since she had been finding so much joy during the times they shared together.

She tried to be rational, because Joel had always been a very unemotional man. But Y/N’s brain always kicked into overdrive whenever she was left alone with her thoughts, and it always boiled down to the conclusion that perhaps Joel just didn’t like her very much.

Oh, how the tables have turned. One minute she detested the man she was betrothed to and in the next she lapped up any attention he had gifted her like a small pathetic puppy. She was desperate to know more about the man. What was it that made him smile? Who was he? What were his interests? What was he like as a child?

And why on earth would his first wife ever leave him?

She had found out the answer to that— as well as caught her first glimpse of the surprising range of his emotions— all in the same night.

There was a storm that evening. Dark and unrelenting as the onslaught of rain pounded against the roof of their quaint little house. Big bolts of lighting hung low in the sky, illuminating the world in small fractions of time. The thunder rolling deep on its heel.

Joel was hours late. The dinner that sat on the table was ice cold. Though that fact was unnoticed by the woman, as she paced the distance of the kitchen, her bones wracked with worry. This was the perfect example of how her mind kicked into overdrive in times of distress. She assumed the worst.

She imagined Joel dead, left unbreathing, body lost under treacherous waves.

Panic quickened the beat of her heart. Any efforts she made to calm herself fell flat. Reason and rationality were lost to her completely. All she could do was to keep moving her feet.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Until her feet took her further. Soft footsteps rang out against the floor of the living room and then up the stairs. They paced the length of the hallway a few times until the woman found herself stationed in front of the door to the master bedroom.

Her hand had somehow found itself gripped around the cool metal of the doorknob.

When she twisted it, the door swung open with ease.

It was easy for Y/N to dismiss her worries when it was replaced by a burning curiosity. She stood at the precipice of his bedroom, eyes flickering over every surface.

There was a large bed that sat in the middle of the room, left untidy by the man who stumbled out of it early that morning. The image of his large form tangled in the sheets flickered to the front of her mind, before she forced herself to focus on the next part of the room.

There was a bay window, looking out over the back garden. The bench underneath it was adorned with countless throw pillows, a detail that must have been added by his previous wife. Joel didn’t seem to be the type to appreciate that type of decor. A weird surge of jealousy was added to the other emotions she was already riddled with that evening. It burned bright behind her sternum.

But then her gaze roamed over the bookshelf that towered over the rest of the room. It resided next to a door, but what could potentially be hidden behind it wasn’t what had her feet moving deeper into the room. (Since it was most likely a bathroom, anyways.)

It was a picture.

Sat on one of the middle shelves of the bookshelf. It was framed in an intricate engraved pattern of gold-painted wood, a happy memory captured in black and white.

Frozen in time was the image of a young girl— most likely not even reaching double digits in her age. Her smile was bright and somewhat stubborn as she grinned up at her from the frame. She had dark skin and soft eyes that reminded the woman of Joel. Her hair framed her face in disorderly curls, tousled by the seabreeze. Y/N smiled softly at the wild look that sparked in the girl's irises, as if ready for any adventure that would be thrown her way. She ran a finger over the smooth glass, like she could caress the girl's face in her own hands.

“What are you doing?”

It wasn’t the words themselves that caused the woman to drop the picture, but rather the rage that was intertwined within them. Her eyes snapped up to find Joel standing in the door, backlit from the light in the hallway. His brown hair was matted against the skin of his forehead, soaked by the heavy rain. The rest of it dripped off of his clothes as they clung to his skin, creating a puddle around his boot-clad feet.

The glass of the frame shattered once it hit the floor.

“Who told you, you could come in here?” He seethed, reaching her in just a few long strides. She cowered against the bookshelf in his advancement but the collision never came. He bent towards the ground, large hands shifting through the broken glass.

“I-I’m sorry.” Y/N stammered, dropping down to help him. He pushed her hands away.

“Don’t.” He snapped.

“Why would you do this?” He then added, his words were harsh. He looked up at her, his eyes were dark with his wrath. A small pathetic sound squeaked out of her throat, she shook her head, unable to find the words.

And then the next thing she knew, she was running. Was it the anger that caused her to run? Or perhaps her own embarrassment. She didn’t know. But the sudden invasion of his unconventional display of emotion had become all too much. The same feet that carried her towards the master bedroom brought her out into the garden.

Y/N barely realized where she was until she registered the harsh rain that bombarded her skin, her hair and clothes instantly soaked as she ventured out among the overgrown weeds. Her legs didn’t stop until her palms wrapped around the familiar wood of the porch swing she spent so much of her time with. Her shoulders shook with shame, cursing herself inwardly for her intrusiveness.

And then… Somehow, through the howling wind, Y/N had heard her name.

She whipped her head towards the house to see that Joel had followed her. He charged through the storm, through the vegetation that whipped wildly in the wind, until he reached her. She expected more of his anger.

Instead she was met with two large hands cupping her cheeks.

“Are you hurt?” He asked over the raging of the storm, before she could make any questions of her own.

“I— what?” She faltered, her hands instinctively moving up to caress the skin of his wrists.

“Are you alright?” He repeated himself with new words, his brown eyes flickering over each feature of her face, as if he was making sure each part of her was still there.

“It’s only rain. Of course I’m alright.” She answered, a bit impatiently. Did he really think so little of her and her competence?

“You certain?” He asked, and that’s when Y/N took notice of the panic that resided in his brown irises. His breathing was dissonant and in a sense, frightened. This was something else entirely.

“Joel.” She said her tone shifted drastically from annoyance to something much softer. But his movements were still frantic as he searched her for any injuries.

“Joel!” She said again, louder this time, hoping to gain his attention. When she didn’t, Y/N tightened her grip around the wrist of his right hand, and shifted it towards her beating heart. She hoped he could feel the proof of her life that thrummed against the skin of her chest.

The evidence of her heartbeat calmed Joel down, his breathing evened out.

“I’m fine.” She murmured, tilting her chin to kiss the palm of his left hand. She was unsure of what brought her to do it, but it seemed to help as Joel then pulled her into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders. He sighed once he felt her weight against him.

“I’m alright.” She reiterated into his soaked flannel. His arms wound tighter around her.

And then they were back inside. To her objection, he had made her take a shower, to extinguish any chill that the rain might have instilled in her bones. She almost got away with not taking one until her chattering teeth proved her otherwise. He had given her such a demanding look that she had no other choice but to do as he said.

So once she was showered and dressed in warm pajamas, (and once he did the same). They were now sitting in the living room. Her knees were curled up to her chest as she sat on the couch, Joel’s feet were solid against the patterned rug that sat beneath them, in an armchair angled directly in front of her. Their usual silence had found them again. Was it comfortable or not? Y/N had yet to find out. Joel broke it before she could.

“I’m sorry.” He told her, his cheeks pink with shame and his eyes averted to the ground. She shook her head in defiance to his apology, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

“No, it was my—” She tried to counter. But he pursed his lips, causing her to promptly keep her mouth shut.

“I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you like that.” He said after a brief pause.

“It was well deserved.” Y/N admitted, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “I shouldn’t have entered your room.”

Joel shook his head the same way she did, only slightly, but Y/N caught it.

“It was about time, anyways.” He commented. She resisted the urge to pry for more, cause she knew that eventually he would indulge in her curiosities. And he did.

“She was my daughter.” He murmured, knuckles white from his grip on the arms of the plush leather chair he was sitting upon.

“The girl. In the picture.” Joel clarified when he was met with her silence. But Y/N already knew that. Her silence to his explanation was due to the word he used. Was.

She repeated it out loud, in the form of a question.

A sigh escaped Joel's lips, he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He still wouldn’t meet Y/N’s gaze.

“Do you remember that storm twelve years ago?” Joel questioned, his palm running over his forehead as he prepared himself to tell this story. Y/N responded with a soft ‘yes.’ It was a horrible, outrageous storm that caused so much damage to their little town. So much loss and heartache that hung over the island, even to this day. She was fifteen years old. The fear of it all was still present in her memories.

“Well, my daughter… Sarah. She…” His voice cracked, he dragged in a shuddering breath. “Somehow she got outside. Debris from the old farmhouse across the street was picked up by the wind. Pierced right through her—”

A sharp sob interrupted his sentence. Y/N wasted no time. She pushed up from her spot on the couch and was on her knees, sitting in front of him in a moment's notice. Her hands were splayed across his own thick thighs, she squeezed her digits around the muscles in reassurance. He didn’t need to say anything more. The picture was painted.

“She was nine years old.” Joel whispered into the hand that was still hiding his features, finding the courage to speak more about it once he felt her touch through the fabric of his pajama pants. “Nine years old, and she lost her life.”

And now everything was clear. It made sense why he was so scared for her life out there in the garden. He had experienced a loss like that before. A cruel twist of fate that took the life of his daughter. Right in his front yard.

“I wish every day that it was me instead of her.” He admitted, more sobs wracking through his body, large shoulders shaking.

It was peculiar to see him like this. Usually he was such a vision of strength, but now that these emotions were presented to Y/N, everything made so much more sense. He was hiding himself. Scared of more loss, if he opened his heart up to anyone else. This was only more confirmed as he continued.

“My wife— My first wife, she couldn't handle the loss of our daughter.” Joel relayed, “I don’t think she was happy with me. Not until Sarah was born. And once she was gone… She didn’t have a reason to stay…”

His words died in the air after that. But yet again there was no need to continue. Y/N understood. And all she could do was shift her hands so that her arms were now wrapped around his neck. She pulled Joel in as close as she could, her waist now fitted between his thighs. He clutched onto her in return, fingers gripping into her nightgown. His head resting in the crook of her neck, mouth pressed against the tendon.

“I won’t leave you.” Y/N whispered into his hair, still damp from the recent shower.

She wasn’t exactly sure what brought her to say those words, but once they were hanging in the air she knew them to be true. And she knew he did too once she felt his lips form into a distinguishable kiss against her skin. It was faint, but the spark of it lingered, and it changed everything.

A few months had passed since the night of the storm and a lot had changed for the woman, at least inwardly. But their routine? It was all the same. They would make dinner, share in their comfortable silence (sometimes punctuated with lighthearted conversation) and then they’d return to their separate bedrooms. Every. Single. Night. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was a bit frustrating to say the least.

And then he would leave every few weeks, on a venture out at sea. Where he would be gone for days at a time. And of course, she would miss him terribly. But would Y/N accompany him to the docks whenever he would leave? No. Would she ever be there to greet him home? Also no.

So it was safe to say that the blame was partially on her. Which frustrated the woman even further, because now she couldn’t even rely on the fact that the indifference was all one sided. Her actions apparently proved otherwise.

But what was it that she wanted to change? Maybe she expected their conversations to be much lengthier now that they had crossed the boundaries of hidden grievances. Or maybe she expected him to extend an invitation to sleep in his bedroom, now that they had participated in small instances of physical touch. Whatever it was, Y/N only knew one thing.

It had seemed they were still stuck at square one.

And with every one step forward there were three steps back. Not so long ago they were so close, lips against skin in the quiet of their living room. Safe in each other's arms as the storm raged on. But now? There was nothing.

She resented the fact that she was falling into the wants and desires of the common Ardorian townsman. It all seemed very mundane against the aspirations she held close to her heart before she was married. But as she stewed in these feelings— especially during the times that Joel was away— she wondered if these desires were just part of the human experience. Perhaps they were even the desires that came with the burning passionate love she yearned for…

Now that she knew what it felt like. It all seemed so natural. You meet the one who befuddles your heart and soul and all you want is… more, more, more.

Would she ever get what she was hoping for?

Maybe she could, if she was brave enough.

The opportunity presented itself the eve of Joel’s next expedition.

He had gotten home early that day, so he was around to help finish up dinner. Y/N remembered being unable to look away as his large hands sliced each potato that needed to be added to the pot. He was attentive with his actions, just as he always was. She was jealous of the knife that resided gently in his grasp. Heat burned under her cheeks at her desperation.

Of course every detail of her wants and needs went unnoticed by Joel. Everything about their usual marital customs went off without a hitch, why should he think anything different could happen?

They ate their meal in silence. They cleaned up after themselves, as always. And then they slowly made their way up the stairs, just like they did every night.

Joel stopped on the landing at the top. Y/N followed his actions. This wasn’t unusual, the same thing happened on every eve of his long departures. He stood, towering above her, she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

“I’ll be gone before you wake up.” He told her, his voice gruff. She nodded, once. Simple and to the point. Just like always.

Joel nodded back in confirmation and then turned to go, like a captain dismissing his subordinate. It was all very formal. Almost passionless, which was such a great contradiction to what the young woman was feeling inside of her chest. She was just about ready to burst. So even though she wasn’t exactly intending on doing so— she wasn’t surprised when her hand shot out to clasp her fingers around his wrist, stopping him before he disappeared into the secret confines of his bedroom.

“You okay?” Joel asked, once he was facing her again. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but that wasn’t the way she wanted him to look at her. She shook her head, but it wasn’t an answer to his question. It was more like she was trying to tell him that that was the wrong thing to ask. Or rather, the wrong thing to do.

“What’s wrong?” He inquired.

As it turned out, Joel was not a mind-reader. And since Y/N was too afraid to speak out loud about any of her desires, she did the next thing she could think of.

Her hands moved to grasp firmly against the lapels of his flannel. The floorboards beneath her creaked as she shifted onto her toes. She pulled Joel closer— closer than he’s ever been. She squeezed her eyes shut— almost like she was terrified when really this was all she wanted— and then before either of them knew it, she slotted her mouth against his own in a fervid kiss.

Joel stilled under the soft touch of her lips, surprised by the action, heart thrumming in his chest as he wondered if this was real. But the hesitation only lasted a split second before he reciprocated her kiss, leaning into her. The eagerness of which had caused their bodies to shift so that Y/N’s back was against the wall. She gasped against his lips, the grip on his shirt loosening.

He pulled away, but only slightly. His nose brushed against hers as he searched her eyes for any protests. He only found her pupils blown out with lust, paired with an indiscernible nod, a concession to keep going.

In an instant, his large hands were now cupping her face, calluses rough on her skin but she didn’t mind— in fact she relished in it. Her fingers twisted into his shirt once again as he traced her bottom lip with his tongue, pulling another soft gasp from her. He used that to his advantage, slipping his tongue against hers. She whimpered at the taste of him, earning a groan that rumbled deep in Joel’s chest, each of her sweet sounds causing an involuntary twitch from behind the zipper of his pants.

Joel was becoming more eager, selfish for more of that saccharine sound, his hands started to inch downwards. Smoothing over the curve of her neck, following the path of her shoulders, trailing down her arms, until his hands rested near the small of her back. He pulled her in closer, away from the wall. His fingers clutched onto the fabric of her dress. In a haze, he gathered more and more of the cotton within his hands, unknowingly exposing Y/N’s skin as he did.

She shivered as the back of her thighs met the frigid air, and soon almost the curve of her ass. It brought more attention to the heat that was pooling between her legs— A more intense version of a feeling that she’s only felt a few times before. It was harsh and greedy and it only grew stronger as Joel detached himself from her lips.

A whine spilled over her tongue at the loss, but all was forgiven when he began to press ardent kisses to the skin of her neck. She arched her back into his large frame, bringing notice to her nipples pebbling under the lace of her bra, another moan escaped her lips. He returned the noise with his own grunt of pleasure as his beard scratched against her supple skin. Suddenly she was aware of every single part of him.

His lips sucking softly at the skin just below her jawline. His flannel-clad chest was strong and solid underneath her hands, heartbeat pulsing into her palms. His own larger hands pulled her closer between every groan that vibrated through his throat. And then there was the hard heat of him pressed against her lower stomach.

The sign of his arousal had caused an ache so deep within her core that it shocked her. It was new and exciting, but it was overwhelming and it made her afraid of the strength that her desires possessed. The burn of shame licked white hot against her skin.

Joel— unaware of her inner turmoil as his lips kissed against the tendons in her neck— was given quite a shock when her hands pushed him away with surprising strength. He stumbled backwards, back hitting the other wall of the hallway. His eyes were wide and fearful that he did something wrong. Cheeks splotched a pretty color of pink and his lips swollen from her kiss.

Y/N covered her face with her hands, embarrassment and immense arousal caused her shoulders to tremble.

“I’m sorry.” She squeaked between her fingers, “Um, Thank you for… that, but I should…”

She backed away as she spoke, her sentence unfinished as she quickly escaped through the door to her bedroom. It slammed shut, abrasive in the action itself.

Joel stood with his back flush against the wall and a harsh strain against his zipper as he stared dumbfounded at the wood of her closed door.

Her humiliation kept her within the boundaries of her room the entire morning that next day, refusing to step even one foot out into the rest of the house until she knew Joel was gone. The sounds of his footsteps came and went just like they did every time he left for the docks. But Y/N’s dread seemed to have projected itself into the way time moved.

It felt like ages before he was actually gone, almost to the point where it felt like he was dragging his feet, hesitating to go. Like he was waiting for something to happen.

But that couldn’t have been the case, because Joel had his morning routine down to an art. So Y/N was convinced it was her own hallucination that caused time to move at such a snail’s pace.

Once the sound of the front door swinging shut rattled the foundation of their home, Y/N finally allowed herself to breathe. Just his very presence within this house— even separated by walls and other rooms— had such a strong effect on her that she couldn’t let herself recount the events of last night until she was certain she was completely alone.

And once those images returned to the forefront of her mind, she immediately pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

Though that only made the memory of it stronger through the stars that burst behind her eyelids from the hard press of her hands. A frustrated whine escaped her lips as she squirmed in her sheets. The movement of it caused her to take notice of the slick pooling in her panties, ever present since the first touch of Joel’s lips.

She rubbed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache (though of course her efforts fell flat).

How was this at all possible? How was Joel able to pull such aggressive lust from just one single heated interaction?

Maybe it was because no one had ever touched her like that before.

The awkward, clumsy kisses she had shared with others in the past couldn’t hold a candle to what Joel had done to her. Forgotten was the memory of her very first kiss, which was frail and timid like a wounded bird. Or those later in life which were nice and gentle, but nothing special. Those moments of her past were now replaced by a roaring beast of want and desire. Joel had made her feel like the world had shifted on its axis, that he shifted it himself with his own two calloused hands. Just for her. And that was only with the touch of his lips. What else was he capable of doing?

The sheets rustled under Y/N’s weight as she quickly sat up in bed, regret stirring deep in her belly. She just realized— what with the way she reacted last night— she may never be able to find out. It was such a monumental milestone for their steady forming relationship and she had ended it by pushing him away and leaving him behind in the dark shadows of the hallway. She hadn’t even spared a glance in his direction, his reaction to her abrupt dismissal will remain forever unknown.

Or at least until he returns home.

But that wouldn’t be for another three days. Sure, luck was on the girls side since it was on the shorter side of his usual expeditions. But seventy-two hours left a lot of room for her overactive imagination to run rampant.

And she was now stewing on the outlandish conclusion that based on her reaction Joel would never want to touch her again. The frustration of that notion followed her throughout her morning.

It prickled at her skin as she stood in the shower, the hot water not doing enough to wash it away. Her skin was practically rubbed raw by the time she stepped out into the steamy bathroom, her hopes to scrub away her humiliation going down the drain, along with the lavender scented soap bubbles.

It caused her hands to shake, as she tugged the soft green fabric of her favorite dress over her head, the skirt of it swirling around her ankles as it fell into place. Y/N had thought if she wore her favorite clothing item that she might feel better about the whole situation.

But it didn’t help.

In fact, none of the aspects of her usual morning routine had helped her calm her beating heart, or her racing mind, or even the arousal between her legs— that, yes, was still there despite her forcing away any reminder of how it felt to have Joel’s lips on her skin.

She now stood at the kitchen counter, her eyes clenched shut as she begged her brain to conjure up any other image. But that just brought up a confusing mixture of childhood memories intertwined with the heavy sound of Joel’s breathing in her ear. Which made her feel shameful as she felt so much more different than the young restless girl she was back then. Was this the loss of her innocence? She supposed it was.

But then again, she was married to Joel. And these feelings were quite expected for a wife to feel towards her husband. There was no reason for her to feel ashamed by these thoughts, especially if they seemed reciprocated— brought forth by the evidence she felt last night pressing against her stomach.

The reminder brought heat up to her cheeks and that very same ache deep in her core when she had first felt it.

Y/N breathed in the air around her, dragging it into her lungs, pushing it out in a heavy wistful sigh. A flash of Joel’s hands flitted across her mind. Goosebumps littered her skin as she recalled the way his fingertips felt on the skin between her neck and shoulder.

Subconsciously she brought her own fingers to that very same spot. Tilting her head, she dragged her fingernails over her skin in slow circles, causing shivers to run up and down the length of her spine. She imagined how Joel’s hand was soon replaced by the soft touch of his lips, and her hand moved to her collarbone, a place she wished he had discovered with his tongue. Another sigh left her lips as her imagination replaced her hand with Joel’s. Her eyes were closed again, softer this time as she conjured up the fantasy.

Lips against skin. Hands wandering. Breathing heavy.

Though the tantalizing image soon vanished into the air like a bubble popping, when the sound of the front door slamming shut rang out through the tiny house. A gasp slipped from between her lips as she whipped around towards the intrusion. Her palm flush against her chest to calm her beating heart.

The sight of Joel standing in the doorway knocked the air out of Y/N’s lungs. It was as if her improper thoughts had manifested him to be standing right there in front of her. The curls of his hair were askew, as if he had been running his fingers through it, over and over. His large chest was heaving with slow heavy breaths, the same way her own chest was moving.

He swallowed, the adam's apple in his throat bobbing. He shook his head slightly, his brows furrowed, and then he looked back towards the door he just walked through. As if he hadn’t realized where he came from or what he was doing.

“Joel?” She questioned, her tone was breathless, desperate for something to fill the silence and tension that was slowly forming between them.

“’m sorry.” He breathed, when he turned back to her, his eyes shining with something that Y/N couldn’t quite place. Was it surprise? Curiosity? “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“What are you doing here?” She asked, somehow feeling brave enough to take a step forward. “I thought you were leaving on your trip?”

“I was— or I am.” He stumbled through the words. “It just got delayed for a couple hours. There were some last minute repairs needed on the ship…”

“And you had enough time to come back?” She questioned.

Joel paused, swallowing again. His eyes scaled over Y/N, taking in the look that resided behind her irises, the way she was breathing heavily, and how that green dress caressed her curves. She looked like she had just been caught in the act of something inappropriate, despite her just standing in the kitchen. An endeavor that was innocent in and of itself. But— god— the look of her, standing there in the golden light streaming in from the window above the sink, she looked downright sinful. Or maybe that was his own lust taking control and projecting itself onto her.

A lust that had kept him on edge this entire morning. Throughout the night too, when he was restless in his bed— remembering what happened between them— tossing and turning like the ocean tide. It never relented, so much so that when Tommy told him they had a few extra hours, Joel’s feet were already moving back towards his truck so that he could spend that time with Y/N. In this house. And even though he told himself to behave when he walked through the front door, It persisted. Even now as he stood in front of her, taking in the sight of her blown out pupils, eyes darkened with what he hoped was that very same lust.

“I forgot somethin’” He then said, as he realized she was still expecting an answer. “Had to come back to get it.”

“Oh… alright.” She replied, blinking as if she were just pulled from a trance. “What was it? I can help you look for it.”

Joel shook his head, deliberately this time. He took a step forward, the tension growing thicker as he did. His brown eyes held her stare. “I know where it is.”

His words were soft as they rolled off his tongue, causing an involuntary shiver to forge its way through Y/N’s bones. It was much more forceful than what she had felt under her own touch, only a few minutes prior. Joel must have taken notice of the effect that his voice had over her body, as he dragged in a low shuddering breath.

He took another step forward. And then another. And another, until he joined her in the kitchen, standing right in front of her, their chests only centimeters apart. Y/N had to tilt her head up to be able to look him in the eye. Which she was shocked she was brave enough to do, considering how he looked like he wanted to devour her.

“What are you doing?” She whispered, her eyes flicking down to his mouth as Joel dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. The sight of it was magnetic, pulling her in so that her chest was now brushing against his with every breath.

“Tell me to stop.” He said, his voice in that same hushed tone. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Y/N, defiant in her own nature, replied. “What was it that you forgot?”

“I didn’t forget anythin’.” Joel told her, honestly, his fingers moving to pinch at a piece of her flowing skirt. As if the small action would keep her right there in front of him. Where he was desperate to have her. Hoping that it would keep her in place instead of having her running away like last time.

“It’s more like…” He continued, tilting his head down so that his forehead rested against hers. She gasped at the skin contact, relief flooding her form as she quickly realized his touch wasn’t lost to her like she had feared. “Somethin’ I regret not doin’.”

“And what do you regret, Mr. Miller?” She murmured, her eyes averted to the floor beneath their feet. The surname fell out of her mouth unexpectedly, as if garnering his respect would grant her the knowledge of his secret.

“Well, Mrs. Miller…” The reminder that she shared that very surname with him by holy matrimony caused a jolt of surprise to coarse through her veins. But it was replaced with satisfaction soon enough. She marveled at the fact that she wasn’t exactly bothered by the concept, in fact she almost relished in it. And then Joel said his next words.

“I can show you exactly what that is… if you’ll let me.”

She didn’t have it in her to speak. Any reply that she could’ve had was lost in the back of her throat. All she could do was to nod eagerly, any shame she could’ve had at her desperation was tossed out the window.

“I need you to use your words.” Joel said in response to her movements, his voice hoarse as if he were holding himself back and the action of doing so was terribly difficult.

“I— Yes… please, Joel.” She whispered, her breath fanning across his cheeks. “I want you to show me.”

This time, Joel was the first to bring their lips together in a zealous kiss. The green fabric that resided between his forefinger and thumb was soon shifted to be gripped by his hands as he pulled her in. Their bodies were now flushed together. The softness of her breasts pushing into the solid form of his chest. Simultaneous sighs of relief intermingled on their tongues when they finally let themselves melt into one another.

Y/N gasped into his mouth when his teeth nipped at the plush skin of her bottom lip. She had already known how brash he was with his movements from their kiss last night, but now it seemed as if all of his inhibitions were lost to him, his hands now smoothing over the curve of her ass. Joel’s fingers gripped at the supple flesh through her dress, pulling her waist into his own.

She moaned at his touch, as well as the sign of his arousal digging into her hip. Her arms shifted to wrap around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscles on his back, urging him to move closer, if that were even possible.

And in this instance, she wasn’t disappointed by the loss of his lips, because he was quick to replace them somewhere else on her skin. It was as if he had to kiss every inch of her before he moved on to undiscovered territory. Joel’s lips were kissing at the corners of her lips, and the apples of her cheeks before he moved down to her jawline.

Though this was where he became more selfish in his actions, nipping at the skin so he could hear the sweet little whimpers that would waver from between her lips. Then he would lick over the bruised skin, soothing her of the slight pain he might’ve caused, heart hammering at the soft sighs of satisfaction she gifted him. Joel groaned at the sounds she made, relishing in the glory of every moan, whine and sigh. He could feel as he grew harder against the strain of his pants, the pain of it almost too much to bear. But this wasn’t about him. Instead, it had everything to do with the woman arching into his lips.

Thick fingers curled around the square neckline of Y/N’s lovely dress, knuckles brushing against her sternum as he tugged down at the fabric. A sharp gasp rang out into the air as her sleeves slid down her arms, allowing the exposure of her nipples to cold morning air, already hardened by her arousal to the man committing these actions. The flesh of her breasts bouncing slightly from the momentum in which he moved.

Joel pulled his mouth away from her, eager to get a look.

Y/N could feel herself flush under his stare, suddenly shy as he drank in this new image of her. She wanted to look away and hide in her self-consciousness, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of his dilated pupils and the endearing shade of pink that tinted his cheekbones. A burning need was flashing across his brown irises, the sight of it sparking an odd sense of confidence in the woman. She straightened her shoulders, letting him look at her. Because he would be the only man who would ever get to see her like this.

He groaned again, at the sight of her perked nipples paired with her newfound boldness.

“S’ pretty.” He mumbled, smoothing a large hand up over her breast, he could feel the pebbled skin pricking into his rough palm. She hummed at the compliment as well as his touch. Though a second later it was replaced with a harsh ‘ah’— pulled from her lips when his hand shifted so that he could pinch at her nipple.

It was the most torturous form of pleasure she had ever felt in her life. That was until he guided her body until she could feel the kitchen table digging into her lower back. His free hand gripped at the flesh under her ass, lifting her up and making it so that she was now sat against the surface. With her now stationary on the table, he was able to bend over, lips finding purchase on the nipple that wasn’t trapped between his fingers.

A high pitched moan was ripped from her throat as she subconsciously spread her legs, Joel’s hips fitting perfectly in the space between her thighs. Her hand splayed out on the wood behind her as she arched into his tongue that was now currently swirling lazy circles around the sensitive bud. And though she had never done anything like this before, her hips started to move in the only way that seemed natural. The only way that seemed to relieve the ache that pulsed between her legs.

Y/N rolled her hips up into Joel, the hardness of him firm against her clothed center, soaked from her constant arousal since their first kiss. She wondered if she would make a mess of the pants he was wearing, but the thought was fleeting once Joel pulled away from her skin.

“Fuck.” He stammered, resting his forehead in the valley of her breasts, his brown curls tickling her skin. “D-don’t do that, darlin’.”

Y/N stilled. “Why? Did I hurt you?”

He laughed breathlessly, the air of it fanning over Y/N’s chest. “No, nothing like that… Just feels t’ good.”

“Oh.” She said, a bit bashfully, but a small smile tugged at her kiss-bruised lips. Pride started to swell deep in her stomach at the admission that she made him feel just as good. And that idea was too precious to pass up on. “Then maybe I should keep doing that.”

She grinded her hips against him again, forcing him to remove himself from her chest, sucking in a harsh breath. His hand shot out, gripping onto the supple flesh of her inner thigh, now exposed as the skirt of her dress had shifted during their hectic movements.

“Please, sweetheart.” Joel begged, his nails digging into her leg. “You gotta stop.”

“But I wanna make you feel good.” She pouted, hips stilled by the brace he instilled upon her. Joel released a shaky breath, moving his forehead to rest on Y/N’s once more. His gaze was averted to the green fabric bunched up under her breasts, his brown eyes lost to her.

“You have no idea how much I want that— how long I’ve wanted that.” He murmured. “But I came back here for a reason.”

His voice sounded more determined by the end of his sentence. In doing so, it made the woman’s tone that much smaller, but she was still quite the contrarian to his words.

“I thought this was the reason.” She countered, sliding her hand up behind his neck, fingers toying with the curls at the base of his hairline. This time it was him shivering under her touch.

A soft smile curled upon Joel’s lips, he shook his head against her forehead, in slight laughter. “No. It’s close to what I was picturin’... but not quite.”

“Then what were you picturing?” She asked.

Joel leaned back, finally gracing her with the sight of his eyes, He didn’t answer her question, only holding an excruciating form of eye contact with the woman. And then, the once rough fingers that had tugged at her clothing and groped at her flesh were now trailing soft patterns into the skin of her thigh. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as they started to move closer to the spot between her legs. The ache she felt for him was now burning with great white heat.

Her own hands were gripping in their respective areas, meaning one was tugging at Joel's hair, pulling satisfied groans from his lips, while the other was locked around the edge of the table. Her hips jutted forward by their own accord when his fingertips skirted around the edge of her panties.

“Joel.” She whined, frustrated by his featherlight touch, though strangely enough also reveling in his gentle caress.

“I know.” He whispered, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “I know… I’ll give you what you want— just let me…”

He splayed his large hand onto her thigh, pushing against it so that she’d spread out wider for him. There was no resistance from her, only eager relinquishment. There was a harsh twitch of his cock at the thought that she would let him do anything with her, along with the idea that her body was all his for the taking. A covet he never thought would come into fruition.

“Please, Joel.” She urged again, and Joel realized right then that he was just as much hers as she was his. He would do anything for her. His body ached to give her exactly what she wanted.

So he did.

Y/N gasped when his thumb pressed firmly against the darkened spot on her panties, a similar gasp falling from Joel’s lips when he finally learned how wet she truly was. And it was all for him.

He moved his digit at an agonizing pace, moving in slow circles around the most sensitive part of her, not even sparing a fleeting touch to the bud of nerves. The torture of it all was exquisite. Y/N’s head fell backwards as she moaned, the tendons of her neck stretched out in front of Joel, the sight of it too enticing for his own good. He leaned forward, touching his lips against her skin.

Now having to focus on two things at once, his movements against her core became sloppy, and his touch harshened, slipping over Y/N’s clit. An embarrassing squeal forced its way from her throat as she jutted her hips fiercely into Joel’s thumb. He grinned against her skin.

“Oh, you liked that, didn't you?” He chuckled, placing more kisses down her neck, his beard scratching her skin as he moved. Y/N had a response to his teasing tone, perhaps it was even quick-witted, but it was stolen from her lips and replaced with another desperate moan when his tongue swirled around her nipple.

It was all becoming too much with every tiny ministration he committed on her skin. She felt as though she could burst into flames. Little did she know that it would all come to a head when Joel would kiss his way down her body, heavy knees dropping to the floor. There was no patience left within him when he practically ripped Y/N’s panties off of her body, hands roughly pushing her thighs apart.

“J-Joel, what are you doing?” She questioned, forearms braced against the table, being pushed back further up the furniture as Joel started nipping at her inner thigh, goosebumps following in his wake

“‘m doin’ what I came here for.” He mumbled into her skin, teeth grazing the malleable flesh. She was about to ask exactly what that might be, but the question was answered when he licked a long stripe through her slick folds.

Curses tumbled out of Y/N’s lips as he used his mouth on her. Never in a million years would she imagine that he would do something so… obscene. And she never would have anticipated how much she loved it. Her eyes were wide as she marveled at the sight of him. His brown eyes were staring back up at her from over her mound, drinking in every little reaction he spurred from her. His hair was wild, the look of it brought on by Y/N’s fingers as she ran them through the tendrils, forcing him closer and closer. And then there were the noises of him slurping and groaning and relishing in the taste of her.

At the beginning, Joel was slow with his actions, his tongue going up and down the length of her slit. Again he would frustratingly avoid touching her clit, tracing big circles around the bud, building up anticipation deep in Y/N’s stomach. But as he continued, every so often he would flick over it pulling more whimpers from Y/N’s throat. He would moan against her folds in satisfaction, the vocalizations causing slight vibrations to run through her entire form.

Y/N’s head fell with a soft thump against the table, her back arching up into the air, squirming under Joel’s actions. A hand snaked up from Y/N’s thigh, placing itself on her sternum. His palm was rough against the skin between her bare breasts, holding her down and keeping her in place.

Finally, seemingly deciding that the woman had been through enough torture, Joel wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on it harshly. She all but screamed at this new sensation overcoming her, her right leg slipping over his left shoulder, unknowingly trapping him in place. They were locked in a heated tryst, his hand still braced on her chest, her calf pushing into his back and Joel’s mouth and tongue were still unrelenting.

She couldn’t help but to twist her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer against her cunt, she grinded her hips into his face, any tribulations that she might be hurting him lost in her pleasure. But if only she knew how much Joel adored her desperate nature as she chased after her high on his tongue. In fact he had never been this hard in his life. He could feel himself dripping inside of his pants, making a mess of his boxers as precum spilled from his tip with every twitch of his cock. His hips were thrusting into the air beneath the table in his own desperation. The seam of his zipper was rubbing firmly against the length of him. Joel honestly would not be surprised if he ended up cumming without even having to touch himself.

And as it turned out, eventually he would.

Joel’s name was now falling freely from between Y/N’s lips in broken fragments. The movements of her hips were becoming clumsy, stuttering as Joel continued to lick at her clit, groaning everytime she pulled at his hair. The heat burning low in her stomach began to grow hotter and more incessant. And with one more deliberate move of Joel’s tongue against her clit, it all began to burst.

The sight of Y/N cumming was the prettiest thing Joel had ever seen. Her head was thrust back against the table, supple lips drawn open as more of her moans escaped into the air, along with the sound of his name. Her whole body was tensing and shaking as the waves of her orgasm washed over her body. Joel’s mouth was ruthless on her cunt, drinking anything she had to offer him as the proof of her orgasm splashed over his tongue. The sight of her, as well as the taste of her, was all too much to bear as his own hips involuntarily jutted into nothing, the confines of his pants working against him in a way that had him finishing. He shuddered at the sensation, his shoulders trembling as he could feel his own cum spill into the fabric of his underwear. He whimpered into Y/N’s cunt, breathing sharply out of his nose, still trying to coax her down from her own orgasm as her body became limp and her breathing heavy, until finally everything started to slow down.

Searching hands groped around until they finally found purchase on Joel’s shoulders. She tugged at his shirt, forcing him away from her oversensitive core and out from between her legs.

She was met with eyes blown out with lust and a fading orgasm, red lips parted in amazement and beard shining with her cum. His clothes were askew and his brown curls were all over the place. He looked completely out of it. Though she probably couldn’t say she was much better.

And Joel admired the image of it as he stood above her. She blinked up at him, leaning back on her elbows, a look of pure wonderment painting her features. Her green dress was bunched around her middle, nipples still perked in the cool air of the kitchen, her chest stuttering with every breath. He smiled softly at her, leaning to snake a hand around her waist, pulling her up into a sitting position, her hands instinctively looping around his broad shoulders.

“You alright?” He asked gently as he stood her on shaking legs, the skirt of her dress now falling back in place. She shivered when she felt the touch of his knuckles on her chest once again as he shifted the top of her dress back in its proper position.

“I— um… yeah.” She said breathlessly, words lost to her in her post-orgasmic state. Joel couldn’t help but grin at her flustered demeanor, bringing a hand up to her cheek. She was grateful for his touch, leaning into his hand as he caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips causing Y/N to taste herself upon his skin.

“Did you… get what you were looking for?” Y/N questioned, once they pulled apart. Earning soft laughter deep from within Joel’s chest. The sound of it quirking up the corners of Y/N’s lips in a shy smile, pride swelling in her belly since she was the one who caused it.

“That I did, sweetheart.” He smiled, running a hand over her hair, his eyes sparking with contentment. Her shy smile morphed into that of a bright grin, pulling him back in towards her to share a deeper kiss. He groaned into her lips, unexpected for the both of them as another surge of lust sparked between them, seemingly unsatisfied by what they had just finished. She whimpered back into his mouth as tongues started probing and teeth nipping once again. At a particularly boisterous moan from Y/N, Joel had to pull away.

“W-wait.” He breathed, “I— We can’t, we don’t have time. I have to go back.”

Y/N deflated at his words, but ultimately nodded her head in understanding. She took a step back from him, needing the distance to quell her need to melt into him once more. Though Joel’s fingers quickly wrapped around her own, stopping her from moving away any further.

“You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?” He asked, the question causing Y/N’s heart to drop down to her stomach. As she looked at him she found insecurities scrawled across his features. Maybe she hadn’t done enough to convince him that she wasn’t going anywhere. Or perhaps this was leftover from pain he endured in the past. She brought his hand up, brushing her lips across his knuckles in a sweet kiss, and then covered that spot with her free hand.

“I promise.” She whispered, her gaze locked on his searching eyes, flickering over her features, trying to find the truth. When he found nothing but her earnest smile he felt brave enough to go, but not before leaving her with one more breathless kiss.

Y/N had watched silently as he got ready to leave, washing his face with the bar of hand soap left on the side of the kitchen sink. She didn’t say anything as he readjusted his clothes and threw his bag over his shoulder. And she didn’t beg him to stay when he finally placed that final kiss upon her lips. All she did was sink further and further into the throes of missing him, despite the fact that he was right in front of her.

It only grew stronger as he whispered more promises of continuing when he returned three days later. She held onto that promise, close to her chest like a dying flame, watching as the view of his truck disappeared over the horizon.

She prayed to the gods above that time would fly quickly.

Though perhaps she should’ve been praying for something else entirely.

Because later that night and hundreds of miles out from the shoreline, a little ship bobbed at sea. The workers on deck scrambled in preparation. Worry stiffened their brows. Prayers to Poseidon fell from their lips. A soft pattern of rain began to sprinkle over their heads, it was unassuming in its very nature. But that was just the first sign of the oncoming danger as they headed into the eye of the storm.

Three days came and went.

Joel had yet to return home.

Y/N knew that the life of a fisherman was dangerous and unpredictable, she had heard many stories, most of which when she was younger, whispered to her by her classmates as they relayed the most gory details from the sad news of a shipwreck. Some were overheard at the local pub, traumatic events recounted around a bottle of brandy as fishermen tried to top each other's stories.

Frankly, these stories hardly bothered the young woman like it did to others in town. She couldn’t indulge in the disturbance of it all because the way these stories were told, relayed like an unattainable fairytale. It was all folklore in her mind. She was certain that nothing like that could ever affect any aspect of her life.

She was eating her words now.

It was on the sixth day that Joel was gone when she heard that it was a storm that delayed their ship, knocking it off its course.

The information was brought to her front doorstep by her very own father, who in his old age made the trek across the island to do so. This left Y/N’s stomach unsettled, for he would never go to such great lengths unless something truly terrible had occurred.

She was reminded of the day her mother died. He adorned the same face that painted his features now. Eyes downcasted, lower lip trembling, hands twisting around his patched cap. He was sitting on one of the wooden chairs strewn around the kitchen table. Y/N was leaned up against the counter, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“We didn’t get the message until early this morning. Radio was down, they barely got it workin’ when they reached us...” He said quietly, to the toes of his boots.

“And?” Y/N urged, knowing her father had more to say.

“They lost a few men.” He said quickly, as if he couldn’t stand to have the words left on his tongue. Y/N sucked in a breath. She turned around, facing the window over the sink. She braced her palms on the counter, vision blurring as tears pricked the corner of her eyes.

“Did they say who?” She asked, words choked between her tightening vocal cords, constricting from her tears.

“No, couldn’t keep the signal for long enough.” He murmured, she could hear him stand, the legs of the chair squeaking against the tile. “But they did say they’ll be returning by this evening.”

Y/N whipped around at that, her features twisted in vexation. The lead buried so much deeper than it needed to be. She would have to keep her annoyance left unsaid, however, as now there was no time to waste.

She brushed past her father hastily, ignoring the way her name was called after her as she staggered around the living room, clumsy in the way she tugged her boots over her feet. Her jacket was long forgotten on the hook by the door as she hurried outside, the thought of it only coming once the cool winds whipped at her exposed arms and cheeks. But she wouldn’t turn back for it. Her adrenaline kept her warm, anyways.

It was a two hour walk to get to the docks. Beads of sweat ran down her spine, blisters pinched at the heels of her feet, her breathing was labored as she pushed her anxiety out of her lungs. Though none of that mattered. All she knew was that she had to get to the docks. She had to get to him. If he was even there…

She swiped angrily at the tears that now carved pathways down the skin of her cheeks. Never in her life had she ever been able to keep her emotions at bay, she was always willing to scream at the sky and cry til her throat was raw. That fact was unchanging even as she grew older. So she let her tears fall. They didn’t distract from her current mission, anyhow. Her eyes were set on the small town that appeared over the horizon.

The whole town congregated at the docks. Passersby stood on the cobblestone streets, their inherent nosiness ill-concealed by their feigned looks of concern. Whispers flitted between them as if this were all just a dramatized show to keep them entertained. Y/N let no apologies slip through her lips as she pushed her way through them, knocking into their shoulders and earning glares as she did.

When her footsteps rang out on the wood of the dock that's when she was surrounded by the people like her. Family members worried for their loved ones lost at sea. They all stood silently as their eyes were set towards the ocean, hands clutched in prayer, whispering hopes that it wasn’t their spouse, parent or child who lost their life to an unrelenting sea. Y/N was too impatient to do the same. She just stood and waited for any kind of sign that Joel would be home soon.

It came only thirty minutes later. When a small boy at the front of the dock screeched in anticipation, pointing out a small dot wavering in the distance. Y/N’s stomach swooped down in a mixture of hope and apprehension. She was terrified to learn the truth of what happened.

But twenty minutes after that, the truth had arrived as the ship pulled in with the tide. Everyone advanced closer to where the fisherman would eventually unboard. Y/N stayed behind, her feet frozen to where she stood. Maybe she was trying to delay the inevitable.

Relieved cries and overjoyed calling of names soon swirled into the evening air as loved ones were reunited. Warm embraces and fervent kisses were exchanged between them. But it was all backtracked by the ones who received news of a death, heartbreaking wails mixing in with the sound of reunion.

It was an unsettling cacophony of sounds. The way love and loss intertwined within one another. Two sides of the same coin. And Y/N still had yet to know which one she was on.

Her hands were shaking. Her sight was restricted by the many heads that stood in front of her. She scanned each face, none of them holding the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to. Her stomach sank deeper and deeper, her throat started to constrict again, a sob threatened to burst out from between her trembling lips.

She couldn’t hold it back once she registered a mess of brown and gray curls making its way through the crowd. The sob released itself, though not in anguish as she had thought, it was instead paired with the most intense form of relief she had ever known. Her feet started to move by their own accord.

His name fell desperately from her lips.

Joel stilled once he heard the sound of it. Brown eyes wild as he searched frantically for where it was coming from. When they found her through a split in the crowd, Y/N was met with the same look of relief she knew was apparent within her own irises.

His stride lengthened as he worked fast to cut the distance between them. As she drew nearer, he registered the tear stains on her supple skin, fresh ones following the same path. His heart lurched at the sight, the overwhelming need to hold her burning his skin. Burning hotter as she drew nearer. Setting him ablaze when she was right in front of him.

He tossed his bag to the side in favor of wrapping his arms around her. He relished in the way she sank into his arms, curling into his chest. He felt how her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, beating in the same pattern as his own. Joel held onto her even tighter.

“You scared the hell out of me.” She cried, tone muffled by his cable knit sweater as she hid her face in his warmth. A large hand smoothed over the back of her head, bringing her in even closer if that was even possible. His nose dropped down into her hair, the scent of her invading his senses, comforting him. He was back home. Safe. And she was here waiting for him.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” He murmured, the nickname falling freely in his solace.

She didn’t seem to mind.

They returned home just as the sun dipped below the horizon, losing the orange hues of the sunset to a dark velvet sky littered with stars. The journey was much easier on the way back now that they had Joel’s old truck that was waiting for him down by the docks. As well as the fact that the reassurance of Joel’s return replaced the heavy feeling of fear that had haunted Y/N for the past three days.

They were greeted by a homemade meal, left behind by Y/N’s father. A gift either of consolation or celebration. She was grateful it was the latter.

And once their bellies were full and the pain of the day was washed away in soothing streams of hot water, the two of them stood in the hallway once again. Y/N was unsure of what to do. Less than a week ago they had crossed a boundary she hadn’t even dreamed of. Now they were standing at the precipice of something even greater. And since Joel was safe at home once again, the anticipation to act on it was dripping from the walls.

Was she ready for such a feat? Was Joel expecting something like this to happen? Nerves brought a tremor to her hands.

Meanwhile, Joel could feel the tips of his ears burning at the memory of what happened the last time they were alone together. Her moans had him weak in the knees, her skin was soft to the touch, things he only knew since Y/N had made the first move in this very hallway. A bolder woman than what stood in front of him now, as her eyes stayed glued to the floor, her breathing fragmented from timidity.

His gaze softened as he took in the sight of her.

“I don’t know what you’re expectin’ to happen...” He breathed, a soft smile turning up the corners of his mouth, “But I can assure you it’s not what you’re thinkin’...”

Y/N’s eyes flickered up at the teasing lilt to his words. She was met with a mischievous gleam in those brown eyes as he repeated the very first thing she ever said to him. She couldn’t help her own grin that bloomed across her lips.

At her smile, he felt brave enough to bring a hand up to her cheek.

“You have nothing to worry about, darlin’” He then murmured, stroking his thumb over the soft skin. She leaned in his touch, peering up at him through her lashes. “We don’t have to do anythin’.”

“I want to.” She whispered back, her words causing his breath to hitch in his throat. “Eventually… but tonight…”

He nodded, removing his touch from her face. “I understand.”

The floorboards creaked as he took a step back. But surprise shot up his spine when she moved to clutch his fallen hand with both of her own.

“But tonight could you just lay with me?” She quickly added.

She looked up at him expectantly, the plush of her bottom lip dragged between her teeth. He let out a low labored breath.

“Y-yeah.” He nodded, the word weak on his tongue. He was afraid that if he spoke any louder he might scare her off. Though the grip of her fingers locked around his palm proved to him that she was there to stay. A reassurance he was always grateful for.

Y/N tugged at his hand, urging him to follow as she guided their way into her bedroom. It was an odd choice, considering the master bedroom was just right there and the bed was bigger. But to be invited into her private sanctuary was an opportunity he would never pass on. So his feet followed eagerly.

It was dark in the room when they entered and it stayed that way as no one made a move to turn on the light. Unfortunately, what she had done to make the bedroom her own was lost to his eyes, but that regret was soon forgotten as he heard the squeak of mattress springs and the shuffling of blankets.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found Y/N’s form on the bed in front of him, he stood on the side, basking in the glory of this moment.

“Come here.” Her whisper found him through the dark. His stomach swooped at the sultry sound of her voice. But he ignored any provocative thoughts that wormed its way into his brain. Instead, he obeyed her command, the mattress dipping as he slid under the covers beside her.

In an instant, his senses were invaded by her scent as well as her warmth. There was only an inch or two of distance between them. Both lying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

A sharp intake of breath rang out from Joel when the touch of her fingertips smoothed over his open palm in the space between them. Naturally, his own digits curled around hers. He heard as she sighed happily from his reciprocation.

And somehow— despite how fast his heartbeat was when he had her writhing under his tongue only a few days prior, it was nothing compared to the small gentle act of holding her hand.

Joel was up before the sun.

As was the case every morning, since his body's internal clock was intune with the demanding schedule his occupation thrusted upon him. So he was used to opening his eyes to a darkened world, not yet warmed by rays of sunlight.

Though today was slightly different. He wasn’t woken by the natural fluttering of his eyelids as his dreams from that night slipped away; Instead it was the press of another person’s form against his body, an arm draped over his torso, legs intertwined between his own, head resting on his chest.

He stiffened once he remembered where he was and who it was.

Y/N.

She was warm through the fabric of their pajamas. So much so that Joel didn’t even miss the warmth of the sun like he usually did during these dark and frigid mornings. A deep contented sigh pushed through the structure of his chest, Y/N’s head moving in time with his breathing. The movement elicited a small whine from her lips.

The sound had his heart racing yet again, reminding him of the other noises she was capable of making.

Those noises had been replaying over and over in Joel’s mind ever since he was blessed to hear them— even better, to create them with the touch of his own hands and lips. He brought the memory with him when he was on that small boat, miles out at sea, restless in his cot as he ached to return home to her.

When they were caught in the throes of that storm all he could think about was her. The drive of it kept him alive throughout the chaos.

Now here he was, sharing in her warmth, despite the awkward navigation of their newfound forms of intimacy. Anticipation surged through his muscles, pulling away the last dregs of sleep that had plagued his limbs.

Joel cursed under his breath as something else began to stir to life.

This was a young man's game. He was in over his head with the feelings she evoked from him. Never in his life had he experienced anything quite like this. The way every part of his body begged for every part of hers. Everything he’d felt for those before her was just a crude imitation of what he felt for her at this very moment. It was almost an insult to compare. Nothing could ever compare..

And he had no idea what he was supposed to do.

Which was funny. Because this woman was his wife. She was the one person he should feel this for. But with the way they had started Joel wasn’t sure what he was allowed to take what he wanted. Was he allowed to be selfish the way he wanted to? Everything surrounding the two of them was delicate. And Joel was terrified of breaking it with his large and clumsy hands.

For now he would just have to hold himself back. Be gentle in the way that he navigated this unknown territory. Which meant he had to do the hardest thing in the world.

He had to get out of this bed.

Slowly and cautiously he detangled his limbs from the woman beside him. He trained his eyes on her face, searching for any sign that his movements were waking her up. The line between her eyebrows showed itself when her cheek lost the firm foundation of his chest, but that— and a few incoherent mumbles— was all that occurred as he slipped himself out of her bed. Luckily, she seemed to be a sound sleeper as she curled up into herself without Joel’s warmth.

Joel stood above her, almost caught in a trance from how disgruntled she looked now that he was gone, proof of the effect he had on her as well. A small smile danced on his lips. And then he allowed himself one indulgence as he leaned over to brush a faint kiss over her forehead. He felt her features smooth under his lips, seemingly content with his departing gift.

To wake up alone in a cold empty bed was not what Y/N had expected that morning. There were a few instances during the night, when her dreams took a pause that she would wake up, eyes blinking in the dark. And she quickly grew accustomed to the strong presence that Joel was. The soft steady sound of his snores was a comfort to the girl’s ears as they rumbled through his chest. At some point in the night his strong arms had encircled around her waist, pulling her into his warmth.

That very same warmth, having been taken away from her, was now sorely missed. She stretched an arm out over the expanse of her bed, fingers groping at where Joel once lay.

She supposed she should’ve expected to wake up like this, considering how early he left every morning. But she would have thought she would’ve woken up when the time came. At least long enough to spare a goodbye before he headed off to work.

Disappointment sat heavy over her form like a stormy rain cloud. Y/N tried not to dwell on it, but as always her feelings were too strong to contain, so throughout the whole rest of the day she moved about the house wistful in demeanor. Yearning for Joel despite the fact he would be home in a few hours time.

Was this usually how it happened when you start to feel this way towards someone? Like your whole world stops turning when they aren’t near? Whatever the case, she knew that these feelings were not to be taken lightly. There was a rarity to them that made her heart much more precious to the woman. She felt like she needed to keep it safe, deep in her pocket where no harm would find it, and no one would be able to see the extremities of her feelings.

And that’s where she kept it as her restless feet wandered into town.

But as she walked, something funny happened. Everywhere she looked, everything seemed so much brighter. The people who passed her by greeted her with warm ‘hello’s’ and ‘how are you’s’. Kids were laughing as they played in the street, laughing. There were lovers in front of shops holding hands and exchanging stolen kisses. Birds were singing. The sun was… shining? Everything that used to be dreary about the island, everything that Y/N hated, had somehow flipped to be the exact opposite of what it used to be. Or perhaps… it had always been like this and she just hadn’t noticed, too caught up in her own pretension and desperate need to escape.

Perhaps this island really did live up to its name.

Why was it that she had just noticed this now? What had changed?

She thought of her beating heart, hidden in her deepest pocket. And then froze in her tracks.

She was reminded of something. Something she had only heard in the old sea-shanties her father used to sing while he cooked. In the stories her mother used to whisper to her at bedtime. And that used to worm her way into her dreams late at night, planting the idea that she had to escape in the first place. She had to go find it.

It was love.

And it hit her like a ton of bricks.

Well, not the love part, that made sense to her as the loose ends were finally tied together. What surprised her the most was that she didn’t have to travel to the furthest reaches of the earth to find it. It had been on this very island the whole entire time. And it was fated to be shared with the man she was hell-bent against marrying.

Incredulous laughter began to bubble out of her throat. So much so that she had to brace herself on her knees as she gasped for air. She was definitely living up to her reputation as the crazy woman, earning strange glances from passersby. But she didn’t care. She never cared. All she really cared about was burning passionate love, that’s what she had been yearning for all her life. And she was almost too stupid to realize that it was right under her nose.

Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong!

The clocktower in town was chiming at the start of the new hour. Five o’clock… It pulled Y/N out of her unexpected fit of laughter. Joel would be on his way home right at this very moment. And without thinking twice, the woman began to run.

Joel returned to an empty house. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as there were some days Y/N would be out in the garden, lounging on the porch swing she loved oh-so much, having lost track of time. He would always find her, caught in the middle of a fascinating passage, one she couldn’t tear her eyes from. The idea of dinner would not have crossed her mind, as it was often lost in the clouds.

He never minded that, though. In fact, he quite liked finding her like that because then it meant that he would get the chance to be by her side while they made their meal together. And he also couldn’t lie about the fact that he enjoyed seeing the image of her, so carefree, with her knees tucked beneath her, skin glowing underneath the evening sun. He would always take a moment to stop and watch her, drinking in the sight of her peace before having to force her out of it.

A small smile spread across his lips at the thought he’d catch her like that now. His heavy footfalls rang out into the quiet household as he crossed the floor towards the back door. His anticipation flickered deep in his stomach once more, excited to see her.

But he was left in disappointment and slight worry when he was greeted with the sight of an empty porch swing. It looked so much sadder without her presence, the loss of her making obvious the peeling white paint and rusted chains that made the furniture what it was. Lackluster without her. A feeling now all too familiar to Joel as he searched the rest of the house, finding empty room after empty room.

He had seen this before. Lived through it. Deja vu in the form of his ex wife whittled its way into his brain. He recalled the day he found her missing. How he felt when he realized she wasn’t coming back. This was so much worse. Because now it was Y/N.

The woman he had unexpectedly fallen for, head over heels. The woman who promised him she wouldn’t do the same and that she would stay right here with him in this house.

It must’ve been too much to ask for. Joel must have wanted too much. Taken too much. She must have come to her senses and realized the potential she was wasting in a marriage with an old man like him. Dread was quick to overtake him, he knew that much. But he had never been a lucky man. Everything he ever loved was always lost to him. Why would anything change now?

Joel found himself sitting on the front step of his porch, head clutched in his hands. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that brought him out there. Maybe he needed the fresh air to rid the panic in his lungs. Or maybe it was that flicker of hope that still burned within his heart. Maybe she would return home to him. If his hopes weren’t for nothing.

“Joel?”

His head snapped up to find Y/N standing in front of him. She was out of breath, a sheen of sweat covering her skin, causing her to glow brighter than she usually did. Her irises sparked with worry as she took in the sight of his hunched form on the porch. Though once he registered that she was really there, standing in front of him, he shot to his feet.

“Y/N.” He replied, his voice riddled with a confusing tone of surprised awe, eyes thick with relief. The girl’s brows furrowed. He took the remaining two steps down to where she stood, his hands bracing themselves on her shoulders.

“Where were you?” He questioned, somewhat angrily, though through that she could see a form of desperation hiding behind it all.

“I’m sorry I was— I just came from town.” She answered, having not yet fully caught her breath, the words were hushed between her overworked lungs.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He practically begged out the question. “I could’ve brought you home.”

“I’m sorry.” She said earnestly, wrapping her fingers around his wrists. “I didn’t think of it. I was in a hurry to get back.”

“Why?”

She looked down at the ground between their feet, the distance between them small, soon to become even smaller, she was sure. A bashful smile crept up onto her lips.

“I wanted to see you.” She murmured, eyes still averted as a slight heat pinched at her cheeks. Somehow it was much harder to face him, now that she had put a name to what she had been feeling.

Surprise stiffened her shoulders when Joel let out a harsh breath of relief, his head dropping into the crook of her neck, arms looping around her waist. She soon softened under his embrace, her fingers tangling within his sea-breeze tangled hair.

“I thought you left.” He mumbled into her skin. Y/N’s stomach dropped at the hidden fear behind his words. She now understood completely where this strange new demeanor was coming from. She quickly shook her head, knowing Joel felt as she did when her cheekbone brushed against his ear in time with the movement.

“No.” She whispered. “No, I would never.”

His hold on her tightened with the words spoken. Y/N smoothed her hand over the back of his head, hoping it brought some form of comfort to the man. As his shoulders began to relax, she knew that it did. She continued her reassurance.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N tilted her head towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should’ve come down to the docks.”

“Why didn’t you?” He asked, pulling back from his hiding spot, eyes searching for the answer.

Y/N drew in a deep breath, the heat in her cheeks burning fiercer than before. She averted her gaze towards the gravel pathway, taking a step back so that possibly she could find her words within the created distance. Nerves, fairly quickly, took over her form.

“Well… to start, I think— pretty early on in our marriage you must have realized that I wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the whole ordeal.” She rambled as she began to pace, wild with her movements the way she was erratic with her words.

Joel opened his mouth to confirm, but she was speaking so fast that he never had the chance. So he watched on, almost incredulously, eyes following her as she paced back and forth in front of him, avoiding his gaze.

“I mean… I don’t think you were totally happy with it either, considering how we were at the beginning… —Anyways, none of that matters now.” Y/N waved her arms, trying to get rid of any more unnecessary words.

“The reason I was so unhappy— at first— was because I was so desperate to fall in love.” She continued, the last word ringing familiar in Joels ear. A smile perked up the corners of his mouth as realization dawned on him, patiently waiting for the girl to finish her rant.

“And I didn’t think an arranged marriage could have any possibility of that.” Y/N glanced quickly over at Joel, finding him nodding along in exaggerated understanding, strong arms crossed over his chest.

“But then a funny thing happened, when I was walking into town and I suddenly realized…” She stopped moving, facing the man head on as she said her peace. “I think I may be in love with you— No… I know that I’m in love with you.”

As he considered her— standing in front of him, with begging eyes and shaking hands— he bit back a brighter grin. With this onslaught of information he wasn’t exactly sure how he should say what he wanted to say. If the girl would even give him the chance to do so.

“And that’s why I didn’t meet you at the docks.” Y/N finished, quite lamely, hands raised out from her sides as if offering him the floor. Though, her arms flopped back down to their original position quickly after.

“So…” Joel started slowly, killing the woman with every second his pause dragged out. “You didn’t come to the docks… because you’re in love with me?”

“It would seem so.” She confirmed, her voice small with apprehension. “Do you have anything to say on the matter?”

“Just one thing.” He breathed, before taking a step forward, he looped an arm around her waist pulling her against him. A gasp fell from her lips at the eagerness in this action, her hands impulsively landing on his chest. Joel's other hand moved to rest on the side of her face, guiding her lips to slot against his in a deep-seated kiss.

It was as if the entirety of her being were in her lips, like there was nothing else in the world as he pressed soft kisses to the plush skin. Kisses that somehow conveyed the entire range of how he felt towards her. The passion showed itself as he nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth. The tenderness shown in the gentle caress of his tongue. The love being presented as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, it shining in the deep brown of his eyes.

“I love you too.” He confirmed what she saw within his irises, her heart swelling that she wasn’t on her own in feeling this way.

“I didn’t realize that’s what it was until I thought you were gone.” He told her, “I think I might’ve…”

His words trailed off, replaced with a deep breath as he pulled her in closer, as if making sure she was really there in his arms.

“I think I might’ve felt this way for a really long time.” He ended. Y/N smiled warmly up at him, tilting her head to brush her nose against his own.

“Me too.”

And neither one of them really knew exactly when that could have been. Perhaps it was the very first time they laid eyes on each other. Or during one of their many shared meals as they sat across from one another in comfortable silence. Or the distance that kept them apart by raging seas. Maybe it shifted with the constant storms that would rain down over their house. Or maybe it was written in the stars, destined to happen. Whatever the case, it didn’t really matter to them now as they melted back into each other, lips crashing in a great crescendo portraying exactly the burning passion this island was supposed to be known for.

Their next movements were like a white blinding light as they forged through the front door of their home, shoes left behind,— the excitement that should’ve been present on their wedding night was now following them through the living room and up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s grip on Joel’s hand was strong as she pulled him down the hallway towards the master bedroom, but she still wasn’t strong enough to keep him moving when he stopped abruptly. She turned to face him.

“Wh—?” Her question was interrupted when he pressed her against the wall, his lips finding hers once more. A small squeak of surprise from the young woman was muffled by Joel’s kiss, swallowing it down. His hands were firm on her waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was hot to the touch.

“Joel.” She moaned against his lips, the touch of his thumb rubbing slow circles into her skin sending bolts of electricity straight to her toes.

His name sounding like that coming from her was enough to have Joel’s entire being on fire. He could feel himself harden with every moan she gifted him, as well as his resolve weakening, patience wearing thin.

Shifting his grip, his hands were now clutching at the back of Y/N’s bare thighs (since she had miraculously had the good sense to wear shorts today). On instinct, using the leverage of Joel’s grasp, she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. The momentum of their bodies coming together had Joel stumbling backwards, back hitting the other wall. The artwork hanging on aging nails rattled in their frames, threatening to crash to the floor as they shook from the collision. Neither husband or wife paid this any mind as they clutched onto each other, lips still vehemently attached, moans and grunts being traded within their kiss.

Soon, Joel’s feet were moving once again, carrying Y/N over the threshold of his bedroom. Like a man was supposed to do with his bride, finally given the chance to do so. Though his grip almost slackened when she pulled her lips away from his, replacing them on the skin below his ear. He cursed under his breath as she began to suckle against a sweet spot he never even knew existed.

Against all odds, he made it to the bed, falling backwards against the plush surface, springs squeaking under their combined weight. Y/N was not at all deterred by this new position, her forearms bracing themselves on either side of Joel's head as she kissed her way down his neck, hoping she was even half as good as Joel was at this sort of thing.

She supposed she wasn’t half bad as his breathing was soon labored under the touch of her lips, thick fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt. She smiled against his skin, especially so when she finally lowered her hips down over his own, the sign of his enjoyment pressing harshly into her inner thigh. Y/N rolled her hips into him, hoping for that very same reaction she had gotten the first time she did this. With no surprise at all, she prevailed.

“Shit—.” He hissed, hands darting to grip at her hips. “Wait.”

Somehow he was strong enough to still her movements. Or maybe Y/N couldn’t help but obey the words said by this man. In either case, time began to slow down, their frantic movements ceasing. Y/N pushed up on her hands, sitting back on her heels so that she could meet his gaze. Joel’s hands found their home on the skin of her thighs, thumbs instinctively rubbing those soothing circles once again.

He drew in a breath, staring up at her with soft brown eyes. “Have you ever done this before?”

A shy look flitted across the woman's pretty features, her bashful smile weakened as her bottom lip was tugged between her lips. She shook her head, eyes trained to the top button of Joel’s shirt.

He swallowed against a newly dry throat as he realized she was willing to give him everything. Pink swelling up into his cheeks when his cock convulsed at the thought. Surely she had to have felt that, the gasp slipping from her lips proving that she did.

“I… I don’t wanna rush you into doing anything you’re not ready for.” Joel murmured, “We can take it as slow as you need.”

Y/N offered him a sweet smile at his words, her fingers toying with that button she had her eye on. They were trembling slightly, not out of fear but instead a steady form of anticipation.

“We’ve been married for almost a year now.” She responded, her tone soft. “I think we’ve taken it slow enough.”

“Alright then.” Joel responded in that same tone, a small smile matching her own, his heart lurching at what was to come next.

And he could have easily slipped back into the pace they had set when they had crashed into the room. His desires were certainly begging him to do so. But this was their first time indulging in this act as a married couple— her first time at all. So despite the protests of his aching body, Joel would take his time, offer every part of himself to her and hope she would offer the same.

He smoothed his hand up her thigh, carving his way up to rest his fingers behind her ear, thumb against her cheek. Without much force at all, he guided her gently until their lips were touching once again, this time in a slower kiss. She relaxed against him, chest resting on his. A small whimper escaped the back of her throat at the tenderness of it all.

The small noise spurred Joel into rolling Y/N onto her back, flipping the preexisting roles, covering her with the shadow of his form. His hands were braced on the plush surface beside her head, holding his weight above her. His knee was positioned between her thighs. She was a whimpering mess, grinding up into him, desperate to relieve the ache between her legs. Joel couldn’t help the smirk that appeared over his lips. The bold woman who was kissing down his neck just a mere few minutes ago was long gone. A dark part of him took pleasure at the sight of her like this, desperate for him. It didn’t help how pretty she was splayed underneath him, eyes darkened with lust, bottom lip trembling, hips rutting towards the thigh that was too far away from where she wanted him.

He wouldn’t give it to her. Not yet at least. He was going to take his time. He set his hand against her hip, forcing her to stop her movements, holding her in place.

Lowering himself towards her, he brushed his lips across Y/N’s in a quick kiss. He placed another on the apple of her cheek. Another on her temple. And again at the corner of her mouth. He was moving so slow that she could feel the flutter of his eyelashes tickling her skin. She sighed at each kiss, relishing in his attentiveness.

She was cold when he removed himself from her, standing up at the side of the bed. Even more so when his hands lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Her nipples were pebbled against the white lace of her bra, made more obvious as she leaned up on her elbows. His darkened eyes roamed over her body, no inch left undiscovered. His fingers continued to do their work of revealing more, when he popped open the button of her shorts. The garment soon discarded on the floor with her shirt.

All that she was left in was her undergarments, grateful she had put on a matching set that morning. Joel stood fully clothed in front of her, on unequal ground but somehow the thought excited her. She could feel herself flush behind the skin of her cheeks, turning her head so she could hide behind the back of her hand.

“Don’t hide from me, darlin’” He whispered, catching her in the act, fingers clasping around her wrist. She complied letting the limb fall back to its original position. She dared herself to meet his strong gaze as he continued, another gasp swirling into the air when he spread her thighs, the wetness between her legs more obvious once the cold air contrasted with the heat of her arousal.

“Look at you…” Joel groaned, toying with the hem of her panties where her thigh met her center, the fleeting touch of his fingers causing her hips to twitch up towards him. He watched her restlessness with slight amusement, though he granted her some form of relief as he dipped his pointer finger into her soaked panties. Though he only did so to pull the fabric away from her burning heat, and a second later he let it snap back down, the sound louder than expected as it smacked against her folds.

“Don’t do that.” Y/N whined, squirming under his teasing.

“What? You don’t like it?” He did it again, causing the girl to jolt up further on the bed. She whined once, but she didn’t exactly have any words to argue with him. She sort of did like his teasing. But impatience was taking over her.

“I— I think I’m ready.” She breathed heavily through her nose as his fingers continued to play around with the fabric of her panties.

“Ready?” He questioned, brows furrowed.

“Ready for you to— for your…” She stammered, embarrassment flooding her senses as she couldn’t find how to put it.

“For my cock?” He finished for her. She squeaked at the unexpected harshness of his words, but was pleased by the sharp ache that probed at her core.

“Mhm.” She nodded, shutting her eyes, almost as if bracing herself.

They shot back open at the sound of Joel’s soft laughter filling the room, she was greeted with the sight of his bright smile, his head shaking.

“What?” Y/N asked, slightly perturbed at the fact he was laughing at her. He only shook his head, bending to loop an arm around her waist, shifting her body with ease so that she now lay properly on the bed, head sinking into the plush material of his pillows. She huffed in annoyance, lifting herself up back on her elbows so that he could feel the full force of her glare.

“You’re not even close to ready for me, sweetheart.” He told her, a strong knee propped on the bed. His fingers were working on the buttons of his dark green shirt, revealing a smattering of hair that was once hidden by its confines. Y/N paused as she hungrily drank in the reveal of his skin, but was soon disappointed when he stopped at the third button down. Any complaints she had were lost on her tongue when he swung his other leg onto the bed, trapping the woman between his knees as he sat above her.

He looked like a god in this position. Skin shining under the sunlight that slid into the room in its golden hour, the shadows of his strong features accentuated. She wasn’t sure if she should cower under his might, she was more grateful to be bestowed with this sight of him. Ready to sacrifice anything to him.

“I feel ready.” She murmured up to him, “Want you inside of me, Joel.”

An unanticipated shiver shot up the length of Joel's spine at her admission, his erection growing harsher within the limits of his underwear. He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head as if he had to deliberately make the move to hold himself back.

“I want that too, baby.” He mumbled, shifting to smooth his hands down the expanse of her stomach, needing his hands on her in some shape or form. “But ‘m too big for you.”

“Too big?” Y/N parroted her eyes widening. He nodded.

“Have t’ get you ready for me.” He relayed, “Especially since you’ve never had anythin' up there before.”

“Yes I have.” She countered, her tone becoming more defiant. Joel stilled at her words, knowing that could only mean one thing.

“Your fingers?” He swallowed against the words. Y/N’s shy demeanor returned, she looked away.

“Yes.” She said, her voice small.

Joel held back a groan threatening at the back of his throat, the image of her playing with herself, cumming around her fingers, forcing its way to the forefront of his mind. He could feel as more precum leaked out of his tip, slicking against his skin. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears.

“It’s not gonna be the same.” He strained, shaking his head.

“Will it hurt?”

“A little… at first.” He told her honestly, “That’s why I need you to be ready for me. It’ll hurt you less and I… just wanna make you feel good.”

Y/N softened at the earnest look in Joel’s eyes as he spoke, her heartbeat hammering in her chest with how much care he was providing for her.

“Okay.” She relented, her hands moving up to grasp at the bottom of his shirt, tugging him towards her. He followed her movements with no resistance, leaning down to kiss her, deep and steady.

“Make me feel good then.” She whispered into his lips.

“As you wish.” He replied, in the same hushed tone.

Joel sat back on his heels, admiring her in the golden light for just a second longer before he started. They held each other’s stare, the love they confessed blooming in the air between them, warming their bones, making their hearts beat in time.

His touch was light as he slid her panties down her legs, losing the piece of fabric somewhere on the bed behind him. He placed a featherlight kiss across her collarbone as he unclasped her bra, her back arching into him so he had the room to remove it. He tossed it in the same aimless direction. And when he sat back, she was bare to him.

“Beautiful.” He mumbled, tracing his knuckles down her sternum to her belly button, she shivered under his touch, or maybe from the compliment.

Then he placed himself gently on the pillow beside her. He brought a large hand to her chin, tilting her head to the side so that she’d meet his gaze. Kissing her lips gently, he slid that same hand down the length of her stomach until his fingers were pressing into her pubic mound. He pulled away from her lips, so he could see every little reaction that she had for him.

Her pretty lips fell open when he dipped his fingers lower, collecting the wetness that was pooling at her entrance. He hummed at how wet she was, the slick covering his two fingers when he brought them back up to rub circles into her clit. A moan was instantly pulled from her, her body jolting at the sensation, breasts bouncing as she did. Joel drank in every minute of it.

And once he knew she was completely ready, he finally slipped a finger inside of her.

Y/N sucked in a harsh breath, she wasn’t expecting his finger to feel so large inside of her. But it was nothing to what she had felt before when she tried something like this on her own. She felt so full with just the use of his finger, stretching her out so resolutely, that she wondered how it would feel once it was the real thing. She was whimpering once again due to Joel’s actions, her hands shot up to grasp at Joel’s bicep, his shirt taut over the flexing muscle.

“You want another finger?” He asked into her temple.

“Y-yes.” She breathed, already wanting more from him. And he wasn’t going to deny her of what she wanted. So he added the second finger, the obscene sound of it squelching into the air. He changed the position of his hand, as well, his thumb now prodding at her clit whenever he thrust his hand back into her.

Y/N’s hips moved in time with each of Joel’s movements, even as he sped up, the sound of his palm smacking against her wetness growing louder and louder. Her moans were now tumbling over her tongue at a constant rate, her head thrown back against the pillow.

Joel’s eyes were still watchful over her, he gaped at how beautiful she looked, coming undone with only the use of his fingers. He couldn’t stop from grinding himself into her hip, moving at the same pace as his fingers, too turned on by her to try and hold back.

His own moans were muffled when he started kissing at her neck, and then down the soft flesh of her breasts, until he flicked his tongue over her sensitive nipple.

That was the beginning of Y/N’s breaking point. Him curling his fingers inside of her, probing at a small spongy spot hidden deep inside of her, was the end.

Her orgasm ripped through her like a freight train, her cum splashing itself onto Joel’s palm. Her legs couldn’t stop shaking, even when he pulled his digits out of her. He chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. On instinct she curled into him, fingers clutching at the lapels of his shirt, her body still trembling as she floated back down from the sky.

“How was that?” He questioned, holding her tighter against him. She could feel her own slick on his fingers as they pressed into her lower back.

“Good.” She said into the crook of his neck, voice shaky, earning another laugh from the man.

“We can stop now, if you want.” He told her, lips pressed into her hair.

Y/N pushed against his chest, freeing herself from her previous hiding spot. She looked at him with furrowed brows and found nothing but honesty and adoration flickering across his irises. God, he really would stop for her, if she asked him too. In fact, the look he was giving her told her that he would do anything for her. She let out a frustrated breath, surely he wasn’t so stupid to think that she wouldn’t do the same for him.

“I don’t want to stop.” She said, genuine with her words. Maybe a bit too forceful as she sat up.

“O-okay.” Joel relinquished, eyes wide at her eagerness, following her in the action of sitting up, his back now straightened.

“It’s slightly unfair, you know.” Y/N then said, placing a hand to the center of his chest, pushing lightly so that he would rest against the headboard. There was no resistance, he did as she said.

“What is?” Joel inquired, his breathing quickening as Y/N sat on her knees beside his hip. His eyes were trained to the crease between her thigh and waist, relishing in her every curve. It was a cruel reminder of his hardened cock trapped in his pants, twitching at the sight. He didn’t even notice as her hands started to unbutton his shirt. That was until she started kissing at each newly revealed piece of skin. He sucked in a harsh breath at the touch of her lips.

“You always get to see me like that.” She said between kisses. And he could’ve argued that it had only ever been twice, but he didn’t want to know what would happen if he interrupted her wrath. “And yet you always hide from me.”

“I don’t hide from you.” Joel countered, his knuckles white from his grip on the sheets beneath him. “You’re just not the opportunist like I am.”

A surge of pride spread out under Joel’s skin as Y/N’s sweet laughter bubbled into the air. The sound of it doing as much to him as her moans did. He loved hearing her laugh. Like it was proof that she was actually happy with him. Though he supposed the proof was right in front of him, as she continued to leave loving kisses across his chest.

Joel’s shirt was finally discarded, granting Y/N the sight she had been desperate to see for so long. A beauty to behold. He wasn’t exactly all hard lines and jagged edges. But he was strong and large, and soft in the places he needed to be. His skin was tanned and taut over muscles that could only be carved by the waves of a raging sea. But there were scars left behind, probably a result of tragedies endured on his countless journeys. Y/N left a soft kiss over each one.

And then her hands were soon preoccupied by a new task, the metal parts of his belt clanking against each other as she removed the constriction.

Joel waited with bated breath. He had to force himself not to ask if she was really sure about this. Because if she wasn’t, she definitely would not be slowly sliding open the zipper to his pants. Or then tugging them down his thick thighs, revealing the black fabric of his boxer briefs. And she definitely would not now be palming at the bulge between his legs. Which she was.

A groan fell from his lips once she had her hand squeezing at his erection. His hips jutted forward into her palm, his need for her touch too obvious for his own good. His eyes flickered up to find a look of pure wonder on the woman’s features, maybe she was surprised she could elicit such reactions from him.

“Feel’s s’ good, baby.” He reassured, the words falling from his lips between soft grunts of pleasure. Y/N’s eyes snapped up to meet his. He stared back, lids hooded over darkened eyes overblown with lust. His hips were now rolling up into her hand, over and over, unable to stop.

“Really?” She squeaked.

“Yeah.” He grunted out, any coherent sentences lost to him as lust overtook him. Especially when her fingers hooked around the hem of his underpants, pushing them down to follow the path of his pants.

He gasped when the cold air hit his burning erection.

She gasped at the sight of it.

His cock sprang up once it was finally free from its confines, the tip hitting his lower belly, leaving behind a splotch of precum against his skin. And Joel was right… he was big. It was thick, just like the rest of him, with protruding veins running up the side. The head of it was red and angry, shining with the proof of his arousal.

And surprisingly, despite the aggressive look of his erection, the woman wasn’t scared like she thought she’d be. Instead she was drawn to it. Drawn to him. Because she was drawn to every part of him. So there was no time wasted when her smaller hand wrapped around his length.

Joel cursed under his breath, head falling back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just the touch of her hand already had him weak, ready to unravel. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last once he finally felt the tight confines of her cunt fluttering around him. So for now he enjoyed the soft touch of her hand, closing his eyes as her thumb spread his precum over the tip with gentle touches.

She was slow with her movements, which was alright by Joel. It granted him time to breathe, as well as the fact that this was the first time she’s ever done anything like this. He didn't need to move any faster than this if she didn't want to. His arousal sat low in his belly, happily waiting in the anticipation.

Though, his blood spiked when he felt the wet touch of her tongue against the head of his cock.

“W-what are you doin’?” He asked, head snapping up to find her crouched down at his waist, hands splayed out on his thighs. She looked up at him through her lashes, tongue still unyielding against him. It was a sight he had dreamt about and longed for, but he never expected her to do anything like this tonight.

“You did this for me, right?” Y/N said between the tiny kitten licks she administered, “‘m only returning the favor.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He replied, shaking his head slightly. He brought a hand to her jawline, ready to pull her away from his erection, “You don’t owe me anythin’.”

“Okay… Well then it’s because I want to.” She countered, ignoring the presence of his hand and dipping her head downwards again. This time she wrapped her moistened lips over the entire tip.

“Fuck.” He hissed into the air, his hand moving from her cheek to her hair. He tried to be gentle with his grip, knowing she was new to all of this, but it was increasingly difficult to do so. Especially when she hummed in pleasure around his cock, seemingly relishing in the slight pain of having her hair pulled. She swirled her tongue around him, pulling a stuttering whimper from his lips.

She looked up at him at the sound. His head was thrown back once again, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, he was breathing harshly through his nose, his handsome features twisted with euphoria. And it was all because of her.

Y/N felt as more wetness pooled between her legs and dripped down her inner thighs, she squirmed slightly as her arousal increased once again. As it turned out, she seemed to like having Joel like this, writhing under her in immense pleasure, whimpering from the touch of her tongue. She wondered if this is how he felt when he did the same thing to her. If he was this hard in her mouth because he gained pleasure from her pleasure. The thought spurred her on, moving her mouth further down his length.

Another deep groan rumbled out from his chest, eliciting a sound of affirmation from the woman, the vibration of her vocal chords shooting electricity through his body. He glanced back down at her, watching as she took him in as deep as she could.

“God, you look s’ pretty like that.”

And she did. Her mouth around his rigid cock, tears filling her eyes as he pushed deeper down her throat, her pupils blown out with need for him. He could cum to that sight. No— he was going to cum at the sight. He could feel the coil deep in his core about to snap as she continued. But he wasn’t going to let it end here.

“W-wait. Please, darlin’, you have to stop.” Joel said softly, as he gently pulled her off of him, Y/N’s features held a look of confusion and disappointment.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked as he pulled her into his lap, his burning shaft now pressing nicely against the curve of her backside. He could feel how wet she was as she pressed her center into his lower abdomen, soaking the coarse hair spattered across the skin there.

“No.” He shook his head, “No, you were absolutely perfect, sweetheart. I just… I want to be inside you before I finish.”

“Oh.” Y/N smiled shyly, her head dipping down in slight embarrassment. “Okay.”

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” He asked tenderly, placing kisses onto her cheeks. She closed her eyes against his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding her head.

Soon she was on her back, head surrounded by Joel’s fluffy pillows. The sun had slowly dipped further down towards the horizon, only leaving a little bit of light left in the room. It was soft and gentle, caressing the two of them in dimming shades of blue. Joel braced himself over her, bicep flexing when he lowered himself to leave a kiss against her lips.

“I’ll start slow.” He whispered to her afterwards, leaning his forehead onto hers, a large hand smoothing over her outer thigh. The pressure of his fingertips were somehow soft within his guiding grasp, positioning her leg over his hip. A shock of pleasure erupted in Y/N’s core as she felt the length of Joel’s cock nestle in between her folds at this new position. Joel’s shoulders trembled, breathing growing heavy, his reaction to the same thing.

Y/N’s own breath hitched in her throat as Joel’s hands snaked between them. He wrapped his calloused fingers around his shaft, guiding the tip through Y/N’s slit and brushing it lightly against her clit. Simultaneous gasps intermingled in the air between their lips as they relished in the sensation.

“Joel.” Y/N whimpered, the unsaid words begging for more. He only nodded in return, his attention locked on the space between their hips, slowly growing smaller as he finally pushed the head of his cock inside of her.

Y/N could immediately tell the difference between this and his fingers. Before was barely anything compared to this. Now she was finally full, finally complete. And it was only the beginning as Joel slowly pushed himself deeper.

She whined at the stretch of him, fingernails scratching over his back. Joel wasn’t any better, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, releasing the most sinful of moans as he was slowly sucked in by her tight, wet warmth. The feel of her around him was more incredible than he imagined. So much so that he pushed in faster than intended, earning a sharp gasp from the woman beneath him. He stilled, immediately.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling away from her neck to gauge her true reaction. Her eyes were shut, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“‘m alright.” She replied, her heavy breathing causing her sensitive nipples to brush against Joel's chest, another spark of arousal surged through her bones. Another harsh moan was released from the man above her.

“Shit— baby, don’t do that.” He gritted his teeth.

Unknown to Y/N, when that bout of pleasure had traveled the length of her body, she had clenched around him at the sensation. The instance of which made Joel feel as though he might burst into flames. His cock jerked inside of her, the coil returning, slowly starting to unravel.

“Think you can take any more?” Joel questioned, once he could calm his beating heart as much as he could have.

“There’s more?” She stammered, confused since she already felt so full.

“Y-yeah there’s more.” Joel told her, trying his hardest not to move an inch, the task becoming increasingly difficult. Y/N released a shuddering breath.

“Yeah.” She nodded, “I can take it.”

“That’s my girl.” Joel chuckled airily, the affirmation causing a nice pool of warmth to settle in Y/N’s belly. But the feeling was soon replaced by the head of Joel’s cock as it moved deeper inside of her, the length of him making her believe he was truly proding into her stomach.

Slowly but surely the rest of him was sheathed inside of her, proven by the soft tickle of his pubic hair against her inner thighs. Joel let himself rest inside of her, allowing her to adjust to his size, his breathing deep and heavy as her walls squeezed around his cock.

She started squirming beneath him, desperate for him to do more.

“Please Joel.” She whimpered, “Move.”

“You want me to move, sweetheart?” He murmured, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth, her desperation causing something wicked within him to start teasing.

“Y-yes please, Joel. I need you.” She breathed, squeezing around him again. “Want you to fuck me.”

Joel’s entire body lurched at the words that slipped from her tongue. His heart hammering against his ribcage as it was completely unexpected. It caught him off guard, but he regained his bearings quickly, shaking free from the surprise as he took enjoyment from her dirty language.

“You do, huh?” He mumbled back, feeling her nod into his shoulder. “Is that what you want? For me t’ fuck you?”

“Yes.” She whined, a bit impatiently, more soft chuckles tumbled out of his lips.

“Okay, sweetheart.” He answered, “Anythin’ for you.”

And then he started moving. Slowly, so torturously slowly, sliding out until it was just his head that was left inside of her. Then, just as slowly he would sink all the way back in. He did that over and over again, causing an onslaught of pleasure to rip through the girl as the grooves of his cock carved into her walls so deliciously. She was a mess beneath him, shuddering and gasping with each slow movement he made.

Y/N arched into him, hands grasping at his back as he dipped his head, placing a kiss to her shoulder, moaning softly into her skin. Pleasure radiated throughout her body at every point of contact his skin had with hers, burning the brightest where the two of them connected. Even more so as Joel started to gradually speed up, still making long deep thrusts, but a little faster each time.

The bed started creaking beneath them, mixing in with the sound of their sensual moans as well as their skin slapping together in time with Joel’s thrusts. A cacophony of pleasure swirling around the room and serenading this moment as they finally connected in the way they always wanted to.

The sting of Joel’s size was now long forgotten as Y/N savored in the pleasure of him. Her arms were wound tightly around his neck, holding his head into her shoulder. She could feel his lips pressing into her skin, leaving deliberate kisses after each thrust. Her legs soon followed the same pattern as her arms, looping around his waist, pulling his body in close. Now there was no part of them left untouching.

His own arm soon snaked around her waist, drawing her in even closer if that was possible, her clit now firmly pressed against his pelvic bone. Y/N threw her head back with a deep moan, Joel’s lips attaching to her neck in record time. The heat low in her stomach returned from before, signifying that everything soon would come crashing down in a crescendo.

Joel’s cock twitched inside of her as he felt her walls fluttering around him. His own impending orgasm weighing heavy in his chest. He pulled his lips away from her skin.

“Look at me.” He said softly, despite the fact that his thrusts became sloppier by the second, his pace staggering as he involuntarily thrusted harder inside of her.

Y/N— despite struggling under the onslaught of her own oncoming orgasm, opened her eyes for him, meeting his soft brown gaze as they chased their highs. It was strange to see that gaze in this context, especially since the first time she saw it she would have never guessed this is where it would bring her. But now that she was here she couldn’t ask for anything she wanted more.

Except for one thing.

“Kiss me.” She said in return, and since Joel couldn’t deny her of anything, he did just that, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss. The touch of it sending Y/N over the edge.

Joel felt as she came around his cock, squeezing onto him like a velvet vice, her cum gushing out around the base of him, soaking his skin. He moaned deep and heavy at the sensation, his own orgasm on the precipice. He placed his thumb on Y/N’s clit— hoping that will be enough to help her down from her high— as he pulled himself out of her.

He grunted with each spurt of cum splattering itself onto Y/N’s stomach, his free hand tight around his shaft, the length of it jerking in his hand. His thighs tensed as his orgasm shot out from his hips, shoulders trembling from the pleasure of it all, his heart racing.

Then, as the euphoria began to fade, his legs were weak as he sat back on his knees, chest heaving as he looked down at the mess he made on his beautiful wife.

His cum was shining white against her skin, the gleam of it reflecting in the moonlight as her stomach moved up and down with each passing of her shallow breaths. Her limbs were limp against the mattress, eyes hooded as exhaustion took over her form. He smiled softly at the sight of her, sliding a hand underneath her to bring her up to his level. He pulled her into his lap, holding her flush against his chest— not caring that his cum was now smeared across his own stomach.

“You did so well, sweetheart.” He whispered to her, stroking his knuckles across her cheekbone, she leaned into his touch, humming in content. Joel leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead.

They sat like that for a minute, savoring the silence between them and the embrace of their lover. But it didn't last too long as Joel spoke once more.

“Come on.” He abruptly said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, taking Y/N with him as he did. She whined when she realized she was being pulled away from the comfort of a warm bed.

“What? Why? I wanna sleep.” She argued when her feet hit the wooden floor beside his own, moving to dive back under the covers. He caught hold of her before she could.

“We gotta wash up.” Joel countered, pulling her towards the door that sat in the corner of the room, the mystery (that was not so mysterious) soon to be revealed.

“And then we can go to bed?” She questioned, as her shaking legs became more willing to follow him

“Not quite.” Joel grinned, guiding her into the shower. When she offered him a look of confusion at his words, he answered the question written on her face.

“We still have to make dinner.”

And soon, after all the proof of their passion was washed clean from their skin, underneath swirling puffs of cedar-scented steam and occasionally interrupted by stolen kisses, the two of them made their way down to their kitchen. And an hour later, as they sat across the table from one another, under the golden glow of their kitchen light. They divulged in their carefully prepared meal, sharing shy smiles and fleeting glances between each bite. The sight of them alone contradicting any statement that the island they resided on didn’t live up to its name.

~~~

A/N: honestly this fic was born because of the smut scene in the kitchen, i can't lie 😩 and then i rewatched the music video for adore you by harry styles so i wanted this oneshot to be something romantic and whimsical in it's nature, so i hope that came across. Is it corny? yes! but I had so much fun writing this so i hope you had fun too!!! thank you so much for taking the time to read my work !! and now i'll be leaving, goodbye forever!! <33

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chrollogy · 5 months ago

Text

v. MISUNDERSTANDINGS

miya atsumu x f!reader

series masterlist

synopsis: A drunken conversation with Atsumu leads to a cascade of events that has your mind practically exploding with endless questions, and with the way Atsumu has been acting, you want clear answers, and you’ll get them one way or another—even if it meant arguing in the twins’ shared apartment on a late Thursday afternoon.

chapter content warning: college au, mentions of alcohol use, intoxicated characters, cockblocker suna (rip), angst, hurt/comfort, awkward tension, atsumu & reader are dumbasses, arguing, light smut (mdni; nothing too explicit), nsfw, implied unprotected s*x, fluff towards the end yay, kita graduates from uni!, mutual pining, slow burn, requited unrequited love, friends to lovers, not beta read.

word count: 6.1k

notes: AAACKKKK last chapter!! also happy 1 month to this series !! i’m surprised i got to finish this in less than 2 months lmao considering how slow i am w writing :< divider: cafekitsune.

Light. Everything felt light—your head, body, voice, heart.

It felt like all the weight of your shoulders had been lifted, and you could be as carefree as a bird soaring through cerulean skies to be one with the wind. Because right this very moment, nothing mattered at all, not even the fact that you stood before the person you’ve been trying to avoid since the new year rolled around.

Tucked neatly at the back of your mind like a silent reminder, you knew you shouldn’t trust your intoxicated self right now—whether it be your thoughts or feelings but the urge to stop wasn’t there, and you felt extremely optimistic about this—all thanks to the burning alcohol that clouded every bit of your judgement.

Everything felt right.

As you met his caramel gaze, your vision tunnelled, everyone, and everything that surrounded both of you slowly turned into nothing but a mix of hazy hues, upbeat music that spilled from the speakers fading into the distance as you, and Atsumu entered your own world—even the orange-haired male with the bright, doe eyes melted away from your view.

Just you, and Atsumu, exactly how it was supposed to be.

With a bated breath, Atsumu wordlessly nodded, and awaited your next move, as if shackled in a hazy trance. He was fully aware of the thundering heartbeat that rang in his ears, the way his slender fingers ever so slightly dug into the scarlet plastic cup in his hand, cheeks burning with unexplainable emotions.

“Let’s talk somewhere else.”

It took all the effort for Atsumu to ignore the feeling of your bare skin against his, the searing touch of your fingers around his wrist as you hurriedly whisked him away into the intimate space of their kitchen, as if to shield you both from everyone else’s prying eyes. Despite a stained judgement, the blonde was sure no one gave a single damn if you were to talk it out in the living room, everyone was in their own buzz anyway.

Nonetheless, Atsumu let you take the lead, whatever you wanted, he obliged. As though he was floating on cloud nine, his body became lighter with each step taken, head lightly spinning, warmth that radiated from your palm seeped into his flushed skin, prickly, miniature kisses engulfing his body.

“I’m okay now.” Resting your lower back against the ivory granite countertops, you stare up at Atsumu through your lashes, not noticing your lingering fingers curled around his wrist. For a brief moment, your breath hitched, stomach churning at the sight before you. The lighting behind Atsumu made him look like absolute heaven, flaxen strands glowing like the first rays beneath the warm illuminant, casting an ethereal halo at the back of his head. It didn’t help how he stared down as if your eyes held the cosmos in them, completely awestruck.

Whatever, you chalked it up to his intoxicated state. What else could it have been?

For a brief moment, Atsumu wracked his brain for context behind your words, and as the invisible lightbulb atop his head switched on, he was reminded of the situation at hand. It definitely pulled his consciousness into sobriety. Just a tad bit.

“A-are y’sure?” A breathless, almost dainty whisper slipped past his rosy lips. He took note of the way your gaze shifted ever so slightly downwards, eyes crudely lingering on the plush of his bottom lip as his tongue briefly swiped against it.

Atsumu’s Adam’s apple bobbed at your not-so-subtle stare, stomach churning with want. He knew this feeling all too well—it visited him whenever he was alone in his room, mind wandering over to thoughts of you which filled every corner of his mind; sometimes the feeling was too strong, other times he could bear it. Tonight, though, Atsumu wasn’t sure if he was immune to this feeling, let alone erase any impulsive thoughts from his intoxicated mind.

What pulled you into this decision was something you’d never figure out; maybe it was the fact that your yearning heart grew tired of the icy distance between the two of you or maybe you’ve truly come to terms with his unreciprocated feelings—you didn’t know. All you knew was that nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations, especially when it involved feelings. But this could be an exception, right?

“So . . Does that mean we can be friends again?”

It was weird. Atsumu’s voice brimmed with a sense of hope—as if he’s been waiting for this very moment for the past two weeks—but the strange glint in his caramel eyes betrayed the blonde entirely.

Despite your better judgement, you chalked it up to the warm light that casted a soft shadow upon his features; maybe you were too dizzy to see things clearly, or maybe you were looking too deep into Atsumu’s expression—hoping to find some sort of sadness upon hearing your decision to move on, and accept his rejection.

Atsumu watched as your eyes traced his features, closely observing them as if to find some kind of answer; as selfish as it seemed, the intensity in your eyes gave him a tinge of hope that perhaps you could let yourself pine over him just a little longer because he wasn’t sure what he’d do with the knowledge that your heart would no longer yearn for him.

The situation was a double-edged sword, really.

You let out a puff of breath, “Yeah, of course. We’re friends again.” Friends. That word should have given you more relief than sorrow but could you really blame yourself? It felt like a bitter reminder of cold rejection which resembled salt pressed against an unhealed wound, a searing itch that left your skin feverish.

Even if it meant selling yourself short.

Avoiding his eye contact, you swiftly unwound your fingers from his wrist, mentally cursing yourself for not noticing any sooner. A cold embrace engulfed Atsumu’s wrist, where your fingers were mere seconds ago, he tried his best to ignore how his body yearned for your warmth. He gave a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

For a moment, you stood in each other’s silence like two predators sizing up one another, eagerly waiting for one’s move before pouncing, the silent hum of the fridge making up for the lack of conversation between one another.

How strange, this agreement should have cleared the unsettled air between you, and Atsumu but why did it feel like the complete opposite? As if the air turned into something more uncertain. You both knew you could feel the uncanny tension rising up, up, up but not one dared to address it.

Swiftly burying it under the rug, Atsumu spoke, thinly slicing through your trance, “You’ll find someone better.”

God, he must’ve really matured this new year because he didn’t know how he was able to say that straight to your face. Being one to wear his heart on his sleeve, this was completely foreign for Atsumu—or maybe he just got better at masking his true emotions.

You closed your eyes upon hearing his response, as if doing so would help you brave the weight of his words. It didn’t. That was the last thing you wanted Atsumu to say to you, ‘someone better’, it was brazen of him to think so poorly of himself, as though he wasn’t that certain someone. It was entirely unfair on your end because who was Atsumu to determine which person was for you?

Even just thinking about it had you fuming, rejection was one thing but completely disregarding the reason behind your feelings for him was another because in your eyes, Miya Atsumu was that ‘someone better’; he was the one who understood you the most, the one who always looked out for you, the one you fucking wanted.

And despite your mind telling you to nod along, and suck it up, the alcohol in your body was stronger; so, you opened your eyes, and furrowed your brows at him,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“But I don’t want anyone better, Tsumu. I want you.”

Atsumu’s eyes widened, the desperation in your voice was something he hadn't heard before, it definitely pulled at his heart, guilt gnawing at his skin for being the sole reason for your drunken actions. He may be drunk but he wasn’t stupid, Atsumu knew you should’ve kept that one to yourself, he could practically see you brimming with temerity but he’d be lying to himself if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat or two.

I want you, too. God, he wanted to say it back badly. The words were lodged in his throat, unable to slip past his lips despite the best efforts to do so.

It dawned on him—right then, and there—the severity of your feelings for him, the immense weight of it. Now, guilt really ate him away; he could only imagine how the past two weeks were for you. Did you cry while thinking about him?

That was the last thing Atsumu wanted.

Though, amidst the guilt, something else blossomed in his chest, it made him feel like he stood upon the highest pedestal. Atsumu didn’t know whether it was pride or greed; as fucked up as it was, he couldn’t bring himself to push the impulsiveness away as though you’ve infected him with your own. His heart hammered at a thought that formed in his mind, even just thinking about it stirred his chest.

Despite Atsumu’s better judgement, he held onto the feeling with a tight grip, and opened his mouth, tongue nervously swiping at the bottom lip,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“Is . . Is it bad that I really want to kiss you right now?”

You sucked in a breath, heart pounding at Atsumu’s sudden confession. If you were sober, you’d have a million thoughts racing through your mind right now, questioning the feelings he really had for you but unfortunately, only one thing was on your mind—how badly you wanted to kiss Atsumu too.

Dragging yourself further down, down, down the void of uncertainty, you shook your head in a daze,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“What if I say I want to kiss you, too?”

Barely audible but Atsumu heard it just fine over the pounding of his heart, over the incoherent conversations beyond this kitchen, over the muted bass music because as long as it's you, he’d always listen, even if it meant drowning out the entire world.

Then, there was a heartbeat, a passing second, a dip of a finger to test undisturbed waters; the funny thing was that even a minute disturbance could cause a ripple effect for miles, and miles, awakening the dormant creatures that lay beyond the azure surface.

It was swift, as though Atsumu had been waiting for this very moment to happen—one second you were locked in a trance, the next his lips were pressed against your own, a shared warmth of intimacy searing both bodies in an eternal blaze like a blue flame that dangerously destroyed everything in its path.

Shy. Warm. Soft. Rosy. Like it was meant to be. The list could go on, and on but it was as though your thoughts came quickly before your mind could register them, leaving you in a white, empty haze. With the plastic cups long forgotten on the counter behind, you closed your eyes as Atsumu’s body eagerly pressed against yours, strong arms coming up to rest on the granite countertop behind you, fingers digging into the material to ground himself.

For a moment, everything was still, lips unmoving against each other, a time to bask in this newfound intimacy—the foreignness of one another’s body. The earth felt like it spun on its axis way faster than usual, as if day, and night merged to become one; hues of late dusk, and early dawn intertwined like your bodies.

Bitterness from Atsumu’s rosy lips lingered on your own; you never liked the taste of beer but oddly enough, you didn’t mind it at all.

Your hands cupped Atsumu’s jaw, fingers gently digging onto his soft skin, eager for more as your lips moulded together. Slowly moving his mouth against your own, you followed suit to match the sensual pace he had set, falling deeper, and deeper between the hazy boundaries of friendship, and something a little more. Low whimpers slipped past between each feverish kiss as a drunken greed gradually controlled your bodies.

The initial softness of the kiss dissipated as each second passed, slowly turning into something more carnal, and passionate—breaths becoming heavier, and faces eagerly pressed against one another, angled in a way to grant more access.

Was this what cloud nine felt like? Exhilarating? Euphoric? As though there was no one else—

“Oh!—Holy shit. Did I interrupt?”

A familiar voice violently pulled you, and Atsumu back into reality, swiftly jumping away from each other’s hold, and looking over to the owner of the voice. Suna. The brunette stared at both of you—looking like a deer caught in headlights, chests heaving—his expression was unreadable, almost like a mix of shock, and amusement. You, and Atsumu kissing in the kitchen was absolutely not in his new year bingo card.

Well, this encounter certainly was enough to strip you into sobriety.

Your head spun a little, lungs severely deprived of oxygen. Shame, and realisation settled deep in your bones—shame because Suna just caught you, and Atsumu almost sucking the soul out of each other, and realisation because everything about this whole situation was so wrong; a million questions formulated in your mind as each awkward second passed.

On the other hand, Atsumu was equally as horrified, albeit annoyed that he didn’t have the chance to kiss you longer. The thrumming of his heart pounded in his ears, his mind trying to come up with anything to say just to stop the thoughts formulating in Suna’s mind—oh, he knows that look on his friend’s face very well.

Your view became obstructed by the expanse of Atsumu’s back, a subtle attempt to block you from the brunette’s gaze.

“W-what the hell, Suna?! Don’t jus’ barge into the kitchen, ya scrub!” Atsumu tried his best to act tough but miserably failed with the shakiness in his voice betraying him.

As if to make matters worse, Suna didn’t back down, a smug look painted on his flushed face as the blonde shamelessly blamed him,

“Well, how was I supposed to know that you two were sucking each other’s faces in the kitchen?!”

Did he have to word it like that?

Atsumu opened, and closed his mouth, trying to think of ways to deny Suna’s accusations but his mind went blank, even with just the brunette mentioning your kiss had him blushing like a mad man. Silence yet again occupied the kitchen, low bass music spilled from the speakers, and incoherent chatters from beyond the space making up for the lack of conversation.

Before the situation could get even more awkward, you spoke up, “I . . think I’m just going to go . . ” This gained both their attention, carefully watching as you navigated past Atsumu, and out the kitchen.

The blonde watched as you staggered past him, and Suna; he wanted to go after you, and talk about what just happened but the soles of his feet stayed rooted on the ground, too heavy to lift, even the words he wanted to say were lodged in his throat.

So, Atsumu decided it was best to let you go.

Monday.

Everyone’s enemy but also a day to gather around the campus coffee shop with friends, and be productive for a while. The calming aroma of coffee engulfed your senses; low chatter from other customers, faint jazz music, and the occasional hum of the coffee machine filled the table from the lack of conversation. Despite the café’s light ambience, it didn’t do much to hide the growing tension that surrounded the group, specifically you, Atsumu, and Suna.

Kita was the first to notice the subtle shift of aura that emanated from you three, especially after catching a glimpse of Suna’s narrow eyes trailing from you to Atsumu over his laptop screen; though, he had much more things to worry about than to indulge himself in whatever tomfoolery this was. He’d ask questions later.

On the other hand, Osamu was more than curious, especially after his older twin started acting out of character—Atsumu wasn’t one to engulf himself in thoughts to the point where he’d be staring at an inanimate object, in a complete daze but lately, Osamu has seen him behave as such.

The latter could practically feel the weight of awkwardness pressing against his skin as he subtly watched the three of you. Of course, he did his best to pry off information from the blonde only to no avail; Osamu didn’t know why Suna was even caught up in this but he suspected it was from the party a few days ago.

He remembered seeing you stumble out of the kitchen when he was on his way to grab more drinks from their fridge, the younger twin thought nothing of it until he was met with Suna, and Atsumu awkwardly standing in the kitchen. Normally, Osamu would’ve asked questions that night but the alcohol in him couldn’t care less about the situation.

Staring at the untouched document pulled up on your laptop, you ducked behind your screen to avoid Suna’s wandering gaze, and Osamu’s not-so-subtle curiosity. This was hell. You didn’t even know why you decided to turn up today after that shit show at the party—maybe because you thought you could shove down that memory especially after telling Atsumu that you were fine or maybe you craved the closeness you two once had, and now you were here to rebuild that.

As easy as it sounded, you feared it might not be so with the way Atsumu has been avoiding you like the plague. First, it started when you walked into the café at the same time as the twins, Osamu greeted you at the door before heading inside leaving you, and Atsumu outside. Now, that would’ve been fine if the latter didn’t make a show of taking a couple of steps back to let you go first as though you carried some kind of incurable disease.

The second time was when Atsumu realised the only vacant seat was next to your own, thus, asking to swap with Osamu just so he could sit farthest away from you. And the third was when you had asked him if he was alright while waiting in line to order only to be met with a mindless nod before returning to his phone in his hand.

You tried your very best to ignore the blooming pain in your chest; sure, being sad about Atsumu possibly avoiding you was reasonable but then again, you were the one who told him you were okay now—how Atsumu decided to act after the party was beyond your control.

God but it pissed you off. Swallowing one’s pride, and making effort to rekindle a cold friendship was not an easy feat when the other doesn’t do the same. It shouldn’t work you up this much but it did, and now you were second guessing yourself that maybe it was an irrational decision to abruptly tell Atsumu that you’ve come to terms with moving on.

That night at the party, were you lying to yourself just so you could be around him again?

Whatever. It was too late to take it back anyway.

The days ahead were monotonous, and boring; you, and Atsumu remained orbiting around one another, careful not to get into each other’s path of trajectory but it was tiring. Not only did it feel like navigating through eggshells while he was around but the constant questions from your friends tested your limits. Though, it wasn’t their fault for simply being curious, and getting left in the dark about the whole situation but the prying felt like endless jabs of sharp needles along your skin.

From their point of view, you, and Atsumu were stubborn about the whole situation. None dared to speak up about it, acting as though everything was fine, so your friends were left with very little to work with.

It felt like a game of cat, and mouse where you were the feline chasing Atsumu around. The longer the days dragged on, the more thoughts formulated in your mind, and they all involved the blonde in some way or another. And just like everyone else, you had your limits too; you were tired of Atsumu acting like a stubborn idiot.

When you confessed to Atsumu, sure, you expected an awkward phase but this was even worse. There wasn’t just distance between the two of you, it felt like you were strangers.

He was known for brashly saying the sharp truth, so why couldn’t he be straightforward with you? Was he disgusted by the kiss, and deeply regretted it? Did he think you were weird? You didn’t know, but you were bound to find out even if it meant knocking at the twin’s apartment door at 5:45 PM on a cold, rainy Thursday.

With the sun hidden behind the looming grey clouds, the late winter afternoon was even darker; the roads were packed with vehicles while the sidewalks occupied students, and company workers alike trying their best to shield themselves from the heavy downpour. Despite the streets being illuminated with a tinge of warm yellow from cars, and streetlights, it did nothing to brighten up the gloomy day.

Funny, it was as though the universe knew how you felt today.

“If yer lookin’ for ‘Samu, he won’t be back until 8 PM.” Greeted with Atsumu’s shocked face as the ivory door to their apartment opened, you couldn’t help but visibly roll your eyes at his stubbornness. Yeah, like you’d be here at their apartment looking for Osamu—you knew each of their timetables like the back of your hand.

Flaxen strands that sat atop his head were unruly, a sign that he must’ve been taking a nap sometime ago. Atsumu donned a light blue hoodie paired with black sweats; you tried your best not to ogle the man, after all, you were here for a sensible talk.

“I’m here for you, Miya.”

Atsumu gripped the metal handle a little tighter, the coolness of it seeping into the warmth of his skin. He tried not to flinch at the sudden formality of the conversation. Nonetheless, the blonde pulled the door wider, a wordless invite to their humble space. Giving him a small smile before walking inside, you tried not to think about the last time you were here, and how you found yourself drunkenly kissing Atsumu in their kitchen.

The sound of the door closing shut behind Atsumu reverberated throughout the walls of their apartment, followed by a deafening silence. Met with his honeyed stare, you awkwardly coughed, and played with the hem of your jacket, “I’m not going to take up too much of your time . . but I do just have one question.”

There was a momentary silence as Atsumu waited for you to proceed; he had so many questions running through his mind right now, and it took all his willpower to hold them back, and let you speak instead. It was getting harder, and harder to focus as each second passed with the pounding of his heart—Atsumu didn’t know what to expect.

“Did you—Did you regret that kiss . . ?”

Your skin burned as the question lingered in the air, a beat or two before Atsumu finally spoke up, “. . N-no, why’d ya ask?”

Sighing, impatience prickled your feverish skin. ‘Why’d you ask?’ What the hell does he mean by why would I ask? We made out for fuck sake, that’s something friends don’t do! Why is he acting so casual about it?

“God, this just made it a lot worse. I have so many fucking questions that my mind wants to explode right now,” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you slowly paced back, and forth, the floors beneath silently creaking with each step. So, Atsumu didn’t regret the kiss but he’s acting like you’re strangers—fucking hell, why did he even kiss you in the first place?!

Your mind was a complete mess.

Trying to calm yourself down with slow, deep breaths, you decided to address the elephant in the room first, “Then why have you been avoiding me, Atsumu?—I’m sorry but I’m the one who got rejected, I cannot think of any reason why you should be avoiding me like this.” Atsumu hated that look on your face—the desperation, the sadness, the frustration. He never thought that he’d be the one making you feel all these negative emotions, and it pained him as much as it pained you.

Atsumu let out a sigh, carefully formulating the right words into a coherent sentence, “I’m just . . trying to be careful, okay?” His stomach dropped as your face contorted with more confusion.

Did he say something wrong?

“Careful about what, Atsumu?! You—ugh! It’s so hard to talk to you when you’re giving me all these stupidly vague answers! I’ve already told you I was fine. I don’t care anymore that you don’t like me back. I just want us to be back to normal again.”

Now, it was Atsumu’s turn to be upset. He couldn’t bear the thought of you moving on so quickly, and that’s why he’s been acting distant lately; it annoyed him how easy it was for you to talk to him like nothing happened but Atsumu knew he couldn’t tell you the reason—why couldn’t you just try, and understand his situation? Rejecting wasn’t an easy task to do, especially if it was the person he had been hopelessly pining for.

“Well—maybe things aren’t meant ta back ta normal!”

What?

You stared at him for a second, brows furrowed as you tried to comprehend his words that lingered in the cold air of their apartment. Silence engulfed the two of you, the distant sounds of Hyōgo’s late afternoon rain seeping through the slightly opened window.

“Do you feel uncomfortable around me after knowing the fact that I have feelings for you? Is that it?” “God, no—I could never feel that way.”

It took all of Atsumu’s patience not to wrap his arms around you—he wanted to hold you against him badly; that defeated look on your face broke his heart but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Maybe Atsumu was the coward after all.

“Then tell me what’s wrong, ‘Tsumu!”

“It’s hard f’me as well, y’know?!” “What is?”

Atsumu closed his eyes, the words he’s been wanting to scream at the top of his lungs lodged in his throat, threatening to slip out. A wave of adrenaline rush coursed through his veins, heart pounding like crazy with this newfound high, it made him feel as though he was invincible—as if he could say anything, and everything without a care for its consequences.

Fuck it.

“Fuck—It’s because I like ya back, okay?! I always have! And rejectin’ ya was so goddamn hard f’me because I’m still not over ya. God, I think about ya every single second, and it pains me so much because yer already movin’ on, and ‘m still stuck here.”

What?

Flabbergasted, you stared at Atsumu all wide-eyed, the thrumming of your heart becoming increasingly loud against your ears as each slow second passed. Did he just say he liked you back? As though mother nature was watching, the rain outside poured harder; sounds of droplets of heavy water against the roof filled the silent apartment, pulling you back into reality.

“Then why—If you feel the same way then why did you reject me?”

When you knocked on the door to the twins’ apartment, you expected a sincere conversation with Atsumu, not him confessing his feelings out of the blue. You were absolutely speechless—you didn’t know whether to jump for joy because he actually does like you back or whether to massage your temples from pure confusion.

“Back then during the trip, ya told me ya weren’t ready for a relationship yet, and that ya only wanted ta confess ta get rejected n’ move on. I wanted ta respect yer decision, so . .”

Flashbacks of said conversation from the trip quickly came into mind, and how you told Atsumu about not being ready for a relationship yet.

Oh.

The weight of frustration from your shoulders slowly dissipated, the pent up annoyance you held in your heart was gone too. Suddenly, you weren’t so frustrated anymore after learning about the whole truth behind the situation. You were able to breathe better with the bad air finally cleared between you, and Atsumu.

Looking at it now, you felt absolutely silly. The whole situation turned out to be one big misunderstanding, it was almost laughable—now, you truly understood the essence of communication is key.

You let out a humourless laugh, “You’re so stupid, you know that?” Taking a few steps toward the blonde, you leaned your forehead against his chest, a hand coming up to curl into a fist to lightly hit it; a faint scent of his musky cologne lingered on the fabric of his hoodie, effectively invading your senses. Atsumu didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your torso, pulling your body flush against his before resting his chin on the crown of your head.

For a beat or two, you, and Atsumu remained in each other’s hold, basking in the cosy atmosphere.

“Would I be more stupid if I tell ya I want ta pick up where we left off at the party?”

Before you knew it your lips were sealed in a searing kiss—this time, it felt raw, all things passionate, and eager. Hands impatiently roaming each other’s unexplored bodies, sounds of wet kisses slowly filling up the apartment. The atmosphere shifted from cosy to something more sensual, light groans, and moans slipping in between each kiss.

Your hands rested on Atsumu’s golden strands, fingers gently tugging at it as he worked his lips down the column of your neck, teeth lightly nipping at the feverish skin. Atsumu focused on a certain spot just below your ear, nipping, and sucking at it which pulled a dainty whine from your lips.

“‘T-Tsumu—Ah!” You gasped, his tongue leaving trails of goosebumps beneath its sinful licks against your skin. He cursed under his breath, the dizzying tone of your voice awakening the slumbering carnal beast that resided in his core. With each dulcet moan that slipped past your swollen lips, Atsumu became greedier, he wasn’t going to settle for mere kisses on your skin—he needed to hear more.

Pulling away from your intoxicating scent, Atsumu looked down at you with parted lips, and hooded eyes, caramel gaze clouded with nothing but pure desire. “I think we should take this ta my room.” He panted.

Nodding at his proposal, hurried footsteps padded over to his room as though each second wasted was crucial. As soon as the door behind Atsumu slammed shut, his lips were on yours once again, strong hands deftly working on the layers of clothing you wore, slowly slipping them off of you one by one; Atsumu could practically feel himself shaking with nervousness, and excitement.

Discarding your top on the wooden floor beneath, Atsumu stared wide-eyed at your torso, both hands coming up to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra, earning a low moan from you. The air of the room felt cold against your skin but Atsumu’s touch was enough to ignite you.

“So beautiful . .” He absent-mindedly gasped, a lovestruck look in his honeyed eyes.

Hands eagerly tugging at the hem of his hoodie, Atsumu swiftly pulled the fabric off his torso in one movement, golden strands tousled from the action. Goosebumps formed upon his sun kissed skin, bare torso met with the cold winter air; your eyes raked Atsumu’s physique up, and down, shamelessly ogling his muscled chest in all its naked glory. God, you used to just fantasise about this, and now it was served right in front of you on a silver platter.

You decorated each other’s skin with endless love bites, sinful hues of dark red, and purple peppered along your chest, and neck. Atsumu took his sweet time to savour every bit of you—your taste, your scent, your sounds, everything. He made sure to bask in your serene beauty, the gentle glow of your bare figure before utterly devouring you like a starved animal, ravaging your purity with carnal desire.

Atsumu let himself go at the raw intimacy of your bodies, the feeling of your sweet warmth brought tears of pleasure in his eyes as he pushed, and pushed towards the newfound ecstasy you both shared. The chant of his name slipped past your lips like a sinful melody, mere fuel to the relentless drive of his hips. But Atsumu held you dearly against his naked body through it all, fingers intertwined with your own as he keenly chased both your pleasures, choked out moans of your name whispered hotly against your sensitive skin.

And as you both tipped over the edge, Atsumu didn’t fail to tell you how much he loved you in between each pathetic moan as he painted your insides white, the dizzying pleasure contorting his handsome face in pure ecstasy. You held him in your arms, nails digging crescent-shaped marks on his skin, whispering saccharine praises to him as you let go, and emptied the words of your heart.

As the gentle aftermath of the passionate exchange rolled around, Atsumu held you in his arms, hearts beating as one, and lulling you both to sleep. The last thing you heard was a faint ‘I love you’ before passing out from exhaustion.

“‘Tsumu, what did ya want for—Oh my god! What the fuck?!”

A familiar voice abruptly pulled you, and Atsumu out of your sleep, followed by the loud bang of his door slamming shut. Muffled expletives from outside the room could be heard as you both stirred beneath the ivory sheets. “‘Tsumu, what the hell?! Ya should’ve warned me before I went into yer room!” Osamu yelled from the other side of the door.

Atsumu groaned, rubbing his face before turning to the door, “Shut yer trap! Ya should’ve knocked!” At his twin’s silence, he let out a sigh, and slung a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body before closing his eyes once again.

You let out a soft chuckle, “We really need to stop getting caught. First, Suna, and now Osamu.” Atsumu hummed in response, too sleepy to even think or form a coherent sentence. Snuggling closer to him, you closed your eyes, and went back to sleep as well.

Oh, you could get used to this.

Winter slowly turned into spring as March rolled around—the end of the academic year.

Trees that were once bare slowly blossomed with flowers, hues of yellows, and browns were replaced with endless greenery, and frigid air became more welcoming like a warm embrace. Most importantly, the cold distance between you, and Atsumu no longer existed, instead, it was replaced by fluttering heartbeats, and fluffy moments that hinted at a sweet forevermore.

“There he is! How does it feel to be a fresh graduate!” Suna whistled as Kita walked over to the group, clad in a black academic gown with a matching trencher propped neatly on his head, the golden tassel on the cap swayed with every step taken; he donned a warm smile, one hand holding his well-deserved degree.

The buzz of excitement outside the venue was high, the graduation ceremony having finished just a few minutes ago. You were all surrounded by graduands, all with heartfelt smiles on their faces as they conversed with family, and friends alike.

As your friends fell into a merry conversation, a warm hand interlaced with your own, giving your hand a comfortable squeeze. Atsumu. Looking up at your boyfriend, he cheekily leaned into your ear, whispering an ‘I love you’ before slowly blinking at you, mirroring a cat’s action. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at his antics.

“Are you two lovebirds done, now?” Suna coughed, pulling you back into reality.

Met with amused expressions plastered on your friends’ faces, you, and Atsumu returned a sheepish smile before joining in their conversation. “Anyway, we were talkin’ about how we should celebrate Kita’s graduation. It can also serve as a treat for us for makin’ it through another academic year.” Osamu explained, earning a hum of approval from you, and Atsumu.

“How about a spring trip to Kyoto?” —

tags: @ushijimaschubbs @tsumudoll @startlitsawamura @littlemiyastars @h3art-ablaz3 @eggyrocks @integers @rrosiitas @food8me @schelamski @honeytwo @nyaaa-cat @cherribxio @aloesstuff @bontensh0e @willshebloved @yogurtkags @hyori2 @hibernatinghamster @theepitomeofswag @yawnjjunz @animesimpingismyjob @acowboykisser @rntrsuna @rjreins @prodhyuka @loonalockley @cheesypuffkins87 @kos-misch @iluvaquaphor @stunie @cathyket @empress-pug-pug @plutoxxxworld @sunawhore @jaegerfiles

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year ago

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY FOUR

in which you and eddie win the bet.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7k+

→ a/n: oh, holy fuck. holy fucking shit. i have no words, because i know it's not really over yet (we still have an epilogue, friends! don't forget that!) but... i did it. i finished another fic. that's just... insane?

thank you to everyone who has been so very kind and supportive of this fic. i owe you all the world. i'm sure i'll either make a sappy post between now and thursday, or i'll get extra sappy in the a/n on the epilogue, but for now - please know you have all my love. <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

24:00 ─────────────── ㅇ 24:00

DINGUS: hey, i facetimed them for last hour’s proof. had to work out when they wanted me to head over and pick her up.

BIRDIE: both still alive? both still well?

DINGUS: so it seemed.

ARGYLE 😎: what a relief! I knew they had it in them

JOHNNY BOY: They still have to last one more hour.

NANCE: They’ll last the hour. Have a little faith, babe.

JOHNNY BOY: Still don’t like the fact we’ve just started calling them instead of requesting the photo proof. I mean, how do we not know they’re lying? Did you talk to both of them when YOU called, Nance?

NANCE: Yes, I told you guys that.

NANCE: Besides, you guys already know that Eddie hates having his picture taken. We’re lucky we ever got picture proof to begin with.

DINGUS: also i JUST facetimed them??? physically saw them?? your lack of trust in me and nance kind of hurts jon

BIRDIE: @NANCE hey can you call ME babe next?

HOUR TWENTY FOUR – 4:00 PM

“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”

Steve.

You wait for Eddie’s arm to leave you, for him to put space between the two of you, but he doesn’t. He keeps you pressed flush to his side as if the sudden arrival of a friend doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference.

“Hey, Harrington,” he even casually greets first.

He’s making no move to get up off the floor.

Just a little bit longer. Let me sit here and live in this moment a little bit longer.

“Munson,” Steve nods to Eddie before setting his sights on you, “Doll. Nice to see you, kind of glad I’m not having to fish you out of the canals.”

You feel it — Eddie’s arm tenses behind you ever so slightly at Steve’s nickname. Clearly, it’s still a sore spot for him to work through.

“I was feeling generous,” Eddie shrugs as if he hadn’t just revealed a flash of jealousy to you. You’re not even sure if he knows that you felt it. But it was there, in the slightest tightening of his grip and the flexing of his bicep behind your shoulder.

“Generous? I think you were feeling friendly,” Steve waves his hand between the two of you, as if he thought he was pointing out the obvious.

If he thought this was close, he’d faint at the imagery of you on the kitchen counter, Eddie’s face between your legs as he begged for you to let him touch you.

Just as you had noticed Eddie’s jealousy, he notices the way you suddenly heat up, shifting in your seat ever so slightly. That pull on the corner of his lips tells you all you need to know. You kind of hate how easily the two of you can finally read each other. You kind of love the way he’s looking at you as if he’s thinking the exact same thing.

“Do I get my free punch now?” you finally speak up, tone flat as you muster a glare in Steve’s direction. You’re forgoing all polite and pretend oblivion.

Every single one of you here knows what happened. The bare bones of it, at least.

Eddie looks at you curiously, “Excuse me?”

Steve only grins, holding out his arms as if welcoming you, “Take your best shot.”

You stand quickly, and Steve even flinches. He clearly had thought it was all a bit, but you were deathly serious. After the night you’d had, you wanted to punch something, anything.

“Hold on,” Eddie fumbles to follow you as you stand in front of Steve, your eyebrow cocked as you pause, “Hold on, why are you punching Harrington?”

“Oh, I don’t know. ‘She’d never go for me, why would she go for you?’” you remind him, and fully expect for hurt to flash across his face. Instead, merriment continues to tug on his lips, “That ring a bell?”

“It might,” Eddie drawls, slowing down his movement to stand more casually, no longer in a rush to break up the fight. His eyes flash with something, with some sort of affection as your hand curls into a fist threateningly and you continue to glare daggers at Steve, “‘S cute to see you defending my honor, sweetheart.”

Your knees almost physically wobble. The nickname that once struck such anger and irritation in you has become your favorite thing, something that can so easily elicit such a physical reaction. Any taunting has dissipated from his tone when he falls from his tongue now. Adoration takes its place.

Steve looks between you two for a second before his face twists up, “God, I think I liked it better when you two hated each other.”

“Never really hated each other,” Eddie corrects Steve, but his eyes never leave yours.

“Right, must have slipped my mind.”

One of the questions that had been torturing you has now been answered — Eddie would, in fact, be acting differently around your friends. It’s almost enough that you feel no need to punch Steve.

Almost.

“Where do you want it?” you tear your gaze from Eddie, looking back to Steve now expectantly, “Cheek? Nose? Chin? Jaw?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “My God, have you just been dreaming of this moment for the last hour?”

“I have.”

Eddie leans back against the wall, still watching and still smirking as he crosses his arms.

“I know Eddie’s your boyfriend now but-“

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct him quickly, but something inside of you twists at saying that.

He wasn’t your boyfriend. You two had just agreed you’d need time apart before even thinking of exploring what this new chapter will bring you two. So why does it feel so wrong? Why do you suddenly feel like a pathetic teenager, desperate to bestow some cheesy title upon her crush?

Eddie nods when you suddenly look at him, as if he can read your mind, “I’m not her boyfriend. Just… her scary dog.”

Scary dog privilege. And God, does that moment feel light years in the past now. Years ago rather than hours ago. His promise to protect you suddenly rings truer now. If you ever did find yourself in trouble, you knew he’d answer your call. You knew now why his protection only extended to you. You finally, finally understood.

“Scary dog?” Steve squints at Eddie, and his judgmental demeanor has fully returned, “What the fuck does that even mea-“

He doesn’t get to finish the sardonic sentiment. The slap of your palm interrupts him.

“Ow!” he yelps out, head snapping from the force of the hit and hands already coming up defensively.

Eddie pushes off the wall the moment Steve’s hands are up in the air, “Lay a hand on her in retaliation, Harrington, and I’m breaking your arm.”

All the joking, cocky demeanor has faded. Like he had said — scary dog privilege. It applies to more than just pricks at the bar.

“I’m not,” Steve grumbles, rubbing at the red imprint now singing his cheek, “Jesus Christ, I said a punch.”

You fight a smile, “I don’t know how to throw a punch.”

“I can teach you,” Eddie pipes up, now standing beside you, hovering in your orbit.

“Don’t-“ Steve puts out a warning finger, “-encourage her. I only said you could punch me because I knew you couldn’t throw a punch!” he continues to cradle his face, now pouting at you, “Do you feel better now?”

You only answer with a triumphant smile. Because your palm is stinging, and you know violence isn’t the answer, but yeah. You do feel a little bit better.

“I don’t,” Eddie hums. He only has to take one step forward for Steve to back up, throwing out defensive eyes as he narrows his eyes, “Think I deserve to get a slap in, too, Stevie.”

“Fuck that,” Steve spits, eyes wide with genuine fear that makes you want to giggle, “You do know how to throw a punch. If I’m letting you get a free one in, I deserve twenty four hours notice.”

“Then consider this your notice.”

Is this what I had always been missing out on?

You always knew Eddie was playful with everyone, had witnessed how he joked with friends, but you’d never been included. The thought that this was the new normal makes your heart nearly burst. To be on Eddie’s side finally, to be in his good graces properly, makes you feel as if you belong more than any private movie night with Steve or impromptu dinner date with Robin. More than any night out with Nancy. More than any smoke session with Argyle, and more than any literature debate with Jonathan.

It’s as if Eddie was the missing link. You never felt you belonged, because you’d always ached for your rightful spot at his side, not just amongst the group.

The three of you stand in a makeshift circle and every single one of you smiles. Even Steve, through his slipping pout and swollen cheek, is grinning.

Suddenly, it’s not quite as heavy as it once felt.

Everything has changed. Leaving now is not leaving forever.

“I’d pay to see that,” you comment, taking a daring step to bump shoulders with Eddie. His eyes meet yours, his dimples come to life, and suddenly — you’re home, “Think I can get a front row seat to you beating Steve’s ass?”

Steve starts to protest but Eddie only nods eagerly, “I think that can be arranged.”

“I am once again reminding you two that I liked your screaming matches more than whatever this,” his hand flails, motioning to the way you two are standing closer to one another than you are him, “whole teaming-up-against-me bit is.”

“We’re not dating,” you’re reiterating as Eddie laughs out, “Stop being a crybaby.”

You look at one another again. Another foot in the door of your newfound home, another look into your new place to rest your head. It’s as if you’re just now realizing you’ve spent the entire year missing Eddie, even as he was right there in front of you.

“Well, God save us all when you two are finally dating,” Steve mumbles with a shake of his head.

“If-“ Eddie starts to correct, but you stop him.

It’s not an if when it comes to you two dating, you decide. It’s a when.

“I’ll send a gift basket when the day comes,” you snark. The look that Eddie sends you could heal every wound ever left behind, right then and there.

You’re home. When Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders and Steve rolls his eyes at you two (affectionately, even if he’d deny it), you know you’re home.

—

But then, you actually do have to go home.

You try to put it off. The three of you occupy Eddie’s living room for a while, Steve complaining about the way Robin woke him up endlessly throughout the night and how he never did finish that assignment due in his English Literature class. It reminds you that life will continue on; you have to go back to work and school, deal with daily annoyances that should seem bigger than all that’s happened with Eddie tonight, but they don’t. They all seem minuscule now, really.

“Do we still have to send photo proof?” Eddie asks once Steve’s tirade has waned. You’re sat between the two boys, Steve’s body turned almost completely to face the two of you while you and Eddie slowly sink back into the cushions.

You’re sure if Steve knew the activities that had taken place on this couch, he would not be sitting so comfortably. If at all.

Steve sighs at the mention of the bet, “You probably should. Jonathan’s been antsy about it the entire time. Me and Nance tried to cover for you guys, lying about calling and stuff but-“

“Why would you lie?” you inquire, uncurling a bit from your overly comfortable position to stop from falling asleep and actually participate in the conversation.

“Because, unlike the other idiots,” Steve gives a pointed look at you and then Eddie, “We had a hunch about what was going on here. And it’s about time, by the way.”

You think over his words for a second before you look at Eddie with sudden embarrassment, “Have you- Oh my God, have you been telling Nancy what we’ve been doing?”

“What?” Eddie sits up straighter, looking just as panicked, “No. No, absolutely not, I-“

“What have you guys been doing?”

Both of you ignore Steve as Eddie continues on.

“-just spoke to her on the phone once or twice. But I didn’t give her any details. Have you been telling Steve what we did?”

Steve, still being ignored, repeats himself, “What have you guys been doing?”

“Absolutely not,” you scrunch your nose at the thought of being that honest with Steve. You loved him, truly, but not enough to tell him about those kinds of things, “I’d rather sleep in the canals than tell him.”

“What have you guys been doing?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, and he mockingly stabs himself, “Ouch, sweetheart.”

“Not like that,” you backtrack, but more casually as the worry of Steve and Nancy knowing the truth, “I just meant-“

Eddie interrupts with a hand on your knee and a smile on his face, “I know what you meant. I’m just fucking with you. I feel the same way with Nance.”

“Guys?” Steve grows further impatient, “I- What the fuck did you guys do? Oh my God, is it even safe to sit on this fucking couch right now?”

“You don’t wanna know,” you say.

“No, it isn’t,” Eddie says.

It earns him a slap on his stomach as he leans over in laughter at the way Steve launches out of his seat.

“You guys- No. No fucking way,” Steve brushes at the back of his jeans, as if they’re contaminated, “Nope. No way. You’re just fucking with me, Munson.”

“Am I?”

Another slap lands on Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs harder.

“Steve,” you turn to your friend, trying to smile sweetly, “Sit back down.”

“No.”

“You just said you don’t believe-“

“We should get going,” Steve insists through his blush, “You two should take your final picture and we should get going.”

Eddie finally stops chuckling, leaning back up and against the armrest, his ankle cross in front of your shins as he stretches his legs out and sighs, “God, you should see your face right now, Harrington.”

Steve’s scowl deepens, “It’s not funny. Take the fucking photo so we can go.”

You make no move to dig out your phone, because you know. You know once you take this photo, you’ll be leaving, and this will all be over. Once you step foot back into that hallway, time apart begins. Learning how to navigate this new unknown with Eddie begins. It terrifies you, it saddens you, it exhausts you. You hadn’t been prepared for this part of the night.

Even before the confessions, you hadn’t given much thought to the ending of the twenty four hours. You’d assumed it would end in bloodshed and a larger than life fight, probably before the clock even ran out. You’d never assumed it could end in laughing, inside jokes between you and Eddie, in something not only bitter but also sweet.

“Phone, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers as he leans forward and holds out his hand with the palm up, “Before we traumatize the poor guy any further.”

“I will wait in the car, I swear to God-“ Steve starts to protest as you finally dig your phone out of your pocket.

You’re looking down, unable to meet Eddie’s gaze in fear of him picking up on your faint sadness, as you mumble, “Get your panties out of their twist, Steve. Jesus.”

Eddie snorts at that, right as you pass your phone over.

Steve doesn’t comment when you willingly tell Eddie the code to unlock your phone, or the way you let him hold it rather than you. He doesn’t comment on the arm that Eddie seems to constantly keep around you now.

He’s doing it while he can. Cherishing being able to hold you at any capacity before you leave and the distance begins. The time apart you two agreed upon won’t be for forever, but it still kills a buried part of him that had just begun to sprout roots again. A thing made of hope that he planned to tend to this time around.

“So, how do we wanna do this?” he asks in a strained tone, as if asking that question and throttling you two closer to the finish line physically pains him.

You hope it pains him, selfishly, because it pains you. “No idea.”

“We’ve gotta make it a good one.”

“We do.”

Eddie suddenly lights up with an idea as his thumb sweeps across your screen, opening your photos’ app and scrolling up to the first picture you two had taken at the beginning of this night.

“Up for a trip down nostalgia road?” he teases, wiggling his brows as he holds the phone up for you to get a clearer view of the picture.

Eddie, flipping off the camera and scowling. You, hardly smiling with a pathetic thumbs up.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding slowly.

It’s unspoken, what happens next. The camera app is opened and Eddie returns your phone to your grasp. The two of you resituate to mimic the photo as closely as possible while Steve fiddles with some of the items on Eddie’s entertainment center.

You stretch out your arm, put your thumb up into view, blink away any tears burning the back of your eyes. Eddie’s hand has taken position as well.

You snap the photo before you can think too hard on it.

“Think that’ll be the winner?” Eddie curiously asks as you immediately bring the phone close to your face, swiping to view the snapshot just taken. And when you do, with the refreshed memory of that first photo, your heart physically aches.

Almost an identical image. At a quick glance, it’s the same Eddie and the same you from the first one. But the similarities fade the moment you look closer. Eddie isn’t scowling, not genuinely – those damn dimples are even making an appearance as his eyes were squinted up in a valiant effort to fight off the smile he wears now. And your smile, your smile, is no longer half-assed. It’s something real, something full, something even a bit sad. The same face you wear when saying goodbye to an old friend and trying to hold back any tears until their train has long since left the station. You can almost physically see your vines in this photo wrapping around the two of you, clinging so desperately to avoid any separation. Time apart. You’re regretting suggesting that now.

It’s a cute photo. A photo of two friends, if you could call yourself and Eddie that now.

“All done?” Steve interrupts the moment, both of you and Eddie only staring at the photo. You take a peak at him out of your peripherals, and you can see it written plainly on his face – he’s feeling all the same emotions as you. Something sad, something nostalgic, something reluctant. “Not to rush the process but… I may or may not have a hot date tonight to get ready for.”

Eddie tears his gaze from the photo, “A hot date?”

“A hot date,” Steve nods, a boyish grin gracing his lips, “And I’m picking her up in… t-minus…” he pauses, checking his watch, “Three hours.”

“Smart move. Charm her before I rearrange your face and all.”

Steve throws his head back in a groan, “You two won’t be letting that go any time soon, will you?”

“Nope,” you chime in as you swipe to open up the groupchat, not offering Steve a single glance until you’ve sent off the final addition of photo proof to the rest of your friends. You consider adding some sort of sarcastic comment, some well earned bragging and a boisterous told you so, but you don’t.

It doesn’t feel like you’ve won. Leaving this apartment, this battleground, with all the new bruises and healed wounds you’ve acquired over the span of the twenty four hours doesn’t taste like victory. Really, it tastes like… nothing.

There’s no victory, no solid ending for you to cling to. It’s simply ending and there’s still thousands of words you have to say to Eddie. You need more time, another twenty four hours, to fill with every single thing you never told him. More casual confessions of honesty, more hours wasted in his bed, more insignificant bickering to partake in. It’s all on your tongue and desperate for attention, and yet, you know you can’t succumb to it.

You have to go. It’s the last thing you want to do, but you have to.

Steve checks his phone when it buzzes with the notification of your message you sent and opens his mouth, no doubt about to comment on your lack of words with the message, but you’re already standing. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. You need to get it over with, get out of this apartment before you decide you’d rather sink right into these couch cushions and decay just to ensure you never have to really leave.

Eddie’s quick to follow.

“Let’s go,” you say to Steve, grabbing up your bag, not looking at Eddie at the risk of losing all composure.

Neither boy fights you, following you right up to the front door. Steve leads, opening it back up as reality slams you in the chest. As if there’s an invisible barrier here, and you know that in crossing it, you’ll be leaving a piece of yourself behind in apartment 2C.

Leaving now is not leaving forever.

But it sure does feel like it.

Steve awkwardly looks over your shoulder at Eddie, some silent communication you only see his half of as he shrugs and does a timid wave, turning to leave.

One foot hangs midair, your toes beginning to push through that barrier, when Eddie grabs you.

“Hey,” he breathes as he wraps his fingers around your bicep, forcing you to turn to face him. You let him, your body moving to his accord but your eyes still not meeting his, “You good?”

You take a deep breath in through your nose, “Me? Yeah. Yeah, I’m great. I’m… I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive?”

“Will you look at me, then?”

Reluctantly, so very reluctantly, your eyes meet his. Big, brown doe eyes. This close to them, you can see the way they shine to match yours. You both probably look insane to Steve right now, but you don’t care. Between the sleep deprivation and all the emotions you’ve had to experience over the last day, the tears are well earned.

You almost reach out and kiss him. You almost press up onto your toes and put your lips on his, almost pour every emotion you’re feeling in the moment into a far from innocent peck.

But you don’t.

“We did it,” you croak blandly, “We won the bet.”

As if the Universe is screaming in agreement, you can hear a chime in the distance signifying the hour. Probably the church you recall passing in the middle of the night when the two of you had ventured off to the parking garage. It almost feels as if it’s mocking you.

“We did it,” he echoes as his grip on your bicep loosens. You expect him to let it fall back to his side, nearly begging out loud for him to retract his touch from you so you don’t do something stupid like stay.

You swallow down thick emotions, just like molasses, “I guess I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Time. You two needed time apart.

“Yeah,” he sighs, as he does the one thing you had somehow hoped he wouldn’t yet yearned for ardently – the hand that had wrapped around your arm now cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin so softly, you nearly melt in his doorway, “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

It doesn’t taste like victory, yet it doesn’t taste quite like loss. It’s bittersweet.

You still don’t kiss him. And he doesn’t kiss you, even as his touch against your cheek lingers so heavily before he pulls away.

You cross the barrier and find you were right. You feel that piece of you tear off and flutter to the ground, and you begin to wonder when you’ll have the chance to come back and reclaim not just it, but Eddie.

—

Steve didn’t speak much on the drive back to your dorm, and you’re sort of grateful.

If you were a good friend, you’d ask more about his date. You’d get him giddy as he spills the details about this girl and his plans for the night, chastise and tease him all in good fun. You’d be smiling and making plans for coffee tomorrow morning so he could tell you all about how the date went.

But you’re not a good friend.

You sit in your silence the entire drive, and you pick at your nails, and you selfishly stay focused on Eddie. On all of your own qualms and all your own issues, worrying about what comes next and already feeling your chest tighten the moment you start to think about when see you around will come.

The two of you never discussed that, did you? There was no discussion of just how much time was needed apart.

Steve shifts the car into park in the west lot, right outside your building, “Alright, stop making your cuticles bleed for two seconds and tell me what’s wrong.”

Your hands pause exactly as he requests, caught red-handed. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Something’s obviously wrong. I told you to go get him – and yet, he’s still not your boyfriend.”

“It’s complicated,” your voice finally breaks. There’s no tears this time, just confusion and desperation clawing at your throat.

Because, was it complicated? Was it really?

The last year was what had been complicated. All the pretending and the fights and the tension. All the false beliefs and all the lies overlapping with one another. That was complicated. But this? The feelings you harbored and finally acknowledged for the boy you just left behind?

That wasn’t really complicated.

And Steve knows this, you can hear it in his sigh, “I think that’s the issue.”

“What?” you turn your head towards him, scrunch your brows, even your breathing and try to shoo away the image of Eddie’s wet eyes.

You wish you would have kissed him.

“Look, i just think you two keep making things complicated when they should be simple-”

You didn’t want to hear it. Childish as it might be, you do not want to have to hear this speech. Because you know Steve’s right.

“I’ll see you later, Steve.”

“Wait-”

You don’t wait. You slam the door in his face once you’ve got your footing outside of his car, truly earning your title of bad friend.

Awful. You weren’t just a bad friend, you were an awful friend.

And yet you can’t think on it, leaving it be until you had the time to properly dwell on how you’d apologize later. All you care about now is getting inside your dorm, moping and being miserable on your own. Your strides are longer and faster than they were even when you’d backtracked to Eddie’s apartment, determined to get behind closed doors and to properly mourn all that had been gained and all that had been lost in the last twenty four hours.

Twenty four hours ago, you were reluctant to even step foot in Eddie’s apartment. And now, it’s the only place you really want to be.

Luck refuses to be on your side as you slam into your dorm room, sweaty and tired and just fucking emotional, only to find your roommate there. There will be no dramatic crying, no cinematic scene with your back pressed to the door as you fight back sobs, it seems.

“You look rough,” is all she notes, sparing you a second glance before she returns to whatever she was tasking on at her desk. Her makeup, you think.

Good. Maybe she’ll be heading out, leaving you to suffer alone like you wanted.

“Yeah,” is all you can answer her as the door clicks shut behind you.

Rough’s a good way to put it.

“Think you’ll be here tonight?” she asks, still distracted, “Troy and I are hanging out today – he spent the night here last night, by the way – and if you’re gone again, I was thinking about inviting him back over. Only if you’re cool with it, or already have plans, though. Our RA has this final and I didn’t even have to sneak him in last night-”

She continues on her rambles, never looking your way as you drop your bag onto your bed, and quickly lift yourself to lay right next to it.

Normal. You were having to go back to fucking normal. Your worries were no longer revolving around Eddie or making it through the next hour, no longer preoccupied with keeping your friends up to date in order to ensure a payout of five hundred dollars – now, you just had to worry about boys named Troy and possible room checks by your RA. Finals to be taken, essays to be finished, shifts to be covered at the diner so you’d have enough cash to go out with your friends next weekend.

You should be relieved. But it all just feels impossibly heavy.

Your roommate catches on quickly, and when you only reply to let her know you’ll be here tonight, she stops talking. She focuses on finishing her makeup and gathering her things, hardly even offering you a goodbye as you shift to curl up more comfortably in the center of your mattress.

You should also know better than what you decide to do next. You can’t help it, though, as you tug your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. You don’t listen to the voice inside your head that screams stop as you click on your photos’ app. Ignore the animal inside that whines as you scroll, and you click on the very first photo of you and Eddie.

It’s painful, but you have nothing better to do in your solitude. You don’t linger on the first photo too long, still being fresh in your mind, before quickly swiping along.

The set of matching photos you and Eddie took of one another, black and white socks covering touching toes visible in each one. You nearly laugh at the Darth Vader figurine both of you took turns holding. You nearly cry when you realize you were, in fact, smiling in your photo. A small one, a forced one, but there nonetheless.

The selfie from the bar, your amaretto sour and Eddie’s whiskey & coke lifted towards the camera. The way both of you had tried to look annoyed, over exaggerated and furrowed brows paired with pouting lips. Your thumb swipes subconsciously over the photo for a second too long, and you’re startled when you realized it was a live photo. The moment after the photo was taken, Eddie’s eyes had moved to look at you. And in that live photo, you watched every ounce of annoyance evaporate. Leaving behind something you recognized now. Leaving behind eyes sparkling with a brief glimpse of adoration.

There’s something else you better recognize now in the next photo. The picture you’d taken when Eddie had locked himself into his room, only opening up long enough to insist you took the photo, the one that guaranteed you your money. You had been right – there was a flood of regret on his face. You hadn’t imagined it. But you had also been wrong; he was never looking at your own rotted vines and mourning them; he was looking at his own, tethered and shredded, regretting that he had ever taken an axe to them. You don’t press down to see this live photo. You don’t want to witness that door slamming in your face again.

The two photos taken in his bed. The one in which both your faces are scrunched from the flash, in which you can see the physical wall between you two. And the one in the dark, where you both wear tired smiles, unaware of the night to come.

The photo on the bike, a helmet mostly covering your blushing cheeks, but not Eddie’s.

The photo from the parking garage, meant just for you two.

The photos from Betty’s. You don’t linger on the one of you; you do linger on the one of him.

Each swipe only makes your heart ache more viciously, painful and sharp reminders of the night you had had. You don’t have to press down on another single photo to witness the live outplay of it – each memory is running through your mind in real time as you retrace your steps of the night. Twenty four hours, twenty four steps. With each photo, you watch yourself grow more relaxed, watch smiles come easier without your awareness and finally pinpoint all the care Eddie had been looking at you with the entire time.

You notice the lack of photos from the last few hours. You nearly scorn yourself for it, but there had been no time. There was no time for memories frozen in time amongst all that hard honesty and those sacrilegious revelations.

Except there was one more moment in time frozen for you. You’re quick to exit the photo app finally, leaving behind that picture of Eddie with full cheeks only to open up your text messages.

Your text thread with him. Filled to the brim with bad pastry jokes and underlying need. You remember that urgent want to comfort him, to remind him he was enough. To erase all the hurt and all the old scars caused by a life from before your time with him you still hadn’t become fully privy to.

You’re still rereading the last message, bet you wouldn’t say that to my face, when suddenly a new message appears.

EDDIE: Make it home okay?

Space and time. They are the last things you want, that you need from him right now.

YOU: yep. my roommate just left.

EDDIE: Is your dorm bed as comfortable as you remember?

YOU: like sleeping on a cloud.

You wish you were still in his bed. You wish you were back at the beginning, with him rather than all alone.

EDDIE: Oh shit, you’re trying to sleep? Sorry

EDDIE: I’ll stop bothering you and leave you to it. Sweet dreams.

No, you nearly scream at your phone screen, come back and bother me. Bother me for the rest of my days for all I care.

You’d never sleep another wink if it meant having him. You remember what you told him about starting over, starting fresh. And maybe taking a much needed nap would offer that. Maybe sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time would be the smart choice, letting you awake with a clearer mind and better intentions.

But you don’t want that. The animal inside still clings to all that has happened.

Something about that makes you brave.

YOU: i never said that, and you’re not bothering me.

EDDIE: Didn’t you say you wanted a nap earlier?

YOU: that was earlier. i’m wide awake now.

An internal battle continues to take place. Your mind whispers liar, knowing damn well that if you put down the phone and turned your cheek to bury into your pillow, you’d be out like a light within seconds.

EDDIE: Ah. I see.

You fiddle with your thumbs for a second, stomach churning as you try to come up with a response to keep the conversation going. Technically, when you had said the two of you needed time apart after all that had happened, it should have meant interactions like this as well. Texting each other was not offering each other space.

But he’d started it. That was on him.

YOU: do you remember what i said about space? and starting over?

EDDIE: I do. I’m not very good with giving you space, it seems.

YOU: well, considering you’re on the other side of town, i’d say we’ve got the physical sense of space down.

There’s a pause in his replies that causes you to sit up. A falter. You curse him for not having a smartphone as well, for not having the privilege of being notified whether he was just taking his time typing or if he had put the phone down. You really hoped it was the former, practically wished upon every star that that was what was happening. You hoped he was glued to his phone as you were yours.

Maybe he still had that photo he’d taken a few hours ago, the one you swore you’d heard him take as you dozed off. Maybe he was still staring at it like you had done with all of your photos.

EDDIE: About that…

You stare at the message, the hidden meaning behind it completely lost on you.

YOU: About what?

EDDIE: I’m not home right now.

Your heart clenches.

YOU: You’re not?

EDDIE: I’m not.

YOU: Eddie, where the hell are you right now?

Your mind reels with all the possible choices. He could be at the bar, at the parking garage, at Nancy’s place. He could be anywhere.

But then he only sends a picture in response, and you know where he is.

You nearly topple into three other students from how you sprint down the hallway. You don’t even grab your key to your dorm room, skipping the elevators and nearly throwing yourself down the few flights of stairs in haste. You don’t care how your lungs cry out, you don’t care how your thighs burn, you don’t care how your shoulder aches from how roughly you slam open that front door of the building. You don’t care about the strange looks you get on your way out. You don’t care about the odd angle you twisted your ankle in on that last step.

The only thing you care about is the boy standing there, helmet off and balanced on the seat of his parked motorcycle that he leans on, arms crossed as his eyes light up at the erratic sight of you.

You don’t even check for any traffic in the parking lot as you make your way to him.

“I’m sorry,” he calls out once you’re close enough to hear him, “I know we said give it time and shit, but you left, and I just-”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

When you make it to Eddie, you’re in no business to carry anymore regret with you. This time, you don’t just yearn to kiss him, to wrap your arms around him, to pour out all those emotions you were feeling across tongues.

You do it. You kiss him, uncaring for all the stares of fellow students. He nearly falls backwards into his bike from the force of you colliding against him, but he’s quick to catch himself as his hands find your waist.

“You-” you pull back, gasping a bit to start to scold him before his lips follow and interrupt you, “Fucking-” Push and pull. You retreat, and he follows, “Idiot.”

His hands squeeze around you, tugging you a stumbling step closer so that your chests are flushed against one another.

“I am,” he mumbles against your lip, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheek as he refuses to let anymore distance be put between the two of you, “I am a fucking idiot. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

His hands cradle your face and he kisses you this time, reaffirming that he felt everything you had. All those words you hadn’t said, all his own admissions he’d withheld, spill between clashing teeth and eager lips. He takes your breath away, shamelessly, greedily. And you let him. You offer all the air that’s left in your lungs up to him on a silver platter.

When the two of you finally pull apart, eyes opening wide and foreheads pressing tightly to one another, he’s grinning like a fool.

“So, I had a better idea than time apart,” he murmurs, “What if we just… start over?”

“Start over?” you question wearily.

He nods, “Yeah. Just… Just pretend this last year and all our bullshit didn’t happen. Start fresh. Let me not be a massive dick this time.”

His hands drop from your face as he takes a step back, taking you in fully. You want to shy under his gaze, but instead you can only melt. His fondness is a warmth like no other, capturing you by the crown of your head and pouring down over you in waves.

“Okay,” you finally agree, feeling your own cheeks spread and ache in a lovesick smile. Coming home, that’s what this felt like. “Okay, we can start over.”

“Great,” the homecoming warmth only spreads as he straightens up his posture. A very serious look overcomes his face, laced with determination for a brief second until he relaxes it into a friendly smile, doleful eyes meeting yours as every single flower he had ever planted in your chest blooms like a spring morning. He sticks his hand out, nearly making you snort, “Hi, I’m Eddie.”

You can’t help it. His front door is open, a warm glow within welcoming you.

You ignore his hand entirely as you impulsively reach up and interlock your fingers at the nape of his neck, tugging him into you for another kiss.

He pulls back far too soon for your liking, but his hands have also found their spot against the small of your back, “Do you greet all the new strangers you meet like this?”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

He pulls you back in for a chaste peck, and it tastes like home.

“I like you,” you whisper into the limited space between the two of you, “I mean it. I like you so fucking much, Edward Munson.”

He grins, cracking your chest wide open with hope, “The feeling’s mutual.”

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

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#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #this feels so surreal to post jesus christ #thank you guys genuinely for all the love #i will be making a sappy post before i post the epilogue on thursday #i just #wow #yeah #i did it #again #i finished a fucking fic

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god-monsters · 1 year ago

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How Lookism Guys Fall in Love with YOU + personal hc

Requested. If you can't tell how repetitive I am from my masterlist, here it is all side by side to show you exactly the sort of tropes I like a LOT. Sorta hc, sorta the storylines-ish I like to write.

Strangers to Lovers

Johan Seong

Meeting Johan and bonding through his pups. You don't even need to show him kindness. Show Eden and Miro kindness and you will enter his thoughts regardless.

A cliched way to a man's heart is his stomach. Feed Johan up too to up the relationship.

Lots of emotional maturing needed for Johan to understand what the hell is going on. Pulls away to get some distance yet always ends up by your side. He can't help it. Eventually just gives in.

Goo Kim

While I personally dislike the love at first sight trope, this guy would absolutely double take if there was something that caught his eye and then he would be his normal extroverted and clingy self to get to know you.

This fucking charmer. Yes he's annoying, but even then he gets under your skin and you can't help falling for him too.

Also a fan of the hot-and-cold-casual-fuck-buddies dynamic. He'll see you every day for a week, wake up in your bed then ghost you for a month. Rinse and repeat. After a little while - oh. Goo realises he misses you.

Samuel Seo

Ah the oh-shit-I-caught-feelings-when-we-were-just-casually-fucking-and-no-strings-attached pining.

Meeting at somewhere like a corporate event or even in a club.

Lots of inner turmoil as he gets to grips with his emotions and how to deal with you. A little bit of push and pull before he eventually admits how he feels.

Ryuhei Kuroda/Xiaolong

Just meeting someone, anyone who is the opposite of Mitsuki and Vivi. Showing them what a normal healthy person, with normal healthy interests looks like. Show them kindness, show them your sweet smile, show them you don't want anything apart from just them and they will fall for you.

Ryuhei - Not really much guilt with moving on from Mitsuki because face it. They weren't exactly anything.

Xiaolong - oof. The most angsty hurt/comfort you can think of.

Friends (classmates) to Lovers

Zack Lee

Long-ish time friend, but nothing progressed due to his feelings for Mira. Gradually circumstances bring you both closer together. Tending to his wounds, school projects, maybe even shopping for a gift for Mira.

Start to see you in a new light. Deals with a lot of denial at first and then later, guilt. Unsurprisingly, it's Mira that notices the change in Zack and encourages him to pursue you.

Vasco Tabasco/Jace Park

Classmate of theirs through J-high or knew them from middle school. Help to tutor Vasco or just generally up to some shit with Jace. Maybe playing detective.

Not involved with Burn Knuckles, but you might as well be. With Vasco or Jace, the rest of the crew treats you with the same level of respect as their No.1/2 and will protect you at all costs.

Relatively straightforward friends to lovers, with all the worries of gang shit.

Vin Jin

Love the idea of Vin Jin, Mary and You being best buds together. Either from Cheonliang or you getting closer to Vin through Mary once they attend J-High.

An absolute asshole though he is a little softer towards you. Takes him a while to fall for you and see you in a new light. Is so used to you as a friend that it will take someone else interfering or an event.

See masterlist for someone asking you on a date or Vin seeing you in his Cheonliang jacket heh (the latter really breaks his brain).

Jake Kim

Childhood friend to lovers. You knew him before he joined Big Deal and/or while he was a tall lanky middle school kid.

Always had a soft spot for you. Walking you home from school, spending evenings in the library messing around, hanging in the park. Once he joined Big Deal and you started high school, it added some distance between you but Jake still could never get you off his mind.

Eventually reconciling and slow burn into lovers. Dealing with all the usual angst of Jake putting you in danger and risking your safety by being with him. Hint: he gets over it eventually. Or else it turns into angsty regret (my personal fave!).

DG/James Lee

You know him from his James Lee days and go way back. Either classmates together or another very typical show-him-a-little-kindness and then wormed your way into his heart.

Sees you more and more, and no matter what, you're never judgemental of him and you're able to talk to him like a normal human being - which is a rarity. Growing closer together until he starts to confide in you. One day, James just realises you're the closest person to him and he likes you. You have grown and grown on him until it's obvious and completely hits him over the head with it.

Progress into lovers is very straightforward. You stick with him through thick and thin. Even with his transition into DG, you're the one constant in his life that he keeps close by and protects.

Eli Jang

Know Eli from his J-high days and always been good buddies with you. Sure you could tell he's good looking but you didn't put him on a pedestal.

Eventually growing closer to him and also meeting Yenna. Which is a huge step, by the way. Eli is so goddamn protective of her and when you are both introduced he thinks 'huh? this is? nice??'. Loves the idea of a happy family.

Bit of angst dealing with the death of Heather and moving on with you.

+ Daniel Park, Jay Hong, Warren Chae, Hudson Ahn, Kwak bros

Colleague/Crew Member to Lovers

Gun Park/Goo Kim

The third partner and completing the Gun/Goo/You trifecta. Teaming up with Goo to piss off Gun or with Gun to become the sassiest, most fearsome duo and a headache for the blonde.

Eugene/Samuel Seo

Working alongside and rising through the ranks, impressing them with your competency that they have no choice but to take notice of you. They struggle treading the line between professionalism and falling for you.

Jake Kim/Sinu Han

Big Deal crew member, joining and working your way into the Boss's heart. Another one for lots of pining and slow burn as they try not to fall for you because they feel it's pretty inappropriate.

Another favourite little scenario: you working on Big Deal street. Either taking up an empty premise or working in a store or restaurant and catching their eye. Flirtation abound especially when they visit you when you should be working and prove to be an awful distraction.

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hellodarling1357 · 11 months ago

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Flames and Embers - Cassian x Vanserra!Reader (slow burn)

Summary: As Beron's sixth child, and only daughter, you had spent your whole life being overlooked and under utilitised. It wasn't until Amarantha's reign that your talents were truly recognised for what they were - too bad you were forced to make a bargain to keep them secret

A/N: Hi! This started out as a request I received the other week but then turned into something completely different and so far from the original request that it’s now getting it’s own multi-part story

This will eventually become a Cassian x Reader fic with a bit of angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, and all the other fun tropes we know and love!

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 3k

Being the only daughter of the Autumn Court’s High Lord, alongside having seven brothers to compete with, you had been overlooked for most of your life which was just fine by you.

You had used the cover of being just a female in an archaic court to your advantage and took the time to observe and learn whatever you could. After being forced to witness how your brothers treated Lucien, you had always tried to have his back, which only went so far when any show of defiance from you was met with a beating. When Lucien had been forced out of your home, you had been heartbroken it had come to it but also happy that your youngest brother could finally become his own person and escape the cruelty that had followed him around his whole life.

Eris had always tried to keep an eye on you. He wouldn’t give up the façade in front of the others, however, he would find the time whenever he could to take you out riding into a long-forgotten part of the woods where he would teach you how to fight. The day you landed him on his ass had been one of his proudest moments, but that didn’t stop him from upping the pressure, forcing you to become stronger and more tactful in each step. Knowing that you could easily take on the rest of your brothers is what kept you from lashing out at their comments and actions towards you; with Lucien gone, you had become their next punching bag to which your father turned a blind eye.

Then Amarantha showed up and everything was turned on its head.

It was in no way a pleasant 50 years, however, you managed to stay out of harm’s way, no doubt at the hands of Eris' doing, and managed to avoid most of the horrors that occurred. However, once the human girl, Feyre, had arrived, you made yourself more present in the ongoings of Amarantha’s court, unable to leave the girl fully alone and fending for herself. Your need to help her was further spurred on upon realising that Lucien appeared to be her friend.

Lucien. The thought that your brother, the one who had managed to escape the past 50 years of torment, was now here as well had you feeling as though you had somehow let him down, even though it was completely out of your control. You hadn’t been present the first time Tamlin had sent Lucien to seek out Amarantha, the time when she had so viciously carved out his eye that even some of your brothers seemed somewhat affronted. However, you were there now. You had watched on in horror as Lucien defended Feyre, and then the 20 lashes Tamlin was forced to give after he helped with the first task…

Once Lucien had been allowed to retreat to his room, you had spent the next hour finding out as much as you could about Amarantha's plans for Feyre and your brother. With healing supplies in hand, you ventured into the sprawling court to where you had been told Lucien resided. With a quiet knock on his door, you entered the room and felt your heart break at the shaken, broken form of your brother. Despite the clear pain he was in, he had leapt off the bed at the sight of you and was quick to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Y/N,” He had exclaimed, carefully surveying you for any signs of injury. “Are you alright? What’s happened? Cauldron, I’ve missed you.” Then he was pulling you into another hug that left you in tears.

When was the last time you had seen him? It had been decades.

“I’m fine,” You brushed him off and made him sit so you could assess his injuries. “You look like you’ve seen better days.” He made a non-committal sound in response, taking in a deep breath at the sting of the healing balm you helped spread across his back. You pushed onto your heels, assessing the damage and your makeshift attempt of bandaging the wounds.

“What can I do?” You asked, feeling just as helpless as you did when growing up.

“Check in on Feyre. Please. I can’t…I can’t do anything, not now. And whatever game Tamlin is playing, he won’t go see her. Please. She’s all alone.” You hesitated for a moment but found yourself nodding.

“Of course. Of course I’ll go and see her.” You lowered your voice, not trusting that anywhere in this place was truly safe. “Does she truly love him?” If she did, then you all had a chance of getting out.

“She does.” Lucien answered, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Anything else, let me know, alright? I’ll go and check on her.” You gave your brother a final hug and then slipped from the room, making your way towards the dungeons.

*****

“Feyre?” You whispered into the darkness, the guards were in the middle of their rotation, so you had few valuable minutes to slip in and out undetected, the limited healing supplies and food you managed to take with you were clutched tightly into the folds of your dress.

An incoherent groan sounded from further down the dark, cage-lined corridor. You hurried over, halting in your steps when you saw her sitting against the wall still covered in blood and mud, a pained expression on her weary face.

“Feyre? I’m Y/N. I’m Lucien’s sister, he asked me to check on you, see how you were holding up.” You tried to stay optimistic but the wound on her arms was nothing that you could fix. Maybe before Amarantha stifled everyone’s magic you would stand a chance, but not now when all you could offer were some clean rags, a bit of water and a scrap of bread.

You knelt on the floor in front of her cell, unable to get in without your magic or access to the key.

“I know it hurts, but are you able to move a bit closer, I can’t help you from here.” You cringed as you watched Feyre grit her teeth, slowly moving across the floor, pain evident on her face.

“Y/N?” She asked in a strained voice, you nodded with a small smile, passing her the bread which she quickly bit into. “Lucien told me about you. Said that you were here.”

“I don’t have long, here, give me your arm I’ll do my best to clean it but there’s not much else I can do. At least not right now.” You wiped away the blood and muck that lingered from the first task, trying not to grimace as you took in the severity of the wound. The sound of movement spurred you on, quickly ushering her to drink the water and finish the bread so you could leave before getting caught.

“I’ll try to get back here soon, okay?” Feyre was already making her way back towards the rear wall where she slumped against it. You were almost out when a small voice called out.

“Y/N? Thank you.”

*****

Managing to obtain some of the healing balm that you had used on Lucien's injuries, you kept to the shadows as you made your way back down to the dungeons.

You had been keeping an ear out for what Amarantha’s plans were for the girl; if she planned on healing her before the next task or leaving her in the dark cell to fend for herself. Either way, you couldn’t be too obvious in your efforts to help, lest you get caught and wind up dead for the blatant disregard of Amarantha's orders.

The sound of voices had you slowing in your steps as you overhead the back end of a conversation. Someone was in Feyre’s cell with her.

“Oh, that’s wonderfully gruesome.” You recognised that voice, but surely it wasn’t…

Feyre swore at the male, earning her a chuckle as he taunted, “Such words from a lady.”

You edged closer to the cell, unsure what your next move would be from here but still unwilling to leave her to fend for herself against Rhysand.

“Get out,” Feyre’s voice was frail as she tried to show her strength against the High Lord.

“Don’t you want me to heal your arm? Or is that what Y/N Vanserra is here to do? I know you’re there, Y/N.” His voice called out to you now.

Shit.

You approached the cell; it was too late to turn back. Your best chance was to play along with his games, there was not point in running, not when he knew you were there and that it clearly wasn’t your first visit.

“Hmm, wiping away the grime was a valiant effort, and what’s this you have?” The healing balm disappeared from your grasp, reappearing moments later in Rhysand’s hand. “Well, that’s not going to do much against the infection and broken bones.”

Rhysand turned back to face Feyre, “But how about a trade? I’ll heal your arm in exchange for you. Two weeks every month, two weeks of my choosing, you’ll live with me at the Night Court. Starting after this messy three-trials business.” You desperately shook your head, trying to tell her he couldn’t be trusted.

“No.”

“No? Really?”

“Get out.”

“You’d turn down my offer – and for what? A fool’s chance that this healing balm will work? Or are you holding out for your friend – for Lucien, correct? After all, he healed you before, didn’t he? Then convinced his dear sister Y/N to come down to tend to you after the first trial.”

Now Rhysand turned to face you, giving you a look that had you thinking he could see your every thought, which, you remembered with dread, he probably could. You had never been taught how exactly mental shields worked but you did your best to block him out. It clearly wasn’t enough judging from the chuckle and assessing look he gave you before facing Feyre again.

“The way I see things Feyre, you have two options. The first, and the smartest, would be to accept my offer.” Your eyes widened in anticipation as Feyre spat at his feet, but Rhysand continued pacing the length of the cell.

“The second option – and the one only a fool would take – would be for you to refuse my offer and place your life, and thus Tamlin’s, in the hands of chance.”

Rhysand had stopped pacing, staring hard at Feyre who had turned white as a sheet and looked as thought she may pass out at any moment.

“Let’s say I walk out of here. Perhaps this healing balm will work,” He tossed it back to you, desperate in your attempt to grab it before it could shatter to the floor. “Perhaps Lucien will come to your aid and offer his magic. Or perhaps he won’t come at all. Between you and me, he’s been keeping a low profile after his rather embarrassing outburst at your trial. Amarantha’s not exactly pleased with him. Tamlin even broke his delightful brooding to beg for him to be spared – such a noble warrior, your High Lord. She listened, of course – but only after she made Tamlin bestow Lucien’s punishment. Twenty lashes.”

Feyre started shaking, eyes darting up to you in confirmation and what looked like betrayal. You hadn’t told her about the lashes.

“Although, from what I heard, the punishment wasn’t overly effective seeing that the wounds somehow healed over within a few hours without the assistance of magic. You would almost think that something like that healing balm you've got there, Y/N, was used despite Amarantha’s order that there was to be no assistance provided.” Rhysand tutted as he turned to you with a smile that made your stomach coil but said no more on the matter.

“So, Feyre, it’s really a question of how much you’re willing to risk it. I don’t need to invade your thoughts to know that you’re wondering if that fever of yours is the first sign of infection. I already know that you’ve slowly been realising that you’re dying.” There was a beat of silence in which Feyre stared back at him with such hatred, you felt your pulse quicken at the thought that it may be too late to help.

“Well?”

“Go. To. Hell.”

Before you could react, Rhysand lashed out and twisted Feyre’s arm, her scream echoing throughout the cell as she thrashed against him. But he kept his grip, twisting the bone a final time before releasing her arm as she half sobbed and panted through the pain.

“This is the last time I’ll extend my assistance. Once I leave this cell, my offer is dead.” Feyre spat at him again but remained silent.

With a disappointed sigh, Rhysand began to ripple with darkness. You weren’t sure what to think; you couldn’t trust him but if Feyre really was dying and this was her only chance of survival…

“Wait.”

The darkness around the High Lord vanished, solidly appearing again with a grin as he faced Feyre.

“Yes?”

“Just two weeks?”

“Just two weeks. Two teensy, tiny weeks with me every month is all I ask.” He was kneeling in front of her now as he purred out his terms. As if suddenly aware of how much time you had already spent down here, your senses picked up, listening closely for any sounds of the returning guards, but there was nothing.

A surge of magic had you turning to face the cell just as Rhysand grabbed Feyre’s arm. She let out a scream before fainting, head falling against the wall.

“What did you do?” You yelled, banging on the bars of the cell in a futile attempt to get in.

“Exactly what we bargained for. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you, Vanserra.” Before you could process his words, Feyre was suddenly sitting up, with the blood and mud completely gone you could do nothing but watch as some colour finally returned to her cheeks. Letting out a sign you offered her a small smile, at least he had kept his word and healed her arm. The remainder of the bargain was something to think about later when you all got out of this mess. If you all got out of this mess.

“What have you done to me?” Only then did you notice the black swirls that covered her skin and the large eye tattooed in the centre of her palm.

“It’s custom in my court for bargains to be permanently marked upon flesh.”

“Make it go away.”

“You humans truly are grateful creatures, aren’t you?” Rhysand stood back up, darkness wafting around him again. “I think I’ll wait to tell Tamlin about our little bargain. I do wonder if he will be as appreciative as you are. Rest up, Feyre.” And then he was gone in a shadow of night.

“Feyre? Are you alright?” You knelt on the floor outside the cage, surveying her for any signs of potential harm caused by Rhysand, but she just looked tired, troubled.

“I’m fine. My arm is fine. I just feel stupid, he didn’t do that to help me, he did it to hurt Tamlin.”

You let out a sigh, “We’ll deal with that later, alright? At least you’re not about to die, so we will take that as a win.” Standing back up you surveyed her again; she was so young and had already faced so much more than most of the fae here. “I’ve been here too long, I need to go before the guards return. But, Feyre, I’ll be back. I promise.”

*****

You slipped out of the dungeons and hurried down the corridor, quickly ducking behind a corner at the sound of the guards returning.

“Hello, Y/N.”

You jumped at his voice, heart hammering in your chest as you turned to face Rhysand where he casually leant against the wall, picking at his jacket as he surveyed you with mild interest.

“I was starting to wonder about what you had been getting up to after all these years here. We never see you at any of our Lady’s…festivities.”

“I must have missed the invite.” You tried to step around him. You had gone this long without piquing the interest of any of Amarantha’s cronies, managing to stay relatively to yourself, and you’d be damned if you were forced to show your face now.

“Interesting,” His violet eyes continued to assess you. “You know, it doesn’t surprise me really. I remember back when we were just children, playing court whilst forced to join in on the formalities. You always managed to remain in the shadows, yet even back then, you somehow knew everything and got away with so much.”

You stared back, eyes narrowing as you waited for him to continue. He clearly had some angle he was getting at.

“Yes. Those particular skills may be useful to me one day. And while I’m in such a giving mood, how about a bargain of our own? You be my eyes and ears,” You scoffed, already shaking your head as you attempted to walk away again. “And in return, I’ll keep your role in all of this quiet. You wouldn’t want Amarantha to know that it was you who helped Lucien, and now Feyre, would you? After all, I’m sure she would be pleased to be reminded of your presence in her court.”

Glaring at him, you knew he had you cornered. The satisfied smirk that played on his face told you that he knew as well.

With a reluctant sigh you stretched out your hand which he firmly grasped.

“Fine.”

“Lovely.”

You refused to break eye contact with the High Lord as you felt his magic encase your upper arm and shoulder, no doubt leaving a similarly intricate pattern to the one now splayed across Feyre’s arm.

You looked down to see if there was any visible evidence of the bargain, but it was completely covered by your dress. Good. At least that would stop any questions from being asked.

“I’ll be seeing you around, Y/N.” And then he was gone in another shadow of darkness.

#cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #Vanserra!Reader #cassian x you #cassian imagine #cassian acotar #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acowar #marley writes

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changbunnies · 1 year ago

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If You Call Me (18+)

♡ Pairing: Bad Boy!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: heavy angst, fluff, very slice of life at times, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, college au, slow burn, eventual smut, kind of love at first sight?, basically my take on the ever classic misunderstood bad boy x good girl trope

♡ Word Count: 43.8k

♡ Summary: After spending much of her high school life mercilessly bullied, Y/N hoped that going to college would finally allow her to move on from her past and put the pain behind her. Her hopes are crushed when it becomes apparant that the biggest perpetrator doesn't intend on letting the past stay the past– that is, until she gets unexpectedly rescued by the one person her past bullies seem to fear messing with, and he promises to protect her whenever she calls him.

♡ Warnings: flashbacks to bullying, physical assault, implied sexual assault (nothing is explicitly written, only described vaguely), past / referenced parental death (not described), chan has more than a bit of a savior complex tbh lol, self-worth issues and self-destructive behavior, an abundance of strong language, discussions around depression / being depressed, brief descriptions of blood and injury, theft.

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (baby, angel), implied loss of virginity (reader), as usual for my works there is so much kissing, nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, protected piv (shocking)

♡ Notes: please keep in mind that heavy topics and traumatizing events of various type are a main theme of this fic, so please read with discretion! heed the warnings and don't force yourself to read something you can't handle and won't enjoy! other than that, you can also read the story on my a03 where it is divided into chapters here updated 08/30/24: formatting fixes, slight changes to scenes and dialogue for improved cohesion

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

Isolation, exile, a profound sense of loneliness. Those are the feelings you are used to, the feelings that have permeated your being and seeped into the very foundations of who you are as a person. And you weren't always this way– in fact, you can pinpoint the exact moment in time where a sad, loathful existence became all you knew.

It began a little over 3 years ago, when you started your first day of high school. That first spring semester came upon you quickly, and while you were anxious to begin, there was an almost equal level of excitement. You unfortunately were arriving alone, with your friends from middle school having spread out to various different schools that suited either their families or their own ambitions for their future.

While you would have liked to go to the same prestigious schools as some of your friends, your father simply didn’t have the money to pay for that sort of thing. On top of that, admissions were fiercely competitive, and being intelligent didn’t matter if you weren’t in the top 1% lucky enough to earn yourself a scholarship. You needed to be perfect in every single way to be considered for the honor, and that’s something you simply weren’t, and would never be.

Maybe that was bleak, but you preferred to keep your hopes and expectations grounded in realism. You wouldn’t say that you lacked confidence necessarily– just that you know what is a realistic outcome and what isn’t.

And realistically, what were the chances of a miracle happening? Slim to none. So you tempered your expectations, you kept your hope on a leash, and you continued to have mundane hopes and dreams.

So it wasn’t arriving at your new, average school alone that made you the way you are now; you’d made your peace with that long before it happened. Sure, you would miss the friends you made in your younger years, but high school is supposed to be the place with the most opportunity.

As long as you gave it your best effort, you’d make new friends and new memories. You’d discover what your goals for the future are, you’d work towards them with earnesty and diligence, you’d make your father proud.

At least, that was your mindset going into it; and maybe those thoughts were a bit more optimistic than your usual, but they weren’t unrealistic by any means. All those hopes were tangible and achievable, nothing about them should have been out of reach or unobtainable.

And it wasn’t like you were losing contact with your friends forever– cellphones existed, and it would only be a matter of time before a free weekend arrived for you to meet up with them again. So all in all, you’d felt good. Sure, your circumstances weren’t the most ideal, but you were more than capable of making the best of them.

That’s what you thought at the time, anyways. Despite the perceived realism of your wishes, it quickly became clear to you that life had other intentions for you in the name of Park Jaehyung. A boy in the same class as you, who took a keen interest in you for reasons beyond your understanding.

It started with you noticing that he was often looking at you. You’d look up from your textbook or notes, eyes aimed at the board or your teacher for further instruction, and you’d notice his gaze in your peripheral vision. It didn’t bother you necessarily; you were friendless after all, and you thought maybe he was just trying to figure out if he should approach you.

You knew first hand how shyness or doubts could make a decision you really wanted to make more difficult than it needed to be, and the simple act of approaching a person for friendship could become the most nerve racking experience of your life.

You even considered approaching him first to make it easier on him. There were plenty of times you were able to be the brave friend simply because you wanted to help, moments where all anxieties were trumped by the simple desire to help a friend.

However, he ended up approaching you first in the end, on an otherwise uneventful Friday. Most of your classmates left quickly, eager to get a start on their weekends or meetup with fellow club members for practice for their upcoming events.

You were nervous as he approached but not necessarily in a negative way; at the time, you had no reason to believe he had any bad intentions with you. In fact, you were excited at the prospect of finally making a friend in your new environment after weeks of being awkward around everyone.

You were so ignorantly optimistic.

When you finished tucking your things away and lifted your head to look at Jaehyung, you met him with a smile. The conversation was pleasant at first, albeit a bit mundane. Simple small talk such as “how did you do on the test,” “how do you like the school,” and things of that nature.

You don’t remember how long you two talked like that, but what you do remember is the shift in atmosphere when his friends came into the room looking for him.

“What are you still doing in here, Jae? We’ve– Oh?” you remember one of his friends saying as he stepped into the room, pausing his sentence when he noticed the two of you stood at your desk talking.

The shift in Jaehyung’s expression was shockingly instant, the positivity of the boy in front of you quickly warping into an animosity that you could hardly comprehend. The friend, who you recognized as a boy who sat in the back of the classroom, let out a laugh as he stood in the doorway.

“I knew it! You do like her,” the boy chuckled with a smug expression. Jaehyung scowled as he turned away to face his friend's direction. “I told you, I don’t. I was just telling her to stay away from me,” he spits at his friend, “She’s obsessed with me.”

You were stunned, blood running cold as you looked at him in bewilderment. You just spent the last several minutes talking pleasantly and laughing, and now he’s lying about it right in front of you? So blatantly? Why?

Before you could even open your mouth to defend yourself, his friend laughed loudly. “I told you, you need to stop playing with the easy ones. They get way too attached, man.” He’d said as Jaehyung stepped away from you quickly, making his way to the door with haste.

You simply watched, the words playing in a loop in your brain. Jaehyung took one last glance at you before the pair of them exited the room, leaving you by yourself with your thoughts running a mile a minute. Easy? Easy how? Because you were alone all the time? Because you’re shy?

You didn’t really understand why his friend said that, or why Jae’s attitude changed so quickly. Naively, you started to think that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, and you could clear it up on Monday when you saw him again. It was unlikely, but the shift in tone was so sudden that you really had nothing else to grasp onto to make sense of it.

But Monday came, and it was immediately clear to you that the pleasant Jaehyung you’d known for a short time was entirely fake. He’d approach you with venom, antagonize you any chance he got, his friends always cackling in the background. He’d call you names and push you around, a sick enjoyment clear on his face every time.

You’d wondered if this was his intention all along; to make you like him, to spend time with you because you were vulnerable before he’d turn it all around on you and embarrass you. His friend walking in on you in the classroom probably just sped things up a bit, and made him lose the need to build trust with you first.

Some days you’d be lucky, able to avoid them by bolting out of the room the minute the bell rang. Of course there were still times they caught up to you or got you into a corner, but for the most part, the strategy had worked.

Eventually though, that method became nearly impossible as they got used to the trick and found ways to get you in a corner consistently. You only ever managed to catch a break on days that they needed to stay behind for detention or to be disciplined by the staff.

You hoped, you prayed, harder than you ever had for anything, that one day they would grow tired of tormenting you and just leave you alone. That staff would actually help you instead of turning a blind eye, only intervening when the boys’ actions inconvenienced their ability to work. You prayed they’d get suspended, expelled even– an unrealistic hope you knew would never come true, as little of a priority to the school’s staff as you were.

But hope was all you had then. In those incredibly dark days, where your life was the hardest it had ever been, you’d started to see the appeal of having outlandish dreams. It was comforting to imagine a world where everything about your life was perfect, where you'd easily obtained your goals and led the life you had always dreamed of, free of hurt and sadness.

There was no comfort in being a realist, no solace in the tangible. And you were tired. Not the physical kind of tired that came with a hard day's work, but mentally.

You were exhausted from the constant abuse, the unending loneliness, the hopelessness that was laid out so plainly in front of you. And so you would hope; hope for a better day, an easier existence, a friend.

You hoped that you’d be a braver person than you were the day before, hoped that one day the school would finally take action, hoped that one day Jae would get bored of you and finally leave you alone. You knew painfully well how improbable it was, but it was all you had.

All of it was out of your control, no matter what you did or how hard you prayed; it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t change, but even still you couldn’t let go of that hope. It was around that time however, that you realized there was something you could control– your academic scores. If you just devoted yourself to studying, to doing well on tests and keeping up your GPA, you could get yourself into a good school and put all this behind you.

You didn’t get into as good of a school as you would have liked, the strain that Jaehyung’s bullying put on your brain made studying a herculean effort, but you managed to do well enough to get accepted into a decent college just outside the city. It was enough- as long as you stuck to campus, you’d likely never see Jae again. He’d stay in the city, doing god knows what, and you’d get the fresh start you desperately needed, away from the person that made you miserable.

It's been 6 months since you moved into the campus dorms and began attending classes. Your roommates already knew each other, having been childhood friends who promised to go to the same school, but they never made you feel left out or like an outsider in your shared dorm room. They were kind, funny, and outgoing, and it would be no exaggeration to say they adopted you, bringing you out of your shell bit by bit and helping you return to the person you used to be.

There’s still pain, sadness, and loneliness, of course. Those feelings don’t just go away, but for the first time in years you began to feel.. Happy. Like things were finally going your way.

You could breathe without needing to constantly look over your shoulder, or be perpetually afraid of when a moment of happiness would inevitably crumble. You could finally live. The universe seemed to want to have a laugh at your expense, however– because what would be more ironic and tragic than bringing you back to the person you hate most.

You’d never been to a party– not entirely by choice, but because the opportunity had never come your way, solitary and friendless as you were. And now that you were in college, where the surroundings are rife with parties and carefree nights, it just felt.. Unnatural for you to be involved.

Like you were trying to blend where you didn’t belong, and that everyone would see through you. They would recognize you for what you were all through high school; a girl desperate for friends that no one ultimately cared about.

But your roommates, the social butterflies that they were, insisted that you come with them after excitedly telling you of the invite they received. You protested at first, feeling like you'd be much too awkward and out of place in the situation to have any fun, but they were tireless in their efforts to convince you to go with them.

And really, you couldn't blame them for trying so hard– you'd told them about your desire to branch out, to make more friends and experience new things, and a party was arguably one of the best places to do that. So you conceded in the end, letting them help you plan your outfit and be your guides through what was supposed to be a fun, new experience.

And it was fun– for a time. Your friends helped you come out of your shell the most you’d ever had, introducing you to other people they knew either from their classes or from the clubs they were part of. You felt included, like you were finally part of a group, like you no longer had to be the person who watched from afar while others mingled and laughed together.

It’s almost funny how that feeling of belonging and joy you finally felt came crashing down on you in an instant. You didn’t see him at first, and if you had, you definitely wouldn’t have separated yourself from your friends. You were supposed to be gone just a moment, a quick run to the bathroom and refresh of your drink before you’d rejoin them.

But there Jae was, standing near the stairs that led up to the bathroom, chatting with the same group of friends he’d had in high school. Your mind reeled, blood chilling as your eyes settled on him for the first time since graduation. You stood frozen for a moment, body being bumped by those trying to dance or move past you as the music continued to blare.

You suddenly became conscious of every little thing– the volume of the music in your ears, the amount of people standing between you and him, how the hairs on your neck and arm began to stand on end. You could feel the way your palms clammed up as you closed your fingers into a fist, and the thumping of your heart became loud and erratic, to the point it began to drown out everything else.

You tried to rationalize with yourself, to calm your screaming nerves and bring your racing heart under your control. He hadn’t noticed you, and if you were lucky, and quick, he wouldn’t at all. Besides, you weren’t the same person you were in high school. You had friends now, a new home and a new life. He couldn’t torment you anymore– you wouldn’t let him.

You take a breath, steeling yourself to walk past the man who brought you so much misery, and hope for the best. Your legs felt like lead, each step taking excruciating effort to complete. You try to keep your head down, letting your hair fall over your face to hide your recognizable features as much as possible.

You look up as you reach the steps, realizing that you’re unconsciously holding your breath as you do. Your eyes meet– not Jae’s, but his friends. And you can tell by the way he laughs, one of disbelief as much as it is amusement, that he recognizes you easily. “What?” you hear Jae question as he turns his head to see what his friend is reacting to, his eyes landing squarely on you.

Dread is the only word that can be used to describe what you feel when his eyes meet yours. Your reaction is immediate, panic settling in as you rush past them, and dart up the stairs. You just had to make it to the bathroom, and then everything would be fine. And you do, closing the door shut quickly behind you and locking it with a loud click.

You take a moment to breathe, to think with clarity now that you were within the safe space of a closed, locked room. You’re not proud of the visceral reaction seeing Jae gave you, the way you ran as soon as soon as his gaze locked on you.

You wonder how you looked to the others settled around the steps– hopefully, just like a drunk girl in desperate need for the bathroom, instead of a dreadfully panicked one. Regardless, your dash up the steps was certainly unceremonious and embarrassing, and you hate the thought that it gave Jae or any of his friends a laugh.

You let out a sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends, hoping they’re not too drunk or that the music is too loud for them to hear their phones. You do your business, wash your hands, check your appearance in the mirror. You check your phone, and then check it again, and then once more, but no response from your friends ever comes through.

You sigh, knowing you can’t camp out in the bathroom much longer than you have already. There are loads of people here, and someone’s going to need it sooner or later. And besides, he surely wouldn’t still target you now that you were all grown adults, right?

It’s likely he didn’t even follow after you, and is just laughing that even now you’re still afraid of him. You moved on, and surely he has to– you can’t let your fear of him control you the way it did when you were in school together.

With another breath to calm your nerves, you unlock and open the door, and see that a small line did in fact start to build in front of the bathroom door while you were holed up inside of it. You offer an apology to the people waiting as you move past to allow the first person in, making your way quickly back towards the steps in the hopes that Jae is either no longer in that area, or has no interest in you anymore, and that you can return to where your friends are without issue.

But of course, he’s there, standing at the top of the steps, very clearly waiting for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach, the smile that spreads on his face making you sick. “Long time no see, huh?” he says as he takes a step closer to you, his light, airy voice a stark contrast to the intentions you know he has. You don’t respond, which he takes as his sign to continue. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t you want to catch up?”

“I need to get back to my friends,” you say, finally finding your voice after the initial shock. It’s not as strong as you’d like, but considering you’ve never stood up for yourself before now, it’s enough to show how much you’ve changed since he last saw you.

“Oh, you have friends now? That’s interesting,” he responds easily, taking what little pride for yourself you fostered and crushing it beneath his heel. Before you realize it, your back is pressed against the nearest door, Jae closing the distance between you with proficient ease.

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes darting to the side where the line for the bathroom remains unchanged. If you made a scene, would they help you? You honestly weren’t sure; they were all strangers to you, with varying levels of intoxication affecting them, and from their perspective, you and Jae could easily appear to be a couple sharing an intimate moment before trying to sneak away to a room. The thought alone makes your stomach churn.

“Oh don’t worry about them, they won’t interrupt,” Jae says, that same sickeningly smug smile on his face as he seemingly has the same thought you just had. You know what comes next- his hands on you, a contact you loathe above all else, that makes your skin scream and recoil.

Things were supposed to be different now. You weren’t supposed to ever see him again, but maybe you were a fool for believing that you created enough distance from him for that to be the case. But you didn’t come this far to be the same person you were then- you were supposed to be different, to be strong.

You want to be strong, to have the courage to stand up for yourself and tell him to go fuck himself. If you don’t act now, then what was it all for? You can’t let yourself go back to the meek person who just accepted it whenever she was hurt. You clench your fists, you gather your courage, and for the first time ever, you raise your voice to him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He doesn’t take you seriously in the slightest, laughing as if your words mean nothing as he reaches his hand out to touch you. In a moment of unparalleled bravery on your part, you slap it away, conveying clearly that you won’t allow him to torment you anymore. There’s surprise in his eyes for a moment, though it fades as quickly as it appeared, replaced by seething anger.

He wraps your hair in his fist, holding your head back with so much force that a searing ache spreads over your scalp. “You wanna try that again? I don't think you're thinking clearly." Jaehyung's voice is dark and threatening as he holds your head in place.

So now he’s taking you seriously, huh? You glare at him, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as your fists tremble, 3 years worth of contempt rising forth all at once, practically begging to be set free, to be unleashed on the awful man before you who made your life a living hell.

You were still scared of him, if you were being honest with yourself, but you had to be different. You had to. He was much stronger, his grip on you was painful, but if you gave up now, then what was it all for? Your perseverance had to mean something, it had to lead you to somewhere better, to help you become someone you were proud to be. You can’t let it be meaningless.

You’re about to open your mouth to scream, determined to make a scene that can’t go ignored by anyone in the vicinity, when a voice you don’t recognize calls to Jaehyung, taking you both by surprise. “What the fuck are you doing?” the unfamiliar voice call from the direction of the stairs, and you’re able to turn your head just enough to see someone standing at the top of them, arms crossed with an incredulous look on his face.

“Shit,” you hear Jaehyung mutter under his breath when he turns his gaze away from you, looking at the man who is (thankfully) interrupting the moment. “What are you doing here?” Jae asks as he slowly loosens his grip on your hair, his teeth clenching as he begrudgingly releases you from his grasp.

“Don’t tell me you came to this party not knowing you’re in my fucking house. That’s my room you’re blocking, so move,” the man says, voice stern and unflinching. Jaehyung’s expression in response is strange– he’s very clearly annoyed, angry, but there’s something else there too that you’ve never seen on him.

He’s… intimidated? “Oh c'mon, man. You don’t mind letting an old friend borrow your room, right?” Jae’s voice turns jovial, a vain attempt at familiarity and friendliness. The stranger’s expression changes, a scoff leaving his lips as he looks at Jae in disbelief.

The man looks at you next, observing your body language and quickly processing what it tells him. You’re very clearly distressed, body trembling, eyes angry and glossy with unshed tears; you want out of this, and now.

“Doesn’t seem to me that she’s into you,” the stranger says matter-of-factly, stating the truth of the matter as he sees it. “And you’re insane if you think I’m letting you use my room for this shit– or anyone’s for that matter.”

“She’s just shy, isn’t that right? You’re not used to us being interrupted?” Jae says it with a sickly sweet smile before he turns his gaze back to you, leaning closer as his next words leave him in a whisper intended for only you to hear, a not so thinly veiled threat for you to play along with him, “I’m not done with you yet.”

If it were the you of half a year ago, you probably would have buckled under the pressure, yielded to whatever it was he wanted from you. You would’ve been too afraid of the repercussions that would follow if you didn’t, afraid of what worse action he’d have in store for you if you didn’t listen to his commands.

And that’s what Jae wants– he wants to put that fear back inside you, to remind you of all that he made you feel, all that he caused you to lose, to turn you back into the person he knew and expected you to be.

You refuse to give him the satisfaction. “Get the fuck away from me,” you say, doing your best to make your voice as steady as you can possibly make it. You can feel the rage radiating off him, and you have to admit, it’s extremely gratifying to watch him struggle, to see him flounder after being challenged.

He storms off, anger and bitterness seeping off him, as the man who saved you steps aside to let him pass– though Jae still manages to shoulder checks the stranger angrily on his way out. A sigh of relief leaves you once your tormentor is out of sight, thankful for the ordeal to finally be over.

“Are you alright?” the stranger who evidentially lives here asks as he takes a tentative step closer to you, clearly not wanting to make you feel boxed in and cornered the way Jaehyung had.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you,” you say as you separate yourself from what you remember is apparentally his bedroom door, fixing your clothes in the places that Jae caused it to crumple.

When you look up, you see that he is looking you over for any noticeable injury– whoever he is, it’s apparent he knows who Jaehyung is and how he does things. It also makes you curious about how they know each other, and what it is about him that made Jae leave without putting up a real fight.

He has dark curly hair that pairs well with his piercing gaze, but you didn't find him particularly frightening based on appearance alone. In fact, you actually thought he'd look sweet if he wasn't frowning so hard right now.

He did seem quite athletic though, and you could see how bulky his arms were underneath the sleeves of his black tee. Maybe it was the difference in strength that deterred him? Jae is stronger than you, sure, but he wasn’t as built as the stranger who saved you.

Or maybe Jae is simply all bark, and no bite? That’d be ironic– your biggest tormentor being someone who is inherently a coward. But isn’t that how it usually goes? The weak preying on the weaker for the sake of gratification and a sense of superiority they wouldn’t otherwise obtain.

And who better to play that role for him than you? You, who was lonely and eager to make a friend, who was too timid and kind for her own good, and without the inner strength to fight back.

“You’re welcome to join me in my room, if you want. Uhm, not in like, a weird way or anything– just to make sure Jae will leave you alone if he's still around. We’ll leave the door open so you’re comfortable and– uh, yeah.” You can’t help but smile a little following his suggestion– it’s a little awkward, but well intentioned, and you appreciate the attempt he’s making to comfort you following a tense interaction.

You follow him inside, and true to his word, he makes no move to close the door behind you, leaving it wide open and looking out into the adjacent hallway. Looking around, you notice that his room is more.. Minimalistic than you would’ve expected from a college aged guy. A decently sized bed, a bookshelf that contained more empty space than anything, a desk that held only a laptop and a rather old looking stuffed wolf toy that you assumed was from his childhood.

There was no clutter, no mess, no decoration– nothing that tells you a guy in his early 20s occupies the space. Apart from the led lights circling the ceiling, the walls are bare, with no pictures or posters to give insight into his interests or personality. “You can sit wherever,” he says, intending to let you have first pick for comfort’s sake.

You decide to sit at his desk, concluding that it's the better of your two options, and he flops on his bed, eyes on the ceiling as a slight sigh leaves his lips. “Regretting throwing a party?” you ask, noticing how exhausted he seems to be– dark circles under his eyes serving as a clear sign that something in his life is causing him fatigue and lack of sleep.

“It’s not my party, it’s my brothers. The whole party thing isn’t really for me, but he wants the “whole college experience” or whatever, so, you know.. Yeah,” he closes his eyes for a moment as he speaks, seeming to think about what he wants to say before he continues to speak. “He won't have time for things like this once the fall semester starts, so why not let him have his fun until then? That’s what I think, anyways.”

You nod, silently wondering if his brother is anyone you met downstairs, though you don’t recall meeting anyone that looks similar to him. “Do you both go to school here?” you ask, thinking it’d be nice if they do– you could do with some more friends in your life, especially ones that go to the same campus you do.

“Oh, no, I–” he hesitates a moment, an almost indiscernible look on his face as he slightly tenses, just enough for you to gather that this topic is a bit tense for him. “I dropped out. Of high school, I mean. The whole school thing doesn’t suit me– got enough bills to pay and things to take care of without that added expense and worry, you know?”

You get it– you honestly do. Dropping out is a hard decision to make, one that society doesn’t understand comes with great personal grief and difficulty. Most people who drop out don’t do it because they want to, but because they have to, or feel there’s no other choice in the face of whatever it is they’re dealing with.

There was even a time you considered it; when your bullying was at its worst, and before you found solace in pouring all your energy into studying. “I completely understand; I almost dropped out too. And I wouldn’t even be going to school now if it wasn’t for my scholarship.”

“Really?” he sits up now, surprise written on his face as he looks at you. “Yeah, I– ..didn’t have the best high school experience,” you sigh, hesitating to meet his gaze right away. He’s a stranger to you, you don’t know what happened to him, and he doesn’t know what happened to you, but there’s a strange sort.. Connection you feel?

Like kindred spirits– two souls who lived different lives, who are on a different path, but somehow are still the same. You look at him again, realizing you don’t feel the need to hesitate or hold back your words. There’s something about him that seems trustworthy, and the sincere empathy in his eyes makes you believe that he’s someone you can confide in without regrets.

“I was depressed, alone. I had no friends, and I don’t mean it felt that way, I literally didn’t have anyone. And Jaehyung, he– well, you saw. It was like that every single day, unrelenting. Studying was the only thing I had to escape my thoughts and feelings, so I poured everything I had into my grades. I started to view college as an escape– like if I got accepted, all my problems would be solved. I could start over, be a different person,” you swallow, emotions threatening to choke you up as you talk about your experience, but you continue on despite it.

“Unfortunately, schools are competitive, and recruiters could easily see that despite having good enough grades, I didn’t have the confidence or social standing to back myself up, so they chose other people. But the school here accepted me, and even though it’s still close to where I grew up I hoped it would be enough. I could meet new people, get away from everything that brought me down, and become the person I always wanted to be. And I have– you know, for the most part anyways.”

There’s a silence that lingers for a moment, one that makes you start to feel stupid for deciding to unload all that information on someone you just met, but when you meet his eyes again you no longer feel shame. As before, there is a sincere empathy, an understanding, a care, that you’d never experienced before now.

You never talked about Jae to anyone new you met, and even your friends only know about him in the vaguest of terms because it was so hard to relive and talk about openly. But the person you met today– he saw it, in its rawest, unfiltered form, and he cared. Genuinely cared. And when you think back to all the times someone saw what was happening and ignored it, knew you were suffering and didn’t think twice about it, that care matters.

He looks contemplative as well; like he’s thinking carefully on his words, and what impact they’ll have, as if formatting the perfect response to your admission is of crucial importance to him. And in a way, it is, because even though he’s just met you, he sees you for who you are– someone like him. Damaged. Lonely. Yearning for a connection that doesn’t yet exist, but could if you found the right person.

He opens his mouth to speak, the words he wants to say on the tip of his tongue, but is quickly interrupted and drowned out by your phone suddenly ringing. You pull it out of your pocket quickly, and see your friend's name and photo brightly illuminated on the screen.

“Y/N? I’m so sorry, I just saw your text! Are you still upstairs? I’ll come get you–” your friend comes through loud and urgent, doing her best to be heard over the loud music that surrounds her downstairs.

“I’m fine, I promise! Where are you right now? I’ll meet you,” you assure her as you stand up from your seat, preparing yourself to leave the room. The conversation ends quickly, with you confirming with each other that you’ll meet at the base of the stairs and then head home together.

“I’ll get going now, my friends are waiting for me, but.. before I go I just wanna say thank you for tonight, uhm..” your sentence trails off as a realization hits you. Right. You still don’t know his name yet. Thankfully, he seems to know where you’re going, and offers his name to you before you have to ask. “Chan,” he says simply, “I’m Bang Chan.”

You smile as you repeat his name, offering your own afterwards to which he acknowledges with a nod. You make it to the door before you stop, turning back to look at him one last time before you go. “I’ll see you around..?” you ask, hoping you don't come across as too desperate to meet him again.

“Mm, yeah, sure,” Chan replies nonchalantly, though the corners of his mouth raise in the hint of a smile. And though it’s only a slight display, it makes you smile back at him. Because even though he comes across as aloof and reserved, you've gotten the impression that he's a nice person underneath his layers.

You found yourself thinking a lot about him when you were in bed that night; wondering about who he is beyond what you initially see, about what makes him who he is and drives what he does. Someone who is clearly empathetic beneath their rough exterior, who has compassion even for those he doesn't know, someone you want to befriend. You hoped you'd meet and talk to him again soon.

You sigh as you approach Sunshine Cafe, your go-to stop for coffee and a sweet breakfast before beginning your day in earnest. The fall semester has spared you no mercy since it began weeks ago, with your new professors hitting you with an increasingly grueling workload and frustratingly tight deadlines.

You’ve barely had time for anything, and your daily coffee is truly the only thing getting you through the immense amount of homework and academic papers that’ve been dropped into your lap. It also occurred to you that you greatly overestimated your ability to run into Chan again.

You thought it’d only be a matter of time, at first. Though he doesn’t attend the local college like you and his brother do, he still has a house near campus, and even if meeting at another party was unlikely, there were still plenty of places you could end up seeing one another. And yet, either due to the amount of work that needed done keeping you home, or Chan himself also having a busy schedule, that time never came.

Should you have just asked for his number before you left? It’s something you’d think about since that night, wondering if that would’ve been too forward or made him uncomfortable, because who knows if he wanted to be your friend as much as you wanted to be his. There was a lot you liked about Chan following your first interaction with him, but was there anything he liked about you?

It was hard to say; you certainly hoped so, but you weren’t exactly confident in your ability to make connections with people. Apart from that, a search of his name online didn’t lead to any social media platforms you could add or follow him on.

A bit strange for someone his age to be completely void of a social media presence you might think, but he didn’t really seem the type to spend his days scrolling instagram or writing personal posts on twitter in the first place.

And honestly, wasn’t it silly to be so stuck on someone you’d met and talked to so briefly? You were broaching pathetic territory if you were being honest with yourself, but you truly couldn’t help it. There was something different about him, and not in that corny love at first sight way your friends might assume if you brought the issue up to them. You could see it in the way he interacted with you and listened to you.

The more you thought about it though, the more embarrassed you felt about it; why did you unload your deepest feelings on a stranger? Because having a little bit of alchol in your system made you uninhibited enough to feel the need to bare your entire heart? Because he was nice to you?

That’s so pitiful, you’d laugh at yourself if it wasn’t so depressing. Even if you did run into him again, it’d probably be best to avoid his gaze, and save yourself from the realization that he actually thought you were a fucking weirdo, and only listened to you to be polite.

God, you were spiraling– one minute thinking it’d be best if he never saw you again, and the next praying he’d show up in your life regardless, even if just for a moment. But really, you just wanted to know– know for sure if you just imagined the way he cared to make yourself better, or if what you felt then was real. And if it was real, why?

No one ever protected you before, and it was hard for you to imagine a world where someone would do that for you purely out of the kindness of their heart. You know selfless, compassionate people exist, but not for you.

Even with the friends you had now, you’d hesitate to believe that they’d do anything for you beyond the surface level of friendship. And that was no fault of their own, of course; you knew it was a response to your own trauma that led you to think that way. But now that you were met with the evidence that someone could be kind to you purely for the sake of it, you struggled to grapple with it.

You could argue that your friends are nice to you purely because you’re also assigned roommates, and you needed to have a good relationship for your home life to be copasetic. They introduced you to the people in their life because living in their space meant you’d be around them as well, and by extension they were only nice to you because they needed to be. But Chan– what reason did he have to do anything for you? To listen to you or offer kindness?

He wasn’t the first person to show you kindness after you came here, but he was the first to do so with seemingly no explanation behind it. To be kind and help you just because it was what was right, and for no reason other than that– that’s what made him different, and made you want to see him again, to get to know him.

Another sigh leaves your lips now as you stand in line, waiting to order. You really need to stop dwelling on it and focus on more critical things at hand, i.e your paper that's due tonight and still needs to be proofread.

Yes, it’s best to do what you’re used to doing, and pour all your frustrations and worries into getting yourself the best grades you possibly can. You’ll head back to your dorm as soon as your coffee is in hand, and spend the rest of your morning (and a good portion of your afternoon) into ensuring that your paper is as perfect as it can be.

Felix, the blonde, freckled barista who has come to memorize your order, smiles sweetly as soon as he sees you. “Here’s your usual,” he says as he hands it over to you the moment you reach the counter; benefits to being a regular, and a creature of habit, you suppose– he always has your order ready for you by the time you make it to the front of the line. “Thanks, I really need it today,” you reply as you put your card in the reader to pay.

“Professor still kicking your ass?” he asks as he confirms the payment on his screen, letting you take your card out swiftly and fit it back into your wallet. “Pretty much,” you answer, though it’s not entirely true anymore; the amount of work you need to complete is definitely a major stressor, but it’s your brain’s fixation on Chan, and your subsequent worry about how you were perceived by him that plague yours thoughts and makes finishing your work much harder than it needs to be. Felix doesn’t need to hear about any of that, though.

You thank him for serving you before you step away to allow the line to continue to flow, and he wishes you luck with the rest of your day before he greets his next customer. You scarf down your doughnut before you step outside to leave the building, the crisp fall air instantly helping to bring your mind back to a place of normalcy. A few small sips of your drink, a tossing of your trash in the public bin, and you’re ready to make your way back to your room to tackle the behemoth of a paper you wrote that needs reviewing.

You make it only a few steps before you’re stopped by a voice you dread hearing saying your name from behind you, one that the universe seems to love to remind you that you can’t run away from. “I’ve been looking for you,” he smiles as he steps in front of you, cutting off your path and making you stop walking.

The blood in your veins feels ice cold, the alarms in your brain deafeningly loud. Fuck. How did Jae find you here?

Stumbling upon each other at a random party, as unpleasant and unfortunate as it was, was at least feasible. College parties weren’t limited to the host’s affiliation; word of mouth took campus parties to new heights, their friends invite their friends who then invite theirs, turning what one might intend to be a simple get together between close friends and roommates into something much larger than the host ever intended.

Yes, as much as you hated it when you ran into him, the party setting you were brought into made the most logistical sense. But here? At a small off-campus coffee shop at 9am? What the fuck was he doing here?

Surely if this was a place he frequented you wouldn’t have gone so many months without coming across one another. Which leaves you to think only one thing, that you desperately hope isn’t true- he sought you out on purpose.

“I don’t want to see you,” you say, voice as stern as you can possibly make it despite the way your nerves threaten to eat you alive. You’re doing your best not to panic, reasoning with yourself that things on your side in the situation; you’re in a public space, on a fairly active street with plenty of witnesses, and lots of options for safety. As long as you don’t freeze up or mentally shut down, you’ll be okay.

You take a step in an attempt to walk past him, but of course, he doesn’t want to allow you to leave so easily. “C’mon, don’t be like that,” he says in a tone that’s supposed to portray himself as innocently pleading for your time, but his smirk deceives his intentions. You opt to ignore him, shifting to the side to once again make your way past him.

He reaches out to grab your arm, instantly stopping you in your tracks. “Let go of me!” you protest, trying to pull yourself out of his grasp, but to no avail. Your eyes scan the area, seeking a way to get yourself out of this situation as quickly as possible. As if sensing this, Jae pulls you towards the nearby shop alley, dragging you into it with him.

Your coffee falls to the ground in the struggle, splashing your legs and drenching the soles of your shoes. Your eyes water, race burning red as a wave of emotions washes over you– shame, anger, misery, all of which make him laugh.

“It’s a shame we were interrupted last time, isn’t it? And you don’t have your guard dog here to protect you, how sad,” he taunts, infinitely condescending in the way he speaks to you, “Go ahead and cry, he’s not gonna save you this time.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying your hardest to suppress the rising panic. You need to will yourself to move, to be loud, to make it impossible for him to take advantage of you any further. You take a breath and open your eyes, surprised to see someone standing directly behind Jae– Chan.

He’s yanked away from you in a sudden motion as a hand grabs his shoulder, stumbling backwards and landing awkwardly on his right foot, clutching you tighter in his hand to try and steady himself. “Wha– who the fuck?”

“Fuck off. Don’t make me teach you a lesson again,” Chan’s voice is low as he grabs Jae by the wrist and twists it, causing him to grit his teeth and finally release you from his grasp. Jae scowls as Chan’s grip on his wrist loosens, curses and insults quickly being muttered under his breath as he shoots you both furious looks.

“You heard me. Go,” Chan says, eyebrow raised with a look that says ‘test me and you’ll regret it.’ Begrudgingly, he retreats while calling you both less than kind names and rubbing his wrist. Chan hears them of course, but making sure you’re okay is more of a priority than fixing Jae’s loose mouth.

“You alright..?” he asks, looking you over for injury as he did the first time he stopped Jae from harming you. You stayed silent however, your brain struggling to process the fact that Chan is here and helped you again– and he eventually frowns. Jae may be a fucking imbecile, but he was smart when he wanted to be; he didn’t hurt you enough to leave any marks– at least not anywhere Chan could see clearly.

On top of that, you still hadn’t responded yet, and he wasn’t entirely sure when your altercation even began; it was pure coincidence that he turned the corner to reach Sunshine Cafe and saw you being pulled away to the adjacent alley.

But he heard what he said as he approached; “guard dog,” Jae called him. Yeah, that’s exactly what he’ll be if Jae refuses to leave you alone– your personal guard dog, ready to attack as needed.

He cautiously taps your shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together in a clear sign of concern, “Hey… you okay..?” You nod, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. You were in shock more than anything, you think. Jae tormented you for years, and you’d grown used to it over the years. Hair pulling, tripping, slapping, dumping water on you.. Things that though you hated, you were used to and came to expect.

But now? Now that you’d left that behind, began to live your life with a sense of fulfillment and joy, were away from all that once dragged you to the depths of despair.. You realized how much those things still hurt, how the time and distance didn’t cure or absolve you of your pain.

And you hated that he found you, hated that his presence still had an effect on you, hated how easy it was for him to reverse all of the positive progress you made. Most of all, you just hated Jae– truly, deeply hated him.

You could tell you were shaking, felt the tears in the corners of your eyes threatening to fall, embarrassed by the fact that Chan once again has to see you at your lowest when you’ve just barely formed a friendship. It’s humiliating in a way that’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t felt it themselves– the shame that comes with feeling inadequate, in looking weak in the face of someone you don’t want to see you that way.

Chan looks down, seeing what he assumes is the remnants of your fresh coffee spilled on the concrete, whipped cream and caramel splattered in all directions from the impact they made with the ground. He kneels down, grabbing the plastic cup and turning it to the front, confirming what he already suspected; your name, written in big, black letters with a sharpie, followed by a sticker with the specifics of your order.

He looks back at you as he stands back up, still holding your cup in his hands despite how sticky it’s become from splashed coffee. “Hey, look.. I’m sorry– Jae was pissed that I helped you last time, right? It's my fault, so why don’t I buy you a new coffee?”

“Huh?" you blink, surprised by his offer; once again, he's helping you when he has no reason to, and trying to process it makes your brain lag. "Oh– you don’t have to do that! It’s not your fault at all, he’s always treated me that way. He probably would’ve done this again even if you hadn’t helped the first time,” you respond after a moment, not yet meeting his gaze.

Chan frowns at your answer; he knows Jae well enough to know that’s true, but it doesn’t piss him off any less. He’s always been like that– a coward in wolf’s clothing, always preying on whoever wants and thinking he can get away with it. “Unlock your phone and hand it to me,” he says, holding his hand out to you expectantly.

You furrow your brows in confusion, but do as he asks regardless, fishing through your pocket and quickly putting in your password before passing it to him. Chan locates your contacts page easily, adding his number to the relatively short list. “Call me next time,” he says as he hands it back to you.

You stare at your phone for a few moments, processing the information slowly before you look up at him. “You.. I can call you?” “Of course.” His response is nonchalant in tone, but you can tell he’s being genuine, just as before.

You don’t understand why he’s consistently so kind to you, someone who is effectively a stranger, who he has no reason to look out or care for. Stopping a bad situation he came across once made enough sense, especially since it was happening in his own house, but to devote himself to regularly helping you was completely different. Was he really that selfless?

“What if you don’t answer..?” you finally ask, still struggling to make sense of his kindness towards you. “I’ll answer,” he replies easily, as if that’s the only option there is. “What if Jae takes my phone? Or I can’t reach it?” you continue, because surely he can’t be serious.

Why would he do that for you? Chan’s expression shifts to one you can’t read, full of thoughts and emotions you couldn’t possibly read before he speaks again, “Yell if you have to. If you call, I’ll hear it. I’ll come running as soon as I can.”

You tear up for the second time today, though this time for a reason completely different from before; you’re grateful to have someone who wants to be there for you unconditionally. After suffering for so long, you began to believe that you were beyond selfless kindness, that it was something you would never experience or have offered to you. And in your current state, it seems that even the smallest ounce of it is enough to make you emotional.

“H-Hey, don’t cry!” Chan’s voice is suddenly filled with worry, a stark contrast to the aloof tone he seems to typically have. And really, he isn’t sure what to do– he’s never had to comfort a girl who was crying before.

You wipe your face, trying your best to calm down quickly and offer him an appreciative smile. “Sorry, this is actually super embarrassing..” you awkwardly laugh as you rub your eyes dry, hoping that he won’t change his mind and decide you’re not worth it.

“No, it’s okay.. You’ve been through a lot on your own,” his tone softens, clearly trying to relay sympathy for you. You nod, steadying yourself with a deep breath before you finally look at him directly, without embarrassment or shame for your feelings. “Thank you, Chan.”

“Of course,” he says, giving you a small pat on the head in the same way he used to do to comfort his brothers when they were upset. “Let’s get you a new coffee, yeah?”

You nod again, deciding to take him up on his offer and let him buy you a new coffee. “Just stick close to me, okay?” Chan reaches his free hand out to you, offering for you to take it if you’d like to. And you do, deciding to ignore the way your heart picks back up in speed when your hand is in his.

You know there’s no romantic intent, but that doesn’t stop the butterflies from erupting in your stomach at the contact. You can tell he’s just a sweet person, that there’s nothing special about this interaction, that he’d likely do this for anyone in a similar situation to you, but regardless of your rational thoughts, you can’t calm your heart, or prevent it from skipping a beat when he gives it a reassuring squeeze before leading you out of the alley.

It doesn’t take more than a few moments to reach the cafe again, the line having drastically shortened since you were here minutes prior. Rather than wait in the line however, Chan walks directly to the counter, with you nervously in tow. The waiting customers shoot you both angry looks, but they ultimately choose not to say anything about your transgression.

“I’m sorry, I need to take care of this real quick,” Felix says to the angry girl waiting at the front that Chan just caused you to cut off, giving her an apologetic look before turning to the both of you. “Channie-hyung! And Y/N..?” He looks puzzled to see the two of you together, and really you can’t blame him. You were just here, and now here you are again, with a guy you’ve never brought up, and–

Wait. Channie-hyung? They know each other?

“Felix, can you make her another one of these? I’ll pay for it,” Chan says, holding your ruined coffee cup to the poor barista to look at. “Don’t worry hyung, I know her order. And you don’t have to pay! I’ll take care of it,” Felix says as he takes the cup from Chan’s hands, tossing it in a bin underneath the counter before he turns to make you a new drink. Chan grumbles something under his breath about how Felix should let him pay, a subtle frown growing on his face.

“Chan,” you speak up, and he turns his head in your direction, a small “hmm?” leaving his lips. “Your other hand– it’s sticky from the coffee, isn’t it? Do you want to go rinse it off?”

“Oh– yeah, uh, I guess it is,” he says, clenching and unclenching his fist as if he only just realized when you brought it up. “I’ll be right back,” he says, letting go of your hand to make his way to the public bathroom on the other end of the cafe.

You breathe a sigh of slight relief, because as much as you enjoyed holding his hand, it made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. “Here you go,” Felix says as he holds your newly made drink out to you, though instead of his usual smile, he’s looking at you full of curiosity.

“How do you know my brother?” he asks, and wow, does that take you by surprise. The cute, freckled boy who takes your order everyday and serves you with a sweet smile is Chan’s brother? You honestly can’t believe it.

“I, uhm, met him at a party. Wasn’t it your party?” you ask, remembering how Chan told you it was his brother’s and not his. Though as you recall, you didn’t see Felix there, and you definitely would’ve remembered if he was. “Oh, no! It wasn’t mine, it was Changbin’s!”

Oh, so Chan has more than one brother then? You’re about to ask to confirm, but the lady you cut off clears her throat impatiently, clearly fed up with waiting.

“Sorry ma’am, I’ll be right there!” Felix tells her politely before shifting his focus back to you, “Well, gotta get back to work, but I hope you’ll come by the house when I’m there next time! So we can talk more and be friends outside of the cafe!”

He then waves goodbye to you with a bright smile, turning his attention back to the customers in line while you’re left more than a little stunned. You always thought Felix seemed extremely sweet and fun to be around, so you’re definitely not opposed to seeing him outside of getting your morning coffee, but you didn’t expect a friendship to happen like this.

Chan returns shortly after, and though he isn’t smiling, he does seem glad that you have a fresh coffee in your hands. “You gonna be okay? Don’t need me to walk you to class or anything?” Chan asks and you shake your head, though the fact that he even asked practically makes your heart erupt.

“N-No, I was just gonna head home, I have a paper I need to work on and turn in tonight,” you explain, and he nods in acknowledgment, thinking a moment before he speaks. “I’ll see you around then. And uh.. you know. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

“I will,” you smile, one that he returns ever so slightly. You thank him before you say your goodbye, waving as you make your way out of the door and back out onto the street. You take a sip of your coffee as you take your first steps back to your dorm, finding that it tastes much sweeter than the first one you had– and you like that.

Everything in your life has been that way; sweeter, more enjoyable, with Jae absent from it. And you hope that with your new friends by your side to help and support you, it will stay that way.

Chan is late getting home that night, the shit he had to do for work tonight being beyond exhausting and dirty. The first thing he does is shower, eager to get all the grime off his body so he can eat dinner and hopefully relax, if his brain and body will let him. He eats a microwave meal in relative silence when he’s clean, thinking about all that happened before he set off to work.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he met you again, but he didn’t expect it to be in negative circumstances again. He had a job in the area that day, and figured he’d stop by Sunshine Cafe to see and get a coffee from Felix before getting things done, only to stumble on the sight of Jae dragging you off against your will.

Without even thinking about it, he ran– he didn’t know how far Jae was going to take you, what he planned to do with you, and so he wasted no time to catch up to where he saw you go. Jae has a knack for pissing him off, but this went beyond a feeling as simple as that.

What Chan felt instead was disgust. He thought that Jae was easily the most reprehensible person he’d ever met, and that if he has nothing better to do than harass women, then he deserves to get his teeth knocked out of his skull– and Chan would happily be the one to do that.

And that’s what he planned to do when he pulled Jae back, but when he saw the look on your face, your eyes full to the brim of unshed tears and fear, he stopped. He didn’t want you to see his violent side, he realized.

The side of him that will punch and maim and hurt, that left people bloodied and bruised. When he told you that he was a drop out, and you didn’t judge him, instead offering your understanding and shared your experience with him, he knew you were someone compassionate and good.

Why did people like you always get hurt? He’d seen it countless times, and it always made him sick with anger. And everyone in his life knew that about him, saw first hand the things he was willing to do to protect someone, but for some reason he didn’t want you to see it.

Was it because he didn’t want to taint your impression of him? Because there was a part of him that was afraid that if you knew the kind of things he’s done, that you’d retract any desire to form a friendship with him? He wasn’t sure, but what he did know is that for whatever reason, he wanted you to see him as someone better.

It’s just past 11:30 when he flops down the couch with a sigh next to Hyunjin, who has some drama Chan doesn’t recognize playing on the tv. It was nights like tonight he wished he could turn his brain off, and not worry about what people think of him, nor be plagued by the memories of horrible things he’s done just to survive.

Checking his phone in hopes to find something else to focus on, he sees he received a few texts whilst he was busy– most from clients, a few updates from Changbin, who was complaining about the group project he was assigned from his professor and how he’s staying out tonight to complete it, and a few more from an unsaved number that he can safely assume is yours.

Hi Chan, it’s Y/N!

Thank you so much for everything. I really appreciate it <3

If you’re still sure, I hope it’s okay to rely on you while I keep gathering my courage

9:12 PM ✓

it’s fine rly i’m not gonna let some dickhead like jae do whatever he wants

you can rely on me as long as you want i don’t mind

call me anytime you need

11:34 PM ✓

“What are you smiling about?” Hyunjin asks as he peers over Chan’s shoulder to take a peek. Chan jumps slightly in surprise, locking his phone screen before sliding it into his pocket. “I wasn’t smiling.”

“Uh-huh, sure you weren’t. I believe you,” Hyunjin laughs in response. Chan sits there in an awkward silence for a few moments, before he glances over to see Hyunjin looking at him with a grin. “What?” Chan questions and Hyunjin lets out another small laugh.

“Y/N, huh? Is that the girl from Changbin’s party?” Chan wants to be angry that Hyunjin saw the name on his phone and is asking about it, but honestly, he’d be curious too if it were the other way around, so he can’t fault him for asking.

“Yeah. I saw her again today and gave her my number. Jae was harassing her again, and it pisses me off when he gets away with shit, so. You know.” He’s leaving out the part about his complex, unfamiliar feelings towards you, but Hyunjin doesn’t need to know them, he thinks. Better to leave those unsaid until he figures them out for himself.

Hyunjin meanwhile clicks his tongue in disapproval, displeased to hear that Jae’s up to his usual bullshit. “What’s wrong with that dude? He and his prick friends need to get a job or something and leave everyone else alone.”

“Well if at this point he still doesn’t get the hint, he’s an even bigger dumbass than I already think he is,” Chan says and Hyunjin laughs, agreeing with the sentiment instantly. Chan feels his phone vibrate against his leg as Hyunjin shifts his attention back to his show, and is surprised to see its response from you this close to midnight.

Don’t say that, I might rely on you for a long time then!

11:47pm ✓

i said i don’t mind

i’m here for you okay?

11:48pm ✓

The two of you continue to text, and unbeknownst to himself, Chan has a small smile on his face again, that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin. However, rather than tease his older brother again, he decides to let it be. As fun as it is to poke some fun, he did genuinely like seeing Chan smile. It felt so rare these days to see happiness on his face, and he was grateful to see it now, even if it was only by a small margin.

Chan glances up from his phone to see if Hyunjin is still peeking at him, and is relieved to find that he isn’t. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be seen texting you, but.. Before he dropped out, he had a reputation in high school for being a bad guy, with all kinds of rumors being spread about him during his freshman year.

And while a lot of them weren’t true, he didn’t mind leaning into them and letting people believe whatever they wanted to if it meant he was left alone. He had no interest in the things his classmates were interested in; grades, exams, college applications, after school clubs… None of those things mattered.

He was forced to grow up quickly after his parents passed away, and it left him jaded to the worries someone his age would typically have had. And while he encouraged his friends-turned-brothers to do well and go after anything they wanted to, he couldn’t find it within himself to care about such fleeting things after all he’d been through.

At the time, all he wanted was to coast until graduation, and then start working full time to support himself and help his found family reach their goals. As long as the people he cared about had a chance to lead a better life than him, that was enough.

Chan figured then, and especially when he dropped out and started working full time, that he wouldn’t have time for new friendships until much later in life, and he made his peace with that a long time ago. However, he couldn’t deny the possibility that perhaps he pushed down the idea that he did want someone to spend time with that wasn’t from his own bubble.

Someone he could talk to about mundane things, who lived a normal life with normal hardships, someone who knew nothing about the shady shit he had to do to survive, and who could distract him from the weight of his responsibilities. And maybe it was okay to let you be that friend for him.

He was sure the others would tease him and say he has a crush, but honestly, his intentions are nothing like that. Despite what rumors would lead you to believe, he’s always been the kind of person to lift up those who needed help, and give them a place next to him. Anyone who had been dealt bad cards in life, he would help if he had the means to, because he knew how awful it felt to be alone with no one to turn to.

Regardless of gender, you both needed someone. And if you could be that someone for Chan, he would be that someone for you, because that’s just the kind of guy he is. As long as you needed him, he’d be there for you, he’d protect you, he’d be your friend. And he hoped you’d be his friend too, and that you’d never stop needing him.

Hiraeth; a deep sense of longing, a deep-rooted desire to return to home that no longer exists, or never existed to begin with. A homesickness tinged with grief and sorrow over what is lost and cannot be regained. A word that encompasses Chan in his entirety, though he’d be loath to admit it to any who asked, emotionally solitary as he is.

When others feel nostalgia, there is an associated happiness– that even though they miss or long for that period of time in their life, they accept that they cannot return to it. They look back on it fondly, happy to have those memories and able to appreciate what they had.

They miss the joy they felt in those simpler times, the days where they were taken care of and pampered by their parents, where every meal was provided for them and they spent all of their free time worry free, watching their favorite cartoons on tv or playing video games for hours on end.

But what do you do when your only memories of childhood are encompassed by an overarching sadness? When what should be happy memories are tainted by the knowledge that you lost your joy too young, that fate held no mercy, not even for a child so young- what do you do?

Chan wished he knew, because the reality is that even nearly 15 years since the day he lost his parents he still doesn’t know how to cope with his grief. And those are the thoughts that kept him up at night, his insomnia complexly woven with heartache and melancholy, unable to be separated no matter how hard he tried.

He doesn’t dare check the clock, knowing that whatever number he sees reflecting back at him will just add to the misery he feels. He shifts onto his back with a sigh, eyes now pointed directly to the bare ceiling.

How different would his life be now if his mom and dad were still here? It was no use thinking about it, it didn’t accomplish anything other than making the ache in his chest grow tighter, but he couldn’t prevent it from happening anymore than he could turn back time and change it. There was no way to make the impossible possible, and there was equally no way to prevent his brain from fixating on the what if's and should be's of his life.

There was a part of him that felt selfish for not being happier– like he was asking for too much, expecting some sort of retribution for all the suffering he’d endured, though such a thing would assuredly never come. It wasn’t like he was always miserable, either– he had so many people in his life he cared about and made him feel sane when life was running him to the ground, he had enough money to afford the things he needed and keep everyone afloat, he was strong and (mostly) healthy.

He should be grateful for all those things, and he certainly is, but just.. It’s hard. You never stop missing the people you lose, he supposes. Even when you’re grateful, even when you’re happy and smiling, even when everything is seemingly perfect, the pain is still there.

Lingering in every interaction, present in every moment, sometimes ignorable but never forgotten, always reminding him that the hole in his heart exists, and will only ever grow larger, impossible to fill. That’s what Chan feels.

Fuck it.

He reaches for his phone on the coffee table, bright light immediately straining his eyes as he unlocks the device. 2:14 a.m– not the worst it could be, thankfully; it means he’s only been stuck in his head for a little over an hour. Should he text you and see if you’ve fallen asleep yet, he wonders?

No– better not to disturb you, and risk himself saying too much about what he feels due to lapse in judgment. The thought of telling anyone about how sad and lonely he is inside makes him physically ill– he dreads the feeling of vulnerability, hates the way his emotions catch in his throat and eyes fill with tears whenever he tries.

He’s always regretted sharing in the past, not because of the fault of anyone he told, but purely due to his own inability to not feel shame and embarrassment when he lets someone in. His friends, brothers, found family, whatever you wanted to call them– very few of them saw Chan at his worst, but in an ideal world, none of them would’ve seen it.

He can still remember the look on Minho’s face the first time he broke down in front of him, and it plagues him. He couldn’t control it– the tears just wouldn’t stop coming no matter how hard he tried to keep them in, choked, broken sobs leaving him uncontrollably as his body shook and trembled.

Minho comforted him, of course– he wasn’t going to leave Chan to suffer alone after seeing him in such a state. But when the moment passed, there was no comfort or consolation within him to be felt– just the shame and embarrassment that twisted itself into a gnawing self-consciousness.

And the thought of being in that state of self-doubt and hatred in front of you was even worse, because you were the absolute last person he wanted to see him that way. Maybe one day, but not now– not when your friendship was still relatively fresh and being built upon.

But.. even if he’s not ready to share his deepest thoughts and feelings, he still wants to talk to you now. He wants to see you smile at him, he wants to listen to you talk about what your plans are for when the winter semester is over and the weather starts to become warm again.

He wants to see the twinkle in your eye when you talk about what your newest favorite song is, wants to your your thoughts on whatever new meal you tried out for dinner. Because as silly as it is, in the few months it’s been since he first became your friend, those are the things he’s come to enjoy most and look forward to.

Are you still awake now? Are you staring up at his ceiling the way he is now in the living room? Is his bed comfortable enough for you? Did he leave you with enough blankets?

He could text you so easily to find out, but for some reason the thought of it makes him extremely nervous. You’ve been to the house plenty of times now since becoming friends with not only him, but Felix, Hyunjin, and Changbin, but this is the first time you’re staying overnight.

You initially came at the request to help Changbin, who is currently taking a class you took last semester but is struggling with the material, and needed assistance to understand the concepts he was being introduced to. You brought your laptop with you, using it to show Changbin the detailed notes you took and offering him copies of the study guides you made, and it truly made Chan happy to see you helping his brother out so diligently.

After a couple hours, Changbin let you off the hook, citing that his brain was tired from the overload of information and he’d be hitting the gym to let off some steam. “Oh my god, it’s this late already? I still have to work on my discussion post for this week,” you groaned, evidently dreading the work you’d have to put into making it decent enough for your professor’s obnoxiously high standards.

“I can help you,” Chan offered without even thinking, and God, why did even do that? Because how was he, a high school dropout with no GED, realistically going to help someone as smart as you?

He wasn’t dumb by any means, but what kind of input could he even offer that would benefit you? But despite the way his brain made fun of him for his lapse in judgment, and convinced him that you’d absolutely refuse his help, you smiled at him.

“Yeah, okay! We should get some food too, I haven’t had dinner yet and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” you spoke cheerfully, opening up a new tab on your laptop to check over the delivery options in the area. He was stunned for a moment, feeling like his entire nervous system was zapped the moment you accepted his offer.

There was no hesitation, no doubt in your mind that he could help despite what you know of his education history– why did that make him feel so warm inside?

The corners of his mouth tugged in a smile as he helped you pick out a restaurant to order from, the two of you munching on burgers and fries as he listened to your thoughts on what your discussion post should be about. You bounced your ideas off him, and while he wasn’t knowledgeable on the subject you needed to write about, discussing it with him still seemed to help you.

It was kind of like thinking aloud; like voicing what you thought worked and what didn’t, what you thought your professor would like to see and what he wouldn’t helped you to formulate a more cohesive outline in your mind. Chan watched as you typed furiously, tongue slightly poked out and brows furrowed as you concentrated on the screen in front of you.

You’d occasionally seek his input, asking things like “does this make sense?” or “do you think this is too much or not enough?” He was entirely out of his depth if he was being honest, but he was happy you wanted his input regardless, and enjoyed seeing a side of you he didn’t typically see.

With Chan’s (albeit limited) help, you managed to finish before the midnight deadline, hitting submit on your post with just a few minutes to spare. You stood up and stretched your arms and legs, feeling stiff from all your time spent hunched at the same spot, a sigh of relief leaving you shortly after.

But then there came the next dilemma– getting home this late into the night. Chan didn’t live far from campus, and thus was near the dorms as well, but the thought of you walking home in relative darkness by yourself didn’t sit well with him.

“You can stay here if you want. You can take my bed, I’ll stay here,” he suggested. You blinked, staying silent as you processed the offer. Chan, who took the quiet as discomfort, was quick to speak up again and try to remedy it, “Or uh, I could walk you back if you’d prefer that–”

“N-No!” you quickly blurted out, face reddening slightly as you cleared your throat to speak more calmly, “I mean– I’ll stay.” Chan nodded, standing up to go up to his room with you; you didn’t need to be led there of course, you already knew where it is, but Chan needed to at least grab a few things for himself before leaving it to you for the rest of the night.

A pair of clothes to sleep in, a blanket, a pillow, his phone charger, and he’s all set. You watched him move about the room while sitting on his bed, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you did. “I’ll see you in the morning, uhm– let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’ll be on the couch, so.. Yeah, good night,” he said with a slight smile before he departed, doing his best to close the door behind himself despite how full his hands were.

Another sigh leaves his lips now, followed by another check of the time; it’s already 2:30 a.m. He doubts you're still awake, and even if you are, he's decided he won't bother you. But if he’s going to lose sleep no matter what, he hopes it's from thinking about you comfortably wrapped in his blankets upstairs, instead of any of the other things that attempt to gnaw at him.

How on earth were you supposed to sleep?

You were in Chan’s bed, surrounded by the smell of his cologne, his stuffed toy wolf clutched closely to your chest because you always held something to fall asleep, but obviously didn’t have any of your own plushies here to do so. And God, your heart absolutely refuses to be still no matter how mundane of a situation you’re in.

Who cares if you’re spending the night in the bed of the guy best friend that you’ve started to develop a crush on? It doesn’t matter! You’re going insane, you think– you can’t take it.

You’re stupid, delusional, thinking about how it'd be if he was still here with you, what it’d be like if he were laying down next to you. Wrapping his arm around you, pulling you against his chest, speaking to you in a gravelly, tired voice and– please brain stop!!

You pour all your mental effort into stopping yourself from thinking about it any further as embarrassment flushes over you. Isn’t this kind of cringey..? Getting a crush on the first guy to ever be nice to you seems so.. Cliche? Pathetic? What is even wrong with you? But when you look at him, you can’t help it.

He may look intimidating to others, but you’ve seen the truth of him since becoming his friend. Maybe it’s just puppy love that will fade with time, but you can’t help but admire him. And maybe that admiration is being fueled by the fact that he’s also incredibly handsome, but that’s besides the point. Underneath the aloof exterior, he’s sweet, caring, humble, generous.. How could you not like him?

And you think about the first time you saw him smile– really smile, full and bright, teeth showing and eyes crinkled as a laugh escaped him. It was so beautiful, you felt like time slowed down around you.

You learned that he had dimples that day; cute ones that made his smile endearing beyond explanation, and that you hoped you’d see again and again and again from that day forward. You loved the way he looked when he was happy, when his hard exterior melted away to reveal the soft features he hid underneath.

Every day spent with Chan was full of a joy you thought you’d lost the capability to feel. You found yourself endlessly enamored by him, by every thing you learned about him; every interaction you had with him, intensified the feeling that welled in your chest.

He was so considerate of you, always watching out for you and making sure you were okay when you were out together. Like the time a few weeks ago when all of you were out together, celebrating Felix’s birthday.

You also met the other guys Chan considered his brothers that day; Jisung and Seungmin, who also had birthdays very close to Felix’s, Minho, who was close in age to Chan and equally as aloof in appearance, and Jeongin, the youngest of them all, though only by a small margin. It was fun to watch them all interact together over dinner, their dynamics quickly becoming apparent.

Changbin, who was typically loud to begin with, became even more so in the presence of Jisung, the pair becoming so explosively loud and chaotic that even the quieter ones like Chan and Minho would end up roped into whatever shouting was currently taking place. You’d laugh as you observed the chaos, and you enjoyed seeing a new side of Chan– one who let loose and had fun, who smiled freely and laughed just as much, who was beautiful beyond words.

You learned a lot about them that day too– about how Minho moved to the opposite end of the city to go to vet school and how Jisung moved into a small apartment with him to make sure he was taking care of himself (and to help care for the cats the older had adopted shortly after.)

Hyunjin, who you already knew was an avid painter, expressed his desire to own a studio some day, and Felix, your favorite barista and baker, talked about all the times he failed at a dessert and forced the others to eat them anyway so they wouldn’t go to waste.

Seungmin was scouted to play baseball, and so moved pretty far away from the others now, but still loved to come back to the city and visit when he could, often with a camera in hand to capture moments he found beautiful. Jeongin was taking a gap year before going to school again, trying to make sure that he was sure about what he wanted to do with his life before committing himself to the hours of work and money spent.

You were in awe of them, truly; they were all so different, yet came together and loved one another so genuinely, as real brothers would. And they all unanimously agreed that Chan was the one who held them together, the one who supported them through everything and helped them during the hardest times in their life.

You loved how anytime someone praised him, or had anything even remotely positive to say about him, his ears would light up red with embarrassment as he turned his gaze away from them. You knew Chan was softie underneath, that was obvious to you from the day you met him, but it was still nice to have your opinion of him affirmed by others, to know that was the kind of person he always was.

And he expressed that he didn’t see his actions as praiseworthy, always feeling awkward when it was brought up. To Chan, it was just human decency to help someone if he had the means to– a feeling that stemmed from the time he spent alone and in need of help when he was a child.

He was well acquainted with that pain, knew how miserable it was, and he didn’t want anyone else to experience it. He couldn’t ignore someone who was clearly in need, so he always helped; even if he wasn’t in the best of circumstances himself, he would do whatever he could for them, no questions asked. And he never asked for anything in return, because to him, seeing the person back on track and happy again was reward enough.

You knew every kind thing they said about Chan was no exaggeration, knew first hand that he truly was the kindest person you’d ever met. He put on a mask of toughness, sure, but there was no one in the world who was as generous and caring as him. You looked at him with pure adoration, which certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin, who smiled to himself whenever he saw the way you’d blush or smile whenever Chan looked back your way.

And when you were leaving the restaurant together, each saying your goodbyes as you readied yourselves to head in your separate directions, you saw him. It was pure coincidence– Jae was across the street, talking with some friends as he stood outside the bar smoking, completely unaware of the fact that you were even in the area.

Chan looked at you, noticed the way you suddenly stopped in place and just stared across the street, and he followed your gaze to the culprit. He stepped close to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to his body.

“It’s okay, he didn’t see you,” Chan comforted you, bringing his other hand to your face, directing you to look away from Jae and at him instead, “and even if he did, I’m right here. Just stick close to me, okay?” You nodded slowly, wondering if the thumb that rested on your cheek could feel the way heat rose to it.

The others who were there, a group consisting of just the 3 who lived with Chan, just observed, not daring to step in until the moment was over. They all knew Jae well, and were also well aware of the things he’d done to you, at least on the surface level, and they promised that they’d look out for you too.

You thanked them earnestly at the time, honestly unable to think of a single time you’d ever felt such solidarity, deeply appreciative of them, and of Chan, who brought you all together. But now, as they all stood there watching, they felt it’d be best to leave it to Chan, who you quite obviously had feelings for. Hyunjin and Felix shared a knowing look, deciding to drag Changbin down the street with them before he’d have the opportunity to accidentally interrupt your moment.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he squeezed your shoulder, leading you to walk away from the area with him. There was no romantic intent, you knew that– he was keeping you close to make sure you were okay, to ensure that you were within his reach should anything happen. Chan was a kind hearted person who did anything needed to protect others and there was nothing special about this interaction, you knew that.

But regardless of all those rational thoughts you were repeating to yourself, you couldn’t stop the way it made your heart skip a beat, couldn’t help the way his care for you made your knees weak and face hot. Because even if he never liked you the way you liked him, he still cared about you, and that was enough fuel for your growing crush on him, enough to make your heart beat out of control.

Was he still awake? Chan told you before that he was an insomniac, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he was just as wide awake as you are. Should you go check?

There was certainly no harm in it– if he did happen to be asleep, you’d just quietly slip back to his room and let him get some much needed rest, while you'd try again to get some sleep. There was really no reason not to go.

Carefully, you rise from the bed, wolf plush tucked safely in your arms and blanket wrapped around you, quietly opening the door and exiting out into the hallway. You’re careful not to make the stairs creak as you make your way down to the living room where Chan is supposed to be, and he immediately comes into view once you’re at the bottom.

It’s obvious he’s awake, phone screen brightly illuminating the otherwise pitch black space. He hears your footsteps as you step closer, lifting his head just enough to see who is approaching him this late at night.

He looks surprised to see you for a moment, an emotion you can’t read in the relative darkness on his face for just a second before he’s sitting up and scooting to the side to make room for you on the couch next to him. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” he asks as you plop down in the spot he’s provided for you next to him, “Is my bed uncomfortable?”

“Oh, no! Your bed was fine, it’s just..” I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it was driving me crazy, you think, but don't admit, “.. a lot on my mind, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgment, definitely feeling the same way; but he didn’t need to drag you down with all that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offers, but you quickly shake your head, mortified at the thought of revealing your crush on him. That’s the last thing you should do. “Thanks, but no, I just want to take my mind off it.”

He chuckles a little at your response, opting instead to change the subject, “I see you have Wolf Chan with you.” Wolf Chan? You look down at your arms, the cute wolf toy’s head peeking out from between your arms.

“Oh, he has a name?” you ask and he nods, smiling ever so slightly as he speaks. “Yeah, kinda embarrassing but I had a huge wolf phase as a kid, so my mom and dad got me him for my birthday. Named him after myself cause, you know, kid brain thought it was cool.”

“That’s cute! When is your birthday?” you ask, hoping that you’d have the chance to plan something nice for him as thanks for all he’s done for you in the time you’ve known him. “October 3rd,” he answers swiftly, and you frown.

“..What? It already passed then? Why didn’t you tell me?” your frown transitions into a pout, sad at the realization that you all celebrated his brother's birthdays but not his.

“I.. don’t really celebrate it. Wolf Chan– he was the last gift I got from my parents, the last birthday I had with them before.. Yeah. So I just.. Don’t acknowledge my birthday anymore, I guess?” Your heart sinks, not only because of how sad that is, but because you’re holding something clearly so important and personal to him without even having known it. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know– should I go put him back?”

“Nah, don’t worry. I like it actually,” he smiles softly, sincerely, “I haven’t touched him in a long time myself, so.. He needs the attention. I’m sure he was feeling neglected.” You smile back, relief washing over you instantly, thankful that you didn’t unintentionally make a drastic error. “Well I hope you know, I can’t let your birthday go ignored now that I know it.”

“I expected that,” he replies, knowing full well you’d share that sentiment with his brothers. They still always wish him a happy birthday and get him a gift despite how often he expresses that they shouldn’t.

“Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer,” you ask carefully, voice quiet and unsure, an underlying worry carried in your tone. Chan swallows, already anticipating what the question will be, the same questions he’s answered countless times, but never gets any easier to talk about.

“What they were like? You must still think about them a lot.” Oh. That wasn’t the question he was expecting. He’s used to being asked what happened, how he's coping, if there’s anything he needs– no one has ever asked about what they were like when they were still here.

He anticipates pity, or a sympathy that while mostly appreciated, makes him feel incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. Even with practice, there’s still times where he doesn’t know how to react, a terse, “I’m fine, thanks,” leaving him as he plots the quickest way out of the conversation.

Safe to say, Chan isn’t good about talking about his feelings, or even feeling them to begin with for that matter. Apart from moments of weakness, when his facade cracks due to the mounting pressure and overload of emotions, he shares only what he deems necessary, never offering more than the minimum of what is needed.

Even when it came to his brothers, who he trusts more than anyone else, it was hard for him to go beyond his practiced response, taking him a great amount of emotional effort to do so. And he's not confident he can talk with you about how good they were without breaking down, but he can still share a little of how he feels, can't he?

“I do,” he answers after a moment, voice ever so slightly wavering. It's a simple response, sure, but not for Chan– nothing related to this topic is ever simple or easy for him. But somehow he feels comfortable enough to try.

And maybe that’s because it’s encroaching 3am and lack of sleep really takes a toll on one’s mental defenses, but he doesn’t think that’s all there is to it. He trusts you, as he does anyone he’s grown close to, but it takes more than trust alone to be able to open up.

You could trust someone with your life and still struggle to express an emotion, still have the words you want to say die in your throat. Maybe it’s because of what else he feels when he’s around you– an unfamiliar emotion that encroaches on his chest whenever you’re in the room with him.

The one that intensifies his desire to protect you from people like Jae, the one that leads to him wanting to talk to you at all hours about any and every thing that comes to your mind, the one that makes his heart pick up when you smile at him and always makes him return the smile despite himself.

He wants to share with you, he realizes; share everything he can, from his happy moments to his sad ones, his thoughts, his feelings, his entire life even. He wants nothing to be off limits, to be his authentic self before you, even if who he is deep down is ugly and scarred.

“Even just before you came downstairs, I was thinking of them,” he continues, his honesty unfamiliar to himself but not unwelcome; it’s not that he’d lie about anything he felt, but he was just.. Avoidant. He didn’t want to talk about it, refused to even, most times.

But you– you make him want to be honest, not just with you, but with himself. Maybe it’s because of the feelings for you that have begun to accumulate in his heart, or maybe because he knows how similar you are. The circumstances were different, but the feelings were the same; isolation, sadness, hopelessness.

No one to turn to, no one to rely on, fighting all by yourself, with only your own ability to pick yourself back up to carry you forward. Chan knew first hand how painful that existence is, how much it hurts to have nothing, no one. He’s also come to learn, time and time again, that even when you’ve found your place in the world, the void lingers.

The hole in his chest never closes– even if he can stop it’s growth, it never shrinks, never collapses or recedes. There’s reasons for that, he knows; it’s his own fault for not allowing himself to feel, to share, his hesitancy to allow anyone past arm’s length or to chip at his walls.

He doesn’t want that with you– if he wants something with you beyond this, beyond the boundaries of simple friendship, he needs to do more, feel more, share more. It was something he thought he would be terrified to do, an irrational fear that your opinion of him would change if he wasn't as strong as he appeared to be; but now that he's met with the opportunity, instead of fear, he feels.. safe?

“I lost them really young, you know; I was just a kid with a lot of grief he didn’t know how to handle, and the people who took me in didn’t care. ‘Suck it up,’ ‘get over it,’ ‘stop being a baby and grow up,’ shit like that. Didn’t matter that I was only 7 and lost everything, I should just be grateful they gave me a place to sleep and eat."

"Got emancipated at 16 to get away from them, dropped out of school cause I couldn’t balance it with how much I had to work, and I wasn’t gonna miss it anyways. And here I am now,” Chan is hesitant to meet your gaze when he finishes talking, worried about what feeling it might conjure in him when he sees your eyes laden with sympathy.

Normally, the sympathy of others make him feel sick. He hates the pity, hates the attention that comes with having his vulnerabilities on display, hates the words they offer as consolation. But he doesn't hate it for you– the only thing you ever make him feel is warm. So, so warm after a lifetime of cold.

You move across the couch and wrap your arms around him in a hug, an action he didn’t expect– it's the first time you're hugging him. “That must’ve been so hard..” you say softly, care and concern for him evident in the way you speak to him.

He blinks, a lump forming in his throat that normally he’d try to ignore, to push away and act as if he’s fine, but this time he doesn’t. He’s choked up, he’s emotional, and for once, that’s okay.

Carefully, he wraps his arms around you as well, his head resting atop yours as he lets out a shaky exhale. “Can we stay like this for a while?” he asks quietly, his fingers clutching at your shirt, as if afraid you’ll leave him the moment he lets go.

“Of course,” you assure him, moving just enough to make yourself more comfortable and settle in against him, “as long as you need.” He mumbles a ‘thank you’, to which you hum in response, following his lead as he lays back and settles with you in his arms.

You stay like that for a long time– long enough for your breathing to slow, eyes closed and arms beginning to fall from the hug as you drift off. Your head has sank to his chest, his heartbeat, that started fast and erratic, has slowed to a comforting, steady rhythm that lulled you to sleep.

Chan is careful to pull the blanket up to your shoulders, ensuring that you at least are covered and will stay plenty warm until you wake up. He closes his eyes, keeping his arms wrapped around you under the blanket, wanting to keep you close and not let go.

He doesn’t know if he’ll always have this with you; this close comfort, this feeling of peace and calm, of having you in his arms and being able to be held by you, while holding you in return. He likes it, wants it engraved in his memory in case it never happens again, to always remember the way you felt, the way you cared, the safety he felt with you. A small, but cherished moment, special and important to him beyond words.

Was it okay to be this happy? It’s something Chan thought about lately, whenever he had finished spending a day with you, laying in his bed and playing them over in his mind, making sure every little detail was memorized.

The way you smiled, the way you laughed, the feel of your soft skin when he touched your hand or you hugged him tight, the way your perfume lingered in the room long after you’d left it. Did he deserve to be happy?

He certainly didn’t feel like he did, but he welcomed it all the same, too selfish to let go of the small piece of joy he’d obtained. His feelings for you had grown considerably, and he was sure it was obvious to his brothers, who never failed to notice the way he'd change when he was around you; they just knew him too well and were around him too much to not notice something different about his behavior.

He liked you a lot, and there was certainly no way he’d be able to deny it if they asked about it. They didn’t overtly ask about it though of course, more often opting to make subtle nods to their knowledge of it or make suggestions like ‘wouldn’t it be fun if Y/N came too? You should invite her!’ when they had plans together.

Sometimes they even lightly poked some fun, one instance that sticks in Chan's mind being when Hyunjin wanted to show him what he called an “adorable picture.” It was of you and Chan, asleep on the couch together that first time you stayed the night.

Your head on his chest, his arm loosely wrapped around you, blanket having fallen from your shoulders just enough to make Chan’s hand on your back come into view. His face flushed when he saw it, ears burning as they turned red. Hyunjin was right, it was an adorable picture, and Chan was embarrassed beyond belief to see the moment captured.

Hyunjin giggled in a mischievous sort of delight upon seeing the older’s reaction, evidently very pleased with the result he obtained. Chan's typical response in a situation where his feelings are exposed like this would be to play it cool and act like it’s not a big deal, which truthfully, he didn’t want to do.

Why should he pretend he doesn’t like you as much as he does? Especially after he’s decided he’ll do his best to be honest with himself, and by extension, the others in his life (you especially.) Even if it’s embarrassing, or uncomfortable because he’s not used to his emotions being obvious and out on display, it’s what he wants, needs even.

He needs to let them out if he’s going to be a better man than he was the day before, to be deserving of you when the time is right. So instead, he does what would normally be the unthinkable– he owns it. No denial, no avoidance, no playing it off as less severe or important than it really is to him.

“Can you.. send it to me? I– I want to keep it,” Chan asked, easily the most shy and embarrassed to ask a question he had ever been in his entire life. Hyunjin blinked, initially surprised, but then immediately smiled. “Of course Channie-hyung! You should send it to Y/N too, I’m sure she’d like it,” he said as he eagerly opened his message tab, clicking Chan’s name to send the photo he took.

“You could send it to her,” Chan responded before the words following fully sank in. Would you? “You think she’d want it too?” he asked, wondering if Hyunjin could tell how much hope lied in his question.

“Why wouldn’t she? You’re friends, aren’t you? And it’s a cute memory,” Hyunjin said, doing his best to convey why he thinks you’d want it without revealing that you absolutely have as bad of a crush on Chan as he does on you. (And it’s not like you explicitly told him either; it’s just that you’re as obvious about it and easy to read as Chan is.)

“Right, yeah, of course.” Was it silly to hope that Hyunjin would say something like ‘obviously because she likes you!’ …Yeah. Definitely. But when he looked at the picture, it gave him hope that maybe you felt the same way; and if you didn’t, that maybe you would in the future, after he gave his earnest effort to be someone good.

His next bit of hope came during a get together for Hyunjin’s birthday. The weather had just begun to turn warm, the days slowly getting longer and longer, allowing for more frequent outings. Thus, by Hyunjin’s own request, you went to have some fun downtown, hitting up local art scenes and scouting out opportunities for the birthday boy to get some fresh, new supplies.

It turned out to be a long day, with Hyunjin’s interest piqued towards various different places and sights, and as night rolled in most of the group had empty stomachs and aching legs. You all settled for having dinner at the house, picking up takeout and a birthday cake on the way back.

You seemed different after eating dinner, Chan noticed. You were sitting alone on the couch away from the group in the kitchen, who were crowding around the birthday cake waiting for a slice. You were watching them with an almost somber expression, and Chan could’ve sworn your eyes were fixated on him in particular.

Had he done something to upset you? There was nothing he could recall, but he wasn’t exactly well versed or experienced with understanding or handling the complexities of feelings. He could easily imagine a world in which he unintentionally said or did something wrong, but he hoped that maybe you were just tired, and Chan only thought you were looking at him in sadly, when in reality, exhaustion was just catching up to you.

And really, you were staring at Chan, but not for the reason he feared; he hadn’t done a single thing to upset you– quite the contrary, actually. He was good– not just to you, but to everyone. You watched the way he’d shoulder everything, how he’d support endlessly and rarely accept anything back, always so selfless and caring, withstanding anything thrown his way with generous consideration.

You learned a lot about Chan in your time with him; about his youth, what his family dynamic used to be like, how even before he dropped out he had a bad reputation at his school for appearing stand-offish and cold. That reputation followed him for a majority of his life after leaving as well, with most people who knew him having a great dislike for him due to their perceived vision of him and the half-truths (or outright lies) they believed in.

It was only people like you and his brothers, who took the time to know him beyond the superficial front, that knew what a great person he truly was. And truthfully, it angered you; why were people so quick to judge someone they didn’t know?

Chan was the exact opposite of what people made him out to be. He wasn’t violent or cruel, nor was he scary or someone to be avoided at all costs. He was just a boy, now a man, who had suffered far too much pain and cruelty for someone his age, who was just doing his best to navigate the world with the limited resources he had. What was so wrong with that?

But despite all the misconceptions of others, the burdens he carried, or the responsibilities he had, you never once heard him complain about any of it, or show any sign of annoyance. Because despite what people might think about him, the people close to him knew who he truly was– someone who lived his life with compassion and kindness, who was misunderstood but not ill-intentioned, always trying his best despite the difficulties that came his way.

Sometimes you would wonder, though– is he really okay? Chan had dealt with so much, enough to easily break down even the most resolute of people. And as much as he shared, there was equally as much that you didn’t know; about what he felt, if he ever received as much as he gave, if he was truly happy.

You did your best to ensure he was. You always returned whatever favor he gave you, strived to be a reassuring presence for him as much as he was for you, but it was hard to know if that was enough. You wanted to ask, but you didn’t know how best to broach the subject, or if he’d even be willing to talk about it if you did.

He had opened up to you before, during late night chats or if something he saw reminded him of a memory he held, but the moments themselves were quite fleeting, and you worried about him. You always worried about him, no matter where you were or what you were doing, because simply put, you loved him.

You weren’t in love with him (you definitely were), but he was an undeniably important person in your life, who you had a lot of love and care for. He was your friend, and you wanted the best for him.

You’d never force him to share with you or tell you anything he didn’t want to of course, but you hoped he knew that he could if he wanted to. You hoped he knew that he never had to be scared or uncertain when it came to opening up to you, you hoped he knew that you would always listen to him and be there for him.

Chan approached you carefully, working up his courage to talk to you and see if you were okay, and to know if there was an apology he owed you for some unknown grievance. “Are you okay? What’s got you so deep in thought tonight?” he’d asked, trying his best to not show how nervous he felt; you’d stopped looking at him, but he could tell even from afar that you were focused on something.

“Oh, I..” You hesitated a moment, wondering how you should best phrase what your honest thoughts were. You took a quick glance towards the kitchen where everyone else was, noting that everyone still seemed to be involved in their own conversations and antics, not paying any mind to the two of you. That made it a little easier; you think you’d die of embarrassment if they heard what you planned to say next.

“I was thinking about you actually,” you said quietly after turning your gaze back to Chan. What surprised him wasn’t just how openly you admitted it, but how you didn’t seem the least bit angry or upset with him like he was worried you were.

So.. what about him had you so deep in thought, then? “What about me..?” he asked hesitantly, hoping for the best but still slightly scared he was reading you completely wrong.

You swallowed before continuing, worried that you were somehow going to offend him by bringing up what you were thinking. While you felt like you knew Chan fairly well at this point, people can still become defensive or agitated when asked about something personal, and that’s the last thing you wanted him to feel.

But he’s looking at you expectantly, eyes fixed solely on you as he waited to hear what you had to say, so there was no getting out of it now. “I was wondering if you are okay lately. Like.. really okay, and not just saying you are so we don’t worry about you.”

Oh. He was completely stunned by your words, unexpectedly taken aback. No one had ever said that to him before, and he didn’t know how to respond to such earnest concern for him. Obviously, he had been asked if he was okay plenty of times in his life, but never in a way such as this, that insinuated there was a lot more hiding below the surface.

And there was. Deep buried feelings gnawed at him, begging to be acknowledged, but he always pushed them down further, reasoning that now wasn’t the time and he’d confront them later, when the time was right.

But when was the right time? It never came, no time ever feeling like the right one. Or maybe Chan just spent so much time avoiding his feelings that now he didn’t know how to confront them anymore. He was so used to sharing so little, that even his earnest efforts were still small in comparison to what most others were able to do.

But how did you realize that about him? Was it just coincidence, or were you already so acclimated to him that you could recognize the way his brain worked? “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you said after his prolonged pause, worried that you did in fact make him uncomfortable as you feared.

“I– No, I was just surprised,” he finally responded, turning to look in the direction of his friends just as you had done a moment prior. They were all joking around, laughing loudly as they made the birthday boy wear a stupid party hat they picked up and putting frosting on his face, leaving Chan in his own little bubble with you.

He turned his gaze back to you, wanting to say something, anything, but finding it difficult to speak, as usual. His words were trapped in his throat, refusing to come to the surface no matter how much effort he poured into trying. You took notice of his hesitancy, and decided to speak again in the hopes of giving him some comfort.

“I just– you’ve done a lot for me since I met you, more than anyone ever has, so… I want to be there for you too. If you need it, I mean, because I really, really care about you..” Your face heats up a bit when you’re finished speaking, feeling nervous from the admission.

This must feel so out of the blue from Chan’s perspective, and that thought made you feel silly for bringing it up in the middle of a birthday party in the first place. And on top of that, you’d openly said how much you care about him, which is embarrassing all on its own. Even if it’s not a love confession by any means, it feels similar enough that it makes your heart pound like crazy.

Chan’s face grew hot, positively burning, heart rate picking up drastically. He hopes you don’t notice the obvious red creeping on his features, or hear how fast his heart is beating against his chest. It wasn’t just the fact that he hadn’t expected this moment to happen that made him react this way, but the way you expressed your concern for him.

You wanted to support him, you wanted to make sure he was okay, you were thinking about him. Normal things, sure, but when coming from someone you have undeniable feelings for, it’s enough to make your blood pressure skyrocket.

He swallowed, preparing himself to make another attempt at speaking. “Thank you, I really appreciate that,” he said, offering a timid smile your way to ease your growing anxiety as he continued, “It might be hard for me, but– but I’ll try, at the very least.. To tell you if I’m not okay, I mean.”

You returned his smile earnestly, evidently pleased with his response. You couldn’t ask him to open up easily or suddenly share all his close-held concerns and deeply buried thoughts, but the fact that he’d try and was open to it was what’s important. If he could trust you the way you had grown to trust him, that’d be more than enough for you to be happy.

From a distance, Felix had taken notice of the way you and Chan hadn’t joined in on the chaos of chasing Hyunjin around the kitchen to cover him with icing, and paused to look in your direction. The others stopped too when they noticed his pause, following his gaze to be met with the same sight of Chan’s burning face and the beaming smile you held towards him. They had hope, as much as Chan did, that there would come a day where the two of you would become a couple.

Was it okay to be this happy? Was it okay for Chan to hope that you returned his feelings? Was it okay to plan his confession, to wonder how his life would look if you said yes, to picture himself kissing you and holding you close at all hours of the day?

There were still things he had to do first, things to get out of and people to get away from, but you were his driving force to do that. You were the motivation to turn his life into something better, the hope he needed to get through it all.

Even if he didn’t deserve it, you made it worth trying. His life, which was plagued with bad memories and remorse for actions taken, became brighter and more livable when you were there to share it with him. Maybe it was okay to have someone to lean on, someone to confide in and share his burden with, someone to ground him and remind him that happiness is possible for him, and that it doesn’t always have to be a fleeting hope or dream.

That’s what you were for him– hope in human form, a dream come true. Everything he wanted, everything he needed, beautiful and perfect in every way. And if you accepted his feelings, he’d never stop showing his appreciation to you, he’d shower you with all the love you could handle and then some, making sure you always knew just how much you meant to him.

There were many things in this life that left Park Jaehyung feeling resentful; the way adults expected absolute obedience from him, the way he was expected to be an exemplary student with no flaws, and the way society projected their version of ‘success’ onto him. He wanted to do what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it, with no one to tell him what is or isn’t proper.

All he wanted in life was to have fun and live by his own terms, consequences be damned. If he wanted to smoke, he’d do it. If he wanted to party, he’d do it. And if he wanted to get with a girl, even one who absolutely loathed his existence, he’d do it. So, what by far angered him more than anything else was the way Bang Chan had thrown himself into your life.

Jae would say that he knew Chan and his crew fairly well, often finding themselves within the same spaces. And from an outside perspective, comparisons definitely could be made between them; after all, how different from each other could some ex-school delinquents be from a shady drop out that no one gave a shit about, and his friends that followed him around like lost puppies?

They’d often find themselves rooted in the same places, attending the same parties, pissing off or scaring the same people; but that was the extent of any similarity between them. Contrary to what an outsider may believe, Jae absolutely hated Chan, and anyone who would look at them and come to the conclusion that they were friends were blatant fucking morons.

From Jae’s perspective, Chan was pretentious and irritating; he always had a holier than thou attitude, looking down on Jae and his friends as if he was any better. Who was Chan to preach about morals and principles? Who gives a fuck about any of that bullshit?

Jae certainly didn’t, and he was tired of being told he was ‘in the wrong.’ If Chan wanted to spend his whole life worrying about whether or not what he was doing was right or wrong, he could, but Jae wasn’t going to listen to it. Besides, it was pretty fucking ironic to get lectured by a “professional fixer" of all people. He really should drop the “I’m better than you” act.

But for the most part, Jae could live his everyday life without interacting with Chan, or seeing any of his loyal idiots. The occasional glare on the street or punch thrown at a party was the extent of their relationship, if you could even call it that. As long as both sides minded their own business, there wasn’t much conflict to be had.

Sure, Jaehyung would love to instigate a problem given how much he disliked them, but he wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight he wouldn’t assuredly win. Some might accuse him of cowardice, but he would argue that it was just being smart. There was nothing to be gained from a losing battle; it was better to bide his time, and wait for the right moment. And there was a critical piece missing in the “right moment” that he still needed; you.

For as long as he could remember, Jae found school pointless. It was repetitive, boring, and everyone around him was exceedingly fake. They all wore such obvious masks, trying (and failing, in Jae’s opinion) to appear without fault. No one was perfect and he found it pitiful to even try and pretend they were.

No matter who you are or what you do, something will be flawed. There will always be something wrong with you, always something there for someone to criticize. So what was the point of it all? By the time he entered high school he was used to this monotony and the ignorance of his peers.

And that’s when he saw you for the first time; shy, vulnerable, unmasked you. You weren’t trying to project anything to anyone that wasn’t authentically you, though at first he couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not. Maybe you simply had no reason to, or you were comfortable not to, or maybe didn’t even realize how different you were amongst the people he’d grown to hate.

Whatever the reason, he was intrigued by your ‘realness’ in a sea of two faced, judgemental people. You were smart but not boastful, kind but not pretentious, beautiful but seemingly modest; and he liked it.

At first, his fixation with you started with simple curiosity driven observation. You were always at the top of the class but never once looked down on anyone below you. And while he personally found studying incredibly tedious and pointless, he did oddly admire how much you devoted yourself to it.

You weren’t born smart, at least he assumed so from how often he witnessed you studying, rather you reached your heights through effort and determination. And instead of finding it a worthless effort like he would if it were someone else, he found himself meeting a strange feeling he couldn't name.

He wasn’t sure why, but watching you give your earnest effort to your studies didn’t piss him off like it did with everyone else. Normally he’d tell someone like you that they were wasting their time– studying was stupid, school was stupid, and anyone who cared about it was stupid as well. So why didn’t he have that same sentiment towards you? Why did he want to encourage you?

Why did he want to always look at you? What was it about you that infatuated him so much? He could have any girl he wanted, ones who lined up with his view of the world and he could woo as easily as he could tie his shoe, but instead he always found his gaze landing on you.

To like someone like you went against everything he ever told himself, but maybe that was okay. Maybe you could change his perspective, make him the kind of person that could care about the shit he's supposed to.

That’s why he approached you that day. He didn’t tell any of his friends what he was feeling or about his intentions to get to know you– it was something he wanted to do for himself. He didn’t want to look at you from afar anymore, he wanted to be next to you. He wanted to talk to you, get to know you, find out what makes you the person you are.

And then his friend fucking ruined it. Maybe it was Jae’s own fault for always putting himself in the leader position, for being the kind of person who can’t let someone else take charge, because that meant he had people waiting on him.

In hindsight, it was obvious someone would notice his absence from the group and come seek him out, but it still pissed him off. And what pissed him off even more were the words his friend spoke.

“I knew it! You do like her!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now what was he supposed to do? His friend’s smug fucking grin was infuriating. Who was he to look at Jae like that? He couldn’t admit he genuinely liked you or say he wanted to get to know you, he had a reputation to maintain.

So, he did the opposite of what he truly wanted to do. He treated you the same way he treated the girls he had flings with, acting like you were some lovesick puppy who couldn’t handle that he didn’t like you the way you liked him.

You were going to hate him after that, he knew it; and maybe he was stupid for even thinking he could have genuine friendship with someone like you given the kind of guy he was. And why should he want that?

He doesn’t do shit like that, he never has, and the fact that you even managed to get into his head and make him doubt the way he’s lived so far pissed him off. You were just a girl, at the end of the day.

And so his complicated, unresolved feelings of frustration and hatred were endlessly unleashed upon you, the undeserving outlet for his confusion and stubborn desire to never change his ways for anyone. He’d live his life the way he wanted, regardless of what anyone had to say about it, and like-minded people could come along for the ride as long as they recognized him as the one on top of it all.

And you, the one he liked for a fleeting moment before it all came down on him; he wouldn’t let you go. Because whether you liked him or hated him, you wouldn’t be able to ignore him. As long as you felt something for him, even if that feeling was hate, fear, or dread, it was a feeling for him, and he’d take anything from you he could, because that was the best he was ever gonna get.

When he saw you at that party, it felt like fate. God didn’t do favors for men like him, but maybe he could start to believe in shit like that if he kept getting blessed like this. When graduation day came, he was sure he’d never see you again. You were moving to god-knows-where, while he’d stay stuck in this shitty city with his shitty friends, doing the same shit he always does.

Well, his time with you couldn’t last forever; this was the inevitable conclusion, after all. He’d just crash wherever he felt like it, work when he felt like it, and maybe get a girl on his arm to take your place when he felt like it. But then he saw you, at this random ass party he went to by chance, purely cause his friends were going and booze was promised.

You hadn’t moved all that far, it turned out. You were still within his reach, and he had you now. Oh, and the look you gave him when your eyes met; he knew he missed it but damn, did it light a fire in him. He had you again, he had you, and then Chan fucking ruined it, like he ruins everything he comes in contact with.

It was okay, he thought. There would be more chances, and Jae could be assured of the fact that no one fucking likes Chan, and you wouldn’t either. Now that he knew you weren’t all too far from where you grew up, he could find you again, and relive his glory days before they ever even faded. But every fucking time he saw you again, Chan was there, ruining it.

Fuck, it infuriated him. And the way you looked at him? What the fuck was that? The way you smiled at him made him absolutely sick; Jae never knew you could smile like that, and why would he? He never did anything to warrant something like that from you. But if he didn’t get to have it, then why did Chan? Chan didn’t deserve shit, and especially not you.

You smiled at him like he was the world, stared at him with twinkling eyes and a flushed face, let him wrap his arm around you and hold your hand with the most shy delight Jae had ever seen. And it all went to Chan? All your pretty looks and radiant smiles were for him? No, he couldn’t take that. If there was one thing Jae was going to do, it was going to be making sure he ruined it for Chan, the way that Chan ruined everything for him.

And finally, his patience was rewarded, because he sees you walking alone in a shopping plaza not all too far away from where you go to school. It’s a popular spot for the local college students, carrying everything they need to get through their daily lives, as well as a few luxuries.

It’s not all that busy at this time of day however; it’s still fairly early on a Friday evening, and if Jae had to guess, that’s precisely why you’re here now, instead of an hour or two later when there will be a rush of students all looking to do some shopping or have a bit of weekend fun.

He wasn’t here for you, having come instead to look for a hook-up, but he’s not going to ignore a perfectly good opportunity when it’s presented to him. He wastes no time in approaching, smiling as he does, eager to put a plan in motion to bring everything Chan wants crashing down on his fucking head.

You freeze when he calls your name, heart sinking as you register the voice you’re hearing. You know it all too well, never able to forget it. Despite your better judgment screaming at you to just keep walking, you turn in the direction you heard the voice to see Jaehyung standing against one of the plaza’s many support beams.

What was he doing here? You want to believe he didn't come out looking for you purposely, but you wouldn't put it past him; he's certainly capable of it. “Long time no chat, huh? Have you missed me?” he asked with the signature condescending tone you were once so familiar with.

“What do you want?” You ask sternly, deciding you absolutely will not entertain any of his mocking. “Wow, so hostile already,” Jae fakes a disappointed sigh as he crosses his arms, “That’s pretty brave of you given your guard dog is nowhere in sight.”

You glare at him as you stick your hands in your pockets, wanting to have your phone at the ready in case he tries something with you. “If you touch me you’ll regret it. Chan will know it was you,” you say, trying to sound braver than you feel. You had no doubt that Chan would kick Jae's ass if he did anything to you, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try anyways if he really wanted to.

“Yeah, you’re right, which is why I’m not gonna do any of that shit. I just wanna talk to you," Jaehyung says, and your brow immediately raises in suspicion. He just wants to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “Talk about what? There’s nothing I want to hear from you,” you counter, and he chuckles, having fully expected a reaction like that.

“Just hear me out. How well do you know Chan? Like really know him?” he counters back. “..Why?” you ask with a frown. You wanted to say you knew Chan well, but the truth is that there’s still a lot about him you don’t have insight on.

Despite that, you’re sure that anything Jae has to say about him isn’t going to be the truth, and you certainly won’t let anything from Jae’s mouth change how you feel about someone. Especially not Chan.

“Mm, I see,” Jae responds, seemingly amused at the way you refuse to offer anything up. “How about this then, do you know what he does for a living?” You narrow your eyes at his question. What is he getting at by asking you something like that?

“He works at a convenience store,” you respond flatly, not wanting to give away anything you feel from his pestering. “Oh, does he? Are you sure about that?” he responds with a sarcastic smile that leaves you feeling uneasy. “What are you insinuating?”

“Do you really think that the money he makes at a convenience store earns him enough money to pay for that big ass house he lives in? All the food they eat, their bills, school expenses, everything? Even with a hell of a lot of overtime and his friends pitching in, that’s a bit unrealistic, don’t you think?” he once again counters your question with one of his own, clearly trying to plant seeds of doubt about Chan within you. “Cmon, you’re smarter than that, why don’t you think about it harder?"

You glare at him again, refusing to listen any further or reach whatever conclusion he is attempting to bring you to. “Whatever you’re trying to say about Chan, I don’t care. Tell it to someone else.” You start to turn to walk away, feeling fed up with his game at this point, but he quickly grabs your arm to stop you.

“Let go,” you protest as you try to tug your arm away, but he tightens his grip. “Just listen,” he says as he keeps a firm hold on you, “Chan isn’t as good as you think he is.” You scoff at his words. As if someone like him was any better?

You’d take Chan over him any day, no matter what it is you don’t know about him. “You’re going to lecture me on good people? After all you’ve done to me? Whatever Chan may or may not be involved in, I’d take my chances with him rather than spend even another second around you.”

Jae’s face contorts in anger at your words, and he roughly throws your arm back at you. “Fine, go fuck your piece of shit criminal boyfriend and see where it gets you!”

…What?

Jae sees the shock and confusion clearly on your face, and his usual smug smile replaces the scowl he held just a moment ago. “What, you didn’t know? He does some real bad shit in his free time, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets arrested one of these days,” he returns to his mocking tone, clearly trying to get even more of a reaction out of you.

“I don’t believe you,” you respond and he laughs, as if he expected to hear that. “Of course you don’t. But I can prove it to you.” “Prove it how?” you question despite your better judgment. You know you shouldn’t indulge Jae by leaning into whatever he was trying to make you think, but if there was some semblance of truth in his statement.. What would that mean for Chan? For his brothers, and for you?

“Meet up with me later, you’ll see then,” he says plainly and you frown in response. “I trust you even less than I believe you,” you say as you cross your arms and Jae laughs again; you certainly have gotten more of a spine since the last time he saw you. "Like you said, they'd know it was me if something happens to you. I really have nothing to gain from tricking you unless I have a death wish.”

You narrow your eyes, contemplating the situation before making any definite decision. You supposed what he was saying is true at least; anything he tried would get back to the guys, and they’d make him regret it with no hesitation.

But even so, you were still hesitant to go along with this. You really didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by buying into whatever he was trying to tell you, but now there was a gnawing feeling in the back of your head telling you that if it was true, and Chan is a criminal, you needed to know.

“..Fine, but don’t expect me to go anywhere private with you,” you finally say, a knot building in your stomach as you commit to seeing what Jae thinks is so terrible about Chan. “Fine with me, princess, just show up where I tell you to and you’ll see everything you need to,” he smirks at you and your stomach churns, both from the smug look on his face and the nauseating nickname.

“I’ll reach out, so don’t chicken out, ‘kay? I expect to see you,” he grins before he turns away, leaving you to resume your evening. As he gets further away, guilt and uncertainty begins to creep up on you. What if this is something you and Chan can never come back from? What if you can never trust each other again? Is it worth potentially losing someone so special to you? You hope beyond words that this isn’t a decision you’ll come to regret.

It takes Jae a week to reach out to you again, doing so on social media cause there was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever give him your phone number. You also didn’t see Chan much that week, the guilt and worry eating away at you every time you looked at him, knowing that at some point, Jae was supposedly going to present you with evidence of Chan being a bad person. You still don’t believe that he is, but you need to put this to rest yourself, and not give room for any doubts about Chan to live in your head.

The address Jae sends you is indeed a public one, a relatively large park just outside of the city that you imagine is popular with the families that live close to it. At the time you’re going though, there definitely won’t be any families there. You have reservations about meeting up with Jae at night, even if it’s at a public place, but he insists that night is the only time that’ll work because “people don’t do shady shit during the day” apparently.

Begrudgingly, you go to the park well before the appointed hour, passing the time on a bench until Jae shows up, having your phone at the ready just in case this is all some sort of elaborate plot to get you where he wants you. He grins when he sees you, shooting you a wave that you don’t reciprocate. “Nice to see you,” he says with a smirk as he walks up to you.

“Can’t say the same about you,” you respond flatly, “let’s just get this over with.” “Gladly,” he responds, motioning for you to stand up. You do, hesitantly, and he walks over to a small hill at the edge of the park, walking up it and expecting you to follow.

“What are we doing?” you ask, cautiously taking steps to reach the top. “Look there,” Jae points across the street, where street lights illuminate a rather empty street, with a small alley just within your line of sight. “Just wait, this won’t take long,” he says, holding his characteristically smug smile as he leans his weight against a tree.

You frown as you turn your attention back to the street, looking around for anything you’re supposed to be noticing but aren’t, but you don’t notice anything in particular of importance. On top of that, your mind is at war with itself, one part scolding you for really following along with this, while the other demands you see it through so you can put any doubts about Chan’s character to rest.

“There we go,” Jae says enthusiastically as two figures appear on the street walking next to each other, one man that you don’t recognize and one that you definitely do- Chan.

“What is this?” you ask, not sure what’s so critically important about watching Chan walk the street with some guy you don’t know. “You’ll see, just don’t take your eyes off him,” Jae responds, pointing forward and urging you to not look away for even a moment.

The pair step into the alley, and while there’s no light to illuminate them fully when they’re off the main street, you can still see them well enough. They’re talking, you think, calmly at first, but then it becomes more animated, with the stranger becoming increasingly more expressive with his arms and hands.

He’s.. panicked? He takes a step back, trying to put distance between himself and Chan, but then it happens- a punch thrown, by none other than Chan himself. He hits the man hard, and he crumples to the ground instantly, arms coming up to protect his head after he’s hit the floor.

That should be it, you think, but no, it continues, with Chan throwing punch after punch, unrelenting. You can hear the main cry out in pain now, his voice carrying easily to you in the otherwise silent area. You don’t understand- what is Chan doing? You’ve never seen him like this, but surely there’s a reason, right?

Chan reaches into the man's pockets now, fishing for something, and he finds it soon enough- his wallet. You watch in disbelief as Chan takes the money and shoves it in his own pocket, throwing the wallet back at the man as if it’s worthless now. When he emerges from the alley, it’s even worse- you can see the blood on his knuckles, can see how it drips down to the ground, evidence that there was no mistake in what you saw.

“Chan!” Jae calls out enthusiastically, rushing down the hill to make his way to him, “Thanks for the show!” Chan looks visibly surprised to see Jae running up to him, but then sighs, rolling his eyes as Jae approaches him.

You move down the hill hesitantly, not sure if Chan has noticed you’re here too, but hoping for some kind of explanation. “Why were you watching?” You can hear Chan question as you start to get to the bottom of the hill.

“What, can’t a guy watch? It’s entertaining seeing a shitty guy get what's comin’ to him,” Jae answers and Chan scoffs before he holds his hand out to Jae, clearly waiting to be given something. “Ironic coming from you. But whatever, I did what you asked, so just pay me so we can get out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah, good doin’ business with you and shit,” Jae smiles as he reaches into his pocket, putting a large stack of bills into Chan’s hand. Jae looks back at you then, who is still standing across the street at the bottom of the park’s hill, confusion and disbelief threatening to rip your brain apart as it tries to make sense of everything.

“There you go princess, all the proof you need,” he says with a smirk; he accomplished exactly what he was hoping to- anything you had with Chan is ruined. Chan is clearly confused, and follows Jae’s gaze straight to you, who he realizes just witnessed the entire exchange. His face changes in an instant when his eyes meet yours, blood draining from his face and eyes going wide.

Jae says something to him then, but he says it so low that you can’t hear it, and Chan’s gaze remains fixed on you, as if Jae isn’t even there anymore. “Well, I’ll leave you two to sort this out. And don’t worry about the guy in the alley, he’s a good friend of mine so I’ll get him home,” he says in a smug tone, clearly happy with the situation he’s created.

“Fuck you Jae,” you bite as you shove past him, rushing up to Chan who has begun to hurriedly step away from the scene. You hear Jae laugh behind you, but you ignore it, fixed on your goal. You need to talk to Chan. “Chan, please wait!” you call to him, doing your best to keep up with him despite how much faster he is than you.

You know what happened just now is wrong, that whatever is going on with him is bad, but you need to hear him tell you why he’s doing it, you need to know what’s going through his head. “Chan-” you’re about to plead again but he stops, allowing you to catch up with him.

He slowly turns to you, hesitant to meet your gaze even as you look up at him. Fuck, he felt so stupid. How could he believe you'd never find out about his secret life? How could he believe that one day you'd be with him happily?

He was so incredibly naive, and he hated it, hated how he had tricked himself into believing he could have normalcy and happiness with someone else. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd ever be allowed to live a life like that.

“..I need to call Changbin, and then I’ll take you home,” he says lowly as he takes his phone out of his pocket, and you watch as he puts some distance between you, not trying to get away from you but just far enough to have as private of a conversation with Changbin as he can.

“Hey hyung, what’s up?” Changbin’s voice comes through jovially on the other end, but he can tell immediately something is wrong when all he hears is a shaky exhale as Chan tries to find the words. “Hyung, what’s wrong?” A million possibilities race through Changbin’s mind; he knows what Chan does for extra cash, and he knows the dangers that can come from it.

He’s trying not to assume the worst, but fuck, whatever happened must be bad if Chan is choked up on the other end. “I’m gonna be late coming home tonight. I, uh.. I need to take Y/N home. She’s with me,” Chan says and Changbin is quiet for a moment as he processes the information he was given. “I thought you had a job tonight, though. Are you saying..?”

“Yeah, she saw me,” Chan interjects, not even needing to let Changbin finish his question. “Fuck, okay, just.. Take your time, alright? Don’t rush to come home, we’re fine. I’ll let the others know you'll be out a while, just take care of Y/N.”

“Yeah, I will.. Thanks, I’ll see you later,” Chan mutters into the phone before he hangs up, stuffing it back into his pocket and taking another shaky breath before he turns back to you. “Chan-” you start when you see him walking back over to you, but he quickly cuts you off.

“Let’s get you home, I didn’t park my car too far from here,” he says tersely, walking briskly towards the end of the street. You frown, but decide not to dwell on it too much; you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now, and the last thing you want to do is make the situation even worse than it already is.

You follow him swiftly, trying not to be concerned about the silence between you. It doesn’t take long for you to see his car, parked in a nearby empty parking lot, the only car in sight. Chan doesn’t drive much, his car basically reserved strictly for work and emergencies, so you’ve only been in it a handful of times.

You wonder now though if this is the reason he only uses it when he has to– do police know his license plate? You don’t know if you’re ready to find out the answer to that question.

When you reach his car, he unlocks it wordlessly, and you both enter quietly, neither of you uttering a single thing even as he starts the engine and pulls onto the street. You want to try talking to him again but you aren't sure if you should even try yet; he's very clearly upset but if he's not ready to talk about it yet then there's nothing you can do.

Truthfully, Chan desperately wants to say something, hating the silence he was subjecting you to, but found himself at a loss for words and stuck in his own head. Jae's words before he walked away rang in his mind over and over again. "If you think a good girl like her can fall in love with trash like you, you're pathetic." And it was true, he was pathetic.

It was pathetic to pretend he could have a better life than this. Pathetic to think you would always be with him. Pathetic to think anything about him was worthy of love. What kind of happy life was he hoping for when this is what his life was truly like?

He knew there was no easy way out of this kind of shit once you entered it, but at the time he really had no choice. He tried everything else possible and there was nothing left; and even with how dangerous he knew it could be he was resolved to see it through because when he began he was just a kid in desperate need of cash at any cost.

He wishes things could be different now. He didn't want you to ever see this side of his life, to see the kinds of things he had to do to afford all of the things a person needs to survive. And while the rational part of Chan's brain was telling him there was no way you'd just walk away or hate him, it was overpowered by the wave of self loathing washing over him.

Because even if you didn't hate him after this, could you love him? Could you even still look at him the same way you could just last week, when you gave him that bright smile you always did. Would you still want to confide in him? To rely on him? To let him rely on you? He doesn’t know if you realized it, but Chan has come to rely on you a lot.

Not in the overt ways like asking for help or opening up about his deepest thoughts, which he only did on occasion, but in the normalcy you offered him. In your presence, Chan felt like the life he wanted was attainable, like he could leave all the bad behind him and have something good.

You were always there to distract him from the life he led privately, to give him a sense of peace. He could be comfortable around you, and allow himself to relax. He could be carefree and live in the moment instead of being stressed about what the future held for him. He could forget about all his regrets just from seeing you smiling up at him.

Late at night when insomnia was gripping him, he would look over your messages fondly and wonder what it would be like to share a bed one day. For you to be next to him on his worst nights and help lull him into a peaceful sleep that he wasn't normally rewarded. To kiss you awake and bask in how beautiful you’d be naked with the morning sun glowing around you.

To Chan, any chance of that future with you was taken away the moment you saw the ugly truth of his life. Even if by some miracle you decided you still wanted to be around him, he knew it wouldn't be the same. There was no way your view of him wouldn't be tainted after this.

You'd become strained, being pulled away from each other little by little until nothing was left of the friendship you once held, or of the feelings he'd hoped to admit to you when he was able to leave behind the things that bound him. He should just leave your life now, before things get even worse; the pain he'd have to endure if he held on now would become unbearable.

You'd distance yourself from him, you'd meet a good guy who actually deserves you and fall in love, you'd forget all about him.. And that's how it should be. You deserved better than him; he knew he had nothing of worth to offer you.

And he was sure in response you'd bring up how he was there for you and supported you, but anyone could do that. That was the bare minimum of a relationship. What did he have to offer you other than support? There was nothing he could think of that felt good enough or like he was worthy of anyone's time, much less yours.

It was better to get the heartbreak over with now.. it would hurt, but much less so than if he prolonged the process. He needed to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with for both your sakes. He couldn't delay the inevitable.

You felt stiff, the silence deafening as he drove you to your dorm. You couldn't tell what Chan was feeling anymore, his face completely void of anything, as if he turned his emotions off entirely. You didn't know what to do; he cut you off when you tried to speak to him earlier, and now it seemed like anything you said now wouldn't reach him. It was as if he was running on autopilot, like he wasn't truly there with you anymore.

It didn't take all that long to reach your street given that you were traveling by car, and you felt dread welling in your gut. You wanted to talk to him, to tell him you know he must have his reasons, that you understand that life is cruel and he's probably just doing what he has to, to tell him you understand why he didn't tell you but that you want to hear him out and be there for him regardless. You were approaching your dorm now, and you turned to look at him once again.

He was so close but felt so far away, his face remaining devoid of emotion. His gaze didn't meet yours, instead he stared straight ahead at the street even after he parked, as if purposely avoiding your eyes. "Chan.." you start again, hoping he'll finally respond to you. You see him swallow and his hands tense up, clutching the steering wheel tighter now.

His lower lip begins to tremble, but he tells himself he can't give in. This is what is best for you, he's sure of it. Just rip the bandaid off now, it'll be better that way. He can't make your life worse if he steps away now. He can't give himself false hope if he lets you go now. "Chan, I–" "Just go inside," he cuts you off, the pain evident in his voice despite how hard he's trying to mask it.

"But I–" "Don't. Please don't. Just go." Tears well in your eyes, but you obliged, feeling like now isn't the time to push him on anything. Chan doesn't watch as you exit the car, nor does he acknowledge the way you look back at him one last time before you enter your dorm.

It's better this way. It's better this way. It's better this way. He lowers his head to the steering wheel, resting his forehead against his shaking hands. And for the first time in years, he really cries, knowing that you'll never look at him the same again.

You woke up the next morning with the hopes that Chan was ready to talk to you. You texted him when you were in bed last night, telling him that you care about him and that you just want to talk to him, but he left you with no response.

You reasoned with yourself that he’d need more time; Jaehyung unveiling Chan’s deepest secret to you must have shaken him far more than you can imagine, and it makes sense that he’d need time to process.

Chan led an undeniably hard life, you knew that well at this point; he lost his parents young, his adoptive family were terrible to him, and he dropped out and left them behind to try to make it on his own. He never shared any details about the things he had to do as a child to get by, just leaving it at simple statements that offered no further context.

And you weren’t deluded into expecting anything from him; regardless of details he did or didn’t share, you knew he had been through a lot and you weren’t going to ask anything of him that he wasn’t prepared to offer up himself.

You figured that one day, when Chan had grown comfortable enough and was assured that you were a safe person to share the details of his life with, he’d break down his barriers on his own. All you had to do was be there for him, be consistent with your words and actions, and offer him a safe space to be his authentic self; whatever that self may be.

And while this wasn’t the outcome you had expected, you hoped that all your efforts up until now had shown him that you were someone he could trust. You weren’t going to judge him, you weren’t going to abandon him, your opinion of him hadn’t changed with the truth. And you told him as much through messages, hoping that when he read them that he’d believe your words.

When he didn’t respond you were saddened, but it had only been a few hours since everything took place so you didn’t fault him. You were sure he just needed time, and you didn’t want to put any further pressure on him when he was clearly upset, so instead you just offered kind words to assure him everything was okay.

However, as the days passed on, you began to lose hope that he’d ever respond. You did your best to stop the sadness encroaching in your heart, telling yourself that there could be a ton of reasons he isn’t speaking to you right now. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, there was surely a reasonable explanation.

His life didn’t revolve around you after all, and a small break in communication shouldn’t linger over you like this. You continued to comfort yourself with rational explanations as you went about your days, hoping with all your heart that you weren’t just deluding yourself.

Felix, who saw you most days due to your routine of coming into the cafe he worked at, could see the toll it was taking on you to have Chan not talk to you. He didn’t even know what exactly happened; Changbin said the two of you had a tiff, but that it should resolve itself after a bit since the two of you cared so much about each other.

But as time went on, with Chan so distant and holed up in his room unless he was working, he wasn’t so sure that whatever went on between you was something minor. And then when you stopped in one morning, you confirmed what Felix already feared; that Chan’s isolation didn’t extend to just them, but to you as well.

He wasn’t replying to any of your texts, and that made Felix’s concern for the two of you grow tenfold. So he talked about it with the others in the house, and the 3 of them agreed that you should come over to try and make whatever happened right. And besides, all of you were friends, so it only made sense to facilitate a resolution between you.

They ask you over on a friendly pretense; it’s been a while since you all hung out together, and some fun seemed like it was much needed. You were nervous given the state of your friendship with Chan, but ultimately agreed because you really did miss them as well.

Changbin was the one to answer the door when you arrived at their house, smiling and easing your anxiety by making casual conversation with you. Hyunjin and Felix smiled as well when they saw you, greeting you warmly and offering you hugs before you sat down on the couch.

Hyunjin sat next to you, while Changbin and Felix sat on the chairs nearby. “Is Chan here?” you asked, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you glanced toward the stairs. “Not yet, but he will be soon! While we wait, we should figure out dinner. Anything you want?” Felix suggests and you smile as you nod, feeling comforted by the fact that you have such good friends.

Chan walks into the house not much later, freezing up once further inside and seeing you sitting there with his brothers. “Hey hyung, we’re just ordering some food before we have a movie night! You should join us,” Felix smiles, hoping that once Chan sees you all together, he can put aside whatever made him so upset and can go back to how things were before.

Your heart breaks when you look at him, noticing that his dark circles are worse than before, hurt by the knowledge that he must’ve lost even more sleep than he already does, and it’s all your fault. He avoids your gaze, looking instead at his brothers; he knew this was bound to happen, you became friends with them just as much as him, after all.

And while Changbin knew the real reason behind Chan’s distance from you, the other 2 didn’t, so of course they’d invite you over to the house and try to rebuild the bridge that he’d burnt. But he couldn’t take it; the way all of you stared at him, expecting something from him.

You swallow, trying your best not to cry as you look at him, waiting for him to say something to ease all the sadness and anxiety within you. “..No, thanks,” he mutters, going quickly up the stairs and straight to his room, the sound of his door closing clearly heard once he’s reached it. Dejection settles in your gut, your heart shattering into more pieces than you could possibly count.

Changbin, who is sitting directly across from you, is the first to see your crestfallen expression, and he tries to offer you words of consolation, but you can barely even hear them. You stare down at your lap, trying to blink away the tears that welled in your eyes. Would he never speak to you again? Did you irreparably damage his trust in you? Why wouldn’t he say anything to you?

He was the first person in your life to ever see what Jae was doing to you and help, and he brought with him the kindest people you had ever known. He supported you through your tears, he protected you from the people who wanted to hurt you most.

He listened to you as you talked about your life's worries, even when it was something silly like not wanting to do the night's homework. Chan became a constant in your life, truly living up to his promise to be there for you during any and everything, both good and bad. And now that same person was pulling away from you for reasons you couldn’t understand.

The tears begin pouring before you can even try to stop them, falling to your lap and darkening the fabric of your pants where they fall. Hyunjin notices right away, and pulls you into a hug, trying his best to comfort you by assuring you that nothing happening was your fault.

“It is my fault,” you choke out between sobs, burying your face in Hyunjin’s shoulder as sobs escape you. Felix quickly moves in next to you as well, rubbing your back and offering just as much kindness as his brother.

Changbin’s expression turns into a grimace as he listens to you sniffle and sob, how you blame yourself for everything that was happening despite his brother’s best efforts to calm your aching heart. What the fuck is Chan doing?

Felix watches him stand, a look of concern painted on his features; nothing good happens when Changbin is angry. “I’ll be back,” he says with irritability clear in his voice, stepping away from the chair and to the stairs.

He reaches Chan’s bedroom door in a matter of seconds, trying the door knob without hesitation and is pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Good, so he didn’t have to pound at the door and make him come out then. He opens it swiftly, met with the sight of Chan simply sitting on his bed, doing not much of anything.

Chan frowns as he turns to his now open door, but isn’t all that surprised at this turn of events. He knew one of them would confront him eventually, and Changbin wasn’t one to hold his tongue if something was on his mind. It was only a matter of time before Chan got what he was anticipating.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Changbin questions, wasting no time at getting straight to the point. Chan expected that Changbin wouldn’t waste any time dancing around the subject, but he still wasn’t prepared to unearth the extent of his self loathing.

Was he really going to admit how pathetic he felt out loud? Admit to how much he hated himself? Admit to how he felt unworthy of anyone’s time? The silence only served to spur on Changbin’s annoyance, and he crosses his arms as he steps closer to Chan. “Are you really not going to say anything?”

Chan looks up at Changbin from his seat, meeting his accusatory gaze. “It’s better this way.” he says and Changbin scoffs in response, clearly finding his answer unsatisfactory. “Oh yeah? Y/N crying her eyes out because you refuse to acknowledge her is better?”

Chan’s heart squeezes in his chest at hearing that you’re crying, but he still knew it was for the best. After the initial pain she’ll move on and forget about me like she should. She shouldn’t want someone like me. She shouldn’t support someone like me. I have nothing. I am nothing.

“Yeah, it’s better.” Chan manages to force the words out. “What about what you promised her? Are you going to sit around and do nothing if Jae targets her again?” Changbin’s voice raises, not quite a yell but still louder than his previous speaking tone.

“She still has you and the others.” Chan frowns as he answers. It’s not like he was leaving you completely alone and defenseless; his friends were your friends too now, and he knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

“We’re not the ones she wants,” Changbin nearly shouts, and Chan tenses at this, the statement clearly striking a chord in him. “That’s the whole problem! I shouldn’t be the one she wants!” Chan shouts suddenly as he stands from his bed now, seemingly unable to control the sudden outburst.

He freezes after realizing he just said what he was thinking out loud for Changbin to hear; now he knows how pathetic and cowardly he truly is, and there would be no taking it back. Changbin’s brows furrow in bewilderment as he stares at Chan.

He understood that what Chan did to make money has risks, and he understood why he wouldn’t want you to be a part of that. What he couldn’t understand was why Chan was shutting you out now that you knew about it. Why was he needlessly subjecting you to pain when, in his opinion, you could simply talk it out?

From Changbin’s perspective, everything would be okay. You clearly didn’t think negatively of him after the reveal, you were still seeking him out and wanting to be near him regardless of what you’d found out about him. And even if you did harbor some ill feeling about it that Changbin couldn’t notice, you were at least trying.

You weren’t going to let something you cared about go over a single event, unlike Chan, who was acting like a fucking coward right now. He was throwing everything away, and for what? He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“You’re being a fucking idiot,” Changbin scowls. “You just don’t understand,” Chan counters and Changbin scoffs at the statement. “Then make me understand. What am I not getting here? I’d love to know.” Changbin challenged him, words dripping with frustration.

You don’t understand that she’s too good for trash like me. What is there to love about me? What can I offer her that couldn’t be given by someone else? What kind of life can we live together with the things I've done? She’s smart, ambitious, beautiful..

She can strive for better life and a better person. Someone with high aspirations. Someone who has a better education. Someone who didn’t lead a dangerous life and could put her in danger just by association.

But instead of saying all that he just averts his gaze, stepping down from Changbin’s challenge without a word. “Fine then, you can have fun with your pity party by yourself, cause I’m not staying to watch it,” Changbin bites as he swiftly turns his back to Chan, preparing to leave his room.

“You may be willing to treat a promise like it’s nothing, but don’t expect the rest of us to be okay with it.” He leaves as soon as he’s finished, slamming Chan’s door behind him as he goes.

Right. This is what he deserves. To have nothing and no one, just like before. Because why should he have anything good after what he’s done? He wanted to be the good person you saw him as, but he just isn’t.

He’s the worst kind of hypocrite, his virtue circumstantial and fleeting. The good things he did for the people he cared about didn’t cancel out all the bad that came before it, forever staining him no matter how many layers he scrubbed.

He tried to comfort himself by saying he did it because he had to, because he had no other choice and couldn’t afford to live otherwise, but did it matter? Could he say he lived a life his parents would be proud of? No, but you made him want to try.

And he was trying, so, so hard; to leave all that bad shit behind, to be someone worth caring about, to be better. But there are some things that never change, some things that can’t be left behind or escaped from no matter what you do, and he supposes this is just another reminder of that lesson.

The weeks that followed Chan’s refusal to see you were easily the most painful of your life. You’d never experienced a heartbreak like this before, any pain you thought you felt before paling in comparison to the utter anguish you felt from the loss of Chan in your life.

At least before, when you had become distant and separated from friends, you still had contact; you could message each other freely, you could meet up during school breaks or even weekends if time permitted, you still had your bond despite being in different places. But with Chan, it felt like he burnt every bridge he ever had with you.

You gave up trying to talk to him all together, letting the amount of messages you’d send in a day fizzle more and more, until they inevitably reached zero. In your daily life, you still had the others, but it didn’t feel the same; you felt like an intruder now, like you were encroaching on their space.

You felt like you would just cause strife by being there, so eventually you stopped accepting invitations to hang out with them. Even when you saw them away from the house, you couldn’t meet their smiles the way you once had, because all it did was deepen the ache in your heart.

You wanted to appreciate it, to thank them for trying to keep your friendship alive, but every time it just served as a reminder that Chan wouldn't be there for you anymore. You also felt at fault for causing a rift between them.

Though you stopped staying around the group pretty soon after Chan made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you, you could tell things weren’t the same between them anymore. Changbin especially always seemed to be upset with him, calling him an idiot or a coward, making his distaste for what happened well known.

Hyunjin would continue to assure you that nothing was your fault, that Chan just had complicated feelings to work through, but despite his words, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling at fault regardless. If Chan had never helped you in the first place that day he saw Jae on you, their friendship wouldn’t be in this state.

If you were a stronger person back then, someone who could handle things by herself, then he wouldn’t have had to step in. And now even Felix makes an effort to comfort you all the time, going as far as to give you an extra cookie and discounting your coffee whenever you’re in his cafe.

They always showed you just how kind they were, compassionate beyond words and so patient (well, maybe except Changbin, who definitely was not patient.) Truly, you admired them, and Chan above all, who they credited for bringing them together and making them who they are in the first place.

But now that same person who you had quickly grown to admire so much was avoiding you on all fronts, leaving you with nothing else to do but move on or wait for him to come to terms with whatever he was struggling with.

And truthfully you didn’t want to move on, but waiting wasn’t becoming any easier. Despite the fact that he was within reach, there was nothing you could do. Every glimpse you caught of him or reminder of his absence from his friends left your heart aching in your chest.

Before you realize it, your last class of the day has ended, and you sigh as you look down at your nonexistent notes. You found it difficult lately to focus on your work with your mind cycling through all its thoughts about Chan.

You used to find an escape in your school work; even if everything was crashing around you, you could pour your energy into your work, and find some satisfaction with the good grades you got in exchange for your efforts. But now even that was difficult for you, and you sighed as you knew you’d have to play catch up in your spare time if you wanted to maintain your grades.

It was the first time in your life you’d ever felt so inadequate; even though it was merely a stress induced performance loss, it still tanked the confidence you had in your ability to succeed, which was the last thing you needed to add to your growing list of problems.

Your only saving grace at this point was that Changbin agreed to help you out, and that your professors were gracious enough to let you re-do assignments or get in some extra credit (which they only did because of the good track record you had before your personal life tanked.)

Truthfully, you felt terrible requesting Changbin’s help to catch back up in your classes, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He thankfully agreed to study away from the house so you wouldn’t risk seeing Chan, and having your heart shatter again after having just managed to start picking up the pieces.

You text him now that your class has ended to make sure the study session is still on, and with his confirmation, you decide it’d be a good idea to head back to your room and prepare to meet up with him. It takes you no more than 15 minutes to get back to the dorms from where your last class was, and you spend a decent amount of time cramming your bag full of all the textbooks and supplementary materials you’ll need for the evening.

The plan was to study together at Sunshine Cafe, where the two of you could sprawl your belongings out on one of the coffee tables towards the back and sit on the comfort of the couch, while Felix would provide you with snacks and drinks to get you through the brain overload you’d certainly begin to feel.

It’ll still be some time before Changbin meets up with you given that your class schedules don’t entirely align, but it’d still be good to head out and get some self study in until he gets there. And you could really use a change in secenery given that all you've done lately is go to you classes and then straight back to your dorm when they were over.

Once assured you have everything you need tucked in your bag, you sling it over your shoulders, letting your roommates know you might not be home till late before you head out. Walking to the cafe with all the extra weight on your back and shoulders certainly isn’t pleasant, but you’ll just have to deal with it if you want to make sure you do well on your catch-up assignments and upcoming exams.

And all in all, you actually feel pretty good right now; your friendship with Chan and emotional state might be in shambles, but at least you’re trying your best to pick yourself back up, and that’s what matters most, right?

But all that positivity you feel is drained in an instant, when at the end of the street you’re on, you see Jae standing right in your path, looking at you with a smile once he notices you’re there. You curse, knowing you still have a few blocks to traverse before you reach your destination, and that anything could happen in the time it takes to get there.

He starts to approach you, smirking as he does- you don’t know what he has planned when he reaches you, but you don’t want to find out. Did he know that Chan stopped being there for you? Does he think that now that Chan is out of your life he can do whatever he wants? Or was it a cruel coincidence that he saw you here, a coincidence that he now plans on taking advantage of?

You still have the others, but it’s extremely possible that Jae either doesn’t know, doesn’t care, or is willing to risk it now that Chan being out of the picture takes away one of his biggest threats. There’s a slight hope that maybe he just wants to say something, rubbing salt in your wound by saying “I told you so,” and then he’d go on his way, but the look in his eyes tells you otherwise.

He has the same insidious look you saw every day when you were in school together, the twisted delight in his eyes that told you whatever you were in for wouldn’t be pleasant. You quickly turn the other direction, ducking into a side street you’d passed moments prior, hoping that you can either use the side streets to make it to the cafe or make Jae lose sight of you.

If you were lucky, you’d make it there with no problems, and Felix could shelter you in the cafe until Jae left on his own or Changbin showed up and made him leave. You hear Jae’s laugh behind you, and you panic as you notice that he’s catching up to you much quicker than you’d hoped, the weight of your countless textbooks and study materials definitely not doing you any favors.

Shit- what do you do now? It becomes increasingly apparent that Jae catching up to you is inevitable, and there is nowhere for you to turn to escape him. As quickly as you can, you grab your phone from out of your bag, hoping that Jae doesn’t realize what you’re doing.

You needed to call Chan; you weren’t even sure if he’d uphold the promise he made to you at this point, but what other hope did you have? Chan was the person who said he’d always answer if you called him, and you wanted to believe that. No, you had to believe that.

Not wasting any further time thinking about it, you send Chan a ping of your location before promptly pressing the call button on his name, haphazardly shoving your phone back in your bag and praying that Jae doesn’t notice as thing when he reaches you.

Chan frowned as he sat on his couch, once again thinking about you despite his best efforts to get you off his mind. Despite how much he knew it was best to detach himself from you, he still found himself unable to do so easily.

Maybe it was his underlying selfishness that didn’t want to let you go, or that his feelings for you had just grown far too much to be quashed, but he couldn’t help but continue to worry about you every day. He felt stupid being so upset about a decision he made, that he truly felt was the right thing to do, but the right decisions are never the easy ones, or so the saying goes.

But still, the gnawing feeling continued to eat away at him day after day. ”You’re seeing Y/N today right?” he couldn’t help himself from asking Changbin before he left for the day, and he rolled his eyes, giving Chan an incredulous look.

“So you care all of a sudden, huh? Heard me talking about it with Felix? Yeah, we’re meeting up when my classes are over. But don’t worry,” Changbin says with a mildly sarcastic tone before he continues, “I’ll do a good job of looking after her since you won’t.”

Chan frowned at Changbin’s tone, but he knows it isn’t entirely undeserved given the circumstances. You’re their friend too after all, and he wouldn’t talk kindly to this either if the roles were reversed and it was someone else doing this to you.

“Binnie-hyung is still giving you a hard time, I see,” Hyunjin said as he stepped in from the kitchen, sitting next to Chan with his breakfast in hand. Chan just sighed in response, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the back of the couch.

Was he really doing the right thing or was he just deluding himself into thinking so? Even putting aside the fact that he hasn’t loved himself a day in his life, isn't it just objectively true that you should want nothing to do with him? He knows you care about him, but it’s not exactly uncommon for good people to put their love in the wrong places, and Chan is definitely one of those wrong places.

“It’s not too late to make up with Y/N if you want to, you know,” Hyunjin spoke carefully, hoping that at the very least Chan would openly admit and talk about what went so wrong instead of keeping everything so bottled up inside.

Time passed, and for a moment Hyunjin thought Chan wouldn't say anything at all, before he suddenly spoke up. “I.. don’t know about that. I’m not sure if I even want her to forgive me.”

“Why not?” Hyunjin asked, taken aback by the admission. Chan sighed again, self-doubt and anxiety making their presence obvious as they always did when he was dealing with complicated emotions. Truth be told, there was a lot of lingering doubt about his reaction towards you that Chan was scared to confront.

Should he stop being so stubborn and talk to you or should he be assured in his decision and maintain his distance? He heard multiple times that he was an idiot for detaching himself in the first place (mostly from Changbin, who was the most outspoken with this thoughts), and though he felt like it was the right decision at the time given all his faults and self-doubt, he couldn’t fight the way he missed being around you every day.

He knew how much it would hurt to separate himself from you, but it’s what felt right at the time given the tirade of self-hatred that told him he had to. He knew the guys didn't agree, and he knew it hurt you just as much as it hurt him, but how was he supposed to explain to everyone how much he hated himself?

How much he loved you but knew he would just hold you back? You deserved better than to fall in love with a criminal for hire with no future ambitions. You deserved better than someone who was just coasting through life until the day no one needed him anymore and left him behind.

Not to mention that the only ones who knew the full extent of what he did in secrecy were Changbin, Minho, and now you. And he would've been okay with anyone else finding out the depths of terrible deeds, anyone of the other people he cared about but you. Just not you, anyone but you.

He used to not think at all about what it would be like to fall in love with someone; he assumed he could just figure it all out when the day came, even if it was years down the line. His mental health was in the gutter and life was hard, but when isn’t it? Aren’t most people unhappy?

Besides, he still had his friends, and that was good enough for him. And he didn’t want it to sound like he was never happy, or always miserable, but it wasn't until he spent more and more time with you that he realized how much he yearned for a deeper connection with someone.

Sure, being with his brothers made him happy, and the time he spent with them was valuable and irreplaceable to him, but what would happen in the future when they had their own lives? He barely sees half of them anymore, and soon the other half will move on too, following their dreams, meeting more and more new people, making new friends and building families.

And what would Chan have at the end of it all? Nothing, he had come to realize. He would have absolutely nothing.

No goals, no ambitions, and nothing to offer other than the bare minimum. And he knew you well enough now to know you would say that it's enough, but he just couldn't agree; to Chan, it was nowhere near enough for you, enough for anyone.

Becoming your friend opened his eyes to how many mistakes he’d been making, made him confront the reality that feelings and wants you bury deep down will always resurface, and he knew he couldn’t avoid all the things he’d been trying to anymore.

A lifetime’s worth of sadness, more regrets than he could count on his fingers, and a longing for connection with someone who would love him as he was, faults and all, and help him become better. He had that chance with you, and he blew it.

And then, instead of trying to make it right, he retreated back into the very shell he tried so hard to break out of. Instead of putting out the fire that had grown, he watched it burn, telling himself it was better to let everything become ash than risk the burns he would suffer from trying to salvage what little he had.

In the end, it’s all excuses. He didn’t want to face the fact that he was scared, or admit how little his self-worth he really has. So he fled the scene, and when he was called out, his arguments rang hollow, because even Chan himself knew how little his words could actually be believed.

It was true that Chan didn’t believe he deserved anything good, but maybe it was okay to let people care about him regardless. Maybe he needed them to, so that he could finally allow himself to be happy.

And so he talked to Hyunjin; he told him everything, about what he did, how he felt then and how he feels now, and about how much it hurts to be away from you when he’s so fucking obviously in love with you but feels too worthless to be around you. It was a lot of information to take in, but Hyunjin was truly happy he was finally doing something that was long overdue.

Chan had spent so much of his life avoiding his feelings and keeping his thoughts to himself, that Hyunjin expected him to dance around it, but he hadn’t. It was proof of the positive effect you had on him, evidence that Chan needed you even more than you thought you needed him.

Chan didn’t cry, though he certainly felt like he would at times, and Hyunjin truly was proud of him. Sure, he learned some things about Chan that definitely came as a shock, but he had hope that once Chan was done processing all his complicated feelings and getting himself out of the bad shit he no longer wanted to associate with, the two of you could go back to the friendship you once had.

He’d left Chan alone after that, citing that he had commissions to work on, though really he just thought it would do Chan some good to have some time to himself. He needed to let his thoughts and feelings settle, and hopefully get another step closer to reconnecting with you.

Chan himself was still on the couch, thinking a lot about what he should do going forward. Why did everything always have to be so complicated? He’s there for a while, cycling between various thoughts related to you and his feelings, when his phone suddenly buzzes from within his pocket.

He pulls it out, immediately being met with a message from you, the first you've sent in weeks. But it’s… your location? You’ve never sent him it before, and the fact that you did so without any other context spreads worry through him.

And before he can even react to receiving the message, a call comes through, caller ID clearly displaying your name. Out of all the time you'd known him, this was the first time you were actually calling him. He swallows before he answers, nervous as all hell but knowing he shouldn’t hesitate if you need help.

“Hello..?” Chan answers carefully, unsure if he should speak at full volume until he knows what kind of situation you’re in. His hand immediately clenches around his phone when he hears Jae’s voice clearly taunting you on the other end; it’s muffled, your phone’s speaker clearly blocked by something, but the voice Chan hears is unmistakable.

He curses under his breath as he moves the phone from his face to mute himself, not wanting to accidentally make Jae aware that you managed to call him. Chan refused to risk Jae finding out and ending the call before he can find out what exactly he’s doing to you.

"Aww, crying already?" he hears Jae's voice patronizing you. Chan scowls, fully aware that there’s no time to waste. He gets his shoes on as quickly as possible, sprinting out of his front door and rushing down the street in a matter of seconds.

The location you sent him is on a side street not all too far away from the house, and he hopes that Jae hasn’t dragged you too far away from the spot you sent him. The city is huge when you’re in the heart of it after all, and there would be more possibilities than Chan can count as to where you would be if you’re no longer there.

He runs as fast as his feet can possibly carry him, not wanting to waste even a single second in getting to you, or give Jae the opportunity to do something terrible. He holds the phone to his ear even as he runs, desperate for a sign that you’re doing okay despite whatever situation you’ve been put in.

“Chan taking you away from me really pissed me off. I like you a lot, you know,” Jae’s voice comes through the phone again, and his tone makes Chan grit his teeth. He wants to rain absolute hell on Jae, make him regret ever laying a single hand on you, but he knows he likely won’t get that chance.

Making sure you’re okay and getting you away is his priority, and as much as he wants to obliterate Jae, it will have to wait until after he takes care of you. No matter what Jae deserves, no matter how much he hates him, you are his one and only priority right now, and he will protect you.

You stare up at the bright blue sky, eyes fixed on the fluffy, passing clouds above you, and you don’t react. You’re limp against the cold, unforgiving wall you’ve been pressed against, completely numb, blocking out everything around you.

You hear Jae’s voice but his words don’t register, his hand on your body but your skin no longer reacts to what it feels. Your vision has blurred from tears in your eyes that haven’t fallen, but you continue to stare upward, making no effort to blink them away.

You had no words to describe the way you felt; it was a devastation so deep that it turned into nothingness, a void. You knew Chan wasn’t coming to help you and you shouldn’t have hoped for it.

All you did was set yourself up for the worst heartbreak of all, an incomparable feeling of betrayal and hopelessness, the solidification that this was your reality now, and you just had to face it instead of holding onto hope that it would be different.

But despite it all, you can’t really blame Chan for not being here. You knew you were weak, and you knew you were a target, but that isn’t Chan’s fault or responsibility. It must be a burden to worry about you all the time, or annoying that you don’t stand up for yourself nearly as much as you should.

Your few moments of strength get reduced to nothing in mere seconds, and you always revert back to the scared person you’ve always been. And no matter how foolish it is to hope for, all you can think about is how you wish Chan was here.

You hoped he’d be here, hoped he’d reassure you. You wanted to feel his gentle embrace and hear his voice, knowing he’d console you with tender words and a soothing tone. And most of all, you really just missed him, missed him more than anything, so, so much.

The way he smiled at you, the way his expression changed when he was embarrassed or being teased, the way he cared for everyone and everything more than you’d ever think a person capable of. Though he certainly did bad things, his kindness towards you was radiant.

You didn’t want to define him by what you saw, because you knew him beyond that. You knew how sweet he is, how caring he is, how much he wanted to help others. He understood the value in a helping hand and offered it freely to anyone who needed it without a second thought.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel anything but compassion for him even with how alone you felt from his absence. Your glimpses into his life allowed you to see him for who he was beyond what his appearance would suggest. You knew there was more to him than you even learned, hidden parts of his past, his life, and his feelings that you hadn’t yet uncovered.

So even when he distanced himself from you, you couldn’t hate him. You knew there was a reason, knew there was something underneath that he was scared to share with you. Chan wasn’t the type to leave someone behind nor break a promise, you refused to believe that he was.

You just wished he was here, wished that he’d share his thoughts and feelings with you. Wouldn’t things turn out differently if he had? You wanted to support him as much as he supported you. You wanted to encourage him and cheer him on.

Even with Jae’s words circling around you and his touch against your skin, your mind was consumed by Chan. At this point you felt you were crying more from his loss than from anything Jae was doing to you. He had just become a catalyst for your feelings to burst, his presence feeling almost nonexistent against the yearning you felt for Chan.

You loved him. Truly, and above all else. And you knew that no matter what, it wouldn’t change. Chan’s presence in your life irrevocably changed you; he supported you when no one else had, and you loved his personality and his endearing smile.

You loved the contrast between his tough exterior and his sweet characteristics. He was simultaneously strong and gentle, both cold and warm, sunshine and rain wrapped into one person. And you loved him, for all that he was.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" You hear Chan's voice shout and you blink in confusion, allowing the tears that were stuck to fall. Is he really here? Or are you in so much pain that now your brain is tricking you, trying to comfort you with a lie? You don’t know, but you welcome it all the same, because even if it is just a trick, it’s the best one you’ll ever be given.

Your body barely registers the feeling of Jae's weight being shifted off of you, Chan's voice having a chokehold on your senses. Your gaze shifts from the sky to the right; you see Jae, who has evidently fallen backwards onto the floor, the left side of his face a stark red from what you assume was an impact.

He’s clearly shocked, but the emotion quickly changes into one of pure hatred directed to the presence left of you. You swallow as you shift your gaze to the left, heart squeezing in your chest when you see Chan, more tears welling in your eyes. He's really here? He really came for you?

Chan's fists are clenched, gaze piercing into Jae with disgust and vitriol. He wants to fucking kill him if he's being honest, but he has to do his best to keep a level head for your sake. He has to get you out of here, keep you safe.

"You ever fucking touch her again, I promise you'll regret it," Chan spits at Jae, stepping closer to him and giving one more punch for good measure, assuring he'll stay down and not follow your exit. "Y/N, don't let go," Chan says as he turns to you, taking your hand in his.

The moment still feels surreal to you, but you do as he says, keeping your grip tight as he runs with you, leading you quickly away from Jae. You run for what feels like ages, but you surprisingly don’t feel tired; must be adrenaline coursing through you, or maybe the emotions you feel right now are preventing you from noticing any sort of ache in your legs.

The next thing you know, you’re at his house, with him leading you up to the safety of his room. You collapse to his bed the minute you’re fully inside, trying to catch your breath after all the running as you still hold tightly to his hand.

“I’m just gonna close the door, okay? I’m not leaving,” he says when he notices the way your hand clings to him when he tries to separate, not wanting to let him go. You hesitate, hand trembling as you hold onto his. Everything still feels unreal, like if you let go he’ll vanish from your sight, and you’ll wake up in the same place you were before, with none of this having happened.

You look at his face, taking in his soft but serious expression. You feel the warmth in his hand, see the care in his eyes, and you know– you’re okay now. You don't have to be scared anymore. So you eventually nod as you let go, watching as he closes the bedroom door before returning swiftly to your side.

He examines you carefully, scowling at the disheveled state of your clothes but overall relieved to see no injury. He steps away for just a moment to rifle through his drawers, pulling out a shirt and handing it carefully to you.

“Here, put this on,” he says, and it prompts you to look down at yourself for the first time. The buttons at the top of your blouse are almost entirely undone, with some buttons completely missing and leaving your bra partially exposed.

You frown at the realization that with the buttons missing you won’t be able to button up your blouse again and it’s effectively ruined, but you’re thankful that Chan is offering you something to wear in its place. He turns his back to you to let you change in peace, and he doesn’t turn back around until you’ve made it clear that you’re done.

“Are you okay..?” he asks softly now as he kneels in front you, eyes fixed straight on you. You meet his gaze, lip trembling as you look at him. You feel overwhelmed, confused, relieved.. Where do you even begin? You look down, swallowing the lump in your throat as more emotion threatens to spill out from your eyes.

"I'm sorry," he breaks the silence, and you look up, blinking away the tears in the corners of your eyes. "I– I should've been there for you. I shouldn't have let that happen to you.. I'm sorry," Chan tells you, voice shaky through his apology.

He feels so fucking guilty. He wished so badly he didn't let the voice in his head affect him, that he didn't self-destruct so badly and drag you down with him. "It's okay," you say, reaching your hand out to grab his, and Chan shakes his head, voice breaking as he talks to you.

"It's not okay, I– I broke my promise to you." "You didn't," you say with a small frown and Chan's brows furrow in response. "Yes I did, I–''

You shake your head, cutting him off with your own words, "Do you remember what you told me when we first became friends? When you put your number in my phone?"

Chan swallows as he thinks back to nearly a year ago, when he found you cornered and vulnerable, Jae tormenting you and expecting to get away with it. "I.. told you to call me," he says after a short moment.

"Call me next time, I'll answer. If you call, I'll hear it. I'll come running," you quote him, the words having engraved themselves in your memory. They were probably small to Chan but they meant so much to you. You'd never experienced such kindness before, such an earnest care for your wellbeing, and from someone that was basically a stranger to you.

That was your proof that he was a good person; someone who deserved kindness and appreciation just as much as anyone else. He was kind, caring, and selfless even to a fault. And you knew Chan didn't believe he was, didn't think anything he did was special but it was.

You want to repay all the care he's shown you, in any way you can. "That was your promise," you continue and Chan's breath hitches in his throat at your words, "I called and you came, just like you said you would, so.. You don't have to apologize. Not for that."

He curses, turning his face away from yours with a small chuckle of disbelief. "I should be the one comforting you right now," he says and you smile softly as you respond. "No matter what you might think, I'd never hate you. Never. And I forgive you." You squeeze his hand in reassurance, trying to convey the sincerity of your words.

"I.. don't think I deserve that," he whispers, swallowing as he tries to control the shakiness in his voice. You're forgiving him this easily? He hasn't earned that, doesn’t deserve it.. You should be furious with him, you should hate him. So why don't you? "I can't think of anyone who deserves it more than you, Chan," You say and his lip trembles, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to embarrass himself by crying in front of you.

He’d grown a thick skin in his life, built his walls sturdy and high– or at least he thought he had. But there you always are, tearing his barriers down so easily, prying open the confines of his heart with the simplest of words and actions. And that's the feeling of love and connection he'd been missing in his life, isn't it? The one he’d be yearning for despite all his doubts and concerns?

All he can think about when he looks at you is how much he hopes you'll always be with him, even if it's just from afar. He wants to protect you, wants to hold you close, wants to laugh with you on good days and support you during the bad.

Even if he never gets the courage to tell you just how much he truly loves you, he'd be happy just being near you. And that’s why he owes it to you to be better, reaffirms his desire, his need, to be honest and open about everything.

“I should.. Be honest with you. About why I was avoiding you,” Chan says after a shaky exhale, and you nod, ready to hear him out. “I was.. Ashamed, when you saw me like that. I never wanted you to see it, you know? I was– I still am, trying to get out of it, and I hoped that when you did know about it, it’d be like.. A thing that happened in my past that you’d never have to worry about. So when you saw it, I just.. I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do, and so I just..”

Oh no. He’s tearing up again, and the empathetic look in your eyes continues to chip at his walls. He almost can't take the way you look at him, the way you hold and squeeze his hand as he speaks, the way your eyes water with his, as if it’s just as emotional for you to experience as it is for him.

It probably is, to be fair; you cared a lot about him, cried a lot because of him, tried countless times to support him even when he was closed off, hesitant and scared to try. He’s still struggling to believe he deserves to receive your compassion and understanding, but he wants to accept it regardless.

He wants to let you care about him, to let you console him, to let you be his comfort, his home. And he’d be that for you, he’d give you back all you gave and more, all to make sure you would never cry because of his actions ever again.

“I just-” Chan tries again, falling short as the words get stuck in his throat. You’re patient though, giving him all the time he needs to collect his thoughts and put the words he wants to say together. “I just.. Everything felt like it was caving in on me."

"When it started I was just a kid desperate for money, you know? No one wants to pay a livable wage to a 16 year old, they think you don’t need it, assume you still got your parents and a cushy bed to go home to. So when the offer came up for me to make some quick, good cash in exchange for a favor, I took it.”

“The favors.. What I’d do depended entirely on the person making the request, but they were never good. Usually it was something the person desperately wanted, but couldn't get their own hands dirty to get, and they look for someone to do it for them under the table. So I got mine dirty in their place, and got paid well doing it. And I truly fucking regret it,” Chan spills it all out for you- the woes of his life, his bad deeds and regrets, all for you to see and judge.

But you don’t judge him; you never would, even if he deserved it. What he said is what you expected– that he wasn’t given a real choice, his circumstances unfair and the world before him too cruel. It hurt your heart to know someone as kind and caring as Chan was forced to do things he hated for money, things that plagued his mind with guilt and tanked his already low self-esteem to new depths.

This wasn’t a case of “ashamed only because he got caught”; his shame and guilt was true, the resentment he felt for himself complexly interwoven with his human nature to survive at all costs. It was a dilemma that no one should have to face, but that he was forced to time and time again. To say it was unfair felt like an understatement, but it was all you had to describe what life had offered him.

And still, you admired him; you hear all the time how the circumstances of one’s life changes them, how good people can only tolerate so much pain before it warps them into someone unrecognizable. But through it all, he was still someone full of compassion, of tenderness, who was doing his best to make amends with himself and make up for what he’s done.

It wasn’t your place to tell anyone to forgive him, nor would you tell anyone affected by his actions that they should. But you hoped that one day Chan could be free of the shackles of that weighed him down, both physically and mentally.

The world doesn’t exist in black and white; good people do bad things, make mistakes, and hurt others, often even without meaning to. What truly makes a person good isn’t whether or not they’ve never hurt someone before– it’s whether or not they’re truly sorry.

No one can exist without making mistakes, without hurting feelings and having theirs hurt in return, the human experience is far too complex and not meant to be perfected. No one is perfect, but imperfection is what allows you to grow.

The things in your life that you regret, that make you feel embarrassed, ashamed, sorry– they make you human. They make you someone worth loving, someone deserving of compassion and empathy.

To be human is to love and forgive, to make mistakes and pick yourself back up and try again to be better, to connect with others and build a life with them that makes you happy and proud to be where you are. And it’s what Chan deserves to have a chance at, just as much as anyone else in the world does.

“You can cry if you need to. I’m here for you, Channie,” you offer, holding your arms out for him to accept a hug if he wants one. It’s a promise, really. A promise that you’ll always be here for him, because he’s the person you love most.

“I might take you up on that,” he says as he accepts your hug, his tone the most light-hearted you’ve heard all evening, but you can tell he’s grateful. He squeezes you close, and you can feel his body start to release all its built up stress as he relaxes against you.

He needed this; needed the reassurance that unconditional love is available to him and obtainable, that happiness was something he was allowed to have, that he wasn’t an irredeemable person doomed to endlessly suffer.

“There’s something else I should tell you,” he says after a few moments, voice soft and a bit timid, his arms still holding you firmly. You hum in acknowledgment, pulling back from his embrace just enough to look at him. “Whenever you’re ready,” you encourage him, and he smiles just a bit before taking a breath to steady himself.

“I love you. And I didn’t want to tell you that until everything was behind me, because I thought you wouldn’t return my feelings if you knew about it. If it was just a part of my past, and not something I was actively involved in anymore, then maybe you could, but– I didn’t think you’d ever love me otherwise, so.. That’s the other reason why I freaked out.. I thought I ruined any chance I had at being with you.”

Oh. Did you hear him right? He loves you? He wanted to be with you? Wants to be with you? Romantically?

“You don’t have to return my feelings, I just.. Wanted you to know, because it played a big part in why I acted like I did to you. You didn’t deserve to be ignored just because I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings, you know?” Chan elaborates, your silence making him increasingly nervous.

God, he hopes you respond soon, even if it's a rejection, because the silence is killing him. “You didn’t ruin your chances,” you finally say, a shy smile on your face that instantly fills Chan with relief. He smiles too, and you settle fully back into his embrace, your head against his chest as your arms hold him close.

You hear the thumping of his heart, the evidence that his feelings for you are indeed real- that he loves you. Maybe this happiness is more than Chan deserves, and maybe you’ll change your mind about him someday, but for now.. He’s happy, and that’s all he could ever ask for.

Chan spent the rest of the evening glued to your side, the two of you only separating from each other if you had to. You canceled your study session with Changbin for the night as well; way too much happened today for you to be able to even remotely focus on school work. He understood completely though, and was more than relieved that you and Chan were talking again.

You had dinner together, all of you, and you finally started to feel like your fractured relationships could be pieced back together. There were still lingering questions, a litany of things to still discuss together, but now that you knew you could, there was a sense of calm you felt; like no matter what happened going forward, everything would be okay because you had each other, and neither of you would let that change again.

Even in a group, your eyes would always unconsciously find their way back to Chan, and he’d smile back at you. Not a big, toothy smile, but a small, soft one– a special one just for you. He loved you, and you felt it; and you knew without a doubt that this is where you belonged. In their group, among the kindest people you’d ever met, with Chan by your side.

When night settled in, he did everything possible to ensure you were comfortable, such as offering you another change of clothes if you wanted it, or to take you home if you’d prefer that. But honestly, you wanted to stay with Chan as long as possible, not just because of your desire to stay at his side, but because of how safe being with him always made you feel.

You always felt secure in his presence, like any problem you had just melted away when he was hugging you or holding your hand. And despite the good turn the day had taken, you could definitely still use his comfort. “Wait,” you called to him when he was going to turn to leave, his plan the same as the other times you stayed the night; he’d be on the couch, while you took the comfort of his bed.

“Did I forget something you need?” Chan asked, quickly surveying the bed; you had plenty of pillows, and you weren’t too in need of blankets given that it was approaching summer now, but he wouldn’t put it outside the realm of possibility to forget something you needed.

“No, it’s not that,” you say, and you can see the gears turning in his head, mild confusion mixed with concern appearing on his features. “What’s wrong then?” he asks carefully, stepping away from the door and back to you.

“I.. want you to stay. Here, with me,” you mutter, shyly looking down at your lap and his face flushes as he tries to blink away the initial shock. “Like.. until you fall asleep, or..?”

“N-No,” you look at him, a bit hesitant to meet his gaze due to your nervousness but doing it anyway, “like.. Sleep with me..?” Fuck. He knows you don’t mean it like that but what the hell, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

“Are you sure? You won’t be uncomfortable?” Another careful step closer, watching you closely for any sign of hesitation, wanting to make 100% sure that you really want him next to you all night. You nod, scooting to make space for him so he knows you mean it.

He swallows before he crawls in next to you, doing his best to settle in comfortably despite the way his body tenses from laying so close to you. What makes it even worse is that instead of laying with your back facing him like he expected, you’re turned towards him, looking straight at him. He’s never been this close to your face before, and he feels like his heart is going to erupt.

“Don’t need Wolf Chan?” he asks after you’re settled, noting the fact that you don’t have him in your arms as you normally did when you spent the night. “Not when I have you,” you reply, and thank God he turned off the lights before he got into bed with you, because you definitely would’ve seen the blush on his face burn tenfold.

“Chan..” you breathe out, your voice slightly hesitant and tense, and though the room is dark, his eyes have adjusted enough to see you looking at him nervously. “Yeah..?” he asks softly, and carefully you reach out to him, your hand lingering on his arm.

“I want you to promise.. That you’ll keep trying to get away from the people who have you do bad things, and that you won’t do them anymore once you’re out,” you say, eyes still nervous and desperate to find reassurance. That’s exactly what he planned to keep doing anyway, but hearing you say it just reaffirms his choice– he’ll get out of it no matter what, for your sake.

“I promise. You’ll be the first to know too, I promise,” he affirms, and you finally smile, fully believing in him. “I’ll make a promise too! That once everything is settled, I’ll officially be your girlfriend.” Chan chuckles at your statement, pulling you into a hug as he does.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he tells you, smiling at you fondly as he pulls you in closer. “If it’s okay.. Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, and you nod, heart racing in anticipation.

Your first kiss- soft and sweet, his touch light and gentle, your stomach erupting in butterflies. Again, again, and once more, both smiling when you pull back. You’ve never felt so warm, pure elation in your veins as he holds you close.

“I love you,” you tell him as you settle your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and basking in the joy and comfort you feel. “Love you more,” he says, landing a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Goodnight, Y/N, sweet dreams.”

Was it okay for Chan to be this happy? Was it okay to have the things he dreamed of? Regardless of the answer, he was thankful. There were few things in this world that Chan allowed himself to crave selfishly, you being the most primary desire of them all.

Did he deserve you? Maybe not now, but he would someday soon– he’d make sure of that. He’d keep his promises, make sure he became someone worth being around for, someone that you could be proud to say is the person you love.

6 months since the day Chan told you he loved you and made you his girlfriend. Well, maybe not officially one might argue, since he still had a myriad of promises to uphold before then, but as far as Chan is concerned, it counts!

And to the credit of his point, you still acted like a couple most of the time, all sweet touches and bashful glances whenever he was near you. Neither of you could help it, really; how do you resist in that scenario? All he ever wanted to do was shower you with affection any chance he got, and why would you deny the opportunity to experience it?

Chan’s duality also extended towards your romantic relationship, in ways that endlessly endeared and fascinated you. He adapted to the boyfriend role well all things considered, or maybe his kind hearted and compassionate nature made him naturally good at caring for you.

He was extremely open with his love for you, full of soft touches and charming words. That was always in private however; when around his friends he was much less.. Sauve, you could say. He was shy, simply put; his face and ears burning red whenever you kissed him for all to see, bashful giggles leaving his lips whenever you complimented him or told him you loved him so, so much.

You always loved seeing his cute dimples show up whenever he was happy, and knowing you were the person making it happen filled you with more joy than you could express in words. But the biggest display of his duality would always come when he felt the need to protect you– all his shyness would melt away, his desire to keep you safe and close much stronger than anything else.

Whether it was holding your hand as you walked through crowds of people, directing you away from the edge of the sidewalk when you walked together, or kept an arm snuggly around you when belligerent, overconfident men approached you at a party– he was your protector above all else, and he made that clear to everyone.

He was perfect in every way, at least to you. It’s not to say that he was suddenly without fault, and he certainly wasn’t absolved of all the wrong he’d committed in his past, but his growth and earnest effort didn’t deserve to go unrecognized.

He was the sweetest, kindest person you’d ever known, and every day he showed his resilience and determination to make a better name for himself. That alone made him perfect to you.

Chan worked hard to get away from what kept him connected to the dark underside of the city, and it didn’t come without its sacrifices, but he did his best to make it work and come out of it all ready to wash his hands clean of the past.

He made substantially less money now, but it was a fair exchange when you consider that the money he made going forward was through honest means. He agreed to share the burden as well, to accept help and not take on so much responsibility all on his own.

He was used to taking the brunt of everything, shouldering it all for the sake of everyone else around him. He thought that's what made him useful, what made others want to be around him– what use did he have as a person if he wasn’t providing something for them? Chan was a pillar; one who didn’t want to acknowledge that his foundation was inherently broken, and not built on solid enough ground.

Slowly but surely however, he began to see his worth beyond the material, and stopped seeing his friendships as ones that could easily be stripped away from him by superficial means. It’s not that he thought the people in his life were shallow either, it’s just..

When your self-esteem is so low, and all you’ve ever known is pain and sadness, where the people that were supposed to care for you were either gone or didn’t give a shit, it’s hard to see yourself in the same lens that the people who love you do.

It’s nearly impossible to shake doubt once it has its grip on you, hard to convince yourself people mean it when they say they care when you’ve only ever experienced the opposite. You can’t explain what it’s like to have a brain at war with itself, and he imagines that the only ones who would ever truly understand are the people like him, who have experienced it for themselves and truly know what it means to be lonely.

But he had come to realize that he wasn’t as alone as he felt; he had countless good people in his life, and all he had to do was open the door and let them in. It wasn’t easy to unlearn all the things Chan had told himself over the years, and there were still many days where he struggled with his self-worth and having compassion for himself, but the people he loved made it worth trying his hardest.

And you, the person Chan loved most of all, was the catalyst for the change he needed. You pushed him in the right direction, opened his eyes to all the feelings and wants he tried to push away and made him face them head on. He was endlessly grateful to you, and he wanted to show you just how much; which is why now, on your 6 month anniversary (which was actually more like 3, officially speaking), he wanted to do something special.

But what should he get you? What would be good enough? He knew you’d appreciate the sentiment of his gift more than the price tag of it, but he still felt stuck when considering what would be best for you. He could take you out on a date, but what he really wants is the chance to be alone with you. As much as he loves his brothers, and loves that you’re all friends and get along well, if they interrupt or crash his alone time with you one more time he might burst a blood vessel.

Theoretically he could do some research and find somewhere for the two of you to be one on one, but his career change didn’t leave him with much of a travel fund (or a gift fund, for that matter.) He could always ask the guys to make themselves vacant for a night, or to just please let him have some alone time with his girlfriend, but God, he could already picture how they’d tease him for asking. Or worse, ask him what his intentions are and make him embarrassed in the process.

In the end however, Chan swallowed his pride, and asked his brothers kindly but firmly to let him have the house to himself so he could spend his anniversary alone with you. He did get some teasing and embarrassing questions, but overall not as bad as what he anticipated, thankfully.

Did he want to have sex with you? Yes, obviously. Was that the reason he was doing this? Absolutely not. That’s not to say he wouldn’t welcome it if it happened of course, but it was in no way his sole motivation.

He hadn’t done that with you yet, and though he wanted to, he was in no way going to rush you into it. Sure, it drove him a little crazy every time you stayed the night and he had you pressed up against him, but he was a gentleman above all else. He had self control.

What he didn’t know though, is that you were also being driven a little crazy by him. The first time he called you “baby”, your stomach did full on somersaults, and if he called you that before he kissed you? Your heart went absolutely crazy!

Then, the first time he removed his shirt to sleep you nearly had a heart attack. He was so toned, and well, you figured he was from how strong he appeared to be, but actually seeing it with your own eyes made your heart race unbelievably fast.

And then, one night when you were lying in his bed together, your back pressed against him as you watched a movie on his laptop, and he leaned forward to kiss you, but the kiss landed on your neck– oh, it was over for you.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from making an embarrassing sound, face flushing and growing hot. And lately, you came to realize more and more how bad you wanted Chan more intimately. Every time his hand lingered on your waist, every time you felt his body pressed to yours when you hugged, every time you were laying together and he had his arm wrapped around you– you wanted him.

But how do you go about admitting that? You’d never done this sort of thing before, nor had you been faced with such a strong desire to be intimate with someone before being with Chan.

But now, that it was your 6-more-like-3 month anniversary, you thought maybe now might be the right time to talk about it. It might be difficult to do so without getting shy or embarrassed but you definitely wanted to, and to find out if he ever thought about you in the same way.

Much to Chan’s delight and relief, you didn’t seem at all upset that his plans with you involved having a date at home. His gift to you was a cute, new wolf plush; and while it was certainly was no Wolf Chan, he hoped would comfort you when you weren’t with him. You loved it, instantly hugging him and promising that you’d sleep with Wolf Chan Jr. (as you promptly named it) every night that you weren’t with Chan.

He put on a movie that you’d once said was a favorite of yours but that he had never seen, and it warmed your heart that he remembered and wanted to watch it with you. He ordered your favorite take out meal, spent the entire evening cuddled close to you and sweetly reminding you how much he loved you.

When night settled in and you began to grow tired, you changed into your pajamas separately before you went to his room. And still, the question was weighing on you– does he want you? Will you be able to tell him that you'd been giving having sex with him a lot of thought?

And then you walked into the room after finishing changing, and saw that he planned on only sleeping in some sweatpants, you internally lost your mind. No way would you be able to sleep if he was next to you looking that good and while your mind was plagued with less than innocent thoughts.

So when the lights were off, and you were laid next to him, you conjured all your bravery to speak your mind. “Chan.. can I ask you something?” He sat up a bit upon hearing you, finding your eyes in the darkness to give you his full attention.

“Of course, what is it?” He asks and you swallow, taking a moment to steady your voice before you come right out with it. “Do you ever.. think about having sex with me?” Holy fuck. That is the last thing he was expecting to hear.

“W-What? I-I– well–” he sputters nervously, his face growing hot within seconds. “I-I just.. I have so.. I thought I’d ask..?” you mutter shyly, hoping you won’t be faced with a mortifying rejection.

Oh no. That admission makes his brain short circuit for a moment, mind reeling as he processes what you’ve just said. You’ve thought about it? With him? You want to… with him?

“O-Of course I have, I just didn’t know if you wanted to, a-and I didn’t want you to feel pressured if I instigated so..” he trails off, hoping that he didn’t unintentionally make you feel undesired by holding off on touching you more intimately.

Relief rushes through you, happy to be reminded what a gentleman your boyfriend is and to know that he wants you too. “I-In that case.. do you want to tonight?” you ask, and you feel him suck in a breath before he answers.

“I– y-yeah, I want to,” he says, shy but honest as he seeks out your hand, “as long as you’re sure you’re ready.”

“I’m sure, I really want to,” you tell him, squeezing his hand and offering him a smile. Chan gets up from the bed to turn on some dim mood lighting, because he definitely doesn’t want his first time with you to be in complete darkness– he needs to see you.

You sit up, watching him in nervous excitement before he sits next to you. “I’ll– I’ll take care of you so.. Just let me know if I’m going too fast or you need to stop, okay?” he asks and you assure him that the minute you feel even slightly uncomfortable, you’ll let him know.

He smiles, a shy and cute one, guiding you to turn so both of your bodies are facing each other before he lets you know, “I’m going to kiss you now.” His hand rests just below your ear, fingers on your neck and his thumb tracing circles on your cheek as he leans in to kiss you.

The kiss is slow– much slower than all the others you’ve shared with him until now. It’s sensual, each kiss soft and languid, pulling away for only a second before he connects his lips with yours again. You can feel the butterflies flutter in your stomach as he deepens the kiss, his other hand carefully landing on your waist.

Your hands sit awkwardly in your lap at first, not quite sure what you should do with them and what’s okay. But to your surprise, the more Chan kisses you, the more you find yourself naturally following his lead, as if this isn’t something entirely new to you. He tilts you back, carefully guiding your back to the bed, his body finding its place between your legs.

You bring your arms around his neck, urging him to press his body closer to yours and leave no free space between you. You want him as close as possible, to feel his weight on you, to be enveloped by him and feel him all over.

You’re so responsive to his touch that it drives Chan crazy with want; the way your body shivers when he runs his hand down your waist to your hip, the way goosebumps rises on your skin when his fingers linger near your waistband, the way your mouth opens for him when he licks your bottom lip– he loves it all.

A soft sound escapes your throat when he lets his tongue in your mouth, your arms moving from around his neck to let your hands explore his body, running down his chest and feeling his abs under your fingertips.

Feeling his tongue circle around yours, his breath being shared with you and yours with him, it’s enough to make you dizzy already. You’ve never felt a desire like this before, this overwhelming want to have his hands explore every inch of your skin.

When he pulls away from the kiss, wow, he’s breathless just from the sight of you. Your lips red and glossy, your eyes hazy with need, your hair having fallen around you like a halo; his angel– you’re forever his angel.

Chan caresses your lip with his thumb, wanting to stare at you for just a moment longer before he diverts his attention elsewhere. He smiles when you kiss his thumb, finding the action cute (and hot if he’s being honest, but he’ll explore that thought later.)

He lowers his head back down to you, giving you one more kiss before he leans towards your neck, kissing just under your ear before trailing hot, open mouthed kisses slowly down the expanse of your jaw and to your neck.

Some of them tickle, making you giggle softly in response, but he knows he’s found the right spot when instead of giggling, you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head to the side, allowing him to have more access to your sweet spot.

You can feel him smile against your skin before he resumes his wet kisses and licks, latching his mouth to the spot that makes you react the most and sucking gently. The noises that leave you are intoxicating and addictive, soft breathy little moans that almost get completely drowned out by the sound his kisses leave on your dampening skin.

His hands travel to the hem of your shirt, and he separates from your neck, looking at you for any sign that you want him to stop before he begins to pull it up. You look shy, maybe a little nervous, but not at all hesitant or scared of his touch. You welcome it, letting him strip you of your top and toss it to the floor.

You’re not wearing a bra, you never do when you go to bed, and while Chan suspected that to be the case, he never asked or commented on it, because admitting that he noticed a difference would also mean admitting that he’d look at your chest. But now, he'll be able to do so freely, to stare at you openly (and hopefully not be too embarrassed about it.)

The way he stares in awe of you makes you blush, and when he calls you beautiful on top of it, you almost want to cover your face from how shy you feel. He can’t compliment you while you’re exposed to him like this, you don’t think your heart can take it. Your reaction makes him smile, but he hopes you know that he means it; Chan isn’t saying you're beautiful just to say it, you truly are– the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both body and soul.

“Is this okay?” he asks, hands lingering patiently near your breasts, not wanting to touch them until you give him clearly spoken permission. You nod, but he still hesitates until you say it, which you simultaneously appreciate but feel extremely embarrassed from. Chan rewards you with a kiss, another long one meant to ease away the embarrassment and put your focus entirely on enjoying the moment.

Your breath hitches when he finally touches your breasts, your body quivering when his calloused thumbs brush over your nipples. He lingers on every kiss so sweetly, every touch of your body slow and careful, not just for your comfort but also to commit it to memory, to ensure that he always remembers what his first time with you was like. He kisses down your neck again, and you watch with bated breath as he draws closer to your chest.

Chan takes his time fondling your breasts as he covers them in kisses, squeezing gently and listening intently to all the sounds he draws from you. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and spending some time softly sucking before giving the other an equal amount of attention.

The more attention he showers your breasts with, the wetter you become, your panties becoming increasingly drenched with your arousal. If he wasn’t between your legs, you’d be pressing them together in a desperate attempt to gain some relief, your pussy aching to be touched but at the same time wanting to let Chan take his time making you feel good.

He doesn’t separate from your chest until he’s satisfied, starting to trail kisses down your stomach, stopping to look up at you once he’s at the waistband of your shorts. “Still okay?” he asks and you nod (perhaps a bit too eagerly), lifting your hips up so he can easily pull your clothes down your legs.

He hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties, hands slightly trembling as he pulls them down your thighs and then off your legs, discarding them off to the floor with your top. Now that he sees you fully exposed to him, Chan feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest, his cock unceremoniously twitching as he stares at your body.

You can see how hard it’s grown from beneath his sweatpants, and God, you can already tell it’s big. You sit up, this time being the one to initiate a kiss as you tug at Chan’s sweatpants, not so subtly asking him to help you take them off.

It’s his turn to feel shy, face starting to burn to the tips of his ears as he separates from you to remove them more easily. The way you attentively watch him certainly doesn’t help, nor the way you overtly stare at his cock when it’s freed from his clothing.

You look back to his face, and though he’s feeling shy, he offers you a smile, one that you return just as timidly. Another kiss before you lay back again, your heart racing as you watch him resume his earlier path, placing kisses to the soft expanse of your skin. From your cute tummy down to your thighs, it’s driving you crazy how close his face has gotten to your core without having given it any attention yet.

He carefully spreads your legs further apart, swallowing when your pussy comes entirely into his view. So cute and dripping wet, all for him, because of him– God, you’re perfect. As he’s done with every inch of your body up to this point, his first course of action is to kiss. Your hips jolt when he kisses your clit, and when he flattens his tongue and licks, oh, you’re in heaven.

You’ve never felt anything as good as this, your entire body shuddering as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. The slow pace he starts with drives you wild, taking his time familiarizing himself with the way you taste, the motions you like, and indulging in the pretty sound of your whimpers and moans.

Chan picks up the pace when he finds what you like, alternating from pushing his tongue as deep into your hole as it can go and then back to your clit. He uses his hands to keep your legs spread, can feel the way they tremble and twitch as your orgasm grows closer.

Your hands clutch at his bedsheet, desperate mewls growing in volume as the knot in your stomach builds. He directs all of his attention to your clit, keeping his pace steady as he squeezes your thighs in his hands, his eyes closed as he focuses entirely on getting you to cum all over his tongue.

He can’t help but groan when your hands move to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging just enough to cause a slight sting. “C-Close, so close-” you warn and he hums, ready and eager to taste your release.

You cum with a choked cry, your entire body trembling as the blinding white pleasure courses through your veins. Your heart pounds, chest heaving as you try to collect your breath, mind hazy from your post-orgasm bliss.

You don’t even register that Chan has moved from his spot between your legs until he kisses you, tasting yourself on his tongue bringing you back to reality. Seeing you like this not only fills Chan with an insane amount of want, but also with pride, knowing that he’s the reason you’re in this state.

“Baby,” he calls to you, urging you to look at him. His face flushes when you do, cause fuck, you’re so pretty like this, but no use getting shy again now. “I– I want to get you ready to take me, i-is that okay?” Chan hates that he stutters a bit while asking, but he can’t help it when he’s this worked up and you’re laying there looking pretty beyond words.

“Y-Yeah, please,” you practically beg, and fuck, he’s weak for that. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to resist giving you whatever you want if you make begging like that a habit of yours. He carefully moves from between your legs to be next to you, kissing you sweetly as he rubs his fingers between your folds.

You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and leaking, his pre-cum smearing on the skin it touches. “C-Channie–” you call and he immediately comes to stop, looking at you in concern. “What’s wrong, angel? Change your mind?” he asks, brows furrowing in worry.

You quickly shake your head, trying to dispel any concern before you speak up again, “I want- Can I touch you too?” You can feel his cock twitch from your question, his face flaring and ears burning.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he says, adjusting his position enough for his cock to be within reach of your hand. He can’t help but shudder and gasp when you bring your fingers to his flushed tip, coating your fingers in pre-cum and spreading it down the length of his shaft.

Your hand is so much softer than his, so warm, and fingers barely able to wrap fully around due to how thick he is. He can’t help but get lost in watching for a moment, eyes transfixed on the way your hand slowly moves up and down. You look at Chan, watching the way his expression changes as he bites his lip– how does he look so gorgeous and sexy at once?

Regaining his focus, he prods at your hole with his fingers before he slips the middle one inside. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, that the thought alone of being inside you is enough to make Chan want to cum. He can’t wait to fuck you, to feel you squeezing him, and to find out what noises you’ll make when his cock is touching the deepest parts of you.

But first, he needs to prep you well– so he starts by moving his finger in and out slowly and carefully until he’s sure you can take another. You whimper when he adds a second finger, your motions on his cock stopping for just a moment as you adjust to the new sensation you’re feeling. His fingers are much longer and thicker than your own, and it sends ripples of pleasure throughout your body with every move they make.

You match the pace of your hand with that of his fingers, mirroring the slow movements, but adding pressure by squeezing your hand around him. When he picks up his pace, you do as well, and your stomach flips when he curses under his breath and groans.

You’re mesmerized when his head falls back for a moment, his breathing becoming heavier and his stomach and thighs flexing from the pleasure he feels. But when his fingers curl, your concentration breaks, the spot he touches making you see stars as loud a moan falls from your lips.

It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, head falling back against the pillows and your eyes rolling back as he prods it over and over again. Your pace on his cock loses its rhythm, trying your best to keep steady through the immense pleasure you feel but failing at the task miserably.

Chan doesn’t mind in the slightest– in fact, he welcomes it, because he doesn’t want to cum before he's had the chance to be inside you. He brings his thumb to your clit, applying pressure as he draws circles over it, and that’s enough to make you entirely crumble. “Oh my god–” you gasp, your hand falling away from his cock as you succumb to what he gives you.

You’re cumming before you can even really process it, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body trembles. He doesn’t stop until he’s sure you’ve come down from the high, carefully sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean.

Your eyes are closed, breath shaky as your heart pounds, and you feel so good. Chan carefully pushes the hair stuck on your face with sweat away, and you smile at him when you open your eyes. “Felt good, huh?” he asks with a shy smile of his own, “Do you still want to keep going? Not too tired?”

“Wanna keep going, wanna feel you inside me,” you answer, and you can feel him twitch against your thigh again, evidently excited by your words. He stands from the bed to rifle through his nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer as you settle comfortably in the middle of the bed.

Chan takes his place between your legs, and you watch as he opens the package and rolls the condom on with no trouble (despite how much his hands are trembling from the anticipation.) He takes his cock in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance and then looking back to your face.

“You’re still sure?” he asks, and you nod without hesitation. “Mhm, I love you so much Channie, wanna do this with you and only you,” you assure him, and wow, does that make him positively melt.

“Such an angel,” he tells you before he kisses you, happy beyond words, “my angel.” He slides inside with relative ease given how slick you are, the only resistance he meets being from how tight you still are even after having gotten his fingers.

He watches you the entire time, stopping when he notices you wince, and only resuming his slow push when your body starts to release its tension. Chan kisses you, holds your hand and lets you squeeze as hard you need, not moving a single inch until you’re ready for it. To your surprise, it doesn’t take all that long for you to adjust to the stretch, and soon enough you find yourself eager for stimulation.

You don’t verbally say it, but Chan can tell you’re ready by the pleasured whimper that pours into your kiss when you feel him twitch inside, and how you unconsciously move your hips to try and seek the friction you crave. He starts slow, for his sake as much as yours, because he’ll cum much sooner than he wishes to otherwise.

He’s still kissing you, swallowing your soft moans and letting you consume his low groans. It takes him a moment to find your spot with just his cock, but he can tell he’s got it when you loudly gasp and clench tightly around him.

He moves his hands to your hips and then to your legs, holding them in his hands and using them for leverage when he starts to pick up his pace. Your hands are on his face, holding him close as you continue to kiss and muffle each other’s noises that are beginning to grow in volume. You’re glad Chan asked the guys to leave for the night, because with how good it feels you couldn’t possibly keep your voice down, even if you wanted to.

“Fuck, baby, feel so good, ‘m gonna cum,” Chan tells you between breathy groans and your stomach flips, eager to find out what he looks and sounds like when he’s cumming inside you. He brings two fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles to ensure you cum again too and that he doesn’t leave you wanting. You whine, sensitive from all the attention you’ve received but still feeling way too good to ask him to stop.

“Cum again for me, please angel, need you to so bad, please-” Oh, that really does it for you. You cum hard, making a mess of his fingers as you do, clutching tightly to his arms as your head falls back. Chan’s high follows close behind, his thrusts turning sloppy as he chases it, his cum spurting into the condom in quick bursts.

The two of you stay like that for a time, breathing heavily as you come down from your highs together. Chan pulls out slowly once he’s caught his breath, quickly removing the condom and tying it off, disposing of it in the trash can at the foot of his bed before he lays down next to you.

You immediately turn towards him, wrapping your arm around him and pulling him into a hug. “We should get cleaned up but.. Wanna cuddle first,” you say and Chan smiles, always finding it so cute when you’re clingy towards him, and even more so now after an intimate moment.

He rubs soothing circles on your back and kisses the top of your head, watching you fondly as you yawn and snuggle as close to him as you can. “Baby, you’re gonna fall asleep if we stay like this too long. Let’s get you cleaned up before you get too cozy, yeah?” Chan reasons and you pout, knowing he’s right but not wanting to leave the comfortable, blissful place you’re in. He chuckles when you look at him with that pout, so adorable and cute in his eyes.

“C’mon, won’t take long. And we’ll go straight to bed as soon as we’re done, promise,” he tries again and you reluctantly agree, begrudgingly tearing yourself away from your boyfriend's warm embrace.

Your legs are a bit wobbly, so Chan helps you stabilize yourself, walks you to the bathroom and helps you in the shower. He takes his time to dry you off well and get you dressed in fresh clothes, and helps you back into bed.

You yawn and snuggle into Chan as soon he’s settled next to you, eyes heavy and body beyond exhausted. You’re a little sore, but so happy, and Chan took such good care of you that you feel relaxed despite the aches.

He holds you close, whispering a soft ‘I love you’, smiling when you sleepily mumble it back. He’s so lucky to have you, so blessed to have you here in his arms, loving him in both his good moments and his bad, never giving up on him even when you likely should have.

You saw how flawed of a person he was and loved him regardless, knew of his mistakes and regrets and supported him anyway, encouraging him every step of the way on his road to change. There were so many times he felt he didn’t deserve the love and compassion he received, so many times he felt worthless and miserable, and you graciously helped him to see that he was a person worth more than he gave himself credit for.

It was still hard at times to have love and compassion for himself, to extend himself the care he freely offered to others, to believe it’s what he deserved, but he’d never stop trying. Until the day came where he could confidently say he loves himself, that he believes in his heart that he’s not someone worthless, he’ll keep trying.

And you’ll be there, holding his hand, giving him the safe space he needs to cry and to feel, your unconditional love giving him the reassurance and hope he needs to live a life he can be proud of– a life he promises to always share with you.

#skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #literally posting this after 4am fdsgsdfg GOOD NIGHT #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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